Max has always been jealous of Charles. His family loves him even when he loses, he's charming, he's pretty. He's the best, and maybe only, competition Max has.
But it's not just jealousy Max feels.
Even worse: Charles seems to feel it, too.
🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄
chapter 8: just feed me love and give it time
“You are panicking again,” Charles mutters against his skin. “It’s going to be okay. What is your biggest worry?”
Max thinks about all of his worries. He has an ongoing list, one that has only grown since he read Charles’ journal:
- Charles won’t feel the same once he wins a WDC
- Charles will feel the same once he wins a WDC, but Max won’t
- They will both feel the same, but their families/friends/teams/media/fans won’t allow them to be together
- They are good at fucking, but not dating
- They are good at dating, but get bored
- They are bad at dating, and get bored with fucking
- They have to stay a secret for so long they both resent each other
- One of them does something stupid in a race
- Both of them do something stupid in a race
- They have to fight each other for a WDC and it ruins their relationship
And more than all of those things combined, he worries that he will have to face his father and tell him the truth: That he has loved Charles Leclerc for a long time and would rather give up racing for the rest of his life than miss the chance to be with him.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Figure Skater!Reader (fem)
Series word count: 115.4k
Summary: As you train for nationals, your life is turned upside down when several young athletes, including your friend Leah, suddenly go missing and end up dead. The BAU is brought in to investigate, led by unit chief Aaron Hotchner. You're drawn to Hotch as the case unfolds, but when Leah’s body is discovered on the very ice where you train, the danger hits a little too close to home. Now, with a killer on the loose, you're pulled deeper into the chaos, where fear, passion, and the investigation collide in unexpected ways.
Pairing: Prince Hyunjin x Reader (AFAB)
Summary: You and the prince finally become one.
Word Count: 2k+ [Reading Time: 9+ Mins]
Genre: Historical, Fantasy, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty, Angst, Smut, NSFW tags are below.
AU: Prince, Royal, Supernatural
NETS: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society
Synopsis:
Authors Note: Please reblog or leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. As per usual, this hasn't been proofread. Special thanks to @saradika-graphics for some of the dividers.
Mentions: Descriptions of sexual activity. Please be safe out there and wrap it up. No protection, PIV Sex, Loss of virginity.
Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.
Clothes were strewn all over the room. A tell-tell sign of lovers being too excited to calmly undress. Hushed whispers were being shared as the exciting moment surged between the two of them. This was a first for both him and her. Nerves climbed up the prince's spine as he laid you down in the middle of his borrowed bed. “My gods you’re absolutely rashivishing.” He spoke softly, taking in your naked body now bathed in moonlight that cascaded in from the open window. The thin sheer curtains billowed in as a soft gust of wind blew fresh air into the open room.
Hyunjin could never really say he’d felt the feelings that he's feeling at this moment. There was this overwhelming sense of need, paired with the feeling of fluttering in his heart and stomach. He was happy, that much evident by the wide smile on his face. This sensation was almost foreign to the young prince. He wanted nothing more than to rip his heart out of his chest and hand it to you, because it was yours to take. He settled between your legs, unsure of what to do next. His first time ever with a woman was with you and all he’d managed to accomplish was getting you to come from him using mouth and fingers. He tried his best to think of all the things he books said he should do, but he was coming up blank.
Everything he’d read was from a female perspective, how was he supposed to know what to do with himself? No book he read ever explained that. He was at a loss, so to speak. That was until your hand wrapped around his hardened member. Your hands were warm, contrasting with the cool night air that flowed in the room. He groaned as your warm fingers traced the tip. He’d touched himself many times, but it didn’t feel like this. The feeling of your hand wrapped around him, your lips leaving searing kisses on his skin, all of it was indescribable. He wanted to touch you back, give you the same feeling you were giving him, but all thoughts left his head when your tongue grazed his nipple. His shaky hands flew to your face, gently pulling you away so that his lips could replace his skin.
The feverish kiss warmed his whole body, his hot skin now matching yours. He chased your lips as you pulled back, a small smile on your face. “Can.. I repay your kindness?” Hyunjin looked at you confused. What kindness? He felt he only took from you and Minho. You’d saved his life, taught him how to fight, while Minho taught him how to be a man that takes care of himself. What kindness had he given you? “For the other night, I mean.” If his face wasn’t already flushed, he was sure he’d be as bright as a red currant. That was pure self indulgence on his part. He wanted to taste you for himself, have you for himself. It was partially based on paying back all the things you’d done for him, but the rest of it was for him.
Maybe it was the way you were looking up at him with those hypnotizing eyes, that made him relent. He wanted this to be for the both of you. Him being your first and you being his. But how could he tell you no? The word didn’t even seem to be in his vocabulary when it came to you. For you it would always be a yes. One thousand times, yes. He nodded, unable to speak the words aloud, afraid his voice wouldn’t sound like his own. With his permission, your lips moved from his lips to his jaw, peppering soft kisses from there to his neck. “I've.. only read about this…” you spoke softly, eyes connecting with his own as you moved your face closer to his crotch. “You've.. touched yourself before, right?” There was the glimmer of both hope and mischief in your eyes and a playful smirk on your beautiful lips.
He could feel the flush moving up his neck to his face. Here he was naked in front of the woman he liked, and yet for some strange reason, her asking him if he’d pleasured himself made him shy. He nodded, once again afraid his voice would fail him. “How?” You pressed a soft kiss to his thigh as your hand wrapped around his member. He couldn’t help or stop the moan that slipped past his lips. Touching himself had been a cure for boredom and also for any pent up emotions he was dealing with. But his hands never elicited that type of reaction. Your warm touch spread all over his body, like your hands were all over him. It had totally slipped his mind that you’d asked him a question. “Hyunjin, my prince, how do you touch yourself?”
His mind was all foggy, every blurry distorted image was a reflection of you. He knew you were asking for guidance, for him to help you get him off. But he was in a daze, just off of a few simple touches from you, there was no way he’d survive you doing anything else. You grabbed his hand with your free one, wrapping his hand over yours like a glove. “Show me.” A shiver went down his spine. Your words felt like molten lava cascading over his skin. He whimpered as he slowly started guiding your hand up and down his shaft. Your grip was neutral, tentative. He had no doubt you were unsure of what to do, he tightened his hand around yours, making you squeeze just a bit tighter for him.
“Sp-spit..” He choked out, his eyes set on you. Your brows were furrowed, bottom lip tucked between your teeth in concentration. It was honestly the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed. But when you looked up at him he nearly blew his load. This learning moment would have to wait for another time, he needed you closer, he desperately needed to be inside of you. A feeling he’d never felt, but something he was longing for. He shook his head, letting your hand go. You looked at him confused with a hint of panic that you’d done something wrong. But when he bent down for his lips to meet yours, his deliciously plum lips, messily crashing against your own, you knew it was something more than you doing something wrong. He was in need of something else. “I- I don’t need all of that. I just.. I want to make love to you.” Your eyes softened as you looked at him. He couldn’t help the soft smile that graced his lips as you nodded in agreement. “Lie back for me.”
You obliged, grabbing one of the down pillows and putting it under your head as you laid back. The moonlight painted your skin in its blueish-white light. You looked ethereal laying in the middle of his bed like this. His nerves were beginning to come back, he noticed the slight tremor of his hands as he ran them over your skin. You were this softness he needed to blanket him from the harsh world he'd grown to know. He needed this, he needed you. He pushed his nerves as far as he could to the back of his mind. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your own. He’d read that the first time could be uncomfortable for the female. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. He was trying to distract you with searing kisses over your skin, but all his coherent thoughts evaporated into thin air when you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his body to yours. The space between the two of you closed, the heat between the two of you could cause a fire storm.
You ground your hips against him with a needy little mewl that nearly fried his brain. With each pass your crotch covered his member with your slickness. He reached between and grabbed the base, guiding the tip between your lips, aiming it directly at your clit. The sensation sent shockwaves through both of your bodies, making both of you moan and shiver. If just having you close like this made him feel like this, he couldn’t imagine what being inside of you would do. “A-re you ready?” He nodded towards your center and you gave him a verbal yes in confirmation.
He chewed on his bottom lip, out of a nervous habit. He unwrapped your legs from around his waist, needing to be able to see the space between your legs. This was also his first time and he didn’t want to mess things up by putting it in the wrong hole. He didn't dare look at you, he could feel your eyes on him with every move he made, he guessed that was from nervousness as well. “Okay… please tell me if it hurts and I'll stop.” He lined himself in after you gave him a nod.
He pushed in slowly, your walls were even slower to loosen around him. His hands flew to either side of your hair, fisting at the sheets. While yours flew to your mouth to cover any noises that might come from your lips. A soft tear fell from your eyes as you processed the pain of being stretched for the first time. Hyunjin knew this would be uncomfortable for you, but nothing had prepared him for the feeling of being squeezed so tight that he only had two options, keep going and cum or pull out and stop.
His head fell to your shoulder as his inward pursuit halted. He moved a hand to your hip as he steadied himself. He needed you to relax. He started with kisses and hushed loving words, followed by soft caresses of your belly down to your clit. His fingers drew figure eights into the bundle of nerves, pushing soft moans from your lips. With each passing minute of his teasing, your walls loosened bit by bit. He started his pursuit again, keeping the rhythm of his fingers going as sweet nothings fell from his beautifully plump lips. You were in a trance, the sensation of him filling you up went from feeling like you were being split open at the seams to a dull ache. He could feel the tightness subsiding as he tried to blank out his mind to keep from coming too quickly.
If he thought about the way you looked underneath him, or the feeling of the heat that consistently poured off your body and radiated into him, or how you were biting down on your bottom lip with your eyes solely focused on him, he'd empty his load before he could even slide fully in. With time that dull ache you felt turned into something akin to pleasure. Once fully sheathed inside of you, he was able to start a pace to guide your both towards ecstasy. His thrusts were slow at first as he tried to get the hang of things. His face slowly migrated back to your neck where he took solace.
But as your body slowly started adjusting and getting wetter for him, his pace picked up. He was lost in a realm of pleasure he'd never had the chance to experience. A warm, comforting, paradise that was made just for him. His lisp moved from your neck to your chest leaving little marks behind as a reminder that he was here. His fingers on your stuttered before he pinched the nerve between his index and middle. The sensation causes your legs to shake and attempt to close around him. His eyes widened at your reaction, not expecting to have an experience like that his first night with you.
He let the power of making you feel good go to his head. Keeping your clit between his fingers, he shook the bud again, causing you to moan loudly enough for the sound to reverberate off the walls. Hyunjin left sloppy kisses to your mouth as the two of you claimed each other. He could feel that familiar sensation teasing him, begging him to keep going and finish this. But he couldn’t finish this without you. “D-do you thi-think-” He stuttered over his words as your walls clenched around him even tighter than they already were. “Fuck-” He whimpered.
He tried to regain composure, but your walls kept clenching around him. He was seeing white. “Oh..gods…” Your nails dug into his back, as you succumbed to the feelings that had been building up inside of you. Your toes curled and legs shook around the prince. You wanted to both pull him close and push him away at the same time. Your vision was blurred, chest rising and falling rapidly with each rushed breath.
Hyunjin groaned as your walls violently clenched and shook around him. He tried to keep doing but the tightening of your core did nothing but dismantle every idea he had about coming before this incident. He thought he'd come before this, but he in fact had not. Releasing inside of you felt like he was seeing the gods for the first time. His body shuddered, eyes rolled back. His hips sloppily trusted into you before coming to a complete and sudden halt. His moans and breathy cries filled the room as his body began to shake. “I love you. I love yo-” You captured his lips, fingers tangling into his long hair. He'd save any more declarations of love for later.
I'm sittin' in the railway station / Got a ticket for my destination / On a tour of one-night stands / My suitcase and guitar in hand / And every stop is neatly planned / For a poet and a one-man band
Llewyn Davis x Fem!Reader
authors note: okayyy sooo.. this chapter kinda will make a LOT more sense if you have seen the moviee!! ik this is kinda a tone shift from the first chapter but its necessary because llewyn is a little bum loser asshole... but dw things get better!! Fic title from a song called "Homeward Bound" by Simon & Garfunkel.
word count: 2.0k
content warnings: mention of su!c!d3/death, a lot of swearing, both reader and llewyn being dicks kinda..
The small cafe wasn’t packed to the brim, thankfully, but it wasn’t deserted either. Greenwich wasn’t small or quaint or quiet, but this was another level of lively. And there you were, sat like it was completely normal. Sure, there was always shit going on around every corner, folk music coming from inside a select few cafes, but it seemed like all of that energy tripled. Huh.
The pair of you were sitting by the window of the cafe, drinking coffee and chatting over whatever pastries they were selling. Just something small.
Llewyn glanced around the cafe, leaning towards you and tilting his head slightly to everyone else who was sitting down and having their own morning coffee.
“Is it uh… Is it always like this in here?”
“Like what?” You raised an eyebrow, slightly confused on what he meant.
“Y’know.. I mean, I know there’s a lot of..musicians in the Village, but this is overdoing it.”
At the realization of what he meant, you chuckled softly, shrugging as you brought your cup up to your lips.
“Yeahh.. There’s been some changes. Not many, but a few.” You motioned subtly around the cafe, before looking out the window, onto the street. “There were a few protests ‘nd riots back in April. Somethin’ about playing in Washington Square, there was a bunch of people singing. It was actually kind of nice, y’know.”
“Nice? A protest like that?”
“Oh c’mon Llewyn, don’t be like that. A bunch of people came together to sing music and prove a point. Good community of artists down here, y’know. It’s brought more people to The Gaslight, that’s for sure.”
Llewyn huffed quietly at that. To him it sounded a little silly, but if you thought it was okay, then it couldn’t have been that bad.
“You still work at Gaslight?”
“Well…Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know, I just figured you would eventually find a better place.”
“It’s not all that bad, Pappi lets me play sometimes, I get by.”
“Get by?” Llewyn scoffed lightheartedly, letting his gaze rake over the cafe once more. He looked down at his own cup of coffee, taking a sip, before his eyes flicked back to you. “What happened to all that shit about ‘making it big’? You used to be crazy about goin’ out and performing.”
“I still like going out performing, Llewyn. What—” You pause, shaking your head slightly. One of your hands comes up to pinch the bridge of your nose, your eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion. “What’s with all the future talk? I thought you hated thinking about the future.”
“I don’t fucking know, change of heart I guess.” He grumbled, defensively tensing up and sipping from his cup.
Weird. This wasn’t like the usual cynical, pessimistic Llewyn. Okay, it kind of was, but obviously something had happened over the few months he was gone. And you weren’t about to press him on it—you knew he’d hate that even more.
“..Look, I gotta stop by the Gaslight today. I can get you a gig. Tonight, probably.” You put down your cup with a soft clink, reaching over the table to gently grasp Llewyn’s hand in your own. “You probably need the money. And you need to get your head out of your ass for a while, you’re acting weirder than usual.”
He laughed a little at that, a sound something akin to defeat, his free hand rubbing his face again. He looked out the cafe window and onto the bustling streets, quietly stuck in his own head.
“..I don’t know why I came back. Fuckin’ waste of money paying my dues and getting a new lisence.” He muttered, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. “The whole fucking reason I left was to give up on music. I went all the way to fucking Chicago and I still got turned down!”
Oh. That was new. Your tone twisted into something a little more surprised, and understanding. But deep down, it killed you a little bit. Llewyn was self-sabotaging, no doubt about that. But giving up on music? You found that hard to believe.
“You’re an asshole but you’re not that much of an asshole, Llewyn. You don’t just fucking give up on music.”
“Well clearly I fucking didn’t, because obviously I came back.”
You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you crossed your arms on the table, leaning forward in your chair with a quiet creeaak.
“I don’t want to fight with you. But you know you have something good going on. Why the hell did you run? I know that ‘running from everything’ is a very you thing to do, but rejoining the merchant’s union? Come on. We both know you fucking hate it.”
“Because it’s fucking pointless, that’s why!”
A few people started to glance over at you two, curious gazes started to get thrown Llewyn’s way. Once all eyes were off him, he mimicked your pose, crossing his arms and leaning over the table. His voice was a little more hushed now.
“I’m broke, I’m not selling any goddamn music, Jean hates me, she doesn’t even want to fucking look at me.”
“What the fuck does Jean have to do with this?”
“...I got her pregnant.”
“You got—you got her pregnant? What the fuck!”
Now it was your turn to get the weird looks from the other customers. You could feel them staring at you, it felt like holes were being burned into the back of your head. But all you could do was stare at Llewyn like he said the sky was green or some shit. ”This is a joke,” You thought to yourself, searching Llewyn’s expression for any hint of uncertainty.
“Yes, I got her fucking pregnant!” He whisper-shouted at you, clenching his jaw slightly, before forcing himself to take a breath and calm down a bit. He wasn’t opposed to causing a scene. But not here, and certainly not with you involved. He couldn’t lose you. “I got her pregnant, and I have no money left after paying for a bunch of shit. And I’m just..” Llewyn sighed once more, his shoulders—which were once tense—now sagged slightly. “I’m just so fucking tired.”
You knew Llewyn couldn’t help it. But at the same time, God did he just make you so fucking angry. It wasn’t his fault he was so tired, you knew that Mike’s death hit him hard. But using it as his excuse for disappearing for months wasn't the best thing he could have done. Llewyn was the most cynical, pessimistic and stubborn man you have ever met. But holy shit, it wasn’t always like this. You weren’t angry at Llewyn, just angry at everything that was happening.
“We’re all tired, Llewyn. Me, you, Jean, Jim, the Gorfeins, everyone. Everyone is tired. You weren’t the only one that Mike’s death affected.”
Llewyn seemed to tense up at the mention of Mike. You were thinking it, he was thinking it, you both were thinking it. But it seemed to still be a sensitive topic to him.
“Don’t fucking bring him into this.”
“Just because you’re throwing a hissy fit about everything doesn’t mean you’re the only one in the entire world that has shit going on. Just ‘cause he threw himself over George Washington bridge doesn’t mean you have to too.”
“Why’d you have to fucking bring him up? Why, honestly. Don’t talk about this shit like I’m the bad guy.”
“Llewyn, I’m just trying to help. I just hate seeing you all fucking depressed and shit. I’ve missed you, you ran away for two months. You only think about yourself and it’s driving me fucking insane.”
“Well I don’t need your help. I don’t need your fucking pity help.”
Leaning back in your seat, you let out a frustrated huff, your eyebrows knitted together as you stared at Llewyn. You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, because pity help? The last thing you saw him as was a charity case. Ugh, he was so stubborn. You reached into your pocket, digging out what little cash you had on you and haphazardly tossing it onto the table to pay for the coffee. You stood up, pushing your chair in and biting back a harsh remark. He didn’t need to be reprimanded right now. But it was tempting. So fucking tempting.
“I’ll see you around then.”
He sat there, his own eyebrows furrowed and body stiff as he watched you leave.
“What, now you’re running too?”
You didn’t even turn around to say anything else, walking out of the cafe as fast as you could. Where were you even gonna go? As much as you were thankful for your own little corner of the Village, your apartment would’ve felt too suffocating. So you went to your second home; the Gaslight Cafe. At least you could get your mind off of things and hide out there until it opened. This was only supposed to be a nice little catch-up session.
And so, Llewyn was left in the cafe, staring at the door where you had just left a minute ago. What the fuck? What the fuck was that? He knew he wasn’t acting like he usually did, but that was a whole different thing. Usually, you didn’t take things so seriously. Usually, you rarely stormed out on him. It wasn’t really storming out, but still, usually you’d at least stick around to hear his bullshit.
───────────────────────
Standing awkwardly outside of Jim and Jean’s apartment, he knocked softly, a twisting feeling in his gut starting to grow. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was the feeling that something else was going on. Llewyn was taken aback—shit, he knew he was an asshole, but never so much of an asshole that you’d just walk out on him. He thought you missed him. Last time he checked, when someone misses someone, they don’t ditch them at a cafe in the middle of Greenwich.
The sound of the door unlocking had snapped Llewyn out of his thoughts, and he was faced with a sour looking Jean, arms crossed and looking at him expectantly.
“What did you fuck up this time?”
Llewyn scoffed slightly, rubbing his cold hands together, not only for warmth but as an outlet for his stress. Stress, anxiety, it didn’t matter. He just needed to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
“Has.. uh.. Has anything been going on with.. Y’know..”
“No, Llewyn. I don’t know.”
When he mentioned your name, as soon as the first syllable left his lips, Jean’s face twisted into something like pity.
“Oh god, what’d you do to her? Don’t tell me you got her pregnant too.”
“No! Fuck, I didn’t get her pregnant. She just fucking stormed out on me.”
Jean laughed bitterly, as if this was all some joke. Because with Llewyn, it wasn’t that out of the ordinary for something like this to happen. Chick magnet, sure, but he wasn’t the best with women.
“I don’t blame her. I would’ve stormed out too.”
Jean uncrossed her arms and reached for the doorknob, already closing the door on Llewyn, but he scrambled to push it back open slightly. Llewyn’s expression softened into something defeated.
“She started talking about Mike. And I got pissed, and she got pissed, and then she left.”
“Well what’d you expect? She’s the last one to find out you rejoined the Merchants after you’ve already fucking ditched them, too. Of course she’d be pissed.”
“Fucking Lord, Jean, just tell me how to fucking fix this already and I’ll leave you alone.”
“How am I supposed to tell you how to fix things? You couldn’t go to Joy about this? Or did you piss off your sister too?”
When Jean was met with no reply, she just crossed her arms again, her expression mimicking Llewyn’s defeated one. She sighed, rubbing her forehead warily. She felt bad for you. Llewyn didn’t know how to fix shit even if his life depended on it. And to Llewyn, it did feel like his life depended on it. With a slightly less agitated tone, Jean brought her gaze back to Llewyn.
“You want to fix things with her? Then ask her. Listen to her for fucking once in your life.”
Big thank you to @bananahoneycomb for their dedication to capturing the yearning and pining and love that's throughout this fic in the art they made! And a thank you to them for going above and beyond by making the banner art as well! They were so great to work with!
And where would I be in this bang season without my unofficial but official to me beta reader, @thefreakandthehair. Lex gets me through it every time, I'll tell ya what. She catches the mistakes that my tired eyes can't and inflates my ego.
🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸
pretty baby, i'm runnin' back home to you
rated e | read on ao3 | 25k
Eddie Munson is sentenced to 25 years in prison for the murder of Chrissy Cunningham in July of 1986.
Despite everyone’s best efforts, the government did not seem as hellbent on helping him prove his innocence as they did to make sure everyone kept their mouths shut. Hopper and Nancy put more time into pleading his case than any of the fancy lawyers the feds sent to handle it.
Apparently, a biased jury and judge didn’t much care for whatever proof Nancy had.
At least he looks alright in orange.
or: The government fails Eddie Munson, but Steve Harrington gives him a dangerous thing: hope.
“There was a magic blue police box, here in the garden,” said Warlock.
“Was there now, poppet?” Crowley was only half listening; Aziraphale had been called upstairs for a progress report, and he wouldn’t give anything away, would he? Only he thought he was cleverer than he was, sometimes; the sight of him staring down a gun aimed between his eyes had stung more than the church floor under Crowley’s feet.
“There was, it came out of nowhere. It went skreek skreek skreek an’ a lady came out with a police woman, and she asked what year it was.”
“And did you tell her?”
“I did, and she said ‘oh snap, too early.’ Then she got in the box and it went skreek skreek again and disappeared.”
“Well, now, that was curious, wasn’t it?” (Aziraphale really ought to be back by now.)
“An’ that’s not all. It came back and she looked out the door and said ‘Did the End Of The World happen yet?’ ”
“And what did you say?”
“I said No, 'cos I'm not big enough, and she went away again. I’m going to rule after the end of the world, won’t I? Wif a big dog and all. An' grind everyone under my heel.”
“So you shall, poppet. Go gather up your toys, it’s nearly tea-time.”
“How is he coming along?” asked a voice at her shoulder presently, making her jump.
“Startled me, angel. How long’ve you been standing there?” Crowley was never going to get used to the Brother Francis rig-out.
“Just got back. I can’t seem to convince them. Are we still sure this will work?”
“I’ve got hopes,” said Crowley. “Got an imagination, for one thing. Something no one Upstairs or Down seems to have. Just told me a mad tale about disappearing police women. I’m betting on him.”
Read and comment on AO3
Tagging in the replies, let me know if you want on or off my tag list!
🐰posted on tumblr by @shannyshotleafjuice. please do not repost or translate without permission.
⌛
Like second nature,
he keyed in the code on the number pad and the lock clicked open.
⌛
Satoru arrived at the scene.
He looked at the crater. Nothing remained but a hollow void.
His eyes scanned the surroundings for cursed energy residue with his Six Eyes. A prominent residue lingered near the core of the crater, with faint traces scattered outwards.
Panda called Satoru’s name, his voice lacked its usual chirpiness. Satoru diverted his attention to the boys.
Inumaki and Panda were sitting at the edge of the crater, still trying to process what just happened. Satoru went over and sat down to meet them at eye level, “What happened?”
Inumaki tugged on Satoru’s sleeve, his cheeks were still damp from his earlier tears. His eyes filled with helpless apologies.
“Tuna mayo…” He croaked weakly as he shook his head.
Panda took a deep breath before he started to explain. “We were here to help Y/N exorcise a semi-grade 1 curse. There were a few low levels as well, but we handled that.”
He clenched his fists in frustration, “The semi-grade 1 curse appeared, but it seemed stronger. Y/N’s cursed technique couldn’t fully stop it. It might have been a special.”
Whilst Panda described the curse and recounted the chain of events, Inumaki would occasionally nod or shake his head to provide his own responses.
“Did she tell you to run?” Satoru asked.
Inumaki nodded, “Salmon…”
“She smiled and told us to trust her.” Panda added with dismay.
The pain was evident in Panda’s voice and Inumaki’s gaze – the boys were blaming themselves for not saving her. The guilt ate at them the longer they sat in front of the hospital that used to be there not too long ago.
Satoru just nodded.
After a beat, he pulled his phone out to call a car to pick the boys up and return them to school.
Satoru stayed to survey the site. Slowly, he made his way to the area where he could guess was the core of the explosion due to its significant traces of cursed energy left behind. He knelt down and placed his hand on the suspected core, silently imagining the events that happened according to Panda’s story.
Although Satoru seemed calm on the surface, anger simmered beneath it. She had done it alone.
For a fraction of a second, something tugged at his senses – a thread of something thin, almost familiar and already fading.
He stilled as his eyes flicked over his shoulder.
Then, he exhaled softly and looked away.
~
Back at Jujutsu Headquarters, Satoru filed the report on paper after verbally confirming her death with the higher-ups.
He sat at his desk as he typed it up on a computer.
Name: Y/Full Name
Code: 071289
Status: Killed in action
Cause of Death: Explosion – concentrated cursed energy emitted by special grade curse within a veil. Insufficient residual energy to indicate survival.
After filing the report, he sat in silence for a bit. Then, a knock could be heard from the door of the office he was sitting in.
Kento slid the door open and stepped inside.
“Ah, Nanami, just the guy I was looking for.” Satoru gestured for him to sit down on a chair nearby. He could already guess what Kento was here for, news travels fast – especially when it concerns death.
Kento’s eyes locked onto Satoru’s as he took his seat. Satoru knew how dear Kento was as my cousin, he deserved to know.
“She chose when to disappear.” Satoru said softly, just loud enough for him to hear.
Kento’s jaw clenched subtly, a faint line forming on his forehead. He understood my need to escape from the clutches of the Zenin clan.
“Is this permanent?”
Satoru tilted his head, “As long as I’m alive.”
Kento exhaled softly and nodded once, “Then I will mourn her properly. Alone.”
~
Unknowingly, Satoru somehow appeared at the front door of my house.
Like second nature, he keyed in the code on the number pad and the lock clicked open. He turned the handle and pushed it open. The shoe closet left slightly ajar caught his attention, a habit of mine when I’m in a rush to get out.
He took his shoes off as usual and walked along the familiar hallway. He passed by the kitchen and saw my favourite mug on the drying rack and a book I was reading halfway. The bookmark, a simple piece of blue paper that seemed somewhat familiar.
Satoru went over to pick the book up, flipping to the page where the bookmark was.
His breath caught in his throat – it was the slip of paper we used to decide what my new alias would be. A few crossed out, dots found next to the names, and the final selection circled multiple times.
His finger traced the paper, recounting the day we curled up on the sofa and talked about names. It sounded so casual, like we were naming a pet or a child.
For a moment, his eyes lit up.
He took long strides and made his way to my bedroom.
The bed was unmade, and some clothes were strewn on the end of it. The subtle floral scent from my clothes that lingered in the room filled his nostrils almost immediately.
With practised ease, he went to my desk and pulled open the second drawer. He pushed the things inside the drawer to one side. Sliding his finger along the edge, he found the subtle crevice and popped the hidden compartment open.
All the documents and cash they both collated to help her disappear.
Gone.
It was unusual, for the first time ever, his knees started to shake.
Gradually, they gave way, and he accepted it by falling onto his knees. He pressed his head onto the open drawer and closed his eyes.
