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#I remember The Feelings when I first read it
zephyrchama · 1 day
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(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again
---01
It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.
Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.
Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.
---02
Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.
He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.
He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.
---03
Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.
He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”
You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.
Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.
---04
Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.
“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”
You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.
---05
Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.
When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.
As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.
---06
Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.
One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.
It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.
---07
It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.
The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.
Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”
Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.
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gators-aid · 2 days
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decode (pt. 5) - toji f. x reader
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masterlist
part four | part six
you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.
tags: fem!reader, americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(
wc: 2.9k
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Present
“Please make your decision quickly. I think the fuckin’ cops are looking for me.” He says. His voice sounds deeper than you remembered. You thought you had imagined it in the diner, or that his change in tone was a consequence of his anger toward his brother, but there was no denying it here. You glaze over that comment about law enforcement apparently searching for him.
He was leaning slightly out the window of his truck, etching toward you so that you could hear him over the sound of the surrounding traffic. You feel Megumi tug on your jacket, so you look down at where he’s tucked in. 
You always knew he looked just like his father, your mind tormented you with that fact every waking moment, but it was hitting you now. Here you had the framework to sit and compare their faces from more than memory alone. 
Needless to say, all of the pictures you had of Toji had been destroyed after you found out he left town. All of the clothes he had given you or left in your room had been donated when you moved out of your mother’s house. You had no physical reminders of his existence aside from the child the two of you shared and the golden angel necklace that sat tucked away at the back of your dresser. It was sitting against the back of the drawer, tucked away in a pair of polka dot socks that you never wore. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of that one.
“Momma, that man is swearing.” Megumi says in his sweet voice. You grimace. Is this how you wanted your son to meet his father? In response, you rub his back and try to muster a smile. “I know, baby.” You whisper to him. “We can talk about swearing later.” Megumi had taken “Don’t say ‘fuck’, you’re only four” to mean, “anyone that swears, including adults, should be chastised.” You would have to redo that lecture. 
You really, really shouldn’t get in the truck. You should carry on with your life and pretend that all of this never happened. That Toji isn’t in the flesh in front of you, looking more handsome than you had ever remembered. Looking just like his fucking son. So much like his son that it felt like you were being taunted. He could never deny Megumi again once he saw his face. Even people who weren’t close to you could see the resemblance. 
It’s cold, you justify to yourself as you adjust Megumi in your arms and stand up from the bench. We’ll get home quicker, you think as you round the front of his truck towards the passenger side. You’ve run out of excuses by the time you’re opening the door and sliding in his truck. 
There are countless reasons why you shouldn’t have even looked up while you heard him call you. For starters, the fact that he just said law enforcement is allegedly in pursuit. He’s been back in your life for less than an hour and you’re already doing stupid shit.
What the fuck. You keep Megumi tucked into your chest tight as you sit down in the truck. Megumi is facing his father, trying to get a read on the man his mother had broken the rules for. 
“Okay baby,” You had said to Megumi merely weeks prior, “If a stranger asks you to get in the car with them, what do we say?” You ask him, holding his little hand in yours. 
“My momma said no!” He says. The two of you were sitting on your living room floor, with a blanket under you and watching The Little Mermaid on DVD. You had to save costs wherever you could, and those costs did not include cable. After watching Ariel go into Prince Eric’s palace-house within the first couple of hours being a human, you felt it appropriate to give Megumi the kidnapping talk. He takes a bite of the apple you had cut for him earlier. 
“And what if the stranger said, ‘I’ll give you Pokemon cards if you get in the car’?” You ask him. “I don’t even like Pokemon anymore!” He says proudly, in response to the hypothetical stranger. “What? Since when?” You asked, slightly horrified that you weren’t as attuned to your 4-year old’s interests as you thought. “Since the stranger asked me, momma.” He replied simply. 
This exchange must be very odd for Megumi. You had done your best to raise him right. The best that you could with the resources you had. You tried to teach him hard rules. Don’t talk to strangers, wash your hands before you eat, for the love of god please do not stick forks in the outlets. Now the ‘no strangers’ one was out of the window. It would be tough to explain this. Another lecture to redo.
Toji’s got his eyes on the rearview mirror, looking back at the diner. “Jinichi called the cops on me, the fucking asshole,” He mummers that last part to himself. “So where am I taking you?” Blunt and to the point like always. You give him your address before you could even think about it. Megumi’s tugging on you again to indicate he heard that comment, but you’re slightly out of it. 
There’s a big tear that exposes the cushion of the seat you’re on. You had left that there a lifetime ago when you drunkenly stole Toji’s knife and acted out a confrontation between you and a random girl that was hitting on him. That was one of the many nights that ended in laughter instead of tears.
 It smells exactly the same, he still uses the black ice scent for the little tree hanging from his rearview mirror. He’s still got his CD collection strapped to the sun visor on the driver’s side of the truck. It’s grown since the last time you saw it, expanding to the passenger side sun visor as well. There’s still a mysterious dark stain that you don’t feel comfortable speculating on the nature of in the floorboard. Evidently, he never managed to get it out. 
It’s too much. You have to fight to hold back tears. You had told yourself to never give an ounce to this man again. No tears, no anger, nothing. You had broken that in the diner earlier. It would not happen again.
You should have told him to take you to your mom’s house, so he wouldn’t have any kind of access to you or Megumi. Why would you give him your own address? How fucking stupid. 
It’s silent in the truck. You weren’t going to say anything, you might burst into tears if you opened your mouth. You had sat Megumi on your right side, away from Toji. He was pressed in between you in the door so that you wouldn’t have to be any closer to the man than necessary.
 You still don’t know if Toji had gotten a look at him yet. You take a moment to study the man. He’s got both hands on the steering wheel, sitting pin-straight in his seat. His eyes are very pointedly on the road, as if he’s trying not to look over. If the whites on his knuckles were indicative, and after spending years with him, you knew they were, Toji had already figured it out. 
After that call four years ago, you had a lot of time to ponder Toji’s reaction to you telling him about Megumi. Logically, you knew he was doing what he always did. Avoiding it because he didn’t wanna deal with the prospect of it. The same way he cheated on you to try and get you to run like you should have. The same way he used to pick a fight just to see if that would be your final straw. He denied Megumi because he had some weird psychological avoidance issue. 
Emotionally, you couldn’t see it as anything other than him being selfish while you gave your life to your child. Literally, that’s what it was. 
You were too busy looking at him to notice you had pulled into your apartment complex. 
“Um..” He clears his throat. “Which building do I drop you off at?” Drop you off. You scoff out loud. Of course. He finds out the kid really is his, and he’s avoiding us again. 
“The second one.” You say. You don’t know what you expected. For him to immediately pull Gumi into a hug and move in with you within the hour? Yeah fucking right. 
“Mama, can I play with the Christmas tree when we get home?” Megumi had asked you as your apartment came into view. ‘Christmas tree’ was one of his favorite games to play, where he got all the pots and pans from the cabinets and stacked them on top of each other to make a “Christmas tree.” It was a very messy game that required you to rewash all of your dishes when you were done, so it was a rule that he had to ask for permission before playing. The game had started when last year, tips were slow and you were late on your electric bill. You had already asked your mom for help that month, and refused to do it again. This, of course, meant that there was no money for a christmas tree. After Megumi’s December birthday and the one christmas present you could afford, you had to find some way to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t have a tree like the one at grandma’s house. “We have a better one.” You had told him, “One that you can play with all year long.” 
Needless to say you had cried yourself to sleep that night. 
“We’ll see, Megumi.” You say. The truck comes to a stop in front of your building, and without a word you’re grabbing Megumi out of the truck and slamming the door shut. Not a word said to Toji, not even a glance directed his way. 
It had started sprinkling rain on your drive over. This morning, your mom had called you to let you know there was a flood warning for the next city over. You usually didn’t take those entirely too seriously, waving her off when she had asked you to bring Megumi and spend the night at her house. 
The apartment is two stories tall with stairs on the outside, so you hold Megumi’s hand in yours as you slowly traverse up the stairs. He was skilled enough to walk up them on his own, but after an incident where he took a small fall down them, you were slightly paranoid. 
By the time you’re unlocking your apartment door, you notice that you hadn’t yet heard Toji’s truck pull away, so you glance back to see him still sitting there, waiting for you to get inside. For a moment, the two of you lock eyes. You can feel your heart drop as you usher Gumi in the house and close the door behind you. Don’t give him an ounce. 
You hope and pray that that is the last time you will ever have to think about Toji Fushiguro. The last time until Megumi gets old enough to realize his last name is different from yours. The last time until he asks you why all his friends in school have two parents and he only has one. The last time until he gets old enough to ask why you and his dad never made it work. Until you have to hold him as he cries and wonders why Toji never wanted him.
You let Megumi play Christmas Tree so you can lock yourself in the bathroom for a moment to compose yourself. 
By the time you get Megumi bathed, fed, and ready for bed, it’s eight at night, and the rain outside has been pouring heavily for a couple hours. Gojo had texted you to let you know that the tips had been good that day, but you had a feeling he was lying so he could slip a bit of his parent’s money into what he “owed you.” The diner was never busy on the Monday lunch shift. 
You had made spaghetti that night, a common occurrence in your home and something you were grateful Megumi hadn’t gotten tired of yet. Occasionally, you would get the kitchen guys to sneak you a meal in a togo box to offset grocery costs and eat something different every once in a while. Nanami was one of the cooler managers, which was why you were more comfortable asking that Megumi sit in the diner while you worked that day, but he was not one to let free food slide. 
The night was surprisingly peaceful once Megumi was distracted by his toys and tonight’s DVD movie, Toy Story, which Shoko had gotten him for his birthday. You were distracted by cleaning every single pot and pan you had after Megumi was done playing with them.
Once the two of you sat down for dinner, the inevitable questions came, and Megumi had asked you about the encounter with Toji earlier that night. 
“Mommy, why did those two guys at your job,” he took a breath in between his sentences and spaghetti, “start hitting each other, and then why did you got in one of their cars?”
That was a long conversation about how some brothers (you had let that slip), don’t get along, and how you had already known Toji, though you didn’t say from where or why. Thankfully, Megumi was more curious about why brothers and sisters fight than why his mother got into this random man’s truck. You would definitely have to revisit the “stranger danger” talk. 
It’s about 11 at night when you hear a booming knock at your door. It had pulled you out of your “almost-asleep” daze on the couch. You had already put Megumi to bed by then, and were taking a couple hours to yourself before you went to bed too. You prayed the sound hadn’t woken him. 
Whoever it is knocks again, this time harder and faster. Now that you have more mental capacity to process that, someone uninvited is knocking at your door at an inappropriate time of night for a single mother, you dash across your living room to grab the baseball bat you keep by the door. You’ve never had to defend yourself and your son in this capacity anymore, and suddenly the adrenaline kicks in, and you squeeze the wooden slugger to center yourself.
The only light in the room is coming from the TV, playing the play menu of Clueless on repeat. You must have been asleep longer than you thought. Hoping not to be seen through your shadow by the window, you slowly crane your neck up toward the peep-hole of your apartment door. What you see is the last thing you expected.
Of course it’s Toji. Of course he wouldn’t just leave you alone. You’re such a fucking idiot. 
For a second you contemplate on whether or not you should open the door, but when he bangs again, somehow even louder, you fear that he won’t only wake up Megumi, but the entire apartment complex.
You put the bat back down and unlock the door, pulling it open slowly so that he would only be able to see half of your body from the angle he’s positioned at. He has his hand leaning on the doorframe, and his figure is hunched over to the point he has to lift his head to look you in the eyes. When he does, you realize what this is. He’s drunk.
His eyes are bloodshot red and watery. He’s soaked from head to toe, he had clearly walked through the rain from wherever he was coming from, or stood out in it for so long that he was drenched. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand that wasn’t against the doorframe, hanging precariously from his grasp like he would drop it at any moment. You couldn’t see how much was in it from here, but you knew he had to have drank quite a bit for him to be in this state. 
It’s only when he looks you up and down that you realize you’re only in an old t-shirt and underwear. If this were anyone else, you would’ve squirmed under their gaze, maybe ran to go throw something on, but with Toji, as dumb as it sounded, you couldn’t care less. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask him.
He says nothing, just looks you up and down again and takes a shot from the bottle. 
“Did you drive here?” He nods. Well that’s not fucking good. 
You wait for him to say something, to explain why he felt entitled to knocking on your door in the middle of the night soaking wet with nothing to say. Or maybe you’re waiting for him to explain why he left you in the first place without saying a word. Maybe you’re waiting for him to explain why he never even felt the need to come check if Megumi was his. You’re waiting for a lot of explanations? But you don’t get a single one.
In a voice that can only best be described as broken, he softly slurs out, “You… you named him Megumi?”
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very... very sorry for the wait. that semester ended up kicking my ass. no excuses i am very sorry D;
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jinwoosungs · 2 days
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{ 163 }
anomaly.
jinwoo sung x isekai’d!fem.reader
{ you think your days are uneventful | and no one ever thinks about you… }
you had no rhyme or reason, not even a mere explanation, as to how this was possible.
you found yourself in the fictional world of solo leveling; a world that you adored with all your heart.
back in the real world...
you recall spending hours of your days binge reading the chapters of the manwha on your phone, falling in love with the amazing art style and the action sequences. it was embarrassing for you to admit, but in the midst of you reading the comic, you ended up developing quite the crush on the main protagonist, sung jinwoo.
of course, you were well aware of how he already had a canon love interest, but a part of you truly didn't care. when your emotions became too much for you to handle, that was when you would constantly search for any inserts pertaining to him, drowning yourself in such wonderful daydreams while saving each and every story you came across within the safety of your phone.
and when solo leveling's mobile game was announced-
you were the first to sign up for it immediately. once the game had launched globally for you to enjoy, you quickly dove into the game while doing your best to care for jinwoo. sure, there were some hiccups along the way, and you accidentally made him 'die' on some occasions, but still, you allowed your love for jinwoo to push you forward.
you spent some of your money on purchasing better items and weapons for jinwoo, slowly leveling up jinwoo in a more safe and efficient manner. and while you were simply enjoying the game, the last you you remember was working on grinding up jinwoo's level before falling asleep within the comfort of your bed-
only to find yourself in an unknown bedroom within an unfamiliar apartment. a gasp escapes from your lips when you look down at your hands, realizing that they looked... more colorful and bright-
almost as if you had been drawn and colored in.
a sudden knock heard on your door breaks you out of your thoughts, trailing your eyes to see your mother opening the door for you, "morning sweetheart, it's time to get up and go to classes!"
you were shocked to see that it was actually your mother who greets you with a sweet smile on her face. she was dressed in soft clothes consisting of a sweater and jeans with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for you to get up.
"mom, i- where are we right now?"
she frowns upon hearing your question, "what do you mean? we're in seoul, your father got promoted as a hunter and was transferred to the korean hunter's association branch, remember?"
your mind was spinning. there was no way in hell this was real! your parents were both regular office workers. you had never once seen your dad with any combative abilities-
were you dreaming?
had your daydreams pertaining to solo leveling's world made you hallucinate this much?
as if sensing your confusion and discomfort, your mother goes inside your room and settles herself on your bed, reaching out a hand to you as she brushed back your hair. "honey, are you alright?"
you swallow thickly and tried to even out your breathing. "i-i'm fine! but uhm... just to double check... do you and i have any... abilities?"
your mother shakes her head and continues to gently brush back your hair. "no, we are normal civilians, but don't worry! your father will protect us..." she meets your gaze and asks in a warm and concerned manner, "did you wish to skip classes for the day? i'm sure your professors won't mind as much, since you are a university student."
you shake your head at the offer, actually feeling quite eager to explore the world of your beloved webcomic. "no mom, it's okay! i just had a strange dream... and was a little confused, that's all."
she gives you another bright smile before leaning in to press a kiss against your hair. "alright then, i'll make some breakfast for you, and you can head out to your classes afterwards."
she finally leaves you alone then, heading back out into the kitchen as you bolted out of bed to look at your reflection in the mirror. your features remained the same, yet now that you were 'drawn' into the art style of solo leveling, you knew that you were much prettier than usual.
gone were the acne scars and blemishes, and despite your figure remaining the same, you felt quite confident in it. as you touch at your face, admiring the bright quality of your eyes, you couldn't help but sigh to yourself.
"i may look better, but i still don't think i'm a match for cha hae-in."
despite how you could feel your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation at the thought of meeting sung jinwoo someday, you knew better than to get your hopes up. after all, he must have had his second awakening already and was simply doing raids and attending meetings and conferences throughout the world (as per the plot). you knew that his romance with cha hae-in would start to blossom soon, and you didn't wish to acknowledge or even be a witness to it.
in this world, even though i love it so much and would LOVE to be a badass hunter or a healer, i'm still just a civilian.
you continue admiring yourself in the mirror with an almost wistful expression. "maybe it's a blessing that i am a civilian and jinwoo is a hunter..."
that way, i don't have to meet him; i can save myself the heartache and forever remain out of his personal orbit.
you hear your mom calling out to you to come get ready and come to eat breakfast, breaking you out of your reveries as you walked out of your bedroom with a newfound eagerness.
{ ... }
[ ANOMALY DETECTED. ]
jinwoo was simply settled within his office, looking over some reports when the system showed him a new notification. he frowns at the translucent screen, hands reaching up to tap at it.
[ ANOMALY DETECTED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO VIEW IT?
YES / NO ? ]
he could feel his eyes flash purple in response, filled to the brim with concern at the thought of a brand new threat that appeared in his world.
"yes." was his simple answer, eyes becoming glued to the screen as he waited for what the system would show him-
only to feel a bit dumbfounded upon seeing a young woman walking out of her apartment. she was dressed casually with a bag slung over her shoulder, clearly a student as she made her way to the station.
"system, what makes this woman an anomaly?" he asks it casually, waiting for yet another reply. within seconds, a new screen was seen.
[ DIFFERENT UNIVERSE. ]
this message made jinwoo's eyes go wide, his anger quickly being replaced by curiosity. "and how are you certain she's from a different universe?"
[ SHE IS AWARE THAT SHE COMES FROM A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE. SHE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO IS AWARE. SHE IS AN ANOMALY. ]
jinwoo was intrigued now, hands remaining folded against his desk as his glowing, purple eyes continue to watch the woman go on with her day.
interesting... very interesting indeed.
{ ... }
even though you were simply making your way to class, you were honestly having so much fun. even though you technically haven't been out exploring seoul before, it was like you were running on autopilot, with your legs having no issue taking you to the university you attended.
there was a strange sense of familiarity that washes over you, and it almost felt like you were a character that was meant to be within solo leveling's world-
almost.
upon arriving at your university, you greet the two girls that you assumed were meant to be your friends, joining them before and after classes as you managed to enjoy lunch with them. during your classes, you were pleasantly surprised to find that you could understand the textbooks and the professor's written notes as you copied them diligently within your own notebook.
with your classes completed later that afternoon, you decided to spend some time exploring the city, basking in the beauty of the late afternoon while enjoying the sunset. as you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk while admiring the warmth of the setting sun, your phone began to ring with an incoming call from your mother.
picking it up on the second ring, you answer, "hello? hey mom, what's up?"
"you're finished for the day, right? do you mind coming home so that you can help me prepare dinner?"
"of course. i'll see you soon. i love you, mom!"
you hear her laughter on the other end. "i love you, too. stay safe, and come home soon!"
after hanging up the call, you walk with your head held high and a bounce in your step.
even knowing the dangers that were to come-
(the monarch's invasion settled within the heart of this city)-
you held no anxiety or fear because jinwoo would ultimately take care of the war, protecting everyone and everything that lived on this earth while taking on the burden all on his own.
{ ... }
jinwoo had been watching the young woman for quite a few weeks now, and he was fascinated by her carefree and happy nature.
had those who came from a different universe always remained this happy?
even when she was simply doing mundane things like...
attending classes,
helping her mother cook,
eating dinner with her parents the moment her father came home,
and simply studying-
jinwoo couldn't look away.
it was like her finding joy with the simple things in life was like a beacon of light to him. she had an inner beauty that called out to jinwoo, and he found himself desperate to know more about her.
i should meet her soon... and place a shadow soldier on her.
he swipes away at the system's screen the moment he sees her get into bed. knowing that she had class the next day, jinwoo decides to make some time to meet her once and for all.
{ ... }
"oh my god, is that who i think it is?!" one of your friends was heard crying out to you, hanging on to your arm in a tight manner as she stops you from crossing the gate.
"hm? what are you talking about?" you ask with a yawn.
"it's him! the latest s-rank hunter, sung jinwoo!" your other friend was practically freaking out, too, eyes going wide as a dreamy expression crosses her features.
of course, how could you forget? in this world, powerful hunters were viewed and treated like celebrities. as you strained to look toward the gates, you saw that it was indeed jinwoo settled near the gates. he was dressed in his usual coat and suit with what looked like a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
strange, does cha hae-in attend this university, too?
you thought to yourself, even though you were 100% certain that she only worked as a hunter-
but why else would jinwoo be here with a bouquet of flowers?
"you guys go ahead and meet him." you slowly back away from your friends, adjusting your bag as you looked toward the other gate of your university, "i just know that he is going to have a whole group of fans flocking to him, and i don't want to be late. i made plans with my parents." you lie through your teeth before making a dash away from the gate, not even bothering to reply to your friend's protests.
you were determined to never meet with jinwoo-
after all, you didn't want to even fall any more in love with him than you already were-
especially when knowing that he had always belonged to someone else.
however, in the midst of you running away, you were unaware of a pair of glowing, purple eyes that followed your every movement.
{ ... }
she's avoiding me...
jinwoo finds himself back home, barely touching the dinner his mother had prepared for him. his chopsticks kept picking at the rice, eating it a single grain at a time while deep in thought.
"oppa, if you keep going at that pace, you'll be stuck here forever." jinah teases him between bites of her own food, "seriously, what's up with you?"
not even jinah's teasing could break him out of his intrusive thoughts, earning a concerned look from his mother. "jinah, could you give me a moment to talk to your brother?"
she rolls her eyes playfully, but ultimately listens to her, standing from her seat with her bowl of rice and side dishes in hand, giving them some privacy. unable to find his appetite, jinwoo puts down his bowl and pushes it away from him. feeling her touch as she reaches across the table toward him, his chin was suddenly being held by his mother, her own dark eyes filled with concern for him.
"what's wrong, my love?"
he swallows thickly, trying to hide how he was feeling. "nothing is wrong..."
because she was his mother, he should have known better than to lie. "you're heartbroken."
jinwoo stiffens completely when he hears her words. "n-not exactly when she... ah... she doesn't know that i exist. or rather... she doesn't even wish to acknowledge me."
his mother remains silent for a few beats before letting out a soft laughter. "well, perhaps the young lady is a bit intimidated by you, jinwoo."
he could feel his eyes going wide upon hearing her words, feeling shy when she kept on laughing, "in fact, you remind me of your father. when i first met him, i was filled with such joy and love at the mere sight of him. yet... because i had never felt such a powerful sense of love before, i tended to shy away from him a bit."
his mother continues to speak with her eyes closed, "but despite my distance, your father was persistent. he never once gave up on me, always sending me sweet gifts and taking me out on fun little dates. it was through his kindness alone that he had captured my heart completely, getting rid of my doubts since i knew that he was the one for me."
jinwoo smiled at his mother, allowing her to bask in her memories with a hint of sadness felt within his heart.
"so, what are you suggesting that i do then?"
his mother finally opens her eyes before giving him a wide grin, "if she means that much to you, then you need to capture her heart... turn whatever anxieties she has for you into something softer and warmer... like love. you are your father's son, and i know that you not only inherited his appearance, but his tenacity as well..."
he could feel his heart grow lighter in response to her words, now being filled with a newfound courage. letting out a light chuckle when he stands from his seat, coming towards his mother so that he could press a kiss against her hair.
"thanks mom... for the advice. i know exactly what i need to do now."
{ ... }
ever since you first caught sight of jinwoo lingering outside of your university, you had been extra cautious of your surroundings. sure, you were well aware that he had the power to keep track of you through inserting his soldiers within your shadow-
but if you were nowhere near his periphery, then he could not insert them into your shadow, therefore, making it unable for him to watch you fully.
so in your head, there was no way jinwoo could possibly keep track of you.
about a month had passed since you and your friends saw jinwoo, and ever since then, you didn't see him (thank the rulers above). since you were much more relaxed right now, completely convinced that jinwoo being close to your campus was a mere coincidence. and who knows? maybe that was the chosen meeting place he and hae-in had agreed on.
wishing to enjoy your saturday, you finish eating breakfast with your parents before telling them about your plans of enjoying the city. of course, they let you do as you pleased while making you promise them to be home by 9pm at the latest. sealing your promise with them, you grab your bag that held your phone and wallet before leaving your apartment.
the weather was so nice, and you could feel the gentle wind coursing through your hair, making you let out a happy sigh. you stop walking and take a moment to enjoy the weather. "i knew it was a good idea to come out of the house."
"about time."
you freeze upon hearing a deep chuckle settled a few feet away from you, making your eyes go wide as you saw what appeared to be shadowy wisps forming before you.
you were left gaping when jinwoo reveals himself from the shadows, giving you a smug expression.
"did you think you could hide from me forever?" amusement was seen shining within his grey eyes, appearing as bright as silver with the way the sun was seen against them. you were caught off guard, whispering to him in a shocked manner, "you wasted your shadow exchange for this?"
jinwoo's eyes were tilted upwards in question, "oh, so you know a lot about me then?"
he ignores your flustered expression, coming closer to you as he held your chin tightly with one of his hands. he forces you to look at him, a look of annoyance with a hint of anger shimmering within his now glowing, purple eyes.
"why have you been avoiding me?"
his question comes out as strained, and you had no clear answer to give him without spilling your own secrets.
because i'm not from this world?
because i'm half in love with you due to the fact that you're my comfort character?
because i don't want to see you falling for cha hae-in and feel hurt and envious at the same time?
yet none of those words fall from your parted lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from meeting his gaze with a pout. seeing your expression, he sighs and immediately lets go of your chin. running a hand through his hair, he appears disappointed in himself when he meets your gaze again.
"i'm sorry, i was supposed to treat you gently..." jinwoo apologizes to you before taking a hold of your hand. "come on, let me take you out on a proper date."
by now, your mind was spinning, sputtering out weak protests as you could feel the heat against your cheeks. were you dreaming again? was this actually happening?
did your fantasies just come to life?
still caught in a daze, you and jinwoo had been walking for quite some time when he finally stopped at what looked like an amusement park. you look behind you to double check yourself, taking note that the skies were still perfect and sunny-
not at all swallowed up by a looming, purple gate.
a knowing smile crosses your features when jinwoo purchases tickets for you and him to go into the park, making you bask in the sweet scents of cakes, candies, with a hint of buttery popcorn. of course, thanks to his status as an s-rank hunter, he was allowed entry with you within mere minutes.
as you both walk into the amusement park, the crowd of people that once lingered quickly parted ways, their excited whispers could be heard while jinwoo kept your hand held tightly within his.
"no way, it's hunter sung jinwoo!"
"who's that with him?"
"i don't believe she's a hunter..."
"hunter sung with a regular civilian? wow, that's unheard of."
you felt your anxieties beginning to mount when jinwoo suddenly gave your hand a squeeze.
"just ignore them and don't even worry about it." jinwoo's smile manages to captivate you, and you had to look away from him (unless you wished for your heart to burst from the confines of your chest!)
why didn't you go with hae-in instead, like you were supposed to?
you didn't allow your jealousy to ruin this seemingly perfect moment with him, deciding to ask instead, "why did you want to go here with me?"
jinwoo shrugs while looking straight ahead. "i've always wanted to try and go here once... while taking a chance to get to know you better."
you blink up at him, detecting what he was hinting in his voice.
had he been watching you after all?
did he know that you weren't meant to be here-
is that why he held an interest in you?
because you weren't normal-
because you were an anomaly?
"do you want to get on that ride first?" jinwoo breaks through your thoughts, making you look up to see one of the rollercoasters. with a smile, you knew that you would enjoy each and every ride more so than cha hae-in ever could since you were still a mere civilian. such cheap thrills were still very much entertaining to you.
"yes! if it's at all possible, i'd like to ride everything at least once!" you tell him with a wide smile, squeezing his hand in response when he smiles down at you.
"sure, let's go on every ride, then."
so you spent the next several hours getting on each and every ride. while jinwoo maintained a blank expression, you raised your arms up and continued to yell with joy and happiness. each ride filled you with an exhilaration you hadn't felt in a long time. 
and with jinwoo follwing you every step of the way, you only felt your happiness increase.
after tiring yourself out with all the rides, jinwoo buys you lunch consisting of a cheeseburger meal. you look over at him, seeing him sipping at his soda while not even eating. between bites of your burger, you asked him why he didn't get anything to eat.
in response to your question, jinwoo simply rests his cheek against the palm of his hand. "i'm not hungry... because seeing your happiness and smile is enough to fill me."
your eyes go wide, not expecting jinwoo to say such a thing to you. as your heart began to race in response, you saw jinwoo looking away from you with a blush and a grin. he remains quiet, allowing you to finish your meal when he suddenly asks, "i know you're probably tired from all those rides, but... do you think you can handle one last ride with me?"
your breathing becomes labored then, heart already beginning to skip beats when you realized what was going to happen next...
{ ... }
your screams could be heard as you practically cling to jinwoo while riding on kaisel's back. as the shadow monarch kept laughing at your terrified screams, you were doing all that you could to keep from puking up your lunch!
the wyvern's wings seemed to cut through the skies, picking up speed at jinwoo's commands as you held on to him in an even tighter manner. after what felt like an eternity, kaisel began to slow down its flight, landing in the midst of a forested area while jinwoo carried you down its back.
jinwoo lands against the plush grass with you still in his embrace, still giving you an innocent smile while admiring your scowling face.
he calls out your name in between his laughter, "are you alright?"
you shake your head and fought back the dizziness coupled along with the contents of your food felt swirling in your stomach. "n-no... that was practically maniacal of you, sung jinwoo."
jinwoo's laughter becomes louder now, still keeping you in his arms when he tells you with a hint of arrogance. "consider this as payback for purposely ignoring me for so long."
his words only makes the nausea get worse, filling you with anxiety when he continues to walk even deeper into the forest, not stopping until he reached a clearing that you were all too familiar with.
your heart clenched with pain at the memory of hae-in with jinwoo at this exact location, watching as a shooting star was seen decorating the night sky.
yet, with you still in his embrace, the scene was a little different.
jinwoo settles himself against the grass, placing you on his lap with his arms wrapped around you. he presses your back against his chest with a hum, never once looking away from the skies while keeping you close to him.
your heart was still racing painfully, but you struggled to find the right words to even say to him. and as you were stewing in your thoughts, you knew you had to tell him the truth.
"do you realize that i am not originally part of your universe?"
jinwoo doesn't look away from the skies, only letting out another hum as his grin seemed to widen in response to your question. "of course i know... but don't worry. it doesn't matter to me where you're from... as long as you agree to be mine from now on."
your mouth turns dry at his answer, making you turn around to face him, "w-what? how can it not matter to you? i...i tried so hard not to get in the way of your life, b-because you deserved to be happy with cha hae-in..."
he meets your gaze then, eyes glowing purple once more, "you thought that was best for me?"
your throat clenches painfully and you look away from him, only managing a nod in response.
"...is that why you were so dead set on avoiding me?"
you shut your eyes and let out a shaky "yes, i didn't want to fall even more in love with you... knowing that you belonged to her originally."
"don't be ridiculous... i am my own person and can very much choose who i wish to be with." jinwoo reassures you in between bouts of his laughter, tightening his hold on you before continuing, "i've said it before, and i'll say it again, it doesn't matter to me where you came from."
he shifts the way he held you just then, turning you around so that you were now fully facing him, with your hands against his shoulders. your face was getting hotter by the minute, and from the way jinwoo was holding you in place, you couldn't even look away from him.
"when the system alerted me to your presence, i thought that you were a threat... but the more i observed you, i came to admire you..."
shutting his eyes, you felt jinwoo gently delving his fingers into your hair before continuing, "i was honestly so mesmerized by your presence... and i kept thinking to myself... 'how are you able to be so happy all the time? how are you so filled with love for your family and friends? why did you exude so much light...?'"
jinwoo opens his eyes once more, now framing at your face with his two hands, "you being in my universe was the best thing that ever happened to me... and you being here makes me happy, do you understand?"
"jinwoo..."
your whisper of his name was all you could manage when he suddenly tightens his arms around you, bringing your head down closer to his when he perfectly slots his lips with yours, kissing you with a passion you had never once felt before as you basked in this moment with him...
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a.n. - ahhhh i'm so happy at how this came out! i've wanted to do a story like this for a while, and i hope that you readers have enjoyed it as well 🥹
edit: i'm trying to make this appear in the tags, so i'm sorry if this is a double post to you! 😭
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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rainylana · 23 hours
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Relationship headcanons w/Eddie
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: just a few head canons! just one warning for a mention of vomiting.
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• i think there’s a random couch that is out in his yard that gets rained on and moldy, but he just keeps it outside to sit on it. it’s covered in cat and dog hair. it’s been there since he can remember. you both sit out on it a lot and watch the sunset, even though there’s perfectly good chairs on the porch for you to sit on. 
• pays for everything even though he doesn’t have the money for it. he works himself to the bone when he’s not in school just so he has the money to take you out. you always offer to pay, but he never lets you.
• gives the back of your neck little squeezes<3 especially when he can tell that you’re anxious and don’t want to talk about it.
• reads to you when you’re sick. he loves to coddle you, borderline baby you, when you don’t feel like getting out of bed. he’ll spoon feed you soup and make you tea. he’ll always hold your hair for you when you get sick to your stomach!
• holds the door open for you no matter where you go. he’s always a gentleman, despite what everyone says about him. also pulls out your chair for you at restaurants, school and even hellfire. he doesn’t care if the guys tease him. you’re his queen.
• when it’s allergy season he keeps tissues in his jacket pocket at the ready for when you need them.
• the first time you cried he realized that he was in love with you. watching you become so upset had made his heart ache.
• you have to wake him up for school because he can’t wake up to his alarm. it doesn’t matter how loud it is, he will NOT wake up. wayne was so happy when you moved in because he was sick and tired of hearing eddie’s alarm go off for ten minutes before he eventually got up to wake his nephew up.
• doesn’t like shopping, but will go to the antique store or goodwill with you to look for old jewelry. he bought some combat boots there once that he was really happy about:) he modeled them for you in the dust aisles of the store.
• made you a ring out of a spoon. he found an article in a magazine on how to make one. he engraved his initials on it<3 got into the habit and started making them for his friends at hellfire.
• enjoys watching scary movies with you because of the way you hide your face in his chest.
• you have to make him eat vegetables because he refuses to. you have to basically feed him. he throws such a fit. if it wasn’t for you, he’d live off nothing but junk food.
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permanentswaps · 3 days
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The Swap Club - New Peter's POV
Read Part 1 here.
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I'll never understand why someone as attractive as Peter Katsouris would join the Swap Club. I mean, just look at him - those chiseled muscles, that confident smirk. He could have anyone he wanted effortlessly. Yet, here he was, willingly swapping bodies with a random stranger.
At least for me, being in the Swap Club made sense. My old body was constantly out of shape, no matter what I tried to fix it. Hours at the gym, strict diets, you name it – nothing worked. I felt trapped.
By the time Peter came around, I had been a member of the Swap Club for years. I was what we called a “banker,” someone who held onto their first place pick until the perfect body came along. Sure, some cute bodies had come up in the monthly lottery, and they had potential – but they mostly weren't my type. So, I held out hope for something better, knowing that eventually, the perfect opportunity would present itself.
As soon as I saw Peter's body pop up on the list, it was like the universe had finally heard my prayers. With just five minutes to make my decision before my swap, I didn't hesitate. I confirmed my selection without a second thought, my heart pounding with anticipation.
Suddenly, for the first time in three years, I felt all the sensations of the physical world. And I knew immediately that I had made the right choice.
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Standing in front of the mirror, I marveled at my new reflection. Peter's chiseled features stared back at me, his sexy smirk now my own. The power and strength emanating from this body were palpable. For the first time ever, I felt confident.
As I flexed Peter's hard muscles and admired his toned physique, I knew I needed to hit the gym to test out what this body could really do.
Arriving at the gym, I wasted no time diving into my workout routine. For two hours straight, I pushed myself to the limit, testing every muscle group imaginable. The weight felt lighter, the movements more fluid than I had ever experienced before. It was as if this body had been tailor-made for physical perfection, responding effortlessly to the demands I placed upon it.
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As the beads of sweat dripped down my brow and my muscles screamed in exertion, I felt alive in a way I had never felt before. Each rep, each lift, I reveled in the sensation of strength coursing through my veins. After what felt like an eternity of intense working out, I finally decided to leave the gym, my body still buzzing with adrenaline and satisfaction.
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Making my way to the showers, I couldn't resist the temptation to feel myself up, to explore every curve and contour of this perfectly sculpted form. As the warm water cascaded down my toned physique, I began to lose myself in arousal.
However, my tranquility was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps entering the shower area. Glancing over, I saw a cute young twink making his way towards me, his slender frame adorned with nothing but a towel draped loosely around his waist.
Watching him, a surge of desire started stirring within me. As he stepped into the shower stall next to mine, I couldn't resist stealing glances in his direction. The temptation to reach out, to touch him, was overwhelming. I hesitated, but then I remembered that in Peter's body, I’m hot as hell.
He caught my gaze and flashed me a shy smile. I responded with a confident smirk. Without saying a word, I motioned for him to come over to me.
I guided his hand to trail down my chiseled abs and defined waist, relishing in the sensation of his touch against my newly acquired body. As I lifted my other arm and flexed my bicep, I watched with anticipation as his eyes widened in awe. Encouraged by his response, I guided him further, urging him to explore every inch of my muscular frame.
But it was when I lifted my arms, exposing my hairy pits, that the true intimacy began. With a sense of desire hanging in the air, I guided him to lick and nuzzle against the soft tufts of hair, reveling in the sensation of his warm breath against my skin.
Even though he eagerly complied with my silent commands, it was still not enough. I wanted more. I wanted to feel him take all of me.
Without hesitation, I turned him around, pressing his arms against the slick tiled wall. With a sense of urgency driving me forward, I thrust my thick cock into his waiting ass, the tightness and warmth of his hole enveloping me in ecstasy.
Lost in the throes of passion, we surrendered ourselves to the rhythm and came together in perfect harmony, the twink climaxing without me even touching his cock.
Letting him down off the wall, the twink turned to me and said, “That was amazing. Thanks so much, uhh... what was your name again?”
“Peter,” I replied, flexing my new bicep for him again. “Peter Katsouris, nice to meet you.”
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reilemon · 2 days
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🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧
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♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out
♡︎word count: 2.9k
♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.
♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this
banner by @cafekitsune
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A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.
The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.
This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!
It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.
Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.
Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.
You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.
He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"
You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."
"But everything was so beautiful!"
"Yes, but think of the luggage!"
He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."
He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.
While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.
When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.
You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.
He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.
Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"
He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."
You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -
"Like what you see?"
Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.
"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.
⋆ ˚。⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚。⋆
Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...
Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.
He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"
You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.
Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.
He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!
"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.
"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.
"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"
He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!
The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"
He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.
"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.
"Give it back!"
Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.
"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.
You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.
The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.
He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.
You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.
"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.
But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.
He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."
You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.
His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.
And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.
Still, you needed your little revenge.
It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.
He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.
He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.
A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.
Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.
"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.
He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."
"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.
He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.
And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.
You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.
"I want to make it up to you, darling."
He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.
He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"
You sheepishly shake your head.
The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.
Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.
Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.
He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.
A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.
You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.
With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"
You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.
His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."
He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.
Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.
And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"
He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.
He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."
Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.
You softly whisper "I need you."
The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.
And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.
"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.
You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."
He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.
You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.
He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."
You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.
Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.
He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.
Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.
"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.
But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."
He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.
After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.
He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.
He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."
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verstappen-cult · 21 hours
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You couldn’t believe it.
Tears stream down your face as you watch anxiously from the edge of your seat how the checkered flag is being waved and the McLaren fans — and everyone there in Miami — start cheering.
Lando has won his first Grand Prix.
Finally.
You think about all those sleepless nights when you’d talk on the phone for hours and the vulnerable side of both you and Lando would make an appearance.
How he’d tell you all about his dream of being a race winner. How much he wished for it to happen. How much he needed it.
And how you’d smile and reassure him that his time was coming, that he just needed to wait a little.
And in those moments when he would feel down and not enough, when he would question everything, you were always there whispering comforting words; holding his hands and making him remember why he was there and why he needed to keep going, to keep believing in himself.
You were always the light at the end of the tunnel for him. At least that’s what he used to say.
You grab your phone, opening his chat with a blurred vision. But you hesitate when you see that the last message was four months ago.
Because yes. That happened.
And it is in that moment that you remember that you are not actually talking anymore. Your last message still sits there on read.
But you promised him one time, a very long time ago, that you’d be there cheering for him when he’d finally win his first race.
You’re not exactly there, but you’re are watching him from home and didn’t stop cheering and shouting for him from the moment he started leading the race.
So, with your heart thumping in your ears and whole body trembling in anticipation, you send a couple of emojis that he will know the exact meaning of, before throwing your phone away and forgetting all about it for the rest of the day.
You may not be together anymore, but you will never stop cheering and feeling happy for him and all his accomplishments.
It’s four in the morning when an incoming call wakes you up. The 2024 Miami Grand Prix winner’s name lighting up the screen.
You answer the call without a second thought.
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gwen’s message. yes. i needed to write it, sue me! & yea, it’s just a little angsty-thing bc i’m a whore for angst and couldn’t stop thinking about this scenario. ☹️ i’m never gonna shut up about miami 2024. prepare to be sick of me (my friends). if you see any mistake it is because i wrote this in like five mins lol love you all a lot! <333 well, well, well… look who decided to show up! don’t miss me anymore because you fav girl is back.
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bg-brainrot · 2 days
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To Be Known (Astarion x GN!Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Summary: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known.
Tags: Astarion's POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3 but pre-Cazador, Astarion is Bad at Feelings,
A/N: Disclaimer up top: I'm not abandoning any of my other fic! Promise! Just trying to get over a tough month and get back into the swing of things :'D
Also, based on the quote: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is like being loved by God.” (disclaimer: I’m not religious, and I know this quote comes in a few different forms, but google told me about this version so I stuck to it.)
Word count: ~2.1k
“To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods,” Astarion reads aloud, to no one in particular.
A silence follows, wherein his mind repeats the words he’s just read, absorbing none of them. To be fully known and truly loved… The words don’t seem to stick. 
Finally deciding that the sentence isn’t worth his effort, he tosses the book onto his bedroll with a groan. “What rubbish.”
Outside of this author's haughty approach to prose, Astarion doesn’t particularly care to think too deeply about what it means to be loved– especially by any godsforsaken deities. 
He has only just come around to the idea of love, not that he’s said the word ‘love’ to you just yet. It felt too much, too heavy a word to carry considering all of the other burdens the two of you bore between you. But the idea of it? Well, he was warming up to it. And with every moment shared between you, he believes he may be warming up all the more.
But what does being known have to do with love? No, that concept has him pulling his brows together, getting up from his bedroll and putting distance between himself and the drivel that Gale had recommended to him.
That’s what I get for listening to the damned wizard’s tastes, he thinks, shaking his head slightly. Some philosophical prattle, just as verbose as he is.
But even as he stands, brushes himself off, shoves the book away to the furthest corner of his tent before he makes to leave, the question of being known never escapes him.
What does it even mean to be known? he wonders, now lost in thought as he emerges from his tent. How could anyone know me, after all I’ve been through… do I even know who I am anymore?
The idea hangs over him, trails him like a storm cloud as he begins stalking about the camp you’ve all set up in the outskirts of Rivington. He’s not sure where his feet are leading him other than away– away from the distasteful book, away from away from your knowing gaze, which would only pry his thoughts out of him.
Much to Astarion’s disappointment, the trail he takes doesn’t stop the winding path his thoughts have taken.
Have I ever been known? he wonders, vaguely registering the breeze in his hair and the distant sounds of running water as he travels further and further from camp.
Perhaps I was once upon a time, but I could hardly be expected to remember now, could I? The thought is bitter and unwelcome, though likely true. He brusquely swats a branch out of his way and continues into a bramble unrepentantly. Gods, how can he bring himself to care about something as trifling as nature when he’s quite busily lost in thought right now, thank-you-very-much.
Astarion releases a sigh as he finally fights his way into a copse of trees. Secluded, finally. 
Alone. 
With his thoughts.
Which won’t seem to quiet despite the soft chittering of small animals, nor the sickly sweet smell of flowers in the air.
Why are some pitiful poet’s ‘words of wisdom’ even bothering me? he thinks as he lowers himself onto the trunk of a fallen tree. What’s even the use in being known?
Astarion crosses his legs in front of him, watching with narrowed eyes as his boots press into the soft grass, crushing it easily. There is no use to being known, he decides as he presses harder with one foot and the grass is further flattened. To wish that is…
His foot twists down even more firmly.
Pathetic, Astarion thinks, lifting his boot back up to see his handiwork. The grass lies flat, thoroughly smashed by him. This world is simply about being the one who tramples, and not the one being trampled.
That thought oddly comforts him. He knows the push and pull of power well enough– this dynamic is second nature to him. Like an old, threadbare blanket, it wraps around his shoulders, providing no warmth, but plenty of familiar reassurance.
It’s moments later that the blanket is wrenched from him and he’s laid bare once more, under the startling sunlight of your attention.
“Astarion?”
Your voice pierces through his thoughts, and his instinctual answering emotions are new to him. Surprise. Elation. Relief.
The vampire had been utterly unprepared to hear your voice, convinced he’d found a spot away from you all. Convinced that you wouldn’t be here with your thoughtful gaze– not now, while he’s still busy sorting through a myriad of questions. But he still can’t deny the way he welcomes your presence. 
He suspects that your perceptive gaze can easily catch that, despite the way his shoulder’s tense and the way his head turns away, his ears still tilt back toward you, ready for your next words.
“Astarion, there you are,” you say. He hears the same emotions he feels in your voice. How odd it feels to be mirrored by you. He can’t deny enjoying that either. “What’s the matter? When I couldn’t find you around camp, I thought the worst might have happened."
The man scoffs, trying his best to sound unaffected by your sudden arrival, refusing to meet your inquiring gaze. “And what, pray tell, did you assume could have happened?”
“We’re practically at the Gate, Astarion. Anything could have happened. Need I remind you what happened to Dribbles?” you respond, voice tight with worry. 
Ah yes. The dead clown. “It will take more than a shapeshifter to take me out, darling,” he retorts, still refusing to turn toward you, now dutifully inspecting his nails.
You let out a small huff of disapproval. “And what about Cazador?”
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Astarion replies, though the thought of being caught unawares by Cazador bristles at him. If he did get caught, it would be entirely Gale’s fault for lending him that book… He shakes his head of white curls and continues, “Besides, I barely got more than a few dozen yards away before you came chasing after me. I could hardly be in any real danger.”
When you sigh, he finally turns to face you. The expression you give him then isn’t frustration, nor anger– it’s an unusual mixture of worry and… joy? “I couldn’t help but chase. Would it be pathetic to say that I miss you when you’re gone for too long?” you respond.
He’s not sure he has an answer to that.
Especially when he feels pathetic for how light his undead heart feels at the statement.
Astarion drops his head, avoiding your gaze, and hoping you don’t catch the startled happiness on his face.
When it’s clear he doesn’t have a response for you, you change the subject as you close the distance between you, “So, what brought you out here?”
“Nothing,” he replies, too easily. You know it’s a lie. He knows that you know it.
“Nothing, eh?” you ask, finding a seat next to him on the fallen tree. “What about that nothing has you running into the woods?”
“I was not running,” he defends, with a click of his tongue. “I was taking a brisk stroll.”
“Fine then,” you relent, elbowing his arm gently. “What about it led to a ‘brisk stroll’?”
There’s no use hiding from them, is there? he thinks, leaning back on the trunk. “I’ll tell you,” he begins, staring out into a bush. “But only if you answer a question for me.”
“Anything,” you say, and he can feel your shrug on his arm.
“Who am I, really?”
You still. Astarion had expected no less. After all, it’s not an easy question to answer– even for him. He’s putting quite a lot of undue pressure onto you with the question, it’s selfish really… but he can’t help but want to be selfish around you.
So he lets the question settle into the silence.
When you finally speak, your voice is crisp in the muted sounds of the clearing. “Promise you won’t care for me any less after I answer you?”
Astarion snaps his head back at you, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Well that depends, my dear. What are you planning to say?”
“Promise?” you press.
As if he could care any less for you– he would have done so already if he could. “I promise,” he murmurs reluctantly. “Now, please, the suspense is really too much.”
“You are Astarion,” you start, reaching out for his hand. He cautiously places his in yours, unable to hide the twitch of a smile as your warm fingers lock with his. “You’re a beautiful, elven vampire, with silver hair, and red eyes. You’re talented, witty, and…”
Your voice trails off, and Astarion can’t help but wonder why you’d been so hesitant to answer. So far, he is loving this answer.
“And you’re an absolute arse at times.”
“Excuse me?” he gasps, moving to pull his hand out of yours.
You don’t release it, but you do continue, “You laugh at the misfortune of others, you steal, you lie, you cheat at games, you can be incredibly selfish.”
“Darling, are we certain you care about me after all this?” he grumbles, giving up on fighting your grip on him as your words wash over him. He knows all of this, of course, has been entirely unashamed of it all before… but it feels different when you say it. When you lay it out plainly before him.
“Yes,” you answer quickly, tugging on his hand gently. “Because all of that makes you you. And, personally, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
He blinks at you, confused on how you arrived at this conclusion.
“You are so unabashedly you, love. And I adore that. I know it might not feel like it after all you’ve been through… but you are still yourself. No one has been able to take that from you.”
Now Astarion stares at your intertwined hands, wondering if he deserves such impassioned, absurd words said in his defense. His voice comes quietly when he asks his next questions, “And how do I know that’s who I have always been? Who I was meant to be?”
You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, warm kiss before you continue, “Astarion, I don’t know what might have bothered you, but I want you to know that, no matter what it was, you’re amazing as the man you are. Whoever you were, whoever you think you were meant to be, you should be proud of who you are now. And… once we deal with Cazador, I hope you have the chance to rediscover that man.”
Astarion hadn’t meant this to be some kind of journey of self-discovery– really, he’d only been irked by the needless philosophy of the book Gale had lent him. But, hearing you say those words, it feels as if some weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
Worry, he realizes. Of losing who he was, of course, but also of being utterly, desolately unknown. Naturally he needn’t have worried because here you are, ready and willing to understand him. To accept and care for him, even while knowing him, flaws and all.
Maybe being known wasn’t such a burden. Not if it were by you.
“Yes, well,” he begins, suddenly unsure what to say to your earnest words. “Thank you for that, I think. Though, really, I could have done without all of the barbs. It feels like I've been struck by psychic damage.” Astarion gives a dramatic head loll, averting his flustered face.
You laugh and squeeze his hand. “Well, it’s a good thing I have no clue how to deal psychic damage, but I’ll be sure to get Gale right over if you need a good jostle to the brain.”
Gale’s done enough of that, Astarion thinks. But he doesn’t say so to you. Instead, the man simply shakes his head. “I’m quite alright. Speaking of the rest of those fools, they’ve likely begun to burn the camp down without us. Shall we head back?”
While the trek to the clearing had been filled with spiraling thoughts and matters of the self, Astarion finds that the journey back is filled with far more soft touches and kisses– Not that he minds.
In fact, he thinks with a smile, as you both walk together, practically falling into each others’ arms. Maybe this was who I was meant to be all along.
That night, once he’s settled back into his tent for bed, Astarion reads the passage once more, “To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods.”
Astarion is certainly no closer to believing in the gods’ willingness or ability to love him, but he could hardly care. No, he suspects that he knows what a god’s love is– after all, if you truly love him, fangs, scars, and all… well, that may very well be divine.
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kalimarinu · 2 days
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offerings from the unnamed.
[ summary : a mystery person is leaving gifts for 141? ]
[ relationships : tf141 x gn!reader (platonic) ]
[ warnings : 3rd person & 2nd-ish pov , gn reader 🤍 , use of y/n (your name) & c/n (codename/callsign) , unedited & not proofread , i know nothing about the military once again ]
[ word count : 2,392 ]
[ notes : back after another long while , yeah!!! this was fun <3 i can't believe this is 2k words what ?!@?!>@/ that's longer than my previous fic & this was just like a spitball idk..., also the 141 might just have memory loss why is everyone forgetting everything!! (y'all idk why i got so into it w gaz and price's section like why is it so long and soap and ghost's are so short???. but more the merrier, right...?) ]
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John Price:
he was pretty surprised at first, he did not expect to see a bouquet of roses on his desk. though, he doesn't question it? 
—until he walks up closer to examine the flowers, just to see a little tag with a note on it that reads: 'for my favorite captain. -a/n.'
now he's a little confused. could it be one of his sergeants? his lieutenant? hell, it could be so many other people.
the only hint is the handwriting. he swears he can recognize it. 
but suddenly price reminds himself he actually has work, so never mind the flowers, for now, he needs to get back to doing his paperwork and such. 
as he works away and whatnot, the thought of the roses is lingering in the back of his mind and slowly creeping up to the front, and he can't seem to ignore the questions.
"why roses?" "whose handwriting is that? i swear i know it." "for me? why not anybody else?"
he's utterly perplexed at this point, so he quickly finishes up whatever he needs to do and turns to the bouquet he left sitting on the other side of the desk long ago.
after many, many minutes of just trying to grasp the mysterious person whose handwriting looks the same as on the tag, he gives up.
gives up on trying to figure out this anonymous roses bullshit by himself, anyway. the captain goes to his two closest buddies, unsurprisingly nikolai and laswell.
he questions them, he tells them everything. to the point he walked through the door and saw the bouquet and to the point where he was now asking them for 'help'. but it just ends up being just a lot more questions and inevitably no answers.
he goes to his lieutenant. his two sergeants. nothing.
now he gives up fully. nobody knows anything about this or who it might be. not him, his best friends, or his own task force.
time passes quickly until it's the end of the day (and he's surprised he's almost spent hours trying to figure this puzzling gift out), and he's trying to come to terms with this.
'it's intended to be anonymous, he shouldn't be trying to figure this out, and he shouldn't lose sleep over this.' is what he tells himself when he gets back to his barracks.
he looks down at the mysterious bouquet in his hand that never had left him alone since he'd come across it, like a fungus that had grown on a damp and and won't let go, and he lets out a sigh.
but john supposes he doesn't mind keeping it. if it really is someone he's friends with (which he's sure), he shouldn't just throw it away. he'll keep it.
which is what he does. preparing and cleaning a random glass jar big enough to fit the flowers, found somewhere around his barracks. it's now put to better use instead of just collecting dust, now filled up with water, the stems of the roses inside.
he sets it on the nightstand next to his bed, and for some reason the room feels a little more homey. oh and don't forget the tag, which he sets next to the jar of blossoms, just in case he does remember who's handwriting that is, he'll be 100% sure who it is and won't be doubting himself if he checks it.
he has come to terms with it now. he's comfortable in bed and he won't be asking himself or anyone else questions that'll lead to nothing. he's sure the one who gave him the bouquet will reveal themselves soon enough. like he told himself, 'he won't lose sleep over this.'
and he is about to drift off into sleep— until suddenly he remembers, and he jolts, sitting up.
he turns his head to look at the roses as his brain is overwhelmed with inquiry. price knows who it is. it's c/n. it's y/n. and now he just has more questions, some the same as previous ones but with the added confusion that it's you that got the flowers for him.
he is going to lose sleep over this after all.
Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish:
when soap first heard about the captain's situation, he thought it was hilarious. he got roses from an unknown individual? that's silly. he almost even started laughing seeing price so frustrated and baffled over a bouquet of plants.
though, after he said he didn't know anything about any flowers and price walked away in disappointment to go question his other sergeant, perhaps he was a little jealous. don't look at him like that. what's so wrong about maybe wanting a secret admirer?
unbeknownst to him, he would get a gift of his own in no time. when he got to the mess hall, he immediately spotted a box of something right on his table. he quickly went to the seat he always sits at, because of course he has a specific place to eat every day— and he hopes it isn't too obvious to the other soldiers nearby that he's resisting the urge to dash over and admire the supposed present.
when he finally gets to see the gift up close, he practically has stars in his eyes. the note on top of the box catches his eyes first before anything, a simple sentence of 'heard you had a sweet tooth.' typed on the printed out paper.
he has to resist a giddy grin creeping onto his face as he carefully slides the note aside, looking at the box of assorted chocolates in front of him. ultimately, he breaks, and a smile is instantly plastered on his face, already taking one of the sweets and plopping it into his mouth, humming contentedly.
he has the urge to dig into all of them because the candy is remarkably delicious and has his body tingling with dopamine, but fights it and chooses on savoring the gift, taking time to relish in each pieces' flavor.
he enjoys the way the first layers of chocolate slowly melts on his tongue and the taste of the equally chocolate-y syrup inside hits him like a freight train— it makes him appreciate the person who gave him this even more so.
don't worry though, johnny isn't too greedy. he saves the other half of the box for later.
eventually, he does lift his glued-on gaze from the gift to around the mess hall. though, he's met with the other soldiers giving him weird looks. and it does look kind of odd to be fair. a grown man, another soldier, in the mess hall eating a randomly fancy box of chocolates by himself.
despite the little awkward situation and the slightly unpleasant, silent walk out of the mess hall with the box in hand, you know he's walking around with a broad grin on his face for probably the next few days.
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:
to him, the similar occurrence between his captain and sergeant friend was strange. he'd heard identical stories from both of them now— the same concept of a mysterious offering given to them by a mysterious person.
he was wondering if the lieutenant got one too, and just hadn't told anyone. he was also questioning if he would get one as well. was this individual giving gifts to everyone in the task force?
well, he'd find out soon enough. the answer is most definitely yes.
he'd been dragged away by soap just right after a briefing, into a mostly empty hallway. and after a measly, short conversation and or slight argument about why gaz had been dragged here in the first place, and also why soap looked like he was holding in a giggle fit, the latter pulled out a box from his pocket. so he is getting a gift as well— same note and everything.
soap explains that he'd been requested by this 'anonymous person' to deliver him one as well, like a damn messenger pigeon.
so gaz takes the container carefully in hand before soap snickers and scurries away to do whatever.
he's pretty interested in what's inside as he properly takes a look at it. the box is flatter than your average box, black and sleek with of course, a small, yellow sticky note taped on top. 'this is one of our favourite memories. -unknown.'
he glances around the empty hallway for a moment, feeling a bit weird standing in a quiet hallway, opening a present by himself, alone. but nevermind that— he opens it, and kyle is met with.. a necklace. a silver necklace with a heart locket attached to the bottom.
he moderately cocks his head at the sight of the locket, then picks the necklace up with his right hand, the box still resting on the surface of the other. he opens the heart and squints, a mini photograph of himself and.. another recruit, wearing a mask, so he couldn't see their face. his hand was slung over their shoulder and they were doing the same to his, and despite them covering their face, he could still see a small smile on their face and his own.
he can remember this. he thinks he knows this. it was a group photo of the whole task force. there's the other soldiers in this photo too, but the photo is cropped in a way that you can only see him and the other comrade.
but he doesn't seem to.. remember who he was next to? something in his memory is bugged, like when you forget that one word but you also somewhat remember at the same time, or you forget what you were going to say while having a conversation with somebody.
it almost makes him as frustrated as price when he got his gift, but he wants to push those other emotions aside and just focus on the gratefulness he feels. to be honest he adores the necklace. he's sure he would think it suits him if he wore it and looked in the mirror.
and the picture.. he's still thinking about it. still looking at it. he finds the memory charming and sweet, even if he can't remember this soldier properly. he likes the way he can still see both of the happiness and smile in their eyes despite how tiny the image is. he likes the way he can see the shine and colour in their eyes in the dim light where the photo was taken.
the more he admires the jewelry the more he falls in love with it. the more he wants to cherish it and the mysterious fella who has gifted it to him.
after a lot of staring, and smiling at the present in hand, he finally closes the locket and slips the necklace on, briefly feeling the cold silver around his neck before it turns warm from his body heat.
and then he just walks off casually just like soap, who's probably waiting around the corner to ask "what'd you get?"
he now holds the box close to his chest as if he might keep that too, nearing the end of the hallway.
kyle's mind goes to the photo again, and his brain starts whirring with the thoughts of who it is.
but he's sure he'll remember later. he'll know who the person is soon enough, maybe if he sees them walking through the halls with that same mask. but either way, he knows he'll remember, and he'll thank them for this gift.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley:
now, he already knew he was going to get a gift as well, seeing as everyone in the task force but him has gotten at least something. he's heard price's predicament, johnny entering a briefing a little too happily with small bits of chocolate syrup near his lips, and kyle proudly walking around base wearing a necklace.
but he has some assumptions that the person didn't get anything for him. he's.. well, simon 'ghost' riley, after all. spooky, intimidating to most, tall dude.
but it seems his assumptions were incorrect, because he came back to his barracks after somewhat of a rough mission just to notice a a small, dark box oddly left on top of one of the shelves near his bed.
after easily retrieving the container, he examines it— and there's the typical 'note' from them, a few words written on top of the lid with a white marker. it reads, 'saw this and it reminded me of you. from a soldier friend of yours.'
.. but what if this 'soldier friend' has actually left a bomb inside of this? will it explode right now? a spy camera? is anybody watching?
you can't blame him for the skepticism. a strange box randomly appearing on one of your shelves? you would be hesitant to open it too.
after a few shakes he gives to the box to hear if anything suspicious is inside, he decides that it isn't a miniscule explosive or a secret camera or any other funky gadget.
simon opens it, and one of his eyebrows raises as an automatic response. a bracelet? specifically, a bracelet made of small, shiny, white pearls with a single flower charm.
but he's not ungrateful or doesn't like it, per se, he's just.. confused. as everyone else was.
confused that somebody thought to get him a gift. bought something for him that he never asked for or mentioned or even thought of himself.
it's not what he was expecting at all. a bracelet. really? for him? but why? he stands in that spot for a good minute, trying to make sense of this. but he's also trying to tell himself he doesn't care about this.
but there's a little creature in his heart or in his brain or something whispering to him that he actually kind of likes it.
he won't admit any of this— but he does end up keeping it, box and all. and he does like the gorgeous glossiness of the pearls and the intricate details and carvings of the charm.
he likes the way it feels on his wrist when he slides it on. it has a nice, cool feeling, but not cold enough for it to be uncomfortable. like the way a cold pillow feels nice against your head.
and from that day forward, if you look closely enough, you can always see a glimpse of a shiny piece of jewelry peeking through the bottom of ghost's sleeve.
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aforestescape · 17 hours
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just read @ghouljams post about dating ghost vs dating simon and ugh. it’s 4:30 am but the worms
its far from the first argument you’ve had about this. your chest rising and falling with all the anger and hurt and betrayal you feel deep inside. sometimes it’s easier to hide than others. when ghost is a little more human. when he wraps his arms around you in the night it almost feels like comfort. like he’s holding you close to his heart and not just locking you away. keeping you in his embrace so you can’t escape when he’s not looking.
or the times when he comes back to your little apartment, a bouquet of flowers in hand he got from some lady selling them on the side of the road. tulips. they’re so pretty, you say as you thank him. setting them up in a vase with care and having them displayed on the kitchen table. the place where family comes at the end and beginning of the day to share warmth, laughter, and love. bonding over meals and stories about their days. it’s just too bad the tulips always die so fast. wilting away within days. dried out and falling pollen and leaves onto your table even though there’s still water in the vase.
kind of how your love feels these nights. like something that was once fruitful, that once had a chance to be something great. a nice facade on the surface that quickly gave way to days of loneliness. left to rot alone with your lover only a few steps away from you. and you knew he was rotted too. you knew all along but you thought he could be better. that maybe you’d be able to get away with loving him while he learned to love himself.
but that’s the problem. he doesn’t want to. he’s content like this if it means he doesn’t have to reach back inside, if it means he doesn’t have to look for simon within the darkness and bring him out to light again. besides, you’re his light. he found you and you gave it so freely so why should he let you get away?
you deserve better than him, he knows it. knows it by the way you sometimes stare at him with a hollow look in your eyes. by the tiredness in your voice whenever he pushes aside your desires for his own, by the acceptance of it. knows it when you’re having rows until the birds chirp in the early morning.
you only ever yell when you feel like you’re not being heard and lately it’s all you do. yell at him to just give. give you something, anything. a piece of him that you could understand. to lean on you for once instead of shouldering all the bullshit he’s dealt with in his life. telling him how he’s “so fucking selfish simon, i swear”, and he has to stop for a second to remember who simon is.
he’ll stand in the doorway whenever you’ve had enough. had enough of yelling and explaining your frustrations only for him to be nonchalant. to pass it off like what you’re saying and feeling doesn’t matter.
looming over your only chance of exit with his arms crossed over his chest. he always feels some sick, twisted satisfaction at the defeated look in your eyes. it hurts him to see you like this, really. hurts that he’s the one causing you pain but he can’t let you go. how’s he going to survive without you?
watching you with a detached expression as your face screws up. tears welling in your eyes as you storm out of the entry way and into the bathroom. slamming the door shut behind you and falling down to the floor. sobbing into your hands as he lets out a breath of relief. he’ll let you cry it out and sulk for a few days before having you back in love with him.
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songsbygumi · 3 days
Text
Glass in the park
| Megumi x reader
Summary- "Who needs sleep when you're with your crush, watching reaction videos to bad movies?"
Warnings - English it's not my first language, no mentions of readers name, non proofread and I think that's all
A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP but can be read as a standalone.
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Late nights are like old friends to you. While everyone else is catching a good sleep, you're up and about, binge-watching YouTube, diving into a good read, or maybe even handling some homework you definitely didn't procrastinate on.
So, hitting up the kitchen for a midnight snack isn't exactly uncharted territory for you. It's two in the morning, and the only sound echoing through the school halls is the soft shuffle of your bunny slippers on the floor.
With one hand wrapped in your trusty blanket and the other clutching your cellphone and headphones (because what's a snack without some entertainment, right?), you make your way to the kitchen. You snag some cookies and a bag of chips, figuring Toge won't mind. Just as you're about to make your exit, you spot a looming figure by the microwave— a sudden jolt of fear seizes you, causing an involuntary scream to slip from your lips.
"Shhh, you'll wake up the whole school" Megumi's hand covers your mouth.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing up?" Megumi's gaze bores into yours; you know gather information from him is like pulling teeth—he shares what he wants, and getting more has always proven to be a challenge.
"Was finishing up some homework" he replies, and you realize that's probably all you'll get from him. But he doesn't move, so you hold your ground, giving him an opportunity to continue. "Are you always eating at night?"
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You spend most nights awake, tired of the monotony of your room, opting instead to explore the school or watch movies in the common room. You always thought you were quiet enough to avoid notice.
"No," you defend yourself, feeling a pang of self-consciousness. "Sometimes I read in the common room."
"I see" chatting with Megumi always prompts you to speak up. You haven't been friends for too long, so initially, you attributed the silence to your status as a relative stranger.
But ever since Panda stood both of you up at the cinema a few months ago for some lame excuse you can't even remember, you've realized that Megumi isn't exactly chatty. Occasionally, he'll launch into rants about his dislikes—he's quite the hater, you've noticed—but more often than not, he'll quietly listen as you ramble on about your interests.
"I didn’t realize I was being loud. Sorry if I woke you up" you apologize, a slight pout forming on your face. Megumi's gaze softens.
"It's okay. I'm usually awake anyway, so it doesn’t matter" he replies, though in truth, he's often awakened from sleep by your nocturnal activities. He's a light sleeper, but he keeps that to himself; he doesn't want to upset you.
You both linger in silence for a moment, neither quite ready to part ways. Your mind races, weighing the options. You could retreat to your room and bore yourself to death until sleep finally claims you, or you could spend the night with your biggest crush. Before you know it, the words tumble out.
“Would you like to watch some YouTube with me?” you suggest, your heart racing at the thought of spending time with him.
Of course, he wants to watch videos with you. Despite his exhaustion, he'll never turn down an opportunity to spend time with you. Even if he won't admit it, not even to himself, he's a sucker for your hopeful puppy-dog eyes.
"Yeah, sure" he responds, clearing his throat in an attempt to maintain his usual unimpressed demeanor. He steps away from the kitchen door, taking the items you've been holding with him.
Neither of you thought this through very well, because now you're both staring at the common room couch, trying to figure out how to sit so you can share headphones and watch the screen without it getting awkward.
“Maybe we can put the cellphone in the middle of us” he suggests tentatively, and you nod in agreement.
You position the phone in the middle leaning against one of your slippers and pass a headphone to Megumi. You both sit incredibly straight, hands glued to your sides, trying not to make each other uncomfortable. You're so focused on your proximity to Megumi that you hardly pay attention to the YouTuber reacting to a bad movie.
“How is this movie even real?” you chuckle at his incredulous expression.
“What are you talking about? It's the funniest thing ever” you retort, barely containing your laughter.
“It's supposed to be a romance” he argues back, and you can't help but laugh.
“Sure, but it's way funnier if you pretend it's a comedy” you reply, finally allowing yourself to relax, leaning back on your side of the couch and putting your feet up.
“Either way, it's bad” Megumi scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.
You laugh even more, and his chest swells with pride because he's the one making you laugh. Oh, how he loves hearing your laughter—it's enough to brighten his entire day.
After an hour of watching silly reaction videos to the worst movies Megumi has ever seen, the clock strikes three thirty in the morning. The bag of chips lies empty on the coffee table, and there are cookie crumbs scattered everywhere. Your shoulders and knees are touching, and he notices you trying to stifle your third yawn in the last five minutes from the corner of his eye. Your eyes water a little, and you scrunch your nose afterward. He can't help but smile at how cute you are.
He knows you should go to sleep, but you're already selecting another video for him to watch, and you rest your head on his shoulder, not thinking clearly from exhaustion. He allows it because it's you.
"Are you falling asleep on me?" he teases.
“Not a little" you respond, denying his accusation with a sleepy voice, and he chuckles.
"Sure, you're not" he continues to tease, and you agree with him, knowing he's just joking around.
The next time you regain consciousness, your eyes are still closed, but you can sense the brightness outside. It takes a moment for you to grasp your surroundings. Slowly becoming aware of your environment, you feel something under your hand. You move it slightly punch it a little, and it's met with a groan. What the...? Your eyes snap open, and you find yourself staring at a chest—specifically, Megumi's chest.
You slept on the common room couch with Megumi beneath you. Your legs are tangled with his, and your head rests beside your hand on his chest. Carefully, you rise, trying not to disturb him. You gather the trash and your belongings, leaving him the blanket and ensuring he's covered before exiting the room.
Megumi opens his eyes after you slip out the door, a smile playing on his lips. He gets up and folds the blanket, meeting Itadori on his way back from a shower.
"Fushiguro, are you smiling?" the pink-haired boy asks, confused.
"Go away," he replies, shutting the door to his room.
++
Bonus
“You look tired. What time did you go to sleep last night?” Maki asks, eyeing your under-eye bags.
“Uhm, can’t remember,” you reply, struggling to keep your eyes open but dozing off with your head on the table.
"Tuna Mayo," Inumaki says, and Maki turns her head to see a very tired Fushiguro walking through the hall, barely awake and not listening to a word Kugisaki is saying.
Kugisaki's gaze meets Maki's, then she notices you asleep at your desk. Returning her gaze to Maki and Inumaki, she smiles knowingly.
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raina-at · 2 days
Text
Calm
This is a sequel of sorts to a ficlet I wrote last year, to be found here, but this stands well on its own as well.
---------
Sherlock paces. And paces. And paces.
His shoes squeak on the linoleum floor. The lights flicker.
He stops, glares. “How can you be so calm?”
John raises his eyes from his book and looks at Sherlock over the rim of his reading glasses. “I’m not, really.”
“You’re reading a bloody novel!”
John sighs and puts the book down. “Was reading, from the looks of it,” he mutters, then gets up and catches both of Sherlock’s hands in his. “Look. I know you’re nervous, but you have to pace yourself a bit. These things usually take hours, and working yourself into a nervous frenzy ten minutes in won’t help anyone.”
Sherlock snorts. Nervous. He’s not nervous. 
He’s bloody terrified out of his wits. And John should be too, damn him.
“John. Our daughter is having a baby. How can you be so nonchalant?”
“Because she’s young and healthy and in the care of people who deliver babies every day,” John says, steering Sherlock towards the snack machine. 
“But none of those mothers are Rosie, and none of those babies are ours!”
“I am fully aware of that, love,” John says, calmly and efficiently frisking Sherlock’s various pockets for his chip and pin card. “Here, have some Cadbury’s.” He presses the chocolate bar into Sherlock’s hands, then gets a Mars bar for himself.
“How can you eat at this moment?”
“Because I’m hungry, and like I said, this might take hours yet. I won’t spare Rosie one single contraction if I go hungry until she’s done,” John says mildly and returns to his seat.
Sherlock follows, sitting down heavily next to John. “But what if our little girl takes after her mother? Rosie’s birth was so quick we didn’t even get Mary to the hospital in time.”
John smiles, looking at Sherlock fondly. “I think she did that on purpose. She wanted you to deliver her, not some doctor.”
Sherlock shudders as he remembers that night. How scared he was. How ambivalent he felt helping a person he hated so much through something so intimate. How miraculous it was, to hold his little baby Watson for the first time. 
It’s odd, to think back on that moment now. To a time before she was his daughter. That there was a time in her life when she wasn’t his. That there was a time in his life when he wasn’t anyone’s. 
John nudges him. “What?”
Sherlock shakes his head. “Nothing.” But he takes John’s hand and laces their fingers together, feeling the reassuring click as their wedding rings bump against each other. 
John just gives him a look. After twenty years of marriage, John is very good at telling when Sherlock is bullshitting, and he’s even better at calling him on it.
Sherlock looks in the direction of the delivery room, where his little girl is having a little girl of her very own. Where his daughter is becoming a mother, when she never had one.
“Do you sometimes wonder, what might have been?” he asks quietly, without looking at John. “If our girl had ever had a mother?”
John says nothing for a moment, but he’s rubbing his thumb over Sherlock’s wedding ring, probably an unconscious gesture, but a welcome one. “I… don’t think that was ever an option,” John finally says, obviously picking his words very carefully. “I think Mary gave her all she had to give. She carried her, gave birth to her, loved her for a bit. But Mary wasn’t the type to go the distance. To be there for her, no matter what. To be there for us, no matter what.” John gives Sherlock a significant look. “You don’t become a parent by contributing to the gene pool. You know this. You become a parent by showing up for them and sticking around, even when they barf on your shoes and blame you for every pimple on their face.”
Sherlock swallows, still after so many years unsure how he got so lucky. 
“Not lucky,” John says quietly, and Sherlock wonders if he said the thought aloud, but maybe John just knows him really well. “This,” he holds up their joined hands, “has nothing to do with luck. This is commitment, and effort, and force of will, and sometimes, sheer bloody-minded stubbornness.”
“God knows we’ve got that in spades,” Sherlock says, giving John a small smile, squeezing John’s hand in silent gratitude. 
“That little girl will be the most thick-headed human being ever to walk the Earth,” John answers, grinning now, a proud grandfather to be. “Imagine, your stubbornness, mine, and Rosie’s combined.”
“No wonder this is taking so long,” Sherlock says.
John laughs, and whatever melancholy came over Sherlock dissolves with the familiar, soothing sound of John’s happiness. 
It’s difficult to imagine, now. That it was ever any different. That there was a time when Sherlock was unsure of his place, at John’s side, in Rosie’s life. But John is right. They didn’t get here by luck. They put in the work, all three of them. They’re a family not by blood, but by choice. By vow. By force of will. 
John is eating his Mars bar with relish. “Relax,” he says, leaning his head against Sherlock’s shoulder as they settle in to wait. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
Sherlock rests his cheek against John’s hair and inhales the soothing scent of his husband’s shampoo and caramel. “Can I have a bite of your Mars bar?”
John’s laughter is as sweet as the caramel. 
Sherlock closes his eyes and smiles as he feels calm finally return. Soon they’ll have another little girl to spoil, to protect, to be there for, to argue with. A new life, a new journey. 
And Sherlock can’t wait to begin.
----------------
Tags under the cut as usual, as always please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.
@calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @jrow @peanitbear @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @weesi @helloliriels @salmonsown @riversong912 @givemesherbet-blog-blog
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apollosfavkiddo · 1 day
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⛧° i hate you more. episode 1
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⛧° Beginning. Sort of.
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content: jason grace x daughter of apollo!reader
warnings: cursing, 3rd person writing.
a/n: look who's spoiling you today? so, be welcomed to the first episode of my first ever series! i honestly hope you like it. by the way, i copied it from this fic on wattpad, cause i don't have the digital book. good reading!
word count: +6.6k
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She didn’t know why she hated Jason. She just had that feeling deep in her gut ever since they “met” in that stupid bus to the Wilderness School, when she couldn’t remember her own name nor where she came from.   
The only thing her stupid mind remembered is that she really didn’t like the boy sitting beside her. He seemed so… perfect. Like, the annoying type of perfect. The type of perfect that makes anyone fawn over you.   
With that stupid messy blond hair, that stupid tanned skin and stupid strong arms, she just knew she disliked him, a very lot.   
When he opened his eyes, the first thing they saw was her sea green gaze analyzing him. He grimaced immediately, as if realizing that he hated you too.   
And suddenly, something came to her. Jason. That’s his name?   
“Finally the sleeping beauties are up, huh?” A boy that looked like a latino gremlin with pointy ears teased. The girl beside him slapped him playfully on the arm.   
“Shut up, Leo. Let the couple.” The girl in the front seat said, giggling ever so slightly.   
‘Couple’? She and blondie were a couple? When she heard those words, she finally realized the position they were in.   
Her head was laid on his shoulder, and it seemed like they had fallen asleep like that. He had a small wet stain on the sleeve of his shirt, that looked a lot like drool, probably hers. But the weirdest part of it all was that they were holding hands. Like, intertwined level.   
She immediately let go and pulled away from him, her mind still dizzy and groggy from the slumber she was in.   
“What the-“ She mumbled, trying to pull herself from that sleepy state she was in, but the boy beside her reacted first  
“Y/n?” He asked, staring right into her eyes. He also seemed to instantly dislike her.   
“Listen here, cupcakes!” A squeaky voice yelled out from the front of the bus. She drifted her eyes towards where the sound came from.   
It was clearly the baseball coach. He wore a cap pulled low in his hair. Had a weird stubble and sour face, as if he had eaten something rotten. A whistle hung from his neck and there was a megaphone clipped to his belt. He’d be fairly scary if he wasn’t five foot zero.   
“Stand up, Coach Hedge!” A student jeered.   
“I hear that!” His eyes scanned over the bus as if looking for the culprit, but his eyes locked at Jason and Y/n. His scowl deepened, and she realized that the tiny man knew that they shouldn’t be there. She got scared for a few seconds if he was going to call them and ask how the hell did they got there. She had no idea what she would answer in that case.    
The man looked away, clearing his throat. "We'll arrive in five minutes! Stay with your partner. Don't lose your worksheet. And if any of you precious little cupcakes cause any trouble on this trip, I will personally send you back to campus the hard way." He mimed hitting a homerun with a wooden baseball bat.  
“Can he talk to us like that?” The blond boy - Jason - asked, but this time directed to the other two people sitting in front of him.   
The pretty girl just shrugged him off. “Always does. This is the Wilderness School. ‘Where kids are the animals’.” She said, grinning as if this was some sort of joke that the pair was supposed to be on.   
“This is some kind of mistake.” Y/n said, finally sitting up straight. “I… I shouldn’t be here.”  
“Yeah, right.” Latino Gremlin - Leo - spoke up again. “We’ve all been framed. I didn’t run away six times. You didn’t blow up a gas station. Piper didn’t steal a BMW.”   
That last one earned him a harder slap, but this time with no hint of playfulness, from the pretty girl named Piper. “I didn’t steal that car, Leo!”   
Piper and Leo, Y/n thought. Are we friends?  
"Oh, I forgot, Piper. What was your story? You 'talked' the dealer into lending it to you?" He raised an eyebrow at Jason, as if to say can you believe her?  
Piper looked at Y/n with hopeful eyes, as if she was supposed to believe her or back her up, but as far as she knew, she'd never met the girl before today. Still, Piper looked at her and talked to her and Jason as if they'd been friends long enough to share an inside joke and maybe a few secrets.  
What the hell is going on?  
"Anyway," Leo said, "I hope you've got your worksheet, Jason, cause I used mine for spit wads days ago." He looked up from fidgeting with the buttons of his army jacket, frowning at Jason's confused stare. "Why are you looking at me like that? Somebody draw on my face again? Piper, I swear -"  
"I don't know you," Jason said.  
“As much as I hate to agree with blondie here,” Y/n said, grimacing at the boy beside her as he rolled his eyes. “but I don’t know you either.”   
Leo rolled his eyes with an amused grin. "Sure. I'm not your best friend, I'm his evil twin," he joked.  
"Leo Valdez!" Coach Hedge yelled from the front. "Problem back there?"  
Leo winked at Jason and Y/n. "Watch this." He turned back toward the front of the bus. "Sorry, Coach! I was having trouble hearing you. Could you use your megaphone, please?"  
The coach unclipped his megaphone and continued calling out instructions, but his voice was distorted.  
The students cracked up, growing louder as the coach tried again and the megaphone blared: "The cow says moo!"  
"Valdez!" Coach Hedge yelled.  
Piper stifled a laugh. "How did you do that?"  
Leo flashed a tiny screwdriver at them before returning it to his sleeve. "I'm a special boy."  
"Guys, seriously," Jason said, his tone pleading. "What are we doing here? Where are we going?" 
Y/n looked expectantly at the two students in front of them, hoping whatever answer they gave would jog her memory, though those hopes weren't particularly high.  
"Are you guys joking?" Piper asked, her eyebrows furrowed in vague concern.  
“No! I have no idea who you- “Y/n began, but Leo cut her off almost immediately.   
“Of course they’re joking, Pipes. They’re trying to get me back on interrupting they make out sesh last year, aren’t ya’? I already said sorry, guys. I’d never walk in on you two on my own accord, trust. Don’t wanna be traumatized.”   
Y/n immediately felt her cheeks heat up, but she didn’t know if it was from anger or embarrassment. She grimaced again as if she tasted something sour out of nowhere.   
“Uhm, I'm sorry to disappoint but, uh…” She hesitated a bit before glancing at the blond boy beside her. He didn’t seem too bad, but she still had that feeling deep in her gut that she hated him. “I’d never make out with him.”  
The boy just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Like I'm the worst option between me and you.”   
Piper and Leo glanced at each other with confused expressions. They couldn’t understand what was happening between their friends.   
“Uh… okay… what’s going on here? Why are you two bickering as if you aren’t completely in love with each other?” Leo asked.   
“In what?” Y/n asked, her voice laced with disgust and disbelief. 
“Not possible. At all.” He added, shaking his head eagerly.  
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Y/n said, exasperatedly.  
“Leo. I think they’re serious.” Piper said, as if you two weren’t right in front of her and listening to every bit of conversation they had.  
“We are!” Jason insisted. “Well, at least I am. Don’t know ‘bout her.” He said, pointing discretely at Y/n, who hissed and elbowed him on the ribs. “Ow!”  
“Oh, please-”   
“That’s it!” Coach Hedge yelled from the front. “The back row has just volunteered to clean up after lunch!”  
The rest of the kids cheered as Leo muttered, "There's a shocker." 
Piper's concerned gaze flickered between Jason and Y/n. "Did you guys hit your heads or something? You really don't know who we are?" 
Y/n shook her head, Jason following suit. 
Helplessly, he muttered, "I don't even know who I am." 
Piper frowned. "Do you remember each other?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. 
Y/n met Jason's eyes with disgust. She knew that she knew him, but she didn't have any memories of him besides the sound of his name and the feeling that they hated each other. Quietly, she said, "Maybe?" 
Jason nodded, reluctantly. 
"Huh," Piper said, her brows furrowed together in a picture of deep thought. “Let’s figure this out later, we’re already here.” 
༺♱༻ 
The bus dropped them off in front of a large red museum, which sat in the middle of nowhere. All Yn could see was desert everywhere she looked. A cold wind blew over them, making her shiver. She wasn't dressed for the cold weather - she had on a pair of dark-wash blue jeans, worn black combat boots, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt that was about two sizes too big for her. Despite how comfortable it was, though, it wasn't nearly warm enough for the biting cold nipping at her fingers. 
"Alright, crash course for the amnesiacs," Leo said. 
"We go to the Wilderness School, which means we're the ‘bad kids.' Your family, or the court, or whoever, decided you were too much trouble, so they shipped you off to this lovely prison - sorry, 'boarding school' - in Armpit, Nevada, where you learn valuable nature skills like running ten miles a day through the cacti and weaving daisies into hats! And for a special treat we go on 'educational' field trips with Coach Hedge, who keeps order with a baseball bat. Is it all coming back to you guys?" 
Y/n shook her head and muttered a small “No.” 
She looked at the kids around them, wondering what they'd all done to be sentenced to a school for delinquents - and what she had done to get sent there, too. 
Leo rolled his eyes. "You're really gonna play this out, huh? Okay, so the four of us started here together this semester. We're totally tight. Jason does everything I say, gives me his dessert, does my chores -" 
"Leo!" Piper scolded. 
"Fine, ignore that last part. But we are friends - and we have fun, at least when you two aren't busy sucking face or having those intense-looking, deep talks where you talk about life and the future and whether those children's books with the bears are called Berenstein or Berenstain-" 
"Leo, stop it!" Piper said. "I think they have amnesia or something. We've got to tell someone." 
Leo scoffed. "Who, Coach Hedge? He'd try to fix them by whacking them with his baseball bat." 
The coach was at the front of the group, barking orders and blowing his whistle to keep the kids in line. Every few minutes he'd glance back at Jason and Y/n and scowl. 
"Leo, they need help," Piper insisted. "They could be concussed or-" 
"Yo, Piper." One of the other guys in their group dropped back to join the four teenagers as they headed into the museum. He wedged himself between Piper and Y/n, throwing an arm around Piper's shoulders. "Don't talk to these bottom-feeders. You're my partner, remember?" 
"Go away, Dylan," Piper grumbled. "Y/n/n's my partner, not you." 
The new guy looked at Y/n, something strange flashing over his face before he replaced it with a blinding grin. "Coach said there'll have to be a group of three, what with the odd number, so it's both of your lucky days!" He threw his other arm around Y/n's shoulders, and she bristled immediately, something like dread settling heavily in her stomach. As he dragged Piper and Y/n away from Jason and Leo, she glanced back at them one last time, meeting Jason's eyes for a moment and rolling her own before Dylan was walking her and Piper deeper into the museum. 
༺♱༻ 
Y/n didn't need her memories to know she hated guys like Dylan. She met him barely five minutes ago and she already wanted to punch him to unconsciousness for several different reasons, and she didn’t think she was a violent person. Then again, she didn’t remember even who she was, so her opinion of herself wasn’t truthful. The boy kept his attention focused on Piper, which shouldn’t bother Y/n. But she saw the look of discomfort in Piper’s face every time he spoke with her and touched her. 
Everything, without exception, that came out of the guy's mouth was either a flirty remark or something cocky about himself that neither of the girls really wanted to hear. Less than five minutes around him and she already knew everything there was to know about him – he was cocky, egocentric, an asshole and rude.  
Y/ noticed some of the other girls in their group kept looking in their direction and snickering. One of them called out, "Hey, Piper, does your tribe run this place? Do you get in free if you do a rain dance?" 
The other girls giggled, and even Dylan suppressed a smile. Y/n’s fists clenched at her sides as she glared at him. She was beginning to think that maybe she got sent into that damned school because of fighting, since she was this close to knocking Dylan’s perfect teeth out of his face. Or punch those racists bitches right on the face. Both were tempting options.  
"My dad's Cherokee," Piper said through her teeth. "Not Hualapai. 'Course, you'd need a few brain cells to know the difference, Isabel." 
Isabel feigned a look of surprise. "Oh, sorry. Was it your mom in this tribe? Oh, that's right. You never knew your mom." 
Y/n had to dig her nails deep in her hand, so she didn’t punch that Isabel girl right in the face. For some reason that, like everything in her life right now, she didn’t know why, she knew the perfect spot and strength to punch Isabel and knock her out. 
Really useful knowledge you decided to keep, brain.  
Piper charged at Isabel and y/n was right behind her, but before a fight could break out, Coach Hedge barked, "Enough back there! Set a good example or I'll break out my baseball bat!" 
The teenage racists kept calling out little comments to Piper as they made their way through the museum. Y/n quickly flipped them off and muttered something in a language she recognized but didn’t know which one was it.  
Sooner rather than later, Y/n snapped, "Are you going to shut your mouths voluntarily or am I going to have to break each of your fragile little jaws to get you to shut up?" 
The gaggle of girls rolled their eyes at Y/n’s threat, as if they doubted she'd follow through with it. Piper grabbed Y/n’s arm before she could make good on her threat. "Where'd that come from?" Piper asked, raising an eyebrow. 
"They're a bunch of little bitches." she muttered. "They deserve to get more than just their jaws broken."  
Piper gave her a small smile, hooking her arm around Y/n's. "Thanks for defending my honor," she said. "But I’m sure I can take care of myself, babes." 
Despite her lack of memories, Y/n didn't doubt that for a second. 
After more walking, the group of students stopped in front of a set of large glass doors that led out to a terrace. "Alright, cupcakes," Coach Hedge said loudly. 
"You are about to see the Grand Canyon. Try not to break it. The skywalk can hold the weight of seventy jumbo jets, so you featherweights should be safe out there. If possible, try to avoid pushing each other over the edge, as that would cause me extra paperwork." 
They all stepped outside onto the skywalk. The Grand Canyon spread out before them, huge and unforgiving in its depth. Y/n glanced over the side of the skywalk railing, flinching and quickly stepping back when she felt the flip of her stomach.  
Thunder rumbled overhead, and a cold wind washed over the skywalk, making Y/n shiver. Piper, turning away from Dylan, asked with a teasing smile, 
"Jason's sweatshirt not warm enough for you?" 
“What?!” Y/n glanced down, her cheeks burning as she realized why the sweatshirt was too big for her. Annoyedly, she took it off and said, "Me and Jason, we're... dating?" 
Piper raised her eyebrows at her once again. "You seriously don't remember? You guys have been together since before me and Leo even met you - you guys came here together at the start of the semester." 
Y/n frowned, beyond frustrated by the fact that she was dating the only person that she remembered both the name and how annoying he was.  
Piper's eyes were concerned as she looked Y/n over. "How about Leo and I take you to the nurse when we get back to campus?" she offered. "She might be able to... I don't know, figure it out?" 
She felt, deep in her gut, that the school nurse wouldn’t be able to figure out what was going on with her lack of memories, but she nodded anyway. "Thanks," she said quietly. She couldn't remember Piper at all, but she wished she could - Piper seemed like a good friend. 
Piper worked on the worksheet they'd apparently been assigned to complete during their field trip. Neither Dylan nor Y/n helped her, but Y/n felt like her excuse - namely not even remembering her own last name, much less what the definition of mechanical erosion was - was a lot better than Dylan's, which seemed to be that he was simply a fucking bastard. 
Instead of helping with the worksheet, Dylan was hitting on Piper, touching her shoulder and flashing her that stupid smile. After the fifth time Piper pushed him away, Y/n shoved her way between them, her head barely reaching his shoulder.  
"Quit," she snapped. 
Dylan rolled his eyes, but that something from before flashed through his eyes again. It made her skin prickle with goosebumps and filled her with anxiety. And, again, that stupid feeling told her that lots of things filled her with anxiety. 
Something told her Dylan's worst quality wasn't his inability to take no for an answer, and that made the dread in her stomach grow heavier. 
She saw Jason talking to the coach, and she noted the look of relief on his face as the two spoke. She would have gone over to join them, but she didn't want to leave Piper alone with Dylan or to be near Jason voluntarily, so she stayed where she was, glancing over the worksheet in Piper's hands and wincing at the headache trying to read it triggered. 
Lightning crackled loudly overhead, the cold wind picking up speed and strength. Worksheets flew into the Grand Canyon, theirs practically being torn out of Piper's hands by a gust of wind. The bridge underneath their feet shuddered and kids screamed, stumbling and grabbing the rails on either side of the skywalk. 
Ophelia held the railing so tightly, her knuckles turned white, and she purposefully kept her eyes forward, not letting them stray toward the bottom of the canyon thousands of feet below them. 
She almost immediately felt the tears forming in the corners of her eyelids when she looked down – not on purpose – and made a quick realization that if she fell, she’d die.  
The coach yelled for them to go back inside. The storm clouds that had been lingering overhead churned like a miniature hurricane. The students around her screamed and ran for the building, which was only a few feet away from Y/n and her group. Piper and Dylan ran for the doors, holding them open and herding the crowd of teenagers inside. Y/n stood frozen on the skywalk, fingers tight around the railing. 
She reached into her front pocket, not sure what she was reaching for. But what she did find was a small, cold hard metal. She pulled it from her jeans.  
It was a key, made of what looked like solid gold. 
Why did she have a gold key in her pocket? 
What did it open? 
Apparently, she was in a school for delinquents - had she stolen it? 
Y/n looked up at the sound of the doors slamming shut, Piper and Dylan having lost their grips. Aside from her and the two of them, Jason, Leo, and Coach Hedge were the only other people on the skywalk. Great. A jackass, a jock, a little latino gremlin, a five-foot male, a beauty queen and a girl who wasn’t even sure her name was Y/n. Couldn’t be better.  
Piper struggled with the doors, trying to open them back up, but they seemed to be stuck. "Dylan, help!" Piper shouted over the raging winds. 
"Sorry, Piper," he said, standing there with a malicious grin like he was enjoying the sudden storm. "I'm done helping." He flicked his wrist and Piper went flying backward, slamming into the doors and sliding to the floor. Y/n tried to run toward her, but the wind was fighting against her. Dylan looked at her, smirking at her struggle, and flicked his wrist again, sending her backward toward Jason, Leo, and the coach. 
Jason caught her around the waist before she could fall all the way to the ground, steadying her. She immediately got away from his touch, glaring daggers at him – who just rolled his eyes.  
"Stay behind me," Coach Hedge ordered. "This is my fight. I should've known that was our monster." 
"Monster?" Y/n questioned. 
"What?" Leo demanded. A flying worksheet smacked him in the face and he swatted it away. "What monster?" 
Coach Hedge's cap blew off, and Y/n was beyond shocked to see two horns sticking up above his curly hair. He lifted his baseball bat, but it was different. It had somehow changed into a tree-branch club, with a few twigs and leaves still attached. “What the fu-” 
Dylan grinned like a psycho. "Oh, come on, Coach, let the boy attack me!" he mocked. "After all, you're getting too old for this. Isn't that why they retired you to this stupid school? I've been on your team the entire season, and you didn't even know. You're losing your nose, grandpa." 
Coach Hedge let out a sound that was like a goat bleating angrily. "That's it, cupcake - you're going down." 
"You think you can protect four half-bloods at once, old man?" Dylan laughed. "Good luck." 
Uh- What?! Half-bloods? 
Dylan pointed at Leo and Y/n watched in horror as a funnel cloud materialized around the curly-haired boy. He flew off the skywalk like he'd been tossed, somehow managing to twist in midair and slam sideways into the canyon wall. He skids, clawing furiously for a handhold, finally grabbing a thin ledge about fifty feet below the skywalk. "Help!" he yelled up at them. "Rope, please? Bungee cord? Something?" 
Coach Hedge cursed and tossed Jason his club. "I don't know who you are, kid, but I hope you're good. Keep that thing busy" — he stabbed a thump in Dylan's direction-"while I get Leo." 
"Get him how?" Jason demanded. "You going to fly?" 
"Not fly. Climb." The coach kicked off his tennis shoes, revealing hooves instead of feet. That settled it – Y/n had officially lost her mind. 
"You're a faun," she said, not sure where the knowledge came but sure it was the truth. 
Coach Hedge looked at her with a suspicious glint in his eye. "Satyr!" he snapped. "Fauns are Roman. But we'll talk about that later." He leaped over the railing, sailing toward the canyon wall and hitting it hooves first. 
"Isn't that cute!" Dylan turned toward Jason. "Now it's your turn, boy." 
Jason threw the coach's club, which seemed kind of useless with the winds raging around them, but it flew right at Dylan, even curving when he tried to dodge it, and it smacked him in the head hard enough to bring him to his knees. 
She didn't even feel sorry for the satisfaction that flooded her at the sight. Maybe a little, but that was because Jason is a prick.  
Y/n noticed Piper feigning a dazed appearance, her fingers closing around the club when it reached her, but before she could use it, Dylan rose. Blood-gold blood-trickled from the wound on his forehead. 
"Nice try, boy," he said, glaring at Jason. "But you'll have to do better." 
His body dissolved into smoke, which was a decidedly freaky sight. He rose like an evil angel made entirely of smoke. The sight gave Y/n the strangest sense of déjà vu. 
"You're a ventus," Jason said. "A storm spirit." 
Dylan laughed. "I'm glad I waited, demigod. Leo and Piper I've known about for weeks. Could've killed them any time. But my mistress said two more were coming, said they were special. She'll reward me greatly for your deaths." 
Four funnel clouds touched down, two on either side of Dylan, each of them turning into venti-ghostly young men with smoky wings and eyes that flickered with lightning. 
“Oh great,” Y/n muttered to herself, clutching the key in her hand. “just fucking great. It wasn’t enough one wind-man, it had to come four more, because life is already great.”  
Piper was still down, pretending to be incapacitated, but she looked determined to fight. Jason stood tall, like a warrior, staring at the five venti without a shred of fear in his eyes. But he was unarmed - there was no way he could take on the storm spirits without a weapon. 
A weapon. 
Y/n frowned, looking down at the key that was still in her hand. She took a closer look, and it had something that looked a lot like an insignia. She didn’t know what it meant, but she swiped her thumb over the inscriptions on the metal. She blinked, and the key was gone.  
In its place was a sword made entirely of gold. 
Dylan frowned, a look of angry confusion flashing through his stormy eyes. "Where did you get that?" he demanded. 
Who knows, Y/n thought. But I'm definitely not complaining. 
She moved into a familiar stance, her eyes settled on Dylan's smoky form. Just as she was about to charge toward him, Dylan raised his hand, arcs of electricity running between his fingers. Y/n barely had time to be scared before Jason was pushing her out of the way, the lightning bolt meant for her blasting through his chest. 
Y/n watched in horror as the blond boy she'd woken up next to barely an hour ago flew backward, taking a hit that had been meant for her. A single spot on her chest blazed like she'd been branded, filling her with fury. She looked back at Dylan, releasing a furious shout as she charged toward him and his storm spirit companions, vengeance moving her limbs forward. 
She met the closest storm spirit head-on, her body agile as she thrust her sword at the spirit, the thing in question just barely getting out of the way. Y/n feigned right, then moved left and stabbed her sword through the smoky mass in front of her. To her amazement, the storm spirit dissolved into some kind of golden powder. 
Dylan shouted something, his tone furious. Y/n ignored him as another ventus charged her. She planted her feet and brought her arms close to her chest, gritting her teeth as she felt the cold wind wash over her. It only pushed her back a foot before the gust passed her, and she charged at the spirit again, moving like she was a dancer performing a piece she'd done so many times it was muscle memory. Her sword pierced through the spirit and it, too, turned into gold dust. 
“Suck it!” She shouted excitedly.  
A few feet away, Piper was trying to fend off the other two storm spirits, but they were dancing around her, toying with her. Y/n moved to go help her, but a voice stopped her in her tracks. 
"Stop." Y/n looked back in shock to see Jason rising unsteadily to his feet. His shirt was covered in soot, and he was missing a shoe, but all in all, he looked pretty good for a guy who'd just been struck by lightning. 
“What the fu-” Y/n began, for the second time. And, for the second time, Dylan interrupted her.  
"How are you alive?" Dylan demanded, his form flickering. "That was enough lightning to kill twenty men!" 
"My turn," Jason said, a lethal look in his eyes. Y/n watched him reach into his pocket, taking out a gold coin and flipping it in the air. It transformed into a gold sword, not too different from the one Y/n’s key had turned into. 
Dylan snarled in agitation, backing up. He looked at the two remaining spirits and yelled, "Well? Kill him!" 
The spirits left Piper alone, flying at Jason with their fingers crackling with electricity. He took the first one out within seconds, his gold sword turning it into dust. 
The second let loose a bolt of lightning, but Jason's sword absorbed the charge. With one quick thrust, the second spirit was reduced to dust as well. 
Dylan wailed in outrage. "Impossible!" he shouted over the wind. His glare flickered from Jason to Y/n, settling on Jason. "Who are you, half-bloods?" 
“Who cares? I’m better than you.” Y/n said, smirking, proposedly cutting Jason off the sentence.  
Piper looked stunned. "Y/n, Jason, how...?" 
Coach Hedge leaped onto the skywalk, dumping Leo before bellowing, "Spirits, fear me!" Then he looked around and realized Dylan was the only one left. 
"Curse it, boy," he snapped at Jason. "Didn't you leave some for me? I like a challenge!" 
Y/n frowned, a little peeved the faun thought Jason killed all four of the storm spirits by himself. 
"Hey, I took out just as many as he did," she muttered. 
Leo got to his feet, breathing heavily. "Yo, Coach Supergoat, whatever you are - I just fell down the freaking Grand Canyon! Stop asking for challenges!" 
Dylan hissed at him, but there was fear in his eyes. Or whatever those were.  
"You have no idea how many enemies you've awakened, half-bloods. My mistress will destroy all demigods. This war you cannot win." 
Above them, the storm exploded into a full-force gale. 
Cracks expanded in the skywalk, sheets of rain pouring down on them. If Y/n hadn't been cold before, she was fucking freezing now. Especially because she was too proud to wear Jason’s purple sweatshirt. 
A hole opened up in the clouds, and Dylan looked up at it. "The mistress calls me back!" he shouted with glee. "And you, demigod, will come with me!" 
He lunged at Jason, but Y/n moved fast, pushing Jason to the side and raising her sword to attack. The spirit yelled with rage, letting loose a torrent that knocked them all backward. The worst of it hit Y/n. The wind knocked her sword out of her hand, and she watched it clatter noisily to the glass floor of the skywalk. Her back hit the railing and she lost her balance, tumbling over. She managed to grab the railing with her left hand as she hung over the abyss below her. 
Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, she chanted internally. 
She closed her eyes tightly, the tears rapidly making their way into her eyelids.  
She could hear her name being screamed, could hear the unmistakable grunts and shouting of a fight, but she was a little busy trying to keep her faltering grip on the railing to pay her surroundings much attention. 
Her fingers slipped, and with a shout in a language that did not sound like English, she was plummeting to her death.  
She couldn’t move. She just accepted her fate, the upcoming death. Her clothes and hair were flying in the opposite direction, and she could only hope that, maybe, dying wouldn’t hurt as much as she thought it did. She didn’t scream. She just... let it happen.  
She wondered briefly if she was hallucinating when she saw Jason diving off the skywalk after her, rocketing down to her. She wasn’t. He tackled Y/n’s waist and pulled her close to his chest. 
Great, he’s stupid enough and now we're both gonna die, she thought. 
But to her astonishment, the wind suddenly died around them. She opened her eyes, the tears still flowing down her face, seeing Jason's face a few inches above hers, his eyes shut tightly. They were hovering in the air about fifty feet above the river at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. 
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Y/n breathed. His eyes opened, and he looked around them, taking in their position with wide blue eyes. 
"Whoa," he whispered, his gaze moving to meet Y/n’s. She wanted to hug him, even if the only thing she remembered was hating him. Y/didn't remember ever meeting Jason, but she knew him. She couldn't explain how, but she did. And she did not like him.  
Jason looked up. The rain had stopped, and the storm clouds seemed to have calmed a little. He looked back at Y/n. "Hold onto me," he told her, repositioning himself so he was hugging her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to ignore how inexplicably right the closeness with him felt. 
Jason looked up again, and they suddenly surged toward the sky. He held her tight as they flew back up to the skywalk. As soon as their feet touched the skywalk, they ran to Piper and Leo. 
Piper stared at Y/n and Jason as if they'd turned into horrifying mutants during their trip into the Grand Canyon. "How did you...?" 
"Apparently, I can fly," Jason said quietly. 
“And I'm afraid of heights.” Y/n muttered. "Is he okay?" She asked Piper, looking at Leo, whose curly hair was covered in gold dust. 
Before Piper could answer, Leo muttered, "Stupid... ugly... goat." 
"Where did he go?" Jason asked. 
Leo pointed straight up. "Never came down. Please tell me he didn't actually save my life." 
"Twice," Jason told him. 
Leo groaned even louder. "What happened? The tornado guy, those gold swords... I hit my head. That's it, right? I'm hallucinating?" 
The look on Piper's expression seemed like she wanted to agree. 
Jason walked over to where his sword was, picking it up and flipping it. Mid-spin, it shrank back into a gold coin and landed in his palm. 
Jason picked up Y/n’s sword. He handed it to her, and she took it, not gratefully, looking at it for a moment. She took a closer look at the hilt, and the same insignia that was in the key was in her sword. She slipped the pad of her thumb over it, and it turned back to a key.  
"Yep," Leo said. "Definitely hallucinating." 
Piper looked at Y/n as if she'd never seen her before - so not much different to how Ophelia had looked at her when she first woke up. "Those things-" 
"Venti," Ophelia said. "Storm spirits." 
"Okay. You acted like... like you'd seen them before." 
She looked from Y/n to Jason. "Who are you guys?" 
Jason shook his head. "That's what we've been trying to tell you. We don't know." 
The storm dissipated above them. The other kids from the Wilderness School were staring out the glass doors in horror as security guards worked on the locks. It didn't look like they were having much luck. 
"Coach Hedge said he had to protect four people," Jason said. "I think he meant us." 
"And that thing Dylan turned into..." Piper shuddered. "God, I can't believe it was hitting on me. He called us... what, demigods?" 
Leo laid down, staring up at the sky. "I don't know what demi means, but I'm not feeling too godly. You guys feeling godly?" 
"Not particularly," Ophelia admitted. 
There was a sound like twigs snapping, and the cracks in the skywalk began to widen. 
"We need to get off this thing," Jason said. "Maybe if we—" 
"Ooo-kay," Leo interrupted. "Look up and tell me if those are flying horses." 
Y/n looked up to see a dark shape descending from the east. As it got closer, she saw a pair of winged horses, with massive wingspans. They pulled a brightly colored chariot behind them, and there were two figures inside of it. 
“What the fuck?” Y/n said, finally concluding her thought.  
"Reinforcements," Jason said, meeting Y/n’s eyes. For the first time, she didn’t pull away. "Hedge told me an extraction squad was coming for us." 
"Extraction squad?" Leo struggled to his feet with Piper's help. "That sounds painful." 
"And where are they extracting us to?" Piper asked. 
The chariot landed on the far end of the skywalk. The flying horses seemed uneasy as they stepped on the glass, as if they knew it was about to break. Two teenagers stood in the chariot - a tall blonde girl and a bulky guy with a buzzcut. They both wore jeans and obnoxious orange T-shirts with some kind of logo on the front. The girl leaped off before the chariot had even finished moving, pulling a knife and running toward their group as the guy reined in the horses. 
"Where is he?" the girl demanded, her gray eyes fierce and intimidating. 
"Where's who?" Jason asked. 
She frowned like his answer was unacceptable. She turned to Leo and Piper. "What about Gleeson? Where is your protector, Gleeson Hedge?" 
Leo cleared his throat. "He got taken by some... tornado things." 
"Venti," Y/n said. "Storm spirits." 
The blonde girl arched an eyebrow at her. "You mean anemoi thuellai? That's the Greek term." Her gaze flickered from Y/n to Jason. "Who are you, and what happened?" 
Y/n let Jason explain. When he was done, the blondie didn't look satisfied. "No, no, no! She told me he would be here. She told me if I came here, I'd find the answer." 
"Annabeth," the guy with the buzzeut grumbled, having joined them halfway through Jason's explanation. He pointed at Jason's feet. "Check it out." 
Jason's left shoe was still missing, having been blown off by the lightning bolt he took to the chest. 
"The guy with one shoe," the guy said. "He's the answer." 
"No, Butch," the girl – Annabeth - insisted. "He can't be. I was tricked." She glared at the sky as if it had personally offended her. "What do you want from me?" she screamed. "What have you done with him?" 
The skywalk beneath them shuddered. 
"Annabeth," Butch said, "we gotta leave. Let's get these guys to camp and figure it out there. Those storm spirits might come back." 
"Fine," Annabeth muttered. She fixed Jason with a resentful glare, and Y/n bristled, moving to clutch her key in her pocket. 
The girl turned on her heel and marched back to the chariot. 
"What's her problem?" Piper asked. "What's going on?" 
"Seriously," Leo agreed. 
"We have to get you out of here," Butch said. "I'll explain on the way." 
"That girl looks like she wants to kill Jason," Y/n muttered, eyeing the girl's distant figure with distrustful eyes. “Don’t really judge. I’d want to do that too.”  
Butch hesitated. "Annabeth's okay," he assured them. "You gotta cut her some slack. She had a vision telling her to come here, to find a guy with one shoe. That was supposed to be the answer to her problem." 
"What problem?" Piper asked. 
"She's been looking for one of our campers, who's been missing three days," Butch said, his expression grim. 
"She's going out of her mind with worry. She hoped he'd be here." 
"Who?" Jason asked. 
"Her boyfriend," Butch said. "A guy named Percy Jackson." 
74 notes · View notes
astroknottt · 24 hours
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ASTRO ! I’ve been reading @/ bluegiragi & @/ gnomlord’s monster au for a quiet awhile now and I’m in love with honestly. I love mythical creatures and monsters so much, but I’ve been thinking of Orc M!reader a lot as well.
TW ! Monster Au ( Orc! mreader )
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You’re an absolute machine on the field, not so quick on your feet but monstrous in size and strength—your pure strength and brute mentality. Sure stories portray you as a monster with the brain the size of a peanut but you’ve proven those theories wrong.
Price isn’t an expert with your kind. Sure both your species have existed during the same time period but that did not mean you interacted with one another. Price knew more about your species than you did his, he knew how war and your kind went together like a hog and shit. You were perfect for the profession.
It takes some time for the boys to get use to you. You’re different, different from anything they’ve encountered and they’ve had their share of weird shit.
The moment you stepped foot off of the plane, Captain Price was the first one to greet you. Your stature was everything that thought it would be, in size and muscle—fat filling in all the right places. When you speak it feels like the earth rumbles beneath their feet, a voice that’s deep and carries a guttural, low, and gravely timbre.
You weren’t green which takes him by surprise, you look slightly more human albeit your inhuman features. Like the lower cainines that protrude from inside of your mouth like tusk, your lupine like ears that stand pointed at the ends as if you were some fairy, littered with many piercings, and your hellish build. Slanted eyes that boar a piercing red color that surely sent a small chill down the dragons spines.
You’re not what they expected. A hideous green tank, that drooled every time he spoke, an ignorant beer and pot bellied beast with balls for brains, a creature who thinks of nothing but food and breeding. A hideous man like beast who only plagued on about war and eating humans. He didn’t know much of the kind, but he has enough. Honestly Gaz thought your kind was completely wiped out.
Soap couldn’t say the same. He remembers the horrors his parents would tell him stories about when he was nothing but a wee lad. The stories of ogres and goblins alike, their sadistic tendencies and how they would ravage through villages in Scotland like nothing, eating anything in their wake and killing until there was nothing left. The moment he heard there was an orc joining their team, he couldn’t help the way his lip curled into a snarl—a growl of hatred tumbling past his lips. He was against it but he kept quiet.
Ghost would watch you from afar, slightly threatened by what he didn’t understand. You’re not ignorant, but a skilled soldier on and off the field. You listen to orders and do what you’re told quietly easily, you’re able to lead those underneath you like it’s a simple task. Ghost realizes that there is some sort of line that constantly blurs when it comes to man and beats with you and he understands. He watches that line fade on the field continuously.
© ASTROKNOTT ™ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 !
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jamespotterbbg · 2 days
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may 7 - secret relationship - @wolfstarmicrofic - 566 words
Sirius was fourteen when he had his first relationship. Mary Macdonald, the prettiest girl in his house, he thought.
She had nervously asked him out, down by the Black Lake, a little love confession written on a card she had in her hand. She presented it to him, holding it out and looking at her feet nervously. 
Sirius took the card and read it, smiling, “I like you too,” he said, only half sure. She had grinned and took his hand in hers, shakily. Her hands were warm, he remembered.
They dated for three weeks. They took walks together and she drew little hearts on the tops of his notes in class. He liked her, she was nice.
She was his first girlfriend, she kissed him on the cheek for good luck before his game. She cheered him on in the crowd with her friends. They broke up pretty amicably, about as simply as they had started.
Sirius was fifteen when he had his first kiss. He was dating Fabian Prewett, who had asked him out after they flirted at a Gryffindor house party.
Fabian was funny and confident, Sirius thought they got along pretty well. He had never gone out with a boy before. They had kissed in a broom closet that Fabian had pulled him into. Sirius didn’t really feel any sparks, and broke up with him after two weeks.
Sirius was sixteen when he started dating the love of his life. He had nervously asked out Remus, shaking the same way Mary had when she asked him out.
He had never asked anyone out before, let alone someone like Remus, someone who mattered so much to him. Remus had said yes, but didn’t want to tell anyone just yet.
Sirius was sixteen when he had his first secret relationship. He hated it. He wanted the entire world to know how much he liked Remus John Lupin. He wanted the world to know that Remus liked him back.
Sirius had never had to hide something so big before, especially from James. But he didn’t tell anyone, because if the only way Sirius could have Remus was secretly, he would have him like that.
Two people asked Sirius out in the first month he and Remus were together. He had to tell them no, but couldn’t really explain why. Remus was jealous of how they so publicly expressed their attraction to Sirius. Sirius told him it didn’t matter, because he loved Remus.
Sirius was newly seventeen when he first said “I love you”. He told Remus this softly late into the night when he was sure the other boy was asleep. He was curled up in Remus’s arms, hidden behind the curtains surrounding Remus’s four poster bed in the dorm.
When Sirius felt Remus shift he knew he had heard him. He heard the words repeated to him, whispered back in a husky voice. He flushed and grinned into Remus’s shirt.
Sirius stayed there in silence for another half hour before he began to pull himself out of Remus’s arms.
Remus didn’t let him move, gripping to him tighter. “Mm, I gotta go to my bed, they’ll find us in the morning,” Sirius murmured as he tried to detach himself from Remus.
Remus’s voice was quiet but firm as he spoke, “Let them.”
Sirius gasped softly but smiled and burrowed himself further into the covers.
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scoonsalicious · 2 days
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4.2 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, mentions of Bucky's past.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Bucky convinced Sam to lie to Lily for him if she asks where Bucky is tonight.
A/N: In the car, I just can't wait / To pick you up for our very first date!
Is it cool if I hold your hand? / Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
You were nervous. Why were you so nervous? This man had already had his mouth on your lady bits; there was no reason to be nervous about just having dinner with him, right? Yet your heart was racing as you waited for Bucky to come pick you up for your date. 
You must have checked your hair and reapplied your lip gloss a thousand times when the doorman buzzed to let you know you had a visitor. After telling him to send Bucky up, you glanced at the clock– he was exactly five minutes early, and you stifled a giggle at the thought of him pacing in front of your building until an appropriate time. 
Soon enough, there was a gentle knocking at your door, and with a last glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you opened the door.
You both stood there for a moment, taking the other in. Bucky looked positively resplendent in a black suit and burgundy button up– no tie, and the first few buttons left undone. The contrast with his eyes made them look even more blue than you remembered from this morning.
“Hi,” you breathed. “Uh, hey,” he said, seeming to come out of a trance. “You… you look fucking amazing.” You ducked your head to hide your blush– you’d put on an emerald green, A-line Chiffon cocktail dress with an asymmetrical skirt that hit just below your knees and a peekaboo cut in front– held together with beading– and a v-tieback. “Stole my breath for a minute there.”
“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling the blush creep up your cheeks.
“Oh, these are for you,” Bucky said, handing you a bouquet of white roses.
You held them to your face and inhaled. “They’re gorgeous, thank you,” you said, moving aside to invite him in. “You’re spoiling me, you know that, right? First the orchid, now the roses?”
You moved toward the kitchen to find a vase to put the flowers in. 
“Did you like the orchid?” Bucky asked, almost shyly, as though he was afraid he’d made a wrong move. You turned back to smile at him. “I loved it,” you told him honestly. “How did you even know orchids are my favorite?”
Bucky chuckled and nodded his head toward your living room wall, where you had three giant paintings of orchid flowers hanging over your sofa. “Just a lucky guess, I ‘spose.”
“You’re very perceptive, Mr. Barnes.” You put water in the vase, setting the flowers inside and placing them on the dividing wall between your kitchen and dining room. “There,” you said, stepping back to admire them. 
“You ready to go, doll?” Bucky asked, extending his arm to you. 
You took it gladly, slotting yourself next to him as though you were made to fit there. “I am,” you said.
Bucky had borrowed one of Tony Stark’s sports cars for the occasion, and you felt incredibly fancy as you drove through the streets of the city in it. You and Bucky made small talk on your way to the restaurant where Bucky had made a reservation for the two of you, and you found him so incredibly easy to talk to. You talked about the differences in the army between the ‘40s and now, and shared a few light war stories. By the time you reached the restaurant, he had you laughing so hard at a story he told about living with the Avengers that you thought your sides were going to burst.
You weren’t sure what kind of establishment you’d expected him to bring you to, and truthfully, you would have been thrilled with a regular old burger joint, if you were going there with him, but when you stepped out onto the rooftop terrace, you let out a gasp. The restaurant overlooked the Hudson, offering a dazzling view of the sunset over New Jersey. The tables were all tucked behind and around towering pieces of greenery– palms and ferns, and blossoming shrubs offering a screen of privacy for every group of diners. Overhead, cafe lights hung from pergolas, washing the area in a soft, warm light. It was heavenly.
Once Bucky gave his name and the hostess began escorting you to your table, he leaned in to whisper to you “What do you think?”
Your head was moving in every direction as you tried to take in every ounce of ambiance. “It’s gorgeous, Bucky,” you told him truthfully. “How did you find this place?”
“Pepper Potts recommended it,” he said. “She said it was the perfect spot for an intimate meal. Plus, they close for the winter, so if I wanted to take you, I’d better do it on one of our first dates.”
You tilted your head up to look at him, studying his face. “You’re planning multiple dates already?” you asked, a curl to your lips. 
“‘Course, doll,” Bucky said as you approached your designated table. “Gotta whole list of things I wanna do with you.”
You felt your face flush as he pulled your chair back for you before gently pushing you in. 
“So, what’s on this list?” you asked him once he’d sat himself down. 
“Nuh-uh,” he chided you. “They’ve gotta be surprises, at least until we get closer to ‘em.”
There was no way this man was real, you thought. No way you, of all people, could get lucky enough to catch his eye.
The waiter approached, asking if you would like wine for the table, and a panicked look flashed across Bucky’s face. You asked the waiter for a few more moments to decide.
“What is it?” you asked him.
“I have no fucking idea what wine to get!” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Fuck! I knew I should have asked Pepper!”
You reached across the table and put a comforting hand on top of his. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him. “I actually don’t know shit about wine, myself.” Bucky gave you a skeptical look, but you nodded reassuringly. “How about we just get cocktails, instead?”
The smile Bucky gave you then was equal parts relief and gratitude. “Yeah,” he said, looking much happier. “I’ll get me some of that delicious girly shit.” He winked at you, and you laughed. 
The waiter returned shortly, and you both placed your orders. Once he left, you realized you needed to come clean about something.
You cleared your throat. “So, uh, I actually have to confess something to you,” you told him, fidgeting with the napkin you’d placed in your lap.
“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, leaning forward, eyes sparkling in the soft light.
You closed your eyes, feeling horrible for what you were about to say. “I… I Googled you,” you told him. 
Realization dawned on Bucky’s face. “Oh,” he said, expression falling. “Yeah… uh,” he coughed into his hand. “That makes sense. So, you came to dinner to, what? Just let me down gently?”
Your mouth hung open in surprise. “What? No!” You reached over to grasp his hand again, this time interlocking your fingers with his own. “Look, the truth of it is, I told a couple of employees– my friends– about meeting you last night, and they brought up your trial.” Bucky visibly flinched at your words. “I admit, I knew nothing about it– it happened around the same time I was getting divorced, so I was kind of preoccupied for a while,” you said. “So, when my friends told me about the charges, I got… curious.”
You noticed Bucky was studiously looking down at his bread plate, not meeting your eye. “Hey,” you said, tugging gently on his hand. “Look at me.”
He slowly raised his eyes and you were struck with how… remorseful they looked. “The more I read,” you told him, “the more I realized the whole thing was a trumped up circus. Anyone with an ounce of empathy could see that you weren’t responsible for what you were made to do; that you were a victim. They just needed someone to blame, and you were a convenient scapegoat.”
“Doll,” Bucky said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “you don’t understand. I–”
“No, Bucky, please,” you said to him. “I don’t want you thinking you have to disclose anything to me unless you want to and you’re ready. I just want you to know that I don’t hold those things against you. I don’t blame you, and I don’t think you should be blamed. I want you to know that none of it matters, not to me. I look at you, and I don’t see the man the media tried to paint you to be. I see someone sweet, who makes me laugh– someone I really want to get to know better. I just want you to know all that.”
Bucky’s eyes were wide as saucers as he took in your words. You were almost afraid you’d said something wrong, after he hadn’t spoken for nearly a full minute, but finally, he squeezed your hand. “Thank you,” he said, voice choked. “You… you don’t know what that means to me. I can’t tell you what that means to me– I don’t have the words. I just… thank you.”
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