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apollosfavkiddo · 9 days

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⛧° midnights are easier with you

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: percy jackson x hephaestus!reader, platonic!leo valdez x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of leo's death.

a/n: dedicated to my dear wife cynthia cause she asked me to post this one first so... yeah. ejoy ya'll

word count: 1,537

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

now playing… late night talking - harry styles

It’s a normal thing for demigods to have constant nightmares. Every night, the same monsters or gods or prophecies kept haunting your dreams, never going away. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a night of peaceful sleep, much less a good dream.

But after the battle with Gaea, the nightmares only worsened, the loss of two of your closest friends and family never leaving your mind. And they couldn’t seem to haunt anyone else, just you.

Maybe because only you, amongst all of them, saw your brother’s death.

One time, at four in the morning, you woke up sweating and crying in your own bed sheets. It was once again with Leo’s death. He was once your best friend and closest brother, the type of close that’d tease and annoy you, but always be there, nonetheless.

You knew you couldn’t stay in your cabin, so you decided to go to the beach. It was the only place you knew the harpies wouldn’t go this late at night, so it was practically your only option. And it wasn’t a bad one. Definitely better than staying at the Hephaestus cabin or even going to bunker nine, remembering all the good memories you had made with Leo in eight short months that should’ve been longer.

You threw on a random hoodie that you had stolen from Percy’s cabin when he was missing, and you needed some sort of reassurance that maybe, maybe he was still alive. Now he was alive and well, probably sleeping in his cabin.

And you were here, moping around.

Two months before, you’d probably be moping with Jason, mourning the loss of a best friend and brother for the both of you. But now he was in a boarding school in California, unable to answer a call. Not that you’d call him, anyway.

While walking in the direction of the beach, your mind kept diverting towards the green-eyed, raven-haired boy. You’ve had a crush on Percy for a few years now. Four, to be more specific. I mean, who never had a crush on Percy freaking Jackson?

Not just hot, he was kind, brave, loyal, clever, strong, powerful, handsome... what else could anyone want, huh?

Even thinking about him never seemed to leave your mind. And it was definitely better than to think about Leo twenty-four seven and get even more trauma than what you already had with his death.

Even knowing that Percy was a water dude, it was still wildly surprising to find him taking a swim in the middle of the night at Camp Half-Blood's beach. He was right there, lying on the sand after a swim, being bathed by the first sunrays, his orange tee clinging to his wet body.

He looked angelic, even godly. Anything, but definitely not human. He was too handsome for this world.

You obviously assumed he was asleep, so you just kept staring at his face. It may have been a little creepy if he wasn’t your best friend who always did that with you too, so you just ignored and mentally mapped all the freckles on his cheeks, hoping beyond hope that someday you’d kiss every and each one of them.

“You know it’s creepy when someone just watches you when you sleep, right?” Percy asked, his usual smug and cocky grin quickly making his way to his lips as he didn’t even bother to open an eye.

You obviously couldn’t help but smirk back at the boy, laughing and kicking him playfully on the thigh.

“Oh, shut up, Jackson. You do that to me every time you barge into my cabin. Stupid psycho.” You said jokingly while sitting beside him on the sand.

“You hurt my feelings.” He said with a wide smile as he sat and pulled you in for a hug. A hug which you desperately tried to squirm away from, since he was dripping wet, soaking your shirt as well.

After a few minutes of a heated battle, that he won with his ticklish cheating, you were soaked in the sea water without even getting into the sea itself and Percy was holding back his giggles.

Infuriating, sure. Still cute, though.

His laugh was just too pretty. The way he threw his head back just made you want to kiss the hell out of him, but you knew that wasn’t possible. Ruining your eldest friendship was an unnecessary risk to take.

“You’re infuriating” You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“Maybe. But I'm hot, so it’s a win-win in my book.” He said, looking at you with his puppy eyes, which made you chuckle and look at the dawn sky.

The color mixing together in a pink, orange and black haze with the remaining stars in the sky were your second favorite view in the world. It just lost to Percy.

If you looked at him right now, you would notice how he was staring at you. You'd probably blush and smile at his intense, never faltering gaze. His sea-green eyes seemed to never leave your face, and one could even say he seemed enamored by you. But you wouldn’t let yourself think that and have false hopes and expectations. You could only hope that maybe, one day, he’d feel the same for you that you felt for him.

“What brought you here in the middle of the night?” He asked a few moments later. When you looked at him, he seemed worried. It was definitely not usual for you to come to the beach at four in the morning, so he was kind of right in worrying so much.

“I... had a nightmare. Couldn't really sleep after that.” You said, shrugging it off.

“About?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in curiosity.

“Leo. Leo's death, actually.” You answered.

He just hummed in agreement and understanding. Obviously, he’d understand what you were talking about, since he experienced dozens of deaths of close friends, same as you did.

“Wanna try and talk about it?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Not really.” You said for what it seemed like the tenth time in just a day.

It's not that you were trying to hide your pain. Well, you were indeed trying to hide it but that’s off the point. I mean, it wouldn’t go great if he knew what was really going on in your head, especially when a few of those things were thoughts of him and you making out till you were both breathless and panting.

“You know, you couldn’t have avoided his suicide. Trust me. Hazel and Frank tried, and it didn’t work out.” He said, trying to reassure you as he moved a little closer to you, your shoulders touching slightly.

“Yeah, maybe. But they didn’t know him. Maybe he’d- maybe he’d listen to me, okay? I just- It's just too painful.” You said, already feeling the tears flowing to your eyes. His death was a sensitive topic that never failed to bring you to tears.

“I know, beautiful, but he did it because he knew he’d save the world.” He said, scooting closer to you and pulling you to his chest. “If it weren’t for Leo, we would still be in a gigantic war, and we’d have so much more losses, darling. Leo is a hero. He'll always be remembered as one.”

“I wanted him here, not his memories.” You mumbled, letting the tears fall freely from your eyes straight into his strong arms.

“Yeah, I know. I know it’s hard, and the pain’s gonna take a long while to go away. But it eventually will.” He reassured, kissing your cheek. “And while it doesn’t, I'm gonna be here by your side whenever you need. Even if you don’t need, I'm still here.”

“I love you.” You murmured under your breath before you could even stop it. He kissed your forehead softly.

“I love you too, y/n/n.” He whispered. But it seemed like only fraternal, or friends love. That's more than what you want, and you’re gonna tell him. He deserves to know. Maybe it’ll ruin your friendship, but you just can’t keep this bottled up.

“No, Percy.” You said, sniffing and sitting back, looking at his green eyes with your own puffy ones. “I love you. Like, lovelove.”

He looked... startled, to say the least. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of your words. You were starting to regret ever saying anything to him. Maybe now he’s gonna hate you and never talk to you again, then the whole trauma of Leo’s death would now be together with Percy leaving, and you were gonna get even more fucked up than you already are, and-

Or maybe he’d just kiss you and completely interrupt your entire trail of thought and your whole mind with his salty, sea-like kisses and chapped lips that fit so perfectly with yours.

His hand found your waist, holding it while his tongue entered your mouth deliciously well. It was literally a dream come true.

Finally, you two were completely out of breath and he pulled away, smiling and keeping your foreheads touching.

“I think I love you too.” He answered before pulling you in for another kiss.

#postcards from leah #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #leo valdez x reader

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gojoidyll · 7 months

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Wriothesley x Reader

warnings: a stalker (not wrio), insecurities, fear, grammatical errors, etc.

small note: insinuated that both of them end up together at the end but not explicitly said.

(not gender specific btw!!)

Currently thinking of a scenario (or maybe a future fanfic someday) where you are an amazing author in Fontaine who feels like writing was the biggest mistake you could have ever made.

At first, writing was your passion, it was what led you to fame and the creation of a certain all-time hit detective series that people all across of teyvat like to read.

At first, writing was what made you happy. You could stay home all day without having to venture out of the safety and comforts of your home. Didn't have to worry about your next paycheck, if you'll have enough mora for tomorrow, or if you'll have enough to pay rent by next week. Sure you had deadlines, but since you loved to write and managed your time wisely - deadlines weren't ever an issue.

But slowly, as you rose to fame, admirers and fans were quick to swarm.

It got to the point that you would get mountains of letters a day (almost by the hour). And as a pushover as you were (your parents never really taught you how to stand up for yourself), you quickly found yourself writing to each fan back who sent you letters or gifts. Thanking them. Talking to them. Even becoming penpals too.

Then there was one man in particular who started to get too creepy. Too close for comfort.

His letters started to get disturbing. He would introduce himself with a fake name but tell you that he was a young man in his late twenties. How your books gave him life and meaning. How he would see you walking the streets and even got your schedule down when you would go to the grocery store or hangout with friends.

It was then when you would find that you had gained your own stalker. It was then that maybe getting the spotlight on you and through your writing was a bad idea.

If only I didn't share my real name. I wonder if things would be different...

Despite the mental stress the man was placing on you. You tried to push those thoughts away even though the fear of being watched at all moments throughout the day ate away at you. Your own home wasn't your safety net any longer, you feared.

You couldn't bring yourself to tell anyone, opting out for dealing with this yourself.

You tried to tell the man to stop. He didn't.

Warned him.

Yelled at him when you would spot him hiding.

Screamed when he broke into your home. Kicked and thrashed around.

It was then when your neighbors called for the garde. Immediately coming to the rescue due to all the noise you both were causing.

And soon a trial was held. The man was immediately found guilty for a numerous of things. Theft, stalking, attempted kidnapping, breaking and entering, etc.

And even when he was sent to the fortress of meropide, you found that you just couldn't write anymore even though your hit detective series was still ongoing. Your editors, in understanding, gave the series a hiatus and let you take a vacation.

But once again, you feared.

You feared that you just couldn't write anymore.

The one thing that you enjoyed doing ended up with some crazy fan wanting more of you. You didn't want to fear anymore.

And it would be two weeks later when you would be approached by Neuvillette and Clorinde. They would tell you about the happenings within the fortress and how your presence was needed in dealing with your ex-stalker.

Apparently he had gotten into some trouble, and he wouldn't talk no matter what unless he got to see you.

So you found yourself reluctantly going. It wasn't like you were going to stay home and do anything anyway...

At the fortress now, you found yourself in a big office. Apparently it belonged to the Duke, the warden of the fortress. You learned quickly by many of the people there that you should refer to him as "your grace."

And as you sat alone in the office in one of the chairs, a noise sounded just down below.

"They're here?! Where?! I must see them!"

That voice, you couldn't help but to tremble. You didn't want to be here. Not here. But Neuvillette and Clorinde helped alot with the case and proving the man guilty, so you felt obligated to stay and forced yourself not to run away.

"Y/n! There you are! I'm so glad to see you again!"

"That's enough. You see them now, right? So get talking."

You finally got to see the Duke of the fortress of meropide (with the chief justice and Clorinde on either side of him). The duke's eyes were an icy blue, sharp and calculated. His hair black and grey, and spiked - you couldn't help but to think of how ... wolfish he looked.

"Talk? Talk?! I didn't ask you to bring them here so I could talk!"

He reached for you. Hands outstretched as if to hurt you. To pull you towards himself. But Wriothesley was already a step ahead as he grabbed the front of the man's shirt and forced him to the ground, pinning him there.

"I guess no one taught you how to treat a lady."

And maybe, just maybe writing wasn't a mistake after all. Because maybe all this time as you would write happy endings for your characters .. maybe you were waiting for your own happy ending. A happy ending where someone saves you from someone and from yourself.

At least, thats what came to mind as when you finally managed to finish your detective series two months later with its final book.

"So, what genre are you looking to write for now? Because I think you got the mystery all covered."

Sitting in Wriothesley's office once more, lunch in hand, you smiled and thought for a moment.

"How about a romance?"

He snorted at the question, "romance, huh? And how do you plan on starting that?"

"If I told you, then it would ruin the whole book."

"I don't mind spoilers."

You grinned, eyes trained on his as you both enjoyed your lunch break together, "well, it starts off with a man saving an author from someone and from themselves."

"That so," he asked while smirking, he already knew where this was going.

"Do they end up together?"

You shrugged, "you tell me."

Wriothesley leaned back in his chair, eyes trained on you, and only you, "I noticed that in your books, your characters get happy endings. So why not write another one?"

"What? Not a fan of angst?"

"Absolutely not."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #reader is an author in fontaine #genshin fontaine #this was just supposed to be a small little scenario #and now look what happened

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petcr3 · 10 months

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dreams | rhett abbott x reader

summary: rhett asks if reader ever wants to move out of their apartment, and before either of them know it, they’re planning out a future together.

word count: ~1.4k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, my usual in depth cuddle descriptions because i am not normal, rhett getting to feel loved uwu, rhett being romantic because he IS i just know

a/n: this was completely unplanned, i was just yearning so hard an entire fic fell out

You’re curled up against Rhett’s chest, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he idly trails his fingers up and down the length of your spine.

“You ever think about leaving this place?” he asks.

“Wabang?”

“No.” A chuckle. “Well, yeah. But I just meant the apartment.” You hum in understanding, fingertips idly dancing along his side.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind living in a bigger place. Maybe a house someday.”

“Any chance I’m in that house with you?”

“Of course you are. There’s a little spot for you to curl up at the foot of my bed and everything.” Laughter rumbles in his chest and he leans down to nip harmlessly at the shell of your ear.

“Mean.”

You giggle and hide your face against his chest. He can feel you smiling against his skin. Despite your transgression, Rhett reaches up to play with your hair and you let out a contented sigh.

“There’s no house without you in it,” you say after a moment. It catches him a little off guard. Sure, he likes to think he plays a part in your fantasies about the future, but it’s something else to hear that he’s a fixture in them. Something clenches near his heart–– a beautiful ache that comes from a missing piece sliding home.

“Tell me more about it?” he asks, feeling suddenly a little vulnerable. You nose affectionately at his chest and pull him a little closer

“It’s got a lot of light. It’s big, but not too big, like, you can’t get lost in it. We wouldn’t need that kind of space. Mostly it just feels open and bright, you know? Lots of sun. Our bedroom has its own bathroom so I can listen to you sing to yourself in the shower.” Rhett lets out a quiet snort.

“Thought you did that anyway.”

“Yeah but now I can do it lying down. It’s a game changer.”

You’re funny, Rhett thinks. People don’t notice that enough. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…” Your head bobs a little with his gentle laughter.

“Go on.”

“We have a big ol’ bathtub–– one where we both fit.”

“Sexy.” He can’t help himself. You pinch his side, but he can still feel you smiling..

“We have a big yard. Maybe even big enough to keep horses, if you wanted.”

“What about a dog?”

“Well we’d have to get two, so they can have a friend.”

“Agreed.”

“What about you? What are you adding?” Rhett thinks for a moment.

“Nice deck. Rocking chairs or a porch swing so we can sit out and watch the stars at night.” You let out a happy little sound, and he can tell you’re picturing it. “Lots of blankets out there. You can get nice n’ cozy and I’ll bring us out hot toddies.” Rhett knows he’s not playing exactly by the rules of the game, but he’s starting to get lost in the idea of a future with you–– one that you seem to already be counting on. “The dogs like to sit by our feet. At least one of ‘em’s too big to sit in your lap, but you let ‘em anyway because you’re soft on ‘em.” He smiles. “Guess I probably am, too.”

You’ve always loved Rhett’s voice. It’s sexy as hell, sure, but it’s also unbelievably calming. Paired with his arms wrapped around you, it’s positively lethal. But he’s so wrapped up in the fantasy you two are creating, he doesn’t notice the way your breathing evens out or your grip on his waist starts to slacken.

“Once it gets too cold we head inside and you tell me just to leave the mugs in the sink because you don’t wanna go up to the bedroom by yourself even if it’s just for a few minutes. Our bedroom is big, but it’s cozy. You picked out most of the furniture but you always tell everyone I helped. I built our bed frame, though. You like to brag about that.” He knows he’s right because you still tell everyone you know about the end table he made for your living room last year. When he starts speaking again, he hardly realizes what he’s saying. It just starts to flow out of him.

“I ask you to marry me in that bed. I got a ring and a proposal all planned out but you have to go and look so beautiful one night that my plans go right out the window. I take you out for a walk like I was going to, though, and get down on one knee. You don’t even let me get up, you practically tackle me to the ground saying yes again. Maybe we get married out in the yard or we find some place pretty to go. But I think the ceremony happens outside; that feels right. We make Amy the flower girl even if she’s not a kid anymore. I’m crying the whole damn time and I don’t care who sees. You hold my hand even if we’re not supposed to.” He isn’t sure if that’s a rule–– he thinks maybe it isn’t–– but he knows you’d break it if there was one.

“I know we haven’t talked about kids, but…” Finally Rhett catches himself. “Well, I guess I’m getting a little carried away, there, huh?” For the first time in several minutes, he realizes you haven’t said a word. He nudges his nose against the crown of your head. “Sweetheart?” You shift a little bit, saying nothing. Rhett can’t help but laugh when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. He leans back just enough to drag his thumb gently underneath your eye. “Sweetheart,” he tries again, a little louder.

“Mmm?” The sheets rustle as you start to wake, the sounds of a slow inhale as it fills your lungs. “Rhett?”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” and he thinks that maybe he’s never loved you so much as he does now. It’s not the first time he’s felt it–– he falls more in love with you every damn day. But his chest is full of something honey-thick, and warm. Your groggy expression is the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. “Think you fell asleep.” You blink some of the sleep from your eyes.

“Oh fuck!” you swear through a yawn. Your eyes seem bigger than ever when you peer up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just you were playing with my hair and your voice is so soothing and––”

“It’s okay,” he says softly, “it was kinda cute.”

“No, but I wanna hear what you were saying!”

“You’re tired, honey. Let’s go to sleep and I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“No,” you say, wiggling out of his embrace and sitting up. “I wanna hear everything. No details skipped.” Rhett only smiles up at you, expression growing mischievous, lips sealed tight.

“Here,” you say, oblivious to the fact that he’d do anything you asked. “You can put your head in my lap. I’ll play with your hair. But you have to tell me everything I missed.” He chuckles and tucks his head against your thigh. His eyes flutter shut and a happy sigh leaves him as you begin to card your fingers through his hair.

“Where’d I lose you?”

“I let the big dogs sit on my lap.” He grins up at you, eyes peeking open.

“Oh good, so you missed the proposal.” You freeze.

“The what?”

“You heard me.” And the smug bastard has the nerve to shut his eyes again, settling back into your lap.

“Rhett Abbott, you open your eyes right now.”

“Hmm… nope.” You tug at his hair but he just lets out a contented groan. He can’t see you glaring at him, and it’s hard to keep it up when your heart is threatening to melt down into nothing and kill you. You think that maybe you’ve never loved Rhett as much as you do in this very moment.

“Did you mean it?” you ask, voice suddenly small. Rhett opens his eyes, expression serious now.

“Yeah, I did.”

“And you’re not even gonna tell me?” you cry. He smiles and turns his head to press a kiss against your tummy.

“I’ll tell you everything else. I promise. But some things ought to be a surprise, don’t you think?” You let out a huff, but it’s all fondness.

“Okay, so I’m a pushover with the dogs, and?”

“You leave the mugs in the sink overnight because you can’t stand to be without me, even for a second.” You give him a look, but you know it’s true.

Luckily, if everything goes to plan, you won’t have to.

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x you #outer range imagine #lewis pullman x reader #nobody perceive me #pls and thank you

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roses-r-rosie3 · 9 months

Text

Smiley

Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader

Warnings: fluff, google translated Spanish, Mayday being a cutie-Patootie

Summary: Peter asks Miguel to babysit Mayday while he and MJ go out on a date, but before Miguel can say no, the reader says yes

Quote: "You know.. Since you're so good with kids maybe we should have some of our own someday"

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Peter and MJ were celebrating their anniversary but there was one problem. The babysitter called in sick that day. So Peter had no choice but to ask his work colleagues. But when he did, they either couldn’t or just straight up said ‘no’. So Peter had no choice but to ask Miguel.

Of course Miguel would probably say no too but it was worth a shot. Luckily, when Peter got inside of Miguel’s office, he saw that you were there. You two were friends, he met you through Miguel. But he knew Miguel was always less grumpy when you were around, so maybe that would increased his chances.

“Hey Miguel.. uhh.. I was wondering.. would you maybe wanna babysit Mayday for me while me and MJ go out?” Peter laughed nervously as he held Mayday up to him.

Your eyes lit up in joy. Mayday’s little smile brightened the room. Who would say no to such a cute face?

“N-”

“Yes! Of course! We’ll totally babysit her” you yelped excitingly.

Miguel gave you a death-stare, but you didn’t care. You quickly ran to Peter and Peter handed Mayday over to you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do sweetie” Peter said as he kissed Mayday’s head before he left.

“What was that y/n! We can’t take care of a kid! We can barley even take care of ourselves!” Miguel yelled.

“Don’t be so dramatic Miggy we can totally take care of her” you smiled as you rocked Mayday in your arms.

“Dios por favor ayudame¹” Miguel Sighed.

"You're going to have the best time of your life" you cooed as you ignored Miguel.

Mayday laughed in excitement as you tossed her in the air and catched her.

"Ooh! Miguel can you make her a little trampoline with your webs for her?" you asked.

"God you're so immature" Miguel sighed.

But who was he to deny your request? So he got off and grumbled as he made a trampoline for Mayday. After Miguel was done, you excitedly placed Mayday on the homemade trampoline and watched her bounced with joy on her face.

"Oh my god isn't she so cute!!" You giggled.

Miguel would be lying if he said that he didn't crack a smile while watching Mayday bounce happily.

"We should take a picture and send it to Peter!" you said as you pulled your phone out.

You took a picture and sent it to peter and he responded with a '🥹' Emoji. After a while of you playing with Mayday and Miguel slowly losing his brain cells, you eventually got hungry and Mayday was a bit sleepy, so you asked Miguel if he could take care of Mayday for a bit while you got something to eat.

After you got your food you decided to bring some food for Miguel and Mayday. When you got back to Miguel's office, you saw Mayday dead asleep in Miguel's arms while he cradled and cooed her in his arms.

"Holy shit this is so cute!!" you whisper squealed.

You put the food down and quickly whipped your phone out and took about +50 photos of Miguel and Mayday. You quickly sent 1/3 of the photos to peter, earning a 'No way that's Miguel' response from him.

"Not right now y/n" Miguel whisper yelled.

After Peter and MJ came back from their date, Peter opened a portal to the society and walked inside of Miguel's office to see you playing with Mayday in your arms.

"Hey guys, I came to pick up Mayday, I hope she didn;t cause any trouble" Peter said.

"Of course she didn't! She is an angel" you smiled.

"How do you guys want me to pay you? Do you guys want cash or do you want me to get you a gift?" Peter asked.

"It's fine Peter, Mayday is a gift herself" you said.

"Oh and by the way Miguel, I never knew you were a kid type of person" Peter chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah" Miguel grumbled.

"I know right?!" You laughed.

"Anyways, thank you guys for taking care of Mayday. Bye guys" Peter smiled.

After Peter left the room it only left you and Miguel.

"You know.. Since you're so good with kids maybe we should have some of our own someday" you smirked.

Miguel nearly choked.

"EW! You guys know that I'm here right?!" Lyla fake-gagged.

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

¹ = God please help me

(Again i'm not very fluent in spainish so I got it off of google translate)

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sorrowsofsilence · 4 months

Text

Burning Out • 1

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 7.3K

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, Alcohol consumption, devils lettuce consumption, violence, mentions of murder, panic attacks/ anxiety

Authors note: Chapter One: The Apparition - This story was a request by an anon! I hope you enjoy my interpretation of the prompt (prompt is here). I am excited to see where this goes! Let me know any thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged leave a comment :3 (ps. Listen to the apparition by sleep token hehe)

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <;3

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking

NOAH

The world was always in a state of grey, the life of the concrete jungle persistently sucking out the souls of its inhabitants with every passing second. Destruction. Crime. Greed. A shattering abyss of capitalism and corruption.

Yet, within this lifetime, I don’t think I was meant to be the good guy either.

Perhaps there was a chance for me, someday or somehow within another universe.

For now, the only thing I could think about was how my heart pounded as the gun sat between my fingers, threatening the innocent ahead. Destruction, Crime, Greed.

“Noah, let’s go,” Ruffilo pulled at my wrist in desperation. My arm remained still, resisting his force.

The woman’s eyes watched me in horror, tears brimming as her back hit the brick wall behind her, arms wrapping protectively around her body in defeat.

My heart raced, and I stood frozen in place.

“I won’t say anything I swear,” She pleaded, lips trembling, saliva foaming from her mouth as she was too afraid to swallow.

I don’t want to do this, but I fucked up.

“Noah,” Ruffilo said through gritted teeth, “We need to go,” he placed a hand on top of my gloved one, in another attempt to have me lower the bad decision.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut in contemplation as my chest heaved, the voice of rationality fighting against the voice of destruction.

I’ll be even more of a fuck up if she rats on us.

You’ve never been able to kill anyone before you moron, why do you think this time will be any different?

My eyes snapped open, leathered finger dancing along the trigger as I stared at her. My teeth barred through chapped lips, a snarl of frustration crawling from my throat. The woman's eyes turned away in fear as if watching her own demise would kill her. Ironic.

Seeing her in complete terror left me broken. Is this who I am? I am nothing more.

The next thirty seconds passed as though I was walking through molasses, my thoughts battling contradictions before I audibly screamed in frustration, shoving the gun back into my pocket as Nicholas and I ran towards the van.

“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming the car door as forceful as possible. The tires squealed in place, burning out as Jolly’s foot pounded onto the gas pedal.

I ripped off my ski mask, throwing it angrily onto the floor of the vehicle.

“You should’ve just left her Noah. Now if they find us we could be charged with assault with a weapon.” The deep Swedish accent was the last thing I wanted to hear. He eyed me sternly in the rearview mirror. I lingered on his gaze for a moment before turning my head towards the window.

“Oh Fuck off Jolly,” I sighed angrily, closing my eyes as my breathing quickened, the anxiety beginning to set in. The pounding of my heart began to vibrate along my entire chest, and my leg bounced in anticipation, waiting for the panic to subside.

I kept justifying to myself that we’re all dead anyway, so what’s the difference between a God and a loaded gun?

+++++

Y/N

Wrapping the grey apron around my waist, I clocked into work and tightened my low bun, tucking the loose strands of my H/C bangs behind my ear. Another shift, another day that felt wasted away, confiding into the capitalist abyss.

Overall, I enjoyed my new job working in the coffee shop. The city was busy, something I definitely wasn’t used to, but the cafe was a comforting environment filled with tasty pastries, and an unlimited amount of caffeine to fulfill any heart's desire.

I did appreciate having a solid routine, and a stable job that paid me well, however, I envied those with freedom. Those with spontaneous adventures and the ability to travel; those who got to spend their days making memories. You never know when a day is going to be your last; and at this rate, my soul was going to linger within this fucking place forever.

I sighed as I checked on the coffee pots, organizing them before neaty lining the glass display with more cakes and croissants. Stocking up the cups and lids, I hummed to myself, letting my mind wander into my corporate daydream distractions.

Why are you never real?

Whenever you appear

You leave me with that grace

I am trembling with fear

But I know that you will disappear

“How’s it going Y/N?” My coworker asked, smiling, pulling me out of my trance.

Annika; I have grown quite fond of her, even though I’ve only known her a week.

“Good,” I smiled, pulling a sanitized cloth out of a bucket and wiping down the counters, “yourself?”

“Oh you know, same old same old.” She said, sighing with a sad smile. I matched her as we shared a moment of familiarity, before concentrating again on wiping the surface, the cold cloth running along the faux marble.

The seating area was already busy; friends chatting, students studying, and business meetings occurring. I enjoyed watching the bustle of life that everyone brought inside. I smiled as I watched our regular elderly couple I’ve seen each morning this week wave goodbye.

“See you Lauren, bye Ray,” I gave them a nod, before wandering over to empty tables, giving them a wipe. The door dinged as more people came in, but I didn’t bother glancing up, letting myself work.

I hummed again, singing ever so quietly as I walked back to the counter and began to daydream, thinking of things I’d love to write about, and places I’d love to go. It’s only been three weeks since I left my old life behind, and this was just the beginning of my freedom.

So let's make trouble in the dream world

Hijack heaven with another memory now

I make the most of the turning tide

It just split what's left of the burning silence

“Sleep token?” a man's voice asked, pulling me out of my trance.

My head immediately spiralled, flushing with embarrassment as I realized Annika was off helping someone else, and I completely ignored the customer in front of me.

“Oh- sorry.” I avoided eye contact, throwing the cloth back into the bucket and scrambling my way back to the till.

“What can I get for you?” I asked as I stared at the buttons in front, preparing myself to hit stay or go, before looking up at the man in front of me. As soon as I met his deep brown eyes, I was lost in a certain intensity, the mysterious depths beckoning me towards him.

My lips parted as I stared at him, my cheeks immediately warming from infatuation. His chocolate eyes were paired with a head of long brunette hair that flowed in all the right places, just below his collarbone. A variety of coloured tattoos covered his arms and neck, and when he smiled, I just about felt weak in the knees; the crinkle of his eyes and the fold of his smile lines left me captivated. However, another story lingered behind his gaze, my mind trying to peel the layers to reveal whatever it may be.

He too watched my face, eyes trailing over every detail as a light tint of blush trailed down his ears to the top of his cheekbones.

“Uh- is it to stay? Or to go?” I stuttered as I looked away, realizing I was staring for too long. My ears felt hot and I eyed the counter intensely, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“To go please,” he said; and my god his voice, the slight Virginian accent that danced off his tongue held me in a chokehold.

“What could I get for you today?” I asked, glancing up shyly. I've met plenty of attractive customers in my years of retail and serving, but I never had anyone caught my eye the way he did. The unknown puzzle he appeared to be was leaving me captivated.

“I'd like a coffee please, black?” he said slowly, as if it was a question.

I let out a small laugh, “Did you want cream or sugar? Or we have a variety of syrups-” I watched as he smiled, before shaking his head, eyes remaining fixated.

“No, just black is okay…” he said. Something about his October eyes tantalized me, pulling me towards him as if invisible strings were being woven between us as the seconds ticked by. His body was a magnet, and I was being tugged.

“Sure thing,” I nodded, averting my eyes from his gaze in embarrassment, “that's everything for you?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, fiddling with his wallet before pulling out cash.

“Can I grab a name?” I asked shyly, looking back at him again, my eyes searching his entire face for answers as if his name would reveal all the mysteries he was hiding.

I extended my hand to grab his money, and he hesitated for a moment as if scared to touch me. He placed the bill gently in my palm, the tip of his tattooed fingers brushing across my skin. My hand burned as butterflies churned in my stomach.

“Noah,“ he said, giving a slight nod and tight smile.

“Noah,” I echoed, giving him his change, the cool silver coin radiating the heat off of his palm.

“I’ll have that ready for you shortly,” I smiled up at him, and he returned it, stepping back with his hands in his pockets. With shaky hands, I turned around and walked to the coffee pot, grabbing a cup and filling it with a warm drink.

Annika slithered next to me, bumping my shoulder gently, “That’s Noah, a regular. He hasn’t been here in a while, but he’s always so glum.”

I looked at her, nodding slowly, unsure what to say.

“He also always grabs cream and sugar, so I’m surprised he’s changing it up.” Annika turned around, eying the boy for a moment before leaning into me again, “must be because he’s so distracted, checking you out.”

Blush tinted my cheeks as I scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” I exhaled with doubt but took a quick glance at the brunette. Sure enough, he was watching from behind the counter, averting his eyes as soon as we made contact.

“You should give him your number, maybe that’ll cheer him up,” Annika whispered, giving me a wink before walking away to help another customer.

I laughed lowly as I put on the lid, sliding a sleeve up the cup. Grabbing the sharpie I opened it, and my fingers hesitated- what if I did?

I shook my head gently, shaking away the thought before scribbling Noah’s name across the top of the lid.

“Noah,” I said, his name passed off my lips as if he breathed it from me.

His inked fingers wrapped around the cup, “You were singing the apparition earlier,” He said, and I watched him curiously, “fascinating, the line about the past.”

Every word felt like it was being taken from my body as we watched each other. Both of us seemed to hesitate, waiting for the other to say something.

He spoke first, eyes gazing upon me for a moment as he turned towards the door, “I’ve never seen you before, you must be new around here.”

I wanted to respond, but I felt frozen; so I watched every step he took towards the door, the black hoodie he wore lingering in my memory.

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Have a good day,” He nodded, before walking through the door, the bell signalling his dismissal as he left.

Well, I believe,

Somewhere in the past,

Something was between,

You and I, My dear

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Perhaps it was infatuation or complete adoration; but regardless my heart yearned, regretting the way I held myself. Thoughts churned throughout my mind as I replayed the way he looked at me. I don’t think I've ever been looked at with so much intensity.

Fuck, why didn’t I get his number? I internally groaned, scolding myself, turning around to fix another pot of coffee. A few minutes went by as my mind raced with thoughts before I heard the door open again.

I instantly turned around, surprised to see the same long-haired brunette standing at the till once again, his locks tousled messily, but still cascading down to his collar bones elegantly.

“Hi,” He said, out of breath, as if he had been running. With parted lips and quick exhales, he smiled.

“Hi,” I said confused, my heart picking up pace once again.

“I think, I forgot cream and sugar,” He said, holding out the cup. His fingers shook as his cheek blushed.

My head tilted slightly as he eyed me, and I grabbed the cup from him gently, “How many of each would you like?”

“One and one.” He smiled, face flushed.

I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I turned around to pour the sugar and cream, mixing it in his still-hot coffee.

“One cream and one sugar,” I watched as our hands touched as we passed the beverage, fingers grazing, tingles sparking through my appendages.

Noah looked at me, our eyes searching each other for any other form of communication, but he spoke first, the question bluntly leaving his mouth, “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

I gave him a dumbfounded look, eyebrows turned inwards in shock. My lips slowly upturned into a smile of disbelief, his questions catching me completely off guard. I tilted my head to look at him as a laugh escaped me, and he too joined in, his own laugh shy and reclused.

“I- I think you should walk by again,” I watched him, coming up with a quick witty response, “But only so I can get another look as to what you’d look like walking towards me on a date.”

I cringed at my own words, laughing, and Noah’s smile widened at the banter.

“So, I’ve gathered that we are both really terrible at flirting,” He said, taking a sip of his coffee and licking his lips once he pulled the cup away.

I hummed in agreement, “I think that can be a safe deduction from this one-minute conversation,” my eyes following his fingers that now ran through his long chestnut hair, eyes trailing over the flower on the back of his hand, “maybe, you’d like to see how bad a longer conversation could be?”

Noah’s eyes twinkled with curiosity, giving me a look, “Do you want to risk it all right now?”

I smiled as my heart began to race, the glint in his eyes only excited me more. I grabbed the sharpie that was initially filled with regret earlier, wrote my number on top of a napkin, and handed it to him. “I’m off at 5, and I don’t work my next job till 9”

Noah licked his lips again, “I’ll see you then.”

---

I stood outside the coffee shop with my earbuds in, awaiting my bad decision. Pulling my hair out of my bun, I attempted to run my fingers through my hair to make it look even a little flattering. Would he show up? Was I delusional? Was this whole idea absolutely insane? Who does this with a complete stranger?

“Hey.”

I recognized the upbeat of his voice, and my ears immediately shifted colours. I pulled out an earphone as he strode towards me, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket. The way his hair flew behind his shoulders left me watching him in complete adoration. He was beautiful.

“Let me guess,” Noah bit the inside of his cheek as he approached me, “Same song?”

Don’t wait, ‘cause this could be the last time

You turn up in the reveries of my mind

I wake up to a suicide frenzy

Loaded dreams still leave me empty

“Possibly,” I smiled.

“I think you’d really like this song by Deftones,” He began as we started walking down the street aimlessly without a plan.

“Can I guess?” I asked, looking up at him. Noah towered over me, inches above in height. I felt so small against his frame, despite his own lanky figure, and my heart began to race at our proximity. Every step he took it felt like I had to take three, his Dior cologne radiating through my senses.

Why are you never real?

The shifting states you follow me through

Unrevealed

Just let me go or take me with you

“Is it sex tape?” I asked, and Noah gave me a toothy grin, clearly impressed.

“I don’t know how you guessed the exact song,” He said, squinting at me quizzically.

“What can I say,” I shrugged, “Good at reading pretty boys’ minds. Plus, it’s a good song, similar vibe.”

He eyed me playfully as we stopped at the crosswalk, “So you think I’m pretty?”

I watched the other side of the street, smiling as I faced forward and hummed, “Well, I don’t think I’d spontaneously go out with just anyone.”

He turned to face me, looking down at me with amusement. “Fair enough.”

“For the record, 100 percent my type,” I said, looking at him through my lashes.

Noah’s face flushed again, “What is that type? Just so I can scope them out for you, ya know?”

I thought a moment, chewing on my lip, “Oh you know, hot long-haired brunettes, brown eyes,” my eyes trailed down his body to scope his hands, before trailing back up to see the snake poking above his hoodie collar, “with tattoos,in a variety of places.”

“Well,” Noah’s cheeks tinted deeper, “I do have tattoos all over my body if you ever feel the need to explore them all.”

I laughed, watching him. We stared at each other for a moment longer, my heart pounding, as his eyes devoured me before the beeping of the sidewalk timer pulled my attention away from him.

“This is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” I confessed and shook my head as I laughed in disbelief.

“What?” Noah asked, hands in his jeans pockets as he gazed between me and the path ahead.

“Going out with someone I know nothing about,” I began, “for all I know you could be a serial killer,” I teased.

Noah chuckled, “Fair. I suppose this was the last thing I thought I’d be doing this fine Tuesday evening- but I do find a dash of danger titillating.”

I smiled widely, “so, you’re not a serial killer?”

“Not that I’m aware of, I can’t say it’s something I would get much from,” Noah laughed, but I noticed he looked away, eyes becoming distant.

“So who are you then?” I asked, Noah and I follow each other down the park path towards the neighbourhood. I pulled out my earbuds, shoving them back into my pocket. The wind was picking up slightly, causing me to shiver and pull my sleeves over my hands, fingers intertwining together in my hoodie pouch. We were walking along a path by the inner city river, the leaves of the birch trees swaying as they danced along to nature’s beat.

As I strolled next to Noah I felt an odd sense of comfort, despite knowing absolutely nothing about the man beside me. I watched him, his hair flying behind him, his eyes squinting through the wind.

“I don’t really know who I am,” He said, staring out at the water. The river flowed rapidly, the water washing over the memories of the city, carrying them through the ground in a prophesied path. I walked along with him quietly, waiting for Noah to continue speaking.

“I’m just a lost soul, I guess,” He spoke softly, eyes glazing over slightly as his mind pulled him inwards.

I nodded in understanding, “I suppose that I am too.”

Noah chuckled lowly, “Nah, there’s much more to your story,” he pried, pulling himself out of his trance.

“I mean, of course. Everyone has a past,” I looked at him curiously.

“What’s yours?” Noah watched me intently, pulling his hoodie over his head in an attempt to block the wind from blowing his hair into his face, “You’re not from around here.”

“How do you know?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Accent,” He said, “And I’ve never seen you around. I know these parts pretty well.”

“Hm. Fair enough.” I nodded, smiling, “I just moved here, from Canada.”

“To the shit hole city of Los Angeles?” Noah scoffed, surprised, “You had the whole world, and you chose LA?”

“City of dreams, they say,” I shrugged, my gaze falling upon the leaves again, “and I needed to get as far as I could.”

Noah was quiet for a moment, pondering. We walked in silence again, heading towards the houses.

“Running from something?” He asked, barely forming a whisper. Noah’s eyes met mine as they searched for an answer, attempting to read through me.

I sighed, tilting my head to give him a small smile, “Always.”

“Who?” Noah asked after another pause, sitting forward in interest.

“Ghosts and demons,” I laughed, lightening the mood, “Oh, and people too.”

We laughed together, our voices creating a harmony that I wanted to listen to forever.

“I left behind everything—everything I ever knew,” I began, turning to avoid Noah’s eyes.

“My parents were murdered,” I said. I expected him to immediately bombard me with apologies, as people always did when dropping a bomb like that; but he was silent, letting me continue. “I was thirteen. Lived in and out of different foster care homes- no one wants to ever take in a teenager.”

Noah hummed, prompting me to continue. We walked down the sidewalk along the street of houses; nearing my own. Staring at it as we walked by, I turned my attention forward.

“Unfortunately got in with the wrong crowd and some really bad people who only loved and wanted me when I could provide them with things.” I stifled a laugh, suddenly feeling insecure and small, “Basically I worked my ass off to get out, and I’ve finally made it and bought my own place.”

I looked over at him now, giving him a smile, “So still running, but a lot closer to my destination.” I felt an immense amount of appreciation for his ability to listen.

Noah smiled back, giving me a knowing glance; almost as if he understood. Turning his attention toward the houses he scanned them, watching each one intensely as we walked by.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just trauma-dumped on a stranger,” I gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Nah, we aren’t strangers now,” He said, “Definitely more like acquaintances.”

I smiled at his reassurance, “And you? You’re quite mysterious.”

Noah was quiet, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and thought as we enjoyed each other’s company, his eyes darting rapidly over the grass as if he were filtering through memories. I watched his lip run between his teeth before he turned to me, giving me a curt smile.

“I’m just Noah,” He said; but as I stared into his eyes, devouring his soul, I saw that he was much more than that.

+++++

NOAH

“Where the fuck were you?” Jolly yelled, “We’ve been waiting for hours.”

I slammed the motel door, the place we called home, glaring at him, “nowhere mom, it's not like you need to know.”

“You’re right,” Jolly said, stepping forward, pushing himself towards me so our chests were almost touching.

“I don’t give a fuck what you were doing, who you were doing, or whatever- But you know what time you need to be back, and you’re late.” Jolly’s finger pressed into my chest as he scolded me. We stared at each other, eye to eye, his gaze furious. I pushed against his chest, making space between us as I furrowed my brows.

“Whatever, sorry, I got carried away,” I mumbled, throwing myself onto the cot that rested on the floor I sighed, my cheek smashing into the musky-scented pillow. Staring at the 80’s retro carpet splayed on the floor, I analyzed the faint outline of the blood stain left by Ruffilo last week when he cut his knee open from a previous job.

“It’s your turn, Noah.” Nick Folio slapped the backpack onto the table as he sat back in the chair, crossing his legs on top of the wooden surface. The joint was lit between his lips as the smoke trailed through his teeth.

“I fucking hate doing this shit,” I protested, shaking my head as I rolled onto my back, letting myself close my eyes momentarily. Ruffilo tossed me my gloves and mask, the fabric hitting my chest. I groaned angrily as I sat up. I pulled the black leather gloves over my fingers to cover my tattoos. Standing up I shoved the black ski mask into my hoodie pocket, before throwing my phone into my cargo pants.

“Just this one for the week brother. Then you don’t need to worry about it till next week.” Nicholas Ruffilo said, smiling at me gently. He knew I hated this. He knew I wanted it to stop.

“How many more fucking weeks, huh? It’s been years. I’m sick of this shit.” I snapped, and Nicholas, being the glue of this group, placed his hands on my shoulders.

“I know,” he said, watching me cautiously.

A bitter laugh escaped Jolly’s lips, “What else are we going to do Noah? Magically pull a million bucks out of our asses?”

I loved Jolly, I really did. He was my oldest brother for as long as I can remember- but fuck, did I ever want to punch his face into the wall sometimes.

Jolly sat back in the wooden chair next to Folio, “You know the drill. It’s nothing new. We do what we gotta do to survive; how else are we going to pay back D?”

I shrugged Nicholas’ hand off my shoulder, muttering to myself in annoyance as I grabbed my combat boots, kicking my black vans underneath the cot. I tied up the laces, knotting together the memories of previous jobs, the back of my mind replaying years of regret.

Cracking open a beer, Jolly took a swig before mumbling, “Don’t forget you’re the whole reason we are in this mess in the first place.”

My head snapped up immediately, eyes locking onto his, ears burning a deep red as my face heated, “Yeah? Why don’t you say that again you fucking prick?”

Jolly raised his voice, sitting forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he leered into me, “I’m sick and tired of hearing it, Noah. Do you think we enjoy doing this too? Do you think we want this? Don’t complain about the work when you fucked us over first.”

My chest heaved as I grew irritated, eyes glaring as his words stabbed me, “I was fourteen!” I shouted, spit flying from my mouth, “I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t told me to in the first place!”

Nicholas reached for me again, pushing against my chest to hold me back. I aggressively hit his hand away, grabbing my backpack vigorously and throwing it over my shoulder.

“I didn’t tell you to do anything,” Jolly growled, watching me as my fists clenched, muscles tightening.

“You’re the one I’m supposed to look up to!” I yelled.

“It’s not my fault your parents died,” Jolly said, and both Nicks immediately turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment.

“Don’t you fucking bring them into this!”I screamed, seething, ready to lunge at the long-chestnut-haired man in front of me. Nicholas wrapped his arms around my chest, pulling me away. I squirmed against him, closing my eyes in anger as I fought the tears that brimmed them.

An hour ago I was sitting with one of the most beautiful humans I had ever laid my eyes on. I’ve never done anything as risky as spending time with someone I just met, especially someone like Y/N. She seemed so brave, so gentle… so worthy. How someone could captivate me within mere moments, left me baffled. I knew I was in complete infatuation, and I already felt myself craving to see her again. I have gotten a coffee from that cafe almost every day for a year; it’s the only stable part of my routine. Everything was always the same. The coffee, the customers, the servers, everything. Everything but Y/N. Seeing her threw me off, not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that felt like she was placed there as if maybe she was just for me. She seemed like a breath of fresh air in my stale, grey, lifeless world. Something about the way she spoke, how she seemed so mysterious, her wit and her beautiful fucking eyes.

Now here I was, being reminded that I was unworthy of anyone.

“Do you know where you’re going to go?” Nick asked me, pulling me from my thoughts. He handed me the joint, a way to divert from the tension,

I nodded, “I walked around a neighbourhood I’ve been eying lately, the one close to the coffee shop.” Wrapping my lips around the joint I inhaled, letting the smoke fill my throat and lungs. I coughed as I handed it back to Folio.

“Don’t you think that area is a little risky?” Nicholas said, raising a brow, “we spend enough time around there.”

I shrugged, “I scoped some places earlier. Close together and tight nit. Enough places to hide. Seems like most of the owners are elderly, it's an old neighbourhood.”

Nick took a final puff of the joint, before blowing out the smoke through open lips, placing the bud in the tray beside him, “Elderly is good. Lots of nice shit; if you sort through the useless junk. Bring the gun for the scare factor.”

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” I said as Nick held out the weapon, my finger grazing across the metal. Even through the glove, I felt its cool, metallic texture, my mind jumping back to the woman held before it earlier.

What am I even doing?

Shoving the gun into my waistband I opened the motel door, “See you guys later.” I nodded to each of them, eyes lingering on Jolly for a moment longer.

“Text if you need anything,” Jolly said through gritted teeth, taking another sip of his beer, and avoiding my gaze.

I walked down the wooden stairs, passing the rundown vinyl wall that lined the entire building. As I passed the paint-peeled doors listening to various arguments, and the sounds of sex. The scent of weed and stale alcohol lingered on the cement, decades of grime living within the premises, never fully washing away. As pathetic as it was, it smelled and sounded like home. It was all I had.

I pulled my hood over my head, letting my hair cascade as a shield around my face, my legs carrying me through the neighbourhood. It was 12:30 am, the nightlife bare as only a few cars passed by me, unaware of my felonies.

I wasn’t sure which house would be my victim tonight, but I prayed, to whoever God was, that it would be quick. Get in get out.

I placed an earpod in my ear, scrolling through songs, before choosing The Apparition. Perhaps, if this is all a dream, I can go back to the time I met her. As they say, ignorance is bliss; and I was tired of consciousness.

And it remains With me to this day No matter what I do This scar will never fade

+++++

Y/N

I clocked out of work, sighing through the exhaustion of my 12-hour day. Thankfully my bar shift was only four hours, but I was tired regardless, knowing I had about 8 hours till I had to be back at the cafe, to do it all over again. I reapplied my red lipstick in an attempt to hydrate my lips, the crisp 1 am air biting at my cheeks. Thankfully home was only a ten-minute walk away, and the only motivation carrying me was that my warm, comfortable bed was waiting for me; and my cat.

I also couldn’t help but still feel giddy about meeting Noah earlier today. My heart yearned as I reminisced about his smile and mysterious aura. My stomach churned with butterflies from the exhilaration. Was this just a one-time thing? Never in a million years would I have thought I’d go on a ‘date’ with someone I just met; but It’s not like I do much other than work. My life needed that little bit of excitement.

I sang to myself, letting the incitement of possibly receiving a text from him in the morning carry me through the dread of working tomorrow. I let my thoughts wander to ridiculous daydreams as I reached the front door of my townhouse. I put the key in, twisting it; realizing I locked the door.

Shit, did I leave it unlocked this morning? I know I was tired…but I’m pretty good at remembering that.

With furrowed brows I opened the door, closing it and double checking it was locked. My orange cat, Juice, was not sitting by the door in his usual spot. Every time he heard the door he was always right there, waiting. None of the lights were on, which usually never worried me; but I knew that I kept the living room lamp on so it wouldn’t be dark when I got home. Maybe the power went out.

“Juice?” I called out, my stomach beginning to churn with a dreadful feeling. Something wasn’t right. The house was eerily silent as I walked quietly toward the kitchen.

“Juju baby? Where are you?” I yelled, turning on the kitchen light. I placed my bag on the counter, listening intensely for his meow.

The floor creaked above me in what sounded like a pattern of footsteps, and I froze in place. That was too loud to be a cat.

There was rustling above the stairs and my breath hitched in my throat as my heart raced. I felt my pulse radiate through my ears as I reached for the biggest kitchen knife from the block. The adrenaline rushed through me as I slinked towards the stairs from the kitchen.

I peered up the stairs into the darkness, the only source of light coming from the windows, illuminating the crevasses of the doors upstairs. Another creek sounded and I watched the shadow dance along the wall as the door to my bedroom opened. With shallow breaths I carried myself up the stairs, tiptoeing, barely allowing myself to exhale in fear I would be too loud.

This is how people get murdered in horror movies you dumb bitch.

As my heart pounded heavily underneath my rib cage, I made it to the top of the stairs, turning on the light to the hallway.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and I screamed, deep from my diaphram; but the only thing appearing was my cat; wide-eyed and meowing.

“Jesus Christ cat!” I yelled, falling onto my knees as I scooped him into my arms, running his orange fur through my fingers.

“You scared the absolute shit out of me,” I let out a breathy laugh, mocking myself for being so silly, before kissing the top of his head. Juice wriggled in my arms, letting out a meow to be put down. I placed him on the floor and he ran into my room. Shaking my head I placed the knife on the bannister, following Juice.

He sat on my bed, meowing towards my mirrored closet as I entered. Turning on the lamp next to my bed, I pet him, “What? Are you hungry? Your bowl is literally full.”

I pulled off my sweater, throwing it into the laundry hamper. Juice began hissing and I stared at him confused.

“What the hell is-”

A hand covered my mouth before I finished my sentence, and I immediately screamed into it, my sounds muffled into the gloved appendage. Another arm wrapped around my torso as my eyes widened with fear, and I froze in place, held tightly against the captor’s chest.

I felt the pace of their heart match my own, their chest heaving up and down heavily.

They turned our bodies towards the mirror and I stared at the reflection, tears beginning to fall from the terror I felt.

The man behind me towered over me, his grip never loosening from my body. Everything was covered except his eyes and mouth, peeking through a black ski mask.

I whimpered against his hand my stomach sinking at the sight of the gun that poked through his black cargo pants, but the most terrifying thing of all was the scent of Dior cologne.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He said, accent burning into my memory, and I watched him in the mirror. It was him. Noah. I knew his voice, this had to be his cologne.

A wave of dread filled my body and I began shaking, crying into his hand. He followed me home, I never should have gone out with a stranger. How could I be so fucking stupid?

“I’m going to leave, and you’re going to let me. Understood?” I nodded, tears drying on my cheeks as I watched his every move. He closed his eyes, as if in regret before he took a deep breath. I don’t think he knows I know who he is, but there was no way in hell I was going to get killed being a crying little bitch. I’m going to harm this motherfucker and get his ass thrown into jail.

“Please don’t scream,” He said, his grip loosening on my body, and when he fully let go I swung around, kicking him forcefully in the family jewels. Noah fell onto his knees, a deep guttural groan emanating from his throat as he held himself in agony. I scrambled into the hallway, grabbing the knife off the bannister and pointing it towards my door.

“You fucking followed me you creep!” I screamed, anger seeping through me, “You’re a fucking lowlife, get out of my house or I’m calling the cops, Noah.” His name crawled off my tongue while dripping with complete disgust, the syllables sickening. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, fingers shaking as I typed in 9-1-1.

“I swear to god I had no idea this was your house,” He said pained as he crouched out of my bedroom, “please Y/N, don’t call the cops.”

“Why shouldn’t I call the cops!” I yelled. Noah’s eyes darted between the phone and me, following my thumb as it hovered over the green call button.

“Just don’t,” Noah said, holding himself against the door. I pressed the button, holding it up to my ear as it dialled.

Noah immediately looked frantic, before his hand reached for the gun placed in his waistline, pulling it out and pointing it at me. Immediately I froze, and the voice of the 9-1-1 operator was dampened by the drowning ringing of panic.

“Hang up,” Noah whispered, the gun shaking in his hands through his demand.

“Hello? Are you there?” The lady on the phone said.

“Y/N, hang up, please.”

Time felt frozen as I stared at the gun, memories flooding back from the murder of my parents. My bottom lip trembled, the phone falling from my hands, onto the carpeted floor. My body was stiff, completely locked in place.

“Hello?”

Noah’s other hand reached out gently, palm open and inviting; countering the symbolism of the weapon present in his other hand. He reached down towards the phone, ending the call.

He let out a sigh of relief, hanging his head in guilt. Throwing the gun to the floor, he kicked it towards the bathroom, before pulling the mask off, revealing the face I yearned for earlier.

He looked broken, and torn, as he watched me completely crumble before him, the panic attack rising in my lungs.

“I- I didn't mean to scare you I- I” Noah began to stutter frantically, moving towards me, “I can’t have the cops come- I can’t leave my brothers.”

I fell to the floor, holding my knees to my chest as I stared at the gun by the bathroom, terror taking over. My breathing became erratic as I began to hyperventilate.

“I swear to god I’m not going to hurt you,” Noah leaned down, sitting in front of me as he held my wrists.

I tried to take in breaths, I tried to pull myself away from him but I couldn’t move. I gasped for air, suffocating myself, unable to exhale.

“Breathe,” Noah’s hands now grabbed either side of my face, “please Y/N breathe!”

His eyes ran across my entire face, holding me, “Count back from 100 in 3’s with me, ok?”

“100, 97, 94, 91, 88…” Noah began, and I followed.

“85, 82, 79…” I choked out, and Noah’s grip on my face loosened, and he moved his hands to hold my own.

I wanted to run away so badly, I was terrified, but at the same time I was scared I wouldn’t be able to breathe again.

Noah counted with me, demonstrating a stable breathing pattern and my chest followed his own, mimicking him, “58, 55, 52, 49…”

Finally, we reached zero, and my breathing was normal. I retracted my hands from his own violently, pulling them into my chest as I scooted away from him as if he were the most vile thing in the world.

“I don’t know whether to say fuck off,” I said, glaring, “or thank you.”

Noah watched me with worry before he ran his gloved hand over his face. Realizing they were still on he groaned in frustration, peeling off the leather angrily and tossing them to the side, his tattooed hands now exposed.

I watched as his fingers shook, my eyes following the outline of the flower once again.

“I’m sure you don’t believe me but I swear I didn’t know this was your house.” He began, holding his hands up in surrender. His eyes looked at me, pleading.

He looked so genuine, so sincere, he had to be telling the truth; but fuck that.

“You’re right, I don’t,” I snarled, “But what the hell were you doing in someone else’s house anyway?” I wiped my mouth, the lipstick I put on earlier smudged across my skin. I probably looked like a complete mess right now. Noah watched, eyes tracing my lips.

“I- I swear If I could tell you I would,” Noah rambled again, looking at the carpeted floor, “but I-”

A loud triple-knock at the door interrupted his sentence, and he stared at me with wide eyes, the colour draining from his face.

“This is LAPD!”A loud voice boomed from the other side of the door, the doorknob turning, attempting to open.

“Shit,” Noah mumbled, looking around the hallway frantically. He stood up, searching for something before he stared down at me, an idea clicking in his mind. Noah tore his sweater off, along with his black tank top underneath, leaving him shirtless before me.

“What the hell are you doing!” I whisper-yelled, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

“Kiss me,” He said, kneeling in front of me again, complete distress and fear glazing over his eyes.

“Excuse me?” I now yelled, a little too loud as the door below us rattled again.

“LAPD! Open up!”

“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah’s eyes bore into my own as he begged, “Trust me, just this once, please Y/N.”

I analyzed Noah’s features, his deep October eyes imploring.

Call me crazy, but somehow I obliged, leaning in with permission. Noah’s hands gripped the back of my head, fingers tangled through my hair as he pulled me onto him, kissing me with complete desperation.

Holy shit this was a really long chapter I am so sorry, but I hope you enjoyed it! I am excited to continue!! <3

Chapter two

#burning out fanfic #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #smut #bad omens smut

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seabirdtxt · 7 months

Text

.Irminsul --amend -m 'Scaramouche'

Nahida has called in the book club to try and start discussions about the Creator's situation. Cyno actually kinda knows what he's talking about and Alhaitham is... mostly there for moral support... [< prev] [Blog Tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. Separate warning for my writing being all over the place on this one. all relationships are currently platonic!

WC. 2.6k

----- ⚘ -----

There’s not much to do except wait for Alhaitham and Cyno to show up, unfortunately, so you have taken to chatting with Nahida and Aranyani about some of the games and toys that exist back on Earth. Aranyani seems to be interested in the mechanics of each, comparing them to existing games in Teyvat, while Nahida is more interested in trying them out for herself, someday.

Scaramouche doesn’t seem interested in the conversation, but he sits with the three of you anyway and watches the shadows of birds moving beyond the stained glass windows.

You’d just been explaining the concept of the rubix cube and algorithms to the two gods when a sure knock is heard on the sanctuary doors. Scaramouche takes the opportunity to make his escape from the conversation, shuffling to the door and opening it for the newcomers.

Cyno steps in, followed by Alhaitham, and the two of them hold each other at a polite distance as they walk down toward the dais, where the rest of you stand to greet them.

“Hello, my friends!” Nahida exclaims, smiling brightly and clasping her hands together even as she and Aranyani take a gracious step back to allow you and the newcomers space. “Thank you so much for being here! We have a lot to discuss!”

“We came as soon as we heard,” Cyno replies, nodding. He then turns to you with a little salute. “Your Grace, it is an honor to be in your presence.”

You put your hands up placatingly. “Please, there’s no need for formality…” you say, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as everyone looks at you. You clear your throat and gesture for the newcomers to continue.

“We heard about the circumstances after your arrival in Teyvat,” Alhaitham states, stepping around Cyno, stopping at his side and crossing his arms. Straight to the point. “Do you remember the circumstances that led up to your descent? It might help point toward the root cause, and shed light on the ‘how’s and ‘why’s.”

“Uh, good question,” you mutter, scratching your head about it for a second. “I was probably hanging out in my room or something, really. Playing, uh, games on my phone.”

You wonder if it’s too early to mention that said game was Genshin, AKA. controlling their world. You know they’re marginally self-aware, but the extent of which still escapes you.

“Alright, and did you do anything different while you were playing on this ‘phone’? See anything strange?” Cyno picks up, pulling out a small notepad and quill. “Anything out of the ordinary, things that you don’t normally do or notice.”

“Well, my phone has been glitching a lot when I play games, lately,” you muse. “And I kept getting these buggy screens while I was in-game, but I figured that was just because my device was overheating or something. You know, they build them faulty on purpose so they can sell you a new one every few years? Apparently in France or something they made companies give people the right to repair their own phones, but we don’t have that where I live…”

Cyno writes down most of the first half of what you say, but you seem to lose the crowd as you ramble. He looks up from his notepad to fix you with a level stare, though you can tell there's just a hint of confusion behind his expression.

“Can you say something that makes sense to people who live in this world?” Scaramouche interjects somewhere in the middle of your rambling, the first time he spoke since you guys first teleported to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “Or at least stay on topic, or something.”

“Oh,” you reply, blinking. “Right.”

Cyno nods to you again, though he keeps glancing at Scaramouche out of the corner of his eye. Alhaitham doesn’t bother with subtlety, fixing the Balladeer with a level, analytical stare. Cyno clears his throat after a few seconds of awkward silence, preparing his notepad once more. “So, you were saying you played on this ‘phone’ device, aside from the problem you noticed, was there anything else you did differently?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “I was playing the game like I normally would, doing commissions and stuff. No, wait, actually I did do something a bit weird.”

This causes Cyno to perk up, and he leans forward onto the balls of his feet as he listens attentively.

“Because the game was overheating my phone, my ping was super slow,” you explain. “So I was lagging pretty badly. I was doing one of the leylines in the jungle and I was spamming the interact button on the flower because I was getting impatient…”

“And then?”

“... And then I think another dialogue box popped up, but I didn’t notice what it said.” You finish, sighing. “After that, I just remember waking up beside a leyline thingy right here in Teyvat.”

“Do you remember the exact location of the leyline?” Alhaitham asks, to which you shake your head.

“The Traveler and Wanderer found me not too long after that, and took me straight to the city. They probably have a better idea than I do, honestly. I didn’t really have a chance to figure out where I was, at the time…”

“Do you recall any distinctive landmarks? Anything that stood out in an otherwise unremarkable location?”

You shake your head again, trying to remember what you saw. “No, uh, I was a little bit distracted by discovering I was suddenly in- uh, in Teyvat, and-”

“So you were not already aware of your location when you descended?” Cyno clarifies. You nod quickly.

“I only figured out it was Sumeru when the Traveler started bringing me closer to the city,” you agree, wringing your hands nervously under the general’s gaze. “The few little houses and tents that started popping up, the architecture kinda gave it away…”

“Were there any inconsistencies you noticed between your knowledge of Teyvat and the actual Teyvat when you arrived?” Cyno asks, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “Just to make sure you’re in the correct version.”

“Well, funny you should mention that,” you figure it wouldn’t hurt to share this, given the result of it sitting right next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, Nahida is giving you a thumbs up. “I got hurt touching a leyline, not the same one as when I first got here, though! I got a little cut on my hand, because the leaves are a bit sharper than I was expecting…”

Alhaitham’s attention shifts from the Balladeer back to you. “What happened when you were injured?”

“I, uh, I accidentally made Irminsul recover some deleted information.” You simplify as best as you can. “And now there’s several things that were added back to the world that aren’t technically supposed to be here...”

“I’ve never heard of leylines doing that, before,” Cyno remarks. “Then again, it’s not every day the Creator descends to Teyvat.”

“Have you tried going back to the same location to see if it yields reverse results?” Alhaitham wonders aloud, seeming amused by the strange predicament.

“And what is that supposed to achieve?” Scaramouche interrupts again, snorting as he crosses his arms. “Besides going for a leisurely stroll through the jungle, I mean. Irminsul already recovered the missing data, and the location itself doesn’t matter, if you haven’t noticed already, since you can find a leyline just about anywhere.”

“It’s certainly an unprecedented behavior for leylines,” Cyno agrees. “But again, the Creator has never descended before-”

“We heard you the first time,” Scaramouche deadpans, earning him a smack upside the head courtesy of you. “Ow! Do you want to figure this stuff out or not?”

“Be nice,” you grumble, though you do feel slightly annoyed at the repetitive line of questioning. “He’s just ruling things out, right?” You turn to Cyno, nodding encouragingly for him to continue.

“Ley lines are a complicated but fascinating subject to study,” Cyno states, crossing his arms and tucking his notebook under one elbow. “However, I’m afraid interdimensional travel is a little bit outside Spantamad’s realm of expertise.”

“Honestly, that’s fair,” you give a resigned sigh, but Scaramouche cuts you off.

“But how’s that supposed to help you?” He sneers and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s like you want to be stuck here forever with no explanation for how you got here in the first place.”

“Can we just chalk it up to magic or something?” You ask sheepishly, a little embarrassed at having taken the time out of two of Sumeru’s most important figures’ days.

“I was looking forward to hearing about how you got into this predicament with your own two idiot hands, honestly.”

“What I want to know,” Alhaitham suddenly interjects, surprising everyone else with his initiative. “Is how the Creator and the Dendro archon are here, cozying up to a Fatui harbinger?”

Four pairs of eyes blink at him in surprise, while Cyno nods in agreement.

“I think that’s the more pressing matter, here,” he agrees, and you can sense the tingle of static in the air as his previously-relaxed grip on his notebook starts to tighten.

“Okay, see, that’s one of the things I was talking about!” You say quickly, the words leaving you in a rush in hopes of stemming the building tension in the sanctuary. “He was a harbinger before, but he’s all better now!”

“You say that like it was an illness,” Scaramouche snorts, to which you can only laugh.

“Yeah? As if you didn’t act a little bit sick in the hea-”

Nahida, who up until now has been doing an excellent job of pretending to mind her own business, decides to chime in before the general can come to his own conclusion.

“I apologize for not warning you two earlier, but I do have it on good authority—that authority being myself,” she hides her giggle with the palm of her hand, “that the Balladeer poses no harm to either of you, or the Creator!”

“It’s also kinda my fault that he’s here, so I mean…” You trail off and give an apologetic shrug.

“How did you know I was a harbinger?” Scaramouche’s eyes narrow at Alhaitham and he crosses his arms as well, mirroring both the scribe and Cyno. “As far as I've been told, the memory of ‘me’ was erased from Irminsul.”

Cyno shakes his head. “No, there is recorded evidence of the Balladeer’s involvement with the sages’ god-creation plan,” he corrects, relaxing very slightly after Nahida’s reassurance but not dropping his guard completely.

“I was present at the time of the Traveler’s investigation of the Joruri workshop, where they confronted the mechanical false god,” Alhaitham adds. “The person who fell from the machine indeed bears striking resemblance to you, but was confirmed to not be the Balladeer himself. However, Lord Kusanali’s own interjection confirms that you are indeed the Balladeer.”

“He’s been reformed,” you say cheerfully, but your mind is running a mile a minute. Evidently Nahida and Aranyani are on the same page, because the two goddesses drift closer with curious looks on their faces.

“So Irminsul has already started patching the holes in Teyvat’s history,” Nahida muses, hands on her hips. “It’s much faster than I anticipated, given the circumstances.”

“Not as surprising as you would think, little sprout,” Aranyani pats her head. “Irminsul is capable of very rapid computation, but the problem lies in resolving as many conflicting histories as possible. Two is faster, but three will cause some things to be shuffled around for a few days, still. The justification of the existence of multiple incarnations of the Balladeer may yet be subject to change.”

“So you’re saying that what we currently perceive as fact, is instead false?” Cyno asks, having retrieved his notebook once more. As the goddesses continue to muse on the subject, he writes down their theories and makes some notes of his own.

“I’d say sorry for that workshop fight,” Scaramouche says, addressing Alhaitham with a smug grin. “But I honestly didn’t even remember you being there. I guess you just weren’t that noteworthy to me at the time. No hard feelings, right?”

Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to grace him with a look, much to Scaramouche’s annoyance. Instead, the scribe quietly listens in on the Irminsul discussion.

Meanwhile, you try to remember what team you had when you took on the Archon quest fight. It’s been a while since then, and you’re not sure if you’re thinking of the right fight. Maybe you used Alhaitham in one of your weeklies? Speaking of which, do those boss fights exist in the world of Teyvat, or is that just for you as a player of the game? If they exist, how do the characters feel having to go beat up the same people on a weekly basis? What about the characters who are weekly bosses, like Wanderer, Childe, and Ei?

Thinking about it is starting to give you a headache.

You decide to tune back in as Nahida and Aranyani finish bouncing ideas between themselves, with Cyno furiously scribbling annotations in the margins of his notepad. What was it they were talking about again? You get the sense that maybe you should've paid a bit more attention.

“- that’s the case, then we should contact Inazuma and see if there is a new history that came up.” Cyno offers, to which Nahida shakes her head.

“If we ask directly, the answer we will get is the same.” She explains, wringing her tiny hands. “To them, this knowledge will have always existed. They will perceive it as an unchanged fact, in the same way you and the Scribe believe the circumstances of the Balladeer to be a fact. The better people to ask would be the ones involved in the anomaly.”

“Alright, and how do we find them?”

“See, that’s the funny part…” You begin, only to be interrupted by a sudden swirling pressure in the chamber.

It’s strange to see the teleportation from an outside perspective. You watch as Wanderer shimmers into existence, adjusting his hat. The metal charms on the ends of it chime as they settle. He looks up, catching sight of you first and raises a hand to wave, only to stop short when he sees the other guests.

“... Looks like I’m late to the party,” he remarks, drifting over to Nahida’s side. “Wanna catch me up to speed? Not that I care, but I might as well get the full picture so I can correct you where you're wrong.”

“I asked for the General and the Scribe to come visit so that we could get a better grasp on the Creator’s situation!” Nahida explains, smiling brightly at him.

“Great, and how did that go?”

Everybody chooses to look in different directions, unable to look Wanderer in the eye. You hear him heave an annoyed, but resigned, sigh.

“We might’ve gotten somewhere if Buer hadn’t sidetracked,” Scaramouche adds helpfully.

“And you might’ve gotten the groceries like you guys said you would, too, but here we are,” Wanderer crosses his arms, pinning you and Scaramouche with a pointed look.

You wince and turn around, subtly leaning over to Scara, whispering: “I actually forgot about that…”

“Me too…” he replies, not quite as quietly as you. You both startle as hands come down on both of your shoulders, Wanderer’s grinning face appearing between the two of you.

“Isn’t this just a splendid opportunity for you two to go find the traveler and restock our pantry, while Buer and I go over the details of what you clowns didn’t explain right?”

Scaramouche wastes no time wresting his shoulder out of Wanderer’s grasp with a noise of disgust. “Who do you think you are to order me around, teacher’s pet? I’ll go when I feel like it.” He sneers, stalking off toward the doors of the sanctuary.

You offer a light chuckle and a wry grin of apology to the others, who watch unimpressed at Scaramouche’s display, while Wanderer dismisses you with a shooing motion.

Right. Time to get those supplies.

#genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #genshin isekai #genshin wanderer #sagau wanderer #genshin scaramouche #sagau scaramouche #sagau x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #seabird.txt #glitch in irminsul au

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