#star's rebirth au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kentopedia · 4 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 . . . the french are glad to die for love

after a night performing, you meet with the duke, but he's not anything like you'd been expecting.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. ft. sanji ! f!reader, moulin rouge au, alcohol, smoking, romance, prostitution, burlesque/cabaret dancers, humor, very very brief mention of suicidal ideation, suggestive content. 8.7k words.

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, i'm very nervous to post this so pls be kind to me ‪‪❤︎‬ if you aren't familiar with moulin rouge, the writing's a bit silly / eccentric at times, which is a little outside my comfort zone. so if you hate it... say nothing lol ><

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 .˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈 .˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

Paris was the city of lovers, as they said. Romantic and doused in shades of red, painted with hearts for stars and a dazzling galaxy complete of past romances.

Red, yes, was the color of Paris. But it came from not from dalliances, but from blood and tears, the scarlet hues mixed in shades of pain and misfortune. Nothing you had expected when you’d first stepped foot in the city with a half-developed mind, just off the boat from your own country. You’d had a suitcase filled with your finest clothes, which truly weren’t much, and a few necessities. But you’d been leaving from nothing, and you’d go on to have nothing, finding yourself in yet another desperate situation.

In the wake of revolutions, Paris was supposed to be a place of rebirth, to start fresh and finally live out your dream as an actress. But things never turned out the way they were planned — such had been the case since the beginning of time.

Instead of finding your way into the Palais Garnier, on the stage in beautiful velvet gowns, laced with glittering diamonds and rubies, you found yourself on the streets, singing for anyone who would listen. Then, you were acquired by a man who promised you a life of luxury and an opportunity to be a star.

And who were you to refuse such an offer?

Thus concluding the simple, albeit melancholy tale of how you found yourself at the Moulin Rouge, part-time singer, part-time dancer, and full-time actor. A cliché story of ambition and lost dreams, of aspirations that had never come to fruition.

Still, you had your moments of stepping into the role of the glittering ruby, the dazzling diamond. There were even times when you felt that, maybe, you were shaping up to be the prima donna you’d dreamed of becoming. That you had already taken that role on and made it your own, not in a golden opera house, but on a stage of darker colors, crafted for those that crept in the shadows, rather than the heavens.

But what being an actor at the Moulin Rouge meant was forgetting what it was to be yourself. Each evening, you put on a mask of beauty that you didn’t feel to your core, shrouded in cheap jewels that had become meaningless in the face of giving up your real dream. No matter how many times you told yourself this was right, a stepping stone to the path of greatness, it still felt like a lie.

But the years carried on, and the pain subsided. You got used to the sharpened eyes of hungry men, of people that would never want you for any longer than an evening. They were charming, sure, and they paid a pretty penny for a night — if you were willing to give it to them.

It was enough. It had to be.

Things weren’t so bad, you supposed. You’d left your home like you’d always planned to, even while this shapeless existence was hardly any better.

Still, returning to your house of cards, of rags and dirtied floors, seemed like an even bigger failure. Perhaps not to your family, who would’ve deemed your life as a courtesan the greatest shame of them all. To you, though, the greatest shame would have been to admit that you were wrong.

Your fifth year of working at the Moulin Rouge set into motion the beginning of the end. There was nothing different about the evening that tipped the first domino… Not that you could recall, at least.

As always, an array of stars glittered over Montmartre, a beautiful Parisian night, lit up with red. From the streets, the Moulin Rouge glowed like a beacon, combating even the loveliest parts of the French skyline, outlandishly bright, but mystical all the same. It wasn’t often that you saw the outside of the cabaret, not the way your patrons did. Sometimes, you wondered what it was like for them, to walk in for the first time and see the beautiful stars, dancing just for them on the candlelit stage.

The very stage you were soon to find yourself on.

A necklace of rubies — undoubtably fake — hung heavy on your chest, weighing you down just like a cough in your lungs did. From beyond your four walls, you could hear the crowd that had formed in the intimate hall, already wet with anticipation of the dancers. And while some, perhaps, were doubtful, here for the first time, you knew they would leave with an itch to return, if only to see the star of the Moulin Rouge.

You.

Staring into the mirror, you listened to the heels of your friends click across the stage, getting into position for their first number. It was comforting, almost, how the simple sound was there for your every night, alerting you of just how much time you had before your final act.

You smeared rouge across your cheeks, sporting a grim smile, and made sure the color was bright enough to combat the lights that would illuminate you.

Then, you inhaled, and stood from your chair, to get dressed before your number began.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get far, already crowded by the chest of your keeper, the flashy owner of the Moulin Rouge. Buggy.

He was dressed as he always was — to the nines, and impeccably lively. Much livelier than you would ever be outside of the glittering nightclub. Sometimes, you wondered just how much of his persona was an act, and how much of it was every bit the extravagance he’d been born with.

“There’s my star,” Buggy said, dragging a finger across your cheek, eyes lit up by his pale makeup. “I’ve been looking for you.” Your name left his lips cheerfully, and you smiled, thinly plastering on enthusiasm.

“Well,” you answered, batting your eyelashes heavily. “Here I am. Where I’ve been for the past five years, every night, at this very time.”

He threw an arm over your shoulder as he always did, like the two of you were old friends, and the air of professionalism you tried to keep between you was needless. “Yes, yes,” he responded, waving off the slight bit of sarcasm. “Listen. I have a manner of business to discuss.”

Your smile quickly fell. You knew what that meant. “Buggy,” you said, unreeling yourself from his embrace, his hot palm dropping from your shoulders. “It’s hardly been a day since the last one. You promised me I wouldn’t have to take on any more.”

Not that you’d believed him when he’d said that, but… There were only so many men you were willing to seduce, especially when the other dancers would have gladly accepted the work. You weren’t the only courtesan at the club, and just because you were the star, didn't mean you would put the others out of a job.

“I did, I did, and I’ll keep that promise… After this last time.” Buggy’s words were on the edge of charisma, but they weren’t able to reach that delivery. Full of a dramatic flair, sure, but nothing further. His smile was thin, desperate, and though you wanted to ask his true intentions about this particular meeting, you wouldn’t. You already knew the answer.

You held his gaze sharply, eyes narrowing before you relented, a heavy sigh leaving your lungs.

There had been talk about the finances, only recently, and just through the grapevine. Claims that the Moulin Rouge was going bankrupt, and there was only one person with enough beauty and charm to save it.

A heavy burden to bear, indeed.

And while you were hopeful, devastatingly so, that the claims weren’t true, you weren’t blind to the dwindling waitstaff, the decreasingly lavish decorations. One of your dancers had even left in the last week, a young girl who didn’t bring much to the table, but didn’t deserve to be tossed back onto the streets either.

You’d be a fool not to notice that there was trouble… Trouble Buggy had convinced you not to worry about, but that concerned you all the same.

With a frown, you bowed your gaze, then perked back up with a smile. As if holding a tiara high on your head, you straightened, erasing the depressing dimness from your eyes, hoping you shone as brightly as he wanted you to. “Alright,” you hummed, softening your voice, “What do I need to do?”

Buggy grinned, face revealing perfect showmanship, and pinched your cheek. “There’s my star.”

The man you were to seduce on the stage tonight was a duke.

He wasn’t from Paris, wasn’t from France at all, but instead, from some intriguing land further East, hailing a vast amount of wealth and a large wallet that could easily bankroll the entire nightclub. Salaries, performances, food and so on. That alone told you all you needed to know.

Just one night. That would be enough to convince him that you were a dazzling diamond, and you deserved a place on the stage. A different stage. It would be enough to get him to put his money on the table, entranced enough by the energy of the evening to invest in the Moulin Rouge. Enough to intrigue him, even if he was a difficult man to please.

One night might not turn out be just one, you knew that. But you’d do anything, anything it took to achieve you dreams. Not just for yourself, not for Buggy… but for all of the others that you called your friends. You deserved an opportunity to be a real actress, and they deserved a place to live, a place to work.

Besides, you were getting older, already closer to thirty than your early teenage years, and those of the underworld did not want an aged woman, so much as they sought the delicate features of a barely turned adult. It was a disgusting, filthy world you lived in, but it kept you alive, and sometimes, that was all you could ask for.

“Remember,” Buggy’s words echoed in your ears, sharp and desperate to be heard, even over the drowning noises of the orchestra. “He’ll be in the back booth. There’s a group of men with him, they’ll all have drinks. Just catch his eye, sometime during the dance. But don’t worry too much about that, otherwise you’ll lose your focus.”

What you got from that was: You should try extra hard to catch the eye of an impressive man, but you should not seem like you were trying at all.

A somewhat daunting task, but it would be simple enough. There hadn't been a man yet at the Moulin Rouge who hadn’t stumbled over himself when you gave him your brilliant smile.

You breathed, a deep inhale that cleared out the anxiety lingering in your chest. Then, you blew it out, and the curtain rose, blinding you with overwhelming yellows and reds from the lights, ones that ignited the jewels on your neck, outlining your chest, drawing everyone’s attention to you.

It was hard to see anything at all, but you could feel all their eyes on you — a hundred or so pairs that scoured you like a piece of meat.

And when you got to the floor, close enough that you could feel the hot breaths of your favorite clients, they threw bills at you until you could no longer hold them in the tight lines of your bodice.

You smiled at every individual like you’d never smile at anyone again, patted their cheeks until they passed out with red, swooning faces. Then you left them, still reeling from your touch, eyes glued to you with the focus of a tortured scholar.

Performing had always been a rush to you, left you lively and with an energy that you’d never found in anything else. But sometimes, performing like this, exploiting no one but yourself and your magnetic charm, left you empty at the end of the day. You left the stage cold, drained of every ounce of warmth that had been dragged into you from the spotlight.

It was invigorating to be wanted, but it could never compete with the crushing loneliness that came with being used.

And that warmth you got from the stage, the rush of devotion and adrenaline that came with incessant adoration? Well, you’d never felt anything like that, never been able to replicate it either, until a set of eyes landed on you from a distant booth, where the Duke was said to be sitting.

You felt the heat before you saw him, the candy-red color of desire bleeding into you. It dragged across your back, digging into your shoulder-blades like a needle, piercing, but only lightly. There was something soft around the harsh edges of want, and when you turned to meet that stark desire, you almost faltered in surprise.

He wasn’t what you’d been expecting.

Just as Buggy had said, the corner-most booth held a man, surrounded by many others. The table was littered with glasses — both empty and full of alcohol, and a cloud of smoke hovered around them. All of the men leaned over the table, eyeing you with awe-struck eyes, as you sparingly gave them your sweetest smile.

But it was the innermost man that you honed in on, one being jostled around by the wealthy others in his booth. Blonde, blue eyes alight with a conflicted sort of desire, wearing a suit tailored to fit him perfectly.

The Duke.

Allegedly.

From what you’d been told, there were enough clues to convince you that this dazzled man was the one you were looking for. Surrounding him were older patrons, ones that were familiar with Buggy, and nearly all of the dancers. Rich men that would have gladly accompanied a foreign noble, shown him the beauty of Montmartre before the sun rose and they were back to respectable conversation.

Yet, he seemed…

Well, he didn’t seem very lordly.

That, though, was not a question you wanted to linger on for too long. Your mind would spin into uncertainties, and you would fuck this up before you could fuck him.

Instead, you sharpened your smile, lowered your eyes seductively, and continued your performance, painting more attention onto that side of the room.

Which raised another red flag that you were all too happy to ignore. Far opposite of what Buggy had sad, the duke did not seem like a difficult man to please. Rather, all you could think was that he would be an easy catch, with the way his cigarette dangled from his lips, parted in awe. His irises might as well have shaped into hearts as he watched you, tracing your every movement without so much as blinking.

You brightened. For some reason, his adoration gave you much greater satisfaction than you would have liked to admit.

Riding on the elation that your prey, the source of your future, was in the palm of your hand, you wrapped up the rest of your performance perfectly, tying it up with a beautiful scarlet ribbon. Buggy was standing on the edge of the stage as you made your way down, bowing dramatically, knowing that you had succeeded in every goal he’d set for you.

“Do you think I lured him in?” you asked softly, accepting the robe given to you by one of the stage-hands, a man just on the cusp of his twenties.

Buggy smiled, his red-painted lips spreading across crooked teeth. “I don’t call you the diamond for nothing, do I, my dear?” he said, pinching your cheek.

The rouge came off between his fingers, and your eyebrows crinkled, before releasing, as you remembered all the ways you could keep yourself from looking older. You swatted your friend-not-friend’s hand away before wrapping yourself tighter in the robe, feeling so much smaller and younger than you truly were.

Despite all the men you’d taken to bed, all the nights you’d shared in throes of passion (their’s, of course, never your own), you still felt the scared, hardly-adult you’d been when you first set foot in Paris.

Buggy noticed the change in your demeanor, as you tried to gear yourself up for an encounter with the Duke. The charming, blonde noble seemed kind enough, softer around the edges than many of the men you’d seduced over the years. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

Never, though, would it be something that you wanted to do.

“What’s the matter, my gem?” Buggy asked, not quite in a way that was kind, but enough to show concern. His eyes were gentler than the rest of his appearance, and you weren’t sure you were grateful for it.

You curled away from his hands, sniffing back the onslaught of doubt and self-loathing that always came upon you when you used your body in such a way. It was something that you’d been taught to feel disgusted by, even though it kept a roof over your head, and the heads of the people that you’d come to call your family.

“It’s nothing,” you said, because it was the truth. It was nothing new. The same blur of feelings that had haunted you since the first day you’d sold yourself to another still lingered. You’d always thought it would get easier… but it hadn’t. It still ended with you wanting to tear your skin from your body, but never following through with a slide of poison down your throat.

Because that was the easy way, wasn’t it? A quick way to end your torment, without knowing if you’d ever see the other side. And, perhaps you weren’t as brave as you wanted to believe, but you wanted to see if there was another side. If there was a brighter end, a brighter future, where you could shine on the stage of the Palais Garnier as a real actress, and not just in the glittering scarlet lights of the Moulin Rouge.

Buggy eyed you skeptically, any kindness in his irises now gone as his lips turned into a thin line. “It better be nothing,” he said, guiding you across the stage, before reaching a doorway that would send you up into the Elephant Room.

Which was the most private area of the Moulin Rouge, one saved for the most illicit affairs. It was your room, and only those patrons that were willing to pay the highest price were allowed entry.

“Remember, I’ll send him up to you, and all you have to do is give him a night he won’t forget, alright?” Buggy stood in front of you, gripping your shoulders in a warning. “Now, show me that dazzling smile, diamond.”

Reluctantly, but with all the passion you had gathered in your chest, you smiled, knowing that it was real enough to set something alight in his own. The reaction — just a small quirk of his lips in return — was enough to let you know he was satisfied with the show you’d put on.

“There she is. We’ll have a new investor soon enough.”

You were certain of that. You had to be certain of that, or your livelihood would be down the drain, and a future of shimmering lights and diamond-encrusted gowns would be out of the question.

On the walk up the stairs, you spoke soft words in your head, hummed the same tune you did for every show. It reminded you of who you were — at least, who you were to them. The ones who would have sold an arm and leg for a chance to win your heart, even though, after all the years that passed, you didn’t think you had one to give anymore.

The stage was all the love you had to offer. Perhaps, the only type of love you believed in, anymore.

You made your way up the spiraling staircase to the Elephant Room, and opened the door with a sigh, letting your weight rest against the doorknob. For a moment, you deflated in the threshold like a woman in a Shakespearian tragedy, exhaling the tension that had wrought in your shoulders.

Until you felt eyes slide across to you, unexpectedly, and you found you weren’t alone in the Elephant Room.

Without pretense, the Duke was waiting for you, his eyes dancing along the interior, taking a moment to gaze at every corner of the room. There was interest in his irises, as he searched for other secrets of your life through your belongings

Then, the door slammed shut behind you, and the spell was broken. The Duke turned to face you, eyes widening with alarm, as your back went straight as a wire.

He wasn’t supposed to be there already.

A second slipped by, and you gawked at each other, your own mouth dry with the confusion and surprise of his ill-timed appearance. Surely Buggy hadn’t sent him to the Elephant Room already? You’d only just parted.

Well, you supposed it didn’t matter now anyway. La vie continue.

Smoothly, you recovered, raising your shoulders to release an air of confidence, and smiled brightly. You twisted your hair across your collarbone, hoping it would highlight the smooth planes of your chest, where the ruby necklace had already been removed. “Ah, my apologies, monsieur. I wasn’t aware you were waiting for me.”

The Duke blinked as you strutted past him, taking the two quick steps to your vanity. Just enough to brush against him, feel the desire rolling off of him in waves.

Pointedly, he tried hard not to let his eyes drift lower, tracing just along your hips before snapping back up to to the back of your head. “How would you have known?” His words came out thick, as if something was lodged deep in his chest. “I haven’t even introduced myself.”

“Oh, there’s no need,” you said over your shoulder, lowering your voice huskily. “I’ve heard so much about you. I trust your visit to the Moulin Rouge has been pleasant?”

He met your gaze through the mirror, seemingly enraptured, and cleared his throat as he calculated a response. “Très agréable, mademoiselle.”

You smiled, humming through an affirmative, before continuing. “Wonderful. I’ll be ready in just one moment.” Imperceptibly, you sprayed perfume, hoping it would mask the sweat that had gathered from your performance. Then, you made your way over to a cart, sifting through expensive bottles of alcohol. “Drink?” you said, speaking softly to yourself. “I have champagne or…” You shook each of the bottles, realizing they were all empty. Not a drop left. “Well. I have champagne.”

“I’m alright, madame. Merci.”

You began to pour your own glass, which you would certainly be needing, when it dawned upon you that his accent was rather Parisian, and absolutely not as foreign as Buggy would have had you believe. Your champagne slipped, nearly spilling over the edges of the cup, before you turned to eye the blonde with what you hoped with a sultry grin.

“Ah. Your French is very beautiful,” you said, smiling over the edge of your glass as you sipped at it, wondering if your eyes were as alluring as you believed. “You’re a quick learner.”

He stared at you, lines creasing his features as his lips parted, obvious skepticism weaved within his posture. Then, without another word, he ignited the cigarette he had slipped between his lips, the end glowing before he inhaled. A long drag was taken from it, settling in his lungs. “Je suis désolé, mademoiselle. I’m not sure how to answer that,” he said, exhale releasing a cloud of smoke into the air.

You laughed, a high-pitched giggle that turned you back to face him, his free hand stuffed in his pocket like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. “Usually people answer compliments with another thank you, but it’s no matter.” You forced another small sound up out of you, suddenly unsure exactly what to do next.

He was… not what you’d been expecting, and the usual turn of events wasn’t progressing as it should have been. The Duke was supposed to be an intimidating man, one who knew what he wanted and would take it without question. That's what you'd heard, anyway. You were starting to wonder if what Buggy had told you were nothing but rumors.

Waving the comment off, you made your way back to the vanity, checking that your scarlet lipstick had not smeared. His lingering gaze still traced against every curve of your body, and you stuck your hips out further, leaning towards the mirror with a small grin. “I apologize I didn’t have time to change. I wasn’t expecting you here so soon.”

The Duke nodded, only slowly processing your words before tapping on the cigarette. “Oh, there’s… no need.” Then, he shook his head, blinking, as if cringing internally. “Unless you’re uncomfortable. In that case, I’ll um… turn around.”

You laughed, hiccuping as the quick gulps of champagne came bubbling up inside of you. “Well, it’s no matter, really. I’m sure they’ll come off soon enough.” The comment was meant to be a simple segue into the rather normal routine of your work, low and seductive.

Instead, his eyes went wide, cheeks flushed as he looked, quite pointedly, anywhere but you. “No,” his voice rang at a higher pitch as you stalked towards him, your glass of champagne drained and discarded. “No, I’d really rather you keep them on, actually.”

You blinked, a bit puzzled by that. But it wasn’t the strangest request you’d ever gotten, and you were determined to please him, just as Buggy had requested. “Alright. Whatever you want, amour.”

Like a cat, you crept up to the Duke, splaying your hands across his chest. A small sound left his throat, cheeks turning a darker shade as he took a step back, grasping for words. Your hand fisted his tie, satisfied by his reaction as you followed his stumbling lead back towards the bed.

“How would you prefer to start?” you whispered, as his knees hit the edge of the heart-shaped mattress, legs buckling until he was flat on his back, gawking up at you from the bed. “I admit you are a hard one to read. Just say the word, I can be whatever you want.”

You scrambled on top of his thighs, dress hiked up to reveal the smoothness of your own legs, which quickly caught his attention.

“I-I’m not sure that we’re on the same page here,” he said, swallowing, though watching every one of your movements with rapt attention.

You plucked the cigarette from his lips, and took a long drag, smiling down at him.

The smoke filled your lungs, calming your nerves marginally. They were cheap cigarettes — not those usually desired by the nobility, but who were you to judge for odd preferences? He’d found his way here to you, after all.

“No?” you answered softly, taking one more long inhale of the cigarette before you leaned forward, placing it into the ashtray, still burning. There was a long streak of red from your lipstick, staining the thin cylinder of white. “Then what is it that you’re here for?”

He exhaled, fingers reaching up along your thighs, the touch so featherlight that you almost weren’t sure it was even there. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten the question entirely, jaw slackened as he stared at you above him, before he swallowed, and sat up on his forearms.

The movement brought your faces even closer together, his nose just centimeters from brushing your own. It was then you realized just how blue his eyes were, the color illuminated by the dim candlelight, deep hues of turquoise and navy swirling together to create a stormy sea. His thick, blonde eyelashes fluttered closed as he blinked at you, and the movement alone brought you out of your stupor, his voice raspy upon each syllable.

“I’m here for the play…?”

You drew back, needing a moment to breathe as you squinted your eyes to study him. It was rare for you to get a client like him, wealthy, but so uncertain, a charm about him that you couldn’t quite pin. They were never as handsome either, most far older than you, willing to throw cash at a younger, beautiful woman.

Questions raised at the back of your mind, desperate to be asked, but you ignored them, beaming as you angled your head. “Ah. Of course. The play.” Your voice was saccharine, octaves higher than your usual volume. “What is my role, then?” you asked, tugging off his tie as you leaned into him, your lips just barely brushing his own. His breath was hot against your mouth, a hint of cheap alcohol still lingering on his breath. “I’m far too used to being the seductress, but I can be the damsel in distress, if you’d prefer that.”

“Your role…” It was said more to himself than anything, not stopping you as your fingers began to unbutton his starched white shirt. You tilted your head forward, noses brushing together as you rested your forehead against his.

The air grew warm between you, and for a moment, a beautiful, fleeting second, you lost yourself. Your grip on his top grew slack, fingertips caressing the warm expanse of his chest. He breathed into your mouth, and your eyes fell shut, letting him connect his lips to your own, the moment exploding in a rush of beautiful, ruby fireworks.

And you were keen, then, to let him do whatever he would have wanted, his touch so featherlight and gentle, you wondered if you could have fallen in love with him. How quickly your heart, coated in steel and another layer of iron, betrayed you, dropping from your own chest right into the palms of the man that you needed as a savior.

But the moment did not last so long, and your vulnerability evaporated as quickly as the layer of dew beyond la Seine. As if coming back to himself, he choked, pulled away from your lips and pushed you back by the shoulders, staring at you with wide eyes and warm, tinted cheeks.

You paused, watching as he rushed to his feet like he couldn’t get up fast enough. How easily the mood had soured, even as he muttered one apology after another, unable to meet your gaze.

The Duke’s hands were shaky as he held the cigarette to his mouth, eyes fixated on the ceiling. He had plucked the same one back up from the ashtray, the streak of your bold, crimson lipstick imprinted on the end of it.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, hoping the worry wasn’t obvious in your words. If there was a problem, you were desperate to fix it. You couldn’t afford to ruin this, not when so many things were at stake.

He hesitated, another cloud of smoke leaving his mouth as he waved his hand around, ash falling from the cigarette. “I’m sorry — I’m sorry. I can’t focus when you’re,” he swallowed, cheeks burning, despite the hardness very obvious in his pants, “looking at me like that.”

“Focus?” you said in gentle confusion, eyebrows pinched tighter, as the beginnings of a dreadful realization dawned upon on you.

Feeling discarded on the bed, you sat and watched as he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, straightening like it was an important doctrine, before clearing his throat, and reciting a beautifully composed poem.

The words were horrifically romantic, each line strung into another as if they had been pieced together by his very own heartstrings. And though you had not processed a single word, it had still struck a cord down deep in your weathered heart, and you continued to stare, sick with your own shame.

It was beautiful — hauntingly so — a poem of love that could rival even the greatest of French writers. But, all you could think about was the pounding in the back of your mind, the panic steadily rising up within you.

“You’re here for a play. An actual play,” you said stupidly, gaping back at him, your entire body going rigid with embarrassment. “You’re serious.” No longer was your tone beautifully high-pitched, innocent despite your sensuality. It had lowered in horror, your eyes going wide as you realized that all of this was a terrible, terrible misunderstanding.

Which seemed a lackluster reaction to whatever he was looking for, and he frowned, tilted his head back before heavily inhaling another puff of smoke. “Well, I suppose I would prefer that sort of reaction to hearing that my writing is awful. The play wasn’t my idea, just for the record.”

“Writer?” you screeched, scrambling to your feet. “You’re not a Duke? Not the Duke?”

His eyebrows lifted, searching your face for any hint of a joke, and when he found none, he laughed, face splitting beautifully with a smile. He gestured to himself like he was amazed you would even think so, his suit hardly of the latest fashions, the cufflinks a dulling silver.

Which, in hindsight, was truly a marvelous mistake.

“No, I am not a duke.” His forehead wrinkled, and he, finally, stamped the cigarette out on the ashtray, subtly putting the stub back into his pocket. “Is that why you thought I couldn’t speak French? Je viens de Paris. I thought that was obvious.” Once more, he laughed, smiling in a manner that was far too out of place for the situation. Then, just as dramatically, his face fell, eyes going wide with concern. “Hold on. Did you not know that I would be here?”

“No!” you exclaimed, putting your finger to his chest as you shot forward, glaring with the heat of a thousand suns. Your features morphed into something horrible, though you doubted it was as intimidating as you hoped. “No, I have been waiting on a Duke, not some amateur, impoverished writer from this dreadful city I regret ever stepping foot in. And if you tell me that you’re another one of Luffy’s tragic bohemian protégés—”

He smiled sheepishly, tilting his head before you could even finish your sentence. “Well. First of all, I wouldn’t say I’m an amateur.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, a sound leaving your throat in dismay as another voice — the exact voice you were hoping not to hear — called out from the window.

“Sanji!” Luffy said, a headful of black hair falling over the side, grinning at both of you. “How’s it going? Have you convinced her yet?”

“No!” you shouted, already rushing towards the window, shooing Luffy away. Over and over you repeated the word, Luffy merely swinging back and forth from whatever rope he’d tied himself to, more amused than anything “Get out of here, Luffy! I should’ve known it was you that put him up to this.”

For years, Luffy had been trying to recruit you, hoping you'd be an actress in one of his performances, and that the Moulin Rouge would be the place that funded it.

With his endless confidence, Luffy was certain that one day, he would create the best production in the history of Paris. But you were certainly skeptical of his ideas ever taking off, Buggy even more-so, and he refused to put even a single franc towards funding any of Luffy's productions.

Despite the rejection, you continued to get pestered, Luffy somehow convinced that he could help you become an established actress quicker than your current occupation could.

Luffy laughed, still with the audacity to ask if you liked Sanji’s writing, and you pushed his head back out the window, muttering profanities to yourself.

“Who’s with you? Usopp? Zoro? I’m going to kill all three of you!”

You yelled that last bit louder, just to be sure the two men you knew were up on the roof could hear you as well. And, just as expected, a muttered string of words escaped Zoro, and a much louder, panicked sound came from Usopp.

They peeked their heads into the window with Luffy.

“I tried to stop him,” Usopp said, wailing as Zoro hushed him, his dark eyes clouded with regret. “I knew it was a horrible plan, I’m so sorry.”

Your lips drew into a thin line, unconvinced, despite all the theatrics. “I want you all out! Get back up there before—”

Footsteps started up the stairs, and your eyes went wide, panicked as the voices of Buggy and the Duke, the real duke, started up the stairs.

“Leave!” you hissed, shoving Luffy and Usopp back out the window, before turning to face Sanji, who was rather uselessly standing in the middle of the floor. Groaning, you gripped him by the arm, pulling him across the room as you scanned for a good hiding spot. “Hide. I need you to hide. He can’t see you.”

“What’s going on?” Sanji asked. “Luffy told me—”

You released a sharp laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I’m certain Luffy told you a lot of things,” you huffed, letting your hand slip down into his own as you dragged him into a corner of the room. “Unfortunately, Luffy’s plans are sometimes too grand, and he needs someone to bring him down to Earth. Which you, clearly, did not do and now—”

Your name was called out from behind the door, and you cursed, pushing Sanji into the corner of the room, near the vanity. “Stay there. Just… hide under something!”

“Where?”

But the door was already opening, and you scrambled into a chair, running your fingers across your hair to make sure you seemed somewhat presentable. You brought your legs up under you, lowering your gaze to bat your eyelashes as the Duke and Buggy entered the room, both staring at you with intrigue.

“Here she is,” Buggy said, gesturing towards you with a curious look in his eye, a dark smile forming on his painted face. There was a warning there, one that you were not foolish enough to ignore. “My beautiful diamond. Hopefully just as lovely as she was up on the stage tonight.”

The Duke’s regard for you was hardly passionate, though you could see a sliver of desire under all the layers of intimidation. He was a tall man, dark hair falling to his shoulders in thick strands. A long scar ran across his cheekbones, over the bridge of his nose, and he looked down at you, studying every piece of you like you were nothing more than a decoration to admire.

You waited for him to say something, but it was clear he was waiting for the same, and you stood, perhaps too rapidly, and made your way over to him.

“Monsieur, what a pleasure it is to meet you,” you smiled, if only to ease the anxiety strung through your body. Dipping your head, you looked back up at him with siren eyes, “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit.”

The Duke paused for another moment, studying you before taking your hand, and kissing it softly. It was a soothing gesture, despite the intensity of his eyes. Tension seeped gradually from your shoulders.

“The pleasure is mine, my dear,” he said, his voice deep, raspy. “And there’s no need for such pleasantries when we’ll be acquainted soon enough.” His thumb ran across your cheek, before his hand fell back to his side. “I’d prefer Crocodile.”

Buggy, just feet behind the Duke, began to back away, exhaling in relief. “Well, I will leave you to it, then. And—”

That was all he could get out, as the scene shattered.

Before Buggy could make his escape, a sound came from the window, a yelp, then an echoing shout, as Luffy, Usopp and Zoro fell down from the window, swinging into the room from the dangling rope. They landed in a somersaulting heap, just inches from where Sanji had been hiding, and your jaw slackened, before your entire body stiffened once more.

Not a word rang through the room as you stared at the three of them, Crocodile sliding his gaze over to you for an explanation. The silence was tangible, heavy with uncertainty.

A nervous laugh left Buggy, but it was quickly cut off as Usopp pulled both Zoro and Luffy up by their coats, and exclaimed, “Are you ready for rehearsal?”

“Rehearsal…” you muttered, and at the same time, Crocodile posed the words as a question, his eyes narrowed, unamused.

“I wasn’t aware that there were other things going on this evening,” he said.

“Ah,” you continued, keeping yourself composed as you moved to stand in front of him. “Non, there’s nothing going on we just…” Internally you cursed, over and over, glancing at Buggy, who was near to shouting at Luffy, the two of them locked in a stand-off. There would be no help from any of them it seemed, as they waited for your reaction.

You placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of Crocodile, softening your expression into one of expectation. “Well, I know this isn’t what you had in mind, monsieur, but we thought now would be a good time to introduce you to our new production… Right, Buggy? While we’re all here together, of course. A once in a while opportunity.”

You smiled, eyes narrowing exaggeratedly at Buggy, before the obvious question became clear to him.

“Oh,” he nodded slowly, before bursting into the same smile he always used for your shows. “Right. Of course. Our new show—”

“Which, we have written specifically for you, Sir, if you would be so keen on investing.” You took Crocodile’s arm gently, leading him past the chair where Sanji was hiding, hopeful he would reacquaint himself with the rest of the troupe. And, as if reading your mind, Sanji scrambled to his feet, standing alongside Zoro and Usopp like he’d been there all along.

You exhaled softly, continuing to the Duke, “It was going to be a surprise, but we supposed it would be best for you to see it now, before we started any production. You are so wise with your investments, we didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

Crocodile gave you an odd look, and for a moment, you weren’t sure he believed you. Then, you flashed him a hopeful smile, naive under all the great bravado, and he relented, amused by your earnestness.

“Well, I am not usually interested in investing in such small ordeals, but…” He waved a hand, before running the other down the breadth of your spine, a touch that was near possessive. “If it stars our lovely diamond, it is sure to be a hit, no?”

You relaxed, making a show of leaning into his advances.

“Of course,” Buggy proclaimed, far too intense for your liking, as he tried to ease the Duke back out of the Elephant Room. “Would you like to get started on paperwork? How about we work out the details, and we’ll find another evening for you and—”

Crocodile raised a hand, the room swiftly silenced. “I need to know the story first, before we handle business. Not even the most beautiful of stars can carry a dying universe, I’m afraid.” He turned to you, his eyes so intense it was hard to muster up the courage to speak.

“Story?” You blinked, your smile falling. “Yes. Right. The story. Well, that’s an excellent question, and you would be certain to ask that, of course…” You looked to Buggy, then Usopp, who seemed all too happy to blend in with the shadows. Then to Zoro, who stood stiffly, and shrugged. Finally, your eyes landed on Luffy, who was grinning wildly and pushing Sanji forward, far too excited that this was all taking place.

“Here’s our writer,” Luffy proclaimed, patting Sanji on the back before taking a step away and crossing his arms. “Go on and tell them.”

Which was a way to say the play hasn’t been written yet, and we’re making this all up as we go, in less obvious words.

You wanted to melt into the floor, curl away from the hot palm that still rested on the small of your back, as you stared at Sanji helplessly, begging him to come up with an answer.

And while the time seem to pass far too slowly for your liking, he didn’t even fumble for words as he nodded to you, dragging his eyes across the audience that was watching him expectantly.

“It’s about love,” he said smoothly, confidence seemingly regained now that you weren’t the only person in the room. “It’s about love overcoming all obstacles.”

His eyes met yours once again, so deeply blue and beautiful. Against your better judgment, your heart surged out of your chest.

“Yes! And it’s set in Switzerland!” Luffy exclaimed, laughing with delight.

“No, no,” Sanji snapped, before recovering his story, mind working rapidly as he thought up a tale that would be imaginative enough to spark the interest of the Duke. “It’s set on the seas!” Then he lowered his overexcited voice, the words softening with adoration. “And there’s a courtesan. The most beautiful courtesan in the world.”

Sanji's gaze fixed on you, and you blinked away, hating that awful feeling that bloomed in your heart. Still, a small smile tugged at your lips, one that you hid from everyone else.

“But,” he said, tearing his attention away from you. “Her city’s been invaded by an evil pirate Warlord. Now, in order to save her kingdom, she has to seduce the evil Warlord. But, on the night of her seduction, she mistakes a penniless… A penniless…” He looked around helplessly, licking his lips. “A penniless cook, and she falls in love with him. He wasn’t trying to trick her, but he was dressed as a prince because… well… he was trying to infiltrate the Warlord’s headquarters.”

“And I will play the captain of the crew that the cook works on!” Usopp interjected, taking a step in front of Sanji, his arms raised high with excitement, far too proud of himself.

You coughed down a laugh as Crocodile regarded him with an impatient look. “Alright... What happens next?”

Sanji spared a quick scowl to Usopp, before regaining the attention of everyone in the room, weaving each word with precision. “Well, the cook and the courtesan, they are to hide their love from the evil Warlord—”

“With the help of their actual Captain, who has magical powers where he’s made out of rubber!” Luffy, this time, decided to add his own artistic storytelling, which silenced the entire room from skepticism.

Sanji blinked, hesitant. “Yes, well, that part’s still in the works,” he promised Crocodile, waving his hand dismissively. “There’ll be a crew, with a swordsman and a navigator… and of course the Warlord will have his own set of pirates working for him. It’s a grand production, the embodiment of the Bohemian ideals…”

Sanji continued the story, crafting a plot of truth, beauty, freedom and love. But you were focused only on him, the passion with which he spun the tale, softening at the tragic romance that would take place between the courtesan and the cook. Every so often, your eyes would meet, and you would smile, if only slightly, with encouragement, enough to keep up his unwavering confidence until the end.

"The finale hasn't been written yet,” he admitted, wrapping up his summary of the unfinished play, as the rest of you huddled around Crocodile for a reaction, his face dreadfully unreadable. “But—”

“We would love to get you involved artistically,” Buggy interrupted, excited by the prospects of the thrilling production and an investor. “If you have any suggestions.”

A tense ten seconds passed, as Crocodile regarded each one of you, thoughtful. “The story could use some work,” he mused. “But, generally I like it.”

An eruption of cheers burst out from each of you, and you smiled, giggling as you leaned into the Duke, hopeful that your gratitude was evident. Across the room, Sanji relaxed, lighting up another cigarette, and Buggy gestured forward, talking at such a rapid speed you were certain his words were slurring together.

“Come, come with me,” he said, ushering Crocodile out of the room. “We’ll talk business.”

Crocodile followed, but spared one last moment for you, as you followed the two men to the door, guiding him out.

“I apologize that our evening together was different than anticipated,” you said, as genuinely as you could, tracing a hand down his chest. “Perhaps another night would be best for us to talk.”

“Perhaps.” He hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his smile widening crookedly. “I still need to get acquainted with our star. Fame will suit you, my dear.”

You smiled, a surge of pride overcoming you, one so strong that you couldn’t even wallow in the discomfort of his touch. “I look forward to it.”

The two of you parted, the moment evaporating as Crocodile followed Buggy out the door. And, when it finally slammed shut behind the two of them, you exhaled, all of the anxiety leaving your body in a flush.

The four other men went silent as you whirled on them, expressions dour as they waited for you to be the first to speak. Sanji’s jaw was tight as he looked away from the door, back to you, regarding you with an unreadable expression.

But, you were still reeling on your success, too excited to care about the anger you’d felt earlier. You broke into a cheerful grin, rushing to throw your arms around the young ring-leader. “Luffy,” you said, close to weeping. Things weren’t over yet, but there was a parting in the clouds, a sun shining through, as the hope of a future, a better one, became real. “Thank you. For the first time, one of your ridiculous plans actually worked. I’m very grateful.”

He smiled like it was nothing, and your laughter became infectious, bubbling out of you in an effort to keep down your tears. You turned to the other two, both watching you curiously.

“Usopp, thank you for that wonderful recovery. I’m not sure what we would have done if you’d not planned an emergency rehearsal.”

He grinned wide, puffing his chest out. “Ah, well, I knew someone had to act fast.”

Lastly, you turned to the green-haired man, and his name sooner died on your lips, when you realized he had contributed very little. “Zoro. You were useless actually.”

Sanji snorted, and though Zoro’s face twitched, he didn’t bother saying anything to the writer. “You looked like you had it handled.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well. I suppose we did.” You rolled your eyes, your mood suddenly deflating. The high of panic and elation had worn on you, leaving you with an ache in the back of your head, your hands still jittery. “Anyway, I’ve just about had all the fun I can handle for one night—”

“Uh-huh,” Zoro scoffed, a jab at your rather unconventional occupation.

You ignored him, pushing them all towards the door. “—I am very grateful for your help in getting our new investor, but we’ve got a busy week ahead, and I would like some rest. So, leave.”

They all held their hands up in surrender, and while Sanji hadn’t been a part of the group you’d been addressing, he slowly followed when Luffy called out to him. There was talk of throwing a party across the street, at the dingy apartment complex that all the Bohemians lived in, despite it being late already.

The four of them made to leave, waving enthusiastically as they rushed down the stairs, far too worked up to be quiet. Sanji lagged behind them, giving you a kind smile before making his exit, a soft bonne nuit, escaping his lips.

“Sanji…” You called out, just before he closed the door behind him, his hand resting on the frame. Sanji turned, glancing over his shoulder, bright eyes pinning you right where you stood. “I’m sorry. So very sorry for the misunderstanding.” You waved your hand, drawing your fingers across your face to rest on your cheeks, already warm with shame. “I feel horrible.”

He paused, before a a grin split his face, irises burning with soft intensity. “Don’t,” he said, exhaling a laugh. “I enjoyed it, actually.”

thank u so much for reading and for all the endless support!! i appreciate you all so very much ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

tagging those who rb'd / commented <3 pls let me know if you'd like to be added !

@cerberels / @keeper-of-my-heart / @chuuminn / @eussstasss / @mncxbe / @tetzoro / @msheds0519 / @awealuc / @akuma-coffee / @stunie / @chositooo / @piichuu

#ok i am so shy sob i hope someone out there enjoys it !! let me run away and hide now </3 #i think i've been reading through it too much bc now i'm starting to be like no. this sounds bad #i love the banner though it turned out so cute hehe #and in case u wanted to know i'm almost done w part 2 also so i should have it completed by next week <3 #also pls correct me if my french is ever wrong i am using this as an opportunity to practice but i'm still a very much a beginner SDFHS #let me stop yapping i don't want people to be disappointed i feel like i hyped myself up too much LMAO #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #op x reader #x reader #opla x reader #opla x y/n #opla x you #opla sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #one piece sanji x reader

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genshinluvr · 1 year ago

Text

To be Reborn

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Vidyadhara!Isekai'd!Reader (Reincarnation AU)

Summary: Waking up in Scalegorge Waterscape, you have no recollection of your past life. You are reborn— you are a Vidyadhara— hatched from an egg. A young blond boy awaits your rebirth, the same boy who volunteers to be your protector. Your past life remains a mystery. Your relationship with three particular men remains a mystery as they gaze at you longingly from a distance. Sometimes, it's a curse to be reborn.

Note: Before any of y'all come at me, the relationship between Yanqing and the reader is strictly platonic. Imagine a protective little brother. I'm glad I was able to type this out and get it posted because this idea has been on my mind for a little bit. So, did anyone get Dan Heng IL? :3 I got him with one pull, and that makes me happy and relieved. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mentions of blood, Nanook doesn't make an appearance in this fic :<

Word Count: 4.3k

You’re floating in the sea of darkness, floating around aimlessly. You can’t tell if your eyes are open or if they’re closed. You can’t move your arms or legs, and you feel like you’re underwater. The sounds around you are muffled, making it seem like you’re underwater. You have no recollection of how you ended up in this situation. Your mind is blank; no memories are rushing back to you. Your brain is a blank slate— the only thing you can recall is your name, and that’s it. Everything else? You have no memories of it.

Your ears twitch at the sound of faint cracking around you. Light gradually breaks through the endless darkness. The cracking gets louder and louder, and before you know it, the world around you is flooded with brightness, and you fall to the ground. Well, you land on top of someone. You open your eyes to see bright gold eyes staring at you with awe and worry.

“Are you okay?” The young blond boy asks, helping you up from the ground.

You rub your head and look around, dazed and confused. “Yes. I’m fine, thank you,” you reply hesitantly.

You notice a giant egg resting beside you, cracked eggshells on the ground and on your clothes. Did you come from that egg? You look at the young boy, who notices your confusion almost immediately. The blond boy smiles and rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks turning bright pink.

“I hope you don’t mind me waiting here for you to hatch. General Jing Yuan has spoken about you many times, and I wanted to meet you myself,” says the young boy.

General Jing Yuan? The young boy continues to ramble while you stare at him cluelessly, scanning your surroundings. This place… it feels familiar, but you don’t remember anything. You shake your head and rub your throbbing temples, sighing.

“Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself! My name is Yanqing! I am General Jing Yuan’s retainer! I hope you don’t mind me being the first person you meet after being rebirthed,” says Yanqing, smiling at you sweetly.

You have many questions to ask, but it seems like your questions will be unanswered for the time being. Which you don’t mind. However, what bothers you is your lack of memory. Yanqing tilts his head to the side, gazing at you worriedly.

You snap out of your stupor and smile at Yanqing. “It’s nice to meet you, Yanqing. My name’s—”

“[Y/N], I know your name already because General Jing Yuan would go on and on about you,” Yanqing nods, smiling at you boyishly.

Cute. You want to pinch Yanqing’s cheeks until he smacks your hand away from his face. You smile at Yanqing, still confused about how he knows your name. Yanqing’s smile slips off his face when the realization hits him.

You brush off the look he’s giving you and point at the egg. “How long were you waiting for me to be reincarnated?”

Yanqing looks away, rubbing the back of his neck while giggling awkwardly. You cross your arms over your chest, gazing at Yanqing with amusement. Yanqing is like an adorable little brother who’s attached to his older siblings and is protective of them, but he doesn’t want to show it because he doesn’t want to be teased for it.

“Not long, but I would come here every day to check up on you,” Yanqing mutters, kicking a pebble close by and watching it clatter on the ground.

You press your lips into a thin line and pat Yanqing’s head. Yanqing silently fumes and turns away with a small huff, crossing his arms over his chest while puffing his cheeks out. You snicker and pull your hand back, sitting on the ground beside the egg you emerged from.

Yanqing sits beside you, looking at you curiously. “Do you really not have any recollection of your past memories?” Yanqing asks.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t have any of my past memories, Yanqing. Am I supposed to?”

Yanqing exhales slowly and leans back on his arms, kicking his feet back and forth as he debates on what to say. You’re a long-life species with draconic features— a Vidyadhara. Your hair cascades down your back as your tail sways behind you. Your tail and horns are a light pink, almost pastel pink. You look breathtaking, even more breathtaking compared to how General Jing Yuan described you.

You turn to look at the young boy beside you, who blinks at you before turning away. Yanqing hums and nods.

“Yes, you’re supposed to remember your past lives when you reincarnate. Many long-life species remember their past lives and their past lovers,” Yangqing says nonchalantly.

It must be nice to be able to remember your past lives and people in your past. Why is it different for you? How come you’re the only person (well, you’re assuming you’re the only person) who doesn’t remember their past life despite being reincarnated? Maybe you’re the odd one out.

“That’s unfortunate for me. I don’t remember my past life. I only know my name,” you sigh, leaning against the hollow egg you emerged from.

Yanqing hums, tapping on his chin. “Maybe General Jing Yuan can help you recover your memories!” Yanqing says.

You pucker your lips and hug your legs. It’d be nice to have someone help you “regain” your memories, but their memories will be different from your past memories. Then again, what do you know? You only remember your name, and from what Yanqing has told you, it sounds like you and this General Jing Yuan person have some kind of history with each other.

Your conversation with Yanqing was cut short when both of you heard footsteps approaching your direction. You and Yanqing get off the ground and turn to see a large group of people standing before you two. The four men look at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t help but notice they all have long hair, aside from the others in the group accompanying the four men.

“[Y/N]...” The man with long black hair whispers.

He, too, has horns sprouting from the top of his head. You look at Yanqing, who glares at the four men before standing in front of you as if he’s protecting you from the four newcomers and their guests. The man with white hair smiles at you and Yanqing ruefully. You place your hand on Yanqing’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile when he turns to look at you.

Despite giving Yanqing a reassuring smile, Yanqing continues to keep his guard up, glaring at the four men before him. You sigh and cross your arms over your chest, looking away from the four men. Everything to you is a mystery. Your past, the four men standing before you and Yanqing, your history with this General Jing Yuan person.

The white-haired man narrows his eyes at Yanqing. “Am I missing something, Yanqing?” the white-haired man asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

The man with long, dark hair chuckles bitterly. “It seems like your lapdog is protective of [Y/N],” he says, his red eyes landing on you.

Yanqing growls and holds his sword in front of him. You can’t help but stare at the ground, drowning out the sounds and voices around you. There are whispers in your head, whispers that are loud enough for you to assume it’s all around you. You bite the inside of your cheek, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to listen closely. The whispers are not only loud, but they’re incoherent. You can’t understand what the voices are saying, and it bothers you. Why are the voices loud yet quiet at the same time? You subconsciously reach your temples, rubbing them as a headache forms.

“[Y/N]?”

You snap out of your stupor and look up to see the four mysterious men (and Yanqing and the other guests) gazing at you worriedly. You blink and sigh, shoulders slumping. Could the voices be from your past life? Whatever the voices are, it’s causing you nothing but confusion and frustration. How long have you been spacing out?

The blond man looks at you worriedly. “What’s the matter? You look frustrated,” says the blond man.

You give him a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m fine,” you reply hesitantly.

The man with horns raises his eyebrows at you, looking at you worriedly. You’re not entirely comfortable with telling these men your situation. While they know your name, you don’t know theirs. Yanqing moves closer to you, whispering into your ears and telling you each of the men’s names.

“I don’t have much recollection of my past life, but I heard you all know me. Or I knew all of you,” you say nervously while playing with the billowing sleeves of your hanfu.

The white-haired man— also known as General Jing Yuan— nods and gestures for you and Yanqing to follow him and the other three men beside him. The pink-haired girl steps forward, smiling at you while shaking her legs nervously.

The pink-haired girl clears her throat nervously. “You may not know me, but my name is March 7th! But you can call me March! These two are Caelus and Welt Yang,” says March, gesturing to the older man with brown hair and glasses and the silver-haired man standing beside him.

You smile at the trio before walking ahead with Yanqing sticking by your side. You look around in awe. The more you walk further out of this place, the more you see things you have never seen before. Well, you probably did in the past, but everything is new to you.

Yanqing gently nudges you, glancing over at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“This place is hauntingly beautiful. Where are we, Yanqing?” You ask, passively looking at the other Vidyadhara eggs as you and Yanqing walk by.

How long have you been in the egg you have hatched from? The young boy beside you smiles at you and crosses his arms over his chest. You may have known Yanqing for less than an hour, but Yanqing can’t help but pride himself in being the first person you trust. Unlike the four particular men— well, three men, but he digresss— who have been anticipating your reincarnation.

“We are currently leaving the Scalegorge Waterscape! If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them!” Yanqing announces proudly, propping his hands on his hips.

You smile and pat Yanqing’s head as he leads you out of Scalegorge Waterscape with the others following behind. Scalegorge Waterscape is like another world to you— a secret world only certain people are allowed to know of its existence.

You hum softly. “How much do you know about my past life, Yanqing? You mentioned how General Jing Yuan would go on and on about me. What has he told you about me?” You ask, crossing your arms over his chest.

That piqued the three Xianzhou men’s interest and curiosity while General Jing Yuan’s smile slipped off his face. General Jing Yuan clears his throat as he slowly picks up his pace to catch up to you and Yanqing. Mostly Yanqing. Yanqing taps on his chin as he racks his brain, trying to recall what the white-haired General said about you.

Yanqing’s eyes light up. “Ah! I remember! There’s this drink on the Xianzhou Luofu, and it’s incredibly sweet. Whenever General Jing Yuan sees someone drinking it at the Seat of Divine Foresight, the General would be like, ‘I remember the time when [Y/N] would sneak out at night and buy Immortals Delight with Dan Feng. They were caught in the act by not only myself but by Yingxing as well,’” Yanqing says, mocking the white-haired General’s voice.

‘Immortals Delight?’ you mouthed to yourself, trying to remember what the drink looked like and what it tasted like for your past self to be obsessed with the drink to the point where you and this Dan Feng person had to sneak out and buy it. Yanqing continues to rack through his memories before smiling widely.

“The General would also talk about how the blooming flowers remind him of—” A hand quickly covers Yanqing’s mouth, shutting the young boy up before he can continue.

You stop in your tracks and look to see General Jing Yuan covering the blond boy’s mouth with his hand. You and General Jing Yuan lock eyes for a moment while Yanqing thrashes around in General Jing Yuan’s grasp, trying to remove the General’s hands from his face. You press your lips into a thin line and cover your mouth with your hands to muffle your laugh.

Mr. Yang smiles and looks at Caelus and March, chuckling. “It looks like the General has fond memories of [Y/N],” says the brown-haired man.

Caelus snorts. “Yeah, very fond memories of [Y/N],” Caelus chuckles.

After some time, General Jing Yuan releases Yanqing. Yanqing huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at the white-haired General before scrambling over to you. Yanqing throws your arm around his shoulders, catching the others by surprise. You chuckle, and pat Yanqing’s head before the two of you continue your way toward the main entrance of Scalegorge Waterscape. While walking up the steps, Yanqing turns to look at the other four men— specifically Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, General Jing Yuan, and Blade— before sticking his tongue out at them and turning back around to start a conversation with you.

“I think it’s weird how, allegedly, long-life species remember their past lives, but [Y/N] doesn’t remember theirs,” the indigo-haired man says, propping his hands on his hips.

The blond man in armor rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not ‘allegedly’ when there’s plenty of evidence about it, Sampo,” the blond man says.

Once you all arrive at the entrance of Scalegorge Waterscape, you turn to the others before scanning the surroundings once more. You don’t think you will be returning to Scalegorge Waterscape, or at least not in the near future.

A man with his hair in a half-ponytail speaks up, “Why do you look glum?”

You blink at him and the other unfamiliar faces. Caelus slaps his forehead before introducing you to the three extra people you weren’t introduced to— Sampo, Gepard, and Luka. The two men, Gepard and Luka, smile at you politely. At the same time, Sampo magically pulls a comb out of thin air, combing his hair before strutting toward you. However, before Sampo can reach you, Yanqing stands in front of you, pointing the tip of his sword in Sampo’s direction with a murderous glare.

“I wouldn’t get any closer if I were you,” Yanqing hisses.

Sampo holds his hands up. “Whoa there, little guy! I mean no harm!” Sampo says, smiling at Yanqing nervously.

Yanqing glowers at the nickname Sampo gave him before looking at the white-haired General. General Jing Yuan chuckles, walking toward you, Yanqing, and Sampo. General Jing Yuan stands behind you and Yanqing, placing both hands on your and Yanqing’s shoulders while smiling politely at Sampo. On the surface, General Jing Yuan is calm. Still, on a deeper level, the white-haired General is mildly annoyed with the indigo-haired merchant.

General Jing Yuan clears his throat. “Yanqing, stand down. There’s no need for hostility. We’re all friends here, are we not?” asks the General.

Yanqing makes a dissatisfied noise before putting his sword away. Yanqing continues to glare at Sampo, propping his hands on his hips before pointing his index finger at the man.

Yanqing demands, “What were your intentions with [Y/N] when you approached them?”

You look at Yanqing, surprised. You look at Sampo and smile at him before patting Yanqing’s shoulders. Yanqing doesn’t budge and continues to glare at Sampo. You sigh in defeat and look at General Jing Yuan, who’s already staring at you. You visibly wince with surprise before quickly looking away from him, your cheeks getting hot while the General chuckles.

“I see the General’s feelings for [Y/N] have yet disappeared,” Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae murmurs beside Blade, crossing his arms over his chest while watching the scene unfold.

Blade huffs beside Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing at the horned man beside him. “I could say the same thing for you,” Blade says nonchalantly.

Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae ignores the look Blade is giving him, acting like he doesn’t feel or notice an obvious stare from the dark-haired man. Yanqing grumbles to himself before tugging on your arm and pulling you away from the group. You find yourself standing at the docks, doing what you have been doing since you hatched from your egg— look at your surroundings. It bothers you how familiar this place feels, but you can’t remember why.

“Ahem. Care to tell what’s been bothering you?” Luocha asks, now standing beside you as he gazes at the horizon.

Your gaze falls to the ground, feeling the sand beneath your shoes. You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and tap your fingers on your biceps, debating whether you should tell them what’s on your mind. As much as you wanted to say to them what was wrong, you’re sure the others already knew the issue.

You look up at Luocha, who stares at you intently with his sparkling green eyes. You look at the sun setting on the horizon, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms over your chest. It almost feels inappropriate to tell someone your problems, especially when you met them not long ago after being reborn.

“Is there a reason why I’m unable to remember my past life? I find it strange that I’m the only one who can’t remember their past life after being reborn,” you sigh, rubbing your temples.

Everyone looks at Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, General Jing Yuan, and Blade. The three men look just as clueless as the rest. You sigh and smile at them ruefully, waving your hand in front of you while shaking your head.

You sigh, “You know what? Forget I asked that question. Maybe there’s a reason why I don’t remember my past life, and perhaps it’s for the best.” Realization soon kicks in. You turn to the audience behind you and Luocha (and Yanqing), eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “Now that I am reborn, where do I go from here?”

Caelus looks at you questionably. “Care to elaborate on that for the rest of us?” Caelus asks, propping his hands on his hips.

“Do I return to the Xianzhou Luofu, or do I go elsewhere? I don’t have a home per se,” you reply, playing with the billowing sleeves of your hanfu. “This is a new and strange concept for me— not remembering my past life and questioning if I belong on the Xianzhou Luofu.”

The rebirth cycle of a Vidyadhara is something you have never experienced. At least, that’s what you assume. The waves crashing on shore are almost deafening, loud enough to keep you semi-occupied from your thoughts. What did you do to deserve to be put in this situation?

Mr. Yang hums, stroking his chin. “Well, you are always welcome to the Astral Express,” says Mr. Yang.

You look at the brown-haired man curiously. The Astral Express, huh? Sounds like you will be going on lots of adventures if you board the Express. It does sound better than doing nothing on the Xianzhou Luofu, especially when you don’t have a place called home. March’s eyes light up, and she runs toward you, linking her arms around yours. For a brief moment, a flash of panic can be seen in Yanqing’s eyes as he reaches forward, ready to pull March away from you.

What stopped Yanqing from doing so was General Jing Yuan grabbing the young boy by the shoulders and shaking his head. Yanqing huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, grumbling while kicking a pebble close to his feet. March caught you off guard when she linked her arms around yours. You didn’t expect her to be bold enough to touch you (mainly because Yanqing would cut anyone who tried to touch you).

You hum, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “I might consider it, but I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb,” you murmur, pointing to the horns on your head.

You know Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae has horns as well, but he can at least hide his appearance and present himself as a human like the others. You, on the other hand, don’t know if you can do the same. However, having horns and draconic features shouldn’t be a big deal other than dealing with the looks of curiosity from strangers and awkward stares when you make eye contact with the person.

Luka raises his hand to grab your attention. “I have a question. Since Dan Heng can change his appearance, can you change yours as well?” Luka asks, gesturing to the horns on your head.

You subconsciously touch your horns and chew the inside of your cheek. “I’m not sure, Luka. Even if I can’t hide my horns and draconic features, it’s no big deal,” you reply, smiling at the now-blushing man.

You and the others got on the boat to return to the Alchemy Commission. Despite reincarnating and not remembering your past life before being reborn, the Alchemy Commission feels almost as familiar as Scalegorge Waterscape. Although, you can’t help but feel grim when arriving at the Alchemy Commission.

“Does anything feel familiar by any chance?” Gepard asks, walking beside you.

You nod hesitantly. “The Alchemy Commission feels familiar, but I don’t think it’s a good thing. I can’t help but feel uncomfortable,” you reply, subconsciously rubbing your chest while looking around.

Aside from the Mara-struck roaming around the area, the Alchemy Commission looks eerie and empty. Unbeknownst to you and the others not of the Xianzhou faction, something tragic happened to you before your rebirth. Everyone is standing on the ground where you were ambushed and brutally murdered by someone you once trusted. You were lured to the farthest part of the Alchemy Commission, ambushed, and killed by someone you used to consider a friend. By the time Dan Feng (now Dan Heng), General Jing Yuan, and Yingxing arrived at the scene, they were too late. Stricken with anguish, Yingxing, General Jing Yuan, and Dan Feng tracked down your attackers and killed them all.

They remember clutching your lifeless body in their arms, trying to stop the bleeding despite you being dead at the scene. Your clothes are torn and bloodied, your hair matted with blood, and your skin stained with your own blood. The three men remember the giant gaping hole where your heart was supposed to be— crimson blood pooling around you on the concrete as you stare up at the three grief-stricken men with lifeless eyes. Perhaps it’s best for you to remain oblivious of your past. It’s better that way, no matter how much it hurts the three men who hold you close and dear to their hearts.

General Jing Yuan places his hand on your shoulder. “Wherever you choose to stay— be it the Xianzhou Luofu or the Astral Express, you are always welcome to the Xianzhou Luofu,” says General Jing Yuan.

You smile at the white-haired General. “Thank you, General Jing Yuan,” you whisper.

You stop in front of the Aureate Elixir Furnace, staring at the large crucible with curiosity. You hear whispers around you. You look at the people standing around you, wondering if any of them said anything. But none of them were speaking. They’re surveying the area, not saying a word.

“How strange,” you rub the back of your neck before crossing your arms over your chest.

You close your eyes and focus on the voice in the back of your head. The voices don’t belong to you, but the voices sound very angry and sad. The voices are gradually getting louder and louder. You squeeze your eyes shut and duck your head low, your hair falling over your face.

The voice whispers, “We shall reunite one day, [Y/N]. You cannot escape your fate.”

Fate? What’s your fate? Are you in danger by any chance? Could the voices be connected to your past, or does the voice belong to something or someone seeking possible revenge on you?

“Are you alright, [Y/N]?” Blade puts his hands on your shoulders, startling you.

You look up at Blade like a deer caught in headlights. You gulp and smile at him nervously, trying to act normal.

“Yeah! I’m alright! I’m trying to recall my past life, that’s all,” you lie.

Blade and Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae look at you worriedly as you turn to Yanqing, who approaches you with a worried look. Great, more people to worry about you. Yanqing stands beside you and stares at Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae and Blade cautiously before turning to you.

Yanqing holds his arm out for you to take. “Are you hungry? If so, I know a few places on the Xianzhou Luofu that have amazing food,” Yanqing says, giving you a closed-eyed smile.

You smile at Yanqing and loop your arms around his arm. “I am feeling a bit famished,” you murmur.

Yanqing hums thoughtfully, tapping on his chin as he pulls you away from Blade and Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae. While Yanqing is listing out the food on the menu of the restaurant he passively mentioned, the group behind you follows closely.

Luocha looks at General Jing Yuan from the corner of his eyes. “You saw that, right?” Luocha mutters.

General Jing Yuan hums, nodding. “Indeed, I did.”

While your past life will be a mystery to you, the voices in your head seem to not want you to live your new life in peace. Whether the voices in your head are from the voices of those in your past life or are trying to warn you, there’s a strange feeling deep down in your gut, and you can’t put your fingers on it. Whatever it is, it will have to wait.

Note: I know a Vidyadhara has many features, but I like the draconic features. Therefore the reader has draconic features. Oh, and the color of the reader's horns... I couldn't come up with a color, so I chose a random color. If you're not a huge fan of the color I chose, change it to whatever color you desire. It's 5 AM, and I need to sleep, so I hope you guys like this story-ish. I won't be posting any fics for this upcoming week, so keep that in mind. Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @ashwasherelol, @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @wntrsblvd, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sen-nes, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @undecidingfate, @asoulsreverie, @angelmican, @misdollface, @4-34-am, @sxftiebee, @hispasian-otaku, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @vox34, @tsukkikeisimp, @inapileofbooke

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Honkai Star Rail x reader #Honkai Star Rail imagine #Honkai Star rail fanfiction #Honkai Star Rail fanfic #HSR x reader #HSR imagine #HSR fanfiction #HSR fanfic #Dan Heng x reader #Gepard Landau x reader #Sampo Koski x reader #Welt Yang x reader #Blade x reader #Jing Yuan x reader #Luocha x reader #Caelus x reader #Nanook x reader #Luka x reader #genshinluvr

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nintendouniverse2023 · 1 year ago

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Princess Peach: This is very lovely Mario. After a few years of just you and your brother saving the day alongside with your sister just now of rescuing me from The Koopa Empire. It seems that you never learned who to quit.

Mario: He He. I’ve heard that-a. It’s just the Mushroom World, Mushroom Kingdom and You have completed me. I would do anything for my siblings and yourself. I-a love you Peach.

Princess Peach: I love you too Mario. Again, I am so glad you ask Rosalina to bring us here in time for the StarBit falls. It’s really beautiful with all the colors.

Mario: Yeah. It-a is.

*Prefect Idea while Rosalina is singing XD *

youtube

Star bits showcase

#nintendo #princess peach #mario #super mario rebirth show #super mario bros #mario x peach #marieach #peach x mario #star bits #super mario galaxy #super mario au #Youtube

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epickiya722 · 4 months ago

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i literally have an inkling, a tingle in my stomach, that your tengen/yuji au is gonna be true. like aint this the second thing you predicted?

Kid you not when it was announced we had five chapters left I thought "... okay, what will happen to Tengen?"

And now, definitely now, I'm asking the question again.

I mentioned this earlier in another ask but I did get a comment about "the universe aligning to make this fic canon" (talking about His Following) and as much as it amuses me I'm also like "... hehe... wait..."

Going back and rereading some parts, I am now anxious that there may be some parts I did predict. Not exactly, but loosely.

In His Role, I predicted that Nobara would be part of the fight against Sukuna. Wasn't exact but it happened.

I think the other thing I predicted is probably what you're talking (I'm pleasantly surprised you even remembered that) and that's Yuji and Sukuna having a talk... (from this post).

And speaking of that, in this AU (I'm surprised no one asked about this yet), Yuji has connections to the "dead", so he sometimes can talk to those who had cursed energy. (So far, he has been able to talk to Suguru, Kaori and...) Sukuna has indeed been one of those people. Their connection is just a bit more stronger because Sukuna is now a piece of Yuji, he lives on but he's dead and never coming back. (But it's been hinted in the story as to why Sukuna is still a part of him and guess what? Stay tuned for that reveal!)

Yuji denies how he is not Sukuna and Sukuna is not him, but later (in the same chapter) he says this to Choso and Megumi. He tells them pretty much that he accepts that he is Sukuna and Sukuna is him.

And I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THIS HAPPENS!!

HELLO?! "YOU'RE ME"?! "EVEN IF NO ONE ELSE ACCEPTS YOU ALONE CAN LIVE WITH YOU"?!

Rough translation, but still!!

At this point, if the resolution to Tengen is Yuji becoming their vessel, I wouldn't be surprised! Now I'm not getting to hyped up for that to happen, I do have doubts it will but again, Gege is unpredictable (which honestly here for) and anything can happen.

#kiya answers #just kiya's thoughts #kiya writes #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #jjk leaks #jjk 268 #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #tengen jjk #tengen #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #the star's rebirth au #star's rebirth au #itadori yuuji #yuuji itadori

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kiyasepicverse · 3 months ago

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Yeah, here's another chapter! Onto writing the next one!

#kiya writes #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jjk fic series #the star's rebirth au #star's rebirth au #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #yuuji itadori #jjk oc #miyako #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryoumen

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queenendless · 7 months ago

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CRIMSON

A/n: I legit don't know how to title this piece. Inspired by @xo-romiiarts and their artwork.

Also Guns for Hire by Woodkid fits this piece so listen to it while reading this or any song that gives dark!GoGe vibes.

CW ⚠️ : 4.7k worded piece with DARK MATURE themes/depictions of murder/genocide, teen dropouts/runaways, angst, hurt/comfort, romance/fluff, already established poly!teen!GoGe x fem!teen!curse seer!reader, set in an AU where the guys did go through with it ... you have been warned. ⚠️

Cause #261 and fanarts of Gojo saying yes to Geto have given me the push to finally get this out. I have been working on this since September of LAST YEAR SO I hope yall enjoy this.

And I'm working on a pt 2 to this set a few months to a year later of the aftermath. Cause Lord, Clan Head Gojo x Cult Leader Geto x Reader but they're dark now kinda I wanna explore in my own way. With them kids. Their kids. And scene.

*DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, COPY, EDIT, PLAGARIZE, AND OR STEAL MY FANFIC WORK. Rather if you enjoy my fan work, then reblog, like, comment, n follow pls n thnx u.

"You're late, Suguru."

Indeed he was.

"No … I guess you got here fast. There are several Star Religious Group facilities in the city, after all."

Something felt seriously off the moment the snowy-haired sorcerer raised his head.

"Satoru? Is that you?"

The look in his eyes … practically radiating their potent rebirth … a stark contrast to the fading scuffs of blood running down the left half of his face, down both sides of his mouth, weariness evident.

"What happened?"

This was not his Satoru. This one … had seen hell first hand. In a twisted way, they both have today. Literally at death's door.

"I see you already saw Shoko."

"Yeah, she healed me. I'm fine now."

And yet, a long sleeved uniform arm slipped out from under the sheet, swaying a bit til staying still as a lifeless corpse would be.

"No … me being safe doesn't help anything here."

Not when he failed to keep their promise to Riko-chan. She was ready to walk away from the merger with him. Choosing to live for herself rather than follow her pre-chosen fate. Yet, fate had other plans. A cruel one, at that.

"I screwed up. You're not at fault." Gojo sounded so blunt, so calm … willing to accept all the blame for their greatest failure yet.

"Let's head back."

An eerie ringing began penetrating Geto's hearing as the clapping kept going. He chalked that up as an explanation as to why he thought he misheard Gojo's next words.

"Suguru, should we kill these guys? The way I feel right now, I doubt I'd feel anything about it."

As the form of Gojo carrying Amanai's draped body was being overshadowed by the pure white radiance of the smiling clapping cultists, Geto's morality dilemma prodded his mind, unable to meet Gojo's gaze.

"No. There's no point. It looks like there are only common believers here. The masterminds who know about our world have probably fled already. And unlike with the bounty, they won't be able to talk their way out of this. The organization had problems to begin with. It'll be dissolved soon enough."

Geto, standing in the pure white room of morality, starkly contrasted Gojo as he brushed past him and stood in the crimson room of immorality.

"No point, huh? Does there really need to be any point to it?"

Does there need to be a rhyme or reason for them to act on this? Ideally yes. They may be above the laws in most cases, but even sorcerers can't enact vengeance on regular humans. Unless they were curse users or even like the Sorcerer Killer, they couldn't lay a hand on them.

Realistically?

Right now?

The clapping grew louder, mocking him. Antagonizing him.

Gleefully celebrating her death and their own damaged, traumatizing failure.

Geto's left hand curled into a fist.

His morals were conflicting with his personal feelings; his fist shaking in restrained emotion.

His almond eyes, weariness tainting his eyebags, finally looked up.

Out at the clapping, smiling crowd.

"It's very important that there is. Especially for a jujutsu sorcerer."

Even the cruelest scum of the Earth get away scot free, never facing retribution. Darkness grew underneath him, outstretched to reach their seemingly untouchable light, as his fractured moral code made way for his true inner self to finally show its true colors.

"But not us …"

Gojo stiffened. Slightly looking back over his shoulder, peering inside the open doorway, his radiating Six Eyes turned on at the darkened gaze of Geto's eyes slightly looking back in return.

"Not today."

Rage and distraught guides him.

He would right this wrong.

To the bloody damn end.

Now triggered by those firm, final words, Gojo's heightened state strengthened as he set Amanai's body down gently on the hallway floor, the anger he didn't feel on her behalf in his rematch against the fallen Zen'in man was finally making its appearance, intertwining with an unhinged drive for chaos in his blood as a twisted gleam overtook his lips.

Survival of the weakest. Discouragement of the strong. That's how society should be; one where jujutsu sorcerers protect non-sorcerers. That's what he always strived to uphold despite his inner demons. But now… they as sorcerers still failed in the end.

Riko-chan, Kuroi-san, the weak but good ones, now dead by the orchestration of these unforgivable heinous —

"Monkeys." Having seen that monkey assassin's standing corpse himself on his way inside; decimated and dripping with bloodied spilled guts, made Geto wish he could deal the killing blow himself back in Tengen's domain.

This would have to do, feeling ready to puke when he uttered the same word as that scarred mouthed bastard, wincing as the shadowed hole he summoned released his newest curse.

The same cursed worm draped over his shoulder, opening its mouth to pop out the handle of a cursed tool, one Geto pulled out as swiftly as Gojo began ascending to heights unbound, slicing the cursed energized blade through the air as tears sprung from his unforgiving dark eyes.

"DIE!"

Those monkeys' glee changed to confusion then bursting out in waves of panic as the blade grew in length the more Geto spread his cursed energy into it.

Several heads got sliced sideways, splattering blood over some's prime white apparel, kicking off the shrill hysterics.

In an instant, Gojo blips out of sight only to plow through a row of them scurrying ants in his way like the cursed speedster he had become.

Blown off head chunks.

Fists jutted right through their torsos right and outta their spines.

Setting off carnage filled piñatas left and right.

Trained on every weakling in his sight, Gojo's uniform grew darker as more blood seeped further in with each blow.

Reappearing as he grabbed a randomly chosen neck, snapping it in two with ease, before blocking a panicking one that tried socking him from behind, glowing eyes narrowed in as he clenched their fist before ripping their arm right off with swift ease. Their tortured screech is heard one moment, the sound of bones crunching in Gojo's other hand the next.

Through hatred fueled adrenaline, Geto cleaved in them guts to match the mutilated limbs that rolled across the crimson spreaded floor.

Those attempting to flee were squandered as the force field of Limitless smooshed them, splattering the now cracked dented walls; minced red.

Many more sunken noggins soared in the air, sprinkling red from on high.

Screams and splatters became the symphony of Pandemonium.

Flinging the chain around the neck of one, Geto swung them like a chain and ball, crushing many others against the walls.

Those petrified hideous faces get their brains ruptured out; globby chunks vomiting out by mere cursed thought.

Many rammed right into the glass window ceiling, sending cracks racing in its wake, the pure white sunlight becoming a neon red.

Shards of glass rained down, deflected by Limitless as the pair found themselves back to back, watching with callousness as many were skewered like porcupines.

Limbless lumps of lifeless flesh plastered every inch of the once pristine interior from every wall, crevice, and even the ceiling had scarlet drenching it.

Their haggard breaths and sweaty burning faces aside, their dark craving for retribution still lingered in them both.

It wouldn't be enough.

Not until every last member was eviscerated.

Dismissing the worm, Geto scanned the room, trembling at the grotesque aftermath.

His cerise painted hands hung limply at his sides.

Amiss the madness, their residuals were there.

Fortunately they knew to an extent how to hide them. However long those held out, they couldn't waste a moment. Any longer than that spent here meant capture followed by immediate execution.

Feeling himself moving by a firm grasp tugging on his hand, his light headed state transitioned to a frigged one over what they had just committed. The solid squeeze of Gojo's sizzling hand helped pull him further out of his own unsteady mindset.

"Satoru …" He internally felt revolted at having those monkeys wretched blood covering his skin.

"Suguru."

Through the path of red, his closest friend – his ally in genocide – turned to him with cherry-red streaking his unbuttoned jacket and the collared white undershirt, for his glowing – exhausted – eyes were scarred with the brutal truth. Reaching his stained, steadfast hands out for that stained lost face, Gojo rested his forehead against Geto’s, staring into those stricken eyes of one of his most greatest treasures.

"Come with me. Let's get away.”

Blood trickled down from the ceiling, spilling along their hair, staining their faces, but both couldn't care less as they sealed it with a kiss. Lost in the bloody euphoria, relishing in one another's warmth.

The new taste of searing iron overtook the repelling flavor of cursed spirits, overwhelming the pair as Geto clawed at Gojo's back and the latter's hands massaged the former's supple cheeks, bringing muffled moans outta them both.

It feels right … anywhere … as long as it's with each other. It's just right.

Wherever they end up, whatever it may be, may it be nowhere near here whenever whichever sorcerers would be sent to investigate this now scene of massacre.

Once partners in sorcery.

Now partners in crime.

What a send off for them, the newly dropouts.

The clapping halted.

The ringing faded.

Their hearts felt lighter.

But something still felt off.

Someone was missing.

"Y/n." Geto's eyes opened to stare into Gojo's as they parted lips. "We can't leave her behind … we can't …"

Knowing their cursed seer partner probably foresaw the bloody chain of events that had recently just transpired in the last few hours. But knowing how abrupt they can be, maintaining and willing them into your mind’s eye was still a burdening struggle, ergo you being left behind at school for tiring training.

The heavy fog of bloodlust and tension between them lifted for now Geto's eyes lightened at sensing that familiar presence. He knew Gojo sensed it as well, for his glowing eyes followed his lead, taking Riko back in his arms, the duo raced to the surface outside.

You had ran outta the car that dropped you off down the street. You gulped to stifle back the bile at the gory sight of the fallen Zen’in still standing; the bloody puddle reaching for you now.

Your gaze averted once you spotted them coming out, hurrying over, your stomach churning at how scrapped up and red they appeared, but your empathy outweighed the disgust as Geto caught you in his heavy weighted grasp.

The fear in Geto's eyes mingled with confusion and concern. "Y/n … I … we –!”

Gojo’s eyes slanted as you kept your face hidden. "Did you get a vision?”

Your shaky nod against Geto’s chest paired with your ashamed tone. “I was too late … I,” An anxious pause of silence stretched between you three. “Shoko told me where you were headed after healing you … then came another one … of course you two would get Riko’s body back …”

They waited for the heart shattering blow. The final nail in the coffin. You shunning them away, cutting ties immediately. Rejecting them for their heinous act. Fleeing away in horror to Jujutsu High, reporting their sorry asses and ousting them as traitors. All the above — !

“The system would have let these zealots slip through the cracks. They … their assassin … they all deserve to rot in hell for what they've done … all because of Tengen … Kuroi and Amanai have been avenged.” Your callous tone kinda threw them off a tad bit.

Geto gulped. “You … You're okay with it?”

Your head finally rose up, the glossy layer to those e/c eyes sparkled from the sliver of sunset. "I know I can't make up for letting you all down … and no amount of apologies can redeem my blunder … but I can do this at least. I'll bring her back to the school, back to Kuroi-san. They deserve to be laid to rest together.”

You reluctantly pull away from Geto’s warmth; uncaring about the red stains smearing your clothes now, to take the wrapped up body as Gojo gently passes her into your arms, melancholy heavy on your face but the strength of resolve aiding you in carrying her. “My place is with you two. Always. Now more than ever.”

Geto’s eyes pricked with burning warmth; your willingness to stay despite everything, as he kissed your temple. “We should be apologizing to you.”

“There's still more of those facilities in the city left standing. We're not finished just yet.” Gojo's voice spoke doom for their upcoming targets, a stark contrast to his own kiss to your forehead being so sweet.

“They all need to go. Every single one of them.” Geto clenched his veiny hands, determined to see this through to the end. “We will return for you. If you wouldn't mind packing our things for us by the time we show up …”

You nodded, sadly smiling. "Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Their brisk nods to you paired with smooches to your cheeks were all you were given before you watched them holding hands then warping away.

The driver stayed silent as they drove your contemplative self, keeping her cold self close to your warmth, back to school for the last time.

°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•

The sun had set.

Crimson painted the sky.

A young girl's life ended by a gunshot to the head.

Two young teens, forced to face the cruel reality of their lives through near death.

The Star Religious Group Headquarters.

House of the Children of the Star.

Their monotheistic religion spent worshiping their absolute God; Tengen.

Crossing the wrong sorcerers, nearly costing them their lives in the process at the hands of their hired assassin; the Zen'in clan failure.

Their facilities left as ruins scattered in ruble, collapsed craters layering the grounds, red painting the toppled stone and marble.

The trauma of near death, failing to keep their promises to protect their friends' lives, and losing to a physically gifted human … their pride as the strongest duo now tarnished.

Retribution.

Selfish desires made to fruition.

With Riko-chan now gone, the assimilation was now void.

Tengen-sama had evolved.

The barrier hiding the school's location was weakened and easily spotted by the Six Eyes.

You solo carried Riko to the morgue, spotting your senpai and fellow kouhai watching you from the distance, ignoring your driver hurriedly running to inform Yaga-sensei of the turn of events, but only making eye contact with Shoko as she was standing out front by the entrance, already expecting you, prepared for the worst.

You two stayed silent, understanding exactly just from seeing the acceptance in your gaze.

Seeing the covered bodies laying side by side on the tables, you prayed over the mother daughter pair, believing the guys would stop by to do the same, hopefully.

As you just finished zipping up one of three duffle bags meant for each of you in your room, you felt the ripples through the Force that is cursed energy.

The fuse was lit. The air pricked with sparks as those two set off a chain reaction.

You could visualize the facilities up in flames.

“You really are idiots.” Shoko leaned against the open doorway, smoke in her disapproving frown. “To think they'd go this far … and you're bailing with them.”

“My whole world ended when I lost my mom. My dad was a broke ass deadbeat. Then I was discovered, brought here and met you all. You became the family I needed … so I thought that was enough. But those two … they're my everything. We ride or die together. You can join us or stay here. That goes for you two as well, ya know.”

You felt Haibara and Nanami hiding behind the wall before joining Shoko in the sliding doorway. By the looks on their faces, the news spread like wildfire.

“If I go with you guys, then the higher ups will force my sister to take my place.” Haibara frowned at the guilty truth.

“Rules and regulations keep us in line, as much as they suck.” Nanami sulked.

“Those old cods view us all as disposable tools. We're not heroes. We have our own ideals, desires, lives even. And if it means I may die down the line because I choose to walk away, then I'd rather die with freedom than serve them as their obedient lapdog.” You spoke devotedly.

“I don't get it.” The blunt tone and her aversion to eye contact made you realize how left out Shoko still felt that her two crazy guy friends were willing to leave them – leave her – behind.

“It'd be nice to have you by our side Ieiri … but I know you still have Utahime to consider.” You grinned at seeing the tiny pink tinted rise to her cheeks.

“You're our classmates! To have you and our senpai be branded as curse users, I don't want to have to fight you guys!” Haibara's angry tears made your heart waver. Your own eyes burned with cursed energy.

The static film reel of seeing your guys getting savagely brutalized, Riko and Kuroi's murders, even further down the line … glimpsing Haibara scarred and pale and so damn still —

“You're still our friends. Always.”

Even with glistening chibi eyes and stubbornly pursed lips, Haibara realized you had made up your mind, reaching Nanami's hand to squeeze and be his anchor.

“It's not a crime to be a kid, but the accumulation of life's little despairs make you become an adult. Remember that.” Nanami understood that much, knowing the guys are capable of setting the world on fire when pushed too far. Like so.

Blinking back tears yourself, you nodded. “If you ever need us or change your mind, you know how to reach us.”

Throwing the duffle bags outta the window before jumping out yourself took them all by surprise. Jutting their heads out, they were relieved yet anxious spotting Geto's manta ray cursed spirit flying away, the bags and you safe across his lap and wrapped up in his arms.

His crestfallen gaze back at them was the last sight of him they received when they also spotted Gojo floating on high, gazing at them with melancholy, the living example of Nanami's parting words to you.

Knowing deep in your intuition they snuck into the morgue to pay their final respects to Riko and Kuroi before retrieving you, you kept quiet about it, trusting them wholly to catch you as well.

On that day, everything changed.

On that night, there was no turning back.

But to both yours and Geto's surprise, the boldness of Gojo as he landed right by you both on the manta ray and grasped Geto's shoulder, his suggestion for a hideaway took your breaths away.

The empty private home – one of quite many – belonging to his family's clan; this one gifted solely to him. Even as fugitives, making such a bold choice to hide there, Gojo sure is a wild child.

Wading in the waters of the giant tub to wash away the blood, flushing the pink tinted liquid down the drain, then filling up the tub once more made way for some scented oil that helped elevate the tranquil vibes.

“You're certain?” Geto scrubbed his shoulder length sudsy hair, brushing his wet locks.

“The clan has too many spots all over Japan. We crash here tonight, take what we can to sell for cash in case the geezers fry our bank accounts, then high tail someplace new. Like say, I don't know, overseas?” Gojo's lax assurance transformed him into a chibi in Geto's point of view; resting his head and arms back against the tub's rim.

Almond eyes darkened, catching the scar stretching from Gojo's lithe neck, across that toned chest, and stopping by his hip poking out of the bubbly water.

Exhaustion smeared with piqued intrigue and guilt in those blue eyes spotting the X shaped scar on Geto's sculpted chest.

Red tints colored their faces as pleased sighs left their lips at the warm water loosening up their stiff muscles, fingers weaving through each other's slick hair, bringing their faces closer, brown meeting blue as they stared longingly at each other.

The unique connection ergo magnetic attraction was evident. From clashing freshmen to still bickering but budding sophomores. And now, as fresh genocidal dropouts, they both looked like they aged a lot.

The contrasts, the similarities, their yin yang dynamic.

That and the fuzzy warmth was getting to them.

“I'm really glad you're alive.” Geto nuzzled his nose against Gojo's.

“RCT for the win.” That albino pecked the corner mouth of his raven.

Their tired giggles relieved the tension.

Brushing their bare dripping shoulders together, lips connected, initiating timid soft touches. Drool connected their heated tongues, their heated breath fanning one another's face, oh so close, wanting more.

Your hums of content grabbed their attention as you waded over to them, watching your round cheeks blowing soapy bubbles into their faces.

Running your hands down their scars made your lips tremble at the agony they went through. Entrapped in their arms, you hummed as their lithe hands caressed your supple smooth skin for they were touched by your gingerly layered kisses along their tender marked flesh.

Toru's yawning broke out, worrying you and Sugu who suggested you all start drying up. Toru was the most exhausted being actively awake using Six Eyes for 3 days straight.

But you all were, mentally and emotionally.

The electric dryer rumbled as your wet uniforms swirled within. The AC hummed in the backdrop.

Duffle bags left open as you three laid in the enormous bed, you three snuggled in close on the center.

Setting up a small simple altar in honor of Riko and Kuroi in the room gave you all some peace of mind, especially when burning some smoky incense to cleanse the place. To pray and hope that their souls were in a better place than the hell they're stuck on called Earth.

“I detest humanity. Swallowing cursed spirits made from the worst parts of their very existence for so long confirms that. Killing those cultists put my mind at ease … as horrible as that must be to you.” Suguru's weary gaze shifted to meet Satoru's now unsettlingly calm ones as they laid atop the bed beside each other, clad in just boxers, with you splayed across Satoru wearing just a large tee you all shared just cause.

“You've been feeling this way for a long time, then.” Suguru flushed as Satoru weaved his hand through those silky obsidian strands, free from the metaphorical shackles of his usual restrained bun. “I'm sorry I didn't realize it.”

Suguru's cheek nuzzled his wrist, breathing in Satoru’s cozy scent. “I never wanted you to. Or anyone for that matter. These are my own feelings to grapple with.”

Satoru's messy cat hair shook, tickling Suguru's face, closing his stinging eyes to let them rest for the moment as their foreheads touched. “Well, now, we'll carry that burden together.”

“We're branded as curse users now … we're on our own from here … and you're fine with that?” Sugu was skeptical for the most part.

“I never held hatred for anybody before … not even over Amanai's death … but I always knew my life would be spent as a living weapon for jujutsu society … a monster. And now that I've crossed the line … there's no coming back from that … but I'd do it all again …if it mended the pain you felt inside. I just … I don't want you suffering in silence anymore. I never want to leave you behind.” That soothing voice of his cracked.

Suguru was breathless seeing red in those reopened agonized eyes.

“Still … I took advantage of your heightened state and let my emotions cloud my judgment. I'm supposed to be the moral compass … yet I'm no better than those monkeys … and you nearly died because of them … I'm sorry Satoru … I'm so sorry.” Water hit Toru’s skin as the choked up weeping of his best friend smothered his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. I'm here, aren't I?” Keeping an arm wrapped around his partner, Satoru smooched the crown of Suguru's precious noggin, being tickled by those loose bangs in the face, shushing him and kissing that pierced ear of his. “And even you need to cut yourself some slack and lean on others too, ya know. And realize … you can't get rid of me that easily. You're stuck with this monster for a long time, Suguru~”

That possessive, enamored voice compelled Suguru to peak out and witness those lovesick eyes; the polar opposite to the tunnel vision of the reawakened Satoru Gojo that approached him with Riko-chan in his arms, struck right at his core.

The soft warm lamp on the side table paired with the sliver of moonlight between the curtains transformed their eyes into mini galaxies. Their own universe even to dwell in and share together.

“Hmm.” He brushed back Satoru's locks to spot the scar on his forehead and kiss that booboo. “You've never been a monster to me. Just a goofy idiot.”

Elated chuckles hit his giant lobed ears as his resident goofball pecked his blushing nose. “Your goofy idiot, smart ass.”

“Awwww~”

Flinching at that familiar voice, the guys directed their flushed gazes to you; your cheek mushed against Toru's pillow chest, fawning over them with your e/c eyes, round with sparkles and hearts set a glow in ‘em.

“I agree with all the above. Don't mind me. Just get it on with the yaoi goodness.”

“How subtle.” Suguru's eyes crinkled with mirth.

“She's got good taste, though.” Satoru's feline grin followed, rolling you both over to smush you in between them, pecking your forehead. “Period.”

You frowned. “All the apologies in the world can't make up for me letting you two down today.”

“Nonsense.” Suguru disagreed as the back of your head cushioned in between his plush pecs. “Having you here with us makes this shitty day much better.”

“We all screwed up.” Gojo griped before it became a longer deeper yawn.

Your eyes glowed a moment before dying down, alerting them and reminding you. “Time for you to sleep. Cause we got a lot of shit to think over on how to move forward. For all of us.” His exasperated sigh was met by your chaste lips as you leaned up to kiss him; him returning it to suck them up.

“Yes ma'am.” His pouting turned to a dopey grin; growing wider when Suguru kissed him goodnight too. That finally conked him out, breathing softly, when Suguru's hand wrapped around your side, turning you to lay on your back so he could see you properly; eyes clad in guilt of his own.

“Y/n, in no way should you feel responsible for what happened. That assassin would have killed you too if you had gotten involved. If we lost you as well …” His forehead met yours, letting you kiss him slowly, pulling him in to relish your personal taste. “My hope is that they're in a better place now.”

“Me too … My visions are just as much an omen as they are an aid. In this world there are no guarantees for a peaceful living … but I believe in you two … no matter what … and I know in my heart this is worth it, risks and all.”

Your honest smile made him grateful for accepting him, despite all that's happened, his tears hitting your face in response so you kissed his tears away.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His whispers met your lips as you two got caught up in another kiss when you two grunted in surprise as Satoru flipped you both over, smothering you two under his precious heat.

“‘M love you both, mmh so much.” He mewled, sleepy eyes peeking open to drowsily smile down at you two.

“Satoru, we can't breathe.” A red faced Suguru wheezed out.

Satoru languidly laughed, “My bad.”

Thankfully, you three were able to get some shuteye that night.

They're your whole world now.

Deep down inside, they know they're both monsters, for that day brought the truth to light of their dark potential.

But they're your monsters.

Your empathetic, devious, passionate monsters.

And as far as the truth goes, you too are just the same.

Three of a kind, indeed.

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