#your fate was decided long ago. this was inevitable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dottores · 11 months

Text

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, reader gets a bit hurt in this chapter but only briefly.

notes: y'all we are officially 50k words in omg what a milestone. we are almost there--they are going to meet soon... but technically.... well you'll see. there are THREE special cameos in this chapter

A WARM WELCOME

“Now is not the time, doctor.”

Pantalone didn’t even raise his head to look at Dottore as he scribbled away at whatever parchment he was writing on. Dottore pressed his lips together, eyes cold beneath his mask as he watched Pantalone, unmoving. The windows of his office creaked against the winds outside, fireplace crackling to keep the room warm but other than that, silence rang loudly between the two of them.

Finally, when Dottore made no move to leave, Pantalone looked up. “What is it? I have a week to prepare for the induction of the Eleventh. I don’t have time for petty complaints.”

Dottore should be insulted, he could feel his irritation rising at the man’s comment but he forced himself to push it away. He had more important things to deal with, notably, his soulmate and as much as he hated to admit it, Pantalone’s resources were necessary if he wanted to find her before someone else did… before she got herself and by extension, him, hurt.

“You offered me resources a few years ago,” Dottore finally said, watching Pantalone carefully for a reaction. “I would like them now.”

The Regrator was a sharp man. Dottore did not have to go into detail for purple eyes to flicker down to his thumb, where the red thread connected him to his soulmate. He watched as Pantalone’s brows furrowed, as he tried to figure out why the sudden change after years of Dottore denying her very existence to him.

“You have terrible timing, doctor,” Pantalone murmured, pushing the parchments aside as he leaned back in his seat to look up at Dottore. “My resources have been all but expended between the upcoming event and trying to track down that menace to the east who has been slaughtering our underlings.

Dottore’s lips twisted. “It is not my timing that is terrible,” he said coolly, Pantalone raised his eyebrows and Dottore exhaled. “It’s hers. I believe she is here. In Snezhnaya.”

Pantalone exhaled, turning his head to the side to look out the window. “That’s not good,” he murmured.

“I know that,” Dottore said shortly.

“Why not send one of your segments?” Pantalone asked after a moment, pen tapping against the wood of his desk in an unsteady manner that had Dottore’s eye twitching in annoyance.

“They’re busy,” Dottore answered tensely.

A lie. Both Epsilon and Rho were back in Snezhnaya City with nothing to do until Dottore decided what research he wanted them to continue on after finishing a round of successful experiments in Archon residue down in southern Liyue. Dottore just didn’t want to send them after her.

Epsilon was Epsilon. He could not trust that the segment wouldn’t do something foolish driven by the emotions that the rest of them did not have or were not capable of understanding. He was the one that Dottore worried about the most ever since the thread appeared, fearing that he would do something that would irreparably strengthen the bond… like forcing Dottore to meet her because he thought it would be best for them.

And Rho had been the one most vocal about at least letting the kids meet her and if the kids met her, he knew it would inevitably lead to Dottore meeting her and that was the last thing he wanted.

He had a feeling that Pantalone could read right through the excuse if the unimpressed look on his face had anything to say about it but Dottore did not waver, raising his chin and staring down at where the man was sitting.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the resources to look for her right now,” Pantalone finally said, shaking his head and scooching his chair back to ruffle through one of the drawers of his desk. “If you can send one of your segments to take out the threat in the east, I might be able to conjure some up and have them keep an eye out but right now my hands are tied.”

“Fine,” Dottore said sharply. “Give me the information you’ve gathered. I’ll send a segment to track him down and kill him.”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows again, this time not even bothering to ask the question that Dottore knew was dancing through his mind: I thought your segments were busy, he could hear the mocking words just through the man’s expression.

Instead, Pantalone just slid a thick folder across the desk to give to Dottore. He snatched it and tucked it under his arm, intent on passing it off to Rho before he returned to his labs, waiting for Pantalone to confirm that he would look for her.

“We don’t want him dead. We want him captured,” Pantalone warned. “Pierro wants information from him… then I’ll convince him to pass him off to you. Another test subject, you’re welcome.”

Dottore only smiled thinly. “And the girl?” he pressed.

“I’ll do what I can,” Pantalone said. “What do you know about where she is? Western or Eastern Snezhnaya? The border? I need to be able to narrow down the search, I can’t send men all across Snezhnaya with the upcoming event. I need them in the city to prepare for the arrivals of the aristocrats.”

“I know that she is in Snezhnaya,” Dottore told him. Maybe he would know more if he would swallow his pride and reach out to her, but that simply was not an option.

Pantalone stared at him, irritation thinly veiled behind his purple eyes. “You do not like making things easy, do you?” the corners of Pantalone’s eyes crinkled in annoyance at Dottore’s words before he finally sighed, shaking his head.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he finally repeated, “but with nothing to go on, I can make no promises that I’ll find her before someone else does… so, for all of our sakes, I suggest you try to narrow that down.”

It was cold.

You knew that was something you should have expected and you thought you prepared adequately for it but now, you thought that no amount of preparation could have made you ready to face this. As soon as you had crossed over into Snezhnaya, the temperature had plummeted, the sheer cold was beyond anything you had ever felt before--cold enough to crack the stones of the buildings in the small villages littered throughout the countryside, cold enough to freeze you from the inside out.

Traveling during the night simply wasn’t feasible, as soon as the sun crossed the horizon, the already bone-chilling temperatures plunged further. You had been lucky the first night when you were traveling down the main road deeper into the northlands--you had bumped into an older man traveling back to his home from the one of the villages, he had ushered you back to his place and he and his wife had looked after you, warning you that you wouldn’t live through the night without shelter in Snezhnaya.

Since then, it’d been a game of survival. The deeper you got into Snezhnaya, the more winding and confusing the roads became, the harder it became to track down villages to find inns to stay at and the more nervous it made you about finding shelter for the night. You thought that Snezhnaya was a trap laid out for foreigners, only those who were born and raised there knew how to navigate the lands without meeting an untimely end.

The tundra of the east appeared endless, a daunting venture you dared not make, and the forests of the west were dark and maze-like with dangerous creatures prowling about and the threat of getting lost and not making it to an inn before night fell was high… but the forest was the only way through to the mountain range south of the Snezhnayan capital city. If you wanted to get to the heart of the Fatui, you would have to trek through the forest and pray you stumbled upon one of the villages before the sunset.

You exhaled, leaning back in your seat at the bar of the inn you were staying at as you swirled your empty glass between your fingers. You had reached the end of the main road, the only way further into Snezhnaya was through the forest now but the thought of entering it made you anxious. A part of you thought you might be better off heading back home.

“Another?” the bartender questioned as he walked by you but you only shook your head, thanking him quietly as you remained lost in your own thoughts.

You couldn’t turn back. Not now, not yet. You had promised yourself and your father that you wouldn’t return home until you had ample evidence to bring this to court… unless you died trying to get it.

Your grandfather didn’t want you going north. He thought that no amount of evidence would be worth you risking your life for but you disagreed. You didn’t think there was any world in which you’d be able to live with yourself knowing you didn’t even try.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed that he was looking at you again--the man sitting at a table in the corner of the room. You couldn’t see his face, there was a hood masking it from view but you could feel his eyes on you, he’d been watching you for nearly thirty minutes now. A part of you wanted to confront him, grab your stuff and head over to his table and demand to know why he kept staring at you but… the more logical part of you knew you shouldn’t. You didn’t know why he was staring at you and all of the worst possibilities were running through your head:

Does he know what you’re here for?

Is he Fatui?

Is he planning on attacking you?

Your vision vibrated from where it was hidden beneath your cloak, warning you to prepare for a battle but you were not the battle type. You had never learned how to wield your vision in a combat manner and you didn’t know if he had a vision or not, you only knew that he had a large claymore set down on the seat next to him and all you had was a small blade that couldn’t even be called a sword. You had only learned to use your vision in the way your father and grandfather taught you when you were younger and it was not something you enjoyed doing to people.

Finally, you forced yourself to stand up. Your gaze caught the window on the far end of the room as you rose to your feet--it was dark already, night had fallen and the hazard of the cold had become even more real.

With a sharp inhale, you turned on your heel to make your way over to the table the man was sitting at. You watched as his head turned to follow you as you approached him and you watched as his body tensed, gloved fingers gripping the edge of the table tight as you slid onto the bench across from him.

“Is there a reason you keep staring at me?” you finally asked. You leaned back against the wall that the bench was placed against, feigning ease, but your legs were tense, ready to move at the first sign of an attack.

“You’re not from here,” the man said after a moment of silence, you caught a glimpse of red beneath the hood he wore. His accent was foreign--unlike the Snezhnayan dialect you’d become used to throughout your travels.

“Neither are you,” you retorted. He shifted back in his seat, the lighting of the inn revealing equally red hair hanging in his eyes, cold and empty with something dark thinly veiled behind them that made your skin crawl--eyes that had witnessed massacre, eyes that promised vengeance. Vengeance for what? You didn’t know. You weren’t sure you wanted to know, you knew it would lead to nothing good.

You suddenly felt as if you had made a mistake.

“There aren’t many foreigners this deep in Snezhnaya,” he noted cooly. “Just merchants… are you a merchant?”

Somehow, you felt as if ‘yes’ was the wrong answer.

He was accusing you of something, you could feel it in your bones but you didn’t know what he was accusing you of. Being a spy? Was he Fatui?

“I’m not a merchant,” you said, taking in a small puff of air when you caught the blood smeared across the man’s chin and neck as the hanging lights in the middle of the tavern swayed a bit. His lips pressed together subtly at your words and your vision was becoming even more erratic--danger, danger, danger, it warned you.

Somehow, you knew now that ‘no’ had been the wrong answer too.

“It’s hard traveling through Snezhnaya without knowing what paths to take, you can get lost easily… all of the paths on the old maps have been snowed out,” he responded. “How’d you make do?”

“An older couple living off the main road pointed me in the right direction,” you told him. “How about you? Are you a merchant?”

You knew he wasn’t. No merchant traveled with blood staining their faces and a weapon the size of the average person. He had no goods that he had arrived with, he’d shown up at the inn a little after you had with only his sword in tow and his eyes were unfriendly and glacial, unlike the faux charisma that painted the expressions of merchants as they tried to get you to buy their products.

The man stared at you for a moment and then he said, “No,” with no further explanation.

The Fatui usually traveled in groups or as pairs. He had a foreign accent. He wore no mask or sigil that affiliated him with the organization as they usually did. Who the hell was he?

And then you remembered the hushed whispers of the elderly couple you had stayed with--warning you that the Fatui had become more active in their area because of a belligerent wreaking havoc throughout central Snezhnaya who had been spotted at a nearby inn. They told you to take care because they didn’t think that the Fatui would take kindly to any outsider in the area so long as the hostile remained terrorizing their strongholds but…

Was this…?

You watched him carefully, trying to figure it out without having to ask. You were several miles from where you had been staying with them now and it had been two and a half days. Traveling through Snezhnaya was slow and arduous, the wind fought you with every step and half of the time you were dragging yourself through snow that reached your knees.

If this was him, then maybe…

You didn’t even have a chance to finish the thought, head snapping to the side as the door to the inn slammed open and cold air rushed through the tavern at the entrance, blowing out half of the candles keeping the room lit up. Your stomach churned uncomfortably and from the corner of your eye, you watched as the man you were sitting with reached for his weapon.

Who the hell was traveling in the dead of night?

Your throat felt tight as you watched another hooded figure step into the inn. You couldn’t make out his features in the dim lighting, you couldn’t even tell if he was armed or not but there was an odd vial that glowed blue even in the dark hanging from his right ear.

The bartender had paused in making a drink for one of the other patrons of the tavern, a wary look visible on his face that you caught as the chandelier swung dangerously beneath a harsh wind. You let out a shaky breath, the cold from outside was already creeping beneath your cloak and freezing your skin. You wondered why no one was shouting at him to close the damn door like they did to other people who arrived until the bartender finally spoke up, voice shaky:

“Lord Harbinger,” he breathed out. “How can I-”

The man’s head turned in your direction--no, you realized, not your direction, his--and that was the only warning you got before the world around you exploded.

The entire right side of his body felt like it was on fire. Dottore let out a spew of curses as his hand spasm and he dropped the vial he had been studying right to the ground, watching as the glass shattered and the silvery liquid splattered all over the floor, dissolving the tiles and eating through the ground.

Dottore exhaled, briefly shutting his eyes before looking down at the mess on the floor. His lips twisted in annoyance as he realized he was going to have to restart what he had been testing but the annoyance very quickly faded, instead shifting into confusion as the pain persisted. His gaze drew over to his arm--nothing was wrong with it on the surface level but it was a blinding type of pain that had him gritting his teeth, like a jagged blade was tearing through his bicep.

It was…

He hadn’t felt anything from her in nearly two weeks. No anxiety, no fear, no anger or sadness and certainly not any pain. He stared down at his arm, where the pain was coming from, and not for the first time since the accursed thread showed up, Dottore had no idea what to do. He thought that he should reach out to her, figure out what was going on and get a general idea of where she was so he could send one of his segments to find her. The pain was more than anything he had ever experienced through her and he wasn’t sure if it was just because she had a low pain tolerance and he was feeling what she was, or if it was because the pain was actually that bad.

Neither boded well for her.

But if he reached out to her, if she was fighting someone, it could distract her.

Dottore’s teeth grit together. He didn’t know what would happen to him or the segments if she died. He didn’t know how it would affect them. Logically, he thought it shouldn’t affect them at all. They hadn’t met her yet and if the bond worked anything like how they believed it did, it shouldn’t take effect until after they met, which wasn’t going to happen… but after two weeks of silence, Dottore was unsure. Every day that passed, an odd, unfamiliar feeling expanded through his chest. He didn’t know how to describe it besides overwhelming and unwelcome but he knew it was because of her silence and the lack of communication through the bond. It caused an emptiness that made him question everything they had learned about the bond.

And if mere silence could cause that, he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk knowing what her death would cause.

Are you okay?

He asked it before he could decide against it, taking a seat back down at the lab table he had been working at as he waited for a response. Each second felt like an eternity, he could hear the silver liquid still eating through the ground below, sizzling and cracking as the floor dissolved wherever it touched the substance.

He wondered if she would just ignore him like he did to her for years on end.

But then, his forearm stung--a familiar feeling that he hadn’t experienced in two weeks now. He hated how that empty feeling he hadn’t been able to get rid of since he had pushed her away immediately disappeared. It made him feel weak… as if he had no control over his own emotions like a puppet on a string being commanded by a stranger. He glanced down at his arm, red eyes flying over the words that had appeared.

Does it feel like I’m okay?

At once, he rolled his eyes, regretting reaching out to her. He rose to his feet again, pacing across the room to get the tools he needed to clean the mess of his mistake but before he even got halfway there, the pain tripled and a creeping fear began to spread through his chest. He grimaced as he leaned on a nearby counter, trying to regain control over himself but he found that he couldn’t--her fear and pain was simply too intense.

What happened?

He slid down against the counter he was leaning on until he was sat on the floor. He watched the silvery liquid from the corner of his eye, watching as it ate through the ground closer and closer to him as he waited for a response from her. He despised how he couldn’t compartmentalize her feelings. He had learned how to separate them from his and the other segments but he had never figured out how to store them away and convert them into something that was easier for him to process.

Attacked.

Dottore felt cold. His gaze drew over to the window on the opposite wall of his lab--it was dark out, the sun had long set and the wind was harsh. He wondered if the coldness was a result of the damning realization that she was in trouble or if it was because she was outside. Either way, Dottore needed to act--if she was still being attacked, he had to get one of the segments there and if she was stuck in the cold running after being attacked, she would die to nature.

Dottore tried to push away the rising anger--the fury that never failed to appear whenever he was put into an impossible situation because of this bond, whenever he felt like the gods were looking down at him and laughing as he played right into their sick games.

Who attacked you? Where are you?

He shot out questions to her at a rapid speed, the pain was getting worse on his end. He could feel a light-headedness and a fuzzy feeling beginning to seep through his body and mind. She had to be losing blood and too much of it. If she passed out, that would be the end. She’d be killed by the attacker or she’d be killed by the cold, there was no other fate that awaited her.

Don’t know. An inn at -------

Dottore stared at the indecipherable words branded onto his forearm--he wasn’t sure if they were scribbles or an ancient language that he just couldn’t understand, another way for the gods to laugh at him by dangling the answer wants right in front of his face but making it so that he couldn’t understand it.

What do you mean you don’t know? Figure it out.

Dottore wondered if she could sense his irritation at her response. He didn’t really care if she could, maybe it would make her think harder.

Fatui, finally scrawled itself on his forearm and Dottore thought he might want to throw something because he had called it the moment that he had realized she might be coming north, he knew that between her being a foreigner and their subordinates being anxious over the masked hostile running through their camps that something would happen. They called him Lord Harbinger.

Dottore stared at the words trying to piece together what was going on. Lord Harbinger? Pulcinella and Pantalone were rarely, if ever, sent on missions that would end in combat. As far as he was aware, Brighella was at Zapolyarny Palace working with Pierro on something. Capitano was traveling north from Natlan for the initiation of the new Harbinger in a few days, he’d be on a boat traveling the western sea. Scaramouche? It could-

He had a blue earring, it was bright.

A blue earring, he was acutely aware of the one hanging from his own ear, mind racing as he tried to remember where each of the segments were. Lambda and Theta were in Sumeru. Zeta was in Mondstadt. Delta and Iota were on the Fontaine border. Gamma, Epsilon and Kappa were all hanging around his labs.

Rho, it dawned on Dottore suddenly. He had sent the segment south to track down the belligerent because their subordinates had proved incapable. He had mentioned that he was closing in on the man. Had she gotten caught in the crossfire? Was she traveling with him?

No, that wasn’t possible. All reports had claimed that the hostile was traveling alone.

Rho, Dottore spit out, reopening the connection with the segment, intent on having him find the girl and drag her back across the border into Fontaine. Where are you?

Not now, Rho responded, voice cold and angry. It took a lot to anger Rho, he had tight control over his temper unlike the Theta and Delta segments. Dottore could feel something stinging his cheek, a cut--he wondered if the hostile had actually managed to land a blow on him, no matter how small. It would explain why he was so angry.

Get back to where you came from. Now.

Now? Rho demanded, livid. I’m on him.

She was there. At the inn. The reaction was instantaneous as Rho’s resolve wavered. If she dies because of you, you won’t even get the relief of deactivation.

Dottore rose to his feet again once he was certain that Rho had turned back, pacing across the length of his lab, careful to step over the melted ground where the substance had fallen.

Once he found her, this would all be over. He’d have Rho bring her back to Fontaine whether she liked it or not, and once he knew where she lived, he’d make sure to send one of the other segments to keep an eye on her so something like this would never happen again.

Finally, he would have some semblance of control over the bond for the first time since it appeared. He’d no longer be hanging onto her whims, he’d no longer have to stress about her getting herself hurt or killed and how it would affect him, he’d no longer be bound to this mess and he’d never have to worry about accidentally running into her because the segment would keep her confined to the city and he would stay far from it.

He’d send the Zeta segment. He couldn’t send Theta because he didn’t trust him not to do something rash. He couldn’t send Delta, Rho or Epsilon because the younger segments were attached to them at the hip and they would press to meet her. Lambda was an option if he could ensure that the segment wouldn’t try to ‘handle her’ as he threatened to already.

Relief began to inch its way through him—too soon.

He had jinxed himself.

She’s not here, he heard Rho tell him. I don’t know-

Dottore closed the connection, biting back vile curses as he pressed his fingers to the bridge of the nose and tried to think.

Where could she have gone? It had only been a few minutes. She was hurt. She couldn’t have gotten far.

Where are you? He finally decided to ask her and he waited, and waited, and waited for a response but was only met with the empty silence he had become accustomed to the past two weeks.

“Where am I?”

Your eyes followed the cloaked figure carefully, trying to keep your breath steady as the pain coursing through your arm gradually subsided. Your gaze flickered to the side, watching as the red, bubbling skin of your right arm began to smooth and clear beneath whatever substance that had been smeared over the burns.

“What is this stuff?”

You had a lot of experience with using elemental energy to heal wounds. Fontaine City had some of the best medics throughout Teyvat--Wriothesley’s family’s special trait could call upon hydro energy to heal even the most fatal and grievous of wounds. He had never been able to wield it the way his family wanted him to but his grandfather was the best of the best, he had helped you when you had broken your arm and leg ten years ago after falling down the steps of the clocktower when exploring with Wrio.

This was not elemental energy. It was odd and cool, like gelatin, but it worked as fast as any medic--in no time, the pain was gone and the burns had vanished, leaving the skin of your arm unblemished again.

“Old magics,” the person responded. Their voice was low, androgynous. You couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman.

“Why did you help me?” you asked. “Who are you?”

You didn’t know where you were now--it was a dark room, a stone building with a fireplace on the opposite wall. The last you remembered, you had been in the snow. You had started to lose consciousness, the cold and the pain too much for your body to bear. You could barely even remember what had happened: you could picture the hooded man who you had been sitting with brandishing his claymore and the man that they had called Lord Harbinger meeting him blade for blade, pale fire coating his weapon and eating away at the wood of the inn, burning through your cloak down to the skin. You could hear the screams of the other patrons of the inn as they got caught in the crossfire of the battle between the two men.

And then you were here, in this room… with this person.

“Who are you?” you demanded, more insistently this time when you didn’t get a response.

Finally, a reaction from them. The flames flickered across their face as they turned to face you and finally, you got a glimpse beneath the hood… but it was not a human face that stared back at you. It was a mask, dark with a spade-like pattern around the eyes, a smile painted onto the plastic.

“No one,” they replied, “just a trouper.”

What? You thought to yourself, confused. Your nose wrinkled and your brows furrowed as you mulled over the word. A trouper? Like the entertainers at the Grand Theater?

“Why did you help me?” you tried again, raising your chin to meet the two voids in the eyeholes of the mask. They hadn’t tried to bind you or restrict your movement, they hadn’t even taken your weapon--just a bit of concentration and you could put yourself in control of the situation.

They tilted their head to the side, you couldn’t see their eyes or expression but you knew they were smiling, “Is that how you treat someone who saved you?”

You hadn’t even moved, you stared at them, unmoving, forcing your body to relax. How had they known what you were thinking? You weren’t a person that was easy to read--if you were, you would’ve been put on trial for treason a long time ago.

“Why did you save me?” you asked slowly, not letting them get out of answering the question.

“Because I want to help you.”

Yet again, they evaded the question. Your lips twisted in frustration, “Why?”

“Because I think we can help each other.”

There it was, you recognized, taking in a sharp breath. They wanted something from you. The air around you suddenly felt cold, as if the fire across the room had been snuffed out even though it was still burning bright. They were eerily still, almost like a statue as they watched you, waiting for a reaction.

“Why do you think that?” you asked carefully.

“Do you really think you can infiltrate the Fatui on your own?”

You were on your feet in an instant, reaching for the blade sheathed at your side but your eyes widened when you realized it wasn’t there. You only had half of a second to react before you found yourself backed up against the wall, a forearm pressed to your throat and the tip of your own blade pressed to your side, threatening to puncture the skin.

It had just been on you. How did they get it?

“Well?”

Well what? You wanted to scream, mind panicked and racing as you tried to force yourself to calm down and think but it was hard to concentrate with your air being half-restricted and a blade pressed to your ribcage.

They wanted you to answer their question, you realized, about infiltrating the Fatui.

“Yes,” you said but you weren’t even sure you believed it yourself. You kept telling yourself that you would figure out a plan once you got to the city and had a scope of the area and more information available to you but you had a feeling that nothing would change even once there. Zapolyarny Palace would be impenetrable.

“How?” they murmured, not letting up on you. You wanted to turn your face away, unnerved by the proximity of the mask, but you thought that would show you as weak and you couldn’t afford to show weakness, not right now. “Do you plan to storm the palace? Face the Harbingers and demand retribution for your father? Do you think you will fly under the radar of the Knave’s webs of spiders? That you can simply walk past the automatons of the Marionette prowling the streets of the capital city? You will find yourself a victim of the Doctor’s twisted experiments or the Friar’s sick games before you even hope to find the evidence you seek.”

You couldn’t mask your expression, not after hearing that. You stared at them, lips parting as if to speak but no words left them. You felt like a fish out of water--for the first time in a long time, you were fumbling for words, your tongue felt twisted and heavy.

How were you going to do it? The question laid atop you like a crown of thorns, tearing through your skin and scarring your face. You didn’t know. You didn’t know how you were going to do it. You used not being in the city as an excuse, convinced yourself that it was the only reason you haven’t thought up a plan yet but the truth was branded right on your face as you stared at the masked person: you simply didn’t know.

“I can help you,” they whispered, leaning in impossibly closer. “I can give you your in, the chance you need to find the proof.”

“How do you know all of this?” you finally asked and you hated how your voice cracked over your words but you were scared because if this person knew all of this then it could spell your end, just like that. All they had to do was send word to the Fatui and you’d have hell bearing down on your doors.

And if they knew about this…

“I know a lot,” they said cryptically. “Would you like me to help you?”

… did they know about your soulmate?

You let out another shaky breath, staring ahead. You didn’t know what to do. If you didn’t accept their help, would they sell you out to the Fatui? Or would they laugh and watch as you fumbled your way through Snezhnayan courts and fail to acquire what you had traveled all this way for? You could feel the pain ricocheting through your head, you could barely even think straight, much less come up with an answer.

If you did accept, you finally forced your head back on track, what did they want in return? That was what you needed to know.

“What would you want in return?”

“We don’t know yet,” they said quietly but their tone was not hesitant--if anything, it was amused. Finally, they released you, taking a step back to watch you. The eyes staring down at you were empty, like looking into an abyss.

A dangerous, dangerous gamble. It gave them too much power.

“No, I want to know what you want in return.”

We. You suddenly recognized how they referred to themself--we, not I, they were not working alone. You felt all the more suffocated at the realization.

“Then I guess we have no deal,” they said with a sigh, making a move to leave the room the two of you were in. Your heart leapt to your throat. “I cannot tell you what we do not know. Take the deal as is or fail, you will not succeed without help. You have no way of getting into Zapolyarny Palace. It is impenetrable.”

You should take that as a challenge, tell them fuck off and make them watch as you succeeded. Your blood boiled at the condescending tone and it took all of your willpower to not snap at them.

This was not the time for pride. You had to abandon all vices and virtues if you were to get the evidence to condemn your stepfather, if you were to bring justice to your father… and if this person were to offer you the chance you desperately needed… then maybe it was worth whatever price they wanted you to pay in the long run.

Committing injustices in the name of justice, the thought rang through your head loud. Wrio would love the irony.

“You can get me into Zapolyarny?” you finally questioned, hiding the way your hands were shaking behind you as you sealed your fate.

They hummed in agreement, “You will be on your own once you’re in there. Take care not to anger the wrong people… or draw too much attention to yourself.”

You could do that, you told yourself. Once you got in, you needed to find a place. Weasel your way in as an attendant so you could search for the evidence you needed.

“Okay,” you finally agreed. The air suddenly felt heavy and oppressive, you thought that if you looked up, you would see the blade of a guillotine dropping on your neck. “Okay, we have a deal.”

You didn’t have to see their face to know that they were smiling, the voids staring down at you glimmered cruelly, you swore you saw red deep within the eyeholes of the mask.

“Welcome to the game, spadille.”

rbs appreciated!!

#dottore x reader #dottore smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #dottore x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you

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poppadom0912 · 5 months

Note

Hii! 🙋🏻‍♀️

I saw that you are accepting requests, can I request an imagine with Jay Halstead where he and the reader (a surgeon) don't get along very well and, as fate would have it, they both live in the same building. One night the reader discovers that there is a camera hidden in the lampshade that she got from a strange guy, so the guy threatens her and Jay protects her. 😅❤️

Sorry for my English.

Warnings: Stalking/pedo men, brief hospitals, small injuries, and swearing.

A/N: Now that my series is done, I can finally get to completing and putting out all these requests. I wrote this in school. And do not apologise for your English, it was perfect.

Life is stressful right now so I lowkey got carried away writing this because it's somehow nearly 3k words but please do enjoy this!!

You weren’t too sure when it all actually started but it was too late to reverse time now.

Growing up, there was no way to avoid the Halstead brothers because all the way throughout your childhood up until the age of eighteen, you all went to school together and outside, your mothers were near inseparable. You could never catch a break.

What made matters even more confusing was that you didn’t mind Will, on fact, the two of you were quite good friends. You tolerated Will and with both your combined loves for medicine, an inevitable friendship bloomed but even with this, you and Jay just could not get along.

The only time you ever found solace was when the two of you finally parted ways after high school. You remained in Chicago to become a doctor and later surgeon while Jay, he spontaneously decided to enrol to become an army ranger. Your shock could not be hidden.

With both brothers out your life, days were so much more simple. From time to time, you wouldn’t say it aloud but you missed Wil’s company but Jay, his absence almost made it as though he never existed in the first place. And yes, maybe that was a bit cruel but the genuine hatred you had at the mere thought of him or the sight of his face, it made you want to hurl.

And the rest was history. Even with the more recent parts being a bit more pleasant yet depressive, your pure hatred for him didn’t seem to wane.

*****

Fast forward a few years and this is how it all is: your father remained ever so absent, both mothers passed away several years ago, Pat died last year, you and Will worked together and you and Jay weren’t exactly civil.

Living in the same building, on the exact same floor and literal doors apart could only do so much damage.

Today had been a very, very long day. You had just been on shift for a double that had run over because of the complicated surgery that almost went sideways last minute. You were practically dead on your feet. You loved trauma surgery as much as the next trauma surgeon but you could go without blood and scalpels for the next few hours because sleep was calling your name like a siren song.

Upon Connor’s insistence, he drove you home because he expressed his fear of you sleeping on the train and never getting off.

Finally in your apartment building, you dragged your feet to your door, your keys almost missing the hole due to your sudden misalignment. Your mind was nearing haziness but with one final push, you were inside and collapsed on your bed.

Sleep was instant. It was expected but you also weren’t surprised when you knocked out and woke up randomly at two in the morning. You felt semi-rejuvenated but you could definitely sleep for longer.

Drowsily, you stripped out of your clothes, chucking them towards the basket before walking into the bathroom. Doing what you needed to do, you returned and searched for comfortable pyjamas that were good enough for this heat.

Standing half naked in your own bedroom in the apartment that you rented alone was a completely normal thing to do. Never in your life did you need to be paranoid or extra careful. You were in the comfort of your own home, so why was there the need to be riddled with anxiety.

Well, apparently you should’ve because as you pulled you cotton shorts on, rummaging through your draw for an oversized shirt, you caught a miniscule red dot. You were so tired you contemplated if it was a hallucination but a few minutes later, remaining in the same position, the nano dot was still there.

Diverting your attention to the suspicious dot, you threw on a random shirt but somehow, during the milliseconds your head spent under the shirt before it reappeared, the red dot disappeared.

Now you were on edge. Sleep didn’t come as easy this time.

In the morning, everything looked the same. Going around, you tried to look for anything that could’ve been tampered with but alas, everything was in tip top condition. Maybe you really were so out of that that you were delusional, it all really could’ve been a hallucination.

You had a few more hours before you needed to go back to work and considering the state of your empty fridge, grocery shopping seemed like a promising idea.

Your sweetening mood however quickly turned sour at the familiar sight of a certain detective standing down the hallway, walking in the same direction as you towards the buildings only elevator.

Sighing in disappointment, you readjusted the tote bag on your shoulders and walked ahead anyway. There was no way you were letting this man ruin your mood.

Being stuck in the elevator though, it did ruin your mood a little.

For once in your entire life though, Jay didn’t rile you up. He didn’t say anything nor did he even attempt to roll his eyes when he saw you. It was weird, he barely even acknowledged you.

And you hated to admit it, but you didn’t like it. As much as you despised the man, Jay acting as if you were a ghost was something that irked you. But obviously, you were never going to tell him that, it’d only boost his already enormous ego.

*****

“You look like a rat.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.”

You took it all back. Everything you said two days ago, you were taking it all back. Jay could rot and burn in hell and you still wouldn’t care.

Over the course of twelve hours, something must’ve changed because Jay’s renewed vigour was back and it was here to stay. You didn’t relish his silence long enough because the second he opened his mouth, your headache returned.

Next time, you were dragging Will and forcing him to escort you up to your apartment door because at least then he’d save you, he’d make this all much more bearable.

The sudden change in weather suited your mood, the rain mimicking your emotions that Jay was only half responsible for. The other half was a result of your newly achieved paranoia and anxiety that made itself known whenever you came home.

No matter where you searched or how many hours you slept, the red dot came and then disappeared again. It was annoying and it came to the point that you tried avoiding you bedroom especially as much as possible. To not be comfortable and safe in your own home wasn’t right.

Rolling your eyes, you fished your keys out of your bag and ignored whatever Jay was saying. You’d known him for so long that blocking out his voice had become second nature, it was something you did subconsciously.

You wished his apartment was before yours, that way at least you could have some peace but life worked in funny ways.

Stopping in front of your door, you were just about to unlock it when your body froze.

“What’s wrong?”

The sudden change in your mood caught him off guard, your frozen body worrying him slightly. He might’ve shared your feelings of hostility but you were his older brothers best friend, which had to count for something.

Following your line of sight, Jay’s eyes hardened at the unlocked door, a slither of light leaking out from inside as the door sat ajar. You definitely locked it this morning, there was no doubt about it.

Maybe you had the right to be paranoid. Perhaps you should’ve acted on it sooner.

Not wasting another second, Jay pushed you behind him and drew his gun. With his shoe, he gently nudged the door open and began surveying the apartment bit by bit with practised precision.

You hadn’t seen the man in action for a while now, it was weird to see him so proper and serious.

With nothing out of place and all valuable belongings safe and sound, Jay deduced that for now, things should be fine but if need be, if anything was out of the ordinary, he was the first person you called.

And for the first time ever in over thirty years, you made Jay a promise.

*****

You kept to your promise. This was a matter you weren’t going to mess around with, even if it was with Jay.

You had just come out of the shower, hair dripping wet, shorts and an oversized shirt on because despite the rain it was still humid and the summer heat wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Stepping into the dark room, you started patting your hair dry with a towel and walked towards the lamp so there was at least some lighting. A dimly lit room made you feel less paranoid.

It was upon turning the lamp on though did your anxiety peak. This new height it reached making it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden.

Without even thinking of the consequences, Jay’s number was the first thing you found on your phone, his contact name pressed within seconds of your discovery.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you forced yourself to move at the sound of the door. This fear was almost paralysing, you didn’t even know what to make of all of it.

“What happened?” Jay’s concern was immediate. All you did was call him and he came over without question. Your call alone told him enough.

You stared at him wide eyed, words lodged at the back of your throat but they wouldn’t go any further than that. Remaining wordless, you simply grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards your room and he followed obediently.

Your bedroom was now back to pitch black; you turned the lamp off straight away because the pyjamas you wore left little for imagination. That trail of thought made you want to be sick.

Jay stood beside you; your hand still wrapped around his wrist tightly while your other still held the wet hair towel that you probably should put away. He surveyed the dark room, taking it all in and trying to poke out anything out of the ordinary.

It was only when you tugged on his wrist, his head turning down to you before following your line of sight and pointed finger towards your innocent looking lamp that idly sat on your bedside table.

But it turned out to be not so innocent after all. Jay immediately saw the red dot no matter its small size, he saw it straight away and alarm bells went off.

Gently prying your fingers off his wrist, Jay holstered his gun and strode towards the lamp, tilting the lamp shade as he fiddled with something underneath. It didn’t take long before he stood up to his full height with a small black square in his palm.

This all-escalated way too fast for your liking.

*****

Jay refused to let you see anything from what he told you was a camera; he wouldn’t let you see it even for a price but he did briefly talk about what he saw in very little detail. What he told you was more than enough to make you want to bleach your body in a bath and move out of state to a place no one would know you.

Jay also wasn’t one hundred percent confident in letting you return back to your apartment alone. That’s how you found yourself wrapped in a blanket sitting cross-legged on his sofa, hiding yourself and your body from the world. Even with your shirt and shorts on, you felt liked dying at the thought of a man staring you down with intentions all but pure.

Gosh, you wanted to be sick.

Slowly sipping some water from a cup Jay silently handed you, you tried relaxing, rotating your shoulders to try release any of the tension but you failed. Fidgeting with anything was the only way you were able to not focus on the conversation Jay was having on the phone in the next room over. He was probably most likely talking to someone else from Intelligence.

The rest of the night, well more very early morning really, Jay explained the plan about how Intelligence were going to go about this but it would all happen in the morning at an actual suitable time.

With much bickering, Jay forced you into his bed as he took the sofa. It was weird that this was the most civil and even most nicest interaction the two of you ever had in either of your lifetimes. You wouldn’t tell him this unless under a life-or-death situation, but you kind’ve liked it. When Jay wasn’t being such a bastard, he was actually kind of decent.

Goodness, thinking about him was not something you would’ve ever thought of doing before yet here you were, thinking about your childhood nemesis at work.

The morning was relatively fine sprinkled with bits of awkwardness. Jay forcefully drove you to work when you insisted on going in today despite his attempts of getting you to stay home. If you tried and told Ms Goodwin the truth, she was very likely to give you the day off. Your stubbornness didn’t wane though.

You shift was normal, going from boring and mundane to fast paced just how you liked it. Nothing changed and it was relieving to be surrounded by familiarity and some sort of routine, it was a big distraction from the mess waiting for you at home. You tried keeping yourself occupied at every moment because any second you got alone with your deprecating thoughts, you were for sure going to spiral to a dark place.

And you’d been doing a great job at keeping busy till a certain detective walked in through the ED doors.

From the corner of your eyes, nothing about him looked off but when you squinted and walked towards him, you could make out a bloody gash poking out from his ripped jacket sleeve.

Now, Jay being hurt at work was nothing new. In fact, it was to be expected and you’d never been too bothered by it unlike Will was whenever his injured brother walked in so casually like it was another normal Wednesday.

However, you knew what he was doing at work today and your concerns peaked to such a height that Will had no reason to be worried anymore; you took it all from him.

“What happened?” You tried to remain somewhat calm, schooling your face as you dragged his non-injured arm towards an empty treatment room. Internally, you were glad Will was in surgery otherwise he’d be smirking and laughing like a manic at the sight he was seeing, a sight he’d never even envision in his dreams.

“We found the guy.” Jay ignored your question, begrudgingly sitting down on the bed, rolling his eyes when you wouldn’t let him get up. “We arrested him. Platt’s booking him as we speak.”

And just like that, all the weights pushing you down under the ground dissipated and you were beyond relieved.

You hands faltered as they went to grab some gauze, your eyes looking up to see whether or not he was lying but the soft smile spread across his lips, you didn’t need to question his credibility.

Without thinking, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and interlocked around his neck. Instinctively, you squeezed him a little, eyes shut as you relished in the good news. For a while, the world around you didn’t exist before it all came rushing back.

Suddenly, you abruptly pulled back, eyes wide in shock as your actions sunk in. Pressing your lips together tightly, you avoided eye contact and went back to preparing the gauze and butterfly strips, maybe even some wipes to see the real extent of the damage your stalker inflicted onto Jay.

Jay huffed in amusement and you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head. All of a sudden, you felt the need to smother his god forsaken handsome face-

What the fuck? There was no way you just thought that.

“He looks worse than me, don’t worry.” Jay started again, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke, his eyes not moving from your face. “He was being a bit of a dick so I roughed him up a little. This little nick is nothing.”

And for once, you didn’t doubt the truth behind his words. You fondly rolled your eyes before going to clean his bicep that was no longer covered by his jacket.

“My saviour.” You smiled placatingly, making brief eye contact before breaking it. “What would I have done without you.”

And for once again, there was no sarcasm dripping from your words. Behind them lay mostly the truth and maybe a hint of your typically sarcasm but without his help, who knows what would’ve happened.

“All in a days work.” Jay’s face didn’t change, his expression not moving a single bit. For a reason beyond your medical and surgical knowledge, you blushed, cheeks randomly feeling flushed.

Maybe now with childhood rivalry forgotten and shoved aside, things between the two of you could get better.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #jay halstead x reader #onechicago #jay halstead #chicago med #chicago pd #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead x imagine #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n

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euphoricfilter · 6 months

Text

Devil That I Know: The Prologue

Pairing: Demon! Jungkook x Human! F. Reader

Genre: Fluff || Smut || Angst || Demon au || Non-Idol au || Yandere au || Reincarnation || Strangers to Lovers

Summary: It's a shame how refuge will become your downfall.

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags/ warnings: mentioned death/ murder, sacrifice, sexy demon jungkook who has 4 arms, jimin is just mean (for now), the start of the yandere and just taehyung being a cutie

Notes: she’s back! and better than ever, new and improved, my baby <3 even if you’ve read the old version of dtik, i recommend reading again!! there has been a few added elements + way better writing!

devil that i know masterlist || my other stuff

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[a little death]

[1859]

Death seemed to have found solace in your shadow. Slithering around your ankles and chewing up any unfortunate living being you came across; acting as a parasite, touch of your fingers sticky poison. The rawest form of hatred radiating off your skin into the world, a curse.

A simple wish for the price of a life, and maybe this was the universe’s sick joke, that you’ll live to suffer while the rest of the world carries the burden of a small selfish wish.

Maybe death has found home in your sorrows, wretched sadness, anguish, ugly ugly emotions cradling you like a mother would her child. Truly pitiful comfort where anger is useless.

It must have been almost a year ago your misfortune had truly started, foolishly leaving a life you never wanted. Though you suppose you never really had a choice, this day was inevitable when you were the odd one out, a leech, a pitiful child– not that that mattered at all to the man who was the starting point of your resentment.

A wish for a life that was solely your own. A wish you never thought had been too big of an ask, leaving fragile hope in the hands of fate, praying that the world would take pity on your wilted soul.

Now, freedom was a day’s journey away. Coastline so close yet so far away, a new life, one you’d been dreaming of since young, slipping through your fingers like dry sand– every step forward, the sea pulling away until you’re chasing after sodden dreams, leaving you stranded at the shore.

Life looked like a damp cell in a run-down village, barely holding on; dependent on trade, though only one other village thrives in this area, hours away– over the mountain. Trips far and few with the horses they have, produce barely worth a piece of gold.

The true situation of the village should have become apparent at their panic of unexpected visitors. Accusations spat your way, your own life flashing before your eyes, only for your friend to bear the brunt of their temper. No one of them had thought to hear you out, their words like venom, because in their eyes you’d come to spy on their village, a lie that would ruin you.

You weren’t like them; and so you’d become an easy target.

Secrets locked behind closed doors, lies fed to those clueless of what really happened when the sun falls over the horizon and the world is shrouded in darkness.

Corruption was everywhere, the world so unfair, where fickle human emotions consume those greedy enough to sell their souls for power, for something more, anything to get out of their awful little lives.

If you told a lie long enough, if you yourself believed in it, then surely it must be true.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d never expected your first encounter with death, you suppose no one really does. And in your months of solitude, locked up against your will, you’ve learnt you can’t change the past. No matter how many tears wet the dry ground, how much you scream, how much you pray to anyone listening, the past will forever be how it is and you can’t change that.

Regret is an awful emotion, a million ‘what ifs’ consuming your mind. What if you and your friend had chosen the village over the mountain? What if you had never decided to leave? What if you had traveled alone?

If things had been different, minute details that could have changed the whole course of your life, then maybe your friend would still be alive. Maybe you’d have found the coast, hair windswept as you stand on the deck of the boat, life that of a bird; free.

You could never see much out of the small window of your cell, rare that the sun would dare poke its head in to say hello, never there to kiss your cheeks red, or warm frozen toes.

The nights had started to get colder, the few seconds you got to see the outside world through the open door is enough for you to know the leaves had begun falling off the trees. Dusty path blanketed with reds and oranges, footsteps harder to hear on the few days you’re fed– never more than what’s left over from the village men.

The second time death had chosen to lurk was when a crisis had become of the village. Their crops rotting, black mold greedy in the way it had chewed through their livestock. Animals sent from the gods, lay dead on the ground, useless when their harvest season was right around the corner.

“An evil spirit has cursed the lands”

You’d wondered how you’d escaped the clutches of death a second time. But your purpose had become apparent when you’d heard whispers of the demon that lived in the mountains. A ruler of this very land.

Rumors carried by the wind had told you that he’d become restless, that the townspeople needed a sacrifice to sate his growing rage. They couldn’t go a season without crops, and none of the men dared push their wives forward as the gift.

And so you, had been the sacrifice. The true purpose of them keeping you locked up and alive, was to act as their gift for the one that lived in the mountains.

Human fear is often the scariest, compassion absolutely destroyed, empathy non-existent.

That’s why you don’t find yourself begging when you’re woken up one morning, cold water a shock to the system. Adrenaline useless as it pumps through your veins. It doesn’t take long for you to grasp the reason one of the village boys had come to see you so early, the sun barely having woken herself.

You cough, wiping your wet face with the backs of your hand. Eyebrows creased into a frown as your eyes flit over to the entrance of your cell.

“Get up”

He mustn't be much older than you, pretty lips turned down into a prominent frown that you have to will yourself not to scoff at. Because really if anyone should frown as though the world were against them, it should be you.

You don’t move, a dangerous game you’d been playing since you’d first arrived in the village. Because if you acted as though you didn’t understand them, language not your own, then you’d keep a little bit of your freedom. Ignorance covered as misunderstandings; actions out of spite, simply accidents.

The boy tuts, door to the cell creaking, almost yanked off it hinges as he strides towards you. He’s rough as he grabs onto your arms, pulling you up from the sorry excuse of a bed. You pull your arms from his grip, skin prickly with pure hatred.

“Change into these” he shoves a pile of clothes into your arms, tattered underwear falling to the floor.

If you had any shame, maybe you’d be a little embarrassed as he turns around, arms crossed over his chest. Though it seemed that any lick of shame that dared plague your mind, was consumed by anger as you yank your clothes off—Wringing your wet hair out, rolling the bottoms of the pants up.

You flinch at the sound of another voice, “Jimin, are you almost done?”

The village boy turns around, eyes raking over your body, “Almost” he calls back.

You eye the open door as Jimin steps out of your cell, “Don’t even think about it”

It’s uncomfortable how tight he ties the ropes, hands bound behind your back where one mean tug from Jimin could send you tumbling face first into the floor.

And it’s infinitely more uncomfortable how the whole village seems to gather, the chief parading you down the split path of people like a prize as Jimin watches your back.

A gift sent from the heavens to save their village, to save their people. Ironic when months ago everyone had been cursing your existence, asking why they should keep you locked up, why you hadn’t died beside your friend.

It takes almost a day to hike up the mountain on foot, they may have thought of you as their sacrificial savior, that didn’t mean they were willing to waste their resources on you.

Sweat tickles the back of your neck, hair clinging to your skin uncomfortably. You’re tired. Moments away from your legs giving way, willing to let the sun melt your skin and bones until you become one with the earth. Summer sun still clinging onto the sky before the seasons truly change.

The world takes pity on you as you stumble over your own feet, almost headbutting Jimin’s back as he stops. Your heart is in your throat as reality sets in, the rumors of a demon true. It didn’t look like anyone lived here; picket fence damp, old in a way that bugs had chewed through the wood.

Your eyes settle on the sign that hangs from a tree branch– “Jeon”.

Jimin grabs the thick rope of the bell, muscles in his arms flexing as he announces your arrival.

The shred of hope that you held in your heart shatters when you hear the crunch of footsteps. Silhouette of a man wandering through the archway of trees behind the fence.

You think he looks more like an angel than a demon, hair a fluffy mess, almost cute in the way he almost trips over his sandals. He catches himself before he can fall, stopping in front of Jimin on the other side of the gate.

He places a hand over his heart, taking his time in catching his breath– and you can see Jimin’s patience wearing thin, heel of his boot tapping against the grass. Face etched into a permanent scowl that you can only assume is your doing.

You wet your lips at the sound of the boy’s voice, deeper than you’d expected, “Hello, how may I help you?”

Your eyes fixate on the mole sat at the tip of his nose.

“Are you the demon that resides here?” Jimin tugs you forward, heavy hand falling on the back of your neck.

“Oh–” the man’s eyes widen, running a hand through his hair, “No, he’s inside”

You peek over his shoulder, path veiled by trees, dark abyss waiting beyond the rotted gate. A world that looked so far from your own, a little secret hidden between the trees.

Jimin hums, “Here” he pats your back, “A delivery from the village”

You dig your heels further into the ground as Jimin’s fingertips trail over your back, silent warning to do whatever you’re told. Maybe a cruel little goodbye, because the both of you knew that you might not ever make it out of there alive.

He waves at you as he starts his descent down the mountain, sadistic little smile of his face.

Now would be a good time to run, though you wouldn’t know where to go. You suppose anything would be better than this. Maybe if you begged nicely the demon would kill you painlessly; maybe listening to your cries of mercy. Granting you an easy death so you could finally rest.

The demon’s friend slips through the fence, “Do you understand me? Are you okay?”

You nod. So many words hanging on the tip of your tongue, though you don’t seem to know what to say first.

“I’m Taehyung” he tells you, smile fragile as he moves to take a look at your bound wrists. “May I?” he asks, and you turn to give him better access to your back.

“What’s your name?”

You swallow, wetting your dry throat, “Y/n”

“Jungkook is really nice, I’m sure he’ll let you stay for a while”

It’s weird how even as the ropes make a dull thump against the damp ground, you don’t feel any more free than you had when you’d been bound.

Opening the gate, Taehyung motions for you to step inside, letting you follow him down the path and into the open area. Your eyes wander over the courtyard, freshly fallen leaves the color of a sunset scattered across the grass. Stood through the archway of trees stands the heart of the house.

Without knocking, Taehyung pulls the door open. Intricately crafted table sat in the middle of the room.

He sits at the table like royalty, posture that of a king– clothes that of a nobleman. He looked younger than Taehyung, book held by one hand ever so elegantly, really he could be mistaken for a royal if it weren’t for the inky black snake that peeks out of the sleeve of his shirt.

You try not to linger on his extra pair of arms. Breath catching in your throat when they fold over his stomach. Entirely unhuman, something you’d never seen before.

His eyes flicker over your face, turning to Taehyung with his eyebrow raised. You flinch as he shuts his book, full attention now on you and his friend.

“Who’s this?”

You feel the embarrassment lick up your spine as he takes in the way you’re dressed, warm blush surely flushing your cheeks pink. Both of your lives so dramatically different.

Taehyung clears his throat when you don’t say anything, “This is Y/n”

“Does she understand us?” Jungkook asks, curious eyes meeting your own. Taehyung turns to you, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

“I do” and Jungkook hums, a little taken aback with how formal you’d come off.

“Why are you here?” there’s no malice in his voice, simple curiosity. Something you hadn’t been expecting. And you wish he had just shouted, unexpected understanding strange when you had prepared for the worst.

Taehyung grabs a pillow from under the table, fingertips barely grazing your back as he helps you sit opposite Jungkook.

“I’ll make us some tea” Taehyung smiles. A whisper for him to stay stuck on the tip of your tongue as he wanders further into the back room leaving you alone with Jungkook.

Your eyes stay trained in your lap, picking at your nails, fiddling with the hem of your shirt; really anything to keep you from having to look into Jungkook’s eyes.

“I asked a question” he reminds you, “why are you here?”

“I’m a sacrifice. A gift from the people in the village of the east”

“A gift?” he urges, utterly enraptured by the mind of humans.

“Their land had been cursed, or so they say” you meet his eyes, “this is an offering for you to save the land, to sate your anger. That’s all I know, no one ever spoke much around the cell they kept me in”

“Cell?” his eyebrows raise, curious.

You hum, “It is nothing but rumors, but they say the king wanted people like myself dead, the chief had told his people I’d come to spy on them. That my life would be of use, so they let me live”

“Is that so?” Jungkook falls back, holding himself up by his arms, “Taehyung hadn’t told me such rumors were going around”

You open your mouth, a question that’s been playing on your mind since a child put to an abrupt stop when Taehyung wanders back into the room. Teacup and delicate little porcelain plates balanced on a wooden tray.

“Thank you” your voice is barely above a whisper as your fingers delicatly take hold of the cup.

“So–” Taehyung starts, taking a seat beside you, “are you staying with us?”

Your hand flies to your mouth, a lame attempt in covering a cough as your eyes meet Jungkook’s.

“Please? I could always use the extra help” Taehyung continues, arm slung over your shoulder, “What do you think?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, head tilting in question. It’s strange how far you can get lost in someone’s eyes, how for some it’s ever so easy to nitpick seemingly insignificant changes in expression. Maybe it had been a self-defense mechanism, a means to survive, but you’d always felt you’d been good at knowing how people felt, knowing where to build a wall, draw a line, anything.

Jungkook was a strange being, how what lies beneath his gaze is unattable no matter how long you search.

Jungkook’s eyes gave no indication as to how he felt about you. Expression eerily neutral that even if you were to ask him how he felt, his tone would be of no help. Someone so in control of their body and mind, someone above that of natural human nature; and you suppose thats only fair considering he weren’t a mortal like you or Taehyung.

“You guys do whatever you want” Jungkook picks up his book, touch gentle as he flips back to the page he’d left.

You turn to Taehyung, “If it’s okay, then I don’t mind staying” because living a life secluded from the world, protected by the rotting gate at the end of the path, was a safer way to live than travelling alone with no place to call home.

And as long as Jungkook held no resentment towards you, letting you live a life of peace, even if only for a fleeting moment—then maybe you’d hold onto that last selfish little sliver of hope.

Taehyung takes ahold of your hands, the prettiest smile gracing his face, “You must be exhausted. How about a bath? You’ll have to wear some of my clothes until I can make you some–”

“Tae” Jungkook laughs, “Slow down, you’ll overwhelm her”

Taehyung’s fingers intertwine with your own, tugging you to stand.

You turn back to Jungkook before Taehyung can drag you out of the room, “Thank you” you call out to him.

He waves you off, thumb running over his bottom lip, “It’s nothing” and really it wasn't, he already housed one human, what was one more? Not when like Taehyung, you’d been betrayed by your own kind.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Have you heard of any rumors circulating the village?” Jungkook asks his friend, Taehyung running a hand through his hair. Having left you to wash up and change before he would show you your new bedroom.

“Rumours?” Taehyung’s head tilts a little.

Jungkook hums, “About the king”

“None” he shakes his head, “Only whispers about bandits raiding the outskirts of the capital”

“Nothing about any spies?”

Taehyung’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, back straightening slightly as he gazes down at Jungkook. “Is this about Y/n?”

Jungkook sighs, “Something’s happening in the east, don’t go there from now on”

Taehyung nods, “I’ll keep an eye on her, just in case”

“I doubt there’s a need. The two of you are quite similar” Jungkook hums, “Just make sure she’s comfortable, that’s all I ask”

“And you?”

Jungkook pushes himself to stand, “Nothing much will change around here”

Taehyung’s role in Jungkook’s life hadn’t been a coincidence. And as much as it felt like Jungkook was the one helping Taehyung, demons were a little more selfish than that. Sure, Jungkook gave Tae a second chance at life, but that was only because he wanted something from him. It all worked out in the end, Jungkook made his first friend and Taehyung lived comfortable.

You, however, Jungkook hadn’t seeked you out. You were handed to him by the graces of hell, destiny walking you up this mountain. Adorably strong-willed, though perhaps too trusting of the very being that could bring you to your downfall.

Jungkook was anything but a saviour, everything he ever did was only to with his own wellbeing in mind. But you, you were the one thing that he hadn’t planned. An anomaly thrusted in his face, how could he turn away his gift from the world?

Your desire for freedom was endearing, the human will to live something Jungkook found utterly intriguing when all the world seemed to do was fuck you over. Naïve hope disguised by a hard exterior, pitiful in the way the world had rejected your mere existence. Something Jungkook was more willing to use, arms curling around your fragile existence.

Because as much as you thought of him as your refuge, he knew that he would become your downfall.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #bts demon au #bts non idol au #bts

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devieuls · 10 months

Text

ˋ Let me Love you༄ ✴

Neteyam Sully x Na'vi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Na'vi Reader.

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; slut shaming; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoorsex; jealousy BDSM.

ANGST: mention of suicide, toxic relationship, words inherent in death, sexual assault, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. and FLUFF. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Neteyam 22 y.o / You 19 y.o.

Synopsis: In the darkest point of your life, swallowed by the abyss, you decide to put an end to your sufferings, seeking relief in the extreme act. Your life was an intricate dance between life and death, and when life decided to take leave and leave death alone in you, you got lost. And as if he had been sent by Eywa himself, a mysterious Na'vi, saves you from hitting bottom, sacrificing himself so you don’t give up. Becoming the light that shone in your darkness. He is the sun that faces your night, and you are the Moon, eternally distant from him.

He grabbed your hand and dragged you away, taking you to his village, a place of healing and hope where he will try to make you love life again, showing you the light you had long lost. Starting a journey of healing, to fight against your demons that tormented you relentlessly, to finally find happiness where you would never have bothered to find it.

Two fates crossed under the tacit protection of the Great Mother, to show that even two opposites can create something perfectly chaotic.

And what happens when night and day dance together, to the rhythm of the stars and waves of balance, eternal opposites that are inevitably attracted?

This is the story of how death falls in love with life; how the sun one day decided to save the moon and how darkness is not so dark if light can penetrate. But also a story of suffering and torment, where not everything is roses and flowers.

CHAPTER WARNING: Mention suicide and attempted suicide.

Lenght : 4k

NA'VI WORDS: Yawne: Beloved; Tanhì: Bioluminescent freckles; Tspangoe: I invented this, it means "Suicidal". It comes from "Tspang": Kill and "Oe": I/Me. I couldn��t find a word that came close, so I made it up.

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Chapter I: The Fall

In the heart of the dense forest, wrapped in a blanket of skeletal trees seemed to dangle for you as silent witnesses of a long time ago. The icy wind hissed among the thick branches, bringing with it a suffocated lament, as if nature itself was crying an irreparable loss. It was a place of tormented beauty, a refuge for your restless soul, where nature itself seemed to express its pain in silence. In the melancholy yet fascinating atmosphere, the waterfall stood as a symbol of battered hope, offering a fleeting comfort to spirits like you in search of consolation. It was in this desolation of yours that the waterfall was heard. Not a joyful or luxuriant sound, but a sore groan hovering in the air. The incessant flow of water was a constant sound that pervaded the atmosphere, offering a grim melody among its tumultuous waves, as if it carried with it the weight of your hidden pains. Its waters rushed from the cliff with an unstoppable force, forming a veil of water that dispersed in a light fog. The reflections of the suns sprinkled silvery sparks in the air, creating an ephemeral rainbow between the shimmering silver drops.

As the dying rays of the suns seeped through the fronds of the trees, tinging the landscape with a purple light, you sat on the edge of the majestic waterfall, your feet dangling above the cliff. An aura of sadness was reflected in your gaze, an invisible weight that seemed to have borne too much for your young age.

The rustle of the branches danced among the trees, accompanied by an orchestra of voices hidden among the trees. The howls of the waking nocturnal animals, the chirping of the birds mingling with the croaking of the crows and screeching of the Ikrans who dared peer into the oncoming darkness. The rustle of the leaves, moved by an invisible wind, creates a constant background that amplifies the mysterious aura. The scents of the forest mixed in the air, with the smell of moss, damp earth and wildless flowers.

You sat in silence, with your eyes fixed between the abyss below and the eclipse that colored your face with warm shades, with your heart broken and your soul in pieces. The weight of pain and despair was felt in every fiber of your being, as the pounding sound of water flowing downwards amplified the preparatory atmosphere that had been created around you by you. You were able to welcome the beauty of the majestic trees that stood on the horizon, small flowers dancing free in the wind that seemed to evoke happy and serene memories, creating a poignant contrast with your suffering.

You squinted as you took a deep breath. Hands flickering as you began to undress each piece of jewelry that represented your status and your belonging, removing piece by piece, gently laying them on the ground. You caressed them as you remember they surfaced in your mind with pain, remembering your story and the events you had experienced to get every single cherished jewel that now lay on the ground. You separated with pain, not wanting to dirty the precious memories and the sacredness of each bead with your gesture. It was as if I wanted to get rid of everything that made you, "you", looking for a way to atone for the pain.

While contemplating the last lights of the day, you quietly hum your songcord, creating a sad lament, before separating it forever, tying it to a thread of faded era that would be the final 'bead'.

"Oh Great Mother, forgive me… but my battle is over… I can’t stand this anymore" praying that the Great Mother would forgive you and welcome you into her warm arms.

Loneliness. You felt alone in that forest, as the cold, wet wind collided with your warm skin, as if Eywa was saying to you, "You are heard, child. Step back forward, because your life is not complete". When you felt pretty confident about the blessing that the Great Mother was telling you, a rustle behind you made your ears stand up but you didn’t turn, anyone or whatever it was you didn’t care, because it could never hurt you more than you were about to.Neteyam walked through the forest as he returned to his village with some venison he had just finished hunting, only to be distracted by a lament from where he knew the waterfall was. The sound of flowing water guides him in the right direction and suddenly he sees your lonely figure on the edge of the precipice. A sense of anguish pervaded him when he realized your tragic intentions, noting the jewels placed on the ground.

He carefully removed the bow and arrows from his back, laying them on the ground with the venison and then slowly approaching, but with determination to do everything possible to save you. He sat next to you, looking at the horizon, respecting the personal space you needed but conveying a sense of closeness. Your eyes met his figure, not understanding why a stranger would sit beside you at a time like this. He opened his mouth suddenly, taking a long breath.

"See those two birds right there" The boy’s words were soft and reassuring, trying to break the wall you were building to separate yourself from the world before performing the act we express. "hmhm" you mumbled in response, watching the birds dancing one last time in the purple sky. "Eywa takes care of them every day… If the Great Mother takes care of them, imagine how she takes care of us who are more fragile" you lowered your gaze to the river below, reflecting the words that the mysterious Na'vi was giving you. "The Great Mother knows your needs, look for her now…" he whispered, reassuring you as his words mingled with the melody of the falling water, turning his face towards yours.

"Maybe it’s because it’s what I want." You hissed and then looked him in the eye. Your face was tired, just like your eyes, sad, dull and devoid of spirit, bringing with them a deep sense of total abandonment. The eyes of someone who has gone through immeasurable pain and who has lost all hope of finding a way out of suffering. The irises, once full of life and lively, are now devoid of any spark of emotion. They are an abyss in which all joy and happiness is drowned. There is no more light shining through them, only a dark and impenetrable desolation. Heavy, drooping eyelids tell the story of a tired, exhausted soul. They seemed ready to give in under the unbearable weight. There is no life, there is no light, only deep apathy. One can see the total lack of interest in everything around them, as if I had become a stranger to the world.

Your gaze aroused a sense of compassion in Neteyam. It almost seemed like a call to extend his hand to offer you support, because behind that desolation, there was still a soul struggling feebly to keep going.

"It’s not what you want, it’s what you think you want. I don’t know you, but I know you mean something to someone, and I know that someone would suffer for it. Do it for them… live for them, please." His eyes were light, hope, life. His kind and comforting words that for a second you thought he was even the Great Mother herself. Slowly, patiently and gently, Neteyam tried to open a breach in the armor you were wearing, hoping to make you desist.

"Why live for someone if I don’t even want to live for myself? Just…Go away." You answered with bitterness while you carried again the look under you, contemplating the abyss and the peace that you would have tried. You just didn’t want to feel this way anymore, to be free. "I have no one. I mean nothing to anyone. Whether I disappear or not no one will cry for me. You don’t know who I am, so I won’t be a burden to you… Please-" your voice broke at that moment, as two tears cut your face. "Just let me do this…"

Neteyam looked at you, silently swallowing, realizing your pain, doing it as he watched you fall apart in front of him. He had never seen a Na'vi attempt suicide, and the lost look in your eyes frightened him. <; Nobody?… She has no one > this was what rang in his mind as he searched for the right words.

"You have Eywa… The Great Mother loves all her children and I know she doesn’t want to take you right now… You are not alone and she will not allow you to be alone, if so." He reached out his hand towards you. " Take my hand, please" his voice died in his throat, his hopeful gaze waiting for you to change your mind.

Your vulnerability was exposed, for the defenses you built were shaken by his words. Maybe for the first time in a long time, you felt comforted, even for a moment. Your heart was lighter in a moment of suspension. You still felt a thin veil of fear to do that act, but relief and warmth, anger to be alone. You decided to leave the precipice, not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally, while a faint flame of hope began to burn in you. Too bad it wasn’t the right flame.

You looked at his outstretched hand, making your amber eyes so different for the last time. Its full of life and yours turned off, the sun and the moon looking at each other, life and death meeting. You pulled up with your nose as one last tear tore through your face for the last time. One last breath and swallowed. "I can’t… I can’t be saved" The bitterness in your voice destabilized Neteyam, only to leave him wide-eyed when you dropped to the side, following the waterfall water.

"No!" He screamed as his arms instinctively extended towards you, desperately trying to grab your freefalling body, but all he could touch was the void. The air passed through his fingers and hands, as if it were an insurmountable force that prevented him from reaching you.

At that moment, he felt a feeling of helplessness and frustration that crept into his soul, leaving a sense of guilt and remorse. Every muscle in his body screams for failing to save your life. As you disappeared from his sight, Neteyam was overwhelmed by an emotional storm. Everything around him seemed to slow down. The sounds faded and the reality turned away, as if he were in a nightmare from which he could not wake up. His body trembles in front of the immensity of the situation. Managing to react to a delayed burst.

You had found peace by falling, a harmony that you had not felt for a long time, as if you had discovered the secret to facing that darkness that had reached its climax in you. The scars of the battle opened slightly, turning into signs of courage. The cold air and drops of water gently caressed your exhausted body, bringing with it the pungent smell of freedom. Your eyes, which had wept far too many tears, were now closed and full of serenity, knowing that you would escape from that hell.

Gravity pulled you down with the same unstoppable force with which water fell from the waterfall. But there was no fear in your heart, only the realization that the fall was an inevitable conclusion of everything you had experienced, the point that would make you start over. You felt at peace, finally free to leave everything behind you tormented. In the fall, your face relaxed and a smile crossed your face. Not a smile of unbridled joy, but rather a kind of resignation and contentment. It was as if you knew that even in the darkness of the fall, your spirit could finally shine. The water wrapped you in a warm embrace, giving you that sense of comfort before the impact, washing away your melancholy, leaving you free from the weight, happy.

Neteyam didn’t hesitate an extra second to follow you, taking the right precautions before the launch so that he wouldn’t faint from impact, jumping as he quickly spotted where your body might end up once in the water.

Your unarmed body descended below the surface without too much hesitation, blocking you down because of the strong currents. You were unconscious right after the impact, but in your mind you were just waiting to be taken away by the Great Mother’s hand, leaving your body aching.

Neteyam immediately after the impact with the water sought you with panic in the eyes, swimming with open eyes to look for your body, hoping to find you in time before the current took you away and marked your end. After a few minutes he found you and had to fight against the violent currents and your body heavier because of the water to lift you and carry you up, while the seconds passed and his lungs screamed to breathe, trying to stay lucid for you. He managed to drag you out of the water with difficulty, gently laying you on the shore, while he watered the air he needed, begging the Great Mother not to take you, while he placed you back on the grass, by slightly tilting your head back and lifting your chin to open the airways. His hands began to tremble when he placed them in the center of your chest, just above the breastbone, comprehending the chest with the rhythm that his father had taught him to do. He alternated compressions with mouth-to-mouth ventilation. "Oh Great Mother, no... please… please, Great Mother" he whispered as he proceeded with the cpr, pulling a breath of relief when you started spitting water spasmodically, grateful that at least your body was reacting to stay alive.

"Stay with me, please. Stay with me, stay with me…" he said desperately as he called his Ikran. When the banshee arrived, he took the shawl that he used when riding and it was cold, covering your shaky and wet body, not thinking that he too would get cold because of the speed with which he would ride to take you to his village as soon as possible. He held you in his arms, making you lay your face on his chest as he held you from his waist with one arm, leaving promptly. Your tanhì were barely visible, and this made him worry to say the least, he did not know you but he wanted to save you, he had to do it. He felt he had to save your life, give you a second chance to try to be happy and at peace, for fighting your demons.

When he arrived at the village, he rushed into the marui of Tsahìk, easily making his way among the na'vi of the clan. When he found his grandmother, he looked at her pleadingly and panicked, leaving you lying on the carpet that Tsahìk used as a bed for patients.

"What happened to this girl?" she asked as she inspected your body, trying to figure out where to start treating you. Neteyam looked at her swallowing as he breathed fast and passed his hands between the braids.

"She… she fell. She drank a lot of water, ther because… s-she. she fainted, she fell from the waterfall…and I-" He tried to explain as he went off the deep end and Mo'at nodded, then invited him out while she undressed you for more room to work.

Neteyam shivered because of the still wet body and the wind hitting his blue skin, while he was still in shock about what he had seen, not expecting you to really jump. He began to walk nervously out of the healing hut, worried about you and your health, while his nerves drove him around in despair.

After about an hour Mo'at came out of the marui, wrapping his nephew in a warm blanket, worried that he too would get sick.

"She’s gonna be okay, right? She’s okay? She-" asked anxiously as his palms wrapped around his grandmother’s elbows, praying that you were well and that she had managed to save you. Mo'at’s eyes lowered slightly and then sighed, realizing Neteyam’s concern, though not understanding why he was so worried about a stranger.

"She… will survive" she replied, not giving a clear answer, though that 'will survive' gave Neteyam enormous relief, thanking Eywa for allowing him to save you. "but she can’t wake up yet. She’s lost a lot of blood inside of her, and she hit her head, pressure knocked her unconscious on impact. She’s lucky she didn’t break bones or ruin her organs…" She continued and then noticed a slight tension in Neteyam, always remaining happy that you were well despite that problem.

"You said she’ll be fine, so she’ll be fine" he said, convincing himself more than his grandmother, who looked at him sighing.

"I feel that her spirit does not want to stay here… she is… tspangoe?" Mo'at’s voice became darker as she asked, waiting for the reply of her nephew who soon arrived when he let her go and looked away.

"She is a Na'vi. Like you and me. Nothing else" He said seriously, growling slightly as he avoided answering the question, as if he was annoyed that his grandmother had just labeled you that way. He squeezed into the blanket and left, leaving his grandmother alone after thanking her for helping you.

The days began to flow while you gave no sign of waking up. Neteyam would stay in the tent for hours, visiting you at least twice a day, making sure you were properly washed and fed, feeding you himself when Mo'at gave it to him. He allowed himself several times to observe your face, noticing how your tanhì were almost extinguished and your feeble breaths, your body still had small wounds and bruises caused by the water and the rough stones you had met underwater. He hoped to see your eyes, even though he knew you would curse the fact that he saved you, but he knew that a tiny little part of you, well hidden, wished to be saved.

"A girl so young that she tries to take her own life… that’s a shame," Mo'at said as she entered her marui, making room behind his nephew to take some herbs to grind and use on your body. Neteyam sighed heavily and then looked at his grandmother.

"Grandmother, I beg you, stop it. You don’t even know her reasons." he said, looking at what she was grinding in the bowl made of smooth rock.

In the Na'vi culture, suicide was considered one of the greatest sins and completely harmful to one’s spiritual journey, as for them life is a precious gift of Eywa, and only she had the right to determine when to end. The Great Mother was a benevolent deity, who loved her children unconditionally, longing for their good and loving them so much that they reincarnated their pure soul cyclically. Take your own life was considered an insult to this blessing, ruining the purity of your soul, risking not being able to return to a new life. So your gesture led you to be looked down on by the spiritual leader of the Omatikaya clan, not understanding why a Na'vi should take her own life and disrespect life in this way.

"The tspangoe" began her, only to be interrupted by Neteyam "Don’t call her like that." She cleared her voice and then started talking again. "she cannot have 'reasons' to do such a thing. The Great Mother has given us life, who are we to throw it away like garbage?" her tone was bittersweet while she was grinding herbs with some natural liquids, not looking at her nephew.

"Nine eclipses have passed by now, and she sleeps. If she doesn’t want to wake up, she can just let go. She’s tried that before, hasn’t she? So why not just leave? In this way, perhaps, my partner will return to give attention to me and not to an Tspangoe" The sour voice of a woman made her way as she made her entrance, watching Neteyam and Mo'at.

"Tsu'län, please don’t start." Neteyam replied harshly as he sighed, looking at the Tsakarem of the clan.

"Nine eclipses, ma yawne. Nine eclipses that spend more time with this Tspangoe and not with your future mate. It is not normal, it is not healthy for our relationship or for the image we will give to the clan." She hissed, only to make Neteyam growl and look into her eyes with annoyance.

"Ma Tsu'län, you should be happy that your partner is a man who worries, as much as I don’t even like him being with her." Mo'at spoke, then sighed, feeling the tension between her nephew and his promise.

"Not an eclipse more. Any woman would be angry about this, especially if her partner is the future Olo'eyktan and prefers to be with a Tspangoe. It’s humiliating." Shee snorted at him, being ignored by Neteyam who was too respectful of the opposite sex to respond to her as he wished.

He looked at your face, noticing how your Tanhì were slowly coming to life, smiling spontaneously as Tsu'län’s voice went deaf before disappearing.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes II:

Theoretically I should have started "Starboy" series because it’s more summer and """soft""", but I’ve been thinking for days about scenarios for this series and so I decided to bring this first.

I know that this is quite a demanding series but I would like to talk about these delicate but necessary yhemes. I don’t know how many chapters it will have, but I know it’s potentially going to be my trojan horse, because I’m inspired.

I swear it won’t just be Angst, there will also be a good part of Smut and Fluff, and I will forward them in a way that in my mind is spectacular. I hope you enjoyed reading <3

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

TAG LIST : @riatesullironalite @shadowmoonlight0604

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luxlightly · 1 year

Text

Thoughts on Astarion and why he's the most compelling character in BG3 to me right now

I've been posting a lot about this boy recently, mostly just about finding him hilarious and adorable but I do genuinely love his character and find him extremely interesting.

The defining thing about his story, especially when comparing it to Wyll or Gale, is just how LONG he has been suffering. Wyll has essentially just realized how tricked he's been and is fuming, Gale is still in denial that he's done anything wrong except for failing at his goal to return the trapped magic. Astarion has been a puppet for an evil vampire lord who tortured him and forced him to lure probably hundreds of people to their deaths for TWO HUNDRED YEARS.

He's past the initial anger. Past the denial. He's gone through every kind of grief a dozen times over until he came around to a terrible, cold acceptance. And to having to see the "funny side" of it. The cruel, twisted humor in everything. For instance, he seems, in some way, truly sorry for Mayrina and her husband's fate, but also finds it funny. He mentions he wishes Mayrina could at least see the "funny side of it". It seems that crucial to his ability to accept the things he's done and have been done to him.

I saw a comment earlier that said they felt Astarion is just "needlessly evil" but honestly I see very clear cut motivations in all of his approval choices. Fear for his life. Fear of being controlled. And finding joy, however twisted, in the horrible things that have befallen him and others.

I honestly think one of the best scenes in exploring his character is the goblin party after siding with the goblins in the grove battle, which is likely a much more rare scene since the game pushes you pretty hard towards helping the teiflings. If you side with the teiflings, he spends the party being boisterous and whiny. He complains loudly about the lack of reward, but seems to be mostly just blowing smoke, enjoying complaining. He'll joke around with you and, while making a fuss about it, does seem to enjoying himself to some extent, even if it's just enjoying the fuss he's making. And he raises a good point. If you tell him "just think of the lives we saved" he'll raise the question: did you really "save" anyone? You killed as many goblins in the camp as there were teiflings in the grove. Goblins who were manipulated and controlled by the cult of the Absolute. At the end of the day, you decided that some lives were worth the loss of others. Whether or not you made the "right" decision is up to your interpretation. It gives a glimpse into the way he's come to rationalize the things he's had to do under Cazador's command.

At the goblin party, he's much more subdued. I saw a video saying he was clearly "having a great time" but I don't see it that way at all. His jokes are dry and dark. His words soft. The way we only really see him in scenes where he feels vulnerable, emotionally. His usual flamboyant nature dulled. If you express regret over what you did, he tells you "You did what you had to. Don't be ashamed you did it well." You can really tell how that's a motto he's had to cling to himself. He's not wracked with guilt the way the others like Gale and Shadowheart are, but you can see exactly why. Not because he wanted this, but because he's completely internalized the idea that one can't get what they want. They can only take it. And accept everything else as inevitable. Right and wrong stopped meaning anything to him a long long time ago. There's just life. Survival. And whatever it takes to keep on going.

Everything Astarion does is, in some way, about protecting himself. His blades protect his body. His harsh words and lies protect his secrets. His humor protects his mind. Which is why each of his important character cutscenes have been about having to lower his guard. To trust you with all three of those things.

I'm very interested in seeing what will happen when he truly is faced with the decision to protect himself or to protect those he cares about. I think that will be the defining moment for him and will vary wildly depending on if you've managed to get him to lower his defenses around you and learn to trust.

#Astarion #Baldur's Gate #Baldur's Gate 3 #Astarion Baldur's Gate #reposting because there was some error with tagging it before

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primojade · 2 years

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𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 : 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘.

"the best use of life is love. The best expression of love is time. The best time to love is now." - Rick Warren

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒' 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | As a veteran AR60 player of Genshin Impact, you pride yourself as someone who knows the ins and outs of Teyvat, even studiously completing Spiral Abyss every reset, and having 100% exploration to some, if not all, of the released regions so far. Everything is fun and enjoyable, especially since Sumeru just recently debuted so you still have a lot to do!

All that ends though, when a mysterious passerby pushes you off the building of your university while playing Genshin. But instead of meeting your inevitable end, you find yourself waking up in the very world you were addicted to!

It's supposed to be a fun dream, right? Something you could laugh at when you wake up? Right?! So, why is that you were back in AR1 with nothing but a dull blade in your inventory?!

…well, at least you still have those 700+ sunsettias and mints, Timmie's fowls…and surprisingly similar game mechanics you used to merely see on the screen before. But what should you do now? Flirt with the Genshin men??? Good lords...

"Welcome to Genshin Impact, Dreamer. Here, we can show you a happier ever after you've never had before…so, ready?"

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | In which you were just innocently playing Genshin in your breaktime and a seemingly psychotic stranger pushed you off the building. The next thing you knew, you clashed heads with a rather apprehenshive Forest Watcher you just saw in your phone screen moments ago—quite literally, in fact.

𝐂𝐖 / 𝐓𝐖 | mention of death (but no death, really); a stranger pushed u off the top building, mention of injuries (but nothing graphic), cursing, brain discussion. Let me know if I missed anything cause its 12 am now lol.

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | you will be given two choices at the end of the prologue! And those choices you will pick will then gonna be branched into different scenarios that will then lead to specific routes :3 also, u can tell how much i like tighnari here lol 😂

masterlist | scene i: argumentum ad hominem | scene ii: argumentum ad ignorantiam

Although you love to read romance novels and fanfics, perhaps you never truly experienced true love for yourself. The ones that they describe as knowing that that person is the one, or feeling the selfless contentment even if your love is not fully returned.

You observed people around you who are in love with each other; your parents, your friends, and even strangers, when they interact with their loved ones, and to be honest, you longed to experience that as well.

When that someone was looking at you with warmth, with that special twinkle in their eyes and the smile that was only reserved for you. That exhilarating feeling of being in love…the boundless joy when your love was returned in full.

…And when you told this to the unlikely person you met in your more unlikely journey, he only laughed and ruffled your hair in adoration.

"Love is a fallacy." He simply said as he turned his back to you, his tone certain and sure.

And, just like you, this person didn't know what love is either.

×××

You didn't know if you're merely built differently or fate just decided to poked fun at you because they're bored.

Slowly, you fluttered your eyes open. Immediately, you shut them again as a blinding light glared into them. You tried again opening just one and allowing it to adjust before the other followed. Light filtering from the nearby windows danced on a branch inches from your face. They were interesting to watch in their mindless waving that you absentmindedly wondered if that incident had dumped you in some psychedelic in-between space-time or something.

Your whole body was aching all over and you felt paralyse, unable to move. The seething pain settling in the pits of your stomach, and the hammering ache in your head indicates that you must've hit it somewhere hard.

As if coming out of a long tunnel, sound starts to be recorded in your ears with increasing intensity. Crackling of fire from a hearth, snapping twigs from the near distant, softly flipping of pages before it stopped…and an increasing volume of a gentle voice saying something nearby.

But before you even try comprehending what they were saying, parts of your brain start discussing the sudden turns of events in your life. And hell, their discussion is making you even more confused.

That's what you get for being so stubborn, [Name]. Your cerebrum accused you.

We were just playing Genshin during our break time! And after our stressful midterms, at that! What's the problem, then? Come to the rescue, your thalamus that is.

Instead of reviewing for your next exam, you went to the rooftop and wasted your time playing Genshin instead? Your cerebellum teased.

And then get pushed around by that psychopath to our death? Your brainstem scoffed in disdain.

Wait. Is it just me or I can't remember anything about that psychopath? Even our conversation with them? Your hippocampus is as confused as you.

Hell! I don't know anymore! The panicking hypothalamus said.

Just shut up, guys. There's something wrong with the person we were part of. Let them collect their thoughts first. Your pons varolii calmly stated.

I'm truly sorry, my brain. You pathetically whimpered when the parts of your brain huffed at you in annoyance. It shouldn't be logically possible, but since nothing that is going on right now is as logical as you liked them to be, you just give up discussing stuff with your brain.

First of all, you had no idea where you were. Second, you felt a soft mattress underneath you, and a fresh wind messing with your hair. But you tried to think over the cloud that seemingly covered your mind, giving yourself time and tried to take slow, even breaths.

Ignoring the annoying parts of your brain, you asked inwardly, what was the last thing you remembered?

You just finished your first batch of exams for your midterms, and you decided to take a break from reviewing by going to the rooftop of the highest building on your university campus. You played Genshin Impact to relax, a favourite video game of yours that you were addicted to for over two years now. You were trying to burn resin by farming artifacts for Tighnari, to whom you may (or may not) recently lost your 50/50 to.

After that…?

A weird woman, a person you're pretty sure you've never seen before, come up to you. Although cautious of the stranger at first, you remembered that she also played Genshin Impact, and you remembered being elated because you have someone to talk to now about your favourite game!

Your conversation lasted for almost an hour, before you remembered that you have another exam coming up within ten minutes, to your disappointment. But before you could say goodbye to your "new friend", all of a sudden, she…

You clearly remember her pushing you off the railing! You were caught off guard, so you haven't had the chance to brace yourself and prepare to grab the handle to stop your downfall!

Holy shiznits!

…if you estimated correctly, the height of that building was physically impossible for any human being to survive!

But here you are.

You also remember the darkness swirling in, melting your vision to a world of black. You closed your eyes again as dizziness hit you, gritting your teeth.

You could not recall any sound, then. But you remembered the darkness and the billowing wind slapping your face as you fell, the loud noises, remembering losing the ground under your feet and grasping at nothing, your Genshin Impact game that was still open on your phone screen was suspended in the air. You remembered being thrown from side to side in the middle of a non-existent tunnel, your head violently jerked. You remembered dread and void…

And, then…you did not remember anything anymore.

For a moment, you felt conflicted. Were you already dead? You were sure that that fall was enough to kill you, but is this what the afterlife feels like?! It was as if you were just back in your room, flipping countless books and notebooks, endlessly and tirelessly reviewing for your exams…

HOLY SHIZNITS. YOU DIDN'T MANAGE TO TAKE YOUR AFTERNOON EXAMS—

If you saw that psychopath again, you'll make sure to sue her for attempted murder! And then slapped her for making you fail in your midterm exams!

Feeling an intensifying alarm and hearing your breathing turned ragged, you hastily peeled your eyes open and looked around in desperation.

What you saw was not something you expected, though. You were lying on a surprisingly fluffy bed, next to you was a quaint window, then a writing desk (with an odd globe-like apparatus that was suspiciously vibrating with green energy). The wall was decorated with colourful patterns of butterflies and different plants you find oddly familiar.

You frowned. Where are you? Why are you still alive? Shiznits, nothing makes sense at all!

There's a small part of your brain that is poking in the deep recesses of your memories. It was telling you to remember that…but remember what, exactly?!

And this room, this familiar room that you were certain you've never been physically in before, were sending cold shivers down your spine.

In your panic, you hastily props your elbows backwards to support yourself as you sit down. Ignoring the dizziness that slapped your head like a hammer to a nail, you threw the soft blankets to the side and tried to stand up.

"—hey!"

Before you could find your balance, a firm but gentle hand grabbed your shoulders and guided you down to the bed again. You couldn't find the momentum to fight back at the hand, as a familiar voice echoed in your ears. One that cleared the fog of uncertainty in your mind and forced you to remember just where you saw those familiar plants, this familiar room, and an equally familiar voice that you had grown to be fond of in a couple of months now.

"Look, I'm not certain with what you were doing with your life, or why did you decided—quite ludicrous, if I do say so myself—that gliding from that high in the sky is a smart thing to do, but if you don't wish to worsen your injuries and force me to send you to Bimarstan, you'll stay in that bed and rest yourself." The familiar person talked to you in a strict tone, almost exasperated, but the underlying concern for your wellbeing was present.

Raising your head, you blinked at him once, then twice. You tried rubbing your eyes, praying this is all a wonderful dream, when he was still standing in front of you after that, you poked his gloved hand once.

Your eyes widened in shock at realisation. "—TIGHNARI?! HOW… W-WHAT…WHY? THIS IS…?! Are you for real?!"

Tighnari, the Forest Watcher Avidya Forest, a recently released Sumeru character, the first playable 5 star Dendro Bow wielder, the character you were just farming artifacts for before your "death"…is standing in front of you!? In the flesh!

He doesn't even seem 3D anymore because the more complicated details in his splash and official art, the ones that were left behind in his 3D model, looks even more complicated now that you were seeing in your own eyes. That was definitely real now.

What in the world is going on?!

One of Tighnari's ears twitched along with his eye. "...Oh, Archons. Do lower down the decibels of your voice. It's grating my ears. And I'm quite certain I've never met you before, and I didn't get the chance to introduce myself when you smacked me in the face earlier, so how come you know my name?"

Confused, you frowned at him, still not believing this is all real. "...uh, what do you mean I smacked you?"

Perhaps he realised that you were still not yourself to answer his questions, so he patiently said, "I saw you free falling from the sky, but before I could have the chance to properly catch you, you instantly smacked right through me, knocking us both right that instant."

His nonchalance was outstanding, especially when you notice the slight reddish bump on his forehead that was probably due to the fact that you knocked your forehead with him when he tried to properly catch you.

After Tighnari finished muttering to himself how it was nearly impossible to have that falling speed, he turned to you with his hands on his hips, his bi-coloured eyes narrowing. "...we'll continue this conversation later, it's time for you to drink your medicine. So, stay there for a moment and don't move. I'll be right back."

Before you could say anything, Tighnari turned his back on you and left the room, leaving you alone with nothing but a quick and curious glance as you watched him disappear behind the doors.

By the way, his real-life tail looks even fluffier than the one in game—

Alone, you finally had time to gather your thoughts. "...This…is not real, right? This must be a dream, right?" You pinched your cheeks and uninjured arms, but the pain that comes with it keeps telling you otherwise, that no…no, [Name] this is not a dream…

Panic started to form at the pit of your stomach, scorching deep as if burning, and you tried your best to relax your breathing by patting your chest multiple times, but instead of calming, you were surprised once again when something appeared in front of you.

"W-What…?"

You stared dumbly at the hologram-like screen hovering before your face innocently. It eerily looks like the Paimon Menu in your Genshin Impact game, minus the Battle Pass, Co-op, and the Community tab. Even the Wish system was here! Though when you tried cautiously tapping it, it was locked, along with the Character Archive and the Handbook.

When your eyes travelled upwards to where your Adventure Rank usually situated, your jaw dropped and you almost fell on the bed in mortification.

[Username]

(No signature)

World Level: 0

Adventure Rank: 1

EXP: 0

Route 1: Listen to Tighnari and wait for his further instructions. After all, what could you do outside of Sumeru with nothing but a body full of injuries and an AR1 on your account?

WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR AR60 ACCOUNT?! WHY IS IT AR1? HELLO—?

TAGLIST (open! Send a dm or ask to be added :3) | @xinii , @maehemthemisfit , @abvolat , @crazypriestess , @ghostsaysno , @kittence , @unabashedlyminiaturetyrant , @xiyanin , @toasterinabathtub ...

Route 2: Forget Tighnari! Maybe it was a wifi problem or something? There must be a problem here why you were back at AR1, right!? You're going to find out whether you have Tighnari's help or not!

#genshin impact #albedo x reader #zhongli x reader #tartaglia x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #ayato x reader #diluc x reader #kazuha x reader #jaded moments—!#gender neutral reader #venti x reader #genshin sagau #sagau

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kasarawolf · 3 months

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"I know I can't save everyone...but I sure as Hell can try."

Kota is not your conventional, run of the mill "Hero."

Self destructive and a rule breaker by nature, Kota sees his body as a "tool," and will often put himself in harm's way to ensure the safety of those around him. Unable to turn a blind eye to those who are fated to die in Main Timeline events while out on Patrol, Kota will break the Laws of Time and intervene by saving these ghosts of the past, even if it only does "delay the inevitable," in the long run. He can't in good conscious, continue his job as the appointed "Hero of Conton," and ignore these past tragedies, especially when he has all this power to do something about it. It eats away at him.

But no matter how many people he saves, no matter how many times he goes back in Time and no matter what he does to atone for past transgressions, it never seems enough as the void in his heart grows day by every passing day.

He is no Hero. These are only the acts of a selfish man, filling a role.

---------------------------

My brain never works when it comes to writing these ;_; My entry for the Star Universe pageant over on twitter ^_^

The last two lines are what Kota thinks of himself. He really hates being called a Hero and wholeheartedly believes he's not saving these people, just out of the "goodness of his heart." He just wants the voices to stop.

This would have been uploaded days ago, if the dumb lines for the main colored Kota didn't get all jacked up B) But it is done and fixed!

Decided to use this entry to show off some of my story :D Kota is an Anti Hero and his choices are a little...questionable in my fic :)

#myart #Kota Briefs #dragon ball comic #dragonball heroes #dragon ball z #drawing #dragonball #xenoverse 2 #dragon ball #xenoverse #dragonballxenoverse #dragon ball xenoverse #xenoverse oc #dragon ball xenoverse 2 #dbz xenoverse #dbz oc #DBZ

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huntingingoodwill · 2 years

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wild women don't get the blues (t.s.)

masterlist

pairing: tommy shelby x reader

request: i also wanted to see if you could possibly write up some something I’ve been thinking about since I've been rewatching the series and I’m currently on S2 when an idea suddenly struck me for a juicy angsty piece. it’s during the scene in which Tommy and Grace reunite and in which she asks him “Tommy, do you have someone?” in my mind i pictured possibly the reader x tommy x grace with inevitable infidelity, anger, hurt and some guilt? you can decide the ending and everyone’s fate.

a/n: anon i love you for giving me the opportunity to write a juicy argument secondly i worry you may not see this because i am bad at requests and you sent this two months ago i'm sorry!! but thank you for the sweet ask you sent :) i'd love it if you could drop me an ask if you do end up seeing this. either way i hope you enjoy <3 (p.s. thank you @sunsetmourners for helping me pick a title. i still hate you. ily.)

“You need better locks.” Smoke spilled from your lips as you spoke, obscuring your face in a silvery cloud. You were barely illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the windows.

Tommy looked down at the door to his office. The broken lock swung on its hinge pathetically.

You sat in his desk chair, eyeing him as he walked into the room. He flipped on the light. Instantly, the room was bathed in the lamps’ golden warmth.

“Why’re you here, then?” He asked off-handedly, as if you hadn’t just shown up to his office, unannounced, in the middle of the night.

“I was thirsty.” You said drily. “Be a darling and get me a drink, won’t you?”

A few moments in his office, and you were already treating him like your secretary.

He smirked, moving to pour you a glass of whiskey.

He held the glass out before quickly moving it out of your reach. Your eyebrows furrowed, and he couldn’t help but smile at the pout that formed on your lips. "Not until you tell me why you’ve really come.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully as you stood to lean against his desk. “We have business to discuss.”

Still, he withheld. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

You chuckled as he stepped toward you, the amber liquor sloshing temptingly in the glass. “I got lucky.” You shrugged. "I have to leave tonight, so I thought there’d be no harm trying. Anyway, when are you not here? I’ve been in Birmingham long enough to tell you’re a slave to your work. Like I am. That’s why we’ll work together perfectly.” You grinned, snatching the drink out of his hand. You tilted it toward him in a toast, watching him over the rim of the glass as you took a sip.

You had sauntered into Small Heath a week ago, demanding a meeting with the Shelbys. They weren’t at all what you had imagined when Alfie recommended them as “the men who’ll help you get the job done”. You were disappointed in how idle they looked in the snug of the Garrison, smoking, drinking and reading the paper. You’d give them something to do.

Their ears perked up when they found out who you were. Your family had a thriving business back in London. Someone less modest would’ve called it an empire.

But there was always more money to be made.

You were working with the richest men and women in London, convincing them to invest in your family’s company, all while secretly draining their funds right under their noses. The Shelbys would help you move the money, exporting goods and making the cash seem legitimate. It was risky. But if it went to plan, you’d all be in the green.

Ever since you and Tommy had met each other, you’d piqued each other’s interests. He felt a draw to you, an unexplainable twinge triggering in his heart whenever you walked into the room.

He felt it now as he stood before you.

“I was waiting here a while, Tommy.” You mumbled, lazily dragging a finger down his arm. “You should be thankful.” You joked, smile playing at your lips. “I’m not used to being kept waiting.”

Tommy moved even closer, cornering you between him and the table.

“Poor thing. D’you miss me?”

“Don’t make me laugh.” You grinned. “I’m just awfully impatient, is all.”

He took the glass from you, draining it before putting it on the table. He took your cigarette from between your fingers, tossing it in his ashtray, before wrapping his arms around your waist, closing the distance between you two.

You plucked the cap off his head, turning it over in your hand curiously.

“Stop it. You’ll cut someone.” He spoke.

You smiled sweetly, holding the cap beneath his chin, razor glinting as you aimed it at his throat.

“What, don’t you trust me?” You giggled.

You tossed the hat away, putting a hand on his shoulder. He was quick to reach up, folding his hand around yours as you ran a thumb across his cheekbone.

“‘Course I trust you.” He mumbled as he leaned in, kissing you.

Your hand travelled to the nape of his neck, sliding up to his shock of dark hair, fingers entangling in the locks as he kissed you fervently, and you responded in kind.

Then, all too soon, you dug your manicured fingers into his hair, pulling his head back.

Your hand slid down his chest, stopping at his watch fob. You checked the time.

“I must be going now, Tommy.”

He held you close, adamant.

“I expect to see you in London.” You ran your hands up and down his arms affectionately before reaching behind your back, grabbing them and pushing them back to his sides.

“You expect?” He raised an eyebrow as he leaned back.

“I expect.” You spoke resolutely as you moved away from him, fixing your hair as you picked up your purse. You hoped, more than anything. You wanted to see him again. “I’ll be meeting Clive Macmillan.” You didn’t even notice how Tommy flinched at the name. “He’s a banker. He’ll be helping with the books. It’d help if you met him.”

“If you want me to meet him, he can come to Birmingham.” Headstrong as ever.

You clicked your tongue. “Don’t be stubborn, Tommy. He won’t come all the way to your office just to see you.”

“Did you?”

You turned to face him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Did I what?”

“Come all the way to my office, just to see me. You could’ve called, left a message with Lizzie… but you came here, hoping I’d show up before you had to leave.”

You felt your face heat up, praying he wouldn’t notice the tinge of red colouring your cheeks. You scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He gave you a knowing smile.

It was completely true.

“Don’t be cocky, Shelby. It’s not a good look on you.” You glanced back at him. “Goodnight.”

Just like that, you were gone.

Tommy looked back down in his ashtray. Amongst the pile of his cigarette butts and dark ash laid one half-smoken cigarette, the end stained red with your lipstick.

“Tommy.”

Receiver held to his ear, Tommy sat completely still in an opulent suite in your family’s London hotel. The only indicator that time hadn’t completely frozen was the ash that fell gently from the end of his smoldering cigarette, paused on its journey to his lips.

“Tommy? Are you there?” The tinny voice filtered through the phone.

He cleared his throat.

“Yes, Grace?”

He hadn’t expected to hear from her again. He had welcomed their reunion a month prior, but he saw the awful look of guilt written on her face as she got dressed after. She was thinking of her husband, of course. Clive Macmillan had seemed so inconsequential to the both of them moments before. Tommy had thought the look in her eyes said it all. He thought she’d never want to see him again. He thought it was over.

“I heard you’re in London. I want to see you. Tonight.” Grace said.

Instantly, he thought of you.

He had arrived earlier that afternoon.

Even in the cavernous lobby, surrounded by crowds of tourists and the luxurious interior, you had caught his eye immediately.

Of course, he had noticed the subtle smile playing on your lips from across the room as your gaze met his, and your surreptitious nod toward a quiet corridor.

“I knew you’d come, stubborn as you are.” You had chuckled as you joined him. The both of you had leaned against the wall opposite to one another, watching each other. It was not in both your natures to admit it, and it had only been a couple of days, but you had missed each other.

“Thanks for coming, Tommy. Your men won’t have to hold up your end of the bargain for a good while yet but…” You were happy to see him. Sunlight flooded through the windows, falling across your face, soft in a look of genuine happiness. The rare look behind your cold exterior was a thing of beauty to him.

“‘Course I’d come.” He said. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand to hold yours. Slowly, your hand lifted to meet his. “Let me take you out after we meet that banker of yours. I’m only here a night. We’ll make the most of it.”

“Promise?” You laughed.

“Promise.” He responded.

You nodded, smiling softly. Your unassuming, sweet expression had made his lips quirk up at the corners.

Both your hands had shot quickly back to your sides as one of your staff members came looking for you. He watched as you took on your air of professionalism. He missed your smile.

Your wrist had brushed his as you walked away from him, and you shot him a look over your shoulder as you were being led away.

Now, sitting in his hotel room, that look was burned into his memory.

He watched time tick away on the clock on the wall. Closer and closer to when you and Grace were expecting him.

He had to make a choice.

The shrill doorbell rang. Tommy steeled himself as he reached for the doorknob. He swung the door open.

Grace stood on the other side, fidgeting in a fine dress. Clive took care of her. Her eyes flashed up and down the street, nervously.

Even when looking at her, the thought of you haunted him, a feeling of overwhelming guilt surging through him. He remembered your smile.

He turned, so he wouldn’t have to see her. It just made him wish he’d chosen differently. He busied himself with fixing her a drink, ignoring the feeling of Grace’s eyes burning into his back.

“You had to talk to me, Grace?” He said, mind wandering to the thought of you, alone, wondering where he went. “I’ve a meeting, so we’ve not much time-“ He was lying. He was already late to the meeting with Clive, but maybe if he’d hurried, he could still make it in time to meet you. To make things right.

“Tommy.” She interrupted him, the excuses dissipating in his throat.

He turned to look at her, and she pushed away the drink he offered, beads of condensation already forming on the cool glass. She shook her head.

She reached for his hands, gripping them as the light from the fireplace cast orange hues across their faces.

“I’m pregnant.” She whispered.

Tommy’s heart quickened as she led his tremoring hand toward her stomach.

“I want the child to be with its father.”

He remained silent.

“But I need to know if you’re in this with me, Tommy. I want us to do this, together. But I won’t leave the child without a father if you say no.”

He turned to look at the flame, crackling and dancing in the fireplace. He thought of how the light shone on your face that morning, and thinking of you made a twinge of both affection and of deep remorse surface in his heart.

“I need to know.” Grace implored, knuckles tightening around his hands. “Do you have someone, Tommy?”

He closed his eyes, and thought of you.

He had to make a choice.

Then, he kissed her.

That night, as Grace and Tommy lay next to each other, he made a promise he wouldn’t break. He’d need a week to make the arrangements. Then, they’d be off to New York. Together.

You drifted in and out of his dreams, that night. Sometimes he even thought it was you lying next to him.

He opened the door to be met with a slap to the face.

He stared you down, more shocked by your presence than by the burn of his cheek from the impact.

“Is the lady of the house in?” Your jaw was tight as you asked the question, but your tone was so off-handed it was as if you hadn’t just shown up outside his and Grace’s New York hotel room after not having any contact with him since he left London almost two weeks ago.

He shook his head.

“Good.” You punctuated the word with another slap, this time whacking him across the face with your purse. “Move aside. I need a drink.”

You pushed past him, busying yourself at the bar cart, back turned to him.

“(Y/N), if this is about the meeting-“ He began, guilt and regret shooting through him as he watched you.

You froze, as if his voice repulsed you.

“No, Thomas. It’s not about the meeting.” Your voice was dangerously calm, almost saccharine.

Slowly, you picked up an exquisite crystal glass, holding it to the light. There was a trace of Grace’s lipstick on the rim, neglected by the cleaning staff. “I think it was good you didn’t come.”

Casually, as if it were nothing at all, you tossed the glass over your shoulder. It shattered on impact, glass spraying across the floor. “You would have been dead weight, anyway.”

You picked up another glass, turning it in your hands. Too much dust. “You see, where my problem lies is that you’ve fucked with my business. You’ve fucked with my family.” His stomach turned.

One more thrown over your shoulder, and the glass crashed against the floor, the shards glinting in the light.

“But you were probably too involved in your attempts to get the clap to think about something as silly as that, weren’t you?”

Your fingers ran over the rest of the glasses, none of them satisfactory. With one sweep of your hand, you sent them clattering to the floor, the noise of shattering glass exploding all around the two of you.

“Congratulations on the engagement, by the way.” You spoke, picking up a bottle of liquor by its neck. “A beautiful woman from Poughkeepsie… and oh! With a baby, already on the way! How utterly quaint!” You brought the bottle down upon the cart, the liquid splashing onto the floor as the bottle burst. The neck of the bottle still in your hand, you gestured with it, the sharp, jagged edge shimmering in the sunlight.

“Does her husband know?” Your voice dropped, the sarcastic words dripping of venom. “Did you kill him?”

“What?” Tommy recoiled.

You tossed the neck of the bottle aside, crushing glass beneath your feet as you walked toward him.

“Don’t play dumb with me. When they found him in his suite in my hotel, the coroner said it looked like suicide. But I wouldn’t be so quick to trust their word for it, knowing the types of traitorous bastards his wife associated with. Did you kill him, Thomas? Was it easy? A matter of convenience, to get him out of the way so you could keep his wife’s bed warm?” Your incessant questioning made the room suffocating with tension.

“Oh.” You paused. “But you wouldn’t, would you? You’re too much of a coward.” You hissed. “Perhaps you got one of your little men to do it-“

“Oh, come on, (Y/N)-“

“Do you realise what you’ve done?" You snapped. "Not only did his death give me another mess to clean, more dirty laundry to cover up, but if the coppers come sniffing around the circumstances of Clive’s suicide and uncover the stolen funds linked to me, who's ass do you think is going to be on the line?!" Your voice crested, ripe with pure rage. "My entire family’s business could crumble, and you sacrificed it all for…for…”

For her. Tommy thought. He felt a sickening guilt shoot through him, the shame weighing heavy on his shoulders.

“All you had to do was listen to me.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “What do I have to do to make people fucking listen to me?” You grumbled under your breath as you marched toward the door.

“Where you going?” He called out.

“To fix your mess-“

“Leave it. I’ll fix it. I’ll make it right, for us-“

“Us!” You laughed incredulously. “What ‘us’? There is no us.” You spat.

You made it to the door, swinging around to look at him once more. “Don’t bother trying to make it right, because you can’t. Don’t fight for my honour. There was a time I would’ve fought for yours, but now I’m not so sure you have any.”

You left him alone, standing amongst a pile of glittering, shattered glass. Ashamed.

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby fic #peaky blinders

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aldbooks · 4 months

Text

A Strange Melody - Ch 12 - Epilogue

@sunshinebingo

AO3

6 months later

Azriel, long used to seeing in the dark, stared across his pillow on the longest night of the year at his new wife sleeping beside him. Even in the darkness, she seemed to glow softly like the bond humming contentedly in his chest.

Running his eyes over the soft curves of her freckled face, he thought back to that day on the beach when everything changed…

The sea god’s power was so immense, Azriel could feel it rolling off of him in waves that made even his shadows pause in awe. The man smiled at his mate in an almost fatherly manner before shifting an assessing gaze to Azriel. Amusement lit his hypnotic eyes as he eyed Azriel’s wings.

“I see the cauldron did not just bless you with a fae mate, but a bird.” Azriel bristled slightly but the sea god just chuckled. “You were always a child of land and sea, my dear,” he continued, his attention back on Gwyn who leaned against Azriel’s chest. Glancing down he saw her delicate brow furrow.

“Your father was a sailor who washed up on this very beach after a storm. Your mother was infatuated with him the first moment she saw him and nursed him back to health. They were quite happy for a time, but inevitably, as all sailors do, he felt the call to return to the sea. He promised to return, and I believe he would have, had his next voyage not been as ill fated as the one that led them to each other.”

He felt Gwyn stiffen in his arm at this news. Azriel was a little shocked himself. She was half fae. What did that mean? She seemed to be just as susceptible to the sea’s magic as any other of her kind.

“Perhaps the cauldron knew that one day you would wish to leave the sea and gave you a mate to call you to your father’s home,” he looked almost sad as he said this and Azriel wondered again just what sort of relationship Gwyn had with the sea god.

“So I am to split my time between the land and the sea for the rest of my life? That doesn’t seem fair,” Gwyn asked softly. Azriel held her more tightly. He too was dreading having to sacrifice half of his time with his mate to the sea but he would sacrifice anything to have even that little time with her.

The sea god’s smile widened. “Years ago, when you and your sister were first born, your mother came to me and asked a favor…” Azriel stilled, feeling Gwyn do the same.

He had watched in awe as the sea god summoned the golden triton he was so often depicted with, the source of his power, and pointed the tips of its gleaming tines at Gwyn. Shimmering magic filled the air around them, glowing brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding. Gwyn gasped, clutching the arm around her waist and Azriel pulled her more firmly into his chest, blindly shielding them both with his wings until the light faded and they both stared down at…

Gwyn released a choked sound as she curled her knees up to her chest, lifting one pale foot out of the water. Her toes wiggled experimentally and she laughed, the sound vibrating in his soul like a bell.

The sea god explained that Gwyn’s mother had discovered when the twins were toddlers that they were able to move between land and sea at will and, after a particularly harrowing incident where Catrin had wandered from the shore of one of the islands and into a village on her own, and their mother had almost run out of time to find her before she was forced to return to the sea, she had come to him asking him to bind their power until they were both of age and better able to protect themselves. She had intended to tell them both of their heritage when they were ready and allow them to make the choice themselves to continue living as the oceanids did, or reclaim their ability to landwalk.

“You are still a child of the sea and will still need to return to these waters from time to time,” he told Gwyn with a pointed look. “But, you will have much more freedom to come and go as you please. And I hope you might occasionally decide to visit an old man now and again…”

The sea god’s eyes softened as Gwyn gave him a teary grin and nodded. “Thank you.”

“It is your birthright, my dear… but I wish you joy, Gwyneth.” His gaze shifted to Azriel who had been too stunned to move for most of the exchange. “Treat her well, Illyrian, or even your own gods will not save you from me.”

Swallowing hard, Azriel had nodded and sworn, “Like the treasure she is.”

Satisfied, the god had bade them farewell and disappeared into the dark depths below. Azriel had quickly wrapped Gwyn in his shirt and flown them back to the palace where he introduced her to his family as his mate and she had been welcomed by them all with open arms.

They had courted properly over the last few months as Gwyn became better acquainted with his home and found a place for herself amongst their court. Azriel had still opted to commission a house to be built on the island where he’d found her again, a place for them to be alone together, especially when Gwyn returned to the sea once a month for more than her daily swim. He had tried once to let her take him below but the inability to use his wings and the strange sensation of breathing underwater had unsettled him and so he contented himself with waiting for her on the shore of their island for her to return.

Finally, they had decided to consummate their bond in a small, intimate ceremony on a night his people deemed sacred, surrounded by their family and friends. After a lively Solstice dinner in which they were repeatedly, and obnoxiously toasted by their loved ones, Azriel had flown them out to the little cottage where they would spend the next month thoroughly consummating that bond.

He’d already taken her multiple times, but even still, his body and that tether in his soul, ached for more. He wondered, as he reached out and gently swept a lock of hair from her face, if he would ever have enough of her.

At his touch, Gwyn stirred, sighing as she blinked her luminescent eyes open and gave him a lazy, satisfied smile. She reached for him in the same moment he did her and they were once again lost to that strange melody that sang between their souls.

#gwynriel #don't mind me completely forgetting about the epilogue 😅

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yuujism · 9 months

Text

Tainted Promises (geto suguru x reader)

Part 1: Tainted

| PAIRINGS: gojo satoru x gn!reader x getou suguru

| WARNINGS: suggestive, explicit language, smut soon (next chapter will have tags) woo plot, established relationship, cheating, toxic, revenge, angst, kinda modified so it can fit the story (implied to be set after riko's death and geto's spiralling but uhh...), reader's sex and physical appearance is never mentioned, grammar errors

| WORD COUNT: 2.1k

| A/N: i'm back but im not really back lol this is the first part of a small series I started writing like 2 years ago and found in my notes app so... why not publish it and let people read it even if i am not currently writing? anyway idk if people remember me but thank u for supporting my works even after all this time and liking them :) see you in 2 more years LOL (jk ... unless...)

They were the strongest.

Those words resonated as an echo in Suguru’s mind since that day, the meaning behind those words still a total mystery. Perhaps it was meant as a responsibility. An inevitable fate.

An implicit promise.

He didn’t think much of it before Satoru’s serious words struck him like a lightning inside the eye of the storm, coming back to Suguru in form of dreams. Nightmares. Images of welcoming bloody hands spread towards him, an invitation, perhaps even a threat, to join a lawless world dictated by the untouchable. The strongest.

No. That wasn’t Suguru’s ideal.

Who cared about being the strongest among all? Rules were necessary. Listen to the higher-ups, complete missions, save and protect humans, swallow curses, taint yourself. Swallow, taint, conserve the peace. That was the job of a jujutsu sorcerer. That was the job of Geto Suguru.

Responsible, dutiful, diplomatic and strong.

So why was Satoru—his teammate, his accomplice, his best friend—different from him? A rule breaker, a rebellious soul with god complex issues, an idiot, incapable of seriousness and apathetic.

Why, even with all those flaws to Suguru’s eyes, could Satoru get someone like you in his life?

You, just like Suguru, followed the rules. A professional sorcerer that cared for the weak, getting out of their way to protect the smallest and even the biggest. Top of the class after him, Yaga’s right hand, the favourite of the higher-ups, probably even more trustable than Suguru himself. However, now with your brand new relationship with Satoru? Not that much. He knew that way too well.

Tainted. Making a promise with Satoru would get anyone tainted.

The probelms seemed to have started one month after the beginning of your story together. A few weeks later, they were too obvious for Suguru -or anyone- to ignore. Hints of sleepless nights appeared on your features and the memories of an unknown scent that followed Satoru’s clothes kept haunting you along with the jealousy and hurt in your body. Missed calls, ditched dates and a small bruise on your lover’s neck. It quickly became toxic. Almost unbearable. Suguru knew it. You knew it.

And you both played dumb.

Responsible. You had to be responsible for your actions. You made a promise after all, and, ever the diplomatic sorcerer, you were intending to keep it. Swallowing the pain and hatred, the sadness and sorrow, the embarrassment and anger, you decided to keep living with the lie that was Gojo Satoru as proudly as your shattered dignity allowed you. You were better than him but for how long?

Rules were necessary. You followed the rules as a religion. But what good did that ever bring you?

Suguru could already sense it, perhaps even before you noticed. The corruption that anger and impotence could bring you. It was unstoppable once it started spreading, taking over your thoughts and ideals to then consume your actions. Satoru was the strongest in almost every sense that he became a poisonous time bomb for the ones surrounding him. It just happened to explode in your face to suffer the majority of the consequences.

But were you the only one living them? You certainly weren’t the only one ignoring the menace that Satoru was. And definitely not the only one involved closely with said sorcerer.

Suguru vividly remembers the shared laughs between him and his best friend after the story of how Satoru cheated on you. Repeatedly. A good fuck, he described you, his favourite toy so far. But Suguru knew him too well, right? He understood him better than anyone to even expect him to get in a serious relationship, right? That’s why they were best friends, the strongest, the rulers of the new to come sorcery world. Right?

Right. Satoru was right. Even if Suguru’s brain didn’t stop replaying images of you with clenched teeth and hands closed in a tight fist, angry eyes staring at Satoru’s figure from afar to quickly change into your usual loving and submissive demeanour when he turned to look at you, he agreed. Even if Suguru felt himself become worse than he ever was when you gave him the sweetest of smiles even after laughing at you with Satoru for the nth time behind your back, he agreed.

Because Satoru was hard-to-swallow for Suguru, yet he kept indulging himself into the bittersweet taste that was that friendship over and over again.

Rules, responsibilities, strength, empathy. None of that mattered when Satoru was in the picture. The only thing that mattered was a promise. At the end of the day, they were best friends for a reason and you were with him for a reason.

That didn’t change the fact Suguru could treat you so much better. Be so much better. His heart dropped at the thought. Was he in the position to even think that after being accomplice of Satoru’s actions? After playing along and laughing at you? At this point, he was as guilty as your current cheat of a lover. But he could still have a chance, could he not? He was strong, responsible and professional. Would he be any better than Satoru? He thought he would. He hoped he would.

Suguru’s mind started flooding with questions once again, self-doubt dripping from every single one of them until his thoughts were flooded with insecurities and rage. Rage? Strange yet oddly familiar. The warmth travelling over his body felt nice for once. No longer suppressed and set free to quickly come down from that high to feel guilty once again. Why would he feel rage towards Satoru? He was his best friend.

Was he?

Oh, how Suguru missed that little voice inside his head. A voice that he silenced long ago. The one that told him to commit the unbelievable, that went against all his morals and ideals, the one that ordered him to swallow and swallow, not for the greater good but for him to become stronger. Because he could. Because he wanted to. The voice that was as tainted as his thoughts were right now.

And now, as his chest tightened with anger and his body ached with hunger of power, Suguru never felt more as himself as he did now. Strong and capable, the maker of his own rules and own world. A perfect world. He was right back then when he thought of the weak as simple as that: weak. And he was right to feel what he avoided to feel all that time.

Power.

Suguru had the power to ignore the responsibility that came along with it. He had the power to follow his own path with his own decisions without having to live behind someone else’s shadow. To get what he wanted whenever he wanted.

Responsible, dutiful, diplomatic and strong.

That was Geto Suguru. And right now, he wanted you.

And nobody noticed. Not Satoru, his proclaimed best friend, who kept playing around lost in the pleasure of both you and the freedom of being the strongest. Not the higher-ups who kept relying on him to keep an eye on the threat that was Satoru. Not his acquaintances that followed him mindlessly into a slowly growing empire. His empire.

Nobody noticed the power growth in Suguru. Nobody except you.

Strong. Suguru was strong in your eyes. With sly movements, smug smile and a powerful stance. Completely overshadowed by the confidence of your current lover until the day he looked at you from above. Both figuratively and literally. His eyes held a promise, a completely different kind from Satoru’s that you understood way too well it scared you.

Carnal, passionate and angry. That was his promise. A shiver ran down your spine at the mere sight of Suguru, responsible and respectful Suguru, smirking at you. Dark and dangerous. A different Suguru. Because you both shared the same ideal. Rules were necessary. And this time he was the one who made the rules.

You weren’t interested. At least you tried to convince yourself you weren’t. Rules weren’t meant to be broken nor renewed, not by Suguru, not by you, not by anyone. So why did you feel excited at the thought of going against your own morals? To break, destroy and betray everything and everyone along with your lover’s best friend? It shouldn’t surprise you, in fact, you were not surprised.

Your promise to Satoru started losing importance when you considered meeting with Suguru. You lied to yourself by thinking it would be to have a small talk, to ask for an explanation behind the meaning of that moment between the two of you and kindly reject whatever he wanted to propose. It sure didn’t matter anymore when you were under his dark gaze at the step of his door, mouth open in a silent gasp at the power Suguru, overshadowed Suguru, radiated, never losing his gentle and highly demanour as he let you in with a soft smile on his face and the smooth sound of your name leaving his mouth.

A treacherous silence filled the room as time seemed to freeze between the two of you, staring at each other seconds after closing the door.

You wanted to yell at him for even thinking he could get away with whatever he had in mind. For deeming you so low to think you would break the promise to Satoru and betray him when you were better than that. But were you when excitement was making your legs shake when Suguru’s eyes landed on your lips for a small second? Were you better when you couldn’t stop thinking in the way his large hands would feel on your body?

The answer was crystal clear: you weren’t. You never were.

And realisation hit you. It hit you harder than Satoru’s cheating. And it sure hit you harder than the surprise you felt when you threw yourself at Suguru’s arms, lips crashing in a desperate kiss.

Because all those times, Suguru could see through you and he was a great pretender too. He saw your hatred and your thirst for revenge, the constant fight within you to stop yourself from breaking the rules. To disobey the higher-ups. To betray Yaga. To hurt Satoru. They all deserved it. How pretentious of you to even think you were any better than any of them.

You and Suguru were the same. Responsible, dutiful, diplomatic and strong. Suguru just happened to be stronger.

As Suguru’s large hands roamed over your waist to push you closer to his own body as his tongue entered the warmth of your own mouth, you realised something else. You didn’t want Suguru and neither did he want you. What you both wanted was the power taht was long taken away from you.

Power over a certain sorcerer.

It seemed Suguru noticed your change in demanour as your tangled your hand in his long silky hair and slightly pulled, the aggressiveness of your tongue along with his making him let out a groan that you swallowed with a whimper before he pulled away, a sly smirk on his face.

“You sure didn’t need any explanation, did you?” Suguru muttered as one of his hands traveled to your cheek, his thumb caressing your now wet lips as he eyed you. Such a gentle move yet so dominant. Expected from someone like Suguru. “Finally grew tired of Satoru cheating on you?”

That was unexpected.

Rage filled your body once again as you slapped his hand away from your face, glaring at him just the same way you’ve glared at Satoru when he wasn’t looking. Suguru chuckled as he grabbed your face once again, this time a little rougher as he turned you to face him again, other hand sneaking under your shirt to feel the soft skin under it. You held back a moan.

“Oh, come on. It was a small joke.” He playfully stated, long fingers drawing circles on the side of your waist as you grew impatient and angry. At what? You weren’t sure.

“An unfunny one at that.” You finally spoke and Suguru raised an eyebrow at the unknown and new stern tone your voice held. The sweet, professional and kind goody two shoes forsaken under his influence. “I didn’t come here for a stand-up show.”

Your hands made their move again, landing on the collar of his shirt as you got closer again, anticipation giving you the confidence you lost before.

“I can see that.”

And just like that, your mouths crashes again, this time angrier, hungrier. Suguru’s comment about Satoru cheating on you lit an agressive fire within you that you tried to extinguish. But here, between Suguru’s arms and the feeling of his mouth now travelling down your neck, you finally felt free.

Next chapter (spicy) preview: "Your boyfriend likes sloppy seconds, did you know that? Should I just cum inside you and send you off to him dripping with my seed? Hm?"

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x geto suguru #geto suguru #gojo satoru #suguru x reader #satoru x reader

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cat-esper · 2 months

Text

I thought I'd redo my intro post and this time make it ✨pretty✨

I'm Cat [she/her | aroace] and I write sci-fi and fantasy with a dose of cosmic horror. I love mixing genres and general experimentation. Whether my work is marketable or not is less important than having fun. My absolute favorite things are found family, robots, and time travel, and I am a firm believer that platonic relationships can be just as fierce and important as romantic ones. Most of my novels are set within a shared universe I call the Starfish Saga and that's my main focus, though I do have quite a few exciting projects outside that.

I am quite shy but love making new writer friends and am open to tag games and ask games and other sorts of writerly socialization.

I have...a lot of projects. A worrying amount I try not to think about. But! Below the cut, you'll find the ones I'm focusing on for the time being, now with new and improved titles.

Books of the Starfish Saga

The Last Paladin | YA science fantasy | 12 part series

When Chelsea Seaver's parents are abducted by aliens, she embarks on a grand adventure across the galaxy--making friends and learning magic on the way--to bring them home.

Status: drafting book 3, editing book 1

Intro | WIP tag

Incantations of the Mad Mage | YA epic fantasy | 6 part series

In order to honor her dead mentor, battle mage Arna Vaughn races against the Sforia Empire to locate six legendary magic spells that have the power to end a bloody war; whoever finds them first will change the course of their world forever.

Status: drafting book 4 (on hold pending outline changes)

Intro | WIP tag

Records of the Spiral | YA portal fantasy | 4 part series

Three misfits stumble into a surreal world inhabited by strange creatures and watched over by the eldritch Enochians; it's a place they belong to more than Earth and if they don't want to see it destroyed, they'll need to stop the very beings who created it in the first place.

Status: drafting book 1

Intro | WIP tag

Music of the Spheres | YA science fantasy | standalone

Shay Finnegan leaves everything behind when he decides to become a light-wielding Paladin, a protector of the galaxy, in order to find a higher purpose and avoid the fate that haunts him with the words you will bring everything to ruin.

Status: rewriting for the millionth time

Intro | WIP tag

Red Ghost | YA contemporary fantasy | novella

Mel Black joins a ghost-killing organization in order to free the spirit of her dead friend from a fate worse than death, but saving him might just mean the end of humanity.

Status: pending edits

Intro | WIP tag

Nightland Nexus | epic fantasy | 5 part series

As tensions rise across the worlds, a group of characters seek to satisfy their own ambitions, but they'll need to team up and unite the worlds to prevent a long-dormant Darkness from awakening.

Status: world-building

Intro | WIP tag

Other Projects

The Zodiac Circuit | post-apocalyptic sci-fi | duology

Rhys Valencya reluctantly teams up with an android in order to stop her own family from resurrecting the lich that almost wiped out humanity centuries ago.

Status: drafting book 1

Intro | WIP tag

Androids Don't Rust | time travel | standalone

With human extinction inevitable, four androids are sent into the past to retrieve data for the Archive that will outlast humanity.

Status: very early planning stages

Intro | WIP intro

Robbery on the Hell Express | weird western | novella

Occasional partners and oftentimes enemies, Harlan Nye and John Callahan team up to rob a ghost train--betrayal, deadly wraiths, and a lethal race against the clock mean they may not make it out of this alive.

Status: planning

Intro | WIP tag

If any of them pique your interest and you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!

#writeblr intro #writeblr #writers on tumblr

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captaincryolicious · 2 years

Text

— velocity

➳ xiao x gn!reader (ft. liyue characters)

➳ oneshot ; 10.8k

➳ strangers to lovers, modern street race au, fluff, action ; cursing, car crash (nothing extreme), alcohol, childe is a bit of an ass, slowburn

although you were all but happy with how uneventful your life was, you weren't one to seek out risk and adventure yourself - until at some point, these two matters found you instead, taking the shape of a new student in your social studies class.

you finally found the thrill you were longing for, but the illegal scene you ended up in had more in store for you than you thought.

content under the cut | masterlist

Childe. A name that had brought a tapestry of changes to your simple life ever since you met the guy who went by it.

It used to be best described as plain; though you weren't necessarily a goody-two-shoes, you weren't living a wild life either. You were… just there, existing. Your life was a steady cadence of various colleges at random times of the week, wasting your free time cooped up inside your apartment, making plans for the weekend but still ending up behind your playstation, and being all alone with your beloved cat most of the time.

But Childe changed all that, on a fateful Wednesday morning a few weeks after the start of the new semester.

An unfamiliar guy had walked into the lecture hall where you followed your social studies colleges. You didn't think much of it, aside from the inevitable hm, cute because he really was cute, until the guy decided it was necessary to slip into the seat next to you out of all the vacant seats that were available.

"Morning, I'm Childe," was the first thing he told you, sending you a boyish yet charming smile. You were quick to decide that you didn't mind the company.

He was talkative and easygoing, nice and funny. From one thing soon came another, and you had found yourself a best friend that wasn't a cat.

That was months ago. Being friends for quite some time had evoked enough mutual trust for the guy to let you in on a different part of his life. For the longest time your life had been lacking spice, but what Childe revealed to you turned that all around.

It was still in your memory as clear as ever; the day where you entered the lecture hall with your mind set on another plain day in your plain life, until you found the seat next to you empty and noticed a note folded messily on your chair, asking you to meet him at the West gate at four pm.

You jokingly wondered if he was going to confess to you or something like that as you approached the West gate six minutes before the clock would strike four. He did, but his confession regarded something you had never expected.

☆

You never expected to find yourself on a dark dirt lot in the middle of nowhere at one in the morning, but sometimes new people seemed to bring changes along with them as they stepped into your life with a goofy grin.

"I may or may not be racing illegally at night," he told you that day with an awkward breathy laugh – and before you knew it you were on the same abandoned dirt lot as you were now.

It was far from abandoned now, though. There were about forty others, each sticking to their own group of friends among the small crowd – which usually included the racer and their friends, supporters, and maybe a few people who found the lot by accident and were intrigued enough to stick around and become regulars here.

All the races had been done for the day, so everyone was just hanging around for the sake of being there, either lounging on the rusty metal bleachers or leaning against the cars that belonged to the street racers that had rode a match earlier. The entire lot was brightly illuminated by large floodlights that surrounded almost the entire acreage, drowning the lot in a light so intense that it almost made you forget about the fact that it was already far past midnight.

An old and rusty pickup truck was parked in the middle of the open space, the subwoofer perched in the back currently blasting some emo rap. You had no idea who put it on, but you felt a serious gratitude towards this person because the techno music that had previously blasted over the lot hurt your ears.

Some of the attendees decided to take the atmosphere of tonight up a notch and started handing out red solo cups filled with cheap beer mixed with water a while ago, but you had kindly declined the offer and instead opted for a bottle of soda one of Childe's friends handed you. Yet, you still watched with mild amusement how more and more people around you got wasted, some of them acting like serious fools under the watching eye of the ones that chose to remain sober. The smell of alcohol mingled with the penetrating scent of gasoline that lingered in the air, but over time you had grown a strange liking towards the smell.

This place was always so alive, brimming with adrenaline and energy and the buzz of excitement was everlasting. It had literally put your life upside-down, but in the best way possible. Your boring and dull life was over.

At the moment you were seated on the hood of Childe's race car, and your close surroundings were covered in a hue of blue and purple that came from the led underglow your best friend had attached to the underside of the chassis. One of his friends was talking to you as they leaned against the car, but you gave up long ago to try to understand a word. The music was far too loud for proper conversations to be held, but the other didn't seem to mind too much.

Sadly, no one dared getting close enough to the massive speaker to turn down the volume out of respect for their ears, so you most likely would have to endure it until the batteries were empty. For exactly the same reason, you only found out Childe was approaching you when he was already in front of you, taking a sip from his bottle of spring water before wiping his mouth and shooting you a grin.

"Hey, Y/N!" he shouted, and you weren't surprised at all that this guy was loud enough to be audible over the noise that blasted over the lot.

"Yo!" you greeted back, almost yelling on top of your lungs. God, maybe this was one of the few things about this whole street racing thing that slightly irritated you.

"Did you see Kaeya's face when he lost by such a long shot?" your best friend asked loudly, grinning in satisfaction. "Not only does that dude race under his real name, but he also showed up thinking he could beat me? Man, what an amateur. I could see his ego shriveling."

Typical Childe, you thought. This guy loved to chase the ecstatic feeling of victory – it was safe to say he was low-key obsessed with it. He felt powerful behind the wheel of his souped-up car, but that wasn't for nothing. He was one of the top names in the scene, after all.

Tartaglia, widely known in the scene for having the longest streak of victories without any losses between the races he won.

You opened your mouth to friendly remind him of how massive his own ego was, but the volume of the music lowered until it shut off completely, and everyone turned to the one who had bravely conquered the decibels.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," Keqing scoffed, pulling the canvas over the back of the pickup to cover the speaker. "Newcomer incoming, we have to welcome them with a bit of respect."

It was then that you noticed an unfamiliar car entering the lot, and you followed the vehicle curiously. It was obviously an older car, rusty and damaged, the black varnish tattered and full of dents and scratches. It was in such a bad shape that you were surprised the lights and tinted window were still intact. You had seen a lot of cars in your time here, but this had to be the most miserable of all.

"Respect?" Childe snorted, obviously trying not to burst out in laughter as he looked at the car of the newcomer. "I'm sorry, but have you seen the cadaver they drive?"

"You started racing in a Chevrolet you saved from the junkyard," the girl reminded him. "It missed a mirror, two windows, and the engine was more dead than alive."

As the car came to a halt in the bright center of the spotlights, people abandoned their previous activities and drew closer to the car, not wanting to miss anything of what was about to happen. There was no denying; you were just as curious as they were.

Everything about the vehicle seemed to rattle when the door on the driver's side opened, and you were about to agree with the doubts Childe had regarding this person, until they got out of the car and made your breath halt for a moment.

Worn-out white sneakers, black loose cargo pants and a black hoodie were the clothes that adorned the mysterious person, making him look like the first and best regular street racer who opted for comfort behind the wheel, but oh, his face. Delicate features on a pale face were framed by messy raven hair with streaks of vivid teal, and amber eyes so pretty regarded his surroundings quietly.

"I'm looking for Tartaglia," he stated, his rough yet somewhat quiet voice having a light rasp.

"You found me," Childe spoke up, arching his brow questioningly. He separated himself from the crowd and stepped forward to face the new guy. "Who are you and what do you want from me?"

"I'm Alatus," the male with golden eyes replied, his unwavering gaze on your best friend. "And I'm challenging you."

Surprise surged over the crowd like a wave in the wind in a mixture of quiet whispers and utter silence. This was something that rarely ever happened, so rarely that you had never seen it before. The races for today had been ridden long ago, the engines had cooled down and the alcohol flowed generously, and now there suddenly was a stranger specifically looking for Childe to challenge him? Of course everyone was taken by surprise.

"Alatus?" Childe echoed, but he rapidly dismissed his interest with a shrug of his shoulders. "Never heard of you, so you must be either a newbie or a racer so terrible that no one bothers to remember your alias. Easy victory, are you sure you're on?"

"Underestimate me all you want," Alatus replied calmly, expression unreadable. He seemed not the slightest bit affected by the overly cocky demeanor of your friend, and again you wondered, just who was this guy?

You caught yourself having a small gleam of hope that maybe this newcomer was able to put the confident racer back in his place for once. Though you felt kind of bad for thinking that way, you were also borderline fed up with his massive ego, especially when it made him act like an asshole – like now.

"Hah, if you accept your upcoming defeat, I guess I'll race you," Childe replied with a grin, and you rolled your eyes exasperatedly.

Your best friend was a nice and funny guy by day, with a boyish smile and a caring nature that you expected to find in a guy with multiple younger siblings. But as the night fell, so did his friendly demeanor. When the smell of gasoline in the air woke up Tartaglia, he truly acted like a dick sometimes, spurred on by his massive ego.

They were literally one and the same person, Tartaglia being merely an alias to protect his real identity, but apparently an alias wasn't enough and Childe felt the urge to enhance his race persona with a dose of assholery.

"I'll get the flags," Keqing announced, and she walked off to another pickup truck that stored the flags among a few other supplies related to racing and emergency car repair.

"Cool, a surprise race," someone in the surrounding crowd commented, eliciting some agreeing hums from the others.

Childe had literally just stopped boasting about his victories of tonight, much to your relief, and you probably wouldn't hear the end of it if he won another one. Though the excitement towards the sudden challenge was contagious, you definitely weren't looking forward to another round of your friend's massive ego.

"Well, wish me luck, Y/N!" your best friend grinned, handing you his uncapped bottle of water.

"Not like you'll need it," you mumbled, peeling the cap from his hand and screwing it back onto the bottle.

"You're right," he admitted, his smile unwavering. "But being behind the wheel feels better when you give me your well wishes in advance."

"Right, good luck, Tartaglia," you told him, giving him a thumbs-up. "You got this, like you always do."

He seemed satisfied, turning around and taking the car keys from his pocket. Alatus was waiting patiently, and the crowd was buzzing with excitement. Childe twirled the keys around his index finger playfully as he walked away, his entire demeanor oozing with confidence. It annoyed you a bit, and once again you felt bad for the slight spark of hope that the Alatus guy would put him in his place.

"We have to make it quick, Beidou just texted me that Ningguang's squad will head out at two am," Keqing announced, her face illuminated by the rectangular display of her phone before she shut it off.

"Quick? I wonder if that guy's car can do that," you heard Childe say in the distance. You heaved out a sigh, suddenly not feeling all that bad about your thoughts anymore.

Alatus either missed his remark or he swiftly ignored it, but his expression remained the same. His amber eyes followed Childe's every movement from where he stood against his car. He didn't seem nervous at all, looking calm and composed. It made you wonder, who was he? Over time you grew quite familiar with names in the illegal racing scene, but Alatus didn't ring a bell. Yet he stood there so collected, while he was up against one of the big shots in the area.

"This is gonna be interesting," a new voice appeared next to you, and you turned around to find a familiar mop of pale blue hair.

The Exorcist, which was the alias of Chongyun, stood next to you. A lot of things about this boy were a mystery to you, but the biggest question mark for you was how he managed to wind up in the street racing scene before he even reached the legal age for a driver's license. He was just there, with quite a well-known name in the scene, and no one ever questioned it.

"Hi, Chongyun," you greeted him. "You know this guy?"

"I raced him once, a short while ago in a different area," the boy nodded. "It may not look like it, but his car is fast. Pretty much an underdog."

"Did he win?" you asked.

"With ease," came the reply.

You let your gaze wander to the newcomer, who just got into his car to navigate to the starting position a little down the road along the parking lot. Though Chongyun wasn't one of the top racers, he still had a lot of victories to his name. So Alatus really was someone who had to be reckoned with, huh? The more you learned about him, the more the spark of interest grew.

The two cars drove off together, disappearing from your view as they got in position to start. From where you were standing it was impossible to see what was going on over there, but you heard an engine revving obnoxiously and you knew it was Childe showing off. Red solo cups filled with cheap beer mixed with water were handed around, people in the crowd were making bets on who would win this surprise race – it surprised you how many dared to place their money on Alatus.

In the distance, Keqing would wave the large checkered flag any moment, signaling the start of the race and sending the cars to speed off like torpedoes. Everyone was excited, awaiting the race with much anticipation.

And then the two engines roared to life further down the road, and a symphony of cheers pulled through the crowd. You kept your gaze on the road, eager to see the first pair of headlights appear in your vision. Your heart was beating rapidly, spurred on by the excitement of everyone around you.

Then it all happened really fast; the sound of engines drew closer, a set of headlights painted the road in a sharp white and the streetlights aided you in your realization that it wasn't Childe who approached the finish line first. But then the tires started screeching, your heart leaped when the car spun out of control. Under its velocity, it swayed over the asphalt without a sense of direction before making a final sharp turn. The crowd let out a collective gasp – and some even screamed in shock – when the old black car came to an abrupt stop against a tree with a metallic thud, allowing Childe to drive past it without slowing down.

Your best friend sped over the finish line, but no one cheered for him. Everyone silently kept their eyes on the car against the tree, holding their breaths. Next to you, Chongyun let out a curse. No one moved, they simply remained idle, frozen on spot. Why was nobody running to check on the crashed racer? It was you who abandoned their petrified state first, breaking into a sprint as you left the parking lot behind as you entered the road.

Nervously, you approached the black car, scared of what you would find once you got there. Was Alatus okay? What if he was injured? Why didn't Childe stop when he crashed? Winning was the most important thing in street racing, but it was common decency to hit the brakes when your opponent got in trouble. The streetlights caught the faint trails of smoke that came from under the hood of the car, and you came to a halt next to the driver's door.

The car looked even worse than before now, with a huge dent in the bumper, the right headlight shattered to merely shards, and the varnish even more tarnished.

But the door creaked open, and Alatus swung out his leg in order to get up and out of his car. He grunted, and you scanned his face and body worriedly.

"Are you okay?" you asked, reaching out to help the male.

He swatted your hand away, looking at you with his amber eyes narrowed. There were multiple scratches on his face, and he limped slightly when he moved to the hood of his car.

"I'm fine," he coughed, wiping his sleeve across his mouth to sweep away a bit of blood. "You're friends with Tartaglia, right? Go cheer for him at the finish line."

His tone was cold and rough, as was the way he looked at you. You were a little taken aback by his demeanor, rubbing the back of your hand after he slapped it away, but at least he seemed fine enough. He averted his gaze, opening the hood of his car to check on the engine.

"That I'm friends with him doesn't automatically mean that I condone of whatever the fuck he just did," you reasoned. "He should've stopped as soon as you crashed but his ego is too big to realize such things."

Alatus glanced at you again, and the coldness in his eyes had softened a bit this time. His hands skillfully went over the parts that rested under the hood, and he heaved out a sigh in relief.

"It seems that I can still drive home in this thing," he concluded. "Really, I'm okay, just a little shaken. Thanks for checking on me."

Though he sounded a lot less snarky this time, it was still clear to you that this conversation was over. There was something in his voice that made it final. So you nodded and made your way to the finish line, where everyone was silent.

"Y/N, why did you go to him?" Childe greeted you, a frown present on his features. "Why didn't you come to me to celebrate my victory?"

"Because no one else went to check on him," you replied, mentally rolling your eyes because that could hardly be regarded as a victory. "Did you really just keep driving when Alatus crashed?"

"I mean…" the ginger-haired male began, but from the look on his face you could tell he realized his fault. It was an unspoken rule among street racers; hit the brakes when your opponent crashes. It was a matter of respect, and it seemed Childe's ego was too big to leave room for any of that.

"That wasn't even a victory," someone in the crowd snorted. "Alatus was ahead of you until the crash. He would've won."

Your best friend shot a glare towards the guy who spoke up, but you agreed. In fact, it had been on your mind as well, and you were glad someone else told him.

"What did you say?" Childe asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You heard me," the guy challenged.

"Just a head's up, Ningguang is going to head out in a few, we should clear out the lot," Keqing spoke up, and the tension between the two dissolved because they had a different problem to deal with now.

You gave one last glance towards Alatus, who finally drove away from the tree slowly. You were happy to see his car running. He would be able to get home safely. Then you mingled with the crowd, helping the others to clean up everything as quickly as possible. There was absolutely nothing legal about what you were doing and one mistake could lead to an encounter with the police, which could lead to serious trouble and even jeopardize the entire community. Drunk or not, clear out was a command understood and taken seriously by everyone, and executed in record speed.

Some people dashed off to pick up the trash and dump it in a rubbish bag, others took the responsibility of dragging their wasted friends into the passenger seats of random cars – everyone knew everyone here, so it was practically guaranteed that everyone would end up at the right house anyway. The old pickup truck drove off first, and as soon as the evacuation was finished, the race cars with their owners and a ton of passengers followed too. The lot was empty.

You climbed into the passenger's seat of Childe's car, and the entire ride to your apartment you had to listen to his complaints about Alatus. It was tiring, to say the least, and with the clock striking two in the morning, you found yourself dozing off a little. Your surroundings passed by in a blur of darkness as you raced over the roads that brought you back to the city all of you lived in. Bright streetlights blinded you every time you drove past one, but the cadence of light and dark slowly calmed the adrenaline in your body and lulled you into a tired daze. The wild nights you spent at the deserted lot made you feel like you were immune to tiredness, but it always came in hard as soon as you returned home.

With a big yawn, you said goodbye to your best friend and went inside. It wasn't much of a surprise that Alatus was on your mind until you finally fell asleep.

✧

The mysterious Alatus was the main topic of conversation in the days following the sudden race. Childe was either boasting about his so-called victory or fuming because he managed to get ahead of him. Keqing was gushing over the guy's swift acceleration upon the start sign, impressed by the abilities of his rusty car. Chongyun reminiscensed about the day he raced him, dubbing Alatus as a skillful racer. Xingqiu was listening to all the stories eagerly because he just so happened to miss that night. You didn't mind all that much; the mysterious racer with beautiful golden eyes intrigued you and you eagerly took any opportunity to talk about him.

But you didn't tell your friends about your sudden infatuation. Childe wouldn't let you hear the end of it and Xingqiu would make sure that the entire racing scene would know of it. No, it was better to be kept a secret only you knew about.

You had to make sure you wouldn't be too obvious about it, though. Especially Chongyun and Xingqiu were pretty sharp and you had to make sure not to look too eager when Alatus' name was mentioned.

Today you did a good job. You just left Childe's home, where all of you had gathered together to simply hang out. It went by like a usual night, where you discussed the latest developments and a fair share of gossip in the scene. Xingqiu had a lot of intel on other opponents, and everyone else practically followed the given lines of conversation. Childe had finally stopped slandering the mysterious street racer, so his name – or alias – wasn't mentioned all that much. You were safe.

That was a good thing about tonight. A big downside was the rain that dripped from the sky, and the lack of an umbrella or proper raincoat. The weather forecast said nothing about this sudden downpour, and it really took you by surprise when you were on your way back home. You stomped over the sidewalk, annoyed with the change of weather. As soon as you got home, you would take a shower and get under a blanket.

You were so caught up in your mental string of complaints that you failed to notice the car that pulled up next to you. Only when the driver ran his knuckles against the tinted window, you looked up. Recognition flooded your mind upon seeing the rusty black vehicle, and your heart skipped a beat. The ugly dent in the bumper was pretty prominent, but the right headlight was fixed after the crash a few days prior.

The tinted window rolled down, and a pair of familiar golden eyes took in your soaked state. You felt a little ashamed; you literally looked like a drowned cat, with wet strands of hair sticking to your forehead and droplets falling off your clothes.

"Need a ride?" Alatus asked with his rough voice.

"Alatus?" you asked, as if you couldn't believe that he was really there, offering you a ride to escape from the dreary rain that fell from the pitch black sky.

"Yeah," came the reply, and it didn't look like he was going to say anything more than that.

You hesitated for a moment, struggling to comprehend the situation properly. But you didn't have to think twice about his offer, pushing aside the fact that a whole swarm of butterflies stirred in your stomach and nodding fervently. Alatus made a gesture with his head, motioning for you to walk around his car towards the passenger's seat.

Rigid with awkwardness, you obliged. You were terrified to soak and ruin the leather interior when you sat down, because contrary to the outside, the inside looked very neat – expensive even.

"Um, thanks," you mumbled, watching how wet trails of raindrops drizzled down the windows.

"Don't mention it," Alatus replied. "I owe you."

He was probably referring to the way you rushed to his side after he crashed against a tree. You didn't necessarily think the male owes you at all; you hardly did anything aside from checking on him, but it seemed that he was grateful enough to feel the need to do something in return. You were evenly grateful. You didn't have to walk through the rain any longer and on top of that, you were in the car with the beautiful and mysterious street racer. Though it flustered you, you were also happy to be there. Initially, he hadn't been the nicest to you and this was the proof you needed that he didn't hate you or something like that.

"Where do you live?" the racer asked, giving you a sideway glance – and you took a moment to admire how his raven hair framed his pale face prettily.

Focus, Y/N, you told yourself.

You began to give directions and he followed quietly. A lot of silences fell between the two of you, and it was pretty awkward in the car. But what else did you expect from Alatus? He didn't seem like the talkative type. You simply remained silent as well, aside from telling him whether to turn left or right, not feeling like forcing a conversation out of him. With the slight frown that often rested on his brows, he looked as if he would genuinely kick you out of his car as soon as he deemed you a nuisance. You didn't know him well enough so you just took the worst-case-scenario in mind. Yeah, staying silent and careful was the best option, at least until you got to know him a little better.

Would you even get to know him better? Maybe this was all a one-time thing, and he would disappear from the scene just as swiftly as he made his appearance. A massive part of you hoped he would stick around, because you had seen it; this guy was someone with the skills to teach Childe a lesson.

"I have two questions," the male suddenly spoke up, tearing his eyes away from the road to glance at you for a moment. Then he averted his gaze again, but you saw the faint hint of curiosity in his amber eyes.

"Shoot," you replied.

"What's your name?" came the first question.

You blinked. You weren't expecting that. Alatus was interested in your name? Where did that suddenly come from? Your mind instantly went haywire. Did he maybe share the infatuation you felt towards him? Nah, that was silly to think. Did he maybe have ulterior motives? But then again, what would he gain from spreading your name? You weren't a street racer, you didn't need the protection of an alias nor did you have to keep your name a secret. You were simply overthinking things, but that came naturally when you were caught up in an illegal scene.

"What do you want my name for?" you asked.

The racer didn't reply, and for a moment it was merely the sound of the rain pitter-pattering on the roof accompanied by the steady hum of the engine – that was significantly louder than usual cars, much like Childe's car. Alatus' fingers mindlessly thrummed a rhythm on the steering wheel as he waited for the overhead traffic light to turn green.

"Just interested," he admitted dismissively.

You nodded, forcing your train of thoughts to calm down. You wondered what he meant by just interested, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't answer if you were to ask him. Regardless, it brought a faint blush to your cheeks, for he spoke those words so casually and your mind still dared to entertain the thought of a mutual infatuation.

"I'm Y/N," you told him after a brief silence. It wouldn't hurt to tell him, right?

"Alright, Y/N," Alatus said, and you loved the way he spoke your name. "My second question is more of a request." The male navigated his car into the street you lived in, coming to a halt in front of your apartment building.

"Go on, I'm listening," you urged him.

"I want you to pass on a message to Tartaglia, since you seem to be close to him," he began, looking at you expectantly. "Tell him I want a rematch."

You weren't at all surprised by his words. The race between Alatus and Tartaglia ended in the most unfair way possible, and you too were convinced that Alatus would've won if it weren't for the crash. The raven-haired male was probably aware of his lurking victory as well, so of course he wanted to try his luck again. You felt a surge of excitement, and a grin emerged on your face.

"I'll tell him," you promised, your hand resting on the door handle. "Thanks again for the ride home, Alatus. See you soon, then."

You pushed open the door and stepped outside into the downpour. You heard Alatus hum in reply before the car door closed, and then you took a sprint to your apartment building. You were still soaked from your previous walk through the rain so the few drops you caught didn't bother you all that much and the smile remained on your face. The outlook of Alatus coming to visit the lot again for a rematch gave you a hint of excitement, and you couldn't wait to pass on the message to your best friend.

✧

"I still can't believe he challenged me for a rematch," Childe stated, his eyes solely on the road ahead of him. "He really is that full of himself, huh? Thinking he can beat me."

The trees standing alongside the dull black asphalt passed by in a blur, and you stared at them mindlessly as your best friend drove you and the others to the abandoned lot a little out of town. Tonight it was going to happen, the heavily anticipated rematch between the great Tartaglia and the mysterious Alatus. Dusk was falling, the sky was darkening rapidly, but instead of tiredness you felt a buzz of excitement. Yet, as soon as Childe started to complain about Alatus again, you zoned out and chose to lean against the window of the passenger's side, making it clear that you weren't listening at all. Keqing, Xingqiu and Chongyun were squished together on the backseat of the car, because no one wanted to miss this rematch.

"I think you're the one who's full of yourself," Chongyun pointed out. "It was clear who was ahead of the other and he would've won by a great length if it wasn't for the unfortunate crash."

"Hey, whose side are you on?" your best friend questioned, and you saw the offense that ghosted over his features through the rear mirror.

"I'm simply looking at it from an objective point of view," the blue-haired boy reasoned. "All I'm saying is that he's a tough opponent. Don't get ahead of yourself."

Childe huffed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. You weren't sure what was going on inside his head. Was he annoyed by how his friends didn't react in the way he wanted? Was he nervous for the race he had to ride tonight? Maybe both things pestered his mind. Whatever it was, it was clear that something was bothering him. His knuckles turned white from the pressure he put into his grip, and his jaw tensed.

There wasn't much else to say. Everyone had seen how Alatus' car was faster, Keqing had witnessed first-hand how swiftly he accelerated from zero to full speed. Chongyun had raced him before and knew of the mysterious racer's skill – and he was humble enough to recognize his talent instead of dismissing it as if it were nothing. Xingqiu had scoured the scene for as many rumors and information as he could, and though he had to dig a little deeper for this unknown underdog, the stories he found told of a formidable racer. To put it simple, it wasn't looking too good for Tartaglia, and everyone except for the man himself knew it. His big ego still made him think he was the best of the best, that he was invincible no matter which opponent struck him.

"I'll show him who's the boss here," Childe grumbled.

He pulled up on the abandoned dirt lot, and the amount of people gathered there made your mouth fall open in surprise. Usually a few dozen people showed up for the regular street races, but it was as if the announcement for today's rematch pulled people in like a magnet. There were too many heads to count, but you were certain the crowd would effortlessly hit a hundred. It was insane.

Music greeted you as soon as you got out of the passenger's seat, and you barely heard the metallic thud as you closed the door over the loud techno that blasted from the speakers set up in the back of the old rusty pick-up truck. The others followed suit, and everyone but Childe – who remained in his car – gathered around you.

"Yo, Y/N, wanna make a bet?" Xingqiu shouted over the music. He wore a sly smile on his face, and you knew he wouldn't place his money on your best friend but on his opponent instead.

"You're putting your money on Alatus, aren't you?" you shouted back.

"Of course," Xingqiu grinned. "If you look at all the facts, Childe doesn't stand much of a chance."

That was true. You were almost fully convinced that his massive ego would shrivel after tonight's race, but it was all up to Alatus. Mind you, you dearly loved Childe as your best friend, but his ego could use a little trim.

"Did Alatus state any conditions when he asked for the rematch?" Keqing asked you, and she struggled to remain audible over the loud music.

You shook your head instead of using your voice to reply.

Sometimes, rematches – or any direct challenges at all – came with crazy conditions. It wasn't unusual for two racers to put their car at stake in a challenge, where the victorious one won the car of the loser. That was merely one example of a set condition. Knowing Childe, he would've accepted the challenge regardless of the conditions, even if his car was at stake. But he would go berserk if he were to lose his beloved car, so you were glad Alatus simply requested a plain race.

"So just a clean race?" Keqing mused, and you nodded.

"Yeah, nothing to lose," you confirmed.

"Except for his ego," Xingqiu added, to which everyone agreed.

It was as if the entire street race community in the vicinity of Liyue heard about the match between the speed veteran Tartaglia and Alatus, the underdog whose name was spreading rapidly after the last race. The dirt lot miles away from the city was more crowded than it had ever been before, and even the unstable bleachers were crammed from the bottom to the top to the point where you were kind of waiting for the rusty structure to give in and collapse.

The people were hyped for the big event they anticipated. Childe got out of his car, visibly nervous as he joined you and your friends. Alatus was nowhere to be found even though it was already past the time the races were usually held.

"Hah, looks like the dude decided to chicken out last minute," the racer scoffed, leaning against the door of his car nonchalantly in an attempt to look calm and collected.

"I think he's aiming to show up intimidatingly late," Xingqiu suggested, grinning as if he had just come up with the most brilliant phenomenon ever. "You know, arriving late on purpose to show your opponent that you literally don't give two shits about them and you're only there to claim victory."

"You just made that up, didn't you?" Chongyun questioned, and his best friend grinned smugly.

"Doesn't make it any less valid."

You were also nervous, though it was for an entirely different reason than Childe. There was no sign of Alatus so far, and with every minute that passed, the ginger-haired racer grew more confident.

"If he doesn't show up in ten minutes, he's the loser and I'm the winner," he declared, forcing a grin. "Not that it would make a difference, though. It would end up that way regardless."

Minutes went by agonizingly slow, until an hour had passed. The excited audience slowly gave up the expectation of a legendary race and opted for getting wasted and throwing a party instead. Yet, you could feel the disappointment in the air and honestly, you felt it too. After all, it was a race that was quite anticipated and of course, you had hoped to see Alatus again.

"Just what I thought," Childe concluded, pushing himself away from his car. "What a sore loser. Doesn't even have the balls to show up and ride the match he challenged me to? Almost everyone came to watch and that little shit bails on us?"

"Hate to break it to you, Tartaglia, but all I did was take a little mandatory detour," a rough voice called out from behind you, and you whipped around so fast that it dizzied you for a second.

A pair of amber eyes glared at Childe icily, and your heart skipped a beat. So he still decided to show up, huh? It surprised you how happy you were. Once again, you found yourself gawking at how pretty the guy was, with his delicate features and streaks of teal in his messy raven hair. His pretty eyes narrowed as the newcomer folded his arms in front of his chest and scoffed.

"Unless you would have preferred me to lead the police car that tailed me straight to your little playground."

"Damn, how considerate of you," your best friend gasped, feigning surprise but sending the racer a nasty glare in return.

You tore your gaze away from Alatus and quietly exchanged a look with the others. You didn't expect this amount of tension to rest between these two, but at the same time it made so much sense. Alatus had all the reasons to despise Tartaglia, and your best friend simply hated anyone who opposed a threat to his streak of victories. Sparks were flying in all the wrong directions.

"Save your crap," the other spat. "I only did it because I would have gotten in just as much trouble if they found out I was heading here with a car that's obviously enhanced for street races."

The entire crowd had their eyes on the two racers by now. They were dead silent, and even the music died down when the selected playlist reached its end. It was utterly quiet to the point where you could hear a pin drop, and Childe and Alatus only glared at each other in the middle of a pit illuminated by the bright floodlights. It looked so staged, like a confrontation between the hero and the villain in those movies, except that it wasn't staged in the slightest. The tension was real, and you could feel it along with everyone else on the dirt lot.

"Alright, I'm off to get the flags," Keqing announced, being the first one brave enough to break the silence. She waved, walking off with a quick "good luck!"

Yeah, good luck was definitely needed, though you weren't sure who needed it the most right now.

"Okay, no one's gonna win if you keep snarling at each other like a bunch of street cats," you sighed, deciding to take the initiative since no one else was going to step in. You pushed Childe's car keys into his hands and patted his shoulder. "Get your cars to the start line and settle this."

Alatus' gaze landed on you and you froze, the confidence you had just spoken with diminishing rapidly. His amber eyes smoldered with something you couldn't quite decipher, and the faint blush on your cheeks grew with every second that it lasted. He seemed to be thinking, and you wondered what was going on inside his mind as he kept looking at you. Then he broke off the eye contact, turning to face Tartaglia.

"Maybe I do have a condition," he spoke, a slight edge to his voice.

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" Childe inquired, quirking a brow. "But sure, go ahead."

Everyone waited in silence, and you shifted awkwardly when Alatus' eyes fell upon you for a split second. The moment dragged out for long seconds, and you felt the tension in the air. Even your best friend looked a bit worried, now that a sudden request for a last minute condition arose.

"If I win..." Alatus started, articulating every word clearly. "...I want a date with your friend."

Your heart stilled for a moment, and your eyes widened in shock. He had to be talking about someone else, right? Childe had various friends here. It couldn't be you, there was no way he got his eyes on you, out of all the people present on the lot. Yet, he was looking straight at you, his gaze unwavering. It slowly dawned upon you; Alatus really was talking about you. You were his condition for this race, and if he won he would take you on a date. The mysterious street racer you grew strongly infatuated with seemed to share that feeling. Influenced by the sheer surprise, your heart set a drum beat rhythm in your ribcage.

Childe looked evenly startled, his eyes flitting between you and Alatus. Disbelief was written all over his features, as if he was struggling to comprehend the fact that his opponent genuinely asked that. His enemy, on a date with his best friend? He also looked confused, as if he had missed something big – which was true.

"Uhm," Childe began, still taken aback by Alatus' proposal. "Y/N, do you want that?"

And suddenly all eyes were on you. It was dead silent, everyone was holding their breath in anticipation after this sudden turn of events. And you simply stood there, your heart beating rapidly now that you were put on the spot like that. You hated being in the spotlights, and now they expected you to answer a question like that. What were you supposed to do or say? You remained silent, and thought about it to the best of your abilities. A date with Alatus, the enemy of your best friend, the guy that caught your interest immediately when he got out of his car.

Only a fool would decline that offer.

"Yeah," you simply replied.

The crowd erupted in a rambunctious noise; there were whistles and catcalls, people were howling and hooting and suddenly there was a round of applause. Following that very moment, you and Alatus refused to look at each other. You deliberately didn't look at Childe either, for he was probably beyond confused, so you stared at your feet instead.

"Well then," your best friend breathed out. "Not like you'll win this race, anyway."

He walked off, and you heard the rustle of car keys in his hand. A car door opened and slammed shut, and you finally dared to look up. Alatus also carried the keys to his car in his hand, twirling them around his finger as he caught your gaze.

"Alright, Y/N," Alatus said, looking straight at you. "This race is for you."

He pursed his lips, turning around and heading towards his own car. The ruckus from the crowd finally died down, and you could feel the familiar buzz in the air. A race was about to begin, and everyone knew it wasn't just a race. Alatus had the potential to beat Tartaglia, and you felt a spark of hope. If he won, Childe's ego would tone down a little and he would take you on a date. Part of you felt like you were committing treason towards your best friend, but you couldn't help but hope for the underdog to win. The tension in the air was palpable, and it felt like there was a lot at stake.

Everyone gathered around the finish line as the cars took off towards the starting position, and you mingled with the crowd. Everyone let you pass through, until you stood at the very front. You had a perfect view, and your heart was hammering nervously. People around you placed bets, but you only heard Alatus' name echoing around. Red solo cups were handed out and you politely declined every offer. You weren't a big fan of drinking to begin with, and on top of that, you wanted to experience this event fully sober. After all, Alatus dedicated this race to you.

"I think you owe us an explanation, Y/N," Xingqiu piped up next to you. "I feel like we missed something big."

"I myself barely know what's going on," you replied.

And that was true. You checked up on him after his crash and he offered you a ride home through a sudden rainstorm. You were even, right? But apparently that wasn't enough. Somewhere along the way, a spark seemed to have ignited, slowly pulling you towards each other with its light.

"Whatever it is, seems like Tartaglia's enemy is into you," the blue-haired boy concluded, grinning. "I smell tea brewing."

And that was as far as the conversation went, because in the distance, the two engines revved loudly as they rumbled to life. A burst of nervous butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you cheered along with the crowd. Your loyalty was being tested, but in the end you had various reasons to root for Alatus. You stood with your feet riveted to the dirt along the road, rigid with expectation. You didn't cheer for the underdog out loud, but as the roar of the engines drew closer you secretly had your fingers crossed behind your back.

It was a matter of merely seconds, but it felt like an eternity before two pairs of headlights finally appeared in the distance. Everyone was hooting and chanting the name of their favorite racer on top of their lungs at this point, but you had fallen silent in anticipation. It was a neck-to-neck race, but the rusty black car was in the lead. Tartaglia wasn't going to give in just like that, and he swayed over the road as he threatened to hit the side of Alatus' car to possibly send him off-track. Your best friend was resorting to foul play and you hated to see it.

But Alatus remained unfazed and unscratched, and the engine growled as he pushed his car far past the speed limit. It didn't take long for the distance between the two cars to grow wider and the mysterious racer flew ahead of Tartaglia seemingly with ease.

The crowd burst into an explosive round of cheers as Alatus crossed the finish line first, the wind awakened under his sheer velocity rustling your hair. The engine of his car revved loudly as he grabbed his victory, and you pumped your fist into the air excitedly. He did it! The unknown underdog managed to beat Childe!

Tartaglia came in second, and the tinted windows made it impossible to see his reaction but you could perfectly imagine him hitting his steering wheel in frustration. The blue and purple underglow ghosted over the asphalt as he slowly drew to a halt.

Alatus got out of his car and so did Childe, and the crowd fell utterly silent. No one knew what was going to happen between the two racers, and the tension instantly skyrocketed as they approached each other.

But much to everyone's surprise, the ginger-haired racer extended his hand towards the other, a grin finding its way to his features.

"So the stories are true, hm? You are a formidable racer." He shook Alatus' hand, and the gesture looked nothing short of amicable. "Take good care of Y/N, or I'll know where to find you."

Xingqiu, who still stood next to you, gave you a little push on your back and you stumbled forward, to the guys who just ended their little moment of conciliation and now looked at you.

"I will, don't worry," Alatus spoke earnestly.

He held out his hand for you to take, and your confidence grew with every step you took towards him. You were blushing profusely, but you placed your hand in his without hesitation. You gave Childe a look, and your best friend flashed you a thumbs-up and a smile. What a sudden change of mind that was, but at least you knew that your best friend was okay with this all. You felt a wave of relief, now that you could fully enjoy the way Alatus' fingers folded over your knuckles.

"Congratulations," you beamed at him, and the faint smile you got in return made your heart skip a beat.

"Unfortunately, I have to go now," he told you, leaning a little closer to your ear. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at six. You can call me Xiao the next time you see me."

And then he walked off, approaching his tattered car and getting into the driver's seat. He honked twice and then he drove off, escorted by the festive cheers of the audience. You looked at the car in awe as it shrunk in the distance. Xiao, huh? A pretty name that matched his pretty face all too well.

Despite the absence of the big star of tonight, a big afterparty was thrown but you still went home pretty early. Despite his good mood, Childe didn't feel like celebrating his loss. During the car ride home, your friends basically interrogated you about Alatus and what was going on, and they demanded answers.

You were smiling like a fool the entire way.

✧

Not many words were exchanged during the car drive through the more lively parts of town. In fact, it was rather awkward, but what else was there to expect? Alatus – or Xiao, but you were still getting used to his real name – wasn't much of a talker and neither were you, so it was a given that conversations wouldn't flow freely. You simply decided to enjoy his presence. Words would come at some point; hopefully the idea he had in mind would serve as enough of an ice breaker.

He looked good today, even though it didn't seem like he put much effort into his appearance. A black hoodie that seemed to be a tad too big on him hugged his torso, intricate patterns of turquoise embellishing the sleeves. He had paired it with black skinny jeans, a pair of fingerless black gloves and black converse sneakers. His raven hair was as messy as ever, the strands of teal vivid against his monochrome color palette. His amber eyes occasionally stole a glance at you through the rear mirror, and every time your eyes met made your heart skip a beat. Xiao looked effortlessly handsome tonight.

"Where are we going?" you questioned curiously as you ventured into a part of town you were unfamiliar with.

"You'll see," Xiao replied, giving you another brief glance before his eyes pulled towards the road again. "We are almost there."

You weren't surprised, even though it has hardly been ten minutes since you drove away from the parking lot near your apartment building. The street racer was obviously struggling to sustain the speed limit. With his souped-up car, he was so used to speeding over the asphalt that it was almost alien to him to drive like a normal civilian. You were pretty much used to such behavior since you've already spent hours in the passenger's seat of Childe's car, so it merely made you laugh. It was as if he constantly had to remind himself to tone it down a little, using his feet to push the brake pedal over and over again every time he caught himself driving too fast. It was a street racer's thing.

"This is making me curious," you told the male, who hummed in reply.

"Good thing we have arrived, then," Xiao said, pulling up in a fairly empty parking lot.

You glanced around eagerly, taking in the serenity that hung over the asphalt lot. In the distance you could hear the city noises, but here it was pretty quiet. You weren't at all surprised, of course the male took you to a quieter part of town. A date in the bustling center of the city simply didn't suit him. Your eyes fell upon the building parallel to the parking area, tucked in between two larger buildings. A flashing neon sign spread out above the double door made of glass, telling you in a variety of colors that the Yanshang Diner welcomed you.

"A diner," you concluded, a smile crossing your features.

"Yeah," the racer replied, looking pleased with your reaction.

He gently urged you to start walking, leaving the parking lot behind as you approached the diner. The interior was partially hidden from view by matte foil that covered the lower half of the wide windows, but you could already see a myriad of colors inside and a hint of joy surged through your being. You couldn't wait to go inside.

Xiao opened the door for you, stepping aside so you could enter. A small bell rang as you entered, and the male stepped inside right after you, gingerly closing the glass door. You abruptly came to a halt, simply to admire the interior of the diner. It was a lot to take in, but you already loved the place.

Underneath your feet went a black-and-white checkered floor that stretched out all across the restaurant, reminding you so much of the race flags you saw on a daily basis. Multiple booths were lined up against the wall, with turquoise leather seats and shiny black tables that held several tubes of sauce and a menu on top of them. Tall stools with the same turquoise leather as the other seats stood lined up against the long bar, and only a few of them were occupied. The hot pink walls were covered in various items, like colorful posters of old retro cars and other things that fit the racing theme. The place was illuminated by neon lights in different colors strung along the wall and simple light spheres dangling from the ceiling. In the corner stood a giant jukebox, bringing out easy jazz tunes that filled the place.

"This is amazing," you brought out, your eyes coming to a halt on Xiao after you had taken your sweet time looking around.

"Yeah, it is," the raven-haired male agreed, meeting your gaze and offering you what seemed like a hint of a smile. "It's been my favorite diner for ages and I've wanted to take you here ever since the moment I first saw you."

"R-Really?" you stuttered, and neither of you dared to look the other in the eyes anymore. Who would have thought that the cool street racer was interested in you just as much as you were in him?

He asked you what you wanted to eat, guiding you to a booth in the far back of the diner before going up to the counter to order food for the both of you – he even insisted on paying, reasoning that he was the one who asked you on a date. You tried to talk him out of it, but he wasn't having any of that. So there you sat, waiting for your food to arrive as you sat opposite of him.

The racer seated across from you was quiet, mindlessly picking on some loose threads on his fingerless gloves. A million questions lingered in your mind, but you held back, for you didn't want to straight up interrogate the male. The conversations between you two were pretty low-key, mostly on the topic of street racing since that was the only shared common interest you knew of. It took some effort to get Xiao to talk, for he wasn't necessarily a big talker, but he seemed to live up a little when he got to talk about his car – which you found adorable. However, when the waiter put two plates filled with pancakes in front of you, you had to stop talking, since you entertained a fairly illegal way of passing time. The conversation didn't pick up again after that.

Something was different about him tonight. It took you a little while to figure out what it was, but as soon as you managed to put your finger on it, you decided that you quite liked this change. All your meetings so far had been with Alatus, the quiet racer with a piercing gaze. Now you had Xiao with you, who lacked a fair share of confidence and was far more timid than his racing persona. He no longer had to put up this cool and edgy facade and you felt honored that he felt at ease with you enough to drop his act and show the real him.

"These pancakes are so good," you gushed after taking a few bites. "Do you often eat these?"

"All the time," Xiao admitted, looking away as mild embarrassment painted his cheeks. It made you smile. Who knew the edgy street racer loved sweet pancakes so much?

The silence that followed allowed some of the previous questions to linger back into your mind again, and you pursed your lips as one question in particular entered your mind. Actually, it was something you had been wondering about ever since last night's race ended, but you weren't sure how to bring it up. But your curiosity got the overhand, and you knew you had to ask him.

"Xiao," you began, still getting used to the way his real name rolled off your tongue. "I have something to ask you."

The male's fork froze mid-air, a piece of pancake still on it as he tilted his head.

"Go on."

You took a breath, preparing yourself mentally. This wasn't a simple question, but one that had you slightly nervous for the answer. A blush was already on your cheeks before you even started talking.

"I was just wondering… why was your condition to take me on a date if you won the race?" you asked.

"Isn't that pretty obvious?" Xiao replied, seemingly as flustered as you were now that this particular topic was brought up.

"No, I'm very oblivious," you reasoned.

"Look, I'll say it once," the raven-haired male muttered. "You caught my interest and I wanted to get to know you better. But Tartaglia being around you all the time makes that pretty impossible."

You nodded, another concern popping up in your mind.

"What if you would've lost?"

"I would've raced him until I won," the racer shrugged, still not looking at you as he used his fork to pick at his pancakes.

"Couldn't you just ask me?" you questioned.

"As if I have the guts to do that," Xiao snorted.

An amused smile grew on your face, despite the fact that you both were equally flustered. It made little to no sense to you; he requested to take you on a date in front of nearly the whole local racing community, but asking you in private was too scary. But in the end, he still ended up asking you, and it didn't matter how.

"You participate in risky street races on a daily basis, which is actually dangerous, but you were too scared to ask me on a date?" you lightly joked.

"It sounds pretty weird if you put it like that," Xiao laughed shyly, finally meeting your eyes. The sound truly was like music to your ears; you hoped you could make him laugh more often.

You liked this side of him. He was cute, timidly enjoying his pancakes while slowly opening up a little. Though he was cool and intimidating out on the streets, not much of that facade was left when you saw him like this. It was Alatus who picked your interest, but you found yourself liking Xiao just as much – or maybe even more. His amber eyes made you feel fuzzy on the inside, his slightly rough voice turned soft at the edges when he talked to you, and you could tell he was trying his hardest to impress you.

Little did he know he already impressed you that very moment he got out of his car and you laid your eyes upon him for the very first time. He didn't even have to try anymore.

Long after you finished eating, you remained seated in the turquoise booth across from Xiao. You talked ever so quietly, back to the topic of street racing – and his concern whether or not Tartaglia would be okay with it if you went to the dirt lot with him more often.

He wouldn't mind, you reassured him.

Xiao had planned to stick around in the area, Alatus being the new addition to the local racing community. It filled you with excitement, and as much as you were happy to see a new face among the well-known racers of Liyue, what made your mood elated the most was the fact that you couldn't wait to find out what the future had in store for you and the mysterious Xiao.

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