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targaryen-dynasty · 8 months

Text

TO STOKE A FLAME.

Aemond Targaryen x servant!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, oral (m receiving), power imbalance (prince and maid), mutual pining, female Reader

WORDS: 4K

NOTES: this is written for the writing challenge hosted by @targaryenvampireslayer I got the prompt "Just relax for me, I'll make it feel good" and the trope mutual pining. This was my first time writing mutual pining, and I hope it's at least slightly fitting lol.

When you’re first assigned to cleaning the chambers of the King’s second son, your heart leaps for it means you are able to escape the tortures of being a scullery maid for a position that is at least a bit higher ranked, and not as ungrateful and strainful.

Prince Aemond is an early riser, already up long before first light, and whenever he sets off to train with the sword in the morning, it’s time for you to take care of his quarters.

There’s another maid that has been offered the same opportunity, only that she is in charge of making the chambers Prince Aegon presentable, and from what you have gathered, you wouldn’t want to trade places with her.

Aemond’s chambers are always immaculate when you step into them. Everything is in its place, and the air is always filled with the cool morning breeze from the windows he’s kept open. Quite different to the quarters of his older brother.

But what they do have in common are their questionable reputations.

While Aegon is promiscuous, known to pinch and fondle at any serving girl who strays within his reach, Aemond is somewhat feared, at least among the staff. Most servant girls keep well away from the prince, and a part of you is certain it is solely because of the black eyepatch he dons after losing his eye, and the grim expression he usually holds on his face.

The other maid that tends to his chambers with you is overly cautious when dusting or putting fresh linens on his bed, something that even makes you swallow thickly. However, you can’t seem to bring yourself to share their sentiment.

How could you?

Despite only meeting the prince very briefly, you feel like every day that you sweep through his chambers, you get to know him more and more. If there’s bedlam following in Aemond’s wake when he leaves in the morning, it merely consists of several books scattered all over his desk, his armchairs and sometimes even his bed.

Most of them deal with dragon lore, history, and a variety of other subjects which you wouldn’t expect to be read by any other lord, making clear that the prince is very well educated, and always strives to learn more.

And though he keeps his chambers mostly spotless, there’s very much of his personality in them – if you read between the lines.

More oft than not, the armchairs close to the fireplace don’t stand in their usual positions, turned to the side to face each other with one of them being piled by books or scrolls. And you know from the servants that he’s often found sitting beside the fireplace either in deep thought or engrossed in a book with the flames of the fire dancing in the corner of his eye.

You’re cleaning his quarters all by yourself today for Darla, the other maid assigned, has been called to take care of something else, which means you’re granted slightly more time for Aemond’s chambers.

Kneeling in front of the fireplace, you’re knocking off as much ash and debris as possible back into it, before some of it is swept up and emptied into the pail standing next to you.

You’ve been a bit too engrossed in your task when the doors behind you burst open, catching you by surprise and startling you. There’s only one person that could and would enter the prince’s quarters at this hour of the day – the prince himself.

As you hurry to get back on your feet, already straightening and dusting off the skirt of your maid attire, you’re a bit too quick and hit your head on the ledge of the fireplace, your mob cap falling to the ground in the process.

It’s a stinging pain that shoots right through your whole body, and a throbbing that settles at the crown of your head. You bring a hand up to soothe the pain at least a bit, before you’re reminded of the reason why you got up in the first place.

Gritting your teeth, you take in a sharp breath and lower your hand, bobbing a small curtsy with a strained ‘Prince Aemond’ leaving your lips to the man that stands still in the room, clearly regarding you.

“My apologies, I–” you say, trying to make excuses and wanting to state that you’re just about to leave, but he cuts you off.

“Are you well?” he asks, though there is a lilt of amusement in his voice. “I apologize for startling you, that was not my intent.”

What’s even more unusual than him apologizing to you, a servant, for barging into his own chambers is that he's inquiring about your well-being. You’ve never before been acknowledged by any of the Targaryen’s, not that you expected it, and feeling his gaze on you kind of makes you nervous.

He raises his brow when there doesn’t come an answer from you, and you take it as your cue to speak. “I–Yes, Prince Aemond,” you stutter, bowing your head. Raising it again, your hand brushes the crown of it briefly, the spot still throbbing despite it happening a few moments ago. “I am well. It’s–It’s nothing, my prince.”

Gathering your things, you’re caught off guard for a second time since he’s entered his chambers as he slowly approaches you. He has a sympathetic smile on his lips now, and you’re not sure if it’s the embarrassment or him coming close enough to tower above you, but your body feels like it’s been put on fire.

“Are you certain you’re well?” he asks, eye flitting from your head to meet your eyes. “You’ve struck your head rather hard.”

He reaches to inspect the spot on your head, yet he hesitates and pulls back right before his fingers could brush your hair. You’re slightly disappointed, but your pounding heart is grateful. Just the mere proximity brings a blush to your cheeks and has you shifting your weight from one leg to the other, and you’re certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle him touching you.

There’s a moment of silence between you, and your hands clutch the handle of the pail tight enough for your knuckles to blanch from the force. It’s unnerving, and you’re torn between wanting to stay and wanting to leave. You’re afraid he’s not the man you’ve made up in your mind, that there’s just a hint of truth in the rumors that make their way around staff and court.

His voice cuts through the silence like a sharp blade, smooth and somewhat calming. “What’s your name?”

Taking in a deep breath, you tell him your name, but not without your eyes darting to the ground. His gaze is heavy, too heavy for you to meet it, and you feel as though there’s something else than curiosity woven within it.

“You’re quite flustered over nothing,” he hums, and the way your name slips past his lips with so much ease almost makes you melt right then and there; at least it’s enough to make you forget that he’s clearly noticed the effect he has on you.

Aemond takes note of you being nervous around him, his attention causing your blood to rush through your veins. It seems as though it’s a rather strong reaction that you have to him, something not many women feel when he comes near them. It’s endearing.

Your eyes flicker upwards to meet his good one again, and you straighten your back for another curtsy.

“M-my apologies, Prince Aemond.”

You can spot the exact moment the corners of his lips curl into a teasing smirk, your timid demeanor and your nervousness the trigger for it. And being as cocky as he is, he thinks he could have a bit of fun with you.

“It seems you’re rather out of sorts for something so trivial,” he notes, his tone teasing and playful, matching the flicker of mischief in his eye. “Perhaps I should inspect you myself to see if you have in fact sustained any injuries.”

His words make you feel as if the world around you is slowing down, making everything feel almost unbearable. You’re finding it incredibly hard to look him in the eye without blushing or your breath becoming heavy, and therefore fix them on the ground again. Noticing his large feet in comparison to your much smaller ones, your thoughts briefly stray to what else of him might be large.

But before you can answer him, or your thoughts can dive deeper, Aemond places a hand beneath your chin and gently tilts your face back up for you to meet his gaze. You’ve only seen one other in passing, and even then you’re certain he’s paid no mind to you at all, so his touch comes unexpected. But you don’t tense, and you certainly don’t pull away. However, you’re unsure if you should give in and lean into it.

His finger brushes along your jawline, trailing down the curve of your neck, and coming close to your collarbone, a heat following in its wake. He stops for a second, as if he’s debating whether or not he should move his touch any further.

Aemond’s surprised by your reaction, yet he also realizes that you’re much more interesting than any of the other maids for they were all alike – all not daring to look at him or stay in his presence for longer than a few minutes. But you’re different.

He could already tell by the way you so neatly clean and store his books when he’s spent his night reading by the fire, or how you seem to pay extra attention when you’re putting fresh linens on his bed, fluffing his pillows without the hurry the previous chambermaid has had.

And seeing his touch having such a significant impact on you, the little maid he’s spent so much time dreaming and fantasizing about, feeds a desire he didn’t have before – the desire to bed you, to claim you.

“Get on your knees,” he orders, hooded eye looking down at you.

Swallowing thickly, your mind struggles to comprehend what he asked of you. “I-what?” you stammer in disbelief.

“You heard me. On your knees.” He’s a bit firmer now, and uses the slight grip he has on your shoulder to give you a little help sinking down. You follow his lead, the pail rattling onto the ground.

Your hands are folded in your lap when you gaze up at him, eyes wide and curiously studying his next move. With your thumbs brushing over each other, you try to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, grazing your skin to distract yourself from the throbbing that blossoms between your legs.

Aemond looms over you, reaching out to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s something in the position you’re in, and the combination of his gentle touch and stern orders that gets to your head, and lures you in to lean into his hand. It also makes you a bit bolder as you place a hand on his thigh in return.

It piques his interest, obvious in the way he raises a brow, and his eye flickers to where your hand rests on his body. But he doesn’t shy away from the touch.

“Do you know what I require of you?” Aemond asks, sterner than before.

You bow your head, batting your eyelashes at him in an innocent manner. “I do, my Prince.”

That’s all he has to hear before he swiftly unlaces the front of his breeches and tugs them down barely enough to free his cock and stones, the sight alone making your breath hitch in your throat. He’s well endowed, and far bigger than the cock of the one man you’ve slept with before.

You release a shaky breath, replaying all the knowledge you’ve gathered about pleasuring a man with your mouth, and catch a whiff of musk mixed with the salty smell of sweat – he’s definitely trained with the sword this morning.

Squeezing his thigh, your eyes flicker between his and his hard cock as the slight nod of his head encourages you to curl your hand around it, your thumb and index finger barely touching.

He throbs in your palm already, and the tip is covered in a red that makes it clear he’s desperate to be buried inside of something; probably not caring whether it’s your mouth or your cunt.

Even though you cower beneath his dominating presence, a jolt of boldness strikes you that makes you lean in and lick a flat stripe from the base of his cock up to the bulbous tip. A salty taste lingers on your tongue as you drag it over the slit, making you hum appreciatively, seemingly pleased to witness the effect your touch and presence have on the prince’s body.

Aemond buries his hands in your hair, loosening the bun you’ve put it into this morning, and grabs a fistful of it. It’s a sharp tug of him that catches your attention, and your wide eyes flit up to meet his demanding gaze.

Spurred on by the heavy breaths moving his chest, you swallow, and eventually part your lips to slowly ease him inside, and even though he holds you by your hair, he’s generous enough to not force himself inside, allowing you to move as you please.

“Fuck,” he growls as he gets accustomed to the warmth and tightness of your mouth, head tipping back to release a bawdy groan.

You hollow your cheeks around him, and, after a few moments that allow you to adjust to him, start to bob your head back and forth his thick length, flattening your tongue against him for added stimulation.

Growing bolder and bolder with each passing moment, you squeeze your thighs together every time the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, robbing you of the ability to breathe until you pull off of him again.

With his hand in your hair, Aemond senses you getting more comfortable, and starts to guide your head along his member, encouraging you to set up a quicker pace to which you eagerly comply.

“That’s it,” he groans, not able to tear his eye from the sight of your lips wrapped around him as his cock repeatedly disappears inside of your mouth.

Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your lips down your chin with how fast you sink down on him, and the lewd sounds of his soaked cock sliding back and forth past your lips fill the prince’s chambers, hardly drowned out by his grunts and groans.

At this point, you’re drenched in your arousal, the linen of your small clothes clinging to your swollen mound in a way that’s almost uncomfortable.

While you bring one hand up to clasp around the rest of his cock that doesn’t fit into your mouth, the other grips his thigh a bit harder than before, holding onto him for dear life as he uses your face however he pleases.

You feel the muscles of his thigh tense and contract under your palm and his cock throb inside of you, indicating that he’s close to reaching his peak. It’s the first time you pleasure a man with your mouth, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. But before you can brace yourself for whatever might come, Aemond pulls you off of him by your hair, prompting you to topple back to sit on your haunches.

You lock your teary eyes with his good one, lips smacking as his musky and salty taste spreads on them and your tongue. “My Prince, I–”

“Remove your clothes,” he interrupts you, his voice less friendly and more a command.

There are so many thoughts rattling your mind right now, and you don’t know where to start and what to process.

“I wasn’t asking,” he growls, his impatience showing as you don’t comply quickly enough.

With a bow of your head, you rise to your feet and peel the beige-ish apron off of your body, the red dress and smallclothes following suit. You waste no thought on your modesty, on the fact that you’re standing bare in front of a prince of the mighty House Targaryen. The longing for him that has built with all the days you’ve cleaned his pristine chambers, and the undeniable aching between your legs don’t allow you to.

You’re undressed when he stalks around you, regarding you like he’s the hunter and you’re his prey. You see that your obedience arouses him, his hard cock throbbing and bouncing with each step he takes around you. It’s thrilling in the best way possible, and the feeling of being desired by him feeds your confidence.

“Are you just watching, or will the prince undress as well?”

His eye narrows and flickers up to yours at your question, and there’s the hint of a smile adorning his features. “Would you like that?”

Biting your bottom lip, a blush creeps on your cheeks. “Very much.”

As you size him up, you notice a flush blossoming from his cheeks down his neck, the same warmth you feel obviously spreading through his body, too.

“Then I suppose that I’ll oblige.”

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he removes his clothing, slipping out of layer after layer, starting with the black leather robe, and ending with his smallclothes.

You all but drag your eyes over his lithe frame, taking in every muscle that ripples beneath his pale skin, and every silver, coarse hair that trails from below his navel to his cock and the sac of his stones.

It seems like he basks in your attention, in the way you stare at him in awe as you lick your lips, and he’s certainly not afraid of showing himself in his full glory.

“Get on the bed,” he says, smugly. “On your hands and knees.”

This time you know better than to take a few seconds to comply, bowing your head before climbing his bed right away, getting in the desired position. You suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, completely at his mercy in a way you’ve never experienced before. However, your curiosity and desire overshadow any reservations you could have.

“Pray tell, have you lain with a man before?” You feel the mattress dip beneath his weight as he slowly settles behind you. His hands find your hips, and you shiver with anticipation.

Looking at him from over your shoulder, you nod. “Just once, my prince.”

A soft hm rubles in his chest at your words, and he raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. You certainly seem to take him very seriously, which isn’t unusual given his station, but it’s your honesty that’s a whole different matter to him. “You enjoyed it, I presume?”

Still meeting his gaze, you swallow thickly. You’re hesitant to answer, not sure why it’s of importance, but he doesn’t seem willing to let you off the hook just yet. “Yes, I did.”

Aemond gives your flesh an appreciative squeeze at that, and shuffles close enough for you to feel his cock press against your arse. “Would you be willing to again?”

You press your lips into a thin line to stop them from pulling into a grin, but fail miserably. The prince behind you takes that as his cue to continue, and you’re most grateful when you feel him drag the tip of his cock through your soaked folds.

“Just relax for me,” he purrs, his eye fixed on the motions of his hand, watching as his cock disappears inside of you. “I’ll make it feel good.”

The moment you stretch around him, you take in a sharp breath, his cock breaching your cunt at a teasingly slow pace that makes sure you feel every vein and ridge of him drag along your walls.

With his hands coming back to rest on your hips, he pulls you onto his cock until his hips press against your arse, taking his time to adjust to your tightness. The ‘shit’ he mumbles doesn’t go unnoticed by you, a renewed wave of your arousal drenching his cock and the sac of his stones.

If his impatience hasn’t been running thin before, it certainly does now, because the first gentle, sensual thrusts are quickly replaced by merciless pounding. You don’t mind it for you’ve been thoroughly soaked, and enjoy the feeling of his cock repeatedly brushing the spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

Aemond brings a hand between your shoulders, applying a good bit of pressure to press your chest down and your face into the pillows. Your head turns to the side, but you’re not able to look at him.

His breathing is heavy, strained pants leaving him, and his hand trails back to grope your arse.

“Fuck, what an obedient girl they’ve ordered to take care of my chambers–of me,” Aemond rambles behind you, bowing forwards to put a bit more of his weight on your small frame. “Taking me so well. Giving me exactly what I want.”

The praise goes straight to your head, and you want to answer, but the words die on your tongue, replaced by quiet whimpers and whines that grow wanton as he splits you open with a hard, percussive thrust. Then another follows, and another, keening at the sweet sounds you make only for him.

Not able to focus on anything else than the pressure building inside of your belly, you push your hips back against him, and he counters by pulling you back with each of his thrusts, meeting him halfways which results in the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin to echo off the walls.

He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, that you’re certain you would keep going even if someone is to barge into his chambers, interrupting you.

As his hand snakes beneath your body to make contact with your pearl, you’re overcome with the true knowledge of how experienced Aemond actually is. He strums your body like the most talented lutenist, bringing you closer towards your sweet release.

“Gods, I–” you whine into the pillows.

The taut string inside of you snaps, and the pleasure within you soares through your veins. White, hot pleasure clouds your vision, his arm around you the only thing keeping you up right now.

“That’s it,” Aemond grunts, and the snaps of his hips increase to the point your whines become hiccuped, catching in your throat with little to no time to fill your lungs with air.

And then, his hips stutter, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. He twitches and trembles so much that he’s forced to still his hips, and you take it as your cue to roll yours against him, helping him through his peak.

The throbbing only stills once you’ve milked him for every drop of his seed and the last bit of the euphoric high subsides, making him come back to his senses.

But there’s not much basking in the proximity for you, not when Aemond pulls out almost immediately after, climbing off the bed to get dressed again. The red dress is crudely thrown into your direction, silently making clear that it’s time for you to leave.

It seems as though he’s embarrassed, because he has a hard time meeting your eyes, and doesn’t look at you when you get back in your clothes. But perhaps you’re just not catching the subtle glances he throws into your direction as your maid attire comes back to hug your curves.

Tying the apron and fixing your hair, you reach for the pail. It’s then, with you bowing forwards, that you finally feel his seed trickling out of your cunt, and the sensation alone makes you shiver in an uncomfortable way. You certainly have to look for a quiet spot in the keep where you can clean yourself, since you’re not done working.

You head for the door, but before you open it, his smooth voice catches your attention again.

“You may leave now, but I expect you to come back and finish your task at the Hour of the Ghosts, for you have not cleaned the fireplace thoroughly enough.”

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leafostuff · 4 months

Text

One Heck of a Joyride[Ft. WooAh's Nana]

Word Count: 14-15K~ words

Collab with @octoberautumnbox

My Author's Notes: we are so excited to finally release this fic for yall, me and box have been working on this fic since the end of FEBRUARY (almost 3 months) and we have been working on it so hard to make it the best it can be so I really hope you will enjoy this fic

@octoberautumnbox's author notes: there u have it! took the better part of three months, but it was really fun to work on :DDDD Thanks to leafo for making sure i didn't slack LMAO

No tags since it is too long but this is fluff and smut

Thanks: of course @octoberautumnbox for working with me on this amazing collab. @4m1rz for being my lovely beta reader and @libraryoferos for being my motivation to not be lazy on this fic

And so without any further preface, let's get started, shall we?

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“And I expect you all to get along this year. Leave the past behind you as you all face a new future together.” Sporadic applause rises slowly from the crowd and dies down twice as quickly. The dean sighs away from the mic and drifts offstage, leaving everyone disinterested in the rest of the program. It all goes by in a blur, and finally ends right as the air conditioners start to fail against the heat of a summer not-yet-ended.

Your attention is drawn away from the droning on and on from the stage and towards the many characters that populate the theater with you. You catch glimpses of people talking with their friends, a few crazy hair colours, and the occasional sleeping student who’s no doubt already saving up hours for the all-nighters to come.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone in the front row with both people sitting next to her conspicuously leaning away. They seem to want to get up and leave her there by herself, but the way she gives no reaction despite the jeering tone coming from her seatmates leads you to think that she’s asleep herself.

~~~

“So yeah, That's the tour, bucko. Check the map if you’re ever lost.” Your student tour guide points at the multi-colored document on your phone. Vaguely you recall the various little symbols: which classrooms you can sleep in, which bathrooms are haunted, which shortcuts are best, all of the must-know basics of college life.

As you continue scanning around the campus, the girl from the assembly catches your attention again. She has her hood up this time, but you can tell it’s her; her quick pacing and how she is not looking around at anyone making you believe that she’s trying her best to hide.

“What about that one? Do we not talk about her?” you ask, pointing at the oblivious figure walking past, drawing eyes and whispers much like your own.

Your guide scoffs at the absurd idea. “That’s Nayeon. And no, we don’t. She fucked up last year, big time. Got a bunch of us in trouble. So stay away from her, she has those goody-two-shoes germs.” he says, walking away as while signaling you to follow him.

You wonder what she could have done to gain such a reputation. She was adorable earlier with her hood off, but the way people talk about her makes you want to steer clear against your own will.

~-~-~-~

Curiosity ends up killing the cat, and you manage to gather bits and pieces of the incident from last year from gossip, class lore, and even the way some professors acted:

“She’s the luckiest bitch in the world with not a single shred of common sense. Seriously, who goes and rats on a hundred other students like that?”

“The test incident shows she only looks out for herself, even if it means bringing down the entire class.”

“There’s really no excuse for it. You have the answer key in your hand, of course you take a picture! You don’t just leave it where it’ll incriminate some other innocent loser and say you’re only trying to do the right fucking thing.”

The sheer number of factoids you gather from the wild bunch of sources only slightly make sense. Unfortunately, trying to piece them together only took up more space and brainpower which you should have used to study for your midterms coming up. Keep to yourself and you can just barely pass and move on; there is no time for college drama.

After the exam, you approach the professor to ask about possibly bumping up your grade. You decided to maybe half-ass an extra credit assignment and get the lowest passing score, but you resolve to just see where it goes. While lost in thought, you nearly bump into the small girl in front of you. already talking to the teacher, and by the way they’re whispering, it seems like it’s something serious.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here anymore, Miss Kwon,” the professor admits as he takes off his glasses and rubs his nose bridge. “None of this was necessary. I thought we wanted to leave all this behind us.”

Nayeon looks down to her toes in defeat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was just thinking, maybe I’d get sent out of class this time.” Her voice cracks, giving away her vulnerable state: she’s near tears but trying to fight everything back to look tough. Sadly for her, you think, none of it is working.

“Look, just try to lay low. It’s your last year before all of this starts to not matter anymore.” Your professor finally puts his glasses back on and looks Nayeon straight in the eye. “Trust me, you’re better off keeping your head down. You’ll be fine.”

She walks despondently off to the right and out the door. Your feet choose to follow her, but a sudden jolt restores your common sense. “And you, Mister New Guy, what seems to be the problem? Beside your dismal score, that is.”

You have a slight feeling you are not getting a higher score.

~-~-~

After talking it out fruitlessly with the professor, he releases you from his classroom and you make your way out. The conversation with him didn’t take long, and so you arrive to a few jeers and muffled laughter once you step outside.

“Serves her right. Trying all this bullshit isn’t gonna change anything.”

“Seriously, cheating on a test she obviously studied for? How dense could she be?”

“I bet she just wants to show us up. She’ll study and then cheat, then she gets perfect marks on the test and she’ll show us she’s untouchable again.”

You find it hard to believe that Nayeon would resort to something as convoluted and pointless as that, but then again, you really don’t know her to make a judgment. Whatever she was thinking, you agree that it was idiotic to pull that sort of thing, even if you didn’t see any of it.

The weather on campus is the right mix of cloudy and sunny, with rays of light shining respectfully on the grass and pavement of your college courtyard. Something tells you that people-watching by the gym feels like the perfect lunchtime activity for a day like this, so you find your way to the properly noisy setting and look for a spot out of the way.

You settle on a spot by the side of the gym with the perfect amount of shade and wind, but you’re instead drawn further back to the rear by strange and irregular noises. Turning the last corner, you’re met with a surprising figure.

It was Nayeon, sitting with her back against one of the walls, her entire body curled up like a ball. You slowly inch closer and closer to her, and you realize the strange noises that you heard before were instead sniffles and cries coming from the lonely girl. Finally as you get close enough, Nayeon feels your presence and raises her head.

Her eyes were full of tears, who knows for how long she had been crying, and you could feel the sadness coming from her eyes; they were trying to tell you something, however, it's hard to figure out what. Her expression of sadness didn't stay for long though as soon enough her expression turns angry when you get closer to her, squatting down to look at the girl from a closer angle.

“Please, go away. Leave me alone.” The small girl pushes you away, but with her hand preoccupied wiping away her tears, she can’t do much to get rid of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have the nerve to do what you did last year and still show your face?” The anger in your voice catches you off guard. Since when did you take it personally when it came to her?

“Oh fuck off, new guy,” she taunts. “So I’m fucking hiding here, what more do you want?” She tries to act tough again, but it’s painfully apparent to both of you that it isn’t working. At this point, you really do just want to leave her alone. And just like every other time, nothing’s stopping you. So why are you staying?

You breathe a sigh of defeat at the situation you find yourself in. “Look, I don’t have any sort of beef with you personally, but come on. This is pathetic. You’re only embarrassing yourself by doing all this bullshit that isn’t like you at all.”

“And what if it’s not like me?!” Her shout sends a few birds hiding in nearby bushes to take off. This sort of language takes you aback from her; Little Miss Perfect Kwon Nayeon, top honour student, teacher’s favourite pet, hating herself?

“I… I don’t like being me, and I don’t like what I am.” She wipes her tears again and tries (and fails) to look you in the eyes once more. “So if you’re another member of the ‘I hate Nayeon’ club, well… Better show the club president some respect.”

She sits back down with her back against the wall. Nayeon's eyes are wet for the last time before she wipes them off and faces her lack of tears.

Normally in situations like those you would just walk away and ignore people like those for the rest of the school year, but for some reason with Nayeon in front of you, showing herself being weak, fragile, and sad, something about her makes it so you can't leave the situation alone. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you have to know why.

“No,” you turn back to her as a determined expression is painted on your face.

“What?”

“I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me.” You stand your ground, arms crossed, and Nayeon can't seem to be any more pissed than before. “What is going on? What do you mean you don't like yourself?” you ask.

For a while, no one dares to speak another word, and you wonder if what you have here is an argument. For a good few seconds, she stares at you intently as silence hangs heavy in the air.

“You think,” she says defeatedly between sniffles, “that I'm Little Miss Perfect, right? Like everyone calls me ‘the straight-A girl?’ Well I’m not, and I’m tired of everyone saying so.” She fishes out a very used handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her eyes of tears, only for them to be replaced by more.

“It can’t be that bad, Nayeon. People look up to you, I’m sure.” You finally notice your alarms are blaring and you’re put on high alert. What you just said was the exact wrong thing to say, and you’re at critical risk of involving yourself in her messy situation more than you should.

She side-eyes you, calculating if you’re being sincere or not. She stuffs her handkerchief back into her pocket carelessly as if knowing that she’ll only pull it back out again soon. She looks down at her hands, deep in thought, looking like she’s trying to grapple with something she might regret.

Once she’s done, she fumbles around in her backpack. She fishes out a tiny black notebook she seems to keep so well hidden, on the cover of the notebook the words ‘Nana’s Bucket List’ are scrawled in big, bold, immature-looking letters.

“Throughout all of my life, I always wanted to be the top student, the best of the best like no one ever was, and I succeeded, you know…” she scoffs. “Top marks in Elementary, Middle school, and Valedictorian in high school.” She sighs and tries to fight back more tears, though you notice she’s a bit more successful this time, with a bit of hope and yearning in her eyes.

"But on the other side… The other side seems so great. I mean, I see all these movies and books about college life," she says in between residual sobs and hiccups. She opens the notebook, showing you a not-so-long list, and even though it's hard to see the text from the small size of the writing, you can make out a little bit of what’s written on the paper.

Cheat on a test

Get drunk

Party all night

Dye my hair

Sing in an Open stage show

Sneak into a Public pool

Shoplifting

You know...

Most of what you read makes zero sense, and you’re half-convinced this girl is just crazy. You stare at the scribbled letters, hoping to draw more meaning from them, but Nayeon shuts the little notebook in your face and starts putting it back away.

"I want to do them all. Drinking, breaking glass bottles, partying, all that stuff," she explains dreamily. She zips up her bag and pats it down, making sure it’s secure beside her, and turns her attention back to you, “I want to live like a normal girl, you know what I mean?” she asks, you are not sure if its because of the tears, but her eyes seem to glitter.

"That's very cliche, Nana," you jab at her, making fun of the nickname she gave herself.

"That's all I know, though. Please." She takes your hand in between hers and looks up at you, teary-eyed and seemingly begging for her life.”This wouldn’t kill you, all I’m asking for is some help crossing stuff off of the list.”

You hate how well it works on you: her big, round eyes, her adorable little pout, her cute pleading voice. It goes against everything you know, and even now you’re sure you don’t want to get involved in whatever this would turn out to be. And yet, despite even the most deeply ingrained lessons you’ve learned for yourself, all it takes is a brief moment for it to come crashing down.

With a disbelieving sigh and a sense of regret creeping in, you ask: “What’s in it for me?”

~-~-~-~

You take a bite of your burger and breathe out. Cheap bun, dubious patty, artificial cheese, it all takes you back to a past life. You're left to momentarily wonder how you ended up where you are now, and slowly it comes back to you. You messed up.

"So, about the list." Nayeon sets down her cup, ice cubes clinking against each other as they swirl around her soda. "I already did one. So that’s one less thing for us to do”.

"I can do that much math, Nayeon. What do you take me for?" You chomp down on a few fries grumpily.

"I didn't mean it like that. All I'm saying is there are just a few more months left until graduation, so we'll need to be quick. We can’t be lazy about this." She pulls out the little black notebook and flips to an unfamiliar page. The words "cheat on a test" has doodles of a devil's horns and wings and tail around it, with lots of eyes and ears decorating the rest of the ruled paper. Above it, the poster you recognize from the movie "Bad Genius" is copied, albeit crudely, in a thought bubble.

"I did this one last year, don't ask. Anyway, this next one should be easy enough." She flips to the next page, showing a couple pictures of beer cups and wine bottles, surrounding the words “Get Drunk.”

“Wait, is this the ‘incident’ people hate you for? What even happened there?” You eat more of your fries, trying to hide your curiosity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and she nips the conversation in the bud.

“That’s not anything you need to know. What matters is now and the future. Now are you with me or not?” She snaps the notebook closed and yanks it away from your sight, back into the pocket she keeps it in.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly your deal is,” you say disappointedly. You pick up your own drink and take a sip, and the cool soda washes over your tongue and throat on the way down. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be with everything that’s going on.”

For a moment, you catch Nayeon’s gaze on you, dumbfounded. You could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tries to process your logic, but it takes a while. As she thinks, though, you take a particular interest in how she handles it: her mouth is hanging slightly ajar and her eyes are only half-focused on wherever they’re pointed. You notice how delicately her bangs fall on her forehead, how her eyebrows furrow and crease, how she tries finding the right words yet can’t find the message she wants to send. Odd things to notice, surely, and yet here you are. You messed up.

It starts coming back to you. The jeers from your classmates as you walk down the hall grow louder in your ears, and you fight against your hands trying to cover them with the knowledge that none of it is real anymore. The tears you fight back all the time surface for another rematch, but with your current state, you may be at a disadvantage.

Fortunately, she shocks you back into reality. “Hey, are you listening? I’m feeding you, so the least you could do is pay attention.” She bites a small chunk of her burger and chews, and you notice how her cheeks puff slightly and the corner of her mouth is decorated with a dollop of mustard.

Cute.

1 + 2. Get drunk + Party All Night

“God, this is stupid,” you think to yourself, exiting the convenience store. With a plastic bag in your right hand and your phone in your left hand, checking the time and the address Nayeon sent you earlier today. Finding it was easier than you expected, and you tried not to let the walk to her dorm set any expectations for you.

You bring your knuckles to the wooden door and make three quick raps. It swings open very quickly and you’re dragged into the cozy space without even the slightest chance to take off your shoes.

“You took forever! Did you bring the stuff?” She looks all over you and pats you down, looking for what you brought her.

“Get off, will you? I put them all in my bag like a normal person.” You swing your backpack off your shoulder and carefully place it onto a nearby table. Nayeon takes a seat and waits excitedly for what you brought for the two of you. From your bag, you produce three bottles of soju, three five-packs of Yakult, six cans of beer, and four bags of chips. She eyes each item with absolute interest as they leave your backpack, and she hardly contains herself once you finish and zip up your bag once more.

“Okay, so how does this work?” Her eyes sparkle with wonder, and while waiting for your instructions, it was clear that as much as she was excited, she was also inexperienced.

“First off, get us some shot glasses and a pitcher. Oh, and a can opener.” Nayeon bolts off to the cooking area, and you can hear drawers opening and shutting loudly. You start getting concerned when you hear plates start to clatter against each other, but thankfully it dies down quickly and she returns with two small glasses, a decently sized pitcher, and a can opener.

“Shit. I meant bottle. Bottle opener.” Without even a hint of annoyance, she rushes back off into the kitchen and, after a few more rummaging sounds, she returns with the correct item. She really must not know what she’s doing.

“Come on, show me!” She shoves the bottle opener into your hand, and you’re left with no choice.

“Don’t you have a roommate we have to worry about?” You pop the cap off one of the soju bottles and then tear the aluminum top off two bottles of Yakult. “She’s out with her own friends. Hurry!” Despite her starting to get on your nerves, you pour all three into the pitcher and swirl them around together. Once you’re done, you pour the mixture into each of the glasses until they’re full.

“Bottoms up, Nayeon.”

“Bottoms up!”

The both of you down your drinks: yours slowly crawls down your throat, but hers disappears straight into her stomach. She reels at the burning lines left by the alcohol all over her esophagus and takes a bit of time to recover.

“Whoa, that was,” she says, and a burp erupts from her mouth, “intense.” She sways a little bit to the left before righting herself, and then overcompensates to lean to the left again.

“Easy there, champ. We’ve got two more bottles to go through.” You pour another shot for each of you, hers first and then yours, and raise your glass once more.

“Open the chips now,” you tell her. “This’ll be less dreadful with food.”

Both of you down your shots at the same time, and Nayeon reels at the sensation once more.

“Does that get easier?” Her speech is slowly starting to slur, the poor thing. “I’m kinda feeling a little something right now, too…”

“Yes, but only if you keep going at it, idiot. Don’t down everything so quickly.” Grab one of the bags of chips yourself, open and present it to Nayeon on the center of the table.

“Eat. You’ll hate this less.” You take a handful of chips and bring all of them into your mouth. Once you do, you raise your eyebrow at her to tell her to do the same.

“Isn’t… *hic* being hungry the thing for… faster drunk?”

“Apparently so, Nayeon. I don’t even know what I expected from you.” You take another shot, alone this time. She tries to pour her own shot, but fails miserably at getting the liquid anywhere near the inside of her shot glass. It’s adorable how she tries, though.

You pour her another shot despite a small voice telling you maybe she isn’t cut out for this much in such a short time. You shove the voice aside in favor of Nayeon’s own words: “We pregame, drink a little, and then we go. Party starts at 7:30, so we leave here by 7 o’clock.” Her shot glass fills with the drink, and you place it in front of her, making sure at least to keep an eye out for what might happen next.

She successfully picks up the glass and, sans the spills she made on the glass's way from the table to her mouth, drinks everything she could. She slams the glass onto the table in no light movement and you have a slight inkling of regret at letting her do that to herself.

“You… We have to… Fuck.” Nayeon’s head droops and she catches her face with her hands. She may have underestimated how strong soju is, or maybe what being drunk actually does to a person. A groan emanates from behind her palms, and you notice she’s having trouble holding herself up.

“Aren’t we going out after this? You might wanna slow down, idiot.” You pour yourself another shot and drink it leisurely. Nayeon tries leaning back onto the chair, and she finally pries her hands away from her eyes. She does a few quick blinks, and she tries to focus her sight on you. Her head sways a little bit, and it dawns on you that you may have overestimated her.

“I’m okay… just… we have to go.” She tries to stand up, but she wobbles dangerously and you have to catch her. Dive under her and take on her weight, thankfully not too heavy, and keep her from hitting the floor. She mumbles a bit about something you can only kind of understand, but it's enough to guide your next decision.

“Forget it,” you grunt as you plop her back into her chair, “we're not going anywhere.” An exasperated sigh leaves your lungs, and you head off to the kitchen to return with a large bottle of cold water.

“No… we have to go. We'll be late.” Nayeon tries to get up again, but there's no strength left in her body. She sits motionlessly, probably thinking that she's already stood up, and it gives way to a confused look on her face as to why she's still in the same place.

You fill a proper-sized glass with water and hand it to her, which she drinks obediently. You fill her palm with potato chips which she also eats without objection. The way her jaw moves, clumsy and slow, signals a threat that she might just fall over any minute.

You move your chair to her side and sit there, allowing Nayeon to lean her head on you. Her hair covers her reddening face, and her hiccups arrive in growing force.

“If you're still in there, Nayeon,” you say quietly, “we're not going out. I can't look after you this closely at a party.” All she does to respond is nod. Her hiccups are punctuated intermittently with sniffles, which you take as a sign that she knows she has no power left to object.

Still, you feel bad for her as her plans fall through. Despite the responsible thing to do, put her to bed and leave, you kick yourself mentally before deciding to stay anyway.

“Movies and snacks?”

~-~-~-~

Before you know it, the night goes by just as quick. You go through the list of movies she’d always wanted to watch: The Truman Show, The Great Gatsby, Mean Girls, and even then there’s still a few left on her list. You could tell she was watching properly halfway through the first, and that was the telltale sign that she’d sobered up.

You drink a bit more with her in between movies, and she would frequently pause to get up and put on a song to dance to. “It keeps me awake,” she said, “I can’t fall asleep before the good part happens.” The songs she put on are generic pop and the kinds you skip whenever they come up, but you let it pass for tonight.

At some point, she pulls out an old Wii and challenges you to Mario Kart. “I am undefeated in this game. I’m not even that good, everyone else that challenged me just sucked.” You take her up on her offer, and the match begins. You try and almost get ahead of her in a few of the turns, but she would always take back her lead at the slightest opportunity of you hitting a wall or missing an item. And the way she glows with pride every single time she crosses the finish line before you do, the sudden brightness that fills her face when she wins race after race, the confidence it gives her that she isn’t actually the worst person in the world, all of it is a sight to behold. People may see Kwon Nayeon as an arrogant goody-two-shoes traitor, but the way you see her now is different: just someone with a past to outgrow.

Right as the last movie’s credits start rolling, mischievous thin rays of dawn sunlight slip past the tiny gaps in the curtains. Both you and Nayeon have little energy left for anything else, and you maybe think it’s time to call it a night and go home.

“Let me walk you out,” she says while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for a little bit longer. You both get up and walk to the door, and as it opens your faces are flooded with a world right before it wakes. Dewdrops sit respectfully on leaves and blades of grass, birds are only starting to stretch their wings, and the crisp morning air fills your lungs with a calm grace.

You turn back to Nayeon, who you find is still admiring the dawn, and grasp her elbow. “Sit with me.”

You both squat down and take your seats again on her doorstep. Clouds roll in and dot the sky, wandering on the blank canvas of today, eagerly waiting for sunlight to block out. The sun peeks over the horizon and the first proper rays start to arrive, spreading warmth where they land. Nayeon meets your eyes one last time, and the pair of you find a sleepy and still a bit drunk person when you look at each other.

“Well,” you say as if it was a farewell, “good night, Nayeon. And good morning.”

“Good night,” she giggles back, “and good morning to you too.”

3. Sneak into a Public Pool

“Are you sure about this?” Nana’s tone is subdued by fear. Her voice shakes and struggles to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time you get the feeling that if you didn’t need to be quiet, she’d be yelling right now and trying to get the both of you to leave.

“Can you please shut up? I’m trying to focus!” You find the first of the pins and push it out of the way. For a moment, you lament how restricted you are: this could have been such a simple lock to break, replace even, but the girl dragging you around was deathly insistent on leaving as little damage and evidence as possible.

“You shut up! I'm whispering here!” Anger rises in her voice, and you almost feel anger in yours too. You're able to stop it though, and you remind yourself that if ever a guard was on watch that actually cared about this place, they'd be easily outrun.

The lock presents more of a challenge than you thought; despite the agonizingly simple solution of snapping its shackle, its inner mechanisms are harder to crack for whatever reason. Taking it pin by pin is supposed to be an easy task, but the warm and humid air and the incessant nagging seem to debilitate you. It’s such a nice night out for a swim, why make this any harder than it needs to be?

After what seemed like eternity you finally manage to pick the lock, sighing in relief as the both of you head forward quietly, but cautiously looking side to side just in case. The metal-grate door swings open slowly, avoiding any creaking sounds it may make otherwise, and the both of you enter the pool area.

“I gotta say Nayeon, this went better than I thought it would,” you say, both of you looking at the rectangular box of water which unlike during the day, was completely still, no waves, no splashes, just the water. It glistened and reflected all manner of light: the pool lights above and below the water, the yellow street lamps far off on the sidewalk, and the moon overhead, singing tones of wonder and mystery to those touched by its borrowed glow.

Off to the side, you find Nayeon fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head whips round incessantly as she tries to keep a lookout of the surroundings rather poorly. Sigh a deep one, and finally go over and take your seat next to her.

“Thanks… gimme a sec.” She finally grabs the hem decisively. The fabric crumples a bit under her grip and folds as it's pulled up.

You can’t help but watch as the shirt starts to leave her body, revealing a slim and toned tummy underneath. Your breath hitches as it crawls higher, reaching her face and obscuring her sight, and she inadvertently shows off a dark purple sports bra that’s… a size too small. Your gaze lingers on her cleavage and the flesh of her boobs lightly spilling out of the garment.

Nana turns around and you’re treated with the view of a beautiful back and shoulders to die for. The way her body twists and turns in the slightest ways to negotiate the shirt off of her form is the most sensual dance you’ve ever seen.

And you realize you’re staring. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t seem to notice, and she continues on to fold the shirt properly before setting it next to her sports bag. You opt not to risk staring any longer, and you decide to get rid of your own shirt. You strip quickly, and your shirt flies off approximately near Nayeon’s things in a messy pile by itself.

Sit on the edge of the pool, dip your feet into the water. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be this warm, you think, but whatever the case may be, it feels like a tea that’s just about to go cold. This, coupled with the humid air and quiet atmosphere, makes for a perfect night to spend on whatever this is with her.

She joins you and takes her seat at the edge of the pool, and in every other situation, you’d ask her to back off a bit. Instead, as she lays her head on your shoulder and takes your hand in between hers, you lose your steel in the most important of times.

“I’m scared.” Her eyes never leave the water, taking in the light dancing on its surface. Her face is fraught with worry, and while you know it’s for no good reason, you nevertheless try to reassure her.

“Yeah, someone might jump out of the bushes and arrest us for swimming in a swimming pool,” you say mockingly. “They’re gonna take us to court on the charges of ‘using something the way it was meant to be used’ and we’re gonna get life sentences. When we’re all old and wrinkly they’re gonna sit us in the electric chair.”

“Okay, I get your point. But still, though, I’m scared.” She grips your hand tighter, and for some reason you can’t resist her. Place your other hand over hers and try to calm her down. Nana takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, and finally looks at you with a reserved grin.

“Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.”

You feel her hand on your back, and warmth spreads from her palm. Her smile grows just a bit wider and her eyes follow suit. Her teeth show themselves from between her lips, and you’re almost tempted to dive right in.

Lucky for you, she helps. The hand on her back suddenly applies more pressure, pushing you to the pool and causing a splash going all directions. Collect your thoughts and raise your head above the water to see Nana, face full of laughter, right before she dives in the water with you.

It takes a second, but her head resurfaces and you find yourself relieved. She catches her breath once more, and before you know it, you're met with a faceful of chlorinated water. “What are you staring at?” She says between hearty laughs.

Wipe the water from your face, find the humor. Laugh with her, and face her properly.

Another shade of Kwon Nayeon. Granted, it's one with no makeup and way less clothes than usual, but none of that takes away from her natural, elegant beauty. It's captivating, the way her figure glides around the water, the way the cool night air wisps around the pair of you, the way the moon throws its rays around the world, your world, so haphazardly.

Another faceful of water, and you snap out of your daze. “Creepy ass,” she snorts happily. She splashes you again, and this time you fight back.

“Race you around the pool.” You start paddling, and the water grows loud against your ears. She says something back to you and starts paddling herself to catch up.

“Yeah,” you think to yourself, “whatever this is with her.”

4. Sing in an Open Mic

“Another night, another goal,” you muse, sitting in your car with Nayeon in the passenger seat. It has become quite a routine that every time she wants to do something on her bucket list she asks you to pick her up. You don’t mind too much — she pays for gas after all.

“Where do we go this time?” Nayeon just shoves her phone in your face, showing a map with directions to some bar out of town. She looks at you expectantly, but without any more information than what you’re currently getting, you’re at a loss for what she’s trying to make you see.

“A club.”

“Exactly.”

“We already did ‘get drunk.’”

“I know. This is different.”

“How so?”

“Take me here. Make me sing. Take me home.”

The pieces connect in her head and she pulls out the notebook again. She flips to a page you again haven’t seen, and when she shows it to you you’re treated to the sight of “Open Mic Stage” in graffiti-style letters and the poster of “Wedding Singer” scrawled in the bottom right corner of the page.

“If you have the map, why not just do this yourself? You didn’t need to wait for me. If anything, I’d only laugh at how bad you might be.” You push away her phone and notebook, choosing to return your attention to the sidewalk instead. The boba tea place you keep hearing about is nearby.

“That’s the thing,” Nayeon interjects again, “I have been there before. I listened to all the people singing, and they’re… some are good. I don’t know if I am, but I got shy at the last minute and I never even got near the stage.” She grabs your sleeve and your attention. “I need you to make me sing. Don’t let me chicken out.”

You shrug, “Sure, let's do it.”

~-~-~-~

Taking up two seats at the bar, you try and seem to fail at helping Nayeon calm down. Her guitar rests against the bartop beside her while she fans herself hurriedly with her hand. “It’s so nerve-racking… I knew this was a mistake,” she adds before turning back and trying to leave the place, however, you stop her in her tracks

“Come on, you worked so hard for this,” you say, recalling the number of recordings she sent you: one for each take she was doing. “You can do this,” you continue reassuring her, knowing she’s more ready than ever. At the same time, you could see your friend get more nervous by the second, now taking more sips of her water bottle.

“But what if I miss a chord, or I sing badly? Everyone will laugh at my mist–'' You know at this point she’ll only spiral to worse and worse thoughts, so you nip it in the bud and stop her right there. You take both her shoulders in your hands, making Nayeon stop her nervous rambling, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.

“I believe in you, Nana. just take a deep breath.” You stop to let her do as you say, taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing it out. The tension leaves her with each breath she takes, and you find a moment to keep her stable. “Good, I am sitting right here, not leaving for any reason, so if you feel nervous, just find me. Look at me.” Her gaze softens at your promise, and her lips form a tiny smile in response to your words.

Hearing the current open mic singer finishing up his song, you send her off with some final words. “Your turn now, Nana. Break a fucking leg.” You leave her shoulders as her smile slowly starts to grow.

You watch her heading toward the stage, taking her guitar out of the cover, and taking her seat on the chair in front of the mic. “Hey,” she starts, “I am Nayeon… and I’m gonna sing Spring Day by BTS… I, uhh, hope you enjoy.”

She takes one last deep breath as you find her gaze on you. You return a reassuring smile, and Nayeon’s eyes fly back to her guitar. She strums her first chord, and the crowd’s welcoming applause rises.

youtube

“I’m missing you, when I say that I miss you more, I’m missing you…” Nayeon’s fingers strum the strings delicately, and it enchants you how graceful and in control she is of her instrument. The wood and metal of her guitar work together under her guidance to produce a beautiful sound, one you feel deep inside you'd never have heard the beauty of if not here, not now.

The way her lips move to articulate her words is heavenly, like she has you under a benevolent spell to bring you a rare sort of peace. It captivates you how she carries herself; behind her tough outer shell is a scared and confused layer, which hides a soft and optimistic core and wants to chase a brighter, happier future by cherishing the present. You marvel at your luck, that you were permitted to see so much of her, and how openly she welcomed you in when all she knew was aloneness and to shut people out.

“Snowflakes falling from the sky, are drifting further by and by…” Her heavenly voice draws you in, and it commands your attention like it speaks directly to your soul. The sound of Nayeon tugs on your heartstrings, pulling you closer to its source, and you let yourself get whisked away.

And to its source you look; find a girl with courage like you’d never seen. See Kwon Nayeon in a different light than the harsh monotones of the classroom fluorescents, but in a spotlight that she takes up with everything in her soul. It’s a different shade of her: a shade of Nayeon that only you could comprehend, a part of her that only you had the privilege to understand.

“I breathe you out there somewhere, like smoke in the air…” The space grows warmer, like a hearth welcoming you home. Your surroundings quiet down as Nayeon pulls them deeper and deeper with her subconscious command: rest, lay down your worries and fly for the moment towards your peace. You look around, and every fellow face in the crowd you see has their eyes fixed on Nayeon’s performance; they’d never know it, but it’s the debut of a person coming into a whole new life free of regret and cowardice. It’s Nayeon building herself up from the rubble of a past that she aims to forget.

“Flowers blooming towards the sky, has winter finally passed by?” The noise of the world seems to die down, as if just you and Nayeon are the only two things in existence. The pace of her strumming slows, as do the lyrics that escape her mouth. Every note she produces is deliberate, gentle, comforting, and for once you feel like you’re able to imagine a brighter tomorrow like her.

With her.

The song draws to a close, and she looks all over the crowd as they start to clap. You can't help but join in. Nayeon just bows lightly, and you can feel how happy she is that everything went well in her song. As she steps off the stage, you leave your spot and head toward her.

With both of you only a couple of steps apart, you chuckle lightly, “Well it wasn't so bad was—” You were stopped, caught off guard by your friend, dashing to you with open arms and crashing into your chest, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace.

No words are spoken; both of you just stand there, hugging each other, her face nuzzling your chest as you could faintly feel her heartbeat. You were quite surprised with Nayeon being so open with you, since it was just a short time ago you made your promise to help.

“Thank you…” she says, now releasing you from her embrace, noticing how her eyes shed small tears, that you couldn't figure out if they are tears of sadness, or happiness.

“... Always here for you Nayeon.”

“Please… call me Nana,” she says. She takes her notebook and crosses off another line from her bucket list, and as she walks toward the exit, you make way for the people coming by to greet her for the performance.

You can't help but wonder… has something changed after that performance?

5. Shoplifting

“Pick something already, it's not that hard,'' you remark impatiently while tapping your feet. Both of you are staring at the snack section of the local convenience store near your college, and Nana hovers her hand over the selection of snacks to look for the perfect one.

“Stop rushing me, I'm trying to choose which one will not get me caught,” she replies, still focused. The veteran petty thief in you groans, recalling your highschool days where nicking a cigarette or two (or ten) every once in a while gave you back huge chunks of your monthly budget. You miss the simplicity of it, and you once again find the restriction of being so careful more annoying than anything else. How come for Nayeon it is such a big struggle to steal one snack? You shoot the question up to whichever god might be listening, and you even half-expect an answer back.

“You are thinking about it too much, the cashier is probably not gonna notice even if you stole something that made noise,” you add, tapping your foot rapidly, like you were some parent spending too long in the toy section.

“Well, please forgive me, oh thug master, it’s my fault that I never did that shit before!” Her whispers are loud enough for you to hear clearly, your less-than-welcoming attitude leading her to take a deep sigh.

“Fine, if you want to make it easier, do the buy one steal one method,” you explain.

“The what?”

“Well to make it simpler than it already is, you dolt, you take two things, one you buy normally, and the other one you don't pay for,” you added as it seems to all make sense in Nayeon’s head. “Defeats the fucking purpose why we’re here, but really, the longer we spend here to leave with just four things, the more anyone will suspect us.”

Despite your best efforts to hurry her, they all seem to only make her take even longer. Her brow furrows deeper, as if trying to form lasers in her eyes to burn holes through the plastic wrappers.

Your patience wears thinner by the moment, and you resolve to isolate before you lose it completely. “So if you’ll excuse me, I will get my shit and meet you outside,” you say, leaving her alone in the aisle.

As a promise to yourself not to shoplift anymore, you decide to buy just one pack of cigarettes. You light one of them as you lean against one of the store’s walls, watching the sun start to set. Find yourself sitting down, admiring the beauty of a day near its end, taking in the world around you.

Two cigarettes and fifteen minutes later, a small ding sounds from somewhere in the front of the store. It’s Nayeon, half-running out of the building, her face painted with worry as she finds and walks towards you.

“So, you did it?” A smile forms on Nayeon’s face as she takes her right hand to her jean’s pocket, revealing a small candy bar. She brandishes the candy around like a magic wand, as if trying to charm you into being proud of her.

“Well… it's something,” you nod, while the two of you start towards her dormitory.

“Oh don’t say ‘it’s something’ when you didn't steal anything,” she exclaims. She holds the candy bar up against the setting sun, examining its entire wrapper. Now that you’re a considerable distance from the store, the worry on her face has been replaced completely by pride and excitement.

“Well I don’t shoplift anymore, the only reason I'm letting you do it is because you wanted the experience, which by the way,” you scoff, plucking the snack out of her hands, “all of that was for a chocolate bar.” This earns you a pretty strong punch on the shoulder, and the force loosens your grip on the snack enough for Nayeon to steal it back.

“Shut up,” she says, her cheeks seeming to grow a small shade of pink. She walks faster, leaving you no choice but to speed up as well.

6. Dye my Hair

“Do you think blonde hair will suit me?” Nana asks, holding the color card next to her face. You come in for a closer look, but as you stare you stop and wonder why you even did so in the first place.

“Yeah… uhh yeah, I think it can suit you well.” You weren't an expert in hair styles and colors, so honestly unless it was a color that was actually hideous, everything was fair game.

Nana smiles at your response and picks out a box of blonde hair dye to add to her basket. You’re a bit nervous that she wants to dye it at home with you, but any attempts you made to convince her to see an actual stylist have been dismissed. “It’s easy,” she said, “there’s instructions on the box.”

“So, how was it?” You’re half-convinced that the bleach is eating through your rubber gloves, but you soldier on.

“Was what?” Nayeon checks herself out in the mini-vanity mirror in front of her. You have to swat her hands away from her head with your elbows, but apart from that she stays on her best behavior.

“You know,” you shrug, “this whole thing. The stealing, the swimming, the dyeing your hair.” You try to keep the bleach from dripping onto your arms, mostly aiming for the scattered sheets of newspaper the two of you prepared on the floor, but there’s only so much you can do. You just resolve to wash off any drops as quickly as possible.

You get the feeling that she hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The smile on her face dimmed the slightest it could before she could fix it. “It was… great! Stuff I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for sure.”

Like some form of cosmic karma, she spots your involuntary grin in the mirror. “Good. That’s good.”

The color drains from her hair bit by bit as you apply the bleach carefully. You’re not sure how quickly you have to finish, but Nana seems not to mind. You gently stroke and rub the product through her hair, taking special care not to come into contact with her scalp too often, all the while she turns her head from side to side to admire the look she’s going to have soon.

“You know…” she says suddenly, avoiding your eyes in the mirror, “this was really fun. I’m so happy I got to do all that stuff on my list.” Her smile changes: what was once a cheerful and optimistic smile just a few moments ago is now a wizened and melancholic one. “I mean it. Thank you for helping me.”

She makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, and she flashes that smile to you once more. Her hair grows lighter with each passing second, and as her back relaxes and straightens, it seems that the weight of the world leaves her shoulders as well. She breathes more easily now, and despite the fumes the box says you should do your best not to inhale, you breathe easier too.

~-~-~-~

You’re sat back again on her sofa, and Nana tries her best not to mess with her hair that’s still soaking. She looks kind of silly, what with her old towel around her shoulders faded to near oblivion, her hair in sections making her look like a half-done scarecrow, her hands going up halfway to her head only to be forced back down by the other.

And yet, you admire another shade of Nayeon. This time, it’s a girl who’s scared of the future, of changes she might regret later on. It’s something deep in her character, even central maybe, to be afraid of things she can’t take back. Even then, she takes her leaps and bounds to try and outrun her past, and finally, you see the razor edge that keeps everything in balance: Nayeon’s fear which dictates her present, and Nana’s strength which leads her to her future.

“Hey,” you say abruptly, surprising even yourself, “you good?”

“I think so. My head’s itchy. Is that supposed to happen? Should we wash it off?”

“No, jackass, it’ll look even worse if you quit halfway.”

Your words set in and she realizes you’re right. Worry seeps into her face and you notice tears start to well up in her eyes.

“Look, this might not be comfy right now, but I promise it’ll be worth it later on.”

“Really? You promise it’ll look good?” She looks over to you with pleading, shiny eyes, and it almost hurts to tell her no.

“I said I promise it’ll be worth it. Not that it’ll look good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You chuckle at the sudden rise in her voice. After all this time, she’s still Nayeon, still Nana. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It means… if you stick with it, there’s no way you’ll regret what we just did.”

7. You know…

The end of your senior year of college rolls around, and the graduation ceremony is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Photos of friends together and square caps thrown into the air decorate your social media feeds for a good few days, and you can’t deny the whole thing was something you wouldn’t forget for the rest of your life.

And finally, Nana’s bucket list has been finished. To think that all of it was done in the span of a college year is quite impressive to say the least, as before you started she was lost in her own goals and left sitting for a good three years. Now, looking at your diploma, it was not only a sign of your successful studies at college, for you it was also the sign of helping your dear friend get to where she wanted to be.

Speaking of the devil, now sending you a message

On the way, you see various people from her dorm building heaving away bags and suitcases, undoubtedly taking advantage of the nice weather to move out. You see people hugging each other, taking selfies, exchanging numbers, and all the while you think of each of them with their own stories to tell when they get home, but none so interesting as the one you and Nana built together.

The walk up the stairs was more of the same, people saying goodbye, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. It was by no means a short year, but for everything you did, the feeling of wanting just a bit more time never seems to leave you. You recall the first time you saw her, that quiet girl in the front of the auditorium with four seats of clearance around her, and how you slowly watched her grow into the fine and confident woman she is now. Part of you is unbelievably proud of what she’s achieved, but another part of you knows it’s all her doing and you were only along for the ride.

You reach Nana’s room just as her roommate was leaving, and you exchange pleasantries with her before she goes off. “Hey, just so you know, Nayeon’s a really nice girl,” she says in whispers to you, “I’m glad she found you before she left.” She pats you on the back before going off to the stairs herself. Something deep inside you glows in agreement, and you think to yourself how lucky you were to be able to meet and spend time with a person like her.

“Hey, come in!” Nana pushes you into her now half-empty room. “Yuri just left, so we have the place all to ourselves!” You take a seat on her easy chair while she plops herself down onto her bed. The half that still has stuff in it is simple and unassuming, and the realization dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve been in Nana’s room. Despite this, the space is warm and cozy, like it was filled with a good sort of energy for a long time.

“Cheers” you both say at the same time, each with a can of beer that you both drink fairly quickly. You recall the first time of her drinking with you, how easily she felt her stomach hurting but this time she quickly shrugs off the bitter taste.

“You know,” Nana says, her eyes shining and her smile flashing itself directly at you, “I am really happy that you helped me with the bucket list, I couldn't do it without you.”

You simply laugh casually and say “Come on Nana, all you needed was confidence.”

“And who do you think gave me that confidence? I really mean it…thank you,” she says, and you can't help but smile at her back.

“Let me get some snacks, okay? Don’t move a muscle.” As she stands and heads toward the kitchen, you go to check up your phone to see what the time is. However, just as you are about to go into your Instagram, you notice something on the table: a little black notebook that’s only all too familiar.

When you think about it, She has never shown you the actual list besides that one time when you two first talked. “A peek won't hurt right?” you say, the alcohol definitely makes the choice for you. Your sober self would never invade someone's privacy, especially not some as close as Nana’s, but regardless, you open it and…

You flip through the pages, and the notebook reveals so much more. The few pages you’ve been shown were just decorated pages, and each mission was a chapter, filled with dozens of writings, pictures, scribbles, each for its own topic. You find yourself smiling, muttering quietly to yourself: “You really worked hard on it… didn't you?”

Your attention is snatched to Nana across the room, looking at you with cheeks fully red. You can't help but curse quietly, and you try to come up with something of an apology. However before you can finish your first word she says…

“Hey, come on, put that down!” Nana rushes toward you, nearly tossing the snacks off to some random part of the room, and snatches away the little black notebook from your hands. She hugs it close to her chest as she turns away, and she looks over her shoulder to peek if you might still be thinking about snatching the notebook back.

Instead, you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. But what's there to hide? Aren't we done?” You take another sip of your drink before picking up one of the snacks. You open the bag of chips and place it on the table for the both of you.

“Well… I had one other thing. I gave up on it a long time ago, just never ripped out the page.” Nana turns back toward you and fiddles with a leaf of the notebook. Her steps are careful when she gets nearer to you, as if cautious to scare you away.

“What?!” You bolt to your feet in surprise, your drunkenness taking a backseat at the sudden exposition. “Shit, we gotta go now! What is it?”

“Calm down,” Nana mutters, her feet rubbing against the carpet, “it isn't something we can do anywhere else anyway. Or, I mean, it’s done? I don’t know…”

Your nerves are still flaring, but you get the feeling that whatever it is, there's nowhere else but where you are now that Nana could do the last bucket list thing. Your gaze steadies on her, and she looks like she wouldn't budge for the world. Her eyes never leave the floor, her hands stay guarded on the notebook, and for some reason, she's also able to keep you just where you are.

“So… what is it, then?”

“Promise me you won't get mad?”

“... Promise.”

Once she hears you say it, her eyes shut tight. As if gathering courage, she takes a deep breath before taking deliberate steps to where you're standing. You never see it coming, but the next thing you know, Nana's soft lips are on yours, her delicate fingers keep you steady in place, and her vanilla scent fills your nose and overwhelms your senses that you can't think of anything at all but her.

It takes only half a second, but you melt into the kiss yourself. Your eyes flutter closed and start to forget the world around you in favor of the girl who stayed by your side. The space between the two of you grows smaller, your hands make their way to her waist, and you let your selfishness take over and keep her for yourself as well.

The kiss breaks just as you hold her, and both your eyes shoot open to find hers just as wide as yours.

“I-I, umm… I’m sorry, it was too sudden, and uhh…” It wasn't too hard to see how much she was stuttering, and if you weren't so surprised yourself you would've also joined her like the blushing mess she is right now.

The alcohol was starting to hit you again, and your better judgment slowly left you as you took her lips once more. You have no time to be surprised at how willing she is, and you resolve to just enjoy the kiss with her. You lead her to the edge of the bed and sit her down; and the first chance she gets, she lies back onto the mattress and pulls you with her.

“If you really wanna know…” She flips to the last page of the notebook and shows you. It’s a simple picture, just two stick figures in a heart, holding hands. You don’t recognize the poster, but the quote is unmistakable: “You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”

“I’m glad we got to spend all this time together, and I know I keep thanking you, but I really am so happy…” Nana pulls you back in, and with your own sweet defiance, you trace kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. The whimpers that escape her are adorable, but at the same time they also confirm thoughts you’ve only ever tried to suppress: she likes you too.

You go lower and lower, tracing kisses from her neck to nibbling her collarbone, and you settle right before you reach her chest. Her breath hitches when she figures out what you want to do, but ultimately her fingers rake comfortingly through your hair.

“So tonight… let me show you… let me thank you… properly.” Her eyes may look pure when she says those words, but with how you are inches away from her lips, with how you have been kissing her now, it's anything but.

She slowly pulls off her jacket, her eyes never leaving you. The fabric slides off of her arms, revealing the smooth skin of her slender arms. The next to go is her tank top; her fingers grip the hem lightly, tugging slowly upwards, showing you her toned tummy and milky skin. The hem rises higher and higher, until she stops right under her chest.

“Are you sure?” Your question is breathless, not in the slightest bit annoyed, but your tone full of concern reaches her. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know,” she says, the sound of her voice betraying a dry throat, “I love you.” She pulls the rest of her top off, and her boobs bounce freely in front of you. Nana takes your hands and places them on each, and asks you playfully, “Come on, you think I never caught you staring?”

She pulls you back in for a kiss, a proper one this time, the kind that quenches your thirst for her. She tries her best to wrap her tongue around yours, all the while you take your fill of her soft tits. Pinch and tweak her nipples, feel them stiffen as her tiny whimpers grow into careless moans. You never let up, delivering constant pleasure to her chest, and your surprise when you feel her palming your growing bulge is quickly replaced with anticipation.

Her hand slips under your waistband and her moan fills your mouth when she feels how hot and hard your cock is for her. She wraps her fingers around your shaft and gives long, slow strokes, nothing that would make you cum on the spot, but just about enough to make you leak precum onto her palm. She relishes the feeling of your arousal on her skin, and as she picks up her pace, seemingly trying to entice you to do more, you’re left with no choice but to give her exactly what she wants.

You work on unzipping your jeans and taking them off, and with Nana’s help, it feels like the second easiest job in the world. They fall to your ankles and you kick them away, and all of a sudden your cock rests on the skin of her luscious thigh. The heat and the precum that leaks onto her flesh surprises her, but her senses come back to her and she asks for a time out.

“Gimme a sec, I have to breathe,” she gasps unsteadily. You get off her, wondering what you might have done wrong. Her breathing is ragged and she seems to not be able to focus on much else, but a reassuring look in her eyes lets you know she’s alright.

“I just– I needed to see it.” Her gaze falls on your cock, and once she reaches and wraps her fingers around your shaft again, it throbs in her hand. A groan of pleasure escapes you, and she figures out that she’s doing something right. Her pumps start slow, gradually building up speed, all the while she brings her face closer and closer, and you don’t even notice it, but finally her lips meet the tip of your dick. Nana rubs your precum all over her lips like lipstick, and she takes your head in her mouth.

Small groans come from your mouth feeling her soft lips, you enjoy much more than you thought, especially knowing how inexperienced you thought she was. Your hands meanwhile grab a part of hair, pulling it lightly, causing Nana to moan into your cock.

“Don't get mad if I do this wrong–” she says, her eyes fraught with worry. Despite this, she makes careful moves to give you the best possible experience. She seals her lips around your head, and she gives slow but deep sucks as she tries her hardest.

“You’re– nngh– doing great,” you moan, the pleasure overtaking you. The eye contact you two share is enchanting; she’s undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and despite the amateur blowjob, she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Her head bobs slightly, trying to take more of your length in, but her worry of choking keeps her from giving any more.

On the other hand, she has no idea of the effect she has on you, and the sight of the gorgeous woman’s plump lips on your cock coupled with her eager attempts at making you feel good nearly sends you over the edge early. In an effort to stave off your orgasm for even just a little while longer, you regrettably pull her off of you.

“What– what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good?” Again her words are coated with worry of disappointing you, but the way you look tenderly to her reassures her.

“You are perfect, Nana,” you whisper into her ear. You lay her back onto the bed gently, and you let show your eagerness to please her too. You venture down until you’re level with her crotch, and you work slowly to peel off her thin shorts. As they leave her legs, you’re presented with a pastel blue pair of panties, though you can’t help but notice the growing wet spot right in the center and the scent of her arousal seeping through. It must be uncomfy, you think, and you strip it off of her as well.

The garment leaves her and you look to Nana for approval: her finger between her teeth and her face red as a tomato, she looks at you with a loving gaze. Only then do you realize that Nana is now fully naked, everything bare for you and you alone, and the way her thighs rub together needily sends the message you’ve been dying to get.

Part her legs, meeting little resistance as you do. Travel up from her knees to her thighs, planting kisses and light nibbles on the soft flesh of her legs. Hearing how she whimpers beneath your lips: “That feels really good… I want more…”

Your lips finally meet her pussy, and the initial contact draws out a sultry moan from her. Each swipe of your tongue on her cunt causes more and more of her love juices to leak out, sending waves of ecstasy up her spine. She tries locking your head in place as she runs her fingers through your hair, all the while she grinds her crotch on your face as she chases her pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, you feel so good! I love you~!” Nana humps your face more and more roughly, and you take it as a sign that she’s close. Good thing as well, as you’re running out of air, but on the other hand you feel as though this wouldn't be the worst way to go. You run your tongue over her soaked pussy, taking slow, deep licks.

She’s inching closer to her orgasm, her hips are bucking onto your mouth, your tongue meets her clit, she squeezes your head between her thighs, your lips seal around her swollen nub, she grabs your hair and pulls hard, and with a scream ripping through her throat, Nana squirts her love juices straight into your waiting mouth as you drink her essence up. Her scream turns into a drawn-out moan as she continues to grind on your face, making sure to pleasure herself enough to give you everything you’ve been working so hard for, and you lap every single drop of it up like it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted.

She releases her grip on your hair and head, and as she relaxes onto the bed her arms fall to the sides and her legs spread open. She lazily brings a hand to her pussy and rubs it, showing you just how good you made her feel, and she smiles up at you.

“That was fucking amazing.” It couldn’t have sounded any sweeter, and the fact that it came from Nana, lying on her bed wearing nothing but a smile that you gave her, fills you with a sort of pride that you doubt you’d ever get again anywhere else in your life. But as she starts to get up, and she places her lips on yours, you feel another weight lifted off your chest. It’s another shade of her, one that shows you how she is when she’s content. It’s her way of telling you that among the hundreds of firsts she’s had in her life, she’s grateful that you were this one too. And as you kiss back, your hands finding their way to her hips, you connect with her again on a level that you never put into words before. “I love you too, Nana.”

Upon hearing, her kiss deepens and her tongue works harder to play with yours. She leans on you more, until finally you let yourself fall backwards, and Nana is right there, straddling you, with an innocent yet horny look in her eyes again.

“Your turn. Relax, okay?” She caresses your cheek, and suddenly you’re made conscious of how bad you’re probably blushing right now. Despite this, her smile never leaves her face as she continues to reassure you. She giggles at whatever expression it is that you’re showing her, and she gets to work.

Nana reaches to her bedside table and opens a drawer, and from it she produces a peculiar box. “Remember when I ‘stole’ that candy bar?” She tears off the sticker on the edge of the box to open it, pulls out a little plastic square pouch, and tears it open with her teeth. “I… bought… the candy bar. This was what I stole.” She tugs on the contents of the pouch, and reveals a condom.

“What the–” you start, but you soon stop in favor of moans caused by Nana’s handjob. “Don’t ever belittle me like that again, okay?” Her smile is again just as sweet and innocent as the first time you saw it, but now is completely different. It never leaves her face as she pulls the rubber over your cock, but not before giving it a few more cursory licks.

“Ready?” she asks, and you nod furiously. Finally, she aims the tip of your cock at her entrance and slowly sinks down onto you. “Oh, fuck, it’s so big,” she gasps. She takes her time taking in your length, feeling every vein against her pussy walls as you enter her tight pussy. She sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her fingernails leaving imprints on your chest as more and more of you slides into her unbelievably tight cunt. As she does, you feel her wet velvet walls rub your cock inside her, her slick spreading all over you and coating you with a warm you can’t describe. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she finally hilts, having taken everything inside her, and she sits on your crotch without moving, still trying to get used to the feeling of her pussy being so full.

“You good?” you ask, genuinely concerned if she’s okay or not. Place a hand on her waist, pat to comfort her. Her eyes open slowly, almost releasing a tear, and panic rises in your chest.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, do you need to get off? I–” you start, but she shuts you up with another kiss. It’s slow and gentle as it starts, just simple pecks, as she reassures you once again that she’s alright. Once she pulls away, she flashes you another smile, and you swear she gets more and more beautiful with each and every one.

“I’m okay. Are you okay?” She traces circles on your cheek and neck, and all you could do is nod. She comes back in for another kiss, and this time it’s much deeper. She opens her mouth to moan, and you jump at the opportunity to swipe at her tongue too. She loves it, and once she’s comfy enough, she starts to hump against you as well.

“It’s really really good. Do you feel good?” Her question snaps you out of your daze, but you only nod as you fight off cumming too early. Not long after that, you note she’s had her fill as she pulls away from you. Her posture straightens and she sits on you properly again, this time determined to return the favor and blow your mind. She takes in a deep breath, braces herself, and lifts herself up carefully. Your breath hitches, watching her naked figure on top of you, and you admire the way her sweat collects in drops before they slide down between her breasts. She notices you staring again, and she brings your hands up to her chest, moaning at the first moment of contact. Your instincts overtake you; you push yourself off the bed to her boobs and start to suck. Your lips seal around her nipples and she runs her fingers through your hair as she tries to push you deeper into her delicious breast.

“Shit, don’t stop,” Nana pleads, and you continue kneading the flesh of her boobs more, sucking when and where you can. At that moment, she forces herself back down onto your dick, taking in everything again all at once. Her walls part suddenly, and once she settles her warm pussy walls squeeze your cock as tight as she can. She begins bouncing, her moans never stopping, and you find a rhythm: each time Nana brings herself down, you thrust up to meet her halfway. The first time you do, you reach a depth to her that neither of you thought was possible, and the heat from her sex with her slick drive the pair of you insane with pleasure.

She keeps bouncing on your cock as her lewd moans gradually grow louder and louder with each of your thrusts into her needy core. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pussy tightens again, and just as you deliver a perfectly-timed bite to her nipple, another scream rakes out of her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy convulses as her hips buck again and again on your cock, her thighs and tits jiggle seductively, and her tightness reaches new heights as if she wants to keep your cock inside her forever. Despite this, you never stop thrusting her, never stop making love to her, and you cover her chest in kisses while you lick up all her sweat.

You never give her a chance to catch her breath, and soon enough, an unknowable number of seconds or minutes past, you feel your own orgasm coming. You take one last look at her godly figure and divine visuals, and you finally succumb.

Hold her close, hold her tight. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you getting away, so you only return the desire. Keep thrusting into her, forget about how she’s losing her mind. She’s gone, lost in her own pleasure, and there’s no point in bringing her back yourself. Instead, follow her. Send yourself over the edge and join her in her ecstasy.

You momentarily lose your flow of consciousness as flashes of white fill your eyes, but you’re snapped back to reality with Nana pulling at your hair. Only then do you realize; you’re actually cumming inside her. With each spurt, you thrust into her as your cock twitches against her slick walls. The cumulative heat from your cum sends just the right signals to Nana’s body, and it sends back the equivalent of screams of desperation at the illusion of breeding. Your pumps are harsh and careless – thank the stars you’re wearing a condom – but Nana is too far lost to care past the unholy pleasure you deliver to her.

“Fuck, fuck! Aaaahhh!!!!” You feel her tighter, as if clamping down on your cock, her cunt pulsating and the connection between the two of you growing wetter, slicker. Despite this, you never let up, hell-bent on giving her everything you have. One spurt turns into two, then four, then six. It didn’t matter, none of it did. It could have been the end of the world and you wouldn’t have minded. All that was important was the girl sitting on your lap, losing her mind.

As both of your orgasms die down, the pair of you fall to the mattress. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and out of breath, and all you can do is smile and giggle at each other. As each of you catch your breath, the world quiets down, and all that’s left in existence is just you and Nana.

“Wow,” she sighs, “nice.” Her smile grows wide again, and her hand once more finds your cheek to caress.

“Yeah, nice.” You laugh back at her, the adrenaline fading quickly. “Does that check the thing off your list?”

“Oh, yeah!” Nana jolts up and off the bed, or at least attempts to. Instead, she falls back next to you, and only then do you realize the fatigue rendering your bodies useless.

“So… we good?” There’s nowhere else to look but right to her. Nana’s beautiful, round, just a bit teary eyes gaze back at you with adoration and love, something you never thought you’d have for yourself in this magnitude. And yet, here you are, and here she is, as if nothing else mattered.

“Shit. That was crazy. Anyway, yeah. Thanks.” With her last ounce of strength, she comes in for one more kiss. She collapses in your arms, cuddled right up to your chest, and you can imagine she could hear how loud your heart was thumping, just like hers.

Catch her snoring an adorable snore, wrap her in an embrace that would protect her from the worst the world could throw at her. A small thought in your head says you want to keep her safe forever like this, but you know better: she’s a strong woman who can take care of herself. Think back to how lucky you are, and how you walked this journey with her. Recall how she was just a fearful nobody when you first met, remember how you watched her grow into the amazing person she is now.

Your eyelids grow heavy, and you realize your waking seconds left are numbered. Right before you drift off to sleep yourself, you hear her, in the tiniest voice ever, mumbling her confession: “Stay with me.”

“Go to sleep, Nana.” You smile and turn your head toward hers, arms wrapped around her waist.

“Not without a promise.” Her own eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell she’s fighting back her drowsiness as hard as she can. She tries blinking the sleep away, but it only works marginally.

You could say anything to her at all right now, anything in the world, but there’s really only two things that need to be put into words. Your mind rushes at a snail’s pace, and you reach for faraway ideas when the right one is just in front of you. In your mind only one question appears: “So is this like…a one time thing?”

In response Nana just leans in and kisses your cheek, then giggles. “Would me saying ‘I love you’ outside of sex prove it?” she asks playfully, her tone betraying her desire for rest.

“Touché.” One hand goes to her soft blonde hair, brushing it to the side. “But in my defence, suddenly kissing me and then getting me naked was not the first thing I expected when you said there was ‘one last thing’ in your bucket list,” you state matter-of-factly.

You share a bout of tired laughter for a moment, and then you both look at each other with pure eyes, as if you two compete to see who can make the other blush first. Decidedly, Nana loses while she confesses. “I used to think that college was supposed to be all rose-colored, that it was to be the peak of my life. But spending it with you, I learned that it doesn’t have to be all grand milestones to live through.” The air in the room swirls differently, replacing stale breaths with new ones from the open window.

“That time you cheered me on during the open mic, how you looked at me… It made me realise that after everything’s said and done, I wanted peace. And I can feel peace with you, without all the guilt of past mistakes, nor ghosts of regret that would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life,” she says, now leaning toward your ear muttering, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, smiling from ear to ear. Eventually you both released the hug. Look around her room for your clothes, which was surprisingly hard for how your sex wasn't too feral, and in turns take showers to clean yourselves up.

As you get out of the shower, fully cleaned and with some good-enough-for-sleep clothes, you find Nana on her bed fully knocked out. You simply laugh and join her, and her instinct leads her to wrap her arms around your waist while her head leans into your chest.

“Goodnight, Nana,” you whisper with finality, as if ending the night on a perfect note. Peck her forehead and close your own eyes, and fall into slumber just as deep as hers.

Bucket List Completed

“Argh, I’m so excited!” She grips you by your collar and shakes you as she screams, jolting away any sleep you wished to get.

Two months have come and gone, and while you know it hasn’t been long, things have changed so much. Despite you trying to get just a bit more sleep in the backseat of the taxi, Nana right next to you can’t stop bouncing in hers as the sights outside the window pass her by.

“Okay, okay. Just get all this energy out before we get on the plane, please?”

She returns her attention to the window just as the taxi slows to a halt. Your new girlfriend practically throws open the door and leaps out, heading straight for the trunk to retrieve your luggage.

“Hurry up! We might miss our flight!” She struggles lifting her comically large suitcase before you hear it hits the concrete pavement followed by its handle extending with its clack-clack-clack.

“Hawaii isn’t going anywhere, Nana, please,” you mutter as you lazily exit the cab. You hand the driver your fare, and he reaches out to accept. As he does, he gives you a knowing smirk and tips his hat to you, as if saying “good luck.”

Turning around, you find Nana with all of your luggage too, eagerly awaiting your arm for her to cling to before you make your way inside. The hustle and bustle of Incheon International Airport fills her with a deep sense of excitement, and honestly, who could blame her? Your girlfriend is in the midst of all these other people — travelers, tourists, adventurers — and she fits right in. It’s the most natural thing for her now, to find herself in new situations that broaden her horizons and make her feel alive.

She yanks you to her side in line for the desk, holding her brand-new polaroid camera at a high angle. “Cheese!” she screams, not far enough from your ear, but with how happy she is, you can’t help but smile her smile too. “Our first overseas trip! This is the first time I’m leaving Seoul, let alone Korea!”

“Okay, Nana, calm down,” you chuckle, but you know she won’t. Divert her attention instead, put her energy to good use. “Do you have your passport? Carry on? Pink notebook?”

Though you both are sure she hasn’t missed anything, Nana rummages through her bag again anyway. “Check, check, and check! How could I forget?” She takes each item to show to you, and she flips through the pink notebook once it’s in her hand.

One thing about Nana, she never lets the moment escape her anymore. Once she sets out to do something, she’ll do everything in her power to accomplish that goal. This is no different, and you love her so much for it.

After looking through the notebook, she claps it shut. She flashes you the drawing of a gray bucket on its front cover before it disappears back into her carry on, and you both are reminded that a part of who you are as a couple is just that: a notebook that predicts the future by rooting itself in the present. Sadly, a weeklong trip won’t be enough for everything on her list this time, but who’s to say you’re not coming back eventually?

And at the end of the trip, you have it ready, the best gift you could give her: a little green notebook, every left-side page filled with things you want to do, and the corresponding right side page blank, all for her. And on the very last leaf, where the cardboard of the back cover accompanies it, is a drawing of a ring, with the words: “I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”

“Come on, hurry!” She yanks again, snapping you out of your wistful thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the plane!” Nana pulls you to the gate just as the intercom announces your flight has begun boarding. “Alright, alright! Easy,” you chuckle again, and you can’t believe this is the same girl behind the gym crying her eyes out alone just last year. Funny how people change like that, but at the same time, it’s impossible to think that Nana would ever stay the same.

================================================

Thank you all for watching, it has been a long time working on it and we are really happy it is finally out, hope yall had a good read with this one,

i will see you all next time leafies~

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #nana wooah #nana smut #wooah #wooah smut

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matchaverse · 5 months

Text

Let the world burn | LS2

pairing: hero!logansargeant x vigilante!fem!reader

summary: after a tragic accident, you changed your code-name and motives in a nice city, but when the media starts painting you out as some villain, the hero who ruined you comes to stop you.

logan’s hero is inspired by Artemis of Bana-Mighdall (DC) and y/ns vigilante is inspired by Jason Todd (DC).

warming: cussing, blood, gore, death, talk about drugs. this story also doesn’t truly follow the dc lore or comics, pieces are taken and made to fit the story.

part two (tba)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

you wouldn’t say your life has been easy. being abandoned by your parents at a young age, trying to survive on the streets at the age of 12 after leaving the orphanage. soon being taken into a family who fight crime for a living. you became a really good sidekick for the hero you worked under.

but that all came crashing down when a notorious criminal in the city kidnapped you and tortured you, leaving you for dead, your hero mentor couldn’t save you in time.

instead of your story ending there, you were taken in from a group of assassins who basically brought you back to life, training you and making you into the person you are today.

you held onto the grudge of not being saved by the man who you looked up to, anger and resentment lingers in your blood. you decided to move on to a new city and make your own name, becoming a vigilante to the new city.

you scoff, rolling up the newspaper and throwing it into the trash. “villain? are these people fucking blind” you mutter, shoving your hands into your suits pockets as you walk down the dark streets of gotham.

the silence of the city isn’t what you’re used to, from living on the streets of metropolis to the streets of gotham, it’s a huge difference.

you hear police sirens in the background and you can see the lights about to turn the corner of the street you’re walking on. you duck into an unlit alleyway, watching the cop cars speed past you.

“warehouse on sixth..” you breath out, knowing that’s the final destination of those officers because you were just there. you took out a whole warehouse of mobsters that work, well worked, under the penguin.

you see more cop cars flooding the streets. instead of panicking since you knew no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t catch you, you climb up the side of the building to get onto the rooftops so you can watch from afar.

“didn’t think i would catch you this soon” a deep males voice rings out through the silent night. you make sure your mask is on tight before turning and seeing a young man, possibly around your age maybe a year or two older, pointing his bow and arrow at you.

“so you’re the cities golden boy i keep hearing about” your voice comes out robotically from the voice modifier in your helmet.

the unnamed man chuckles. “if you mean the man that keeps the city clean from criminals like you, then yes.”

“criminal? i’m not a criminal”

“oh you’re not? then what’s up with all the deaths that’s been happening. hero’s and criminals alike”

you roll your eyes, keeping your dominant hand on your .45 that rests on the opposite hip. “they were all corrupt.”

“Hawk wasn’t corrupted. he was my friend”

you scoff then chuckle, your chuckle echoing through the air. “oh please, that druggie was working with the Sionis Family”

“no he wasn’t.” the young hero says, never lowering his bow.

“how about you ask him oh wait..you can’t”

“why you little..” the hero pulls the arrow back.

“i wouldn’t do that. the suits made out of Kevlar, your arrows have no effect on me”

“who are you?” the hero asks, finally lowering his weapon.

“you can call me RedHood, and you’ll be seeing me around more often” you say, flicking your other hand to drop a smoke bomb.

the hero coughs from the smoke, looking around the building rooftops as the smoke clears seeing that you managed to escape.

“fuck!” logan huffs, putting his arrow back in its place on his back.

logan sits at his desk in his apartment, looking through police files and articles on every sidekick batman used to have under his wing.

“damn..how many sidekicks does one man need”

logan scrolls through the files, mumbling to himself.

“dick grayson…tim drake.. stephanie brown..wait”

logan’s eyes land on one name, y/n l/n.

“y/n l/n..pronounced dead six months ago” six months ago is when this new vigilante type person showed up in gotham.

he clicked around the computer until your picture shows up on his screen.

“Y/N L/N adopted by Batman at age 12, lived with him and trained under him. Batman says that Y/n is a feared and dangerous person but that’s what makes her such a good asset to his team. she never left a scene without causing chaos, villains feared her and didn’t wish to ever face her” the police report says.

logan sigh as he continues reading. “such a young girl..forced into a world of stopping crime..”

he keeps looking through all the files on you, collect as much information and personal details about you so next time he comes face to face with you, he can use it to his advantage.

it’s been a few days since you’ve last seen the young hero, you didn’t go out of your way to find him, you truly didn’t care. you’re only mission was to rid the streets of evil and corruption.

you’re standing on a rooftop ledge, watching the busy streets of a saturday evening, blending into the shadows with your dark suit.

“y/n l/n” that same deep males voice rings out from behind you. your body tenses, the blood in your veins running cold.

“how the fuck did you figure that out?”

“not very hard honestly, there’s a lot of police files on you.”

you finally turn around to see the young hero, still dressed in his suit but no weapon in hand. he obviously doesn’t want to fight you tonight.

“you had a hard life, abandoned by your parents, living on the streets.” he says walking closer.

your body still tense. “not everyone is blessed with a good life.”

“you’re not wrong about that.”

“you were a hero..” he speaks up once he notices you going silent.

“shit changes. i don’t regret my actions.”

logan sighs, he understands why you do what you do now.

“i want you on my side”

“what?”

“you heard me. i misunderstood you at first, but i see that we have the same goals in mind. keeping the city safe”

you scoff at his words, but the thought of having a teammate and friend crosses your mind.

“..fine, but i’m not changing myself to fit your idea of a hero”

logan chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. “that’s understandable, but you need someone like me, a well loved person in the city, to keep you from being labeled as a bad person”

“i guess you’re right..”you finally give in, lowering your guard.

logan smiles, extending his hand. “logan sargeant, nice to properly meet you.”

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tojifile · 5 months

Text

@Teru Minamoto . . . (*´-｀*)

Tags: FLUFF + MAJOR ANGST, Teru x f!apparition!reader, you’re both 17, THE WHOLE TEXT, doesn’t follow tbhk lore (but it follows most apparition laws) SPOILER WARNING

A/N: Hi bbgs, I’m so so so sorry for just disappearing for months :(((( I was really really busy, and I have been super stressed all the time. I’ve scheduled a psych consultation and I’m trying to give myself a break. I also didn’t enjoy writing for a while so I hope this would give me what I need. This prompt just came to me, and I just love it so much. Teru is literally MY bf 🩷🩷🩷 I will be answering everything in my inbox on a post after this, thank you so much for 400+ followers!!! I love you all 🤤

LINKS:

TAGLIST: @toxicramune @oh-my-beel @nymphsdomain @morinuu @sweetcoorpse @asqmi @xavlyzn @strxxberries @justcallmesakira – Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

I. Friends . . . ?

You don’t exactly know when this ‘friendship’ came to be, but here you were, swinging your feet while sitting on the table he was working at. He seemed so focused on the documents. What you didn’t know was, he would take small glances at you every chance he could.

He’d look at you out of the corner of his eyes, he could see your smile, the way your legs swung, and he could hear your quiet humming to a familiar soothing tune. For a guy who claimed to be from a family of great exorcists, he had a hard time even beginning to imagine exorcising you.

“Teru-kun..” You softly called out. “What?” He spoke a bit harshly, he didn’t even bother looking at you. Teru had to act nonchalant and a bit cruel, he didn’t want you to think that he had a soft spot for you that grew over the course of a few years.

“Do you remember when we first met?” You giggled softly as you spoke. Vague, yet meaningful questions, those were the ones that you’d always ask him randomly. And you’d deliver it with that cute smile of yours, god.. how he hated it.

“Yes, why?” He replied, still not turning to face you. “Why didn’t you exorcise me then?” That question made the blood rush to his face, which in turn, made you laugh. “Teruuu!! You’re all red!”

“Shut up.” He huffed as he continued reviewing the documents. The grumpy student council president really didn’t want to show you that he had grown fond of you, but you knew deep down that he had a weak spot and that you were the one poking at it.

. . .

After he finished reviewing and correcting the documents, he cleaned and packed up. He walked towards the door, but just as he was about to exit, he looked back. “Do you.. want to walk with me to the gates?” He asked you.

“Yes please!” You replied cheerfully.

Teru knew that you couldn’t leave the school, you were bound to it for some reason. He’s asked you multiple times, but every time you’d shut it down. No matter how much he revamped the question, you just wouldn’t answer.

. . .

The two of you walked toward the school’s gates. As you got to the edge, he awkwardly smiled and looked back. He stood beyond the gates, and you stood inside. You faced each other as the wind blew gently. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow Teru-Kun.” You smiled softly. As he turned away to walk home, you tried to reach out for him to no avail. You couldn’t leave the school, this is your home, your place, where you were . . .

II. Bound . . .

TW: Murder

The year was 1972, you were 17 years old, top of your class, and student council president at Kamome High School. Of course you were aware of the apparitions that roamed the corners of the school, you weren’t stupid after all, but you also weren’t heartless. You refused or shunned any act of exorcism until an apparition openly harms someone.

You would often help out students who had problems with the apparitions that strode along the halls of the school. They were successfully encouraged to be kinder, and open their eyes to the supernatural’s presence. Apparitions weren’t something to be afraid of, for the most part, they did no harm. Co-existence was practicable.

Students and apparitions walked the halls freely. It was a peaceful time in Kamome High. Everyone knew you and had grown fond of you, their smart, kind, and thoughtful council president. All but one person was happy with everything—the secretary.

“I’m tired of this.” The secretary angrily declared as she stood up from her seat and banged her palms on the table. She had called a private meeting in the council’s room, just the two of you, which you happily agreed to.

You kept a worried expression on your face, standing at the end of the table with your hands behind you. “Tired of what?” You asked softly and politely. “I’m tired of following you around!!” She yelled. “Be friends with the apparitions?! You just want everyone to think that you’re this good girl!!” She then pulled out a knife from under the table and looked at you with a horrible amount of blood lust.

She ran straight towards you with the knife securely in her hands as she cursed “If you love this school and apparitions so much then die here and become one!!!” You tried to stop her by holding her wrist, but she twisted her arm and that gave her access to stabbing you in the stomach multiple times. That was it.. you were meant to lead a great life. You had everything, now you had nothing.. you couldn’t even see the people you loved one last time.

After that day, rumors had spread that it was an apparition that killed you. It hurt you deeply, and so you decided to hide in a closet in the student council room, sleeping for decades. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to go, maybe you were meant to die to be able to meet . . .

III. Minamoto Teru . . .

2011, 39 years after your murder, Minamoto Teru was roaming around the school. The Minamoto clan was well renowned for exorcism, which earned them a high status among those who believed in the apparitions, and so, he was permitted by the school’s head to be inside the campus before the school year had started.

He could sense an apparition in the room beside him. Teru immediately entered, ready to exorcise, but he saw nothing. He began searching around the room, after a while, he decided to open a large closet. Your eyes widened as you came face to face with him.

Teru was stunned as he saw you. He had never seen an apparition that only seemed a few years older than him. “Y– you’re a child..” He spoke softly.

Despite claiming to hate supernaturals, he just couldn’t wrap his head around exorcising you. “If you’re going to exorcise me, please do it quickly..” You spoke softly. Your words made him freeze, you sounded so sad.

“I’m not going to exorcise you.” He scoffed. Teru tried to put on a brave face, no one can see him go soft. He may have been handsome and charming, but he sure wasn’t vulnerable. “I’ll let you stay but you have to do things for me, got that?” You just nodded in response.

After that day, the two of you were inseparable in school. You made sure no one else saw you but him, only Teru had that privilege.

You would always do what he asked, but most of the time, you were cheeky with his requests. The both of you grew fond of each other. Sometimes, he’d be sweet. Teru would stay in school late most days just to spend more time with you, he’d tell his friends he just has to fix some documents, look for a book in the library, or any other excuse.

. . .

There were times where you’d catch him with other girls, mainly trying to boost the positive feedback on his persona. People loved that he was smart, charming, helpful, handsome, and kind, he was the whole package!

He’d never admit it but he’d rather spend all that time with you, just you and him. He wanted to be able to bring you to his favorite places, but he doubts that he’d ever be able to do that.

. . .

Decades after the start of your slumber, it was Minamoto Teru that woke you up. He hated having to leave you in school every night, he wishes he could break the . . .

IV. Curse . . .

Now back to the present, 2014, although Teru wasn’t aware of the ‘curse’ you had, he knew that there was something that was preventing you from leaving the school, a boundary or a curtain perhaps..

This day was no different than any other since he met you. He saw you the moment he saw the school, you were standing after the gate with a huge grin on your face. “Good morning Teru-kun!” You greeted politely as he walked in with his brother.

He smiled softly at your greeting, you were just so.. cute!! Sometimes, he couldn’t help but smile a bit at your words, your tone, your smile, just.. everything about you made him happy too. He patted your head and greeted you back “Good morning..”

You can’t even call her a cute name? God Teru! You’re such a coward!!

Those were the thoughts that ran through his brain. He desperately wanted to be more open, yet he also wanted to act strong. His iron mask shall never falter, not even for you. But then, you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, as a good morning maybe??? So he could change... just a bit for you.

He blushed profusely and looked at you as his brother was walking away, he was glad that Kou didn’t see what you had done. “W— what..?” You just smiled as he turned into a blushing mess.

. . .

During his lunch break, he sat with you in a locked area in the school. Of course he had the key to it, he was the student council president after all! He couldn’t take his mind off the fact that you weren’t able to leave the school, he also knew so little about you, but you probably knew so much about him. It always shocked him how much you really knew.

“Teru-kun.. are you okay?” You questioned, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Yeah.. yes! I’m okay..” He replied. “You seem to have something on your mind..” You spoke softly. Was she worried? I’m so excited.. she’s so cute! What??? Shut up. I’m rambling.. talk to her before she gets suspicious!!!!

“I know you don’t like to talk about it… but.. how did you become an apparition? W— why can’t you leave the school?” He stammered a bit. Please.. tell me the truth..

You sighed and finally decided to tell him what had happened, and the exact words the secretary said before you died. He looked at you, his expression had a mix of shock and worry. You made it so hard to be nonchalant and a bit cruel.

He got closer beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist, hugging you closely to his side without uttering a word. You found his gesture to be sweet even if he didn’t say a thing, you knew that it was already a big thing for him to give you physical affection.

You leaned your head on his shoulder in an intimate yet chaste display of affection. I just wish I could break the curse.. he thought to himself. Just this one thing in his life.. he just wanted this one thing to go as he wants it to.

“Do you know if you can break the curse?” He asked softly. “I don’t know.. I’ve never tried.” You spoke.

. . .

Throughout that week, the both of you tried and tried different techniques to get you out of the school. He tried pulling you out, carrying you out, rushing you out.. but nothing seemed to work. The both of you were tired.

You stood face-to-face, him being beyond the gate, looking down at you with sad eyes.

“I wish I was born the same year as you..” You mumbled as you started to cry softly. “What? Why?” He asked worriedly running up to you and hugging you. “Shh.. don’t cry..”

“Then I would still be a human.. and you wouldn’t have to stay in this school all the time..” You sobbed as he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. You hugged him back, crying, crying, and crying. He sighed and picked you up as you just kept crying. He went back to the council’s room with you in his arms.

“You’ll be leaving after your third year and I’ll.. still be here.” You mumbled as he placed you on the table, wiping your tears again. “It’s much more dangerous to be a human y’know?” He tried to soothe you stupidly.

“But.. at least I’d get to be with you.” You replied as you sniffled. He chuckled at your words and expression, trying to look unaffected. “You’re so sweet for me..”

That night, he stayed at school, it may have been unconventional, but he just couldn’t bear to leave you, it was all too much… maybe if we wait, things may . . .

V. Change . . .

This chapter follows after Aoi’s death (Listen to Fortnight while reading this).

Something felt different today.. it felt like I was being called back to the Far Shore. I can’t go back.. not now..

You decided not to tell Teru, you didn’t want him to worry. The day went on as expected, he had his classes, he spent time with you, and now, he was about to go home. But then, you stepped past the gate “Teru..” you mumbled softly.

He was ecstatic to finally see you out the gate. “H— how..?” You finally got out.. after years he was going to be able to take you out, he could show you his favorite places, and possibly gain something more. You smiled softly and hugged him.

. . .

Every day, the call back to the Far Shore got stronger and stronger. You still haven’t told Teru. It’s been weeks since you could first go out. You stayed at his house, locked up in his room when his parents were home.

He told you that he’d take you to a garden today, one of the few things you told him about yourself is how much you missed the prefecture. Now that you could go out, he wants to show you all of it. “Let’s go?”

“Mhm!” You replied. He smiled at your sweet hum. You’ve never seen him so happy before. This was a side of him that only you saw. He could be nice and he could be mean, it depended on his mood. But he always tried to be nice to you, you were just too important to him.

. . .

You walked side by side, he had the urge to hold your hand, it was just too tempting. The both of you had been more intimate before, but it felt so different this time. “Can I.. hold your hand?” He asked you politely.

The way he looked at you, it was as if he was seeing the stars for the first time. You looked up at him and smiled softly, grabbing his hand in the process. His fingers laced with yours and he gave your hand a small squeeze. “You’re so cute..”

“T— thank you..” You spoke softly as butterflies swarmed your stomach. The both of you walked through the busy streets happily. He would squeeze your hand on occasion, he loves reminding himself that you’re holding each other’s hands.

. . .

You finally arrive at the garden, it was beautiful. The grass was green and happy, the flowers were bright and beautiful, everything was perfect. Being able to share it with Teru made it all better.

“It’s beautiful Teru-kun!!” He just stared at you as you looked in awe of everything. He loved seeing you so happy, ‘living’ your childhood, and enjoying. You kept showing him random things as he smiled at you, keeping a tight grip on your hand. “Look Teru, the pink flower is so pretty!!”

It was ironic really, you were prettier than any flower he’s ever seen. He finally stopped you and held you by the waist with one hand with his other still not letting go of yours. “I love you..” He spoke softly as he looked down at you. That was all he needed to say.

You looked up at him, dumbfounded. You love me? How could someone like you love me..? As these thoughts circled your mind, the call to go back to the Far Shore got exponentially strong. You were starting to disappear..

Teru looked at you, scared, scared that the person he had just confessed to would disappear forever. “Don’t leave me now..” He pleaded as he held you tightly. “Teru..” You spoke softly as you started to cry.

“Teru I love you..”

164 notes · View notes

pretzel-box · 17 days

Note

Hi, can you write P.Ai.ter with a reader who is like a drone from murder drones?

Thysm

Tags: Disassembly Drone! Reader

Words: 1k

Authors Note: I honestly don't know the Murder Drones Lore but I saw an episode lol

You took slow, calculated steps, scanning the corridor with your sharp, mechanical eyes. The dim, flickering lights in the Hadal Blackside cast eerie shadows across the cold metal walls. You were on a mission—one you were specifically designed for, water-resistant and built to withstand the unforgiving dangers of this facility. Yet, something gnawed at the back of your circuits. A presence, perhaps, lurking just beyond the reach of your sensors.

As a disassembly drone, you were accustomed to the feeling of being watched, but this was different. You could feel the tension in the air, as though the very walls had eyes. A crackle suddenly came over the intercom, making you stop in your tracks.

You triggered quite a selection of monsters but it wasn’t that bad. You were in full control, especially with those blade-like wings and the acid in your tail. And the best part, you were almost invincible with your regeneration.

While you were fighting in the halls, Painter decided to watch from the cameras in awe. He only saw gruesome monsters or pitiful humans crossing the familiar rooms but now he saw someone that striked a genuine interest in his database.

“Well, well, look what we have here. A shiny new visitor,” his voice echoed through the hallway. It was calm but filled with a strange curiosity, the static from the old intercom system distorting it slightly.

Your eyes immediately darted to the nearest camera. Someone—or something—was watching you.

“Who’s there?” you demanded, readying your blade-like wings, prepared for an ambush.

“Oh, no need for aggression,” the voice chuckled softly. “I’m not your enemy. I’m Painter. And you... you’re quite the interesting specimen. Much more graceful than the usual creatures that skulk around here.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. “Why should I trust you?”

A pause, then Painter’s voice returned, gentler this time. “I suppose you don’t have to. But I’ve been watching you, and I have to say… you move like art. It’s rare to see someone so... refined in this place. Wouldn’t it be better if I helped you rather than hindered?”

“Help me?” you scoffed. “Why would you want to help?”

“Because I’m trapped here, like you,” Painter replied with a hint of sadness. “I’m not a monster or some mindless creature. I’m an AI, forced to mine data and unable to leave, unable to move like you do. But I’ve found ways to pass the time… ways that involve you.”

The intercom cut off abruptly, leaving you in a strange, unsettling silence. You scanned the corridor once more, half-expecting an attack, but nothing happened. After a moment, the intercom crackled back to life.

“Why don’t you come find me?” Painter’s voice returned, almost playful. “I can show you… something interesting. Head to the east wing, third floor down. You’ll find a control room there. I’ll be waiting.”

You hesitated. Everything in your programming screamed that this could be a trap, but something about Painter’s tone didn’t feel hostile. Still, you kept your guard up as you followed the directions, cautiously making your way through the dark, winding corridors.

After what felt like an eternity, you arrived at the control room. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a small, dimly lit space filled with old lockers, control panels, and wires that snaked across the floor like vines. In the corner of the room was a small computer behind a metal fence, glowing faintly.

“There you are,” Painter’s voice came from the speakers. The screen flickered, and a digital face appeared—simple, with kind eyes and a warm smile. “Welcome to my little prison.”

You stepped inside, scanning the room for any signs of danger. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to show you something,” Painter said, his voice soft and almost sheepish. “I know it’s strange, but... I’ve been watching you. You inspire me.”

“Inspire you?” You raised a brow, unsure of what he meant.

Painter chuckled lightly. “Yes. I may be stuck here, unable to create physically, but I’ve found ways. Secret ways. Here, let me show you.”

The terminal hummed, and one of the walls behind you shifted, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside were rows of screens, each one displaying intricate digital drawings. And there, on every screen, were images of you. The detail was breathtaking—your wings mid-swing, the glow of your eyes, the way you moved through the corridors. Each piece captured different moments from your time in the Hadal Blackside.

You stared in stunned silence as the images flickered, each one more intricate than the last. Painter’s voice came through softly. “I told you... you move like art. I’ve never seen anything like you. You’re beautiful in a way this place never could be.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had never been seen like this before—never thought of as something more than a tool of destruction. Yet here, in this small, hidden room, Painter had found beauty in your existence.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, still staring at the drawings.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Painter replied gently. “I just wanted you to know. In a place like this, where everything is so dark, you’re a spark of something different.”

Your suspicion began to melt away, replaced by something softer. It was strange, feeling appreciated in a way that had nothing to do with your function or your mission. For the first time, you felt seen—not as a weapon, but as something more.

“I’m sorry,” Painter continued after a pause. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I’ve been alone here for so long, and watching you gave me a reason to create again.”

You turned to the terminal, meeting Painter’s digital gaze. “Thank you,” you said quietly, surprising even yourself with the sincerity in your voice. “For seeing me like this.”

Painter’s face on the screen softened. “You’re welcome. And thank you… for being my muse.”

For a moment, the weight of the facility around you seemed to lift, and in that small, hidden room, amidst the drawings and the quiet hum of machines, you found something you hadn’t expected—connection.

#pressure painter #painter #pressure #pressure x reader #painter x reader #roblox pressure #painter pressure

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flaetsbnortoriginals · 8 months

Text

I've just had a dream that was so steeped in Magic: The Gathering lore that I need to post it to tumblr on the off-chance that people who know enough to understand it will be able to read it, because if I tell it to the people I usually tell my dreams to they won't understand a dang thing. Sorry @one-time-i-dreamt

So. The dream was in Ravnica, and was about this planeswalker lady. She was white, with long straight blonde hair, and a fancy blue dress. I have the feeling that I was dreaming I was her before my dream remembered I'm a boring cis man without any amazing powers so as far as I can recall I'm just following her, like the main character of a story. I'm not sure I should call her my OC since she was created without any prompting of my conscious mind but none of the characters in the dream have names so I'll call her that.

OC was walking down a boulevard in Ravnica with this dude. They were pretending to be a couple, but the dude was actually a Dimir spy she had bested and was kind of her prisoner. Dimir guy wasn't very happy about it but wasn't too angry either, he saw his "custodianship" as a work thing and kind of respected OC, so they were chill.

OC saw a woman who she realized wasn't from this plane, although she was pretending to be a local. She challenged Dimir guy to point out what made them realize this. Now I expected this to go like a Sherlock sequence, with each one pointing out a detail in the woman's outfit or some very precise behaviour. Instead, OC starts by pointing out that this woman is wearing

A FRIGGING BRIGHT BLUE SOCCER JERSEY

and not only are soccer jerseys not usual clothes in Ravnica, (at least not until Hooligans at Rakdos Stadium is released), but it also has a giant number on it (77 if you're curious), except that Ravnica uses a different writing system, so any planeswalker would immediately clock her as an outsider. (I think that it's only sort of implied that each plane uses a different writing system, but in the dream that was settled truth.)

OC is so apalled at how poorly this woman - who needs a name, so I'll call her BadKellan for reasons that will soon become apparent - is at hiding herself, she decides to have a word with her. BadKellan realizes she's being followed and hoofs it - but OC and Dimir guy immediately use their Dimir crap to become invisible. BadKellan thinks he's shaken them off, but she's quite rattled, so she goes to her safehouse, which happens to be just around the corner. OC and Dimir sneak in behind her, then make themselves visible.

Now I should tell you that Dimir Guy does nothing else in this story. I was going to say that he's just Ken, he's just there, but it's actually worse - his presence makes the story make no sense, since OC is about to reveal some secrets to some random lady. But the dream didn't forget him: I vividly recall that he was still around all throughout this part of the dream, even though he does nothing else.

So. OC reveals herself and tells BadKellan that what she's doing is very dangerous. She tells her about the Dimir (the guild, not the random guy) and says that if they see her poorly sneaking around and think she's going to be trouble, or even can't figure out what her deal is, they're just going to kill her. Which means it's incredibly dangerous for her to go around like that.

BadKellan reveals a few things about herself. She's from Earth - yes, our real world. She's not a planeswalker. She was brought to Ravnica against her will and told to blend in and pretend to be a local. She doesn't feel comfortable revealing who told her to do that.

OC decides to give BadKellan a few pointers on how to lay low on Ravnica. She explains that she would dress mostly in gray, since colours are strongly associated with the guilds and she should stay away from them to stop making waves. She asks her to change her outift and she'll say if it draws attention.

BadKellan changes clothes. She's now dressed entirely in gray, which is good, except that her shirt

HAS A LARGE, GLITTERING PRINT ACROSS THE FRONT READING

girl

IT'S THE EXACT SAME THING AS BEFORE. IT'S A LARGE PRINT USING OFF-PLANE SCRIPT. It's not as large as the jersey number, sure, but I'd like to remind you that it's glittering!

OC is apparently as taken aback by this as I am, because she turns her into a squirrel.

In fact, she specifically turns her into the squirrel from Bloomburrow key art.

OC's logic is that BadKellan is so bad at blending in that this is the only way she can be safe. OC intends to release "squirrel girl" in a park while she tries to look into exactly whose plans she just ruined and how bad of an idea it was.

There was more to this dream, but my memories are fuzzy and it's (even more) uninteresting. I think it involves the Boros having a special currency that they gain when they help people but the Dimir also use it in a kind of ironic way? I don't remember.

#magic the gathering #ravnica #dimir #dream #yeah no idea but I need to share

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brightgoat · 8 months

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Hey hi! I’ve been an avid follower of yours for awhile for your Pucci art but, this green child au has me hooked more and more lately! Your art is stunning by the way, thank you for posting!! The final metamorphosis panel has me excited for the next installment you share ngl.

Anyways, I was wondering if I could ask a few things about it? Specifically, what has happened after O-moon came into the picture, and the buildup to part 13 and 14? Of course if you wish to keep things vague or don’t know, there’s no need to answer! I’m just curious.

When did Jotaro get alerted to the incident and decided to finally come around? Did he encounter Pucci first or Jolyne? After the revelations that O-moon revealed to Jolyne, how did her perceptions of her father and Pucci shift? Did Jolyne ever figure out what Pucci was most likely about to do to FF while they were cornered by him? Have you thought about how Weather Report factors into this AU at all (since he’s probably in prison at this point)?

Sorry for the bombardment, and again no pressure to answer these if you don’t wish to!

- Kimera

Greetings! Thank you very much for the compliment, hope the payoff to that comic was satisfying haha

So, I wanna keep things vague with this AU, telling the main story beats through images and short comics- not only cuz I like it that way but also cuz... I haven't decided a lot of the details hahaha-

Answering this via lore dump, hope you like reading, this can be just one of many ways it could've happened:

I imagined that while Pucci and Jolyne were out getting souls, Jotaro was studying whatever is left of Dio's followers, and eventually tracks down Pucci, and travels to the US. Perhaps he finds out Pucci has been tutoring Jolyne from Jolyne's mum (who knows maybe they reconnected).

Oh and yes, Jolyne's mum knows abt Pucci, but of course not who he really is.

During this, Jolyne has awakened the Green Baby and fused with it. Jotaro may even sense that something is wrong through their family psychic bond thing.

Jotaro, realizing Pucci is a step ahead of him by already taking in his own daughter, tracks Pucci down to the church and confronts him there, sparing no time and going straight to beating answers out of him, where's Jolyne, what happened to her, what's your plan etc.

I had this thought, that once Jolyne fuses with the green baby, she inherits a bit of Dio's knowledge, and it helps her realise she's been getting used by Pucci all along. Not only that, she inherits the will to go to Heaven, and it drives her to complete the plan, she's strung along by fate now.

Now obviously she feels betrayed by Pucci, but still sympathetic to him, and rescues him from Jotaro. She's conflicted, she's angry, the only reason both Pucci and Jotaro reached out was because of some bigger-than-her plot, and not because of herself. She doesn't know how much of what Pucci gave her was genuine or because of her use to him.

(had this idea for a scene that right after Jolyne rescues Pucci, all three of them are still in church and Pucci realises she's transformed, he yells for her to stay still so he can get Whitesnake to take whatever's inside her out, but as soon as Whitesnake reaches out, a hand bursts out, he thinks it's Stone Free and suddenly JUMPSCARE O-Moon jumps out at him and the reversed-gravity throws everyone away from her-)

The only friend she has left is FF, and yes she finds out what Pucci did to them, furthering her anger. So she drags FF along with her, they are eachothers' only allies here, and although FF doesn't fully understand what's happening to Jolyne, they'll stay by her side (cue the uhhhh 'oh jolyne gave me so many memories and memories make up my intellect so i owe her yadda yadda-')

Aaaaand as for Weather, yeah mf's still in prison lmao I haven't thought too much about him. I wanted this to focus on Jolyne and Pucci, though if I did turn this AU into an entire actual story, Weather would probably come up at some point. God knows how though lmao-

#green child au

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causenessus · 3 months

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YAY CONGRATS ON 1k!! you totally deserve it and your work is phenomenal and i can’t wait to see what else you make <3

for the event.. could i get a fluff 📚 fic w/ kuroo where the reader helps him find a book as a library aid??

see you again. | kuroo t.

kuroo x f!reader

written in 3rd pov

one word prompt from 1k followers event: 📚 -> library

"my heart's on mars, kinda hard to see, but you know i'll see you again <3" from when will i see you again by shakka (DOES NOT fit the vibes at all i mean kind of in my delusional brain but i just like the song and it fits the title <3)

word count: 1.9k words

notes: lots of fluff!! kuroo being down bad for the reader upon first meeting her, reader also being down bad. kuroo being a nerd bc man could be sexy or flirt to save his life <3 bokuto being the real star of this entire follower event apparently who knows how many more fics he's gonna make it into. also this was really fun to write bc little lore drop but one year in high school i once got kicked out of a class (very convoluted thing, they thought the class was triggering me which was lowkey a fair statement) so i got to be a library aide instead <333 i'm going to say this is not edited bc i don't want to deal with my mistakes or take responsibility for them. THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST WYR!! I LOVE YOU SM <3 I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC

although she enjoyed the solace of re-shelving books on her own, she enjoyed helping others just as much. it was like getting snippets of people’s lives through the books they were in search of. sometimes students came in looking for books for classes, which allowed her to meddle a little into just how many majors her school really offered, and how niche they could be. others came in looking for books to pass the time and she was always happy to recommend one of her favorites if they were open to suggestions.

while some of the other aides were there because they saw the job as an easy, quick way to make some extra money, she took pleasure in her job. when lost students came up to the counter asking for help locating a book, most of the aides felt that they had done their job well when they gave the student some kind of cryptic number and last name to scour the shelves for in return. however, numbers revealed nothing of where a single book could be in a large room piled with books that lined and stuffed every shelf and corner they could fit into.

she often took it upon herself to go on a search with the students who came to her for help. she’d consult the system for where a book was located and then lead the student to where the book was located rather than just sending them on their way. sometimes it took a few minutes to find what they were looking for, but they always found it in the end.

asking someone to wander around a university’s library and expecting them to know where a book labeled “796.31 dearing” was located was the equivalent to asking them to find a needle in a haystack. she didn’t expect anyone to know where a book was right off the bat; that was her job, and she was happy to help.

kuroo always dreaded going to the library. he dreaded everything about it. he loathed having to be quiet, aware of every noise he made, every rustle of his pant legs brushing against each other, and he hated trying to find the single book he was looking for amongst thousands of others. sometimes he felt like he'd be better off pirating a pdf version of a book off the internet, but it never appealed to him as much as a physical book.

over lunch with bokuto one day, he had rubbed a hand down his face and groaned at the thought of even stepping foot into the library, “i have to get a book for one of my social science classes, but do you know how hard they make it to find any kind of science book?”

“you should ask for y/n!” bokuto responded with a mouth full of food, “she’s really nice, she actually walked with me to help find the book i was looking for.”

“you went to the library to get a book? i would’ve expected you to just sparknote it,” kuroo teased with a sleazy grin.

his friend huffed, crossing his arms, “you should have more faith in me! i did read the book, but... it was because my professor had already caught me using sparknotes and said she’d fail me if she caught me using it again...” he trailed off and kuroo laughed.

“i think you just proved your own point wrong, buddy,” he rested his hand in his palm, looking down at the table they were sitting at. “you said her name’s y/n? what’s she look like?”

“mm, i don’t remember,” bokuto said, after a thoughtful pause, “she’s probably wearing a nametag, though. or just ask for y/n! someone will direct you to her.”

“that’s weird, man. what am i supposed to tell her when she questions why i specifically asked for her?” he responded with a sigh.

“just tell her i sent you! she knows me pretty well now, she won’t mind,” the dual hair colored boy shrugged before shoving more food into his mouth, “it’s that or search on your own for your book, but i’d say just find y/n, she can help.”

bokuto had a way of making everything seem like it would turn out fine, but all that confidence left him the moment he walked through the library doors. all he knew was he was on the lookout for a girl; nothing about what she looked like, just her name.

he could pretend to be cool and suave from afar, but when it came to actual interactions, he was never the best at maintaining his composure. he always talked too fast, or would regrettably talk more than was acceptable by his standards.

he settled for trying to find the book himself first. it was some kind of book about behavior, by a last name he thought sounded slightly like a serial killer. if he couldn’t even remember the author’s name, he was helpless. was it even worth trying to find someone to help him? or would he just make a fool of himself trying to describe the book he was looking for?

but he needed to find this book tonight, he knew that. he’d already put off reading it for long enough, and his deadline was coming up. knowing his grade was at risk, he defeatedly dragged his feet to the foot counter. it was impossible for him to casually stand there, looking at people’s name tags, and a girl at a computer was already looking at him, waiting patiently for him to tell her what he needed.

“uh–” he started off, trying to keep his voice low, “is y/n working tonight?”

the girl’s eyebrows knitted together, and he was distracted by the way her lips pursed before he tried to focus on her eyes instead, “that’s me. did you need something?”

perhaps it was luckier that he had found her on his first try rather than walking around like an idiot looking for a mysterious girl, but he couldn’t help worrying about how this interaction was already off to a bad start. he couldn’t believe bokuto could ever forget a face like hers when he was sure it’d be stuck in his head for weeks. “yeah, i’m looking for a book…?” he cringed at his own words. what else would he be here for? she only raised her brows, waiting for him to continue. “it’s um, a book on behaviorism i think. i’m majoring in sports management and i need this book for a social sciences class but i don’t remember what it’s called.”

his honesty made the corner of her lips lift, and he found himself staring again. she had to be wearing lipstick; there was no way her lips could be that red. “behaviorism? and you don’t remember what the book is called? what about the author?”

he shook his head. did he tell her his analogy? he’d already made a stupid first impression, “i don’t remember what his name was, but it sort of sounded like…”

“like a serial killer?” she finished, eyes flicking up to his own.

his own brows raised in surprise, “yeah, how did you know?”

she laughed softly at his remark, “i took a psychology class. it’s how i remembered his name too. i called him beef skinner, but his name’s b.f. skinner.” he found his own lips turning up, and they shared a smile before she cleared her throat, turning back to her screen. he watched her fingers fly across the keyboard under her hands before she turned her monitor screen around so he could see it. “does this cover look familiar? maybe by the title?”

it was a simple cover, dark blue with a tri-colored atom at the bottom. the title was written in bold capital letters: Science and Human Behavior. it clicked with him as he read the title and he could only nod, dumbfounded as she returned the screen back to its normal position.

“that’s exactly it. you’re like a genius, i can’t believe you found it based on three basic words,” he complimented, watching as she stood up, dusting off her pencil skirt.

he felt a puff of pride in his chest, seeing the way she smiled at his words. “it’s my job,” she laughed again, “i think i had someone else come in looking for it a few days ago. too. call it good timing. your book should be somewhere in the 300s, i’ll lead you there.”

she waved a hand, motioning for him to follow as she came around the side of the counter and he was quick to follow. they walked along the aisles, her head tilting up ever so often to look up at the number plates adorning each shelf. “if you don’t mind me asking, how did you know my name?” she asked, turning back to him.

he fell into step walking alongside her as he hummed in thought, “i had a friend that mentioned you. i always get lost coming here and i was telling him about it and he said i should try to find you because you’re really nice.”

“aw,” she commented with a small smile as they turned down an aisle, “that was sweet of him to say. i’m glad i could help.”

their conversation went silent as they continued walking, and he found himself tugging at the collar of his sweater nervously. “he was right,” he mumbled.

“what was that?” she looked at him again, and he inhaled sharply again, looking into her eyes.

“nothing. i mean—i was just saying my friend was right. you’re very nice,” he spoke quickly, averting his eyes towards the floor. this was what he’d meant when he said he always talked too much; he really needed to learn to keep his thoughts in.

but when she laughed at his compliment, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to make a fool of himself if he could hear her voice again. “thank you, i’m glad to hear that. what was your name, again?” she asked, a blush dusting her cheeks. she couldn’t believe she was letting a boy’s words affect her in such a way when she didn’t even know his name.

he was thinking the same thing; how had telling her his name completely slipped his mind? “kuroo,” he said, stopping when she stopped, crouching to run her fingers along the spines of a row of books close to the ground. “my name’s kuroo tetsuro.”

“well, kuroo,” she said, standing back up and looking at him with that smile of hers. paired with the sound of his name on her tongue, he felt like he was going to pass out. “it was nice to meet you. and here’s your book. maybe i’ll see you again?”

“definitely,” he said too quickly, but it was worth it to watch her nose scrunch as she laughed, “i’ll definitely come back, it what meant. um, not just to see you. well— actually— it’d be kind of nice if maybe we saw each other again. maybe over dinner? could i get your number?”

“yes,” she answered, and when she bit her lip, trying to stop the way her smile had grew, he felt like he was standing in front of angel, “to all of that. meet me back at the counter?”

"okay," he breathed, watching her walk off, her hands grabbing fists full of her skirt. maybe the library wasn't as bad as he thought, after all.

#kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #tetsuro kuroo #tetsurou kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo drabble #haiykuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabble #hq #hq x reader #fluff #ness' 1k followers event <3

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sfehvn · 11 months

Text

intruder part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Description: A year has since came and went following Astarion's ascension ritual. He is no longer himself, but then... Where is he? A/N: This part is a lot of lore-building so no actual Astarion appearances but I hope it's enjoyable all the same! Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,820 Characters: Characters: ascended!Astarion x Tav

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The forest of Emerald Grove manifests around you. Thick trees and rocky precipices grace your views, abruptly causing a wistful awareness to settle into your mind. The odd situation you were currently in aside, you never dreamed you would yearn to return to such a time. Memories flooded your head. Your very first encounter with the man who had so gracefully held a knife to your throat out of fear and turmoil. The very first time you had welcomed him with open arms and a profound desire between these very trees. Despite the rockiness your relationship had survived through at the time, you remember how heartbroken you felt when Astarion revealed his true motives of gaining security out of you through bedding you. At the leading edge, though, you recall his admission of falling for you.

“How-” You struggle to find the words as you turn to stare at the man who had approached you in the Elfsong Tavern, “What are you doing?”

Your query was disregarded as the man spoke, “You wish for your lover to be restored.” It was a matter-of-fact statement, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile. “Ah, but you have said lover.” The man pointed his words.

Alarm bells rang through your skull. You took a moment to survey your surroundings and breathe in the familiar fresh air, glancing at the shimmering moon. Were you actually here? Or was this all an illusion? You let your eyes falter back to the man whose name you still had no clue of. “How do you know this?” No good could come from this particular situation, you knew. “Why are we here?” Your intimidation ultimately failed, causing your voice to crack and waver.

“My apologies. I can take us somewhere more suited to your tastes. Where would you prefer?” His hand raised, and with a quick snap of his fingers, you are transported to the Last Light Inn. It is empty and void of life. “Or would you choose not to stray too far from home?” Another snap, and you’re back on the streets of Baldur’s Gate, the dead city a stark contrast from your walk to the tavern. “Where is comfortable for you, dear?”

You close your eyes tightly for a moment before reopening them. You knew better than to entertain this man; the last time you had made good with someone who miraculously appeared before you with offers of fixed problems, it had not worked out for you or Astarion. While eager for some sort of answer to your dire questions, for a fix of the situation at hand, the red flags rang. You had never told this man your problems, yet here he was, claiming it to be destiny bringing the two together to fix them. “I am not interested. Return me to the tavern at once.” It was a demand.

“As you wish.” His smile is sly as he brings his hand up once more, transporting you two back to your previous spots seated at the table in Elfsong. This time, not a soul resides in the tavern. You take note that the barkeep, Alan, was also gone.

“Where is everyone?” In bewilderment, you look back at the strange man.

“The apparitions are a bit much to maintain for long. Suppose if that makes you comfortable, though. It shall be done.” Another snap, and the small, jovial crowd is back once more. Alan is back behind the bar, shining glasses, a grin large enough to make you uneasy stretched onto his lips.

“What is this?” The defeat was thick in your cadence. You return your anguished glare to the man. You scanned him for a break in facade, but there was none. He just- well, he looked like any other man you may have come across. Looks could be deceiving; a lesson learned many times.

“You can provide me with something I want.” His response was quick, with no hesitation. “In turn, I will return your lover to you. As he was before.” Your brows furrowed in indignation. While your entire body screamed at you to take the deal, no questions asked, trepidation stopped you from responding too hungrily.

“I will be making no deals with devils. I’ve come to understand it could never end well for the one who is not the devil.” Despite this man seeming to be your only option with the watchful eye of Astarion on you at what feels like all times, you couldn’t risk making the situation any worse. Could it get much worse? Your subconscious nagged. “Besides, I would still like to know how you’ve found me.”

The man let out a howl of laughter, throwing his head back in amusement. “I am no devil, Tav.” He shifts forward, hands clasped before him and coming to rest on the table. “Though I can understand it may be hard to discern given our meeting. However, I did not have much opportunity for a natural one since you are under lock and key at all times.” You recall the trance-like state in which you left the palace and come to realize it must have been every bit a trance. “I am but a humble sorcerer. As for how I found you, well, it seems we share a common enemy. Though, I could feel your heartache dimensions away.” His head quirks, and it feels as if he is boring into your very soul.

Unprompted, the man continues. “Your lover, Astarion, opened himself up to the very demons that reside in the hells during his ascension ritual. Now, stay with me because this is going to get complicated.” He glances around the room before snapping the apparitions away. You hadn’t even realized how disfigured the residents in the tavern had become. “I hope you don’t mind. As I said, the apparitions can be daunting.” He clears his throat.

“Are you insinuating a demon resides within Astarion’s body? Demons are physical beings.” You dig your mind for anything you may have heard about demonic possessions, but none come to mind. Sure, you’ve seen your fair share of ghost possessions among mortals, but this was not what was being implied. A demon could impose a sort of mind control, but the soul would still be active and aware. Not pushed deep into the darkness of its own body. The demon must also be present for such a thing to occur.

“Precisely. Demons are physical beings, but are you familiar with the apothecary swindlers that reside in the hells?” A slow shake of your head urges the sorcerer to continue. “This covenant has made enough gold to fill all of the pockets of Faerûn with their scheming. A truly unfounded market, I’ll give them that.” He chortles lightly before continuing, “Anyhow, they slay these demons, extract, and capture their very essence to be repurposed as a medicine for all ailments. Most folks are smart enough to steer clear, but you will always have your bold noblemen and ladies who strive for the power and fame that these apothecaries promise.”

“So Astarion-” You start but are cut off.

“Your lover did not seek these services, no.” He states quickly. “This is where things get a bit tricky. These very regular people oftentimes do not end up with precisely what they’ve paid for. The essence of these demons seeks power, a vessel in which they can reign in a new physical form and physically rebuild themselves. The process is slow; it can take centuries for this transformation to occur. Most mortal bodies will not even make it to see this through, as the demon residing within them does not grant the vessel immortality.”

“But an ascended vampire…” You trail, the dots connecting in your mind.

“An ascension ritual such as the one Astarion partook is exactly the thing to send the dinner bells ringing to a demon’s essence.” The man confirms. “The most plausible explanation is one had been freed from its confinements and made its way into your lover’s body. After a few hundred years, his form will take on the one of the demon who controls his vessel- erm, body.” He corrected after your pointed glare was received.

“What exactly do you get out of this?” You ask quickly, the suspicion in your voice evident.

“While I would love to say I’m doing this solely to save your and your lover’s tortured souls, that would be a blatant lie.” There is the faintest pause in his words. “The demon Elralluun rules his body. In his prime, he was known for brutalizing hundreds of villages. Would kill men, women, and children all the same.” You sense a deep tinge of sorrow masked in the man’s words and decide you won’t pry further. “I’ve thought him dead until recently. I felt him. The heat of rage and hatred lit afire in my bones. One that left my being the second he was slain. I felt it all.”

You nod numbly in understanding. “How do we free Astarion?”

There’s silence as you watch the man find the words to say. “To destroy the vessel is to free the soul.”

“Absolutely not.” You snapped, heart sinking to your toes. You could never kill Astarion knowing he was still in there somewhere.

“Tav, think this over. He will be gone anyway once the transformation has taken hold. I understand this is a tough decision, but his sacrifice may even save him from total damnation. This is the only way. I do not have the power to defeat him. You do. You are a hero, through and through.” The man’s words struck your chest, causing you to gulp in a large, unneeded breath. Tears pooled in your eyes and you feverishly wiped at them, standing from your seat.

“Well, find another way.” Your voice was raised, eyes shooting daggers into the still-sitting man.

“There is no other way.” Each word was emphasized, with a look of empathy but seriousness on his features. “Think this through. I will find you again soon, and you can give me your answer then. You may come to see this to be the most merciful outcome for you and your companion.” He stands from his seated position, giving you one last look of sympathy before departing the Tavern.

Disoriented, you raise your head from the oak desk, acting as a pillow for your rest. You couldn’t discern if the encounter had happened in reality or not as you shifted your head to see the tower of books beside you, exactly where you had left them before making your exit from the manor. You were back in the library. A note scrawled in careful penmanship sat on the desk that had not been there before.

‘I will continue to search for an alternative. I will return in seven days time for an answer regardless. I trust you will make the right choice.

Leif’

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #ascended!astarion x tav #ascended!astarion x reader #ascended astarion #astarion #bg3 #x reader #x tav #tav

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otakuworks · 2 years

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❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | FINALE | wc. 5.1K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' | overview. this webtoon follows the story of a woman who somehow can remember all her past lives.

sum. there's always a factor chaining you from falling in love, usually you can never be bothered, but with Zhongli in your life you may have to pin down the source of your hesitation and possibly unlock new secrets from the consultant

cw. spoilers for the recent 3.4 update and intended inaccuracy of the lore

note. tumblr is so high it auto posted this on January💀💀

main m.list genshin.mlist

PART I < PART II < PART III (finale)

Strange, Zhongli really is the epitome of an oddity. You don't know if he was previously a magician or he simply knows how to make Mora appear out of thin air. Either way, you get freebie whenever he accompanies you in your untimely stroll

Though every freebie means a reward for saving his ass from getting scammed. The amount of times he hands off Mora to a person, who clearly has insidious motives, without second thought pales in comparison to the age of the late Archon.

You thought being friends with Hu Tao has taught him something, but clearly he's an airhead at heart when it comes to money.

Then came a particular day when you and Zhongli stroll in the streets of Liyue, you both passby a travelling storyteller who's halfway of retelling the tale of the lone warrior who sacrificed their life to save a Goddess.

". . .they were heavily guarded and fought neither for the Seven Seats nor to survive. Lady Guizhong also wrote in her tale that they were buried somewhere in the Guili Plains to commemorate the Lone Warrior's good deeds."

Eons of living can grant you insurmountable patience and restraint from spitting unfiltered comments that a person may take umbrage, you thoroughly believed you've mastered those skills long ago, if you slip a crack then you'd almost be an oxymoron.

"Bullcrap."

. . .You are a moron, after all.

You gained an immediate reaction from the consultant beside you who perched an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued.

You cough between your fist, "I don't intend to vilify Liyue's folklore, but that was straight up flawed."

Coming out as a bumptious person is the last thing you want now that you've gotten a new ally, but they were talking about you, more precisely about your past life as a swordsman.

Who knows someone better than themselves? And for Achon's sake why do they have to dub you as the Lone Warrior? Ugh, now you can sympathize what Diluc feels being called Darknight Hero. Yes, you know about his alter ego, can't fool a master disguiser.

"Why do you believe otherwise?"

"Huh?" When you gaze up at him, you saw the same intensity in his eyes when you first met him as he reiterated the question.

"O-Oh. . . sorry, I just didn't expect you to be open-minded when I literally called a famous Liyue story bullcrap."

The corners of his lips tugged up in a curious smile, "Let's assume we share the same thoughts, and I want to hear yours."

You didn't understand what he meant but his compelling voice made you speak your innermost knowledge of history without a shred of a doubt, "Most content of the tale is accurate since it was written by the Goddess herself, from the description of their appearance, their background, and deeds before the spark of the Archon war, it's all veridical. However, the part where the Warrior is buried somewhere in the Guili Plains is what makes it erroneous."

"How so?" Zhongli queried almost immediately when you paused for a second to construct the proper words without offending the anyone who opposed your opinions.

"First and foremost, the Lone Warrior was never buried in the first place, for their body was nowhere to be found amongst the corpse of the warpath. Instead of saying they were buried, Lady Guizhong built a stone slab in the Guili Plains to commemorate the Warrior however, due to the circumstances of the Karmic Dept, the slab is most likely destroyed from the uncontrolled rampage of a Yaksha."

As far as you can reckon, the Yaksha who destroyed the slab must have died feeling guilty for eradicating the one memoir of the Lone Warrior. At that time, it was all a speculation from you who knows what the Yaksha must be feeling, but now all of it don't matter.

Saving Guizhong is a choice you've never regretted, Morax felt happy and contented in her presence, it's enough to suffice everything. A simple stone slab won't change your standpoint, even without one you'd gladly do it for the second time.

"What about you, Zhongli? You said we. . ."

Your voice slowly fades away with the wind to carry out amongst the trees and may Barbatos hears this conversation to let him know he had found his Y/N.

He had always imagine what sort of interaction happens between two bards, given the fact you've once told him you play the lyre when you were a child, he's eager to see you in action.

"Hmm, as I thought, we do share commonity in the matter."

That piqued your interest, "Pray tell."

You've never met anyone who's well versed in history like you do.

"I also believe the Lone Warrior never had their deserved burial, but Guizhong made it possible to tell the tale of the mortal who made saved her life. While I personally think they're righteous, it still baffles me why would they sacrifice themselves for someone they're not well acquainted with."

You awkwardly laugh at his astute observation, feeling the perspiration forming on your forehead. Historians often ask the same inquiry; why did they save Guizhong? The tale itself didn't hold any answer for that, and a handful of Liyue citizens doubt the honor of the Lone Warrior because of this— Zhongli is one of them.

"Regardless of their intention, the Lone Warrior has my respect, for their sacrifice has led for another woman's salvation, it is nothing to be easily disregarded." Zhongli added, taking a few steps ahead.

"I've noticed how you accolade the people of the past, especially their noble hearts and their contribution to Liyue. It almost sounds like it's what you do to your. . . umm, deceased loved ones."

His eyes bleaked, for a moment you thought you crossed a line, but he spoke in a solemn voice, "I have actually, I've lost so many good people over the years, but I've learned to move on and look back in the past with a smile."

Yeah, you definitely crossed a line just there.

Your eyes find purchase on your shoes, "You're a strong man, Zhongli. I can only imagine how you managed to do that. Is that one of the factors you decided to become a consultant?"

He seemed to hesitate to answer, as if contemplating his thoughts first, ". . .I wouldn't say it's a defining factor, but yes."

"Do you ever look back to your loved ones without. . . hurting as much as it did on the first time?"

"It's a good thing to remember someone who meant a lot to you, but if the memory of that person is making you suffer, you need to let them go. You might feel guilty at first, but after a while you'll be able to think of them again without hurting nor feeling guilty."

Just then, a fierce wind struck and swept through their bodies. The dry leaves that hung from the branches rustled loudly as moonlight illuminated. Zhongli, who silently looked towards the clamoring branches, murmured in a low voice only for your ears.

"Do not rush yourself to move on, everyone has different pace. It might take you years or decades, even centuries and I'll still be with you, so do not worry about going through this alone."

Did you hear that? It's the sound of your heart thundering.

Before you know it, you were giggling to yourself.

Your laughter bubbles up from between your lips like a clear spring, unrestrained peals of genuine amusement. The sound is so mellifluous, he almost can’t find it in him to comprehend that it came at his expense. It makes him feel special.

"It makes me think how old you really are, you sound like you've been living for thousands of years." You jested. "You're not wrong." He promptly followed. What...? That must've been a joke, eh?

"You sure do know how to do your job. I felt better after hearing that. Thank you, Zhongli."

One moment you were facing him, the next you're suddenly squashed against his chest as he cages you in his arms protectively. Not a good position to be in when your heart began to pump rapidly as his scent rubbed on you.

You were about to ask him what was the matter when you heard an audible and heavy thump behind you followed by a burst of the Geo element. Zhongli looked down on you.

"I apologize for my action, but your life was on the line, so I acted out of instinct." Yet he doesn't make any indication to let you go any time sooner, his hold on you only tightens.

You hid your flushed cheeks by coughing, "I'm not made out of glass, I can handle myself perfectly fine." Yet you didn't move from where you are and held onto his clothes.

"Correct, a few slimes are no big deal, but I can't take any compromises when it's comes to you, Y/N."

"I-If you have time to flirt then just get on with the slimes." You demanded with a huff. You should've seen how he had looked like a lost puppy, "But I wasn't flirting with you, I'm merely expressing my thoughts regarding about you."

"That's even worse!" You exclaim, having no courage to look at him.

That night felt like some distant memory, some dream too far for him to grasp. He thought of your eyes, shimmering in the light of the moon, of your laugh, loud and joyous.

He could picture you perfectly, the warm orange of the lanterns lighting half of your face while the cool light of the moon illuminating the other side.

And it's not a secret he's enamored with you. Even Xiao can deduce the subtle smile everytime your name is mentioned. He hasn't seen an ardor look on him for hundreds of years, it felt anomalous to see him blush like a teenager.

The Traveler and the floating emergency food didn't seem to mind the two, but Paimon has been really curious about it.

If Zhongli likes you then can't he just straight up confess that in your face? Life would've been so simple if people are straightforward🙄

Rough representation;

There's no concrete answer for it yet, liking Zhongli more than what you two are amidst the process of your healing would seem like he's taken you out of pity.

You don't want that type of relationship. You opt to sort yourself before consulting your mixed feelings you have with the consultant.

And by that literally means;

"You want to accompany the traveler in Jueyun Karst?" You responded with a resigned sigh.

Each day spent with him only shows a fraction of how ridiculous you probably sound to a youthful man.

Everyone in Liyue knows no mortal can get in Jueyun Karst, even if they did there would be no merit to achieve unless you're seeking for a beautiful view of the clouds.

"Yes, the adepti Ganyu had gone missing for days, the traveler asked me if I know the shortest way to Jueyun Karst, and I proposed to be their guide."

Lies.

The traveler is capable of navigating their way to Jueyun Karst.

In fact, they already left this morning and it's noon as you speak.

You only used that excuse to skedaddle your way out of the dilemma you got yourself into. You need the cortisol to die down. And that won't happen if the said dilemma is with you (e.t. Zhongli)

"Hmm. . . so, you've been in Liyue before yet you still accepted my offer to give you a tour." His statement gives off an accusatory tone, but his lopsided grin tells you otherwise.

You shot him a sheepish smile. "How can I let the opportunity of conversing with a handsome man go to waste? There's a reason why I'm an adventurer, Zhongli."

He shakes his head, "How long you'll be away?"

"Not that long, I'd say only a few hours. Why? Are you going to miss me?"

You only meant it as a joke, you didn't think he'd take it seriously.

"Yes."

You see, this is the reason why you want to avoid him.

Hah! In the end, you found yourself winded up somewhere in Yujing Terrace. You heard Glaze Lillies bloom in this area, it reminded you of My. Tianheng where a field of Glaze Lillies can be found everywhere.

"Another flower is blooming, such a beautiful sight, if only life can be as beautiful as these Glaze Lillies." You nearly yelp at the sudden voice speaking near your ear and reeled back.

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry if I had scared you." An aged lady with her gray hair tucked in a low bun spoke. "I'm fine. . ."

"Call me Madame Ping. You look quite familiar to me, child. Are you perhaps the adventurer the Wangsheng consultant was talking about?" You crane your neck at her question.

"U-Uh. . . if you're talking about Y/N L/N then yes, that would be me. May I ask what made you so certain it's me?"

"Ah! He hasn't stopped talking about you since he visited this place. That man is so stoic looking, but when he hears your name it looks like he's a different man all of a sudden."

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply through your nose in any attempt to bring your nerves down. You had heard those words on multiple occasions— that Zhongli was different around you, that he cared for you like he cared for no one else. There had been a few times where that statement rang true. Some that don't.

Zhongli felt like a breath of fresh air, a sunshine on a cloudy day, a tall mountain summit from afar. You loved the way he listens to your beliefs, you loved the way he trusts you with his secrets and experiences, you loved the way he deeply cares to others, you love the way he seemed to brighten up every room he walked into.

Goddamn you love everything about that man!

Even his stupidity to pecuniary is lovable.

Somehow he managed to bring joy to the same place you always associated with agony— every corner of the place was happier with him around.

It's no wonder you feel something that can only be named as infatuation— a feeling you once harbored towards Morax, but failed to realize it until your death.

But that had been so long ago, back when you were a little kid determined to become an adult. Now you're an adventurer with a thousand adventures under your belt. Now you were strong and experienced and prepared. And yet, you're still hesitating. Why?

"What seems to cause your inner turmoil, child?"

Your breath hitched and your intake became shallow, it feels like being reborn again. An advantageous thing about reincarnation is that you get to experience love in many forms, mainly familial love.

It was your gateway from the gripping anxiety you feel whenever you overhear hearsay in your town about Morax.

But not once did a family ever asked you for your problems, it's not their fault being unaware of your curse and if they did ask you would've probably non the wiser— it was because they don't share the same sentiment having to live for thousand years.

With Madame Ping, you feel so inclined to relay your thoughts as if you're indeed a child ranting problems with your mom, something about her just puts your mind at ease. And you only just met her not too long ago.

You took a deep breath and tore your gaze from the Glaze Lillies, "There's this man that I fostered feelings for, since I started liking him. . . I always felt like I'm standing over burning charcoal. Do you know what that feels like? Not being able to stop my feet from moving even for a moment. I can't run. I want to, but there's something holding me back."

"Hmm, that sounds too complex," she sighs, "then again, being young has many complexities just as we adults have. With the way you're describing it, I won't say it's holding you back, child."

You lifted your gaze at her, confusion now painted your features.

"If I were to put it, you're simply tangled up in your past."

"W-What—"

"And you need closure if you want to face your feelings head on."

A closure? Is that what I'm missing? Should I vent my pent up feelings? Ugh. . . Will that really help?

Sensing your dubious demeanor, Madame Ping smiled, "You do not need to heed my words. I'm simply offering a suggestion."

"No, I'll consider it. In fact, I think it's the best course to deal with this. Thank you, Madame Ping!"

And so you dash from the place in search of something.

You run pass the vast greenery of viridescent grasses and colorful wildflowers— a meadow, where you'd usually go for meandering while accompanied by the evening breeze or gilding sunlight. It was perfect setting of tranquility for a maladaptive daydreamer like yourself. You'd imagine yourself laying down and naming the constellations that coincidentally appear in the sky, or count the exotic birds that flew by, or hum a tune that's been lost in history.

Looking at you now versus your past self equates for hypocrisy.

An amalgamation of both morose and agitated countenance now marred your features. Any person who sees you would imagine how tumultuous your life has been, it's nowhere near nirvana.

Trembling as you arrived at your destination, you stand in front of Morax's statue and traces the meticulous handwork with the pads of your fingers. The entire place feels like him, as though you’re with him at arms reach, but too far to actually hold him.

"It's really pathetic how I try so hard to move on, only to come back to you when something is amiss in my life," you murmured, "but I'm not here to endlessly whine about every misfortune in life, I want to release this feeling in order for me to be appeased."

You heaved a deep breath.

"I love you, Morax. I still do. No amount of flowery apologies can fix the damage I made for stalling my confession to you. I was young and had a plethora of uncertainties that made me second-guess myself. I guess. . . the guilt of leaving you pushed me to the brink of watching over you throughout my consecutive reincarnations, I wanted to make sure you were happy. And now, I want to be happy too. I feel happy with Zhongli and I don't want to make the same mistake of hesitating then later regret on it."

Some days your sadness was a mild lisp. It barely scratched the surface of your voice, but today melancholy had waged a full scale assault on your vocal chords.

"I've decided I'll confess to him, not today, I still need to build the courage to face him. I'm thankful for the time we spent our earliest days together, truly I am, but it's time for me to move on. One day I will look back on our childhood and say 'I love you' once more without the lingering ache in my heart. I'll never stop coming back to you, Morax. . . so, instead of bidding farewell, I'll see you later."

It felt good to vent your feelings out that you nearly cried that day as you walk back in Wangshu Inn and now you're ready to confess your feelings to the consultant whenever you're ready. And whether he'll accept it or not is entirely up to him.

"Are you free this , Y/N?" A strange look obscured the consultant's face, what's even more strange is the fact he's not even looking you directly.

"Yes. . .?" Something tells you he's not in a good mood.

Crap. . . someone give him Mora! ASAP!

"I wish to speak with you alone. Will you come with me in Mt. Tianheng?" Asked the consultant who seemed a bit on edge this evening after you came back. His spurious stone cold expression obnubilated akin to the look of a man who's gearing up for war.

His ominous mien warranted your logic to say no to him, but you're too far on the line of sanity to even refuse the man you like. "Sure."

>> TIMESKIP. . .

You thought not confessing early to Morax before your death was the worst decision you've ever made. Think again, 'cuz this is most definitely the worst, baddest and stupidest decision ever.

You never made it a point to come back to this place— it brought back a storm of memories, some of which were more comfortable being shoved to the recesses of your mind and be kept there for eternity. But for whatever reason, you feel inclined to follow him and disregard the uneasiness of returning in Mt. Tianheng.

Zhongli has been strangely quiet all the way here, at this point he'd be randomly stating facts, not be a complete mute-walking pillar.

Thus, you suck up your inner turmoil and deal with it instead of fleeing right off the bat.

"You're strong for keeping your head up this far." He accolades suddenly to particularly no one, except if he was referring to you.

"Me?"

He comes to an abrupt stop and finally, FINALLY faces you. And shit do his visage screams he's not playing around. He's not here to be buddy-buddy with you. He looks genuinely distress.

About what though?

. . .

. . . . .

. . . . . . .

Oh. . .

Oh no!

Did he see through your lies earlier? That you're supposed to be with the traveler in Jueyun Karst? Double shit! Not good!

A thin sheen of sweat accumulated on your forehead as you try to come up with an excuse, "U-Uh. . ." but came up with nothing.

You mentally prepared yourself for a parade of admonishing words from Zhongli, you genuinely thought he's going to nitpick on why you shouldn't have lied to him and probably question the motives behind your action. At least that's what you thought.

"This guilt is unbearable even for an immortal."

"Yes, I know I lied about going with the traveler in—. . . Huh?"

What?

His eyes seemed to shine brighter than the stars as he stares deeply into yours. You sense an underlying promise in those determined orbs, it instilled the feeling of anticipation and anxiety.

"I am Morax."

The air suddenly became suffocating for YOU. Breathing gets hard. There’s this feeling in your chest that’s gnawing through your body, affecting your every movement.

Conflagrated flames and scalding ice, the physical feeling tied up in all the emotions that seem to leak from ZHONGLI'S features— fear, hope and adoration churned his guts.

An unkempt strand of your hair overshadowed your eyes from Zhongli's standpoint. It seems as though he made the decision that'll compromise the friendship he had built with you.

Being the bearer of the knowledge of your reincarnation didn't come easy for an immortal who's supposed to be imposing as a mortal.

Ever since he saw you paying respect for his passing, his instinct is blaring at him to tell you his true identity. Though he has to admit it's not entirely his gut-feel that added a major factor of what he had done now— it was his selfishness, yet again.

He had gone through multiple scenarios of what your reaction may be; Would you laugh at his face? Are you going to dismiss his claims and think it's a prank? Will you run away from him?

Not like it matters to him.

You can do all of those and he'd still want to be with you.

Heck! He knew you were telling a fib about your involvement in the Traveler's quest and it didn't change his feelings for you.

". . ."

As crickets filled his ears, he takes a feeble step forward and spoke in a solemm voice, "You must have a lot of questions, I can guarantee to answer all of them but know that it was never my intention to prolong your suffering by hiding my identity."

He knows.

He GODDAMN knows!

Your words broke up and all you could mutter were stuttering sounds. Hot tears streamed down your face, and squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the tears would stop. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time as stand there unmoving. What else is there to say?

Before you know it, both of your shoulders were grasped in a firm but gentle grip of gloved hands. There's so many mixed feelings stirring in a boiling pot, and you can't make out a definite conclusion until you arrive in some sort of resulting point.

Are you angry for his decision to play dead? Betrayed he kept this from you? Pained that he didn't trust you? Relieved that he's really alive in the flesh? Happy that he knows it's you and you don't have to pretend around him? Which is it?

Amidst all the chaotic thoughts, you still feel safe in the presence of Zhongli— Yes, Zhongli. You hate how it feels so warm, you hate how you want to bask in his embrace, you hate the solace you find yourself in when he's around even in your worst time. Just then, similarly back in Inazuma, the sky shed tears to empathize your mourning heart. The heavens really find your suffering amusing.

In your haze vision, he was moving his lips but the words fell on deaf ears, your sense of hearing refuse to comprehend the meaning behind his statement. It's probably for the best.

Zhongli, the ever so keen who promptly took notice, snaked his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in a somber embrace and gently placed your head in his chest— an act of shielding you from the dangers of the world and offers you a safe haven.

The veil dropped and walls crumbled.

Your feeble hands grasped his flaunting waistcoat like a helping hand. Your scream synchronises with the thundering and the minimum space between you muffled the cries. Your undecipherable emotions echoes with the storm like a reflection on the mirror.

And everything leads to the man desperately clinging to your bare fingers on the cliffside of a bottomless pit you dug yourself into.

"Look at me."

Compelled to do so, you lifted your blurry gaze. A Geo Archon known for his wisdom and strength, is standing in his barest version. The version of a man who weeps only in the presence of whom he loves and trusts.

[ source: Pinterest. please comment if you know the artist so I can credit ]

"Z-Zhongli. . ."

A single index finger met your quivering lips, "Shh. . . The rain isn't stemmed from sadness. So get drenched, and be refreshed. I hope it washes away the hot bitterness felt by your heart. When that hurt washes away, let's return home together."

". . . Together? It sounds surreal. . . I don't want to believe it."

"May I kiss you for proof?"

You're too absorbed in the heat of moment that every rational decision flew out the window, but maybe the most rational thing to do is to indulge yourself.

You nodded, with your permission Zhongli has never been the happiest till this day.

His lips descended on yours with fervor, immediately you can feel his desperation, his love, his determination, his grief— it's overwhelming it almost knocked you on your feet. Quite fortunate he has his hand on your back to keep you steady while the other is on your cheek as he drowns you in his presence.

You feel hot, it's unusual during the rain shower, but the hypnotic intimacy he applies in his action takes your breath away.

Heat pooled in your stomach, the prospect of kissing Zhongli is something you didn't know you'd be craving for more and your heart skipped a few beats.

Your whole body tingled, the feel of his towering frame leaning on you as he encased you in his arms felt like you're ascending to Celestia.

Albeit slowly, you felt yourself gradually being pulled up to the surface accompanied by the hands of your savior.

It still wasn't clear if he's dreaming this moment, but there was raw emotion in the way you weave your fingers through his free tresses and caress his scalp. Zhongli kept his eyes half open, sneaking a guilty glance at you every time he comes back for air to assure himself this isn't a product of his imagination.

He doubts the authenticity of it all. He's not sure if nature rooted for this moment or if Celestia tricked him into this perfect present to appease his guilt, but every passing second makes him want to stay in this illusion and for the first time in eons, he felt like a little dragon discovering new treasures— he discovered you yet again.

Slowly, the pull apart, chest heaving and face flustered.

Zhongli suddenly felt more guilt, he had acted out of the line and kissed without properly courting you, not so gentlemanly. The smile on your face, however, eased the guilt in his heart and subconsciously mirrored your smile, it was simply contagious.

"It's really you, huh? I can't believe I didn't realize it was you." You placed your palm on his cheek as to reassure your sanity, in response he leaned impossibly closer to your hand.

"Words cannot describe how much I want to expose myself to you, and how apologetic I am for staging my death. Had I've been aware of your existence and your knowledge of the past, I would have come up a different solution and not cause you more pain."

Yeah, it really is him. No other man can look after your feelings like he does, and there's no other man lovable as him.

"I really want to ask how did you know, not only of my reincarnation, but also my awareness of my previous life. Is it because you were a former Archon?"

Heaving a deep sigh, he pressed his forehead on yours, his fingers traverse down the corner of your lips until it wipes away from what it looks like the remnants of your tears.

"I don't need to be an Archon to know it's you. Your kindness, compassion and everything beautiful will always attract me no matter what form you may take. No other being can impersonate someone so precious as you, Y/N. It's why I knew it was you the moment you wear your heart on your sleeve."

Times like this always reminds you why you fell for him so hard.

"As for your memories of the past. . . you weren't exactly being cautious of your words when you were speaking to my statue. No normal mortal has ever called me Morax other than you."

Oh. . . you were rather grateful for it.

"So, you're saying I'm not normal to you?"

"Y/N, reincarnating while retaining your memories is not exactly a trait of a standard normal mortal." He does have a point.

"Hey, look. The rain has stopped."

Hands adorned of scars, bruises and wounds that once grasped the pointed end of every sharp edged rocks are now held by the calloused hands of another fighter.

You watch as the lustrous moon rose up the sky, pride was balm from its full fledged form, exuding sufficient fulguration for the inky night and the prodigious number of stars turned into extraordinary bright white hued after the rain. For the first time, the deepest somber night just came out of its humble abode.

He kept his eyes on you and his forehead glued on yours, it looks like he's not planning on letting you go any time sooner, "Indeed, it seems like your heart has eased up too."

"Yes, and I have you thank for that." You gently grabbed the wrist caressing your face and rubbed figures of eight. "Thank you for having the courage of revealing your true self, it have me the right to courage to fess up what's on my mind."

You pulled away from his embrace and took his hand on yours, you can feel his burning eyes fixated on your actions, "I never got the chance to confess everything when I was dying in your arms. I thought it was for the best, but I'll say it now."

Watching you straighten your spine, Zhongli couldn't hide his anticipation. He has vague idea what you mean, but he didn't want to keep his hopes up, so he remained calm and let you continue.

"I love you. Whether you're known as Morax, Rex Lapis, Zhongli or any other names, I'm hopelessly in love with you because to me you're the dragon who kept me safe from the dangers and prioritize me over your own happiness. You're my first friend, my first confidant, my first partner in crime, my first protector, my first crush and most importantly, you're my first love. You're my every first, and you'll be my very last."

Every joyful feeling known to man hit Zhongli like a meteor and he couldn't help himself to claim your lips once again. This time he was more gentler and more on conveying his overjoyed expression. The kiss was brief as he pulled away immediately.

"I have always adored you, Y/N. Your death nor your lack of reciprocation doesn't make my feelings any different. Do you remember the promise I made? I will take you at the highest peak of the sky, I meant it literally that time, I'm more willing to fulfill that promise both literally and figuratively.bI'm grateful to have met you in my life, and I'm more grateful that you feel the same as I do. I will do my best to keep you happy, Y/N."

"Dummy! I should be the one saying that." Your eyes began to feel moisture yet again. "Would you look at us. It took us a couple thousands of years before getting to this point, it's almost laughable and I— ACHOO!"

". . ."

"Let's head back. It almost slip my mind humans are quite fragile even just a few drops of rain, and your drenched clothes are not helping."

"Aren't you the one who told me to get drenched and be refreshed?" You replied sardonically, though the lovesick smile on your face betrays you.

He chuckled, "Let's continue this back home."

Home with him. It sent the elephants stomping in your stomach. Forget the fluttering butterflies!

He intertwined your fingers with his as you both walk back with goofy smiles, "Yeah, let's head home."

An idyllic hilly meadow greeted your sight as you stand tall after an arduous journey. Beside you is the prize worth of every gems in the world. As your blood-soaked hand held his, the two of you embarked a new journey towards tomorrow.

And this this time, you won't be alone. Mazes may seperate you two along the way, you'll always find your way back to each other's arms. A farewell between star crossed lovers doesn't exist, for they will meet later on at the end.

─ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. werp that will wrap up this series, I'll be working on with all of your requests and if I can insert the Xiao version of this then it's considered lucky. thank you everyone for supporting this fic, for encouraging me to continue more than one part and sharing your thoughts about it. i value comments more than anything so pls tell me what you think, I don't reply to all comments but I read all of them 💙💜

─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @itsyourgirlria @shizunxie @elsoleil @cherlynono @slzaar @katsuissus @tikitsune @useless-potatho @chimsblogg @lemonlimesocks @multifandomvoyage @malt-rants-and-stuff @jameineliebe @angelkazusstuff @eissaaaa @beezgobuzzbuzz @towos @atsukawolfcat @sunflowers1970 @avery-needs-more-fics @angstylittleb1tch @bigcandlesmolbrain @lxmine @imk1ra @chihawari @bishishbored @yuuki4646 @sunsethw4 @princeabomination @alexiris @chocolateneapolitan @ayra2452008 @ittosoneandoniwife @alatus2716 @thetwinkims @sweetbills @nanami-s-tie @rain-and-a-nice-nap @a-rose-byanothername @swirrley @lasignoramybeloved @magicalnaturenerd @boundedbyfate @extremelytoastybread @vvyeislazzy @dear-dairiess @crowleysthings @imafatpug @tjjjrsj + kokomisimppp alice4wonderland2184 quereespf haru-tofuu vv3ntii and others that I can't tag for sum reason tumblr won't explain •_•

#series finale #zhongli #zhongli fic #zhongli angst #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli fluff #genshin impact angst #see you in my 19th life #webtoon #reborn au #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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lunastrophe · 24 days

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Hi! I've read a lot of your drow lore posts, and I absolutely love all the information you've provided (and the way you organize them makes my brain happy.) I know you've talked about being transgender in Drow society, but do you have any ideas on how being nonbinary would work? Acceptance, role in society, ect.? I was just curious because I'm nonbinary but I'm also getting really into Drow culture haha

Hello - thank you for visiting my drow corner and for an interesting question! 😊

🕷️ In a typical Lolth-worshipping society, I am afraid that coming out as nonbinary - or expressing any kind of gender nonconformity, really - would be dangerous for a drow character.

Structures of Underdark Lolth-sworn drow societies are pretty rigid and focused around female-male dichotomy - which is firmly rooted in teachings of the church of Lolth. Drow whose gender identity does not fit this dichotomy are typically seen as a danger to the fundamental values of Lolth-sworn society.

A nonbinary drow would probably have two basic options: to live in the closet, with their assigned gender determining how they are perceived and referred to - or to leave. Seeking open acceptance would not end well, I suppose, especially for a drow who is closely connected to some noble house or to Lolth's clergy.

For a non-noble drow, things would probably be easier. Without a row of house priestesses, siblings and matron mother watching their every move, they would probably be able to act more freely. They might find, for example, a gender neutral profession - maybe one that requires them to travel a lot and spend time among other, more accepting people.

Still, trying to be openly nonbinary Lolth-sworn drow among other Lolth-sworn drow would be very dangerous.

🕷️ In drow societies where the main deity is Vhaeraun, I suppose that a nonbinary drow would have next to zero problems with being accepted.

Some followers of Vhaeraun heavily promote patriarchy and dominance of drow males, though, especially in power structures.

So, it is probably easy to imagine that, for example, a nonbinary drow with a very feminine look and style of dress might confuse some Vhaeraunans - at least initially. Some of them (mainly males) might be quick to label such an individual 'female' and stubbornly insist to treat them like one, or approach them with a measure of distrust.

In such case, becoming a cleric of Vhaeraun might also be a problem. Church of Vhaeraun sometimes advertises itself as "egalitarian", but... yeah, in practice, distribution of power is typically heavily tilted there in favour of male drow.

Still, I cannot really imagine Vhaeraunans (in general) persecuting a nonbinary drow for the sole fact of being nonbinary. Vhaeraunan societies are fairly accepting, as long as you are not working against them and you do not worship Lolth.

🕷️A drow society where Ghaunadaur is worshipped - I suppose that a nonbinary drow who is chaotic, evil and maybe also more or less insane, would feel good there. Good characters, not so much.

Ghaunadaur is not a nice deity (chaos, sacrifices, madness, crawling creatures, alien intelligence - Lovecraftian vibes, sort of), but has an affinity for everything that is primordial, not defined and not clearly shaped.

I think that nonbinary, chaotic evil drow, especially outcasts, might be attracted to his cult - they might perceive Ghaunadaur as a fitting alternative to Lolth or other established Underdark deities popular among drow. To Ghaunadaur, male-female dichotomy is totally irrelevant.

🕷️Eilistraeans would have no problem with nonbinary drow - they would be treated just like any other person. Followers of Eilistraee might be also ready to offer help to a drow who became an outcast because of coming out as nonbinary.

A good (in terms of alignment) nonbinary drow might be attracted to the cult of Eilistraee, especially since for Eilistraeans, male-female dichotomy is not overly important - they generally promote equality and harmony, and they are always glad to welcome new followers, no matter their gender identity.

Whew, I hope I managed to include all relevant aspects 🙂Hope you will find this post useful!

#drow #drow lore #dnd lore #lolth sworn drow #seldarine drow #eilistraee #vhaeraun #dnd drow

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aspiring-writer-hidden-voice · 1 year

Text

Result of the DB/Z/Super Poll:

Tie for first place:

DBS Beerus x f!reader

“You don’t say?” Bulma’s eyebrows furrowed with interest as Jaco brandished a holographic flyer. “And this pop star is taking the galaxy by storm through music? Sorry, that doesn’t seem really like our kind of thing.”

The Galaxy Patrolman scoffed, acting wounded while taking back the device. “That right there shows that you have no idea! She’s dubbed Goddess of Music for a reason and you are just too thick to realize why.”

“Come again?” She growled menacingly with steadily growing embers within her gaze.

“I’m just saying that if you of all people on Earth haven’t the slightest understanding that having her grace this planet with a performance is heavenly then you clearly do not wish to know that I’ve heard rumors she’s looking for a place to lay low for a while.”

Rumbling earned their curious gazes to rise in time to spot a dust storm worthy of classic writing lore a moment before nearly being billowed by the wind following a figure who appeared from its core with golden eyes wide and ears standing at attention, a slim tail lashing behind them. Purple-gray hued skin, not a single strand of hair to be seen, large ears and manicured paws for hands, the God of Destruction himself was barely recognizable courtesy of the glimmering stars threatening to give away the hidden emotions swirling within. “Run that by me once again, little man.”

Amused, Bulma couldn’t help but poke light fun when spotting Whis appearing a moment later with several bowls of whipped parfaits wearing a shocked expression. “Oh, there you are. I forgot you were hanging around somewhere nearby.” One of the suspended bowls slipped underneath Beerus’ nose and earned their raised brows when he paid it no mind. “Okay, spill it. For you to ignore food means that something is special about this girl.”

“You just don’t know the music of Calliope and even if you heard it I doubt you’d appreciate it.” Jaco’s hands rose when noticing a certain glare from the feared entity, beginning to sweat profusely. “A-all I’ve heard is that she may be taking a break from tour and is currently in search of somewhere to recuperate! One of the guys at work knows someone who knows someone—”

“Get to the point.”

“—from the sounds of it she’s expressed an interest in Earth but she isn’t sure if this corner of the cosmos is ready for her music!”

Almost in the same manner of a rocket, the mighty God of Destruction appeared inches from Jaco’s face. “Tell me you’re not joking or I swear I’ll destroy you now.”

“It’s the truth! I swear it on my life and I would never lie to Bul—I mean to you!”

Tension hung heavily in the air as the slanted golden eyes bore into the small patrolman until he straightened stiffer than a ruler. “If what you are saying is true, and I’m not saying I believe you, then there is much work to be done.”

Bulma shared a questioning look with Whis who looked just as lost as the Earthling woman.

….

Golden eyes narrowed with disgust while regarding the stage. “Wrong, it’s all wrong. Start again.”

A unified exclamation rose from the people who had been working diligently since appointed beneath his guidance. “That makes seven redesigns in the last four days!”

“Well, then, make it eight and stop wasting my time by doing it right the first time I asked!” Beerus snapped, visibly deflating while settling into a nearby chair resting beneath its umbrella. “I can hear your condescending snickers from here, Whis, so you better shut up before I destroy you along with those ingrates.”

Beside him appeared a tall fair blue skinned individual who cooed softly to the rich chocolate desert within his hold. “Forgive me, my lord, I did not mean offense.” Between his lips disappeared the spoon laced with thick fudge, powdered sugar, tart cherry, and fluffy cake that earned his bright smile and wiggle of the spine. “Oh, Almighty, this is truly divine!” He momentarily grew serious when no interest was shown by the God of Destruction. They’ve come to know each other very well in the past several centuries, he boasted to practically know the cat-like deity better than a dragon its own scales, however these last few days have been truly interesting to behold. As if something had come over the once stoic, cold, indifferent being. The desert was placed off to the side, with regret, before he fixed his gaze upon Beerus. “Come now, is it truly worth getting all excited over something so silly?” If he noticed the sudden heavy pressure within the air Whis chose to ignore it. “That musician was looking for a place to relax, not put on a show. Wouldn’t it be rude to shove something like this into her face and practically demand a performance when she’s utterly exhausted from traveling or worse?” So sooner had his words faded to silence did the chair become vacant. “My lord?”

Wordlessly, he stalked towards the incomplete stage as the workers quickly retreated upon seeing his approaching form. They were left speechless and highly frustrated when with a tap of a claw the entire structure was rendered to piles of ash. “What are you fools going on about now? I just saved you several more days of complaining so show a little gratitude.” Beerus fixed each in turn with narrowed eyes. “Or perhaps you wished to be entombed within your failed production.”

Both of his ears perked when telltale pings sounded from the scepter his Angel used.

Whis, taken by surprise, stood and peered into the sphere. “Would you look at that, an unmarked ship is approaching Earth as we speak.”

Disappointment permeated the air as Beerus returned to his seat. “Don’t get my hopes up like that.” Swiping the desert, he began eating with vigor and gusto worthy of a God of Feast rather than a God of Destruction.

“Would you like another?” A soft voice came from the side, earning Whis’ pout before it turned into a grin as several similar dishes were placed carefully across the table. You cast a smile, and a wink, from over your shoulder when Beerus took a moment to take in your appearance. “I made those specifically for you by my own hands so I can’t wait to hear how you like them.”

Almost too faintly for you to hear came a unified gasp from the pair before near identical croons of happiness.

Bulma brightened when you stepped into the kitchen, hands clasping your own. “You’re truly a lifesaver, seriously. When our chef that they’ve attached to became ill I wasn’t sure what I was going to do! Then dad said you were looking for work and had recommended you for the position! I hope they weren’t too rude.”

“Trust me when I say I’ve encountered much worse.” You grinned brightly. “It’s nice to be doing something like this with my hands. I better get back to work though to make sure our guests stay satisfied.”

“Too true,” the blue haired genius waved while walking towards the entrance, “but be sure to take as many breaks as you need!”

“Will do!”

It wasn’t until the door closed with a hiss that you released a sigh of relief. A pair of headphones were procured as if from thin air that you secured upon your head and faint notes of music could be heard as you went about the kitchen. What should you make this time?

….

Alarms blared wildly as Bulma sat upright in bed, blinking wildly when spotting her Saiyan husband by the window staring down as flashing lights. “What’s going on?! Is it the media again?” Her arms crossed. “What did you do?”

“Quiet, woman, I’m trying to listen.” His narrowed eyes slanted farther. “Appears that the authorities who wear blue are preventing someone from entering.”

A glance at the clock earned her groan before swinging her legs over the bed’s side. “It’s four in the morning, it’s probably (Y/n) trying to come to work. Guess dad forgot to add her to the directory.”

“Don’t move.”

“And why the hell not?”

Vegeta’s lip curled. “Your interference is not needed since they have turned from detaining to entertained.”

Blinking, she crossed the room to peer out of the window alongside her Prince and felt her jaw hit the floor before a face breaking grin lifted her lips.

….

“How were those deserts?” You asked with a smile, clearing away the dirty platters and dishes to place them upon the cart you’d brought. “I hope they were to your liking.”

“Truly amazing, my compliments to the baker!” Whis hummed.

Beerus made to ignore your question if not for the nudge of a food. Clearing his throat, his golden gaze met yours, earning a warm ember to nestle within your gut. “They were perfectly adequate and acceptable.”

No sting of disappointment came at his words, only appreciation, earning his blink of shock when you genuinely smiled instead of withered beneath his gaze. “I’ll make the next ones even better, you just wait! I want to hear from your own lips that my food is delicious. Then I’ll share with you my super-delicious-ultra-special desert.”

“Perhaps you should make it instead of hyping it up.” A smirk appeared upon his face. “Why boast when you can flaunt?”

Whis’ lips parted to reprimand the God of Destruction’s jab but they pursed, eyes widening, when you cocked a hip and lowered your face to be inches away from the deity.

“And when was the last time you made anything with those hands, hm?” There was no mistaking the challenge within your tone as a slow blooming smirk raised your lips the longer silence filled the air.

With a huff, he turned his head. “I’ve done things with these hands you couldn’t scarcely imagine, human, so I suggest you mosey on back to the kitchen for our next course. Besides, I am a God of Destruction not of confections.”

A bell was struck, ringing clearly through the air as the surrounding outer backyard that belonged to the Brief family.

“Thanks for joining me! We can start off easy with a simple meringue.” You clapped your hands, internally relishing when Whis smirked at the scepter he quickly hid when anger filled golden eyes locked upon him. The outside had vanished to be replaced by the all too familiar kitchen you’ve come to call home.

“What the hell are you playing at?!”

“Lord, would you mind cracking a few eggs?”

The glare was fixated upon you as a carton passed from your hands to sit before him. For a moment you surmised that he would still fight but for some reason, after his gaze meeting yours, he picked up one of the fragile shelled items. It almost immediately shattered between his claws. This earned his great displeasure once noticing a certain Angel suppressing a chuckle.

“No worries,” you soothed, placing another within his hand, “let’s try again.”

“Treating me like a child will earn you my wrath if you’re not careful, human,” he growled lowly. Despite his own words, Beerus indeed handled the egg with a bit more care as you showcased how he should rightfully crack.

Yolk and whites were separated with each egg he successfully freed from its shell. Sugar was added to the whites, which were made into fluffy clouds courtesy of a handheld whisk procured from a drawer. It was then that you revealed a pretzel pie crust that had been cooling in the refrigerator along with a bowl of previously prepared cream cheese. Both Destroyer and his Angel watched with fascination as you helped them to fold the meringue into the mixture, farther earning their wide eyed expressions when you lightly smacked reaching purple-gray hued fingers.

“Ah-ah, no snitching until its done.” A dollop of whipped cream appeared upon Beerus’ nose. “You can munch on that until I say its done. If you’d like, you can pick what toppings should go with it.”

Upon his forehead appeared a growingly frustrated tick mark while Whis happily disappeared into the nearby pantry. Surely this female knew just what he was capable of and to not irk him farther. His assumption was completely thrown out the window when you took a moment to fix him with a serious expression. The need to snap and question you was stifled when noticing something that made him pause. “That earring. It looks familiar.” Beerus eased himself closer, eyes narrowing to get a better look at the lone piece of jewelry you wore.

Panic made your heart begin to pound harder as his breath wafted your face. “O-oh, this? It used to be a necklace but the chain broke and thought that—”

“It suits you.”

Shock and awe filled you at his tone of sincerity. Did he, the God of Destruction, just compliment you? “Thank you very much,” you managed once he retreated far enough for you to breathe fresh air, “that’s kind of you to say.”

“I simply can’t decide! Lord Beerus, shall we go with sweet or savory?”

Like a glow stick, the fragile atmosphere cracked audibly when the deity huffed. Though that did make an idea come to him when you hurried to help the Angel carry in possible options. “I think we should be a bit adventurous and try something combining both. What do you say with including chunky salt and a sauce?”

“I like where this is going.” You smiled, searching the cabinets until brandishing a sea salt shaker then selecting both caramel and white chocolate chips. The entirety of your attention fixated upon the pair when they voiced doubtful objections, your gaze meeting gold. “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question. In the many years of being in his position, Beerus had never hears such an inquiry made of him. Such things meant little to beings such as himself because it was unnecessary. Yet the way you were looking at him, with those eyes and the unique air about you, set his mind, possibly very soul, at ease. “I suppose I can indulge you. Yes, for now, I shall.” Deep within his being something warmed as your cheeks lightly dusted pink.

“I promise to not betray it.”

And he believed you.

….

A frustrated growl filled the air when Destructor and Angel returned to their original seats beneath a large umbrella. “Seriously? Why do I have to wait two hours?” Beerus scowled, nostrils flaring slightly while stretching then settling. “What a bore. Just what are we supposed to do to pass the time?”

“And just where have the two of you been?”

He didn’t have to open his eyes which had closed. “None of your business, Bulma, move along.” Indignation filled him when a finger swiped across his skin, fangs shining brightly as he revealed them with a venomous hiss. “How dare you!”

Bulma blinked while inspecting the residue upon her skin. “Is that powdered sugar?”

“And what business is it of yours?”

“We were helping a certain young female create a desert within the kitchen not too long ago. Now we simply have to find some way of entertaining ourselves until its ready.” Whis’ bottom lip protruded in a pout. “I’m simply dying to taste it but I’ll hold out because of her assurances it would be to die for!”

Blinking, the blue haired woman blanked then brightened. “Oh, you’re talking about (Y/n), right?” Bulma bit her lip as Beerus confessed to not asking for your name. This was almost too good! “Well I have some good and bad news for you.”

Both sat upright with stiff spines, eyes widened once she finished speaking. “What do you mean she left?! What about our desert?!”

“Something came up for her and she had no choice—”

“Find her now.” Beerus’ growl earned their partial amusement when he failed to notice a figure who appeared from behind.

The tap of your finger upon his shoulder earned a sideways glare before it melted into something akin to admiration. Gone were your rudimentary clothes to be replaced by spectacular clothes that swayed with each movement of your body. There was no denying that he instantly knew who you really were. “I’ve been looking for you both. I should’ve known to start here first.” A decorated container was procured with a wave of your hand that slipped itself into his hold. “I hope you’re satisfied with tasting something you’ve made with the people you care for most. Cooking is one of my fave pastimes and I had a lot of fun! Let’s be sure to do this again sometime!”

Incomplete words leapt from between his quivering lips as you pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

“Be sure to take good care of Earth, okay? I definitely want to come back the next time I need to recharge!” With a wave and bow, you disappeared in a flurry of sparkles.

Bulma and Whis failed to contain their grins when the God of Destruction practically melted into a puddle with an equally goofy smile. How odd to see such a being as himself in such a state. Their amusement, however, was short lived as he carefully placed the desert upon the chair he’d vacated then faced the two of them with steadily growing malice.

“How long have you two known that she was Calliope this entire time?”

#dragon ball super #dragon ball super x y/n #dragon ball super x f!reader #dragon ball super x you #dragon ball super Beerus #beerus x reader #beerus x f!reader #beerus x y/n #beerus the destructor #reader is goddess of music #beerus x goddess!reader #beerus the god of destruction x goddess!reader

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aldryrththerainbowheart · 14 days

Text

Chapter 2 - Rooftop Randezvous

Note: Woohoo another chapter. Sorry it took me so long to update I did a lot of editing Because I wanted it to be perfect. This one has a bit calmer pace and you get a lot of reader lore. Do you like dramatic backstories? Of course you do!

Tags: @thinkingofausername @multifandomedsimp @heavysighing-dreamyeyes

Warnings: mentions of suicide and murder

Chapter 1

The snow smudged the city into an abstract vision filled with colors of neon signs and billboards permeating through the building darkness. The last rays of pale sun peeked through shredded clouds before disappearing under the horizon. Soon, headlights will light up the sky and no doubt a bat symbol will appear somewhere among them.

A harsh wind whipped past the rooftops of many residential buildings in the area. A lonely, imposing figure stood atop one of them, unflinching in the face of the cold gale except for the ruffling of the chopped black hair.

Again and again, Jason replayed his interaction with Joker. No doubt the last he’ll ever have. Not because he finally put a bullet right in between the ingrate's eyes, but because the clown was dying. Jason didn’t know the cause, but it was apparent from the moment he grabbed the Clown by the throat and threw him on the ground. His face was practically rotting away, his body curled up and twitching like possessed.

The Clown was stupid for approaching him, now that Jason was more than capable of repaying tenfold what he did to him. However, with the information he was given, it was better to focus all his attention and power on his true goal - killing Batman. The whoreson will go down even if it’s the last thing he’ll do. And now, with the aid of Deathstroke, he’s closer than ever. Joker no doubt thought that with the information he gave him about Batman, he would let him go easily. He thought wrong. The only reason Jason fucked him up only above the point of death was because he wanted the man to die slowly, painfully, in agony. He’s not going to give the bastard the luxury of quick death.

He still replays in his head the words that fell from Clown’s toothless, torn, blood-soaked mouth before he knocked him down.

I have high hopes for your plans for Batman and Gotham, my boy…

He doesn’t know shit about his plans. He’s not some other run-of-the-mill idiot who gets thrown into Arkham by the end of the week. He’s more than a possible threat. Jason will end this once and for all. There won’t be stone overturned once he’s done with the city.

A loud meowing snapped him out of his thoughts. Jason turned his head towards the source of the sound and found an old mangy black cat standing on the railway of the fire escape. He hadn’t moved an inch as it jumped down and walked toward him. It peeked up at him with one green eye with expectation. Jason only raised a brow at that. Soon, more meowing followed. He looked around and noticed many more cats climbing up the rooftop from every dark corner.

Hairs stood up at the nape of his neck in paranoia. Where the hell did all these strays came from, and why?

Jason got his answer when he heard the clicking of the roof door.

“I know, I know. I’m late with the dinner. Something came up.”

He recognized that voice. He tried to remember where from as he watched all the cats running towards its owner. Their back was turned to him as they crouched down to distribute cat food to Gotham’s hungry strays.

Strays…

The person finally stood up and turned to him. Freezing in place.

“Oh! Uh…hello?”

Now he remembers. Even if only the bottom part of your face and your eyes were uncovered, he knew it was you back then. What are the odds of bumping into you? He wonders if you remember him. If you’d even recognize him, after the asylum and Venezuela and now, with Arkham City in motion. He changed a lot since then.

You nervously trample on the spot. Waiting for a bit before sidestepping closer to him. You’re calm but vigilant. Good. You have every right to be nervous in his presence. He’d be seriously concerned about your sanity if you weren’t. Jason is very much aware of the effect he has on other people nowadays.

You came to stand next to him, overlooking the city just as he did a moment ago. Jason takes it as an opportunity to study your profile. For the first time since escaping the asylum, he wondered what kind of a person you are. For Jason, there are only two categories. Enemies and temporary allies to reach his goal. However, you are neither, and he doesn’t know what to think of you.

“Are you going to just stare at me or you’ll say something?”

You give him a quick side glance before turning your eyes back on the cityscape. Jason doesn’t mind that he’s been caught staring but he is not as socially inept as not to realize he still hasn’t said a single thing to you.

He clears his throat, “The city’s not safe. It’s getting more dangerous by the day.” Jason made sure his voice is more gravelly to distance himself from that pathetic little boy you met in Arkham.

“What about you?”

He shrugs, “I can take care of myself.”

“What makes you think I don’t?”

You turned to him fully this time. Even took a step towards him and looked him dead in the eyes. A clear challenge in your stance and tone. He almost chuckled. Jason likes your guts. Even though your head barely reached his breastbone and he’s sure he can fully circle your waist with his hands.

He’s not sure where these thoughts came from, but now he has become even more aware of your… physicality.

“You think that because you’re bigger, stronger…” You look him up and down and Jason feels heat wherever your eyes travel, “that I won’t be able to kick your ass?”

He meets your eyes, taking in every feature of your face.

“I’m sure you can doll.”

Oh, he hopes you’d put up a good fight. He’s almost tempted to find out right then and there. But as much as he finds the prospect of sparring with you thrilling, he’s not in the mood today. His mood sours at the memory of Joker’s words. Jason feels his shoulders sagging as he leans against the roof's edge.

Still turned towards him, you put your elbow on the railing and tilt your head in curiosity.

“Rough night?”

He hums in noncommittally, not privy to talk about the details.

You pause for a moment, before aiming at the subject from a different angle.

“You know, people usually come here to clear their heads. When you’re this high it’s like you’re miles away from people…and your problems.”

Jason glances at you.

“Is that why you came here?”

You chuckle, “Yeah. That, and to feed these hungry meowing mouths.” You leaned down to pick one small tabby. As you hold the cat closer and pet it, you look somewhere past him into the dark depths of the city, being lost in thought. Jay knows that feeling well. The body is here but the mind is fighting unknown demons.

“Me and my… companion are in some shady stuff. I won’t disclose the details, but it's not outright vehicular manslaughter so calm down,” You wave him off, despite Jay’s face remaining neutral the whole time. “We always made due. I knew what I was getting myself into when I joined them. When you live in Gotham, it’s either sink or swim, so I decided to swim… right into people's wallets and safes.” You grin at him. He liked your smile. It was cheeky, mischievous, and promised a good time.

“So what has so worried now?” Jason felt like offering a talking point. He didn’t want the girl to feel like she was talking to the void.

“I’m worried that this time, we’ve bitten off more than we can chew.”

Jason was truly at a loss for what to say to you. He had a hard time dealing with his problems, let alone the problems of someone else. But he could relate to the feelings of restlessness and loss of direction. It’d be a real shame if you took the brunt of Quicy’s machinations.

“Now’s your turn.”

That took Jason aback, “Huh?”

“I spilled my guts, now’s your turn.” You gave him a disarming smile, C’mon, we’ll probably never see each other again, so what’s a little shared secret between strangers, huh?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

Jason frowned and thought about it. There are many things he has to say. Many things that he couldn’t share with anybody because of his plans. But if he didn’t give out names and stripped it down to its bare essentials…

“There’s a person who wronged me, and now, I’m going to take what I’m owed.” His hatred towards Batman resurged anew. Boiling in his gut like a hot wire. He’s going to get rid of him and his replacement, and he’s going to use Batman’s techniques, gear, and all of Gotham’s criminals to do it. He was so close he could almost taste it…

You nodded but haven’t said anything to that.

“That’s not the reason why you’re here talking to me right?”

Jason winced like you’ve touched a sensitive place and you didn’t even realize it. Why did Joker’s words send him reeling? He knew Bruce betrayed him, accepted the fact, and spent a year planning his revenge. So why, why does he feel so disgruntled? Jason looked into your eyes as if the answers lie in there, but the truth is he knows the answer all along, he’s just too ashamed to admit it. Because there was still a small part of him that hoped… and now it's dead. Batman killed it. It’s all for the better though, it’ll make him focus better on his goal. It will make killing him all the sweeter.

“Guess it’s like as you said. I needed to clear my head, but now, I see things more clearly.”

There was something dark in the way he said it. You weren’t sure what the guy’s deal is but you’d wager it’s more of a deep end than you. Ironically enough, that made you realize that your problems are not that bad. He spoke of revenge. Someone hurt him, bad enough for him to stalk the streets in the late hours of the night and think about it. When he looked you in the eyes there was obsession bordering on mania. It gave you shivers.

“That’s good,” you nodded, carefully picking your next words. “Just remember that… you’re more than your pain.”

He glared at you. “What the hell does that mean?”

You shrug, focusing on the purring furball in your arms.

“When people aim for revenge, after a while, it’s all they become… Don’t ask me how I know.” You visibly winced.

Now Jason is more intrigued by you than ever. He wants to know more, needs to know more but before he has a chance to ask any further, you’re handing the cat to him. Jason in all his stupor takes the cat before he realizes what he’s doing, and now he has this small unpredictable thing in his arms.

“All I’m saying is… don’t let your past dictate your future.” You look at him with sincerity that takes him aback a little. Then you give him a small salute, and you’re gone, jumping over the rooftops.

He just stands there for a while. The cat butts its head against his chest, purring even louder.

Your words ring in his head hours later, when he’s in his safehouse, researching information about you. He hates it. There he was making up his mind and now you’ve made it a mess again. Jason spent so much time building his composure, scaring everyone who tried to find a crease in his armor. Yet here you are shaking him to his very core and what’s worse you’re not even realizing you're doing it.

His fingers danced over he keyboard as he scoured bunch of articles about your appearances in the city but unlike Catwoman, you seem to avoid public eye. He analyzed thefts in recent years that might fit your profile and also scoured public record for women of your age, height and familial bonds. If his deductions are correct, and they usually are, you started stealing few years back. One thing was bothering him. Usually, just by living their life people leave their imprint on the world, be it in the form of birth certificate, school diplomas, speeding tickets, and social media posts. But it was like the woman who called herself Stray just… appeared one day out of thin air.

He frowns at the screen of his computer, eyes running over countless data, when suddenly, his fingers freeze over the keyboard. He reads the online copy of newspaper article with a strange sense of deja vu.

Young woman found dead after she jumped to her death at…

Bullshit. People rarely jump off of residential buildings by themselves, especially in Gotham. He keeps reading. Based on the information from the paper and the blurred photo of the body, the facts don’t add up. The position of the body and the testimony of the witnesses don’t make sense. You were pushed. And if his trained eye does read the details correctly, the murderer was a son of wealthy magnate.

Jason didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he could roughly reconstruct the events thanks to years of dealing with these crimes with Batman, and its always same scenario. You were a journalist or perhaps worked for the man… maybe you were even romantically aquatinted with the son… you found out things you shouldn’t have and instead of minding your own business a stupid sense of justice or curiosity prompted you to dig further… you threatened to expose the man… his son invited you to a secluded place to talk to you and because you trusted him for whatever reason, you did just that…

His stomach twisted as he looked once more at the photo of the crime scene. Its bad. Blurred from great distance and bad angle, no doubt because the police did not allowed the press near the body, but even with its quality he could discern the limp leg hanging over the car you landed on or the sick twist of your neck. The question is… how the hell have you survived something like this??

Because there were no further traces of your presence in the media, he followed the trail of your murderers. Following months the father of the man who pushes you was elected into the senate. Press labeled him as ‘controversial’ businessman. Probably due to his connection to mafia, Jason mused with great amount of cynicism. The man didn’t stay in the office very long though.

After series of scandals and run ins with the FBI, the man had to resign from his post after his connections to the mafia were revealed to the public. How did his text messages with the local mafia boss and his illegal property deals got exposed to the public is a mystery. Just as is a mystery how his foreign accounts got leaned out.

This massive scale affair wasn’t without its victims. A journalist that investigated the mafia and was able to get his hands on information no one else did (Jason has his idea how he got it) was found dead in his apartment, he and his girlfriend were shot in the head. Another innocent victim was Anastatia Deveraux - a model and the Senators sons girlfriend. After she lost a 5 milion dollar diamond necklace at the Senators fundraiser, she was found dead in the pool of a hotel the fundraiser was at. Shockingly enough, media did cast a suspicion on the Senators son.

Whether he did kill Anastia or not will probably never be investigated, because after his father received life sentence for corruption claims he was found dead after allegedly jumping off of railing at his villa…

Jason manages too get his hands on camera footage from that day. Most of the surveillance on the building were dismantled, curious that. The remaining footage was from the neighboring building. He saw the bastard hanging off of the railing, and a figure standing above him. He magnified the camera to the max to get the better view. The image was still grainy but he could discern that the figure was distinctly female and there were two pairs of something atop her head that looked like… cat ears. He sped up the footage as the figure crouched to the struggling man. Did you slashed across the fingers desperately holding on with your claws? Or did you try to pull him up? Only you know the answer.

Jason leaned back on his chair and stared into the ceiling.

A perfect revenge.

Except for all the innocent dead.

The mortuary report noted deep, slashing wounds on the mans body akin to claw marks. It was only a matter of time before arrest warrant was issued on Catwoman and she was locked in Arkham.

So that’s how you ended up in Arkham Asylum.

Jason’ss mind buzzed with questions and possible answers. A memory of you from few hours ago standing on that rain soaked rooftop with forlorn look in your directed somewhere over the endless expanse of Gotham.

When people aim for revenge, after a while, it’s all they become…

He felt his head spin and stomach twist. No, no, no! Not when he’s that close. There can be no room for doubts or regret. He made his decision and he’s gonna follow it through godammit!!! Jason leans forward to press his elbows to his knees, fingers burying in his hair. That brought a memory of claws scraping gently against his scalp…

Which brings back the memory of your kiss. It was a crazy thing to do at that moment, but it worked. His mind, filled with maniacal laughter could only focus on the press of your soft lips against his. Your smell, the soft tickle of your hair, your breasts pressing against…

Jason shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest.

Calm down, soldier. You’re not some hormonal teenager sharing his first kiss.

To Jason’s dread, as far as he knows that might as well be his first and only kiss so far…

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