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#it pained me to use such dull colours
candyje11yfish · 3 months
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me if i was EVIL😈😈😈
separately under cut :]
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aria0fgold · 2 months
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Having a pulled muscle by the ribs aint fun actually. Why is there no other treatment other than "rest," I want this sensation gone right now already.
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angelfic · 10 months
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— CALM AFTER THE STORM
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pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.
warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited
author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!
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when he just has to be controversial
The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.
You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.
“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.
Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”
You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”
You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”
“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”
You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.
“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”
You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”
“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.
Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”
“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.
“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”
“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”
The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”
Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”
“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.
“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.
“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  
You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”
“I didn’t throw anything this time!”
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2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye
Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.
You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.
Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.
The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.
“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”
She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.
“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”
Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.
“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.
Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”
“Mr Snape.”
“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”
“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”
You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.
“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”
“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”
Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.
The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.
Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.
“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.
Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”
“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”
“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”
“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”
“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”
“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”
At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”
“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.
“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.
Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”
“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”
Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.
The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.
“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”
He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”
“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”
“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”
It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.
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3. when he's too good for flower crowns.
“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”
“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.
You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.
“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.
Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.
“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”
You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.
“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.
The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.
Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”
You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”
“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”
“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”
Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”
“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”
You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.
“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”
With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.
Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.
Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.
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4. when he bleeds out on you.
You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.
If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.
You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.
“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.
“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”
“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.
“She was behind the sofa!”
James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”
“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”
“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”
He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”
While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.
“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.
You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.
“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.
“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”
“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”
 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”
“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”
Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”
“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”
“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.
Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”
His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”
You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.
You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”
“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t laugh at me then!”
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5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!
Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.
You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.
“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”
“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”
“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”
You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”
“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.
“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”
“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”
“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”
You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”
He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”
“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”
You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.
“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”
“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”
“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”
“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”
“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”
You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.
Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.
“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.
Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”
“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”
“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”
“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”
He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”
“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”
You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.
“See?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”
“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.
“No promises.”
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© angelfic 2023.
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horrorhot-line · 3 months
Text
kairos
(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement.
➵ pairing: love and deepspace x reader
➵ word count: 14.2k
➵ genre: fluff, angst (if you squint?)
➵ warnings: spoilers for the game 'love and deepspace' below.
➵ summary: when you thought you didn't belong all your life, you had no idea it wasn't just in your head. now, you're thrown into a world you couldn't possibly have known was real and have to get used to your new enviroment. easier said than done when you keep running into certain men who make it hard to keep your cool.
➵ masterlist  (requests are open)
The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.
© 2024 horrorhot-line
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notes: to anyone waiting for more saiki k content, i promise it's on the way, there's just a few other things i'm working on so it might take some time, and in the mean time i wanted to practice writing for other characters to sharpen my skills.
to anyone who's new to this blog, hi, i hope you enjoy your stay here, and i hope you like my work, enjoy!
also: thank you to @kagadummis @vanillaschoko9353 @identity-theft-101 for giving me the motivation to write. and a huge thanks to @thecaminator for letting me throw ideas off their head to make sense of what i wanted to do with the series. you were a huge help!
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There was no one moment that you could pinpoint and say was flawed or wrong. When had the world lost its colour? Had you been ignorant all your life and happened to notice one day, and now there was no going back? Did it even matter?
You didn't know when it all started to go wrong, but you were exhausted. The type of tiredness that no amount of sleep could ever cure. Every interaction felt like work. Every moment that you were conscious felt like work. Nothing ever happened, no one ever liked you, and even if something did come to pass- you could never immerse yourself in the feeling completely. 
Chalking it up to, 'Everyone feels this way,' and 'I'm not the only one' only worked for so long. There wasn't really any place you could say you felt you belonged to. You didn't understand how people around you, successful or not, could confidently say, "This is what I was meant for".
Surely, there was more for you out there than working to live, going paycheck to paycheck, always having just enough. Waking up, worrying about trivial things, learning or working, getting stressed at minor inconveniences, eating, sleeping, all on repeat until death finally calls your name one day. 
Wherever you went, you felt like you weren't ever really there. Your only comfort was, no matter how alone you felt, among the 8 billion people in your world, there was someone out there who was going through the exact same thing as you. Someone who knew what it meant to feel like you were in a universe you didn't belong to. 
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The first thing you felt was pain. It was dull at first, stirring you from your slumber and forcing your sluggish brain to wake up and find the problem. You didn't even get to open your eyes before it evolved into burning, searing you from the inside out. Your head throbbed, and your vision swam, your eyes barely registering the room's lights that you were in before you forced your lids shut.
You cried out, curling in on yourself in an attempt to soothe the pain, but to no avail. You tried to breathe through it, and assumed you were making progress when the pain dulled. You should've known that was only the calm before the storm.
Memories, hundreds, then thousands, filled your mind all at once. They started to blend into each other- familiar, yet not and try as you might, you couldn't quite place your finger on any of them. You wailed, clenching your jaw so hard you felt your molars push against your gums. Clutching your head in your hands, tears flowed down your face.
What was this? You had never been in this much pain before. You were dying; that was the only explanation. There was no way you would survive this pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This couldn't be it. You had so much left to do, so many loose ends to take care of. You were not about to die alone in your room because of a goliath of a headache.
The memories still trying to burn their way through your consciousness behind your closed lids started to slow down, and you could make more sense of them now. You furrowed your eyebrows at what you saw. An entrance exam? Holograms? Monsters? These weren't your experiences; you had never seen this before in your lif-
Wait. No. There was no way. You knew they looked familiar, but you would never have guessed… Those monsters, you recognised them. You had seen them on your flimsy phone screen while playing a dating sim the night before that had just been released a month ago. Love and Deepspace. A game set years in the distant future about romance and wanderers.
What the fuck? You blinked your tears away, the pain from earlier feeling more like a migraine rather than a death sentence. You ignored the sweat clinging to your skin and moved the hair plastered to your face out of the way. That was when your brain caught up, still taking its time to make logical sense of what had occurred.
You weren't in your room- for one, it was neat and tidy to the point of perfection. There was a hologram projected where your bedframe would have been, and the mattress was the softest thing you had ever sat on in your entire life. Despite waking up in a strange room you had no recollection of getting into, you didn't feel any unease, and that in itself had you worried.
It felt right, the feel of the plush covers against your legs and the aesthetic of the room itself. It felt like you belonged. You took a deep breath. Looking around to see if you could find your phone, you moved off the bed to go wander. When you saw a familiar black screen on the desk on the other side of the room, you rushed to grab it.
Getting a better look at it once it was in your hand, you realised it was a phone, alright, just not yours. You tried your best to ignore the odd feeling that washed over you when your fingers seemingly moved as if it were muscle memory and entered a passcode that opened the phone to reveal a home screen.
The top of the screen had bold numbers stating it was 18:46PM, with a few apps underneath. You tried to make sense of what apps were what when your eyes landed on the date in small text under the time. January 17th 2048. You froze, feeling like you had been doused with cold water. No, that couldn't be right. You tried flicking through the apps to see if you could figure out what in the fuck was going on.
You shoved down any thoughts of the isekai love novels you had read in the past because surely- surely, you couldn't have something as cliche as this happen to you. Your expression relaxed slightly, your eyebrows unfurrowing as you found what you thought to be a messaging app. Your eyes scanned the contacts briefly. The first was a message from… Caleb?
Who the fu- Oh. Oh, no. You really didn't want to admit it. You refused. You had not transmigrated. That wasn't possible. You tried to soothe your mind by telling yourself this was all a dream, but the dull headache you still had and the pain that came before it convinced you that you were very much awake. You ignored his message, choosing not to open it and reply.
You had to understand the kind of situation you were in first. The text underneath his was an unsaved number. You opted to open the chat, checking the unread message.
'Congratulations on passing the Annual Hunter's Exam! Please head to the New Recruits Registration Centre on January 18th 2048. Your appointment is set at 8:00 A.M., but we advise you arrive 15 minutes early to sign in. We hope to see you there! Our warmest regards to the new Hunters of today.'
You threw the phone on your bed, frustrated and confused, causing you to be reckless. This made no sense. How could this have happened? You couldn't rationalise any of it. You refused to believe you were in Love and Deepspace. For one, it was too good to be true.
You paced the unfamiliar bedroom, trying to figure out your next move. A mirror. You needed a mirror; it should have been the first thing you went looking for. Your legs carried you as if they already knew where you needed to go. Leaving the room, you turned right and opened the door to reveal a pristine white bathroom. You stopped yourself from gawking at how clean it looked (you swore you saw a bidet and an option to warm up the toilet seat) and headed to the cabinet with a mirror.
You blinked once, then twice, giving yourself a once over again. It looked like you- but didn't at the same time. It was… exactly like what you had chosen the main character of the game to look when you played. You looked otherwordly. Clear skin, smooth without a single bump or pore in sight. Naturally pink lips, long lashes and captivating eyes. The face of a model… of a main character.
You wouldn't have been able to explain the existential crisis you went through even if you wanted to, as you brought your hand up and touched your face. The reflection that greeted you was a stranger, but they felt so familiar. Was this really you? Was this your appearance now? Your life? What were you supposed to do? How could you possibly go back to your world? Did you even want to?
You shook your head. This was all too much. You let your feet guide you back to the bedroom, lost in your thoughts, trying your best to think coherently.
That's when you saw it. A small hologram, a pop-up screen, on the bedroom window that took up a whole wall. You paid no mind to the incredible view outside, too perplexed by the screen. You walked closer to it, realising there was writing. Had it appeared when you left the room, or had it been there from the beginning, and you had been too disoriented to notice?
Your eyes traced the words carefully, trying to understand what they meant. You reread it, furrowing your eyebrows. In bold and all caps, on a white background and written in serif print, was the paragraph,
"N/A Y/N L/N - TIME OF DEATH: [REDACTED], 18:39:03:153425
LINKON CITY [REDACTED] - TIME OF DEATH: DIED JANUARY 17TH 2048, 18:39:03:153425
CONDITIONS FOR SOUL SWAP HAVE BEEN MET. WELCOME TO YOUR ORIGINAL UNIVERSE. WE APOLOGISE FOR THE MISTAKE WE MADE AND THE INCONVENIENCE IT MAY HAVE CAUSED FOR THE TIME IT TOOK TO FIX. THIS IS YOUR ORIGINAL UNIVERSE AND WHERE YOU WILL CARRY OUT THE REMAINDER OF YOUR DAYS. ENJOY YOUR STAY."
Underneath the text was only one option. "ACCEPT"- no way of declining. Huh. Enjoy your stay? Apologise for the inconvenience? Delay it took to fix? Were they taking the piss? Pulling your leg? Dickheads. This was a joke. It had to be. Someone was kidding you, pulling some elaborate prank, and all you had to do was say, 'You got me!' and it would all be over… If only.
You weren't sure how long you stood there staring at the display, trying to make sense of it all. You were in a game. A game you had yet to finish because you had to wait to level up every day. A game where you found yourself fangirling over boys on your screen. And who could blame you? The three male leads were captivating. Beautifully drawn and animated.
Your eyes focused on the view behind the small screen of text, past the bedroom's window; the buildings were obscured due to condensation, most likely caused by the rain still falling across the city. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, exhaled and promptly reached out to the accept button and clicked it.
It disappeared, and you were left alone with just your thoughts. You know what? No, you were not doing this today. You were going straight to bed; you didn't have the energy to deal with this. This was a problem for future you.
With that, you slipped into the familiar yet unfamiliar bed and closed your eyes, letting exhaustion and slumber take hold of you.
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From what you could gather from your baffling situation and the cryptic message you saw yesterday, you were in the universe you belonged to. But how did that make any sense? The universe, or whoever was in charge, god, a system? They had made a mistake; you had lived your prime years in a world you were never supposed to exist in, and now you were back where you belonged?
Bullshit- You called bullshit. This was all too much. And if you were here, where was the woman who had been in this body before both souls were swapped? Was she in your uni- her original universe? …Good luck to her then- you hoped she managed to make sense of the shit show that had been your life the day before.
What you still couldn't understand was, how did the soul swap happen? What conditions could have been met to swa- was it the time both of you died? Fuck, this was giving you a headache. You had to blend in and not raise any suspicions for now. What else could you do?
You were sure the events that occurred to lead you to this world were irreversible, and you had no desire to take on some cosmic power that was, in essence, playing with your life. You would make a move once you knew more. Maybe.
You bit the inside of your cheek, miffed but feeling mostly defeated that your life had genuinely been turned upside down, inside out and then fucked sideways.
The walk to the New Recruits Registration Office had been uneventful. Something you were grateful for as it gave you time to take in all that was Linkon City. The skyscrapers were unlike anything you had ever seen, and you were in awe of all the wonders this new world had to offer. Scared and exhilarated, a great combination.
You pulled on the Hunter's Uniform you had found in the wardrobe. It fit you like a glove, but you still couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong. Like your mind was rejecting the whole situation because it couldn't understand it all at once. Your soul felt at ease, though- something you were grateful for since you guessed that was the sole reason you weren't completely losing your mind. Despite your inner turmoil, you were sure you had never felt more at home.
You just hoped no one noticed that the characte- you, had changed. You checked your phone again, and your shoulders relaxed slightly at the realisation that at least you weren't running late for once in your life. Who knew you'd develop time management skills after you were smited by whatever power had brought you to this new world.
You made it to the building in time but slowly stopped in your tracks as you raised your neck to catch a glimpse of the whole place and realised there was seemingly no end to how high the structure was. You took a deep breath- tried and failed to steel your nerves before you entered the office that would be your new workplace. You attempted to distract yourself with the voice that came through the speakers placed everywhere in the building.
"…One day, we will be able to evolve from our current limitations, transcend the boundaries of life and reach the stars." You silently watched as the glass elevator took you to your destination, the people on the street outside forming little specks the higher you went until they were barely visible. "At a certain point in the future, we can pass through the deep space tunnel… and discover the future awaiting us."
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You joined the crowd the minute you entered the Hunter's Association HQ, glad that the lights were dimmed and only focusing on the man you presumed to be the big boss of the place. The older man you assumed to be President of the HA stood on a podium, looking around and waiting for anyone else to join.
You really should have replayed the previous chapters in the game because even though you knew what was to come, your memory of the events of love and deepspace were hazy at best.
"…Fourteen years ago, the Deepspace tunnel appeared above Linkon. It led to anomalous geomagnetic storms, and the creatures known as wanderers emerged. From such an event, the Deepspace Hunter was born. Now, society has returned to a sense of normality, but there are still Wanderers lurking in the shadows. They-"
You didn't get to hear the rest of what the President was saying; a girl in the crowd to your right stole your attention. "After they hand out our badges, we'll be assigned to a squad, which will determine our future. Aren't you nervous?" You gave her a once over- what was her name again? Tasha? She was one of the side characters in the game and had a few scenes here and there.
You couldn't remember if there was an option to respond to her in the game or not. Would it change anything if you did? Did it even matter because this was your universe now? Fuck it. "Not in the slightest." You answered after a moment of silence, shooting her a small smile. You weren't wrong; you weren't nervous about your score- because if the game was anything to go by, your results were predestined.
You turned back to the speech. "You look excited, though." You looked at her from the corner of your eye, taking in her giddy form and fidgeting hands. "I am! I couldn't sleep all night!" She whispered back, covering her mouth with her hand to avoid getting anyone else's attention. It was hard to get over the fact that the person in front of you was real, and not a video game character.
She was the prettiest girl you had ever seen. Short hair that fit her face perfectly, clear skin, and a shine in her eyes you hadn't found in the passersby on the streets that morning. You gave her a soft smile, more sincere this time. You hoped she'd still like you like she had the MC of the game you played.
The two of you turned your attention back to the President, who was still talking. "…Goal as hunters is to extract the Protocores from Wanderers- in hopes of destroying them once and for all. That being said, congratulations on passing the selection process. We are grateful for your hard work." The President clapped, and everyone else joined in, including you, who was bested by social convention.
The President returned to resting his hands on the podium, "We will now begin the ceremony and hand out badges to the new Deepspace Hunters. First Candidate, 003931." His eyes swept the crowd, and you didn't need to see the number pinned above your chest to know it was you. At least you remembered that part of the game.
The girl next to you whisper-shouted as she looked at you. "That's you, isn't it? Hurry, get on stage!" And get on the stage you did. You straightened your back, pulled down your cropped jacket and approached the President. "Morning, Sir." You said, suddenly feeling awkward under his authoritative stare. He acknowledged you with a nod, gesturing to the screen on the podium.
"Place your hand here to confirm your personal info." You leaned forward to better see the display. You hoped the name that belonged to this body wasn't too out of character for you. You didn't want some 'Pride & Prejudice' ahh name. Anything but Jane Doe! Please!
You hesitated for a second before placing your hand on the podium and watched as a hologram popped up and generated your details.
"FIRST NAME: Y/N LAST NAME: L/N BORN: XX.XX.XXXX SECTOR: [PENDING]"
The hologram flashed the different level classification in the corner before a question mark appeared. The President gazed at the screen, "Ah, Anhausen Class… It's been a while since I've seen this Evol. You have a lot of potential for growth and might even acquire new abilities. I can see why Jenna picked you as soon as the rookie list was released to the public." You gave an awkward smile at his words, not knowing how to feel because, technically speaking, that was all the MC, not you.
The hologram made a sound, indicating an error. The word "LOST" showed up in red under the level specifications. "It can't be detected?" The President furrowed his eyebrows slightly at the screen. How did the MC explain this one away? You were sure it was something about an attack and the monsters of this world.
"I got attacked by a Wanderer in 2034, so my Evol isn't stable…?" It came out more like a question, something you inwardly cursed at yourself for. He stared at you for a moment before he nodded. "Hm. That event did change many lives forever. You're not the first Evolver whose levels couldn't be detected." He folded his arms over his chest. "This isn't the only criterion we use when evaluating a Deepspace hunter. As long as you have the skills, this industry welcomes you with open arms."
The President leaned to the side to grab a blue box. "Congratulations, you are now a Deepspace Hunter." He brought the box closer to you, urging you to accept your badge. You took it, muttering, "Thanks, Sir."
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There was no chance to relax as all the new Hunters went out on rookie missions to prove their worth in the field. You damn near jumped out of your skin when your Hunter's watch went off. "Rookies, this is Jenna speaking. I'm your UNICORNS Captain today. Ten minutes ago, there was an abnormal Metaflux explosion at this abandoned base for Protocore research." So that's what this deserted place was.
You felt it in your soul first before the detector picked up on the change; a pulsating vibration passed over you, serving as some sort of warning. There was something here. "It's nearby." You muttered, bringing your Hunter's watch closer. It beeped softly, showing a window stating, "Energy Index", with the numbers 19.5-
"Oh! Your Evol's even better than the detector." You jumped, scared shitless for 0.3 seconds before your brain realised it recognised the voice as the girl from the entrance ceremony. You turned around, the numbers from before forgotten as you faced Tasha. As if she had read your mind and your mistake, she corrected you. "Hi. I'm Tara,"- shoot, you had gotten her name wrong this whole time- "Remember me? I was standing next to you during the badge ceremony."
"Yeah, I do. Fancy seeing you here." You let out a dry laugh, cursing yourself mentally at your awkwardness of having to interact with people you thought were game characters less than 24 hours ago before you were whisked away to this new universe. She quietly snorted at your antics, "You're so cute! I'm so happy we're in the same squad! I saw you, and I just knew we'd be friends!" You blinked, stunned at her compliment and her palpable excitement.
You didn't realise you were tensing until you relaxed at Tara's warm demeanour. "Why don't we team up, then?" You weren't sure if she liked the MC this much straight off the bat, but you were grateful for the inviting air she had around her. You gave her a warm smile of your own. "Sure! The tarot reading I did yesterday told me that I would be super lucky today-"
You didn't get the chance to respond; Tara's watch started beeping, stealing both of your attention. "Wanderers! They're here." Oh fuck. You were not ready for this. Did you have to battle monsters now? At least in the game, there was no way of dying; the MC would just retreat and level up. Did you have that option here? To go back in time or something?
Your watch alerting you of a mission brought you back from your thoughts. You were ashamed that you hesitated for a second, even though you had just received a hunter's badge. You hoped muscle memory would help you fight- Surely, the MC trained in her free time when she had this body. You accepted the mission and looked back at Tara.
"The biggest threat level here is only B, which matches the fluctuations we just felt." At her words, you felt your stomach drop. Why, you had no idea. "Something's not right." You voiced out loud, not quite sure if you could place your finger on what exactly it was. "Yeah, fluctuations normally don't have set values." Tara nodded, folding one arm over her waist and bringing a finger to her chin as if contemplating something.
"Why don't we split up and look around first. Just to be safe?" Safe, your ass! Splitting up in movies always meant death! You didn't want your career to be this short; people would laugh! You gave her a stiff smile, unsure of yourself, as you watched her take her gun out of her holster. "You stay inside- I'll scout the perimeter to see how far the fluctuations go. We'll regroup here once we're done." You nodded, watching her walk off.
You let out a shaky breath as you returned to exploring the building. Wasn't this where MC had to battle Wanderers for the first time? Fuck it, you were 58% sure you weren't going to die, and those odds were good enough. Better than being labelled a coward and, in essence, becoming the company's pariah.
What were you supposed to do now? Wait for your movements to trigger a fight scene or something? You mused to yourself to ease your nerves, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were forgetting something really important. You didn't get to ponder on the thought; a pop-up screen appeared before you.
Okay. So, this is what it felt like for all those main characters in the Isekai game animes when they saw an instruction window in front of them. You squinted at the words, taking them in.
"THERE HAS BEEN A METFLUX EXPLOSION, BUT IT DOES NOT MATCH THE WANDERER'S THREAT LEVEL. YOU MUST INVESTIGATE THE CAUSE OF THIS.
p.s: we hope this message aids you in your mission. again, apologies for the inconvenience."
So, whatever stole your normality from you really did have a heart after all. You were still annoyed for being blindsided and thrown into the deep end but found you were less frustrated at your situation as you pressed the accept button underneath the text. The pop-up disappeared promptly, and you walked past where it had been seconds ago.
You nearly had a heart attack when you heard what sounded like rocks shifting or falling. Your grip on your gun tightened, and you found your body moving towards the noise rather than away from it. Stupid muscle memory! It chose the worst time to make its presence known. What manner of man runs towards the sound of danger rather than away from it?
You finally had more control of your limbs as you slowed down at a clearing. Nature had slowly started taking back the part of the building you had found yourself in, leaves and plants covered the ground.
Your breath hitched when you saw him. Xavier.
That was what you were forgetting! The male leads! They were real, and you were destined to have run-ins with them if the game was any help… You could leave. Turn back and look for the Wanderer yourself and avoid having to interact with someone who had you screaming into your pillow at odd hours of the morning when you were playing the game.
No. You wanted to slap yourself for even thinking that running away was an option. In what world would you give up the chance to see your favourite boys up close? Maybe they wouldn't fall for you this time around, and it wouldn't be happily ever after because you had replaced the MC, but you could at least bask in their presence and handsomeness, no?
You lowered your gun, slowly getting closer, almost as if you were trying to pet a stray cat outside and didn't want to scare it away. If you remembered correctly, MC would try calling for backup, thinking Xavier was injured and needed help, and a monster would show up. You knew from the game that he was fine, just tended to fall asleep no matter the situation- but you also knew you had to get him up because a wanderer was on its way.
Common sense dictated you shake him awake, but you felt guilty knowing he liked his sleep. That, and you were enjoying yourself. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, and damn it, if you weren't going to admire this artwork before you.
To be or not to be, you mused to yourself as you got closer to him and kneeled to his height. "…Hello?" You voiced experimentally, wondering if he'd wake up. No such luck, you realised as you called out to Xavier again, shaking him slightly. What were you supposed to do? At this rate, you would have to call for backup, if only to get him out of his slumber.
It didn't help that he looked perfect even while he was sleeping. He was ethereal, otherwordly. You were in awe of how his skin glowed and how the light reflected off his hair, making him look like he was painted. He looked like he had been cut straight out of the magazine, not a single dirty blonde lock out of place and long lashes that nearly kissed his cheeks. Why was he so pretty? The universe clearly had favourites.
After your fifth and final attempt to wake him up, you gave up; the guy slept like a rock- what were you supposed to do? You felt too guilty to try again; you felt like a criminal for taking away his nap. You'd just have to wait for your death, then. "Please, I'm too young to die again." You thought out loud in desperation, which seemingly did the trick.
He stirred in his sleep, and your breath hitched as his blue eyes finally landed on you. Oh fuck. He was gorgeous. Like, make your knees go weak gorgeous. Like, get lost in his gaze type gorgeous. Like make you wanna bark gorgeou- No! You had to stop your train of thought, focus and try to end the awkward silence between you.
You took a breath, steeling your nerves and putting on your brave face, "Hi, I know you were sleeping, and I'm sorry I woke you up, but you looked injured, so I wanted to make sure you were okay." You gave him the classic white man smile, the awkward one you gave to someone who would let you go first when going through a door or something. You winced, cringing at your words.
You hoped he wouldn't think you were weird. First impressions were everything. "I'm fine," Xavier answered after a beat, gazing down at his minor wounds, and it was over for you. His lazy drawl was smooth and inviting, comforting like honey. "But, you-" You didn't get to enjoy the sound of his voice or hear what he was going to say as the ground started to shake beneath you. The collar on Xavier's neck projected a blue hologram, and you knew exactly what it meant. A wanderer. Oh fuck.
Your body moved by itself, bringing your arms up and pointing your gun at the monster that appeared. "Watch out!" Xavier leapt past you and summoned his sword to attack the creature. You watched in awe at the speed at which he moved, lowering your gun slightly. He faltered as his collar turned red.
He jumped away, finding his footing next to you as the monster disappeared. "It activated its Protofield. You're a Hunter, right? Let's defeat it together." You looked from the purple portal that shifted to Xavier, then back.
It wasn't like you could refuse, you thought to yourself as you entered the portal after the blonde. This was your life now; you had to try and get used to it, at least.
The following five minutes were a blur; you took a back seat and let your body move by memory to defeat the Wanderer. You felt the fear during your close calls, but you were grateful Xavier had your back. When the fight ended, and the monster was crushed, you both were teleported back to the abandoned building.
A purple orb manifested and floated towards Xavier, and you watched as he grabbed ahold of it, shook his head and crushed it in his hand. "This isn't it." You moved closer, interested in his motivations. "Was there something wrong with it?" You queried, regarding the man with curious eyes. "Huh?" He gazed at you, looking lost. So he had no intentions of answering you and was gonna be all mysterious? Cool.
"Do you think there's more Wanderers lurking?" You changed the subject, guessing he probably didn't answer on purpose. "We became prey stuck in a trap the moment we walked into this warehouse," Xavier stated as he looked at his surroundings. "Come." He approached you, taking hold of your wrist as he led the way. You ignored the flip-flops inside your stomach and tried to keep your cool. You had to remind yourself he was doing this for the mission.
Xavier stopped, still holding onto you as he looked around, seemingly searching for something. "Did you enjoy your nap?" You piped, having spent too long in silence, the awkwardness nearly crushing you. "Hm? …Yes, I did." Xavier gave you a funny look, and you ignored it as you mentally cussed yourself out for asking him a closed question and murdering the chance of a conversation.
The uneasy feeling you had gotten since you came here had yet to leave you as you checked the screen on your Hunter Watch, confused as to why it didn't detect any Wanderers. As if reading your mind, Xavier answered, "They're Luminivores. No movement, no fluctuations." So that's why… You met Xavier's gaze as he brought his finger to his lips, signalling for you to stay quiet. "Over here." He cocked his head in the other direction, pulling you with him with his hand still wrapped around your wrist.
He pulled you to sit next to him, trying to hide your presence from whatever was lurking in the shadows, waiting for both of you. You sifted through your memories of the game, straining your brain to see if you could remember the chapter's outcome. As far as you knew, the Wanderers had set some sort of trap for Xavier, and both he and the MC had to take down other Wanderers before the stage was cleared.
"Feels like a trap set specifically for you." You voiced out loud after carefully thinking of what to say without sounding like some clueless Hunter who knew nothing of the monsters that attacked- you thought you did a darn good job considering you were someone who knew nothing about the Wanderers- and who could blame you? You played the game for the plot- the plot, of course, being the hot guys who got involved with the MC.
"I'm just a normal Hunter. You don't need to look too deeply into it." Your eyes softened as you looked at the man in front of you, realising from the game that he had a tendency to look away and avoid eye contact when he lied. Clearly, he wasn't ready to tell you what was going on, and you were okay with that. "Okay, I believe you." You stated, deciding not to dig any deeper.
You didn't notice the curious look he shot your way at your willingness to let it go. "What are you thinking about?" Xavier asked as he watched you furrow your eyebrows, deep in thought. You finally glanced up at him. "Why don't we bait them out and take them down in one attack?" You suggested, confident that the MC had devised a similar plan to defeat the Wanderers. "You…" He trailed off as he stared you down.
You ignored the heat rising on the tip of your ears due to his gaze. "Use your Evol." You stated, remembering the MC's words from the first time you played the chapter. He looked at where the Wanderers were starting to swarm. Xavier held his palm out before him, summoning light into it. The room darkened when he closed his hands. "Guess they took the bait. They're gathering now."
You willed yourself to shake the nervousness you felt, hoping your victory was predestined and that the two of you would get out of there unscathed. "There are a lot of Luminivores. If we don't take them out in one go, they'll respawn using the light." Your hand moved by itself, a feeling you had yet to get used to. You grabbed Xavier's arm, breathing as you willed your Evol to activate, "Then, let's use my Evol." He turned his attention from where your hand rested, to you.
His face… You thought to yourself what a shame it was to see his brows furrow, but fuck did he look good when he was all serious. You mentally shook yourself at the thought; now was not the time! "Please forgive me," Xavier stated as he moved closer, his breath tickling your cheek as he took hold of your right hand and rested it on his chest. You watched in awe as light gathered where the two of you met, a warm glow enveloping the both of you.
The wind picked up as your powers combined, and all you could think was, this was Resonance? It felt like you had joined on a spiritual level, your souls connected for a brief moment as your powers mixed and tangled themselves. All you could do was pay attention to his slow heartbeat and how good he looked with his eyes closed.
The Luminvores burnt away quickly; not a trace of them left as the light disappeared. Xavier got up, looking around and securing the perimeter with his eyes. "The fluctuations are gone, and so are the Wanderers. Your plan actually worked." You relaxed, your form no longer tense, as you realised you were out of danger for the time being. "Too bad we couldn't get any Protocores." You stated, remembering the procedure you were briefed on when it came to Wanderer clean up.
"Ah, they were accidentally blown up." You shrugged at his statement, not too bothered by the fact since you were still in one piece, which was more important. You had done it- with the help of MC's muscle memory. You had yet to get used to the foreign feeling of your body moving with a mind of its own.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, looking at each other, waiting for the other to talk. "…My uh, my name's Y/n. A new recruit. Nice to meet you." Xavier regarded you for a second, and you ignored how his eyes flicked from both your eyes down to your lips and then back. You definitely ignored your stomach doing the 'thing.'
"I'm Xavier." He paused, only for a second, before he turned to face you properly. "By the way, could you do me a favour?" And there it was, the line you were waiting for. "If anyone asks what happened, tell them that… Aside from the Wanderers, you saw nothing else, alright?" Ah, he was asking so nicely- how could you possibly turn him down? You never did understand why the MC was suspicious of Xavier when she first met him.
Then again, he was pretty vague and mysterious to start with. "Okay, if you say so." You accepted readily because, let's be honest, you were weak in front of that handsome face. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen his expression change much since you first encountered him, but you were sure you didn't imagine the slight raise of his eyebrows in surprise.
He looked like a lost puppy, reminding you of a golden retriever. His expression softened, no doubt confused as to why you agreed so readily to his demand, and you couldn't help the smile on your face. "Don't you want me to explain?" You softly shook your head at his question, "You don't have to explain yourself to me. Take it as a free pass for fighting with me."
Changing what the MC said in the game wouldn't hurt, would it? You hoped this didn't set off a butterfly effect that ended with you buried 6 feet under. Either way, he really did save you out there; you were sure if you had to take that Wanderer alone, even with the muscle memories of the body you were in, you would have been defeated. So all's well that ends well.
Xavier's lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but your Hunter's watch stole your attention. "I'm headed over to your location now!" Tara's voice came through the device, and when you looked up, Xavier was gone- so much for distracting yourself with eye candy.
The sound of footsteps getting closer had you turning around to face Tara. "I lost your signal and couldn't contact you at all. These protocore fragments… You took them down all by yourself." She asked, astonished as she lowered her gun. "Yep, all me." You mentally patted yourself on the back for how quickly you lied. "That's amazing! I'm so glad you're okay; we'll talk when the mission's over, all right?" You nodded at her suggestion, shooting her a small smile.
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Once the Wanderer clean-up was over, you, Tara and the New Recruits were ordered to return to HQ. You were just glad to finally be able to relax as you leaned against a wall. Curse you and your unhealthy body that was used to spending your free time indoors. Nothing of note happened after Tara found you, and thank fuck because you weren't sure you could handle another battle. 
It was nice and all, being in a game you had spent time and effort playing until you realised you'd have to relearn the meaning of 'normal'. The chattering of your soon-to-be colleagues did little to distract you from your inner turmoil. Your saviour came in the form of a girl whose name you had gotten wrong. Tara's voice pulled you from your thoughts, "By the way, did we get anything from the data we sent back to HQ?"
You gazed up at the ceiling, trying to recall what had happened since you returned through the blur of memories that day. "Something about waiting for results before jumping to conclusions. I guess Data Analysis still needs to do another investigation." You offered, hoping she wouldn't press you further about the mission. "I'm just glad you're okay; it must have been scary by yourself." 
You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, a small smile gracing your face at her concern for your safety. "Yeah, even though you left me to fend for myself. Guess it's my super lucky day, not yours." You teased, remembering her comment about a tarot reading from before the mission. "You're still in the mood to crack jokes?" She quipped, placing her hand on her hip. You didn't miss the twitch at the corner of her lips, and you couldn't help but snicker at her antics.
"For your information, I was trying to contact you for ages! I was so close to trying just about anything possible, scientific and mythical!" You had a feeling the two of you would get along well. You didn't get to finish the conversation as the light dimmed in the room, and the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen walked in. She was tall, with the most perfect pixie cut, sharp eyes and plump lips. You couldn't help that your first thought was, 'Mommy?' 
"Finally, we meet face to face, UNICORNS Recruits." The chatter in the room dulled to nothing as you lightly kicked yourself off the wall you were leaning on. "I'm relieved to see everyone has returned in one piece. Your performance was recorded and uploaded to our database by the Hunter's Watch each one of you is wearing." You absentmindedly fidgeted with your watch, hoping there wasn't anything suspicious in your results that would raise eyebrows. 
You froze when she made eye contact with you and continued. "UNICORNS only chooses the best of the best. The squad will take that into consideration and assign you to your appropriate sector. In the foreseeable future, the difficulty of your assignments, nature of your work, and scope of your missions will correspond to your sector's role and responsibilities."
You stopped listening, your attention span coming to its end as you started daydreaming. So, Xavier and the other male leads were as real as they came, and you were in a world where you would manage to run into them. You had to wonder if you were still the love interest after swapping souls with a nameless character. You guessed you would have to find out for yourself.
As if on cue, applause erupted in the room as Jenna thanked everyone for their efforts and participation, and you, like the sheep you were, joined in instinctively. With that, Jenna gave a small smile and left the room. The lights switched back on as the room burst into excited chatter once everyone's Hunter's watch beeped, signalling the results were out. 
The robotic voice of a woman sounded through the speakers. "Mission data analysed. Please report to your respective sector at 8:00 A.M tomorrow." Tara brought her hand up to inspect her watch, "Sector... Data Analysis. Captain... Andrew. Yes! I knew yesterday's fortune was right!" She turned to you, her hands clasping behind her as she leaned forward. "Well? What does yours say?"
You gazed at your own device, knowing the results already. "Sector, Alpha Team. My Captain's Jenna." Tara perked up, looking more excited about your results than her own. "You're working directly under Jenna? Wow... Can I visit you in the future whenever I want?" You didn't blame her for using you as an excuse to check your captain out; you would have done the same in her shoes. "Be my guest. We can admire Captain Jenna together." 
Tara whooped at your suggestion, doing a little victory pump. "Wanna get some food?" You suggested, not wanting the conversation to end. You were relieved when she agreed, telling you she was starving.
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Azure Square was beautiful, a cross between a park and stalls that lined the main street, branching off into the distance. Tara had led you there since it wasn't too far from HQ. Grabbing whatever street food caught your eye, the two of you strolled past the trees lining the path until you spotted a free bench near the square's monument.
You listened to Tara rant about her workplace crush, enjoying the scenery and her giddy personality. "…And just like that, the Wanderer was gone! Poof! Disappeared into thin air." You tried not to laugh at her gestures and hand movements that matched the story. "After escorting me to a safe place by the road, she said- "You're safe now. Go home." Aaaah! That's what we call max security!"
She lowered her clasped hands, and you got whiplash from how quickly she became serious. "So yes, as you can see, I became a hunter to follow in Captain Jenna's footsteps. I want to be as badass as she is- to be her equal and fight alongside her…" She blinked, trailing off before she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Oh, I've just been rambling on. What about you? Why did you become a hunter?"
You parted your lips to respond, and you were not ready for the flashback her question had triggered. The screams of help were drowned out by roaring wanderers, the feeling of your stamina depleting as you sprinted through the streets covered in rubble, the panic of not knowing what was chasing you, the burning pain you felt as you were hit, the makeshift shelter you crawled towards in an attempt to save yourself.
Well, that was something, you thought to yourself as you blinked. The memory felt like it was familiar yet foreign at the same time. It was like trying to grasp at smoke, only for it to slip through your fingers. "Looks like you're reminiscing about something from a looong time ago." Tara's words snapped you out of your daze. "You could say that…" You trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
You were saved by the bell, or more like the drone that flew by to give a prerecorded announcement to the passersby. "This is a very important symbol for Linkon City! Mr. Guidey welcomes you to Azure Square!" The drone looked like a ball, clad with headphones that had bunny ears on top. "Here, the past and future coexist! The old and new mingle together seamlessly! This is the charm of Linkon City! Wow!"
"Ahhh, it's so noisy, like a kid who's constantly shouting." You agreed with Tara's complaints, but after a few seconds of listening, it started to grate on your ears like forks against a plate. Either way, you were grateful for the distraction. "Everyone, look over there! Tide Street is hosting a marine-themed exhibition! Follow me…" You followed the drone that whizzed off into the distance with your eyes before looking back at Tara.
Your silent question of, 'Wanna go?' didn't go unnoticed by her, and she promptly shook her head. "I'll call it here; we need rest for work tomorrow. After all, we experienced a real battle today- getting a good night's sleep takes priority. Plus, I live far from here, so…" You nodded, signalling you understood she had to leave. You gave her a small wave, one she returned as she disappeared into the crowd.
Once you knew you were alone, you couldn't help but think, 'What now?' It was too early to be left alone to ponder the day's events and how this was your new normal. As if the universe heard your inner turmoil, you noticed a boy in the bush near you, trying to look inconspicuous. You could sense the hesitation, but his eyes shined with determination. He was clad in a yellow hoodie and khaki shorts, perfect for the sunny weather and clear skies. You decided to call out to him, "You okay?"
That was all the encouragement the boy needed as he slowly stepped out from his hiding place, "So, miss, I overheard your conversation… Are you a hunter on mission?" You shook your head, correcting him, "A hunter on standby." You lowered yourself to his eye level, hoping you wouldn't intimidate him.
"Everyone says hunters are super strong, and you can do anything I ask, right? Riiiight?" You could tell he wanted a favour by the way he quizzed you. He confirmed your suspicions as he pulled out a stack of shiny, golden cards from his pocket, presenting them to you. "Here's what I'll give you as a reward! A full set of Super Hunters AR cards. Follow me!"
You didn't get a chance to say no as he grabbed your hand and whisked you away. "We're almost there. I need you to catch that little red fishie!" He dragged you to a stall and pointed at the prize he wanted. You nodded, signalling you understood the assignment. "I'll do it, but you don't have to give me your cards." This time, the boy didn't get to respond to you, as a little girl in the distance called his name.
"Lucas! You can't cheat in a contest!" The boy panicked, pushing you closer to the stall as he hurriedly spoke and threw the net at you. "Oh no, she spotted us! Take this net, and don't say anything about me hiring you!" He exclaimed as he ran off and left you by yourself. Were you still supposed to catch it from him?
You didn't get to ponder much longer; the sound of light footsteps approaching the stall urged you to turn around, and you regretted the choice immediately. You were not ready.
The man in front of you was drop-dead gorgeous. He had nothing on Xavier, and you could tell straight away that he had indeed been the game creator's favourite. A face sculpted perfectly, an alluring aura and the prettiest set of siren eyes you had seen and- motherfucker, was he glowing? "Unfortunate. This species of fish can only survive for a week on land." Rafayel stated as he stepped closer, gazing at the creatures swimming in the booth.
You inhaled and inwardly cursed as your breath hitched. You couldn't help but gawk, entranced by the beautiful man before you. His eyes met yours as he cocked his head and moved closer. "The fish is gonna slip away, you know." He pointed out before taking the net from your hand. You froze as his fingers grazed yours, not missing the feeling of electricity passing through you at the touch. He let out a little "Ta-Da!" as he went to catch the fish.
Rafayel caught it on his first try, manoeuvring the net in a circle, and the next thing you knew, he brought the tool closer to you and turned it around, showing you his catch. He gazed down at the fish between you, "The owner probably just wanted to throw in some fish to fit the theme- but this one, bright as a flame, is a real Flammula from Lemurian legends."
Your throat went dry, and you unconsciously gulped to relieve the discomfort, still starstruck as you looked at Rafayel. You couldn't speak even if you tried, and you weren't about to attempt to do so, only to have your voice crack, which you were sure would happen if you opened your mouth.
His eyes narrowed only a fraction, and had you blinked, you would have missed it. You wordlessly held out the container with water for the fish, nearly forgetting with all your ogling about the poor creature still flopping on the net.
He dropped the bright red fish into the water, never taking his eyes off you. Fuck's sake. Was he suspicious of you? But how? This was your first encounter in the timeline of the game. Had you met him before? Did he know you- the MC?
It didn't help that his collarbone was on show, and the little show of skin alone was nearly enough to make you go feral. His eyes dilated slightly in what you could only assume was… yearning? "Do you… Know me?" He asked finally, and you cursed at your lack of acting skills.
Had you actually played the game and paid attention instead of skipping lines until the MC interacted with the male leads, you wouldn't have had to suffer. What had the MC said to him in the game for him to walk off so easily? "I, uh… No? Should I?" You placed the container holding the fish down and shot him a question of your own, hoping it would open up a new chapter in the conversation.
Rafayel's eyes dimmed, losing the shine they had momentarily before he turned his head to look off to the side. "No… Nevermind." You tilted your head at his words- had you missed something? "Thank you for helping me, Raf- Ahh, rescue- rescue the fish." You winced at the way you stuttered, hoping he wouldn't notice how you nearly said his name without him introducing yourself.
"You…" He trailed off, stepping closer to you, and you did what any logical person would do when coming face to face with someone who was temptation and allure, personified- you moved back. Of course, of all the moments you could trip over your feet, it was then. You didn't notice the raised brick on the pathway behind you until your heel came into contact with it, sending you falling backwards to your demise.
Rafayel's eyebrows furrowed, and he moved with reflexes that surpassed even those of Xavier, grabbing onto your outstretched hand that had reached out instinctively to save yourself, his free arm coming to rest on the small of your back. Hand placement, hand placement, hand placement- "Are you alright?" He asked, gazing down at you with his unchanging expression. You realised then, on closer inspection, that his eyes were a mix of magenta and wine, a combination you never knew would look so captivating.
Fuck, his hand felt warm on your lower back; the heat from his hand managed to pass through your clothes, "Huh? Yeah… Uh, thanks- again for saving me this time." Once you had regained your balance, he let you go, but you didn't miss how his touch lingered ever so slightly. You watched his eyes leave yours, confused by the look of longing you found there.
You opened your mouth to speak, not yet sure what you would say, and as luck would have it, you didn't have to use your last three brain cells to utter a response. Your phone beeped, telling you your schedule for today still had a routine check you had to attend. "Damn." You mumbled, looking up as Rafayel stepped away from you.
He nodded, standing in place for a few more seconds as he gazed at you before he turned on his heel, silence following as Rafayel left you wordlessly, walking off with his brochure. You were still too caught off guard, not wanting to call after him with nothing to say. Fuck, you were sure there was something you were missing. You held the container in your hand before you, only then remembering the fish you were given.
That was it, you forgot to give it to him. Well, you had a new pet you had to take care of. You just hoped you hadn't changed too much of the storyline.
Unfortunately for you, small ripples had the power to create big waves.
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Rushing over to Akso Hospital in time for your appointment, you focused on breathing through your nose and getting your heartbeat under control. You were lucky you made it just in time since you had to find a fish tank for your new pet, food, bring the fucker back to your apartment, set everything up and not forget your medical report on the way out.
You noted that the hospital didn't feel like one; it looked more like a law firm. The only thing out of place was the receptionist at the front desk dressed in nurse scrubs. You were glad you got close enough to look at her name tag before you spoke.
"Hi, Yvonne. I'm here for my appointment with… Dr. Zayne? Is he still here?" You hoped to everything that he wasn't and had gone home. Out of all the male leads in the game, he was definitely the one you were most nervous to meet. He was a main character- and to top it off, his backstory meant he knew the MC.
Zayne had met the MC when her grandmother took her in; you were sure the two of them were neighbours or something- and that, by default, meant he would pick up on the fact that your mannerisms were different to the woman he was accustomed to. Fuck's sake. You had debated whether to miss your appointment on the way to the hospital but decided against it.
You'd run into him sooner or later; you would rather bite the bullet as soon as possible. Get it over and done with. "Don't worry, all checkups are in the system, which sends out notifications- Dr. Zayne can't forget them." Hah. So he hadn't gone home, and you were going to have to see him. Great.
You debated taking a seat in the corner where the waiting area was for a second to save yourself from standing in awkward silence next to the reception. The nurse looked up momentarily, her hand hovering over the computer's keyboard. "You've known Dr. Zayne for a while, right? I'll transfer your call over so you two can get started." She stated as she pressed a button on the front desk's phone.
You desperately wanted to refuse but had no legs to stand on. What could you have said? No, you didn't know him- the woman whose soul was in this body yesterday knew him? "Akso Hospital, for a brighter future." An electronic device sounded over the phone, and you knew in that moment that your fate was sealed. No turning back.
"Good job, you were ten seconds away from being a no-show." Zayne's voice followed, and you fidgeted with the paperwork in your hands. "At least I managed to get here." You mumbled, feeling like a kid getting a scolding from a parent. It didn't help that his voice was thick, a low timbre that was deep but didn't grate your ears.
Biiig breaths, Y/n, big breaths. "Don't worry, we have five seconds left." You wouldn't run for the bus if it was rounding the corner- what made him think you would run for him? "That's not fai-" He cut you off, still counting down. "Three, two-", and you were off, bounding down the hallway, not wanting to make things worse for yourself.
When you pushed past the doors and first entered Zayne's office, disinfectant was all you could smell. You scrunched your nose slightly at the assault on your senses, glancing around the room to find the man who had rushed you. Your eyes landed on him, gazing down at the computer's interface as he sat in his office chair.
You were floored. Utterly gobsmacked and starstruck at the mere sight of the man. His jawline looked as if it would give you a papercut if you traced it with your finger, his black hair was parted perfectly at the side, and fuck, those glasses really did it for you. "Congratulations, you weren't late. Is this impeccable timing a new Evol ability of yours?" He remarked, still typing away on his keyboard. When you didn't answer, too busy checking him out, he looked up at you.
Your lips parted slightly- the game did him no favours; he was beautiful in person. So handsome it hurt, with looks that could knock the air out of you. You looked away first, finding it hard to hold eye contact with the man. "I showed up, didn't I?" You retorted half-heartedly, sounding less confident in your words than you would have liked.
An uncomfortable silence fell as he continued to type away, returning his attention to the monitor before him. You walked over to him, sliding your medical report onto the desk between you, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place.
Normally, you were grateful when a message from- whatever power placed you in this world- materialised in front of you. Not this time. You turned your attention to the pop-up screen on the desk, obstructing your view of the paperwork you had set down moments earlier.
"MAINTAIN PHYSICAL CONTACT FOR 15 SECONDS.
REWARD WILL BE GIVEN ONCE THE MISSION IS COMPLETE.
A BONUS PRIZE WILL BE GIVEN IF TIMER EXCEEDS.
PENALTY FOR FAILURE TO COMPLETE WILL BE DIRE."
Okay, fuck whoever decided- what the fuck did they mean physical contact? And a penalty for noncompliance? You ran your hand through your hair, tongue in cheek, as you silently seethed at whatever deity was messing with you.
You turned your attention to Zayne, your features softening as he pushed his chair back slightly. "Report." Was all he said, looking at you through the lens of his glasses. You wordlessly bent down, pressing the "ACCEPT" button- because what else could you have done- as inconspicuously as possible.
The pop-up screen disappeared, and you pushed the medical report closer to Zayne, hoping he hadn't noticed anything was off. He picked it up, skimming through it before something caught his eye. "Any changes recently?" Yeah, maybe the fact that you woke up in another world the night before- you couldn't say that, though. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking off to the side when he glanced at you.
You had to think up a good enough lie that he would believe. "I've had patchy sleep, nothing big." Zayne's eyes narrowed at your words, and you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sleep-wake syndrome… That's cause for concern- you do know that, don't you?" You didn't have it in you to care; you were too busy thinking about how you'd have to touch him for more than 15 seconds or face the consequences.
"It's 'cause I was nervous for my first day at work, I'll sleep like a baby tonight." You hyped yourself up for coming up with a fib so fast. He raised an eyebrow at your statement before going back to flipping through your report. "Ignoring medical advice about sleeping like it's nothing. I suppose you're just here to go through the motions." Zayne placed the papers down and moved his chair closer to his computer.
At first, you were offended by his words until you realised he was right; you had come here just to get it over and done with. Damn, you had no comeback. Except one- but it was risky… Fuck it, the impossible had happened overnight; this was your world now- what was the point of thinking and regretting? "Of course not. I came to see your handsome face." You leaned forward with a small smile to sell your sentence.
You placed your hand on the arm closest to you, thinking you'd shoot two birds with one stone. Zayne blinked, raising his head to look at you before he looked at where you two connected. His gaze narrowed at you, and you cursed yourself for the decision you had made. His fingers came to rest above yours before he gingerly moved your hand from his arm, and you swore you stopped breathing when he paused before he let go.
The tips of your ears started to burn, and you prayed he didn't notice the colour travelling to your cheeks. "Patients aren't supposed to flirt with their doctors, you know." He said nonchalantly, but you didn't miss how his jaw clenched. Your lips parted before you could contemplate what to say. "...Yeah, but it's not like you're just my doctor. I've known you long before today- or did you forget?"
Technically, you weren't lying; you knew a lot about him through the game, but you couldn't act on any of that knowledge- even though you wanted to. And let's not forget, he didn't know you. He knew the MC, who was now gone thanks to some prick who made a mistake with your places in the universes.
Now that you thought about it, out of the three male leads, wasn't he the one who had feelings for the MC before the game started? He shook his head at your words, sighing to himself. You didn't get to retort; the pop-up screen showed up yet again, now hovering in front of the curtains at the back of the room.
"PHYSICAL CONTACT: 9 SECONDS
6 SECONDS REMAINING."
Nice, there was a loophole. You didn't have to continuously touch Zayne for 15 seconds; you just needed to hold onto him here and there, and the time would accumulate. Okay, that was easier to work with. Movement in your peripherals caught your attention, and you shifted your gaze as Zayne moved to the other side of his desk, leaving his computer behind and effectively blocking your view of the pop-up. "Sit over here, please." 
You let out a "Hm?" in confusion- unsure of what he was asking of you. Zayne cocked his head to the side, "Listening." So... being vague was another one of his talents. At least you understood that he wanted to check your heart rate. "Sure thing, Doc." You remarked as you walked behind his desk and seated yourself on the little stool in front of him.
You watched as Zayne took the stethoscope's end out of his pocket and placed the tips into his ears before leaning in to listen to the beating of your heart. A small blue hologram, sort of like a loading screen, showed up on the side of the stethoscope on cue as the device synced itself. You raised your chin slightly when you felt his hand graze your rib, your stomach dropping like you took a dive off a rollercoaster. He was really testing your self-control.
Hopefully, he wouldn't find anything of suspicion. Fuck, he was too close, and you were so close to losing all willpower. You had to say something; the silence and his movements drove you up the wall. You inhaled softly, "I think I'm fine. My first day was stressful, but it's not like I'm ready to be hospitalised-" Your rambling was cut short as he hushed you, and you pursed your lips. So much for that option.
His brows furrowed ever so slightly in concentration, and you couldn't help how your eyes trailed to his lips. "Don't talk, but you should still breathe." Zayne finally looked up at you, and the inhale you took at his words got caught in your throat- you were sure your pussy did the 'thing'. 
You had thought his eyes were amber when you first saw him, but with how close he was, you realised they were a bright hazel, a mix of green and orange that blended seamlessly. Zayne moved closer, moving the tip of the stethoscope across your chest. You tensed when his finger grazed your boob, your breath hitching at the touch. "A fast resting heart rate. What riled you up this time?" You swallowed, trying and failing to steel your nerves before looking up at him. 
"You must be hearing things." You supplied meekly, cursing yourself for not sounding more believable. Zayne looked back up at you, raising his eyebrow, and you were sure you felt your cheeks warm but refused to acknowledge it. Clearly, he didn't believe you. Your only option was to be honest- well, semi-honest. "What do you expect when you're so close?"
He sighed, taking the stethoscope out of his ears and letting it rest on his neck. You opened your mouth to clarify, hoping you hadn't pushed his buttons too far, but you never got the chance. You didn't get to brace yourself as you felt your vision swim and your body go weak. You felt faint like you were barely there. Oh, fuck. The stress of everything that occurred that day finally caught up to you. 
You felt your world tilt sideways, and through blurry eyes, you watched Zayne reach out to you, trying to grab you in time. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for an impact that never came. Instead, you opened your eyes to having your face buried in Zayne's shoulder. He had pushed his chair closer to you since the distance between you was short, and he had his arms wrapped around you tightly so you wouldn't fall. You rested flush against his chest, no way of escaping his grip- not that you'd want to.
You breathed him in, your mind still trying to process what had happened. Zayne had caught you, thank god, and saved you from getting a concussion. Your heartbeat hammered against your ribcage, but you ignored it, enjoying his warmth while you had the chance. He moved back slowly, his arms still wrapped around you as he searched your face.
Zayne's eyebrows unfurrowed themselves when he realised you were okay for the most part. He closed his eyes before he leaned forward, and you were sure he was going to kiss you- so you did the most rational thing in your mind. You braced yourself, closing your eyes only to feel his forehead against yours. 
"No fever..." He trailed off as he moved back, and your eyes fluttered open, trying not to feel embarrassed at your thought process. As if you were ready to throw all logic down the drain and kiss him, unbelievable. "Must be low sugar levels." He stated before his eyes met yours. His gaze fell from yours, and you caught how he looked at your lips for a second before clearing his throat and letting go of you.
"Try not to faint again, hm?" Your ears burned at his words, and you wished a hole would open up and swallow you whole. He turned back to his computer, sliding a sweet to you before going back to typing. You felt your stomach flip at the gesture, completely enamoured with the man before you and his silent concern as you ate the treat. If Wanderers didn't do you in first, you were sure his presence would take you out.
"Heart arrhythmia, premature ventricular contractions, heart murmurs, and now low blood sugar." Zayne voiced aloud, and you had no fancy retort for him. "Damn..." You trailed off, and there was no smart comeback on the tip of your tongue this time. You took a peek at the pop-up screen still in front of the curtains.
"PHYSICAL CONTACT: 1:36 SECONDS
0 SECONDS REMAINING.
REWARD FOR COMPLETION WILL BE HANDED OUT ACCORDINGLY."
You breathed a sigh of relief that at least one thing had gone your way that day. "Despite being aware of the risks, you still became a hunter." He remarked, turning his chair to face you. "I had my reasons, didn't I?" You shot back, the flashback from Azure Square still fresh in your mind. He sighed at your response, turning back to his computer, clearly frustrated by your career choice. 
"Linkon has been the safest it's ever been under the watchful eyes of our skilled hunter, Y/n." You snorted at his response, not expecting the dry humour coming from the rock of a man in front of you. He side-eyed you, and you shot him an innocent smile, feeling less embarrassed at the physical contact the two of you shared earlier. "Who knows? Maybe my skills will come in handy, and I'll end up saving you from a Wanderer one day." You retorted half-heartedly as you leaned closer.
Zayne looked back at you, taking you in for a second before he shook his head slightly. "If you wish to hold something over me, then I suggest you be careful while out on the field." He placed another chocolate on the desk, on top of your paperwork, before sliding the pair towards you. "I'd prefer not to see you be airlifted to the hospital via helicopter." He turned to you once again, his expression still serious.
You shot him a small smile- you had been nervous to meet him at first and had forgotten in the process that he was the biggest softie in the game. He just hid it really well under his cold demeanour. The man in front of you was genuinely concerned for your safety, and you were sure you could feel your heart melting at his quiet gestures and vague words.
"Don't worry, Zayne. I'll be careful, just for you." You announced, your eyes softening as you stood up from your seat and popped the chocolate into your mouth. You grabbed your medical report, turning on your heel to leave, not knowing that if you had waited just a second more, you would've seen the starstruck look on his face.
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Once you took an elevator up to your apartment and unlocked your door, shutting it behind you, you debated passing out on the floor. Fuck, what a long day. Who knew meeting such handsome men in the span of a few hours would take everything out of you. You sighed, finally relaxing as you realised you didn't have to interact with anyone else until tomorrow.
You walked over to the fish container you had brought earlier, tapping it lightly with your fingernail to see if the Flamula fish would move at the vibration. It looked up at you for a second before it went back to swimming back and forth in the water. You fed it the recommended amount of food for the day after briefly looking at the back of the fish food you had grabbed from the store.
You kicked off your shoes, too tired to place them neatly by the door before you entered your bedroom to strip out of your clothes. You huffed, finally out of the tight-fitting outfit, grateful you could breathe easier. You fell backwards onto your bed, enjoying the way it made your body bounce for a few seconds before you felt yourself sink into the memory foam.
The sound of distant thunder had you tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of lightning strike across Linkon City. A storm, huh? Good thing you were indoors. Your thought process halted at the sound of your phone going off, and you shot up in bed to grab it and answer in time.
Your eyes barely registered the caller ID- Caleb, before you swiped right and picked up the call. Putting it up to your ear, you let out a, "Hello?" The voice on the other end spoke up, and god damn, he sounded like pure sin. "I knew you'd still be awake. What're you up to?" You glanced around the room, unsure how to react to hearing your- MC's childhood best friend.
"Resting after a rough day, I guess." You answered after a moment, not sure what else to say. "Your first day of hunting. Well?" He was curious, you could tell. You turned to lay on your stomach, the phone still up to your ear as you watched the view outside your bedroom with half your attention. "It wasn't that bad, I'm just exhausted. Social interaction isn't really my forte."
You knew you had to be easygoing with Caleb- you couldn't sound stiff because this body you were in knew him well. "Well, that's good. What matters is you're alive." You snickered slightly at his words, "What do you think I am, a weakling? And why are you calling me so late? Don't you have things to do?" You teased, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the fact that the person he knew his whole life was gone, replaced by you.
"I should be cruising along. My military flight operation wrapped up quite nicely and ended early." You nodded, not registering that he couldn't see you as you hummed in response. "You didn't see any dangerous Wanderers, did you?" You hoped you hadn't made a mistake and that his work was similar to yours so your question didn't sound out of place.
"Are you actually worried about me?" It was his turn to tease, and you scoffed at his remark. "Yes, of course I am." You answered truthfully; you weren't heartless enough to wish ill upon the guy who was supposed to be your best friend. "Come on, I know how important it is for you to visit Grandma with me at the end of the month. Even if I was in a wheelchair, you'd push me there."
You shook your head at his statement, "I'm not that mean. I'd let you wheel yourself there, don't worry." He let out a genuine laugh, choking on his words as he understood your reply, and you couldn't help the grin that took over your features. "Yeah, yeah. You know what- it's been peaceful, so I won't jinx myself. The field within the tunnel is as stable as it can be. Very few Wanderers, don't worry." You could still hear the smile in his voice.
You turned onto your back again, gazing up at the ceiling as he continued, "Everything else is top secret. My lips are sealed." You hummed again in response, familiar with workplace confidentiality. "Yeeep, mysterious and spooky." The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, one he broke after a beat. "It's late. You should go to bed now. Sweet dreams."
After saying your goodbyes, you threw your phone on the other side of the bed. You checked your alarms for the next day, setting multiple just in case the first one didn't wake you up before you turned off the lights and got into bed.
Tossing and turning before you found a position where all your limbs were comfortable, you let your eyes close, hoping sleep would kick in.
➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵
You didn't realise you had dozed off until you woke up. Your vision was blurry at first, and you rubbed the sleep from your eyes before you realised all you could see was white for miles. What the fuck? Were you still asleep? Lucid dreaming? Sleep paralysis?!
Your answers came in the form of a woman whose face you were sure you recognised but couldn't quite place your finger on. She had materialised in front of you, looking around before her eyes landed on you. A light bulb went off in both of your heads simultaneously as the two of you realised what was going on.
"THE REWARD FOR MISSION COMPLETION HAS BEEN GIVEN. 1 MINUTE, 36 SECONDS, AS WELL AS A 5-MINUTE BONUS FOR EXCEEDING THE TIMER.
WE HOPE THIS PROVIDES CLARITY."
You quickly accepted the pop-up screen's words before turning your full attention to the woman in front of you.
"You're- You're her. MC." The woman before you was drop-dead gorgeous and had nothing on Jenna. Her hair framed her face perfectly, cascading past her shoulders, not a single lock out of place. Her eyes shined as if someone had stolen stars from the galaxy to place them inside her irises, her lips were naturally red as if she had lip tint on, and she had the longest lashes you had ever seen.
She smiled softly at you before she parted her lips to speak. "Hi, it's nice to meet you." You were star-struck. Was falling in love with her an option? Probably not, but you would have been grateful for the choice if it was there. "Hi." You didn't know what else to say. Sorry for taking your body and your life?
Yeah, that was definitely a good place to start. "I'm sorry for…" You trailed off, hoping she would understand what you were trying to say. She shook her head slightly, looking down as she contemplated what to say next. "It's okay, I uh, I actually wanted to apologise too, for…" You sighed; this whole situation was impossible.
She looked up at you, her brows furrowing softly as if she was afraid your exasperation was aimed at her. "It's not your fault; it's whatever brought us here. Don't worry." She perked up at your words, happy to hear that your frustrations weren't because of her. "At least we're back in our own worlds, even if it took time."
You nodded at her words because even if you weren't happy about your situation, you had no choice but to accept it. There was no turning back the decision the universe had made for you. "How is- how is everything?" You asked, curious as to how she was coping with what used to be your life. "It's great, actually, I've never felt so at home. I didn't expect it, but it's everything I asked for." She claimed, fiddling with her fingers as she looked down.
She perked up, looking more excited as she went on, "And, do you know TikTok?" You nodded, confirming that, of course, you knew of the biggest app of your time. "I managed to go viral on it. I don't even know how I was just experimenting, and boom! Apparently, I'm an entrepreneur, and people want to sign music labels with me!"
You were stunned at first but smiled softly at her, happy she wasn't struggling. You had to agree; you knew how she felt. You felt in that moment as if a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Standing in front of you was the only woman in the whole universe that understood what you were going through.
You opened your mouth to speak, wanting to ask her more questions, but your voice caught in your throat as an all too familiar pop-up screen showed itself.
"1 MINUTE AND 36 SECONDS, AS WELL AS THE BONUS TIME HAVE PASSED.
YOU WILL NOW BE TAKEN BACK TO YOUR WORLD, AND THIS POCKET DIMENSION WILL CEASE TO EXIST.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOUR PRIZE."
There was no option to accept this time, and you leaned sideways to catch a glimpse of the woman you had been dying to meet all day. She began to disappear, starting with her legs. Her lips parted, and you strained your ears to try and hear what she had to say. "Please, keep a look out for the red ey-" The rest of her sentence sounded garbled, like a PC game glitching.
You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to understand what she meant as your surroundings collapsed in on itself. You reached out to try and grab onto whatever was left of the woman before you, only for your eyes to shoot open.
You sat up in bed, still trying to wrap your brain around what had just occurred, only then noticing that your alarm had been going off. You would have to contemplate later; you had to prepare for your first official day as a Hunter before anything else.
➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵
➵ next part - moonstruck (coming soon!)
The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.
© 2024 horrorhot-line
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gay-dorito-dust · 15 days
Note
can you make HSR male character with a dead reader (I LOVE ANGST, I LIVE FOR ANGST).
for the characters, it's up to you, but if possible, please include Blade and Jing Yuan (if this topic makes you uncomfortable, don't do it)
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Sorry for getting to this after so long and if it was shit.
Jing yuan:
It had been a while since your passing and everyone had seemingly forgotten your name and the fact that you had once lived amongst them.
However Jing Yuan didn’t, he refused to let himself forget the hold you once had over on his heart, mind and soul, or how your actions touching him in ways that he didn’t think were possible.
Life had lost its colour and appeal the moment you died and Jing Yuan had no need to feel excitement for things that he did before with you by his side.
The stars looked dull as though they were mourning you alongside him, the flowers you once given him didn’t smell as fragrant nor looked as healthy as they should’ve. Even the street food stalls didn’t seem at all appetising when you weren’t here to practically salivate over, and or give him the biggest pair of pleading puppy eyes over that never failed to elicit a chuckle out of him.
He stayed inside more often than not as everything outside might as well have been casted in black and white to Jing Yuan, with the only remnants being at your grave of which he often found himself sat in front of.
‘You once asks me what my biggest regret would be and I told you that I don’t live life with regrets, which was a lie and you knew it but didn’t speak up about it, whether it was out of respect or otherwise I’ll never know…not now at least.’ He says with a forced smile, the pain within his chest growing ever greater the more he relived your loss. ‘I am burdened with many regrets. Many of which that have threatened to squash with their weight, but loosing you will be my ultimate regret as with you I was starting to believe in forever in this life once more…only for forever to die with you.’ He concludes as he presses his forehead to your headstone and closed his eyes in hopes of feeling your warmth once more.
But all he felt was the cold, unforgiving and hard surface of your headstone as a tear fell from his eye at the reality that all aspects of you were truly gone forever…
Blade:
Your death was a tragedy Blade couldn’t forget.
It was engraved into every corner of his mind where it was made impossible for him to forget.
Even in his torturous dreams he was forced to watch you die in front of his eyes constantly and in the most horrific ways possible, all the while he remained helpless to stop any of it from happening.
Any remnant of you was clutched tightly in his hand under it bled from his nails digging into his skin, but he couldn’t feel it for he had grown numb. He’d even tie a piece of cloth from your clothes to the hilt of his sword or his finger in order to feel you with him wherever he went.
Just like you always wanted.
Blade couldn’t fully dedicate himself to being your partner but he was more than selfish with your attention and affection. He wanted it all. No, he needed it all for himself and gave you nothing much in exchange other than letting you hold onto him and kiss his scars.
He did love you in his own way and was building himself up to actually be your partner properly, only for you to die selflessly in his arms, whispering that’d you loved him before passing on from your wounds.
Blade thought he should’ve been use to death by now but your death hit him in a way that left him desiring death more than normal, in hopes that he could reunite with you and correct his wrong doings when you were alive.
Now and then in moments where Blade was faced with death, he could feel a presence next to him that felt soft, warm and felt very much like the you he was forced to remember…
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writemekpop · 7 months
Text
Never Too Late | Huang Renjun
Summary: Your idol boyfriend Renjun is worried that your relationship is too risky... he tries to break things off
Genre: Established relationship AU, idolverse, angsty
Word Count: 1k
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You were awoken at midnight by a knocking on the door. You rushed to open it.
“Renjun,” you said, smiling. “Quick, quick! Come in."
Renjun frowned, but let you close the door behind him. As Renjun was a world-famous Kpop idol, you had gotten used to never lingering in doorways, never holding hands in public, not even in the dead of night. It was hard, but for Renjun – your funny, tough, fiery dream boyfriend – it was worth it. 
Renjun’s frown hadn’t shifted. He was holding something fluffy and pink, which he thrust towards you. 
“I came to return your jumper,” he said. 
You narrowed your eyes at him. “In the middle of the night?”
“Yep,” he said. “I figured you might need to wear it.” “I repeat, in the middle of the night?” you said. “Look, you can keep it. You look cuter in it anyway.” 
Renjun shrugged. “Oh… I don’t know. It’s not exactly a guy colour, and I wouldn’t want to stretch it out, and you know what? It’s a little itchy-“ “Keep. The. Jumper,” you said. 
Renjun bit his lip. “Well, I just don’t know… when I’ll be able to give it back to you.” You felt a pain in the pit of your stomach. After all, Renjun hadn’t replied to any of your texts for a week. You’d resorted to checking fan accounts to make sure he was okay. 
“What are you trying to say?” you said. “Are you breaking up with me?”
Renjun’s brown eyes were fixed on the ceiling. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The pain in your stomach grew into a pit, sucking you up. “What? But you’re so happy these days. I know you are.” Renjun was rocking on his heels. “I know, but how is this going to work out? What if people find out about us?” You let out a breath in disbelief. “I thought we already talked about this! Your company is okay with it, and who cares if people hate on me a little? I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” 
“Just take the jumper,” Renjun said, holding it out again. 
You held out your hands, palms facing him. “I swear to God, if you give me that jumper one more time-“
Renjun shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I just need some space.” You crossed your arms. “Well, I refuse that.” 
Renjun stared at you incredulously. “I’m asking for space. You can’t refuse that!” “Yes, I can,” you said, your voice growing soft. “I know you miss me, Renjun. You’re missing me right now, aren’t you?” 
Renjun was so close you could have stretched out your arms and hugged him. He was trembling even in his coat, trying desperately not to meet your eye. 
“What happens if everyone finds out, and then we break up, huh?” Renjun said. “My fans might get hurt.” “You mean, Renjun might get hurt,” you said quietly. “You’re scared, so like a child, you’re pushing me away. You know what? I thought you were better than that.”
You moved forwards to open the front door and let Renjun out, but his hand caught your arm, and moved up your shoulder to entwine in your hair. 
And then, he was kissing you. 
Renjun fit so perfectly against you, his chest against your chest, his mouth against your mouth, that it was impossible to believe you weren’t soulmates. The week apart from him had dulled him in your memory. You had forgotten just how soft his lips were, how delicious his smell: like woodland moss, fresh with dew. 
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, kissing him more deeply, pulling him back into the house with you. You had to stop, however, when you nearly tripped over the pink jumper, that was on the floor. 
Renjun bent to pick it up, and hand it to you.
“Hey,” you said seriously. “That’s a health hazard. I don’t want that thing anywhere near my house.”
Renjun smirked. “What if… I’m wearing it?” 
“Only if you wear just that jumper – and nothing else,” you said. 
“Deal,” Renjun said. “Well… I’d better start stripping then.” 
“Deal,” you replied, grinning.
MAIN MASTERLIST
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little-diable · 30 days
Text
One day you're gone – Tommy Shelby
Let's just ignore the fact that songs are my biggest inspiration, ok? Alright. Inspired by "one day you're gone" by "gavn!". I know this is super angsty, but I think it's a beautiful fic, so please give it a chance. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: She died years ago, and yet he still dreams of her, forced to relive their moments together every single night
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of his wife (sorry for killing us off), this is sad, like really
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.3k words)
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One day you're here and one day you're gone, you beat to the drum but you keep movin' on, ain't nobody knows when the next name's called, ‘cause one day you're here and one day you're gone
He dreamt of her, hands trembling from feeling his fingers interlaced with hers just moments before waking, heart racing from clinging to her like a blanket made to protect his shuddering body, lips tingling from kissing her breathless, at least in his dream. 
Those were the nights where Tommy woke with a cry, unable to wipe away the tears clinging to his cheeks as he choked on his gasps. Ever since he had been a little boy, he had been forced to let go of people, a dull pain Tommy had slowly adapted to. Until (y/n) had been ripped from his side, leaving him and the life they had begun to build together. 
He dreamt of her nightly, of their moments together, from childhood memories, to their wedding day. He saw it all so clearly as if he was watching recordings, though not in black and white and without sound, but full of colour. A bright splash of life like she had been, the light in his darkness, the colour in his grey life, the guiding hand that was now one with the soil he still felt clinging to his fingers. 
“Today we mourn the loss of our (y/n), daughter, friend, wife.” Tears blurred Tommy’s vision as he stood near the coffin, hands interlaced in front of himself to try and stop his hands from trembling. He, Arthur, some of their friend’s and (y/n)’s father had carried the coffin up to the grave, unable to speak as the weight of their sadness weighed them down. 
“Thomas.” The bucket filled with soil was reached out for him to take, forcing his eyes to find the dark ones of their pastor. With a shaky exhale leaving him, he let his fingers disappear in the cold soil, taking just enough to throw it down onto her coffin, covering a small part of the dark wood. 
“How could you do this to me?” His voice carried exhaustion, speaking to those who were listening, the holy Father promising to protect those finding his way to him, people like (y/n) who had been ripped from this life too early. 
Tommy rose to his feet as his fingers found a cigarette, alighting it before making his way out his empty bedroom. One of the places that held too many memories. One of the places he couldn’t part from just yet because his nose could still pick up on the scent of her perfume, because his eyes could still see her soft frame lying next to him, even though it had been years. 
“Oh, Tommy.” She had her back arched off the mattress, legs wrapped around his middle. The two had gotten married hours ago, saying yes to one another in the company of their families and friends, finally reunited after the war. Tears had been shed that day, tears that were falling now once again, though these tears were urged on by desperation, by love, by lust. 
His hips met hers with every thrust, drawing moans from (y/n) as his cock nudged her sweet spot. Tommy couldn’t rip his eyes from her features, the beautiful face he had thought of in France, clinging to his memories as if they were the oxygen he needed to survive. 
“My beautiful wife,” his words left (y/n) moaning, walls fluttering around his cock. The scent of her perfume wrapped itself around Tommy, luring him even further into the grasp she had on his body and soul, a promise made to last for eternity, a promise broken in only a few months time. 
“I love you, Thomas, I always will.” 
Rain was pouring from the sky, as if nature was sharing Tommy’s pain, missing the one who had spent most of her time in their garden, the one who had talked to the flowers as if they were her friends, the one who had watched birds pick up the seeds she had left for them as if they were pilgrims sharing her path. A kind hearted soul who had paid the price for a life Tommy hadn’t been able to protect her from. 
Tommy didn’t know how to make it through life without (y/n) by his side, he hadn’t lived a single day without her being part of his closest circle, glued together from birth, brought together by their mothers who had been friends for years. Ever since their first days together, Tommy had loved her, first as a friend, then as a lover, then as a husband, and now as a widower. 
“Can I kiss you?” Tommy’s voice filled the evening, forcing her wide eyes towards his bright ones. 
“What?” Nervous chuckles bubbled out of the young girl. She struggled to hold eye contact with Tommy, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, unable to rip herself away from the boy. It was Tommy’s fourteenth birthday, celebrating his day with (y/n) glued to his side, chasing him through the streets both knew like the back of their hands. 
“It’s my birthday wish.” Heat flushed through her as Tommy carefully cupped her cheek. She knew that he had kissed other girls before, locking lips with those she envied, but not once had she been kissed, waiting for Tommy to finally give in. 
“Do it.” His lips were on hers in an instant, drawing a surprised gasp from (y/n). It was a clumsy kiss both had to adjust to, but once her nerves finally let go of her, allowing the young girl to get used to the new sensation, she found herself enjoying the new feeling. 
With a sigh rumbling through Tommy, he plopped down on the stairs leading up to their house, stairs she had walked with naked feet whenever she had finished her garden work. The garden had withered away with her passing as Tommy hadn’t found the strength to step foot on the grass she had cared for. 
Whatever it was that now spurred him on, it forced Tommy back to his feet. The cigarette was long forgotten as he stepped foot on the wet grass, his shirt and underwear instantly soaked through by the pouring rain. He had his bright eyes focused on the weathered flowers, coming to a halt in front of one of many flowerbeds. 
His hands started working, reaching for the dead flowers to rip them from the lifeless soil. And for the first time in years, he felt connected to (y/n), clinging to what she had once planted. Tears once again ran down Tommy’s cheeks as he kept working, only halting his movements as his glassy eyes found the rising sun painting the sky orange and pink. 
“I’m sorry it took me this long, love.” The words were whispered, eyes unable to leave the sky as he made plans to revitalise their garden. He’d never be able to bring her back, but at least he could keep the memory of his loving wife alive. 
Broken bones, you live and learn, ‘cause we don't know that a good thing ends, but someday I hope that it'll all make sense, one day you're here and one day you're gone
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sun-snatcher · 2 months
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🌾 ・ OF CLARION CALLS
summ. The rebellion runs into trouble, & Jet takes the brunt of it. In the aftermath, you fight to keep him alive. pairing. Jet x f!medic!reader w.count. 1.5k a/n. So little Jet fics/imagines around so i had to take matters into my own hands. Enjoy!
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The moonlight casts a halo above your head, and for a brief moment, Jet thinks you’re a divine spirit, perhaps a goddess— or whatever it is his mother used to read to him before bed.
( In some ways, you are. )
…Jet, he hears, distant. He can’t pinpoint exactly where— every sound is either muffled or echoing, and the world keeps tipping in and out of a blur. All he can sense through the haze is the belt of dull pain creeping up his chest, and the cotton-numbness engulfing his head. Right. He’d been shot clean through his armor plate by a wayward arrow after he’d jumped infront of Sneers to protect him. He remembers now, vaguely. It had been an ambush on their way home.
...et, stay with me. 
Jet. 
“Jet!”
The world focuses. He inhales, sharp, and the pain blinds him white as he gasps.
“Easy there, handsome,” you joke (not really), holding his twitching body down and trying to meet his dazed look. The blood is thick enough to taste, and one look is enough to tell he’s walking a tightrope between life or death. He's growing colder, and losing colour by the minute. You make quick work to staunch the gaping wound in his chest, hope he can’t detect the shakiness in your hands, or the tears gathering in your eyes. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“Will he?” comes a voice behind the two medics crowding him. It’s Smellerbee, standing at the step of the medical tent; her voice sounds uncharacteristically frightened, and it sends a pang through your heart. I’m fine, Jet instinctively wants to insist, but you answer for him instead. “Yes. He will." ( And, well, surely such a small deception would not count against you, not when it was meant to give the others some measure of peace. )
Jet blinks, finally orienting himself enough to look at you and not through you— and blinks again. You’re lying. He could feel it. He could always tell, whenever it comes to you. 
…Stay, he thinks, suddenly and senselessly, and clasps his bloodied hand around your wrist. He calls your name, voice straining in pain. But he must’ve said it aloud instead, because you’d smiled at him as gently as you could— even when it looked as if the effort of doing so would wound you— and said, calmly, convincingly: I promise, I’m not going anywhere.
“With me?” he asks, again, even when he knows he must’ve sounded like a madman. Perhaps it’s the bloodloss. Likely, it was. It wouldn’t be such a bad end, though, so long as you stood by his side. He wants to tell you this— been wanting to for a long time, now— but the strength has left him, leaving him floating somewhere between the world of waking and dreaming.
“With you,” comes your reply. 
You catch the ghost of his trademark smile just before he slips away.
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Jet survives.
That’s the first surprise. 
The second is that; you’re here. Just as you’d promised.
He must have been out for longer than he thinks, because the atmosphere in the medical tent seemed to have ebbed to something much more conducive than last he remembers. The tinctures of alcohol and sedatives surrounding him and his bloody bandages that night are now replaced with dry ingredients; yarrow half-crushed in a mortar and pestle, mixed herbs and colourful liquids corked in tiny bottles and tins he couldn’t begin to name. His armour had been stripped from him, lying above a chest by the corner.
Ever the leader; “Sneers,” is the first word out his mouth, once he’d stirred awake on his cot and recognition returned slowly to him. It’s early sometime in the morning, judging by the colour of the sky outside the tattered tent flaps and the still quietness in the air. Beside him, an incense of sandalwood burns. “Sneers—”
“Is alive, thanks to you,” you override. The faint bitterness in your voice is not lost on him.
Somehow, someway, seeing him conscious now seemed to make you bristle. You think— no, you know— that it’s unfair of you; that it’s simply the pent-up frustrations and stress overflowing from the night he’d been hauled back to camp with one foot in the grave. But Longshot’s harrowing clarion call for a medic from the trees still rings clear as a bell in your head, just as much as the cold shock that had seized you the moment you realised the birdcall was for Jet.
“Good.”
“Not good,” you correct, “Not when you of all people pay the price.”
( Jet doesn’t delude himself into thinking that there could possibly be another meaning to what you said. It would be impossible. ) “You would’ve done the same,” he bites back, and takes your silence as quiet agreement.
“You’re upset,” Jet points out, narrowing his eyes. “Why?”
A sigh. “You just woke up,” you dismiss, if only to get him off your scent. “We can talk another day.”
“We’re already here, so let’s settle it now. The mission went well, and as far as I can see, I’m the only one in here, which means nobody else got hurt on the way back but me. Atleast, not as badly.”
It’s a debrief, you recognise. A coping mechanism for him— to spur himself into action and settle himself. Given the stress and trauma his body has been enduring the past days, you let it pass.
It’s only when you shift out from your seat by his cot, standing to begin putting away the bowls of medicine prepared, that Jet realises your fingers had been holding his wrist before. You must have stayed up for, what he can only imagine to be long nights, to keep track on whether his pulse was still beating. ( Something inside his chest burns. He can’t tell if it’s your doing or the injury being fussy. )
“I’m sorry,” he huffs, sighing out. “If that’s what you wanna hear.”
“For what?” You set the mortar down on your table with more force than necessary, and looked at him sharply from over your shoulder. Jet, damn him, still looks at you straight in the eyes, confident as ever. You want to kiss him. You want to break his nose. “For being a hero?”
“No.”
“Playing martyr?”
“No.”
“For saving Sneers? Everyone?”
“No—”
“Then what?”
“For scaring you,” he says, simply.
Your heart starts. 
A frisson runs through you, and you feel the back of your eyes begin to burn.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” he emphasises, and doesn’t say, I’m sorry I made you cry, because your prideful self would have denied it instantly, even if he remembers it clear as day. “I’m sorry I put you through that.” 
He yanks at a loose thread on the blanket you’d laid on him a night ago. It must have been terrifying to see him be dragged to the table, half-dead with a broken arrow in his chest, and leave a mess of blood and horror in his wake. It must have been terrifying, indeed, to be the one responsible for him against Death itself— to carry the weight of his life on your shoulders, while the rest of the Freedom Fighters watched on. 
“It’s, it’s my job,” you turn away to close a drawer of medical instruments, because you’re not quite sure you can stand meeting his gaze. Not when it only reminds you of just how much he lived, breathed and bleeds chaos and revolution; not when you know this accident definitely won’t be the last.
You can’t handle him. Or maybe it’s yourself you can’t handle, when it comes to him. “Just, be careful.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he salutes mockingly, albeit with a wince. The flinch is what kicks you back into action.
“You’re staying in bed until you’re better,” you order, curt, ignoring his groan. His wrapped shoulder still seems painfully defiant despite all the numbing you’d given him; it would be a couple of weeks longer before he’d be fully healed, but knowing Jet— he’ll be up performing duties within a week. “That means no strain at all. No scouting or recon or hunting, got it?”
He lulls his head, but there’s a dash of humour on his face. “Since I’m bedridden, does that mean you’re at my every beck and call, then?”
Your face twists. He lets out a laugh when you answer, "In your dreams, Jet."
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
You roll your eyes, though without heat, and place a bowl of fresh water by his side. There is, at the very least, a smile on your face, and Jet’s sure he can sleep well tonight knowing you both are, at the end of the day, okay. 
“Hey,” he calls your name, once you've begun making your way out the tent. You try to ignore how much more sweeter it sounds coming from him. “I really am sorry. I’m serious.”
He had caught your sleeve when he spoke, so your fingers now brush against his. You try not to focus on the touch too much. “So am I.”
“We can’t lose you, Jet,” you continue, unsteady; because saying I can’t lose you would have been unthinkable.
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marvelmusing · 4 months
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Dark Depths
Part Two
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader (mermaid au)
Summary: After growing somewhat accustomed to your new life under the sea with Aleksander, the time to hunt the stag for your coat arrives, meaning you must make your return to land.
Warnings [18+]: smut, oral (fem receiving), mermaid to human transformation, mentions of injury and blood, Aleksander keeps the reader in the dark about a lot of things, unestablished dom/sub dynamic, some angsty vibes
My Masterlist • Part One
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It doesn’t take long for Aleksander to find you, sitting in your usual spot on a rocky crag not far from the shore. The tail Aleksander had given you is a dull gold colour, the kind that changes depending on the lighting. Under the sea it shimmers like a treasure chest stuffed to the brim, but as you sit perched above the waterline your scales look muddy in the cold daylight.
Ever since you were a small child you’ve longed for the sea, and now your heart belongs to Aleksander, to the open ocean and all its wondrous creatures. But being born on land means that a fracture of your soul lingers there, a dull ache in your chest that refuses to be rid of so easily by Aleksander’s magic.
He settles beside you smoothly, wrapping his arms around your waist to console you. He kisses the salt streams on your cheeks, brushing his nose against your face affectionately.
“I know it hurts,” he murmurs.
A sob catches in your chest and you shake your head. There is no way he can know how deep your pain runs. Desperate for something to alleviate the discomfort, you begin to itch over your collarbones.
Aleksander curls his fingers around your wrist, halting your self-destructive actions. Unused to having such sharp nails, you hadn’t realised the scratches you had been leaving over your skin. He places his hand over your chest, smoothing soothingly over the irritated skin there.
“When I was born, Grisha lived on land,” he admits quietly.
Tears glistening in your eyes, you turn to face him.
“Like me?”
He nods slowly.
“My mother was an incredibly powerful witch with impossibly high standards for her children. In the time I spent with her, she abandoned five children.” He pauses, staring out towards the shore with a sombre expression. “I remember each of them.”
There’s a despondent glimmer in his dark eyes and you reach for his hand. He glances back at you, offering a brief smile that fades all too quickly.
“When I didn’t live up to her expectations, she cast me aside as well.”
“How old were you?”
He swallows hard.
“Thirteen.”
“Aleksander,” you whisper softly, squeezing his hand.
“I went searching for my sister after that.”
“Your sister?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of the sea witch that lives further north.” You nod. “Ulla took me in for a little while. She helped me with my tail.”
Considering this new information, you begin to fidget with the crystal on your necklace.
“The other Grisha call you a witch.”
He laughs softly.
“They do.”
“Why?”
“Grisha use their power through song. Their voices manipulate their specific sphere of power - whether that be fire or metal or blood. Those who don’t rely wholly on their song are considered witches.”
Aleksander has used his magic around you on several occasions. A simple flick of his fingers can summon tendrils of shadows - something he seems to do unknowingly when he’s lost in thought. Alina had sung to you when the two of you were children, making the sunlight dance with her enchanting melody.
“I’ve never heard you sing.”
Aleksander is quiet for a moment, his gaze lowered to the rock beneath you.
“Most Grisha sing in pairs with someone whose power complements their own. Harmony is important to us.”
“Complements?”
He nods slowly, leaving you guessing at what he means. Light would complement darkness; but you’ve only ever known one sun summoner - Alina. But surely he could have taken her for himself when she had made a deal with him for human legs. Instead, he had used her power to give you a tail with seemingly no benefits for himself.
The expression on your face must appear pained due to your confusion, as Aleksander kisses your forehead, tucking your head against his chest.
“It will get easier, once you have your coat. I promise.”
At the mention of your coat, you perk up a little.
“When will we start looking for the stag?”
“Soon.”
“But when is soon?”
He breathes out a small laugh at your enthusiasm.
“When the first flakes of snow fall over the land.” You nod. Aleksander’s touch is delicate as he strokes your cheek, keeping your attention on him instead of the shoreline. “How are you feeling today?” he asks softly.
A small crease appears between your brows.
“Better. My tail doesn’t hurt anymore. But…” Heat blossoms over your cheeks as you trace your fingers over your abdomen. “There’s a strange ache here.”
He hums absently.
“Swimming in your ocean form will require your muscles to stretch in an unfamiliar manner. You will grow accustomed to it.”
Unconvinced by his explanation, you bite down on your lower lip, dragging it between your teeth. There are plenty of other places on your body that feel sensitive as of late.
“Are there muscles here as well?” you ask shyly, gesturing to your chest.
Aleksander’s gaze sharpens, examining you intently.
“May I take a look?”
Nervously, you glance around at the open sea and the nearby shoreline, searching for anyone who could see you in such an exposing position.
“Here?”
“No one can see us.”
Hesitantly, you reach for the coarse piece of string holding the fabric together over your chest. Aleksander had fashioned it for you, though he had also explained that most merfolk only wear jewellery and their coats. Aleksander himself always wears a belt, with his pouch and knife attached to his hip and a small scrap of cloth covering a portion of his pelvis.
The fabric covering your top half is still damp from your time in the sea and it clings to your body. Aleksander removes it slowly, revealing your bare body to him. Instantly, your nipples harden from the cold, salty air. As always, his hands are warm and you shudder when he cups your tender breasts.
He gives you a gentle squeeze, drawing a weak sound from the back of your throat. He then begins to roll your nipples between the pads of his fingertips, alleviating some of the pressure beneath your skin. A soft moan escapes your lips and your eyes flutter closed momentarily.
Aleksander glances down, a smirk tugging at his lips. When you follow his gaze, you find your lap glossy with a thick wetness, though you struggle to find where it has come from.
“There is nothing you need to worry about,” he assures you. “Merfolk reach maturity at around your current human age; your body is simply preparing for your mate.”
There’s a haze clouding over your mind, his words wading through fog and your thoughts scramble for comprehension. Slowly, you blink at him, staring at the lean muscle of his stomach and tail, the thick hair over his jawline, his pink nipples, and strong hands. He’s so beautiful, it makes you ache.
“How do merfolk mate?” you manage to ask him.
He smiles widely, cradling your face between his hands and for a moment you think he’s going to drag you back down to his cave and show you. Instead, he kisses your forehead gently.
“Not yet, darling. I’ll show you, in time.”
»»---------------------►
When the snow begins to fall on land, Aleksander instructs you to wait in the shallows for him. Nervously, you bob your head above the waterline, eyes scouring over the shore for any sight of him. Being parted from him makes you uneasy. It isn’t long before you see a strong black horse galloping over the sand with Aleksander sat astride.
He looks like a king. The thick black fur of his coat is piled up over his shoulders, the adjoined cloak billowing behind him in the wind. He’s attained human clothes: polished black riding boots, dark trousers, and a fine woollen jacket. The image of him makes your stomach flip and you swim closer to the shore, eager to join him.
Aleksander dismounts smoothly, striding towards the water as you flail with your tail, struggling to change into your human form as quickly as you’ve seen him do it. He wades into the shallows, scattering sea spray as he scoops you up easily and carries you out onto the sand. He kisses your temple as he lowers you to the ground.
“I’m going to take your necklace,” he tells you.
Instantly, your hand closes protectively around the gem hanging between your breasts, clutching it tightly.
“Why?”
“The power in the crystal is what gave you your tail. While wearing it, you won’t be able to change back into your human form.”
Aleksander had given you this necklace when you were still human. The power inside had belonged to your childhood friend Alina, traded to Aleksander so that she could become human. It feels wrong to give it up, even temporarily. He notices your hesitation, curling his fingers gently around your wrist.
“I’ll take good care of it. I promise.”
When you nod, he unclasps the back of the chain, removing it from around your neck. He places it on himself, the shimmering yellow gem nestling perfectly at the hollow of his throat. Aleksander watches you intently and you frown, eyes wide with confusion as you search his expression for any clue on what is supposed to happen.
Then it happens.
It feels as if someone has sliced through your tail, carving a sharp blade deep into the muscle and bone that are now shifting back into legs that you can’t bear to look at. The sight of them, thighs and calves and toes, so sickeningly human, makes you cry against Aleksander. You don’t want them. You want your tail back. Hot tears spill down your cheeks, the salty droplets a poor imitation of the sea that is now your home. It hurts.
Aleksander’s voice is a near whisper, but it somehow manages to cut through your anguish.
“Let’s clean you up a little.”
The wounds have closed, but the blood remains sticky on your legs. As Aleksander moves you over to the water, the sand grates against your sensitive skin. Everything is too much all at once. The muscles in your legs twitch painfully, protesting against their existence. A weak sob shakes your body as Aleksander scoops up a handful of water, pouring it carefully over your legs to clear away the blood.
“Just focus on one thing at a time,” he suggests in a low murmur. “The water’s cold, isn’t it?” A small hum of agreement catches in the back of your throat, as you bury your face further into his chest. “How does the sand feel?”
“Itchy,” you mumble petulantly.
He breathes out a soft laugh.
“And how do I feel?”
“Warm. Safe.”
He kisses the crown of your head.
“I’ll always keep you safe, my little starfish.”
That draws a weak laugh from you.
“Starfish?”
He hums in agreement, offering you a small smile.
“A delicate little thing, but very hard to break.”
Emotion sticks in your throat at the sincerity of his words.
Walking is awful. Each step feels like a knife is piercing through the sole of your foot. Every breath is accompanied by a sob. Aleksander keeps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly beside him as your teeth chatter. When your tears turn pitiful, he hooks his arm beneath your knees, opting to carry you to his horse.
“It will get better,” he assures you, pressing a faint kiss to your hairline before he lifts you up into the saddle.
»»---------------------►
Aleksander wakes before you, slipping out of the small bedroom he had rented at a local tavern. He returns with a tray full of breakfast, rousing you from your slumber as he removes his boots.
He slips his arm around your waist, draping his body over yours as he pulls your back against his chest. His palms are warm and firm as they run over your bare body. He leaves a trail of slow, lingering kisses along the length of your neck before murmuring against your ear,
“The men downstairs are whispering. They think the mysterious traveller has caught himself a mermaid.”
“They aren’t wrong,” you mumble into your pillow.
Aleksander smiles against your skin.
“But you weren’t a mermaid when I caught you, were you?”
Unable to fight your smile, you squeeze your pillow, nestling yourself further under the sheets.
“No.”
His smile widens. There’s a pause as the two of you soak up this moment, soft sunlight filtering its way through the thin curtains as you stretch lightly, reaching for your pillow and tucking it against your chest. Aleksander presses a tender kiss to the space between your shoulder blades.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
His question brings your attention back to your body, the aches and pains and the terrible sense of loss that hums inside you.
“Like someone’s hollowed out my heart.”
He kisses your temple softly, sliding his hand beneath you to place his hand over your chest.
“Your heart is right here. Even I can’t take that from you.”
Aleksander gives your body one final affectionate squeeze, before he sits up.
“I think you could,” you whisper.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he reaches for the tray of food, breaking up a crust of bread to feed to you in small portions. The action makes your stomach flip, reminding you of your first few days under the sea, when Aleksander had fed you by hand because you were too weak to do it yourself.
Settling yourself back against the rickety headboard, you bunch up the covers, drawing them up to your chest to shield yourself from the morning chill. Aleksander holds a piece of bread up to your lips, ignoring the heat burning over your face.
“I can feed myself,” you protest quietly. The words come out softer than you intended, weakened mostly by the indulgent smile quirking at the corner of his lips.
“It’s my duty to provide for you.” He pinches your chin lightly between his fingers, a darkness glimmering in his eyes. “Humour me.”
When you take the bread into your mouth, his smile widens and your body is molten hot, your breathing deep and heavy as he looks at you, gaze unwavering. He feeds you the entire slice, piece by piece, praising you the entire time.
Once you’ve finished, he brushes his knuckles over your cheek, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.
“You seem warm, milaya.”
He tugs the covers back, revealing your naked body to him. Instantly, you clasp your legs together tightly and he chuckles.
“Shall we check that the change was successful?” he asks, mischief dancing in his eyes as he curls his fingers around one ankle. With the attention of the room being brought onto your legs, embarrassment crawls over your skin.
“Don’t,” you say quickly, before adding in a small whimper, “Please.”
Aleksander stares up at you, his dark eyes flickering over every inch of your expression and you feel frightfully vulnerable, as if he can see every thought rushing through your mind. He pushes at your ankle slowly, bending your limb so that your foot is placed flat on the bed.
“I know you don’t think much of your human form,” he says in a low voice. “But tail or legs, you are beautiful.” He presses the barest hint of a kiss to your calf and you shudder. “Can I show you?”
He continues his kisses, mapping a path slowly upwards from your ankle. Breathlessly, you squirm beneath him.
“It isn’t mating season yet,” you state.
He grins.
“No it isn’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t kiss every inch of your body, does it?”
His lips are warm and firm as he kisses over your calves, parting your legs with ease. His fingers rub soothing circles over your tense muscles, doing everything he can to alleviate the aches and pains that linger after your transformation. Emotion catches in your throat, tears gathering in your eyes as his mouth reaches your knees.
“Aleksander,” you cry. “Please.”
The rough scrape of his beard is delightful against the soft skin of your thighs and you whine as he spreads your legs even further apart. His teeth drag lightly over the flesh of your inner thigh in a playful bite and you tip your head backwards against the headboard.
He hums quietly. His nose brushes against your mound and you whimper. He tilts his head, clicking his tongue at the sight of the mess between your thighs. A jolt of pleasure jitters down your spine. Arching your back away from the mattress, you throw one hand back to gasp at the headboard. The other hand sinks into Aleksander’s dark locks, fisting the hair tightly as you cling to him.
He glances up at you, his lips parted, and you feel as though you might come undone just by looking at him, imagining his lips against your cunt. His gaze is deliberate as it moves down your body, so weighty you can almost feel it over your skin like a caress. When his eyes lock onto your cunt, you squirm lightly, heat burning across your cheeks in an inferno.
“May I kiss you here?” he asks in a whisper.
You nod fervently and he grins darkly.
“Come now, little starfish. I would like a proper answer.”
“Yes, please. Please kiss me there.”
His lips are so gentle, the barest hint of a kiss as his mouth brushes against the soaked folds of your cunt. A breathy whimper escapes you as the tip of his tongue parts your folds, revealing your weeping cunt to him fully.
Neither one of you want to break this moment, barely able to raise your voices to anything above a low whisper.
“Aleksander,” you say, voice cracking.
“Both hands on the headboard,” he orders in a murmur.
Just the action of obeying him, settling both of your hands on the headboard above you, bearing your body to him in total submission, has you teetering on the edge of what you think might be your climax. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself - even longer since someone else has touched you - the idea of an orgasm feels elusive. Yet something violently pleasurable is creeping its way closer.
The motion of his tongue is addictive, a dizzying circle that traces around your sensitive clit. The little bud is swollen and throbbing, every pulse makes you more and more desperate for him.
A tear slips down your cheek as you say his name. His tongue strokes leisurely against your cunt, lapping up the arousal that has gathered from teasing your clit. The moan that rumbles in the back of his throat makes you quiver. It’s mortifying, being so affected by the sound of him.
“I’m close,” you admit.
A weak sob of pleasure and shame threatens to choke you at the thought of being so wanton. Aleksander places his palm over your stomach, a warm and comforting pressure that soaks into your skin even as he pins you down. His tongue licks over your cunt for several beats before he lifts his head from between your thighs. Arousal glosses over his lips and you clench around nothing, breathless at the sight.
“Relax, darling.” He slips his hands beneath you, kneading your ass cheeks purposefully. A sharp groan is dragged out of you as he grasps at the tender flesh. “You’ve been holding all of this inside you for far too long. Now it’s time to let go.”
There’s a roaring in your ears, drowning out every sensation that isn’t the clenching of your cunt as Aleksander suckles greedily on your sensitive clit, his bottom lip grazing against your quivering entrance. The rush of your release smears over his mouth and chin, making a thorough mess of him. Pleasure has stars sparkling over your vision, your limbs tingling with a heady bliss.
Time slips away from you, passing by unnoticed with each heavy breath you take. The world is small, narrowed down to the satisfied weight of your limbs against the mattress. It takes you quite some time to realise you’ve been staring up at the ceiling.
Shakily, you turn onto your side, wide eyes searching frantically for Aleksander. Once you find him beside you, dark eyes warm and safe, the tension in your chest snaps and you burst into tears. Instantly, he pulls you onto him, allowing you to cry against his bare chest.
“It’s alright, darling,” he assures you in a low voice. The sound vibrates in his chest, buzzing against your ear. “I’m so proud of you; you did so well.” He strokes his fingers along your spine, drawing shapes on his way down. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. My brave little starfish.”
He kisses your forehead, nuzzling his nose affectionately against your hairline as his words warm in your chest.
“You should find walking a lot easier now.”
You blink at him, a tear slipping down your cheek as you start to realise something that makes your heart twist.
“Is that why we did this… to make it easier for me to walk?”
He takes a hold of your chin firmly, keeping your eyes locked on his.
“We did this because you are mine, and I refuse to condone you feeling bad about any part of yourself.”
Unable to stop yourself, you climb up his body, straddling his waist as you press your lips against his. He responds instantly, cupping your face with both hands to deepen the kiss. As you grip onto his hair, Aleksander leans forwards to meet you, lowering his hands to squeeze at your calves.
This time, there’s no sense of unease as he touches your legs and you smile into the kiss as his hands wander up your thighs to grasp at your waist, pulling you flush against him. Aleksander smiles as well, tracing his touches up your body.
“We should be heading on our way.” A pout puckers at your lips and he chuckles. “The sooner we find the stag, the sooner we can go home.”
Home with Aleksander. That makes you smile.
»»---------------------►
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205 notes · View notes
shibaraki · 8 months
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NEED NOT ATONE ┊ MIYA ATSUMU
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tags: GN reader, NSFT, established relationship, d/s dynamic, bottom atsumu, mentioned objectification kink, reader on top, dom/top drop, rough sex, hurt/comfort, brief dissociation, dom aftercare, fluff
wc: 1.5K
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Thick is the smell of sex.
There’s an ache in your hips, only slightly. Your nape is clammy where the air clings to it. Dull slaps echo around the room, skin meeting skin in deliberate and repetitive motions, loud even over the ragged sound of his voice.
“More,” Atsumu whines, and holds your gaze as if to beseech you. Begging with his words and his body. Deep honey almost entirely swallowed by the pupil. “Harder. I can take it—”
You are nothing if not generous with Atsumu. It isn’t a habit you can help. There’s an errant pleasure in giving him what he needs, in being the one person to receive that expression, slack in his contentment, looking back as though you were his axis.
Each thrust shoves Atsumu further up the bed. He sobs and the sound gets caught in his throat, a mix of pleasure and pain. You share the sentiment as his fingers dig into your back, because even that small inch between your bodies is too much.
You settle into a rhythm, hard and deep, never letting up on the force, pushing and pushing and pushing until you’re cushioning Atsumu’s crown from the headboard in the crook of your arm. Not once do you touch his cock, left flushed and leaking against his stomach. He wouldn’t want you to. That’s what tonight was about. Atsumu wanted you to take; he wanted to be used, and in turn, to be useful.
“Said I can take it—ah!”
Atsumu cuts himself off with a choked sob as you draw in a sharp breath, hook your hands behind his knees, fold them against his chest and slam into him. You readjust your knees, panting through the burning sensation. It’s satisfying rather than uncomfortable.
There’s a point at which you know he’s well and truly under—when there’s a mauve, dazed look to him, and his inhibitions have come undone enough that he doesn’t care about how he sounds, or who hears him.
And his mouth would start to run away with him.
“Fuck that’s—yeah. Could—ah, do anythin’ to me and I wouldn’t—couldn’t stop ya—” Atsumu’s voice rose in a steady crescendo as he babbled, hands frantically raking over the sheets for purchase. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”.
For reasons you can’t place, a sliver of unease settles into your stomach. Atsumu’s abdomen clenches, hips rocking up to enthusiastically meet your thrusts. You remind yourself he enjoys this. He wants it. And—it isn’t true.
You would stop. And if not he—Atsumu could stop you. If not with his safeword then with his strength.
The panic is pushed to the foreground. Head lolled, panting for breath. You squeeze harshly at the back of Atsumu’s thick thighs and pound into him, losing any semblance of rhythm just so you can fuck him through his orgasm and beyond, the way he needed you to. You watch him topple over the edge, spilling across his stomach. Wanton moans and incantations soon dwindled into helpless whimpers, squirming at the sensitivity. And then a single word broke through.
“Please”.
At that you lift your head, your own arousal receding like the tide and just as swiftly. Atsumu is flushed from root to stem, the colour creeping dark up his throat. Arched into the pillows, his nose turned into your elbow, exposing the damp column of his throat. His chest heaved, red and gleaming with sweat, hips still undulating weakly through the aftershocks. He meets your gaze through barely open eyes.
And again, he sighs a weak, brittle noise, “Please.”
It shrikes through your chest something cold and dreadful. Your pace slows to a stop. You’re buried inside him, lungs stuttering behind your ribs. Gently you release your grip on Atsumu’s quivering thighs and massage small circles into the crescent marks as you lower each leg back down onto the bed.
You’re trembling, not quite at the forefront of your mind. Atsumu is beautiful. He’s glowing, he’s fine. You repeat the mantra in your thoughts until it coalesces into static. Finally, you pull out and smooth your palms over his hips.
“You with me, handsome?” you murmured, keeping the shake out of your voice.
An elated hum. “Ow,” Atsumu grinned, the true image of a man who got what he wanted. “Did you cum? Wait, c’mere,” he continues to hold out his arms and he flops into your embrace, nuzzling against your chest once you settle on your side facing him. “Wow, that—think ya fucked the sense right outta me”.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and closed your eyes. Breath in, count to six, and out. Atsumu is happy.
Then why do you feel so nauseous? Why is pressure building behind your eyes?
“Hey,” you hear distantly. “Baby?”
Atsumu’s whimper echoed in your mind. Please, he’d begged. Please what?
“…Yer heartbeat is really fast…”
Your eyelids squeezed tighter as if it would squash the emotions bubbling within you. You know what it means. It meant please, more. It meant please, keep going. It meant feels nice, please, don’t stop. It meant please—
Stop. Please stop.
Could—ah, do anythin’ to me and I wouldn’t—couldn’t stop ya—
“Angel!” Atsumu’s frantic voice breaks the dissociative state you’d wound yourself into. You blink, blurred vision adjusting to the figure now looming over you. At some point he’d lifted his head and propped himself up on his elbow. His hand is kneading at your waist, sliding along your spine, over your shoulder and down the length of your arm to envelop your fingers. There’s a frown etched into his brow as he brings them to his lips and kisses each fingertip.
“Atsumu,” you rasp, overwhelmed at the awareness that crashes over you. Gone is the sated, smug smile. His jaw is trembling. There’s a lost sheen to his eyes, wide and searching. You take him into your hands, stroking your thumbs in a pendulum motion along his warm cheeks. “Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I? I didn’t push too far?”
“What?” Atsumu croaks. The bridge of his nose wrinkles at the fragile sound, or perhaps at the idea that you would harm him at all. “No? No. Course not, baby. A bit sore maybe—” he falters, not wanting to misstep and worry you further, and he swallows thickly.
“But the good type, yeah? I—I promise. Was so, so good to me,” he dips, peppers kisses across your face, lingering at the corner of your mouth. You turn to capture his lips and he surges forward, as if to impress everything he was struggling to reassure you of into a single kiss. The knot in your chest loosens a little, some of the panic ebbing.
“Talk t’me,” he murmured against your cheek. “I’m—I’m not as good as you at this bit. Wanna make it better”.
“Water,” you manage to whisper. Atsumu jerks into action immediately, rolling over to grab the bottled water you set on the bedside table only an hour earlier. He kneels at your side and untwists the cap as you move up the headboard into a sitting position, pulse hammering in your throat.
“Here,” he holds the open top toward you, giving no indication that he’ll let you drink it yourself. You can’t help but smile as you lean up to take a few much needed sips. He draws back when you’re done, screwing the cap back on and letting it be lost in the covers. Plush, velvety softness drapes across your legs as he throws his blanket over your naked lower half. “Should I—want me to get ya something to eat?”
This time it is your turn to beckon him. “Not right now,” you reply, outstretched to take him back into your arms. “I just need to… Can I cuddle you?”
Atsumu visibly softens in the low light. He crawls into the clammy cradle your body forms without complaint, and automatically returns to rubbing his hands along your back. “S’better?” he asks with obvious restraint.
“A lot better. Thank you ‘Tsumu,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his hair. Atsumu relaxes then, and his weight covers you entirely as he lets the tension bleed from his muscles. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” you added quietly.
“Don’t apologise for that,” he scolds, though his speech is mumbled, and has little impact. You ground yourself in the sensation of his ribs expanding around each steady breath, and the petal light kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw. “Ya didn’t hurt me, angel. Yer always taking care of me. Makin’ me feel good and pullin’ me outta my head. Let me do the same”.
A shaky inhale. You take a moment to bask in the calm and let your heart settle. “Will you shower with me in a bit? Let me look you over?”
Atsumu hums an affirmative noise. It’s low, supple, and dangerously close to sleepy. “Tell me what made ya feel bad, while we’re in there?”
You hold him tighter, overcome by an unbearable fondness. Not for the first time, you feel blessed to have him. “Sure, baby. Promise”.
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thegettingbyp2 · 1 year
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Yes, You Can
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Requested by - @queenraptor2018
Part 2 of I Could Recognise You Anywhere
You noticed two things when you came around; 1) you were lying flat on your back and 2) there was a dull throbbing pain in the side of your neck. Bringing your hand up to lightly touch your neck, you couldn’t help the sharp gasp that left your throat when you pulled your hand away to reveal a couple dots of blood staining your fingertips.
‘You’re awake?’ a familiar voice spoke from your side, relief colouring the voice. You turned your head gingerly to see Jasper sitting on the floor, knees drawn to his chest and his hands tightly gripping his hair as he watched you cautiously. Looking at him made all the memories of before you passed out flood back to you and you sat up and quickly pressed your back against the wall opposite Jasper, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
‘You bit me?’ you said, your voice coming out as a question.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Jasper replied and even though you knew you should be scared, you couldn’t help your heart break a little at how broken he sounded. ‘You were bleeding and I still haven’t fully gotten control of myself yet and I thought about how you’re mine and the next thing I knew, you were passed out and I was terrified I’d killed you.’
‘What happened to you, Jas?’ you asked, watching as his eyes closed painfully as you used your old childhood nickname for him. You sat in rapt silence as Jasper explained to you about meeting Maria and what she did to him but you still couldn’t bring yourself to be scared. If anything, you’d felt a rush of heat between your legs when you heard him say that you were his.
‘Everything’s changed now, (Y/N),’ he whispered, his eyes staring into yours with a haunted expression. ‘Nothing can be the same anymore.’
‘That’s not true,’ you said, moving closer to him until you were practically seated in his lap. Your hand came up to cup his jaw, a shiver quickly running through you at the feel of his ice-cold skin against your palm. ‘Just like you said, I’m still yours, that’s never going to change.’
You leaned in slightly with the intention of pressing your lips against his, only to be stopped by Jasper’s hands holding you at arm’s length away. ‘(Y/N), I can’t. I want to, I really do, but I can’t,’ he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.
‘Yes, you can. I trust you,’ you whispered back before leaning in to gently brush your lips across his. Almost as if a switch flipped in him, the next thing you knew Jasper had you pressed up against the wall, his mouth pressing insistently against yours, his tongue snaking into your mouth, the both of you groaning into the others mouths.
‘I need you,’ Jasper moaned into your mouth, his fingers dancing along the waistband of your trousers.
‘Then take me,’ you replied simply, your own hands making quick work of his belt and pushing his trousers down enough to free his cock, a small whimper escaping your throat when you realised that he hadn’t been wearing any underwear.
Jasper pressed a gentle kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder before pressing his forehead against your skin as he slowly pushed into you, making sure that he wouldn’t hurt you, still not used to his new-found strength. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he began to slowly thrust.
‘Jasper, please,’ you whimpered brokenly, needing more, ‘I won’t break, I promise.’
That seemed to be all Jasper needed to hear because as soon as the words left your mouth, Jasper’s hips started to move at an inhuman pace against yours and your head hit the wall behind you with a heavy thunk as moans that were impossible to quieten erupted from your body.
Jasper’s head was buried in your neck and the shaking of his body against yours told you that he was using every bit of strength in his body to not bite you again. You slid your hands up his back until your fingers were tangled in his hair. ‘Bite me,’ you managed to speak through a moan, causing Jasper’s head to snap up to meet your eyes as his thrusts slowed.
‘What? No, (Y/N), I could lose control. I could kill you. I can’t.’ He said, fear written in his eyes.
‘Yes, Jasper you can, you’ll be fine. I trust you!’
Jasper’s hips began to snap into yours once again before you felt a sharp pain in your neck as his teeth sunk into your skin and that was all it took for the both of you to reach the end, falling into each other simultaneously as you let your orgasms wash over your body. Pulling away from your neck, you saw blood coating the corners of his lips and, not sure of what washed over you, you pressed your lips against his again.
The look on Jaspers face when you pulled away wore an expression that you could only describe as pure adoration and in that moment, you both knew that everything was going to be okay.
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burst-of-iridescent · 2 months
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atla live action thoughts: season one review
first things first: anyone who says the Movie That Does Not Exist is better than the live action is straight-up lying. the shymalan film fails on the criteria of even being a decent movie, let alone an adaptation. the netflix series, for all its problems, is at least an enjoyable watch with great effects, music and (mostly) appropriate casting. there's absolutely nothing to compare here - the netflix version clears easily.
now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's delve into the series, starting with the positives.
the good:
visuals and cinematography. they really did a great job of making it feel like a fantasy universe you wanted to be in & i love how vibrant the saturation and colour grading was. it made the world feel so much more dynamic and alive instead of the same flat, boring dullness that so many movies and shows have these days. sometimes i didn't even mind that i was being fed obvious exposition because at least they were giving me something pretty to look at lmao
effects and action. the bending was surprisingly good for the most part, and they did a good job of making the elements feel unique through the stunt choreography and the actors' movements. i'm immensely thankful they didn't try to skimp on budget by merely cutting away from fight scenes or showing us as little as possible. almost all the action sequences were fast-paced and engaging, and i was never bored watching them
acting. the main four were all great, but gordon cormier and dallas liu have to be the standouts for me. gordon brings such an earnest, innocent sweetness to aang that you can't help but like him, and dallas plays all of zuko's facets perfectly: the angst, the explosive anger, the bratty snark, and especially the deep-rooted pain that characterizes so many of zuko's actions in book 1. the range he has, especially when flashing from younger to older zuko, was insane. special shoutout to maria zhang and sebastian amoruso as suki and jet respectively, because they killed it
music. leaves from the vine instrumental had me tearbending and i love how they kept the iconic avatar theme while making it a little darker for this iteration of the story. in general, the soundtrack felt very true to the animation while still being a fresh spin on it
zuko and iroh's relationship and expanding on zuko's crew. i think the fandom universally agrees that lu ten's funeral and zuko's crew being the 41st division were the best changes in the series, so i'm not going to talk about it further other than to say that these scenes show me what the show can be, and that's why i'm not giving up on it
the bad:
characterization. almost all the main characters are missing the little nuances that made them so great in the original, but the greatest casualty is katara. i hate that they took away so much of her rage, and gave many of her traits and struggles to sokka. i don't think this is a problem solely with the writing though, because certain lines do feel like things animated katara would say, but the directing and line delivery don't have the same punch that made her so fierce in the original. this is an easily fixed issue though, so i hope they take the criticism and let my girl be angry and fuck shit up next season
exposition. this was primarily a problem in depicting aang's personality and the relationship between the gaang, because a) why are you TELLING me that aang is mischievous and fun-loving instead of just showing me and b) the gaang do NOT feel like close friends, mostly because they spend so much time apart in every episode that they have little screentime to actually bond and develop intimacy.
lack of focus on the intricacies of bending. for a show whose tagline is "master your element" the characters spend very little time actually... mastering their element. zuko is never shown to struggle with firebending (which is going to have ramifications when it comes to developing his relationship with azula), and neither aang nor katara ever learn waterbending from a master throughout the the entire show. i'm pretty sure aang never willingly waterbends ONCE in the entire eight episodes, discounting the avatar state and koizilla. bending isn't just cool martial arts, it's closely linked to the philosophies and spirituality of each nation, and i wish that had been explored more.
pacing. they really needed to do a better job of conveying that time passed between episodes because an 8-episode season is just going to FEEL shorter than a 20-episode one. the original animation felt as though they'd truly been on a long journey before arriving at the north, but here it feels like the entire show happened in the span of a fortnight or so because each episode seemed to pick up right after the previous. they needed to have more downtime within episodes instead of just rushing from plot beat to plot beat because it made everything feel a lot more rushed. give the characters and story time to breathe.
final rating: 7/10.
overall, i would describe the live action as a better version of the percy jackson movies - not an accurate or perfect adaptation, but a decent story that's very fun to watch. but what really makes me root for this show to get a season 2 is that it has a lot of potential and more importantly, a lot of heart. it's evident that the people who worked on it do genuinely love and respect the original series, and it shows onscreen.
regardless of anything else, this show created opportunities for so many asian and indigenous actors, writers and creators to tell the kinds of stories and play the kinds of roles they don't usually get, and that's something worth supporting. if they take the criticism from this season and improve, i believe they really do have something special on their hands which - although it might not be the original we all know and love - could still be a story to be proud of.
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Keith can play the electric guitar, and shiro can play the drums, and Adam was an exceptional vocalist. Before everything went to shit shiro and Keith used to joke about how they would form a family band if the whole space thing didn't work out.
When shiro left, Adam encouraged Keith to keep playing as a hobby. When shiro went missing, Keiths passion for it staggered, but he continued playing because he wanted to show shiro how much better he'd gotten when he would come back- because shiro was going to come back. He had too
When Adam passed away, Keith gave up entirely. Maybe it was out of spite. Maybe he didn't see any point in practising anymore. Maybe the memory of better days was just too painful to revisit. Keith couldn't give you a reason. He'd really given up on all his hobbies and interests. Anything that wasn't directly needed to help him find shiro wasn't worth the effort.
He knew shiro would hate that. But shiro was the one who left. So did he really have any say in how Keith chose to ruin his nights finding him? Keith didn't think he did.
But its years later now and theyve all found their way back to earth, ready for one last mission before the end of the line comes into sight. Keith walks into his room for the first time in years to find shiro already sitting on his bed.
Hands cradling the dust covered guitar. The strings were britle from years of sitting in a corner and its once pristine glossy red finish had been replaced by the dulling of sun damage.
If the instrument could speak, it would curse him to the ends of the earth for abandoning it the same way he was abandoned - and Keith would let it.
Still, shiro smiles at him, handing over the guitar to his brother. "You still play?" He asks as if he doesn't already know the answer.
Keith feels like he's a kid again. He doesn't want to disappoint but he doesn't want to lie either. "Not really"
Shiro gets up to uncover all the old equipment from under the sheets. Keith can see the dust partials flying in the sunbeam that's shining through the blinds. He watches shrio plug everything in, the lights on the tuner take a while to flicker on but they get their eventually.
Keith remembered how he'd kept shiros drumsticks even though Adam had thrown out his drum set one night in a fit or rage. He'd cried all night after that, Keith remembered trying to comfort him to no avail. Little hands trying to wipe away the endless pools of tears that streamed down Adams face. He doesn't like thinking about it.
He walks over to his bedside drawer. It takes a bit of strength to wriggle the old thing open, but when he does, he's pleased to see they're still there. Shiros favourite pair of purple drumsticks. Adams favourite colour. Keith remembered, and he knows shiro can't forget.
"Aha!" Shrio cheers, and Keith is pulled back into the present. When he turns around, he finds shiro standing over the equipment. Overly satisfied with himself for still remembering how to set it up. "Still got it," he says, brushing his shoulder. Keith can't help but chuckle.
Keith holds up the drumsticks and he loves the way shiros face lights up ."Oh my god! you kept them?!" He cheers.
"Theyre all I could manage to hide from adam" Keith replies as shiro takes them out of his hand. He did not mean for it to sound as miserable as it came out.
Shrio smiles ever so softly as he turns them over in his hands. "It's okay," he says. Keith knows exactly what he's thinking about. it's an odd feeling to be able to know someone this well.
Shiro takes in a sharp breath before looking back up at keith. That excited spark finds its way back into his eyes as he pushes the guitar into Keith's chest. "Your turn." he smirks, patting him on the shoulder. "Show me what you've got"
Keith stands there for a moment like a deer in headlights. It's been years since he's even held the guitar in his hands. He's not sure if he's "got" anything left.
"Shiro I don't-"
"Oh come on!! I'm sure you've still got it just give it a try"
It's an even worse feeling being known this well. Keith doesn't know what to do with it.
He carefully slings the strap over his head. He's sure the dust will leave a mark on his jacket.
"Okay, but don't laugh if I suck." he points his pick at shiro, who holds up a finger to his lips in response, but Keith can already see the laugh creeping up on his face
Keith readjusts the guitar to try and get a better grip. Something doesn't feel right. He fiddles around with it a little longer. He holds up the pick and strums a few chords, but they don't sound right. He tries to tune them, strums the chords again, readjust the strap again-
"You need to try Keith," shiro finally says. "You won't know if you can play if you don't even try"
Keith looks back at his brother. It's been nearly a decade since he last heard shiro say that. He prays to any higher power that will listen to not let his eyes give away how those words make him feel now. He doesn't think anyone is listening.
Keith takes in the deepest breath before holding the guitar again. He tries to smile. "Okay, any requests?"
Shrio taps his chin in thought, "How about Bowie?" He recommends "life on Mars? Or maybe rebel rebel? You used to love those songs"
"I might remember rebel rebel," he says mostly to himself. He strums a few chords trying to remember the riff of the songs. It takes a few attempts, but he gets it eventually.
Keith hums the lyrics he doesn't remember and the ones he does he attempts to sing
Rebel rebel, you've torn your dress
Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Shiro joins in the chours. Well- he certainly makes an attempt
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp! I love you so!
Somewhere between the awful singing and questionable guitar playing, keith finds himself lost in the music. His head rocks back and forth, and he's sure his hair is a mess but he feels like he's floating. He feels like he's 14 again. He feels like they're back in shiros garage on a hot summer day and the sound of drumsticks beating on his desk turns into drums actually being played, and Adams is about to walk through the door any moment now and grab the mic.
When the song finally ends, keith finds himself laughing in excitement. When he opens his eyes again, the drums have turned back into a desk, and the mic is nowhere to be found, but Keith is still smiling. He's got it.
He's still got it
"See" Shrio cheers, pulling Keith out of his head the for second time that afternoon "I told you"
"That was awesome," Keith says, pushing his hair out of his face as he pulls the guitar off. He wants to hug it and tell it he's sorry for leaving. Shiro will think he's lost his mind, but it's totally worth it.
When he looks back at shiro, he's giving him the fondest smile. Keith suddenly feels a knot forming his stomach, he's only seen shiro make that face twice his whole life. Once when Keith got his fighter pilot rank at the garrison and second when he was selected for the kerberos mission.
He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again and suddenly slings his arm around Keith's neck, pulling him down to ruffle his hair even further. Keith tries to protest, but every word just comes out as a laugh. "Look at you," shrio says amidst their play fight. "When did you get this cool, huh?"
Keith finally manages to pull away, stumbling a little before finding his balance again. "I've always been this cool," he retorts, trying to card his fingers through his hair. "You just refused to notice it before"
"Nope no I'm pretty sure this is a recent development" shiro mocks,
Keith rolls his eyes but the smile his still apparent on his lips "whatever" he says, crossing his arms over his chest
He's thrown slightly off balance again when shiro throws his arm around his shoulders. But this time, he only gently pulls him into a side hug as they walk out of the room. "Well, at least we still know one thing for sure"
"And whats that" Keith asks walking in tow
Shiro shrugs, one hand around his brother the other in his pocket "if this space thing doesn't work out, we've still got the band" he winks
Keith shakes his head laughing "and are we taking audtions for a new vocalist?"
"No need to, I've already got someone in mind" shiro replies "have you heard lance sing?"
"Lance can sing???"
"Oh that boy was built for a stage"
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writing-rat · 3 months
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There is No Escape
Pairing: Amber x Tara
Content: Strap on sex, Dominant Amber, Submissive Tara, CNC, Kidnapping situation, 18+ content
Summary: Tara is walking home, unaware of what a classmate would do...
WC: 992
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Tara yawned, walking home after visiting a friend. She was tired and was ready to sleep, wanting to get ready for school tomorrow. Just as she passed an alleyway, she was suddenly grabbed. She let out a yelp as she tried to get away quickly but the person was too strong. “Stay still,” a raspy voice spoke in her ear. She stayed still, knowing her life was at the mercy of this mysterious person. “Good girl, now you are going to follow me, and if you run I will stab you,” the girl spoke, the dull side of the knife against her leg. Tara gulped, nodding. She knew she wasn’t going anywhere, especially with her asthma, and how bad it was.
The person went forwards and she just saw the clothes. This woman was taller than her, she had on boots, some black jeans and a tight, green shirt. She also had on a hat, hiding her looks as well as some sunglasses and a face mask. Tara followed behind, being led to a house. She knew this house. It was Stu Macher’s house. She knew that she was going to know too much, that she wouldn’t be allowed to leave. That’s when the taller girl unlocked the door, making Tara enter first. Tara did as told, nervousness in her eyes as the girl kept her disguise on. That’s when she saw the bulge in the girl’s jeans when she removed her glasses, mask and hat. If it wasn’t obvious enough to Tara by the house, then it was now. It was Amber Freeman who had taken her.
“Go up to my room, I need to grab a few things. If I found out you tried to escape, I will get you. You got it, baby?” she demanded. Tara nodded fearfully before she scrambled upstairs, knowing where Amber’s bedroom already was. She had been to a party here a few times after all. Eventually, she was in her room and just sat down on the bed, not knowing what Amber wanted from her. She knew that she wouldn’t be found at all. Soon enough Amber was back inside the room and smirked at Tara. “Good girl,” she spoke, tilting her head. There was something different this time and Tara knew what it was. She had a rope in her pocket just in case she misbehaved she assumed. “Now strip for me,” she growled and Tara did as told, not removing her undergarments just yet. 
“I need you to also take them off, you don’t want to be punished after all,” she spoke. Tara nodded again, staying silent before she took them off, her whole body revealed now. Amber loved that. “Now lay down,” she commanded. Tara did as told, she was soaking wet and Amber could tell immediately. “Such a pretty girl,” she cooed, rubbing a finger up her thigh. “Please, let me go,” she whimpered and Amber shook her head. “You know too much,” Amber reasoned out and started to tug off her jeans then, revealing a strap. “8 inches long. Let’s see if you can handle it, hm?” she teased, laying her body down on Tara. 
“Colour?” she whispered in Tara’s ear. “Green,” Tara responded, kissing her softly. Amber smiled, breaking character as she kissed her gently before she got back in character. She immediately pushed into Tara, entering it inside fully. Tara gasped, arching her back. She was thankful that they were loosened up. They had this planned out before after all, but Tara didn’t know what size Amber would use. It was a surprise once she was fully in, no safeword was spoken out so Amber thrusted in and out at a moderate and gentle pace. Tara was gasping and moaning, pain and pleasure mixed in but it was mainly pleasure that went out. She loved it, she loved adjusting to it. She loved everything that was going on.
Tara in character meanwhile let out tears and begged Amber to stop. “Please, stop it. I’ll do anything else,” Tara begged. Amber just smirked and kissed her, stopping her talking as she moaned in the kiss. The strap-on was stimulating her clit after all. She was thrusting harder and faster inside her, Tara was holding onto the bed tight and gripping it, letting the abuse happen. She had no way to stop it, it was clear what Amber wanted. She just had to accept it. Amber was soon marking Tara’s neck up, smirking while doing so as she was thrusting harder and faster. Tara was letting out whines more and more as Amber was getting harder inside, grunting herself as she felt more pressure against her clit.
Tara was getting louder, signalling she was about to cum. Amber smirked, rubbing Tara’s clit harder as she was thrusting faster than she ever had before. Tara let out a cry before she came, clenching around the strap while Amber pressed against her, cumming too but she was able to hide it. “My precious little girl,” she purred. Tara panted, nodding. “Want to stop now, hm? Get some food and water?” Amber asked, and Tara looked at her. “Please,” she spoke with a soft smile. Amber immediately stopped the character then, seeing how Tara was reacting to everything. She slowly pulled out. “You were such a good girl. So hot as well,” she spoke, kissing Tara’s cheek before she rubbed her arms gently and smiled at her girlfriend. “Thank you,” she responded while Amber clothed her gently, and then picking her up. She held onto Amber, who was surprisingly strong, while they walked to the kitchen. “You were good too,” Tara hummed, not having the energy to talk. She kissed Amber’s cheek.
 
Amber just smiled, setting her down on a seat as she was getting some ready meals and some water for them. Tara smiled, seeing how soft her girlfriend was. She felt loved and wanted. She could live like this forever.
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Text
Wasted 4
Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.
Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥
Part of The Club AU
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You babble mindlessly as your head lolls against the man's shoulder. Your limbs are heavy and light at the same time, your eyelids flutter and droop, the alleyway skewing with your vision. He forces you closer to the wall, nudging you away from him so you fall into it.
You grasp at the brick, tongue sticky but dry, moving as if you're wading through water. You can barely keep your feet flat as your head spins.
His snicker rolls around the alley and reverberates in your ears. Your eyes close as you hear a rustle and the harsh scrape of his sole. You shake your head but it only makes it worse.
You slip down to your knees, crawling as you search for a semblance of steadiness. Everything is limned in shadows, there are no solid lines, and your hands smear into the tarmac. You feel a hard boot on your ass and fly forward, sprawling on your chest.
He steps over you, a foot one either side, and bends.
"I coulda been nice," he slithers as he snatches up the back of your skirt. He spanks your ass, exposed around the thin string of your thong. "Looks like you weren't looking to be nice, huh?"
He drops to his knees, straddling you. You squirm and reach out, gravel jabbing into your palms. You hear voices and the dull drone of music.
Silhouettes approach the mouth of the alley and you cry out. Your pathetic slurring is smothered in his rough palm. He leans over you and shushes against your crown.
"Faye!" You recognise Heidi’s voice, "where're you going? We have to find her."
"You know how she is," Faye retorts, "always fucking off when it fits her."
"S'not fair. You do it too."
"And you," Faye accuses the whine, "fine, we'll look again, ugh."
They clomp away on their heels as you writhe and whimper against the man's grasp. He looms over you, laughing quietly as he keeps your mouth clamped beneath his hand. He pets your head as your fingers scratch futilely on the pavement.
"Seems like your friends are missing you," he taunts, "better make this fast."
He slides his hand between your bodies, angling himself lower as the rough denim of his jeans chafes on your skin. He shifts and tilts his hips, bringing out his hard tip and crushing it against your ass. He guides his dick between your thighs, keeping them apart with his wide hand.
He turns his wrist, framing your cunt with his thick fingers. He pulls your thong to the side and it catches in the crease of your leg. He prods you bluntly, rocking as he tries to dip inside. 
He grunts as your body resists. You squeeze your eyes shut at the pressure. You puff out through your nose as he enters you, his dry intrusion hot and painful. You kick your legs, toes bouncing off the ground. 
The agony swirls in your skull. You lean your head against your hand, the strength draining from you slowly. You can feel the world fading, little by little. Edges soften, colour wash out, and your body feels less and less like your own.
He thrusts, rousing you slightly. Your head snaps up at the torturous tide. He does it again, harder, chuckling as he feels the tension constricts through you. He rocks his hips, short strokes, each time dropping his pelvis as hard as he can.
Your eyes prick, further obscuring the dwindling scene before you. The alley stretches ahead of you, a club full of people right through the brick wall beside you, so close, yet so far. You hear the front door open and shadows cast over you as a group passes by the opening of the alley. They don’t and can’t know what’s happening to you. Right there.
He ruts into you, his breath tinging the back of your ear, scalding you as it clouds around you. You pant into his palm, head hanging lower and lower. He slams into you again, over and over, your walls clenching with each intrusion.
“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, hottie,” he teases, “I’m not even close to done.”
You moan and snake your hand back to grab at him blindly. You clutch a fistful of his jacket, begging silently for it to end. The gravel mulches against your thighs, stabbing your tender skin, sticking to it as he fucks you into the pavement.
You give in to the hollowness of your body. Your head droops against his grasp and your eyes wander to the stinking dumpster only a foot away. That’s exactly what you are. Trash. He’ll use you and toss you away. Just like that.
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sequincult · 3 months
Text
Return of the Floyd AU
(Floyd returns to join his brothers but only finds a teenage grey Branch, who is not too happy to see him.)
The years since Floyd left have not been easy on him. His solo career tanked, his boyfriend left after Floyd’s Brozone money dried up, and now he has nowhere to go. He spent years living in the woods, searching for wherever the Trolls ended up once they’d escaped the Bergens. After a very long time, he finally finds them. But not everything is how he’d imagined. He makes his way into the village, and asks for help from a very pink troll.
Floyd coyly walks up to her. “Hi, excuse me? Could you help me find someone?” 
“Oh hi there! I don’t think I’ve seen you around before?? Luckily for you I know just about everyone in this village!! Who are you looking for?”
Floyd’s eyes dart around, overwhelmed at her energy. “I’m uh looking for my brothers! They’re-”
 Suddenly a voice beckons from behind the trees.
“They’re not here.” A figure emerges. It’s Branch. Stood next to Poppy he may as well be in black and white. The only colour on his body being his jacket, a jacket Floyd immediately recognises as his own.
Poppy raises an eyebrow. “Oh just ignore him, he doesn-“
But before she can even finish, Floyd’s eyes light up. “Baby Branch!!”
He runs towards him, arms wide open for a hug, but stops in his tracks after noticing Branch’s appearance.
 “Wait, what happened to you? You look so dull, and your eyes are so…”
“So what? Wrinkled? Ugly? Grey? Hey, nice to see you too.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Sensing a moment of tension, Poppy interrupts. 
“Wait wait wait, branch! you have a brother?”
Branch frowns and shakes his head. “Hey can you stay out of this? It has nothing to do with you.”
“Oh ok. Right… I’ll go.”
Poppy sighs and leaves with her head held low.
After a deep breath, Branch continues.
“So Floyd, if you’re wondering why I look like this, maybe it’s because all of my brothers abandoned me. Maybe it’s because none of the other trolls understand. Not a single one of them know how it’s feels to be totally alone.”
“But, what about Grandma? I thought she’d take care of you. W-where is she?”
Branch shakes and grits his teeth.
“SHE DIED FLOYD”
His eyes shoot to the ground. His hands squeezed tightly.
“She died, and I was the only one who could have saved her… a-and I failed.”
Floyd takes a step back. He can struggles to breathe as he feels the weight of his mistakes filling his chest like lead.
“So you. Were alone.” 
Branch loses his temper, screaming as his tears poured down his face.
“OF COURSE I’D END UP ALONE. WHAT DID YOU THINK? SHE’D LIVE FOREVER?”
“I.. I…thought…”
Branch interrupts: “Whatever it is you thought was wrong. Why did you even come back anyway.”
 “I just wanted to see my brothers again and-”
“Well bad news. None of the others came back. It’s just me. And right now I’m really wishing you’d leave.”
“Branch please, I’m sorry just listen to me”
“Nope. I’m leaving you this time, and I’m going home. Don’t follow me unless you wanna die in a bear trap. Bye.” Branch turns his back and hastily stomps away.
Floyd curls up on the ground, alone. Thousands of thoughts are racing through his mind. How could this have happened? He’d never seen a troll look so desaturated. That’s when he notices. Out of the corner of his eye. His hand is turning grey.
He starts panicking, his breathing accelerates. 
“No, no, no. What’s happening.”
His anxiety is only stopped by a sudden scream.
“HEY FLOYD!!!!!” A head appears from the bushes. It’s… Poppy?
“FLOYD are you OK? Your name is Floyd right?” She looks down and screams. “OHMYGOSHYOURHAND!. What do I do what do I do??? Uh, try and think about like, flowers and rainbows and stuff?
Even through the pain Floyd can’t help but roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, but that’s not really helping right now. And were you… listening to us in the bushes? That’s kinda creepy.”
Poppy smiles. “Well, it is my duty as princess to help every trolls problem. Even if it involves being kinda creepy”
Floyd seems a little surprised. “Oh, you’re the princess here?”
Poppy immediately realises she hasn’t actually introduced herself yet. “Oh my goodness how RUDE of me! I’m Poppy, princess of Troll village and your new best friend! I’ll take you to my Dad, he might know what to do. Let me help you up.”
She holds out her hand. (part 2)
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