#day 1: alliance/first

[helsensm]

a sketch I did for an event where people chose what mk characters I would draw, 5 different games and 1 movie~

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

Botbots squad userboxes pt 1: Squads Featured in the Show! 📺✨ (More userboxes below the cut!) I got bored 'n noticed a lack of Botbots related userboxes, so i'm making them now! Starting with Squads that are specifically in the cartoon! (These are f2u, credit is NOT required UNLESS you're going to repost them on another site as they are (i.e pinterest)! But if these are in pinned posts, headers, carrds, rentrys or what-have-you-- go nuts!)

PREV || NEXT

+ bonus show!frostferatu coloured sugar shock userboxes (for the gothic sugar shocks <3)

[youronlybean]

I just realised I’m one square away from bingo for Secret Life but I don’t think I can get it ?? The card is all made up of stuff that’s commonly happened in the past seasons but this season is so different that I just haven’t gotten a lot of them

[kabuki-writes]

And All Eyes Were Set On Brutus

chapter: 3 chapter 1 | 2 | 4

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: After their visit of the Colosseum, Marcus Acacius worries even more about his beloved daughter. Meanwhile a dangerous rumor finds its way into the Emperor's ears.

warning(s): NSFW | mention of violence | mention of alcohol | swearing | sexual implications | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: Thank you all for your ongoing support and your comments on my previous chapters✨🙇‍♀️! I really enjoy to write this fic as a Geta and Cara stan myself and it honors me that you continue to share your love for these two and this fic. I really hope you like this chapter as well, because this time it gets a little more... spicy.🌶️

word count: 3.6k

Rome was becoming nothing more than a painful cage for General Acacius. From the very first day he had to wear the white armor of victory, he felt like a slave with no other choices than to watch how everything he had known changed for the worse. He despised himself for not being able to protect his own daughter from the eyes of the Emperors, that were now set on her. He should've never taken her with him, he should've sticked with his principles. But then again, what choice did he even have, when he faced an order by the most powerful men in the world.

There was no chance to defy them openly, speaking up now would bring danger to his whole family as they would have to face the consequences of Marcus Acacius' actions. He wasn't so delusional and naive to think that the anger of the Emperors would only befall him alone, no, they weren't like that. So when the day came and a senator stepped forward to the General, he hesitated. Geta and Caracalla were beloved by the people as they gave them victories, bread and games - as long as the plebs had that, no one gave a damn about who sat on top. For them it was all the same, but the senate was different.

After the death of Emperor Commodus, the senate reestablished the Roman Republic, but wasn't able to secure their power. Many cities and regions took their chance to rebel against Rome as most of the generals refused to serve the new order - that included Marcus Acacius as well, who quickly sided with his old friend and brother-in-arms Septimius Severus, the father of the now ruling Emperors Geta and Caracalla. They took their legions and marched on Rome, where Severus took the power from the senate again only one year after the rebirth of the Republic. Acacius did believe in Severus, he did believe in the vision his friend had for Rome as well as his strength and wisdom as Emperor. Nearly two decades he was not disappointed while he served his old friend as a close advisor and his first general.

The senate got reduced to nothing more than a theater stage, with no real power or influence. And Acacius was sure that they would forever hate him for the service he did to Severus. Yet men like Gracchus must've sensed that the general was getting more and more delusional given the current reign of the twins. So the politicians approached him carefully and together they formed an alliance in the shadows. Their plan: Overthrowing the two Emperors and install the Republic again. Acacius stood never on the side of the senate... but nothing was as terrible as Geta's and Caracalla's tyranny. And if that is a way to protect his daughter and his family from them, he happily claimed himself a Roman Republican now.

Coming from one of his nightly visits at senator Gracchus' home, Acacius noticed that there was someone still sitting in the inner garden of his Roman city residence. He took off his cloak and approached you slowly as you watched the turtles in the small pond between the plants and flowers, while the water of a small fountain rippled in the silence. "Your mother told me, that you were sitting here the whole day", he said with a low tone, careful not to scare you with his sudden appearence, before he took a seat right next to you on the stone bench. When he watched your face, he saw all the thoughts that were probably going through your head after the situation in the Collosseum yesterday. For a long moment, the two of you simply sat in silence, while one of the turtles walked along a mosaic before it fell into the water.

"I am not a child anymore, i don't want you or mother to protect me any longer", you suddenly whispered, before your head turned to your father. In your eyes he saw how you struggled to maintain your neutrality as you faced the danger that may come over you, if you'd accept this new attention further. "And yet i don't know how to deal with... them? I suppose i cannot refuse any of this?" Your question carried a sense of pain, because you already knew the answer and it was equally as hard for your father to shake his head in response.

"I thought so...", you mumbled and leaned forward give one of the turtles a leaf of salad you had snached from the dinner table earlier. Acacius had seen many battles and many terrible things, but nothing was harder than to see you like this. And nothing was harder than to feel helpless. All he could do was laying his hand softly and reassuring on your shoulder.

„You’re my daughter, y/n. And you’re right, even if I want it to, I can not protect you anymore… all I can promise you, that it is going to be alright."

He searched for a way to fix all of this, even though he couldn't tell you how. It was better this way as it would only drag you deeper into the dead end that your own father had already set up. The mere thought about it made his heart grow even more painful.

"Do you regret it sometimes?", you suddenly asked, looking at the vibrant clear water of the pond. "What do you mean?"

"That you marched with Emperor Severus back then?"

This question wasn't easy to answer, it was written on Acacius face, as he turned his face to the turtles and sighed.

"I did believe in Severus... i still do. Under him, Rome was able to secure itself and become strong again. What comes after that now - only time will tell. But what i know is that i have to leave in a few weeks with my troups again. An order of the Emperors."

It wasn't a particular surprising news, but nonetheless your fingers digged themselves into the fabric of your toga-like blue dress, while you still hept your head high. Despair was no useful emotion and not a good thought right now. You needed to stay calm, stick to yourself and find a way on how to deal with all of the things that were happening. As you'd said you were no child anymore - you will find a way out if this, even without your father.

You didn't say a word in response, however you closed your arms around him as the fear that with him being gone it could get even worse, lingered on your mind. Little did you know that the world you had known was already on the brink of falling apart.

_____________________________________________

The smell of incence, wine, sweet perfume and sweat filled the rooms of Emperor Caracalla's chambers, while naked bodies moved themselves to the rythm of a small group of musicians. The melodies of their instruments mixed themselves with the moans of the men and women in ecstacy, the worshippers of Bacchus - god of wine, euphoria and madness. Drinking and making love was the way they prayed nearly every night as Caracalla found in it a way to escape the reality that almost drove him crazy. Here in his chambers, the only Emperor that mattered was him, the only word that was heard was his own. At least one small realm for himself, while he had to share the rest of the world with his twin brother.

But it was different this time, when he stared at the scenery with a mind clouded in intoxication. His breaths went ragged, while he sat on a bed decorated with velvet cushions, a young man kneeled between his legs and sent him to elysium with his tongue, while he was surrounded by beautiful slaves, women with golden chains, that decorated their naked breasts and hips. And yet even in a scenery like this, where he usually found a way to calm his restless mind, he was still thinking about her. Not only her, sadly - that goddamn General was another thought. The hero of Rome was no pleasant figure for him anymore, he was nothing more than a Brutus, but Caracalla was not the one to end up like Julius Caesar.

The mere thought of killing this treacherous son of a whore hit Caracalla's brain and made him cum into the mouth of the slave that had his dick deep in his throat. This peak of his pleasure would've helped him to relax if not one of the praetorian guards stepped in and walked with his black and lilac amror through the voyeristic scenery like it was a halluzination in front of the Emperor's eyes. Without a second thought, Caracalla simply pushed the young slave, who was still sitting at his feet, to the side and stood up. His hand quickly grabbed the white toga that layed on the floor which he threw over his own naked, pale body. "Why do you disturb me!?", he hissed, as if he wasn't already expecting him.

The soldier ignored the music, the slaves that layed on the ground and fucked each other, just as he ignored the half-naked Emperor right in front of him, who still wore his golden laurel crown and his jewelries. "Emperor Geta waits for you."

For a moment, the young man with the gingerblonde hair stared at his guard, before he nodded quickly, as if it got him out of a daydream. "Yes, yes i will come to him, i am right there, tell him that. And get that slave Marcellus here," he answered, hand waving him away before his tone shifted and he screamed at his 'guests'. "Get out, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! NOW!" The music stopped immediately and all eyes were set on Caracalla, while the first slaves already got to their feet again. „NOW,“ he repeated in a louder and added in a hissing tone „…or I will claim your tongue with a dagger!“

Caracalla was impossible to read fully, just as he was impulsive. It would’ve not been the first time one participant of this nightly debaucheries had lost his tongue or another part of his body.

_____________________________________________

Emperor Geta waited in his embroidered night robe, which was half open, exposing his bare and pale chest. Sitting on a cushioned wooden chair, he stared with tired eyes out the window of the balcony, the darkness of Rome in front of him. Just as his brother he had someone in his chambers, but instead of a whole horde of slaves he had chosen one good whore with hairs that reminded him of you. It was just a dull replacement, he knew that, yet it was enough for a good fuck before he would’ve went to sleep.

If there was not his twin brother, who‘d call for him in the middle of the goddamn night. By the gods he hated to be disturbed like that, especially after countless of times his brother got him here only to share uninteresting - sometimes even paranoid - gossip with him, which Caracalla had heard from the mouth of one of his slaves.

When the curtains of the attached room opened and Geta saw his brother entering with his wild hair and only with a toga over his bare body, his nose twitched in anger. „Don‘t tell me you disturbed my sleep and called for my immediate coming while you were fucking whores at your damn orgy!? When you’re telling me that your problem is, that you can’t sleep now, I will cross you myself!“ Yes, it wasn’t the first time Caracalla had called him for such nonesense. And usually Geta had a lot of patience with him, given his psychological condition, but not tonight.

Caracalla stopped in an instant and looked at his brother with big eyes as if he tries to convince him that he wasn’t guilty of anything. „Yes, but- I had a reason for that!“ he insisted, which only fueled Geta's anger. „Lucinius, bring us the slave!“ Caracalla quickly said and the Praetorian guard who just had informed him about his brother came in with a skinny, yet tall young man. He was a slave but given the clothes he wore, it was clear that he had a higher rank within the household he was serving in.

„Who is that, one of your toy boys?“ Geta asked, eying the stranger he‘d never seen before. But Caracalla shook his head and stepped forth to place his hand on the shoulder of that slave.

„No! He is a slave from the household of senator Gracchus,“ he explained and couldn’t hide an almost devilish smile as this said slave was here for one reason alone - to tell them everything. „Marcellus, tell him,“ he ordered and whispered into his ear. „I promised you your freedom and a good amount of gold, to return to your family. You want to see your daughter again, right? So don’t disappoint me now.“ With those words he stepped back for a moment, giving the slave a moment to breath as he seemingly tried to find the right words. He was nervous, the way his fingers twitched and his eyes were glued to the marble ground under his feet.

"I... i am a servant in the household of senator Gracchus for nearly a decade now", Marcellus began and forced himself to look up into the testing eyes of Geta, who was growing more impatient with each second passing. "The General... General Acacius as well as a couple of other senators visit my master regularly in the middle of the night and they always retreat into a secret room in the cellar of his villa."

With an amused whistle Geta interrupted him. "Why should we care for the sexual escapades of a group of old men?", he hissed, but Caracalla threw in with a darkened shimmer in his eyes. "Wait for it, you will be furious, trust me! Continue."

Marcellus needed a second to calm himself down and stop to shake as he formed his next words. "When i brought them wine once, they stopped with their conversation as long as i stayed in the room, but when i was in the corridor, they spoke again. They didn't know that i was still there, so i just listened and- it was clear that they questioned you, my Emperors. They questioned your leadership and the general - i wouldn't dare to speak out loud such a blasphemy against your rule, if it was not what i've heard with my own ears."

Geta's face darkened with every new information Marcellus was telling him and slowly he realized why his brother was so eager to get him here. The laugh of his twin filled the room, which turned hysterical. "Tell him, Marcellus!"

"General Acacius and the senators Gracchus, Livinidus, Galba and Erebus plan to overthrow you with the legions that are under Acacius' command," he said and had to force every word out of his mouth, afraid of the anger that cooked like a vulcano in Geta. His hands formed fists and he bit his tongue. All this time, Acacius - the hero - was a traitor, a Brutus. And now he connected the dots, thinking about every time this General wined about going off to war. This maggot.

"And this is true!?", he asked in a loud, demanding tone. "If that is a lie, we will punish you in the most terrible ways you could imagine and feed you to the lions in the Colosseum!" Marcellus eyes were filled with tears of fear, yet he shook his head heavily.

"No, please! I speak the truth, i swear it! I swear it in front of Jupiter himself, please, you must believe me! I came to Emperor Caracalla, who promised me my freedom if i tell it here again. It is no lie!"

"Kill him", Geta ordered in a cold tone and before Marcellus could even scream, it was the blade of the Praetorial Guard that cut his head off from behind, making it fall to the ground like a ball of bones and meat, followed by his body. Under the resounding laugh of Caracalla, Geta ordered the Guard to leave them so that he could speak to his brother in private.

"You just read my mind, dear brother! I wouldn't have let him go either", Caracalla sang. "We should kill them all, that bastard Acacius and his old senate sluts! Let's cut off their heads and spike them on the Palatin for all to see!"

But Geta was already two steps ahead when he closed the distance between him and his twin. Yes, he was furious, it took him all restraints to not give in the urge of ordering their murder. "No," he said, which drew a questioning look on his brothers face.

"What no?! Those are traitors, TRAITORS! You've heard the same things i did!?"

"I did, but the senators are no danger. These old men talk about the republic which is nothing more than dust and ashes! A faded dream and without any backing, they just continue to shit themselves in the senate. When our father took Rome, the people cheered to him, because they didn't want a Republic but a strong Emperor to guide them, remember? The head of the snake is Acacius! He must die, and he will die, but not yet!", Geta started and turned to the balcony, leaving his brother for a moment as he stood in the darkness with his his white toga. "We need his legion, and we will make him our fucking dog, who has no chance to ever decline any order of us, if we have his beloved daughter. If he doesn't do as we say, then she will die."

But he will, Geta knew that. Nothing seemed to be more precious in Acacius' life than his family and especially his dear daughter. And this whole situation had a bonus for Geta, because when he turned to face Caracalla again, he announced. "I will force him with an order to marry his daughter to me!"

Caracalla froze in place, his eyes staring at his brother as if he just had a bad dream. "What?", he simply asked again, while his brother's anger turned into anticipation. "With a marriage we bind her to our reign and therefore we will bind the General. Acacius delivers us his own daughter and his own head on a silver tablet with his treacherous nonsense!"

Geta wanted to place his hands on his twin's shoulders, but Caracalla slapped them out of his way. "I don't accept this! NO! I DON'T ACCEPT THIS!", he screamed at him, which really irritated his twin. "Why can't I be the One to marry her!?"

There it was. For the first time, the twins revealed in front of each other that they longed for the same girl. And that made it complicated. Nonetheless Geta was still confused, why his brother reacted like that, so he reminded him of what Caracalla said all those years.

"You never wanted to marry? How many times did you told our father before he died? Every time he said to us, that we would need to find ourselves someone to take as a wife, you refused. You were too busy indulging in your late night activities and Bacchus rituals."

He stepped forward with an intense glaze in his eyes. This way of being instructive, while Caracalla was still his twin and technically even older than him, made his brother's mouth twitch in response to his next words. "May i remind you about the fact that i am the one of us dealing with most of the political responsibilities, because you always wanted to stick to your fun."

Those words were indeed true, as Caracalla hated those senate discussions, which lead to nothing and were only for show - an illusion for both the plebs and the upper-classes. Geta continued, but not without making clear that he saw himself worthier of you being his wife, bound in front of the gods. "All of that is fine, brother. I've always protected you from the boring senators and hypocrites of the Roman elite, while you collected the most beautiful slaves and enjoyed yourself. You have no duties, as long as i take them off your shoulders and finally shut up all the people, finally demanding a royal marriage after all those years. And given all of that, i do think i deserve to marry before you to present Rome an Empress."

Caracalla stared at him, straight into the eyes of his twin Geta and his fingers twitched. If he would just have a dagger now? But he had none right here and given the fact that his brother was always taller and stronger with his statue, it wouldn't make sense to start a fight. In fact he couldn't even argue against him, as it was true, he was never an Emperor that bothered himself with any political nonesense. Yet he couldn't shake off the urge to kill Geta for this. Again, he took a thing from him he wanted to own for himself - only for himself. Even though his twin showed his goodwill, as he always did. His hands layed itself on Caracalla's cheeks and he gave him a brotherly kiss on the forehead. "Don't worry, dear brother. I am not above sharing her divine presence with you. But she will always be my wife," he whispered, followed by a smile on his lips.

With those words he simply turned and left the room, leaving Caracalla, who was still wearing his white toga over his naked body, as well as the body of Marcellus alone in the dark. His mind got corrupted with so many thoughts in this very moment, but the most prominentely thought was anger. So he screamed hysterically and grabbed the table that stood at the side to throw it down, taking the vase on top and hurled it straight through the room, followed by the head of that damn slave. He hated Geta. He hated him so much and still they had shared the whomb of their mother, which made them share the same blood.

How long would he be able to hold the urge to murder his own brother - especially now as Geta claimed you?

_____________________________________________

Tags:

quuinyoung koshkahhh mmkkzz analves pandora-journey ange-olras tellynojelly targwh0re h3k3t onelemonoat whitenoise808 spooky-cupid dev1lbella onelemonoat hawraa-alzubaidi omg-hellgirl the-holy-pigeon

[vsimp]

Bittersweet (part 2)

bitter part 1 | part 3 (coming soon, fr this time)

pairing: kamisato ayato x f!reader

word count: 2k

warning: negative thoughts

The cherry blossoms fluttered down one by one. The silk fabric of your wedding attire slightly swayed in the wind. You sat with your husband in front of your families, and you looked upon the guests who enjoyed themselves at the matrimonial ceremony.

A happy smile washed upon your expression as you sipped the ceremonial sake. Unbeknownst to you, his amethyst eyes watched your every move and expression that day. 

Later on, when people grew more and more inebriated, and some time had passed, he looked at you with an unknown glint in his eyes. He placed his hand over yours, the one that had laid rested on his lap. And as if he had just placed a mask directly over his face, he gave you that smile you were all too familiar with during the present day. 

You felt that you could get lost into the light and beautiful colors of his eyes. And before you knew it, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, so softly, so tenderly, that it felt like you could melt right then and there. His scent overwhelmed your senses, his touch was ever so gentle. Even the beauty of the cherry blossoms themselves could not distract you from how much affection you had held for this man before you. 

You shut your own eyes as you sank deeper into his kiss.

That was when you had fallen in love with him for the first time.

Overcome with emotions, your eyes then fluttered open like a gentle breeze in the plains of Teyvat. 

Instead of seeing the man you had fallen in love with, you found yourself staring at the familiar wooden ceiling above you. It was just a dream. A very familiar dream. Your hand had instantly made its way to find the ring that was centered on your left fourth finger.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you brought the ring to your chest, holding it close to your own heart so that you could never lose or forget those sweet memories again. 

Then, after you took some time to yourself, you got up early that morning, getting yourself ready as you made your way to breakfast.

Your duties as his spouse was to oversee the staff and make sure the interior and exterior of the house were up to par. In short, you worked with Ayaka closely, taking on the other half of her workload. Days were busy as you greeted guests several times a week, trying to behave as courteously as you could, while your sister in law went out of the estate to pay political visits to other prominent people. 

The morning air carried the faint scent of cherry blossoms, though the season for their full bloom had long passed. You let the memories of that dream linger as you walked through the estate, weaving through your responsibilities. The stillness of the household awakened with the first rays of sunlight, the staff bustling in preparation for the day ahead. 

At breakfast, Ayaka mentioned the upcoming event hosted by the Kanjou Commission, her words lighthearted but laced with the weight of duty.

“It will be an important gathering,” Ayaka said, her calm voice like the gentle ripple of a stream. “The merchants will be in attendance, along with several envoys from Liyue and Fontaine. It will give us an opportunity to strengthen alliances.”

You nodded, already knowing your role in such events. As his spouse, you were expected to play the part of a gracious hostess, perfectly polished, and in sync with your husband’s impeccable image. But beneath your poised demeanor, you felt the familiar weight in your chest. These events always served as a reminder of the distance between you and Ayato, that mask of formality that the both of you put on to appear as the perfect couple.

He arrived at the breakfast table later than usual, his amethyst eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he took the tea that you had poured for him. He looked tired as usual, his gentle smile masking his fatigue. “The preparations are coming along well, I trust?” he asked, his voice calm and measured.

“Yes,” you replied with a small smile. “Everything should be in order.”

He gave a short nod, taking a sip of his tea before speaking again. “Good. I appreciate your attention to these details.” There was no warmth in his tone, only polite acknowledgment, and you had long since stopped expecting more. But still, a compliment was a compliment and you could only bask in the small amount of attention he showed you.

⊱ ─── ⋅♡⋅ ─── ⊰

The estate of the Hiiragi sparkled with lanterns and elegant decor. You and Ayato arrived hand in hand quite early, and as more guests arrived, you greeted them with a smile that you had perfected over the years. Your kimono was intricately detailed, the colors chosen to complement Ayato’s attire, though the two of you felt like mere actors on a stage rather than a married couple.

Ayato was by your side, as expected, and his demeanor was calm and charming as he greeted prominent figures. His gentle words flowed with ease, and the guests hung onto every syllable. Occasionally, his hand would hold yours, but it was fleeting, a mere formality rather than a gesture of affection, causing your heart to ache briefly before you force that pleasant smile onto your face.

As the evening progressed, the air buzzed with conversation and subtle power plays. You found yourself caught in the intricate dance of politics, where every word and gesture held weight. But you were used to this, you had been his wife for years now. One of the envoys from Fontaine, a stern-looking man, started to engage you in conversation. At first, the exchange was cordial, but you quickly realized he was testing you, his tone growing sharper with every word.

“I see the Yashiro Commission’s manners are as refined as ever,” he said, his gaze flickering to Ayato before settling back on you. “Though I wonder, Lady Kamisato, do you share your husband’s understanding of the intricate trade agreements we are discussing?”

The subtle condescension in his voice made your pulse quicken. You smiled politely, trying to recall the specifics Ayaka had briefed you on earlier. But the man’s relentless questioning caught you off guard, and a slight misstep in your response sent a ripple through the nearby conversations. A murmur spread among the guests, and the envoy’s sharp laugh cut through the air.

“I suppose not everyone can grasp the complexities of international trade,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. Before you could respond, he picked up a cup of tea from the table and tipped it over, the warm liquid spilling onto your hair and shoulders. It dripped down your body, staining your kimono. For a moment, you couldn’t move or breathe. Your vision blurred as the murmurs around you grew louder, your pulse pounding in your ears.

The shock of it froze you in place. Your composure shattered as you felt the heat reach your face and the sting of humiliation in your chest. Gasps erupted from the surrounding guests, but the man seemed unbothered, already turning away to rejoin another group.

Ayato stepped forward, his expression unreadable, and his hand reached out toward you. But before he could speak, you bolted from the room, the tears you had fought so hard to hold back finally spilling over as embarrassment filled your entirety. 

You knew your husband wouldn’t defend you if it meant trying to keep those trade dealings ongoing. You didn’t want to blame him for doing so, but you also wouldn’t dare to look him into his eyes. Thoughts after thoughts flood your mind. You weren’t good enough for him. You’ll never be good enough for him. Everything was ruined because of you, and you were sure he thought the same.

After all, Kamisato Ayato was a man who strived for the best. He sacrificed a lot for the sake of his clan, including his own happiness and leisure. How could you, of all people, ruin that?

You ran through the dimly lit halls of the estate, vision blurred by your hot tears. The air of the cool night hit your face as you stepped outside into the garden, seeking refuge among the quiet cherry blossom trees. The hum of the party grew faint behind you, but your sorrow only grew as time passed.

It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps behind you. You turned to see your husband standing there, his usually composed expression slightly off.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. “Are you alright?”

That simple question broke something within you. The dam you carefully built over years of silent suffering had burst, and the words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Alright?” You echoed, your voice trembling. “How could I possibly be alright, Ayato? Do you know what it feels like to be humiliated like that in front of everyone? Do you even care?”

His eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing, and his silence only fueled your anger.

He must have thought you looked like an idiot. Surely, he must have. Maybe he was even disappointed in you. Maybe… he didn’t even want you to be his wife anymore.

Something broke within you. 

“All of these years, I have tried so hard to be the perfect wife for you, to support you in everything you do, even when you barely acknowledge my existence. And tonight, when I needed you the most, you just stood there, just watching me be humiliated.”

“Y/n…” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, but you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. You don’t notice how he reached out to touch your cheek gently in an attempt to comfort you, only to retract it like he had just touched a flame once you had looked up at him. 

“No,” you said, your voice cracking. “I’m done pretending that this doesn’t hurt, that you haven’t hurt me. Every day, I feel like I’m just a burden to you, like I don’t belong in your world. I wait for you every single night, but you’re never there. I want to hold your hand and… and help carry your burdens… I want to kiss you and love you. That’s why I can’t do this anymore, Ayato. I just… I can’t. You kissed me once, so sweetly, on our wedding day. I dreamt about it last night, and it hurt because that was the last time I felt like you ever truly saw me.”

There was a long silence after that. For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, his expression softened into something you couldn’t quite place—regret perhaps, or even pity.

You didn’t want him to pity you. You just wanted him to love you. You wanted to be his light, his world. His wife. 

“Do you even love me?” You finally asked.

That large question was met with even more silence. His lips parted slightly as if to answer, but no words came. His gaze then shifted, somewhere between anguish and restraint, before it fell elsewhere.

You then let out a shaky breath, the weight of your emotions finally left you feeling hollow. 

“I’m sorry for burdening you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. 

And before he could respond, you turned and ran away, leaving him alone in the moonlit garden. 

Surprisingly, you felt free after those words. Free, yet the sorrow in your heart kept pouring out. It kept pouring out like the most bitter tears in the world.

You collapsed onto the ground in your room, gripping your wedding ring. You wanted to hold on to the sweetness of your memories, but they slipped through your fingers like grains of sugar dissolving in water. You thought about your dream from last night, your wedding, the way he had kissed you so sweetly.

Even now, the memory felt like a trick your mind had played, a fleeting glimpse of something that was never real. And the more you tried to cling on to it, the more you realized that the sweetness of such memories had faded into a bitterness within your heart. 

A lonely, bittersweet love.

bitter part 1

[novaursa]

Cregan Stark Masterlist

main list

- NSFW Alphabet - explicit 18+

- The Silent Game - When your family took the side of King Aegon II, the usurper, you felt the need to support the rightful Queen and your husband, the Warden of the North. No matter the cost. - mature 16+

- The Weight of Ice - You try to lift Cregan’s ancestral greatsword which he wields with ease. It doesn't go as planned. - mild 13+

- The Wall - Cregan takes you to see the Wall, and Silverwing comes with you. - mild 13+

- The Wolf's Desire - After the Dance, Cregan took position as the Hand of the King until the realm under your younger brother’s rule is stabilized. But Cregan's thoughts today are far from establishing order and justice to the capital. - explicit 18+

- Fox in Wolves Den - You were instructed by Larys Strong to spy the northerners, to thin their ranks. But today you faced the Warden of the North himself. - mature 16+

- Winterfell's Warmth - Cregan takes you to be his wife, a fire to his ice. And it's not long until smallfolk notice just how much Lord Stark is devoted to his Targaryen bride. - mature 16+

- Daisy - Heavy with your and Cregan’s first child, you get suspicious when your husband starts to sneak out to see Daisy. - mild 13+

- The Cold Embrace (1/2) - When your older brother, Jacaerys, promised you to the Warden of the North as an alliance offering, your world crashed. Because you knew one thing: dragons die in the North - and not even honorable Lord Stark could change that fact. - mature 16+

- The Cold Embrace (2/2) - As time passes, snow begins to melt. - explicit 18+

- Valyrian Bride - When your older brother, Jacaerys, promised you to Cregan to be his bride, the Lord Stark did not expect what he got - a trueborn dragon. - mild 13+

- Valyrian Bride (Continuation) - mild 13+

- Valyrian Bride (Final Chapter) - mature 16+

- Valyrian Bride (dragon eggs) - Cregan was expecting a quiet day. But nothing is ever truly quiet with his dragon-blooded children. - mild 13+

- Valyrian Bride (dragon's bath) - You invite Cregan to join you in a warm bath. - mature 16+

- Valyrian Bride (nameday) - Cregan notices his wife and children doing strange (well, stranger than usual) things for him throughout the day. - mild 13+

- Winter's Solace - Specters of the past came back today once more to hunt you, but Cregan holds them back. - mature 16+

- The Cycle - Cregan leaves with his duty to the Wall and you are left alone with a choice Larys Strong brings. - explicit 18+

- The Cycle (one for the price of two) - alternative scenario - Explicit 18+

- The Cycle (justice) - Cregan delivers justice for your son and Grey Ghost. - explicit 18+

- The Frozen Throne - You and Cregan win the Dance. - mature 16+

- The Gullet's Price - The day you received the news about the death of your brother, another life was lost. - explicit 18+

- Dreams of Fire - You brought gentleness to the harshness of the North, and Cregan finds himself warmed by your presence. - explicit 18+

- The North's Fiercest Catch - You challenge Cregan to hunt down a dragon. - mature 16+

- Fire meets Ice - A short story about how you challenged Cregan to bring more fire into your bedchamber. - mature 16+

- Winter's Eve - A short story for Christmas Eve. - mild 13+

Works (velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark) below are listed in chronological order:

- The Dragon and The Wolf - Rhaenyra sends her daughter instead of her son to fly North. You. - mature 16+

- A Union of Ice and Fire - After your mother, Queen Rhaenyra, approves of the marriage between you and Cregan Stark, you marry under watchful eyes of gods of old. And one week later, a raven arrives carrying dark news. - explicit 18+

- The North Remembers - You return to Dragonstone, where you mourn with your family as you receive the message from Cregan. - explicit 18+

- The Heir of Ice and Ash - A little less than a year into your marriage with Cregan, you give birth to your first child. - mature 16+

- Fires That Never Freeze - You receive the news about Rhaenys' death at Rook's Rest, before Jace arrives as he secures the Twins. - explicit 18+

- The Wolf's Flame - When you take your son flying, Cregan keeps fires warm for your return. - mature 16+

- Hour of the Wolf - Cregan keeps his promise to you, and delivers Northern justice to the South. - mature 16+

[garagesesh]

HOTD Headcanons

i can hear the bells // p.1 & p.2

gif source

⤷ pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen x reader & cregan stark x reader ⤷ warning(s): mentions of sex, alcohol, general rudeness ⤷ a/n: please forgive me for Aegon 😖 part two with jace and aemond will be up soon…hopefully i acquired a hand injury today soooo… whoops lol

―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―

★ cregan stark

The betrothal came with Jace after his security of the north and the Stark’s oath. You were to fly in a fortnight to Winterfell and become Lady Stark. You find yourself in tears at night but Baela spends all night with you, making you feel better about your new northern life.

You struggle but understand that you will be alone at your binding to Lord Stark. Your family is at the precipice of war and they need the alliance

The North is cold and sparse but it’s expansive desolation is half the charm. The cold will get taking used to

There is no reception and few words at your arrival other than Lord Stark, Sara Snow, and a half dozen of his men. It’s cordial and quick, as there is war to attend to

On the morning of, Cregan’s half-sister is warm and lovely, braiding your hair in the Targaryen way but dressing you in the Stark. It is foreign but quickly becoming familiar

As you walk towards the weirwood under the swirling, quiet snow, you mourn the absence of your mother and siblings. Your father, who has long since perished within the scarred halls of Harrenhal and Luke whose death still makes you shed tears.

Cregan is handsome, ruggedly so. He’s not the man you envisioned yourself with but he will more than do. You like his frost bitten cheeks and his long brown hair. You like the furs that surround his body that make him seem warm and inviting. He’s also almost a head taller than you, you can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks. You hope he chalks it up to the cold.

Cregan did not imagine marrying a Targaryen princess. But he can hardly look at you, for you are far more beautiful than he had imagined

He surprises you with a feast, not with any flowers or the grandeur of the weddings you attended in childhood but there is music, food, and people dancing. You learn quickly that the Northerner's like to have fun and enjoy a good party.

Your and Cregan’s first dance is nothing short of awkward but it’s full of laughter as he spins you around and as you step on his toes. His large hands encases your own as he guides you through the dance floor.

You forget about what’s brewing in the south and relish in the feast, while simultaneously falling in love with your husband

The bedding ceremony comes around and Cregan’s timid at first. He’s unwilling to hurt you. Sweet and kind, Cregan is not rough for now

You think forever could be lovely with him

★ aegon ii targaryen

The two of you have been betrothed since your fifth name day and doomed from the beginning

It isn’t love at first sight, not at all. In fact, he gives you the look of disgust when you first meet at his sixteenth name day tourney. Aegon makes it a point to make fun of your clothing and insults your intellect, of which he is lacking you muse.

There’s not many more meetings between the two of you before the queen suggests you acquire a room at the keep. You’re not thrilled but you cannot refuse.

It’s not until a month has passed since your arrival to the Red Keep that he decides to acknowledge your presence. There are moments in the months leading up to your union that he’s almost sweet, almost affectionate with you. In the ways that he touches your wrist, brings you things you might enjoy, or spends most of his time with you

Over time you start to believe that maybe there is love there. That you and Aegon can come to be companions and lovers. At least you can say that you are falling in love with him

On your wedding day, he takes the white and silver cloak adorned with twin Direwolves and crimson red Weirwood leaves and practically throws it to the side.

His kiss is sloppy, uncouth, and embarrassing. You don’t reciprocate instead choosing to wait out the shameless display.

Aegon gets drunk at the reception.

Far into his bottle of wine, he calls you the wolf whore. The northern barbarian, he whispers in your ear. That’s when you decide you have had enough

You’re sure that if your brother was able to join the festivities away from the castle, he would have killed Aegon

You go to bed alone on your wedding night, tears stain your sheets and serious thoughts of running away plague your mind

It’s almost dawn when there’s a knock at the door and the creak of it’s hinges stirring you from slumber, he’s quiet and tentative something you hadn’t experienced with Aegon. He crawls into the bed, but doesn’t approach your form.

He’s nervous Aegon confesses, stranger to the unknown feeling of love and respect from anyone. That there has been no teaching of what love could be or is. He admits that he could see himself learning with you

[aisiedaisie]

hiiii ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ i just found your page this morning and read through your entire masterlist and i loveeee your writing! is it possible to get royal poly!marauders at a ball or something and they catch sight of the reader (can be whatever role you wanna give them) and they are like 'damn'

Hello hello~!!!

First of all, thank you so much for patiently waiting for me to get to your request. Life has been pretty hectic on my end, so writing had to take a back seat for a little while. But today, I finally had some time to sit down and write!

Now, let me just say— this idea is absolutely amazing! I’m completely in love with royal and historical AUs, so there’s a good chance I’ll revisit this concept and or turn it into a series of drabbles. (Not that I’m particularly skilled at keeping things short!!!)

I really hope you enjoy my take on your idea 💖

edit: I got a bit carried away-

Royal Flush

part 1 | part 2

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader WC: 3.7k

The night after the neighboring kingdom’s delegation arrives, the Griffyn Kingdom buzzes with anticipation. To honor their esteemed guests— especially the visiting princess —the King and Queen have announced a grand ball. This celebration is more than an act of hospitality; it is a shining declaration of unity, a glittering prelude to alliances and promises that will shape their shared future.

You find yourself standing in Princess Lily’s chambers, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows against the ornate walls.

 Before you, Lily examines herself in a floor-length mirror, her emerald-green gown a masterpiece of silk and embroidery. You and Mary fuss over the gathered fabric at her hips, smoothing it into place with careful precision.

“I can manage the rest,” Lily murmurs, her voice gentle but decisive. She steps away, gliding toward the gilded jewelry box on her dressing table. Its lid is open, revealing an array of jewels she brought for the journey— diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires glittering alongside an assortment of tiaras.

“You two should get ready as well,” she adds, her tone as light as the shimmering necklace she picks up, its facets catching the firelight.

You pause, caught off guard. “What?” The word escapes before you can stop yourself.

Normally, Marlene would stand guard in her knightly uniform, Mary would accompany Lily throughout the event, and you would remain behind— content to watch the festivities from a quiet corner of the castle, keeping a vigilant eye on the princess’s chambers.

“There’s no need for that tonight,” Mary says, her voice warm with reassurance. She steps forward, deftly fastening the diamond necklace around Lily’s neck. The glittering stones resting perfectly against the princess’s pale freckled skin. “We’re on excellent terms with the Potters. No one here will mean us harm.”

The words hang in the air, both an assurance and an invitation. Tonight is different, you realize. 

A diamond tiara rests atop Lily’s head, its intricate design sparkling like a constellation of stars nestled in her fiery red locks. She adjusts it briefly, her reflection regal and resplendent. “You rarely get a chance to enjoy yourself during visits like this,” she says softly, her tone kind but firm. “Go on, get ready.”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips, touched by Lily’s thoughtfulness. Her generosity warms you in a way words could never fully express.

With her gentle urging, you retreat to your own room to prepare. A quick bath washes away the lingering weariness of the day, and you do your best to ready yourself for the night ahead.

Despite your efforts, a sense of inadequacy lingers. 

For such grand occasions, it’s expected that the lady's maids and companions are impeccably dressed, each carrying at least one formal gown for travels like these. 

You do have such a dress— a blush colored piece gifted to you by your mother when you first joined the palace as Lily’s lady’s maid.

The fabric clings just a little too tightly at the waist, its once flawless seams now strained from years of careful reuse. The soft blush color, though elegant, has faded slightly with time, its original vibrancy dulled by repeated wear. The bodice is adorned with modest embroidery— delicate vines and blossoms stitched in pale gold thread that catches the light just enough to hint at refinement. The skirt, while gracefully cut, feels heavier than you remember, its weight pulling at your movements as if to remind you of the weight of high society.

It was the best your family could afford when you first came to the palace— a gift from your mother, its fabric chosen to honor both simplicity and a touch of nobility. Back then, it had been a symbol of hope, a token of pride for a baroness’s daughter stepping into the royal household. 

Now, however, standing before the mirror, you can’t help but feel its inadequacy in the face of tonight’s grandeur.

Even so, you smooth the skirt with steady hands, letting your fingers trace the faint ridges of the embroidery. This night, you remind yourself, is not about the richness of your gown, but the confidence you bring and the memories you make. 

Perfection may elude you, but presence—your presence—is more than enough.

When you step back into Lily’s chambers, it’s clear everyone is ready to go. Lily, as expected, looks effortlessly regal in her emerald green dress, the rich color complementing her fiery red hair that cascades down her back in elegant waves. Mary, ever composed, is radiant in a soft yellow gown that perfectly flatters her figure, her dark hair neatly arranged in a low bun at the nape of her neck.

“You look darling,” Lily murmurs, stepping forward to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. Her touch is as light as her tone, her emerald eyes warm with affection.

You roll your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Says the actual goddess standing before me.”

“Truly,” Mary chimes in, her voice sweet as she adjusts the clasp of your necklace, ensuring it sits perfectly centered. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Before you can protest their kind words, a knock at the door interrupts the moment. Marlene peeks her head in, her light blonde hair swept back into a tidy low ponytail. “Ladies,” she announces with a bright grin, “it’s time to head down.”

Excitement ripples through the room as the evening’s promise beckons.

_____

You weren’t quite sure what to do once you stepped onto the crowded ballroom floor. Back home, state balls were familiar territory, their routines and customs etched into your memory. But here, in a foreign kingdom, uncertainty clouded your thoughts. 

Was the etiquette the same? 

Would it be seen as rude to linger by the walls, content to watch the swirl of color and movement before you?

Must you be drawn into the heart of the celebration?

Apparently so.

You stand near one of the grand marble pillars circling the ballroom, the cool stone a comforting anchor amidst the overwhelming splendor. A glass of white wine rests in your hand, a half-hearted shield against your unease. From the corner of your eye, you notice movement—a man approaching with easy confidence. His dark hair is tied into a loose, messy bun, strands slipping free to frame his sharp features. His attire marks him as a knight of the Griffyn Kingdom, though the smirk curling at his lips carries a roguish charm and confidence uncommon in most knights you’ve met.

“You must be part of the delegation,” he says, his voice smooth, his smirk deepening as his gray eyes fix on yours.

You hesitate, biting back the urge to fidget. He’s handsome, undeniably so, but you can’t quite place why he’s chosen to speak to you. With a soft sigh, you nod. “I am.”

“I thought so,” he replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “I remember seeing you earlier, standing just behind the little princess. So, why aren’t you out there, dancing?” He gestures toward the center of the room, where couples spin and sway beneath glittering chandeliers.

“I’m not particularly fond of dancing,” you say, your voice quieter than intended. It’s not entirely true, but you hope the excuse is convincing enough to deter him.

“Nonsense,” he says with a laugh, his hand extending toward you. “Anyone can see you want to. Prove me wrong, if you’d like.”

The invitation lingers between you, daring yet strangely kind.

You hesitate for just a moment, glancing at the glass in your hand before setting it down on the corner of the nearest table. Then, with a small breath of resolve, you place your hand in his. “Don’t get mad if my heels end up on your toes,” you quip, a touch of nervousness slipping into your tone.

“Trust me, I’m quite nimble. Dodging danger is part of the job,” he replies with an easy smirk, already guiding you toward the dance floor with a confidence that leaves little room for argument.

Normally, you might have countered with a quick remark of your own, but your mind is too distracted. The pounding of your heart fills your ears, drowning out coherent thought.

The lull in the music amplifies every other sound—the clack of your heels against the polished marble, the low hum of whispered voices as heads turn to watch you pass. The weight of their gazes burns into your skin, and your hands tremble slightly as the knight clears a path through the crowd, his presence commanding in a way that both unsettles and reassures you.

Other couples filter onto the dance floor as the musicians shuffle their sheet music, preparing for the next song. The murmurs of the room settle, anticipation hanging in the air.

“Well,” you manage, your voice soft as you cling to anything that might distract you from the dozens of eyes still following your every move, “it seems you’re rather popular.”

“What can I say?” he responds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I am rather handsome.” The smirk that accompanies his words is maddeningly self-assured.

Before you can respond, his hand presses gently against the middle of your back, drawing you closer. His other hand takes yours in a firm yet careful clasp, guiding you into the proper frame with a natural grace that makes it seem effortless. You barely notice the band striking the first notes of the song, your attention fixed on the storm gray eyes studying you with something close to intrigue.

You set your hand clumsily on his shoulder, your fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his maroon jacket. He doesn’t seem to mind your hesitation, his movements assured and steady as he begins to lead you through a simple waltz.

To your relief, the steps come naturally, your body quickly attuning to the rhythm of the music and the gentle guidance of his lead.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice soft, nearly lost beneath the rising swell of the orchestra.

You glance up at him, your voice barely above a whisper as you give your name.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he replies smoothly, his lips curving into a charming smile paired with a wink that, despite yourself, pulls a smile to your face.

“And you?” you counter, a touch of playfulness creeping into your tone. “Who might this oh-so-charming knight be standing before me?”

His eyes glint with amusement, their gray depths catching the light like polished steel. “Sirius,” he says simply, the name rolling off his tongue with a quiet confidence.

You nod thoughtfully, letting the music and his lead guide you effortlessly across the floor. “An attention grabbing star for an attention grabbing knight,” you muse aloud, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Seems fitting, I suppose.”

His laugh is low and warm, the sound wrapping around you like the melody. “Well, I do strive to live up to my name.”

“I doubt you have any trouble with that,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips as you hold his gaze.

The music begins to fade, the elegant notes giving way to the quiet hum of conversations around you. As the dance slows to a stop, you take a small step back, though his presence still lingers like the warmth of the ballroom’s golden glow.

“So much for not being a dancer,” he teases, his smirk as effortless as the steps he led you through.

You turn to him, unable to suppress your grin. “Maybe you were just that good of a lead,” you say sweetly, your voice light with sincerity. But before he can respond, you catch sight of Mary and Lily across the room.

“I ought to check in on my lady,” you add, inclining your head slightly. “Thank you for the dance, Sir Sirius—”

“Sirius,” he interrupts gently, his tone almost playful. “Just Sirius is fine.”

You nod, your smile softening as you take a small step back. “Fine, then. Thank you for the dance, Sirius. It was... unexpected, but I truly enjoyed it.”

With a final glance, you turn and make your way toward Mary and Lily, weaving through the gathered crowd. The warmth of his hand on yours still lingers faintly, and his name echoes in your thoughts like the fading strains of the music— a memory you suspect will stay with you far longer than the evening itself.

_____

James and Remus stepped out of the nearest sitting room, the faint hum of ballroom music echoing down the corridor. Remus, ever meticulous, adjusted James’s slightly askew collar, his fingers deftly hiding the newly formed love bites that marked the prince’s neck—evidence of their brief but heated absence.

“We need to get back before anyone notices,” James murmured, his voice low but tinged with amusement as he fixed his tousled hair.

Remus smirked. “We’re already late. Let’s hope Sirius hasn’t set the place on fire in our absence.”

But as they approached the ballroom’s grand entrance, what they saw made both men falter. There, on the dancefloor, Sirius Black was leading a woman in a waltz.

The sight itself was striking. Her blush colored dress stood out in gentle contrast against the bold, jewel toned gowns of the others swirling around her. The simplicity of her attire only seemed to magnify her elegance, and for once, Sirius appeared utterly focused, his usual roguishness tempered by something softer.

“Sirius never asks a woman to dance,” a sharp voice cut through the hum of the crowd. James and Remus glanced toward a cluster of women, their faces half hidden behind delicate feathered fans. The speaker, a haughty looking noblewoman, tilted her head knowingly, her words drawing murmurs of agreement from those around her.

Remus’s brows knit together. Sirius was notorious for politely but firmly declining the endless stream of invitations to dance he received at events like these. Yet, watching him now, Remus found he could understand why Sirius had sought out this particular partner.

She was... radiant.

“Well, isn’t she a sight to see,” James murmured, his voice just low enough for Remus to hear.

Remus nodded, his hazel eyes tracking the woman’s graceful movements. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s one of Princess Lily’s lady’s maids,” he said, his tone thoughtful.

James’s eyes widened slightly in recognition, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Is that so?” he drawled, the spark of an idea lighting his gaze.

Remus sighed, already sensing trouble. “What are you thinking, James?”

The prince’s grin only grew. “I think,” he said, “we should pay a visit to the princess. Seems like her lady’s maid could use some... royal introductions.”

_____

After reuniting with a gushing Mary and Lily, a server approaches, bowing their head politely before handing you a fresh glass of wine. You thank them quietly, though you can’t help but find their deference a little peculiar. Still, you accept the drink, shifting your attention back to the princess as she launches into a spirited account of your performance on the dance floor.

“You looked absolutely stunning out there,” Lily exclaims, her cheeks slightly flushed from the excitement of the evening—or perhaps the wine.

“She’s right,” Mary agrees with a hum, a bright smile lighting her face. “Everyone was watching. You two were the talk of the room.”

Both women had taken their turns dancing with high-ranking gentlemen throughout the night. Suitors vying for the honor of even a single waltz. Yet, they seemed convinced that your dance was the highlight.

“He’s quite a talented dancer for a knight,” Mary observes, taking a sip from her own glass.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I figured he’d be good, considering how confident he seemed. But he led me effortlessly. I barely had to think about the steps.”

“Well,” Lily interjects with a soft laugh, her hand fluttering to her lips as though trying to stifle her amusement, “that’s hardly surprising. He’s a noble, after all.”

“What?” Both you and Mary turn to her in confusion, the notion catching you both off guard. Nobles rarely became knights, considering the station beneath them. Sirius hardly seemed the exception, yet here you were.

“He’s the son of Duchess Black,” Lily explains with a slight grimace, lowering her voice. “Her sons are far more tolerable than she ever will be.”

“Lily!” Mary scolds, her eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard the princess’s blunt critique. Fortunately, the surrounding hum of conversation seemed to swallow the comment whole.

“But...” you trail off, your brows furrowing as you ask. “Did you not just dance with the heir to the duchy?”

“That would be my younger brother,” a smooth, familiar voice cuts into the conversation, making you turn sharply.

Sirius stands behind you, his easy smirk firmly in place, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in his gray eyes. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you instinctively dip your head in greeting, murmuring, “Sir Sirius.”

“Sirius,” he corrects lightly, his gaze softening as it lingers on you.

“Sirius,” you murmur, correcting yourself softly.

His smirk softens into something warmer. “You danced with Regulus, Your Highness?”

“Lily,” the princess corrects, her tone mirroring his own.

Sirius chuckles, his attention shifting to her. “Of course, Lily. So, you danced with Reg?”

“As I always do, Sirius,” she replies with a sigh, clearly anticipating where the conversation might lead. Her expression brightens, however, as her gaze lands beyond him. “Oh, James, Remus! A pleasure to see you.”

Both Mary and you instinctively bow your heads, mirroring Lily’s graceful greeting as two men approach.

“Leave the formalities for the elders,” James teases, waving his hand dismissively. “Raise your heads, ladies.”

James Potter is every bit the image of royalty, dressed in a pristine white suit adorned with a red sash. The high collar adds to his regal air, but it’s his confident posture and easy smile —so warm and almost boyish—that truly captivate.

Beside him stands a tall, broad shouldered man with tousled brown hair. The scars that trace his skin catch your eye briefly before you hastily return your attention to the prince, unwilling to appear rude. Yet, the man’s hazel gaze, calm and piercing, seems to notice everything.

“Are you all enjoying the ball?” James asks, his voice warm and smooth as his signature smile graces his lips.

Lily answers first, her response polite and poised as ever. Her agreement prompts Mary and you to nod along.

“Glad to hear it,” James replies, his smile widening. “I know Sirius was enjoying himself not too long ago,” he adds with a teasing lilt, his hand clapping Sirius on the shoulder and lingering there in a way that seems deliberate.

“It was one dance,” Sirius groans, tilting his head toward the prince in exasperation.

“One dance more than usual,” Remus chimes in, his deep, steady voice carrying a hint of humor. His hazel eyes flicker to Sirius, glinting with quiet amusement as he observes his discomfort.

James turns his gaze to you, his teasing grin softening into something gentler. “He didn’t step on your toes, did he, my lady?” he asks, the mock solemnity of his tone bringing a smile to your lips.

You shake your head, your amusement showing clearly. “Of course not.”

James bursts into laughter, the sound rich and full, drawing a few curious glances from those nearby.

“Having women cover for your clumsy footwork now— what a shame,” Remus adds, his tone dripping with mock disappointment as he shakes his head.

Sirius turns to you, lips curling into an exaggerated pout. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve egged them on.”

You shrug, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now, why would I do that, Sirius?”

“You’re killing me, doll,” he groans dramatically, prompting laughter to ripple through the small group.

The conversation shifts back to something closer to polite, though the teasing undercurrent remains. Mary moves subtly closer to you, her hand brushing comfortingly over your back. It’s then you notice the weight of the many gazes lingering on your group, a pressure you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Your eyes lower to the polished marble floor as you focus on listening to James and Lily’s easy banter, their words melding with the hum of the ballroom.

“You alright?” Remus’s voice pulls your attention. He steps closer, his question soft, laced with genuine concern.

You nod lightly. “It seems all of a sudden I’ve run out of energy,” you say, a polite fib. The truth is, this entire night has been draining, though you don’t want him to think he’s dull company. “I’m not used to parties like this,” you add quickly to clarify.

Remus’s lips curve into a smile, his expression warm and understanding. “We have lounges on the top floor for guests who need a break. You’d be welcome to rest there if you’d like.”

You shake your head gently. “I really shouldn’t, but thank you for the suggestion–”

“That’s a great idea,” Lily interjects with an encouraging smile. “Let’s rest our feet for a while.”

“I’ll let Marlene know we’re heading upstairs,” Mary offers before slipping away, likely toward one of the food tables where Marlene is undoubtedly stationed.

“We’ll escort you,” Sirius says smoothly, but Lily raises a hand, declining the offer with a polite smile.

“We’ll be fine on our own, but thank you,” she assures him.

“Of course,” James replies, bowing his head slightly.

Mary returns soon after, accompanied by Marlene, who carries a golden plate piled high with delicate finger foods.

“Enjoy your rest,” James says with a gracious nod, his tone sincere though his smile holds a trace of teasing warmth.

The women dip their heads in thanks before retreating upstairs to find a quiet lounge.

_____

As soon as they’re out of earshot, James turns to Sirius with a mischievous smirk. “Well, wasn’t she a sweetheart?” he asks, his teasing tone unmistakable.

“She’s polite but knows how to hold her own. I’d say you’ve chosen well, Sirius,” Remus adds with an approving nod.

“If you two hadn’t left me—” Sirius starts, a hint of irritation coloring his words.

“We did say you could join us,” James cuts in, raising his hand as if to defend himself.

“And you know damn well if all three of us disappeared, people would notice,” Sirius counters, arching an eyebrow.

James shrugs, entirely unbothered. “Your loss.”

“Not entirely,” Sirius says with a wolfish grin. “It just means we can take our time later.”

“No visible marks,” Remus warns, his voice carrying the weight of experience. “We’ll have guests for a while.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, his grin unwavering. “It’ll be fine—it’s never stopped us before.”

Remus sighs, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Fair enough.”

[fishbonex]

Sharp thoughts 1/2

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Your friendship with Mel slowly begins to crumble.

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, suggestion of sexual acts.

Word Count: 1K

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Mel was easily the best person you had ever met in your life. She was a spectacle in every way. Having her as your friend was comforting and opened many doors for you as an scientist and researcher.

Life seemed good for you, using a high-tech laboratory, with access to everything a scientist could want and thanks to Mel, contacts with several investors who might be interested in your work.

Unfortunately, Mel Medarda was too much for you.

You didn't notice when your heart started to swell when you thought about her, before you realized it, you could no longer think about her without letting out a sigh. Everything about her was... too much.

The delicate face, the graceful way she moves, the constant tinkling that is present due to her gold jewelry, the voice that seems to embrace you when she speaks to you.

You began to find yourself looking forward to her visits to your lab, or to going to see her in her luxurious quarters. This was why you worked so hard, because you loved your research, and so you had something interesting to show her. A reason to see her.

With that in mind, you stayed late in the lab, finishing a report on your latest research. You were going to show it to Mel and as a councilor, she was supposed to read it and debate whether or not to take your study to the next Council meeting.

Scanning quickly to make sure everything was okay, you stood up with a satisfied sigh. Mel's quarters weren't that far away.

You left the Academy building and walked quickly until you reached the large building where Mel's apartment was. Elora wouldn't be there at this time, and Mel had once said that you were welcome to visit her at any time. You entered the elevator and soon arrived in the lobby of the luxurious apartment. Feeling strange about the silence, you thought about calling her, but stopped when you thought you heard something. A sigh.

A moan.

You turned your head, towards where you knew Mel's suite was. You could have heard wrong, you were almost sure of that when you heard it again.

It was her voice. You were sure of it. Then she moaned again. A name this time. Jayce.

Jayce. Jayce Talis.

Your heart sank and your breath caught for a moment, until you realized you were invading her privacy. You turned and left, trying to do as little noise as possible.

You didn't see Mel for the next few days, not because you were trying to avoid her, but because you were busy working on something for Heimerdinger, and she was also working a lot, apparently.

That's why you were slightly startled when the door to your lab opened and the click of her heels was heard, followed by her melodious voice.

"Working so hard that you didn't have time to come see me?" she asked with a slight laugh in her voice. It irritated you.

"What do you mean?" you tried to focus on the project on your desk.

"I heard about the research you did, and that you gave it to Heimerdinger. Why didn't you bring it to me, like always?" she walked over to you and leaned against the desk.

"He was the first counselor I met when I finished, then." you lied, feeling the bitter taste in your mouth.

"Oh, so that's how it is." she let out a playful chuckle. "I thought we had an alliance."

Her presence felt too close, but you swallowed hard and lifted your face, meeting hers.

"Sorry, I just don't have much time to look for you." you sounded more irritated than you wanted.

Her relaxed expression faltered and she straightened her posture. "Hey, I'm just kidding." she brought one of her manicured hands to your forearm.

"Sorry." you shook your head and looked back at the notes on your desk. "I'm just... really annoyed with work."

"We all are. When you have some free time, why don't you come over to my place? I painted something new, I think you'll like it." she offered softly.

You nearly melted at her offer, the earlier irritation almost forgotten, “Sure, I’d love to.”

So that night you took the path you knew so well. The surprise this time wasn't as unpleasant as the last. Jayce was there again, lying down, his head in Mel's lap. She was comforting him about something. An intimate and tender moment. You turned around and left again.

Well, this time you were avoiding her. Leaving the lab at times when you knew she would visit you, avoiding the council building and staying away from her apartment. Elora even came to you, notifying you that Councilor Medarda wanted to see you, but you politely said that you were very busy.

Your irritation worsened when she appointed him as an advisor. It was at that moment that you knew you would never reach her level, no matter what you did.

Your favorite place to be away from the lab was the fountain in the park, with the purple leaves blowing in the wind. That's where you found yourself at the moment, absentmindedly playing with a pen in your hand, waiting for the time to pass.

"You told Elora you had too much work to take the time to see me." the velvety voice spoke from behind you, slightly irritated. "You don't seem very busy right now."

You turned your face to see her standing there, close to the bench where you were sitting.

"Counselor Medarda." you greeted politely. "Forgive me for the misunderstanding-"

"What joke is this?" she said more irritated than before, her serene face distorting into an angry expression. "What's gotten into you?"

"I have to work, Councilor, I'm afraid I'm not the richest woman in Piltover." you hinted. "I can't afford to lose my sponsorships."

"I work too, and at work I don't have many friends. That's why I value the few friendships I have." she walked up to you. "Like yours."

"Oh, you don't have any friends?" you scoffed. "And bed partners?"

"What?" she took a step back, her expression faltering.

"That's exactly what I witnessed when I went to you to deliver my research, counselor." you replied irritably. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Mel was silent, standing there as you walked back to your lab.

[izelthewashbear]

Life series theory / analysis

// SPOILERS for Wild Life finale!

Okay so I have a theory about the winners and their character development throught the series:

Is it just me, or is Joel the only winner who had a positive character development through the series?

Just so that we're on the same page: Character development refers to cultivating certain traits in individuals that help guide their behavior. That means positive character development cultivates positive traits in a person, and negative character development (yes it's a thing) cultivates the negative traits. I was thinking about the finale of Wild Life and all of the winners and honestly? Joel seems to be the only one with positive character development. Also, I'm only talking about the characters, not the content creators, just so that there are no weird insinuations.

Let's go over the winners first, shall we?

Grian - the creator of Life and the one establishing the rules - immediately goes on to break them with an unprovoked green-on-green kill on Scar. Not to mention the toxic codependent yaoi these two developed on the desert and still can't leave behind.

Scott - the guy who was seen as one of the most loyal, ended up winning while avenging all of his fallen allies - learning that even alliances are fleeting and he can't keep himself too tied to anyone. The moment the next game starts, he almost immediately bounces from his goverment assigned soulmate and isn't really keen on making things even between them. Even at the end, the decision to sacrifice himself for Pearl is his and his only.

Pearl - do I even have to say it? Being rejected by the one person who was supposed to have her back, she turned on everyone and seemed better for it. Her trauma was not her fault, and neither was the negative character development - but it did occur.

Martyn - I could write a whole essay on LimL!Martyn and one day I shall do that. The guy that lost his therapy dog for 24h and proceeded to make enemies all across server, gain one (1) ally and backstab him at the final moment. Like cmon.

Scar - the somewhat oblivious, but kindhearted social butterfly (U think I can call him that?) decided he's better on his own and withdrew from the others, slowly turning into the villain of the server. Every time he had allies, he ended up worse for it - but this one time, even he couldn't believe "How did the guy with no friends win?"

Cleo - okay this one is a bit murky, since Real life was so short (and some people even consider it non canon but I digress). I'd just say that it was so short, they didn't really have any time for character development - but if you saw something interesting, lemme know.

And then there's Joel. The guy who struggles with keeping alliances and the moment he turns red, he only sees red. But the one time he starts depending on his family, the one time when he tries to keep himself out of red for as long as possible and doesn't fully give in to the bloodlust after turning red - he wins.

Anyways thank you for coming to my TED talk, if you noticed anything interesting lemme know Also this is like not very serious, I haven't watched all winners POVs so sorry if I accidentally mixed something up

[httpvomitello]

Cold Heart *⁠.⁠✧ (part 2)

cregan stark x targ!reader

WARNING: angst, not a happy ending (?)

(part 1) (part 3)

The days following your outburst in the Great Hall passed in a haze. You avoided Cregan as much as possible, and he seemed content to let the silence stretch between you. The icy walls of Winterfell felt more like a prison than ever before.

Rickon, sensing the tension but not understanding its source, clung to you with a desperation that only deepened your heartbreak. He asked you once, in his small, hesitant voice, if you were angry with his father.

“No, sweetling,” you whispered, stroking his dark hair. “I’m just… tired.”

It wasn’t a lie. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you—not from the duties of being Lady of Winterfell, but from the constant ache of loving a man who would never love you back.

One evening, unable to bear the silence any longer, you sat at your writing desk and penned a letter to your mother.

Mother,

I have done all that was asked of me. I have been patient. I have been kind. But I cannot thaw the North, and I cannot make a man love me who does not wish to. My heart feels as if it has been crushed beneath the weight of a thousand winters. I wonder if this alliance was worth the cost.

You stared at the words for a long time, your quill hovering above the parchment.

Do you even know what you have done to me?

Your hand trembled as you added the final line. You folded the letter carefully, but you could not bring yourself to summon the raven. What good would it do? Rhaenyra would only remind you of your duty, of the importance of the alliance, of the greater good.

The letter remained tucked away in the desk, a secret burden you carried alone.

The tension between you and Cregan finally came to a head late one night. The storm outside was fierce, the winds howling like wolves at the gates. You had been restless, pacing your chambers, when the door opened, and Cregan stepped inside.

He looked as tired as you felt, his shoulders heavy with some unseen weight. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, regarding you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“What do you want, Cregan?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended.

“I came to speak,” he said, his tone measured.

“You’ve had months to speak,” you replied, turning away from him. “And yet you’ve said nothing.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You never know what to say. You never know how to feel. You don’t even know how to look at me without seeing her shadow.”

His jaw tightened, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of anger in his eyes.

“Do not speak of things you don’t understand,” he said, his voice low and warning.

“Don’t I?” you shot back, turning to face him fully. “I understand better than you think. I understand what it means to love someone so deeply it consumes you. But you—” Your voice broke, and you forced yourself to continue. “You’ve never given me the chance to show you what we could be. You won’t even try.”

Cregan took a step forward, his expression stormy. “And what would you have me do? Forget her? Pretend she never existed?”

“I would have you see me!” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “I am not her, Cregan, and I never will be. But I am here. I have been here, trying, every single day, and you—”

Your voice faltered as he closed the distance between you. For a moment, you thought he might reach for you, might finally break through the walls he had built.

But he didn’t.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t give you what you want.”

The finality in his words shattered something inside you. You stepped back, your breath hitching as you tried to compose yourself.

“Then why did you marry me?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Because I had to,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty that hurt more than any lie could have. “Because the North needed it. Because Rickon needed it. But I never wanted this, and I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stared at him, your heart breaking all over again. “But you have,” you said quietly. “You’ve hurt me more than you’ll ever know.”

Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in the silence of your chambers.

The days that followed were colder than ever, though the snow had stopped falling. You threw yourself into your duties, avoiding Cregan whenever possible. Rickon became your solace, his innocent laughter the only thing that kept you from succumbing to the despair that threatened to consume you.

But even he could not erase the emptiness in your heart.

Late one night, unable to sleep, you found yourself standing before the godswood. The heart tree loomed above you, its ancient branches creaking in the wind. You knelt before it, tears streaming down your face as you whispered a prayer to gods you didn’t fully believe in.

“Give me the strength to bear this,” you pleaded. “Or give me the freedom to leave.”

The gods, as always, were silent.

[lotstradamus]

have you read any books as good as captive prince in terms of plot :/ im desperate!!!

the only series I've read that really evoke that Captive Princeish countries-on-the-brink-of-war, shifting alliances, spies, WHAT IS HAAPPEENNINGING vibe are The Masquerade by Seth Dickinson (The Traitor Baru Cormorant is book #1) and The Queen's Thief by Megan Whalen Turner (The Thief is book #1).

both of those series deliver a Prince's Gambit Patran Soldiers Arriving On The Field At Hellay jaw-dropper and are so SO satisfying. they will also make you cry LIKE a little bitch lmao

OH MY GOD ALSO??? HELLO???? C. S. PACAT'S NEW YA* FANTASY SERIES DARK RISE??????????? (Dark Rise book #1!!!) we're only on book 2 of 3 but I trust her enough to say: you absolutely have to read it now immediately. on the surface the plot seems SOOOO simple and straightforward (it's VERY pastoral English 20th century children's fantasy vibes, but it's C. S. Pacat so...) but thematically it's very similar to Captive Prince: dead brother angst, hidden identities, sexually fraught gold collars, hot blond bitches and WAR. and sis THEE twists. THEE levels. I spent 85% of the first book like yeah okay I guess I'm into this and the last 15% with my mouth open in shock. I read book two in one sitting the day it came out and transformed from a woman into a sentient scream. 10/10.

*I have to laugh... ok girl ! filth !

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 1-Wet dreams-Illumi/Reader

Notes:  btw since you also come from a famous assassin clan your last name is Yomi(shadow in japanese, but it doesnt really mean your japanese or any aithnecity) and your parents make a brief appearance. I modeled them barely after my own parents but you can pretty much put any parents over them lol

Title from ‘You Can't Hurry Love' by The Supremes

...

Illumis knew you hated his guts. You walked with purpose from room to room, location to location, perfectly made up and neat in a kimono. You chatted with your assistants, handed out raises generously to the butlers, and laughed and smiled in the garden with your friends. But you barely spared him a glance. All you could muster was a small, fake smile, and maybe if you were in a good mood, a simple greeting. 

“Hello, husband.”

You ground out the word ‘husband’ like it was a curse. Illumi would simply blink, and return your greeting.

“Hello, my wife.”

You would smile that fake plastic smile that always managed to appear when he was near, and remove yourself from the situation as fast as possible. Illumi didn't mind your attitude. He had no attachments to you, you were simply a woman his parents had picked. He knew you hadn't volunteered for this, and so he simply let your barbs roll off his shoulders and carried on with his day. He was sure he had no interest in you. 

His parents had raised him not to fall for pretty women with pretty smiles. Pretty smiles that were never tossed his way. 

He remembered so clearly your first meeting. Years ago, when you were both younger, when you were softer, when you smiled at him.

♡♡♡

“Straighten your collar.” Mother said. Illumis back twitched, reaching up to fiddle with the black collar of his kimono, pulling the white of his undershirt slightly, so it peaked over the outer collar. He felt stiff and trapped. And hot. Mother had combed his shoulder length hair neatly, so it fell prettily around his neck. Illumi felt like a bird, forced to preen for the sake of his parents. eighteen was too young to be engaged. Illumi frowned, brows furrowing across his pale skin.

“Tell me mother,” He asks. “Why must I do this? Why not Miluki.”

His mother cocks an eyebrow, standing across the small waiting room of their house. They are waiting for the guests.

“You're the most presentable of my children,” Kikyo said, straightening the hem of her dark purple kimono. Her eye visor blinked. “Straighten your back and try to make a good impression. That wedding Kimono was your fathers.”

Illumi raises his arm to run a hand through his hair, but freezes and Kikyo's glare. He lowers his hand back down slowly. Kikyo folds her hands delicately across her lap

“You know how important this alliance is, Illumi.” She scolds, “her family will be a vital asset.”

Illumi nods stiffly, adjusting his black haori. He doesn't want to marry. He doesn't want someone tying him down. 

“Excited, son?” Silva has arrived, Zeno grumbling behind him. Illumi shakes his head.

“I don't want to marry,” He protests. SIlva laughs, landing a hand on Illumis shoulder.

“I know, but this match is quite important to the future of the Zoldyck clan.” He explains, patting Illumi gently on the shoulder. “Name is a powerful woman, whose talent will certainly be useful in the future. Not to mention an alliance with her family is ideal for us.”

Illumi nods obediently, absorbing the information. But nothing they say truly makes him want to do this. Silva laughs.

“Don't be too upset, son. I hear she's very beautiful.” He says with a chuckle, giving Illumi one last pat on the back, and moving towards Kikyo. She eyes him up and down, taking in his work attire, and sighs a great, gusty sigh. Before she can complain, the main door opens with a slam. They're here.

Kikyo stands tall, Silva next to her, Illumi beside him, Zeno on his other side. They stand in a neat line. Awaiting their visitors.

Illumi can make out five figures. Two silent handmaidens clothed in dark blue kimonos, sharp eyes demurely pointed down. Their obviously trained bodyguards. They walk in front of the three figures, deceptive smiles on their faces. 

Next come two older figures. A tall, muscled man, who glares around the room. And a shorter woman, who smiles almost too kindly. They must be your parents, the leaders of your family. And before the, almost surrounded, almost protected, is a figure clothed in white and red.

You stand out brilliantly against the blues and blacks of the backgrounds, the white and red of your kimono almost glowing in the lamplight. But what strikes Illumi silent, is your face. You are beautiful. Illumi feels a weird beating in his chest. Your eyes dart nervously from person to person, never quite landing on him. Illumi fights down the odd desire to move forward, to do something. He doesn't know what. Kikyo is the first to speak

“How lovely to meet you,” She says, moving forward. Your mother moves in return, smiling at Kikyo and moving forward. The adults dissolve into pleasantries. Illumi stays still, as the room springs into motion around him. All he can see is you across from, glowing and clothed in white. Spit is gathering in his mouth, and Illumi gulps it down and moves forward.

“Hello,” He says when he stands before you. He sounds like a robot. You smile shyly, ribbons of hair falling down around your shoulders.

“Hi,” You say, offering a hand. Illumi looks at it. Your hand is small and delicate, with small rounded nails. They shimmered in the light. Illumi had the urge to kiss it. You frown.

“Not one for handshakes?” You ask, disguising your disappointment with a small laugh. Illumi frowns, grabbing your hand as it recedes.

“No!” Illumi gets out a little too eargerly. You look up at him, confusion in your pretty eyes. Illumi takes your hand in his own.

Your hand is soft and the back of his neck and his ears suddenly hot. You giggle nervously as Illumi gently lowers your hand, and a pretty flush graces your cheeks. Illumi almost preens like a bird. You liked him. He liked that. He liked you. 

“We haven't introduced ourselves properly,” You say, a smile gracing your painted lips, Illumis eyes follow the movement. He feels strangely hungry. 

“Yes,” He says. You wait, and when the silence continues, you speak first.

“I am Name Lastname, oldest daughter of the Yomi family.” You say. Your name is as pretty as you. Illumi nods.

“Illumi Zoldyck, eldest son of the Zoldyke family.” He says. You smile again, posture relaxing a little. Illumis eyes catch on the flash of skin as your collar slides down a bit. He can see a hint of collarbone.

“It's nice to meet you, Illumi,” You say. He likes the way your mouth forms the syllables of his name.

“You too, Name.” He returns. He still sounds like a robot, but as you smile, he feels himself relax a bit. The adults are still chatting around you, in a small circle as they talk about anything and everything, but all he can see is you in front of him. Suddenly, marriage doesn't sound so bad.

“Do you, um, want a tour?” he asks, his voice cracking a bit, he hopes you don't notice. A grin lights up your face, and you nod happily.

Oh yes,” You say, “i'd love one.”

Illumi almost smiles, but instead offers his arm. For a moment, he worries your won't take it. You’ll scoff and roll your eyes and leave to marry a much nicer boy—

Your hand wraps around his arm, heating his cold skin. Illumi shivers. As he leads you through the archway and deeper into the house, he can feel your presence next to him. The scent of your perfume lingers in the air. Intoxicating. Illumi feels hot, flustered, and emberassed. And for the first time in a while, happy.

“Well, what do we have here.” 

Illumi looks up, already dreading the sight he knows hes gonna see. Sure enough, Hisoka stands before him, wearing jeans and a black tutrleneck and grinning like the cat that got the cream.

Illumi frowns.

“Whose this?” You asks. Your peartched beside him on the couch of the library, hands folded neatly in your lap. Illumi holds back a groan as Hisokas eyes slide to you. His eyes take you in, your pretty face and your white wedding kimono, and he smirks. 

“Yeah Illumi, introduce me to your pretty lady friend.” Hisoka says. You giggle, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Illumi’s stomach sinks. 

“This is Name, my fiance.” he says. “Name, meet Hisoka.”

“Hi,” You say, offering your hand to shake. Hisoka grins. 

“Positivly enchanted to meet you.” Hisoka says, and grips your hand in his pale fingers, bringing it up to press a kiss to the top. Illumi glares. You giggle again, as the tips of Hisokas red hair brushes your wrist. Illumi glares harder. After what feels like forever, Hisoka recedes, and Illumi watches your hand fall back into your lap. 

“So, Illumi.” Hisoka says, plopping between the two of you. “You didint tell me you were engaged.”

“In his defense, we just got engageed today.” You say, and Illumi is certain he can spot a blush across your cheeks. He curses Hisoka as you continue. “Are you guys close?”

“No.” Illumi says. HIsoka pouts very fakely.

“How rude.” He says, and illumi digs his finger into Hisokas side as the man leans over, stage whispering into your ear.  “Im his only friend. Hes embarrassed.”

“I see,” You say with a laugh. “How old are you Hisoka?”

“20.” Hisoka says, swiping his hair away from his face. 

“Oh, your older than us, huh.” You say, smiling much to nicely for Illumis liking. You sound like your enjoying yourself, and that makes him feel weird. 

“You must be the same age as Illumi?” Hisoka asks. He continues at your nod. “Your so pretty and socialable, hes lucky..”

You laugh. Hisoka winks. Illumi jabs a second finger into Hisoka’s side.

“Thanks, your handsome too.” You say. “And very funny. Both of you are.”

Illumi digs a third finger into Hisoka’s side, but it only seems to egg him on. He only shoots Illumi a gleeful grin, then turns back to you.

“Why thank you, dear—”

“Im going to talk to him alone for a moment.” Illumi interrupts him, yaking him by his hair and dragging him away.

“Alright.” You say, waving them away with a smile.

Hisoka blows you a kiss, and Illumi yanks his hair harder, dragging him around a nearby bookcase, and release the hair like it had burned him. Hisoka is grinning from ear to ear.

“You jealous.” He says

“No!” Illumi shouts, then looks around frantically, before shaking his head. “No.” He repeats more calmly.

“Dont be embarrassed,” Hisoka says, leaning against the bookcase. “Its only natural to be jealous of me after all.” 

He runs a hand through his hair with a grin. Illumi fake gags. 

“Im not jealous.” Illumi says, doing his best to maintain his eaven tone.

“Oh really” Hisoki says, raising an eyebrow into his hairline. “Can i kiss her then?”

Illumi knows it bait. Hisoka is only doing this to annoy him, or taunt him. He always does shit like this. But he still feels all wierd. Illumi takes a deep breath.

“I dont care.” He says, putting on his best performance. “I dont even like her.”

“Oh yeah?” Hisoka asks, folding his arms. “You dont think shes pretty?”

“She’s unremarkable.” Illumi suplies, Hisoka doesnt look like he believes him, so he tries his best. “In everything, from looks to talents, she seems unfit to marry into this family!”

Hisoka’s eyebrow creeps higher and higher, but Illumi maintains his blank stair until he with a sigh. Theres silence for a moment, until Hisoka pushes off the bookcase, 

“If you really dont mind, i think i will kiss her.” He says, walking back the way they came. 

Illumi moves suddenly, grabbing Hisokas arm in a death grip. Hisoka turns around with a smirk, and sudcenly, Illumi understands hes been got.

“So you do li—”

“Shut up.” Illumi grinds out. “Dont tell.”

Hisoka grins. “Sure.”

♡♡♡

You never were friendly with him after that. You had vanished when he and Hisoka had returned, and you were cold and standoffish in the times he saw you, both before the wedding and in the two years that had passed after it. Illumi didint mind. Not a bit.

His chest feels a bit weird. Illumi brings his hand up, feeling above his heart. Maybe he was injured on todays mission.

He should check that out when he gets back to his quarters. Illumi walks down the long hallway, pausing for a split second in front of the only other door. Your door. You wouldnt want to see him. Still Illumi feels the urge to open your door, go in and see what you were doing. You were probably getting ready for bed. Illumi should just go to his room. With a huff of breath Illumi continues down the hallway and closes his door behin him. His chest is hurting more. He shrugs of his top, pocking at the skin over his heart. Oddly enough, theres no wound, only a few minor cuts on his side and abs. 

“Illumi? I need to speake with you.” He hears your voice, coming from the connecting door between your room and his. His heart suddenly feels better.

“Come in.” He says. You enter, closing the door behind you with a creak. The hinges must be rusted. Your eyes skan him up and down taking in his half naked state.

“Why are you shirtless.” You say. Your ears are red, you must be hot.

Illumi gestures at his chest. “Injuries. What did you need to speak with me about?”

You ignore the first part, moving forward with worry. “Your injured?” You say, looking around the room. “Wheres your first aid kit. Ill help.”

“Theres no need.” Illumi protests. 

You glare. “Am i that incompetent? Just let me do it.” you say, hands on your hips. Your wearing some satin nightgown thing. Its black, and the silky fabric stops high up on your thighs, fluttering distractingly. The fabric draws his eyes to the unbleamashed skin of your thighs. 

You tap your foot on the floor. “First aid box?”

“In the bedside drawer.” Illumi settles back onto the bed with a sigh, you march over, first aid box in your vengeful hands and plop it down onto the bed. Rummaging through it, you find some alcohol and dab it onto a cotton pad. Illumi feels your breath on his skin as you bed over, disinfecting his first wound. He feels weird.

“You wanted to talk to me?” He prompts, ignoring the strange feelings in his gut. The silk of your nightgown slips a little, a black strap sliding down one sholder. You move it back up. Illumi moves his eyes from the movement. 

“Oh yeah,” You say, gentle hands placing a bandaid on his wound. “I had tea with Kikyo this afternoon.”

Illumi frowns. Kikyo loves you, and always makes sure to assure him hes lucky to have you. Whenever the two of you have tea, its sure to prelude an angry summon and admonishment. His mother believed he wasnt working hard enough on your relationship. Illumi knew you would prefer he just leave you alone. His mother always rambled on about how you were hurt, and he was a fool. Illumi was not a fool.

“Fun.” Illumi says. You move to disinfect another wound.  “How is she.”

“Good. She wants grandchildren.” You say. Your neck is also red. Illumi coughs.

“Are you hot?” Illumi asks. You frown in confusion.

“No?” You say. You look up, and Illumi watches the lace slide across the top of your boobs. He digs a hand into his thigh, trying to mute the arousal starting to creep through his body. He deosnt know much of sexual activity, but he certainly knoews this feeling. 

“Ok.” Illumi says. You put one of his brothers discarded little mermaid bandaids on the cut under his left pec. He shivers involuntarily when your nails scrape his skin. “I can get grandchildren.”

You jerck up, a shocked expression on your face. “What?” Your face is flushed, the cotton pad dangling close to falling from your hand. He feels himself swell up, body heating with the things he had implied, and prays you dont notice. Illumi frowns his, heat gathering in his face. 

“I can go steal some.” He explains, “Hisoka meantoned a friend of his who—”

“No Illumi.” You say, laughing a little. Illumi is proud he made you laugh. You move back towards him with the cotton pad as you continue. “How is Hisoka doing?”

“Fine.” Illumi says. He feels all grumply all of a sudden, and his heart is hurting again. “Hes fighting at Heavens Arena appearently.”

“That sounds perfect for him.” You say with another chuckle. Illumi feels his fingers dig into his palm, and relaxes them slowly. The arousal, which had faded slightly at Hisoka’s name, comes back in full force as your hands return and you lean down. Illumi gets and eyefull of your boobs, cupped in a plane black braw under the black lace. He looks up abruptly, begging you dont notice. You would probably never talk to him again if he made his arousal obvious. Thankfully your too busy tending to his wounds to notice.

“Anyway, Kikyo gave me something to give to you.” You say, your hand pressing a third bandaid, this one of lego batman, onto his abs. You smooth over it, hands lingering for what feels like hours on his abs. Illumi resists the urge to grab your wrists and guid them a few inches lower, to the part of him that really, really wants it. You sigh, pulling back

“There, all done.” You say.

Illumi feels both let down and relieved as you pull away, as your scent fades away with your body. Suddenly, you’re jerked to a stop.

“Illumi?” You say, glaring down pointedly. For a moment, Illumi fears you’ve discovered his obvious arousal. You’ll probably look at him in disgust or worse, storm from the room and nevver talk to him again. Illumi follows your eyes, and finds his hand has reached out to grab your wrist. He lets it go.

“What did you have to give to me?” he asks, pulling the offending hand back into his lap, trying to subtly cover any hints of his arousal.

“Oh right,” You say. “I forgot it in my room.” 

You move through the door again, and Illumi finds his eyes drawn to the sway of satin over your ass. He curses his eyes, and takes a moment to at least try to banish all signs of arousal before you retur n. 

“Here,” You say. In your hand is a vhs tape. “She said you should watch it.”

Illumi takes the tape and drops it thoughtlessly onto the bed beside him. You turn, moving back towards the door. Illumi feels the odd urge not to let you leave. Its probably the arousal talking.

“Wait.” He says impulsive. Your turn.

“Yes?” You ask, tapping a foot on the floor. “What else?”

Illumi frowns helplessly. He feels the strongest urge to keep you here with him. But your glaring at him, and he cant come up with an excuse to stop you from leaving. So he lets you go.

“Nothing.” 

The door slams behind you and his eyes sink to the Vhs tape beside him. Its obviously old, the label worn with age. It says ‘instructional tape,’. Gingerly, Illumi sets the vhs tape on his coffee table, and with sweaty hands, and arousal pumping through his body, goes to change for bed.

♡♡♡

 Your tyring to walk away from him again. Desperation fuiling his fingertips, Illumi reaches for you. If you leave now, through the black hole of a door between your rooms, he knoes he’ll never see you again. Illumi feels his fingers close around your thin wrists, jerking you to a stop. You turn, looking down at the hand wrapped around your wrist.

“What do you want, Illumi?” You ask. The black fabric of your nightgown highlights your skin, and you look so beautiful under the lowlight. Illumi finds himself taking a deep breath.

“Mother wants grandchildren.” He says, voice stilted. You nod, as he continues. “So, we should maker her some.”

You stare at him for a moment, before yanking your arm from his wrists. Illumi almost begs you to stay. You cant go, you cant reject him like this. He doesnt know if he’ll ever recover. But instead of rejecting him, you bring your hand up, tipping the strap of your night gown down your shoulder. Illumi watches as the black fabric slinks down your body, hugging your every curve as it slides down until it falls off your hips and hits the floor without a sound. Your left clothed only in your simple black bra and matching panties. Illumi feels his dick swelling with exitement in his pants as he reaches out, hands shaking to grip your waist delicately. He feels as if you might break if he grips to hard, or you might leave if he holds you too soft. You smile at him.

“I thought you’d never agree.” You say, a vision before him. Illumi feels the urge to comfort you. Gingerly, stifly, he pulls you into a hug. Your body is so much warmer than his, your temperature leaking off your skin and sinking into his own. He can smell your scent to clearly he almosts tastes it. 

“Ill do whatever you want.” Illumi says truthfully, and before the embarrassment sinks in, he pulls back enough to press a kiss to your lips.

Illumi has only ever kissed one girl. Ounce. On a dare from Hisoka. When he was thirteen. So its safe to say he doesnt have the most experience. He can tell you dont either, but that fine. You’ll figure it out together. The first press of lips is simple, just your lips colliding softly. And then the little knowledge Illumi had read begins to kick in and he moves his lips against yours. You smile against him, hands gripping his muscled shoulders as he winds his own arms around your bare waist. Your skin is so hot, hot like your breath as it collides hits his lips when the two of you pull back. 

You step backwards drawing him forward until your bug hits the bed and the two of you tumble onto it with a thud. You giggle a little, and move back in for another kiss. He can feel his body reacting to your touch, to your kiss, and as you girp his bare shoulders, he bites back a groan. He wants you so bad, he practically achs for it. 

You pull away from his lips, reaching around your back to undo the strange clasp that holds your braw together. Illumi watches in awe as you tosse it to the side, followed by your underwhere. 

“Look Illumi,” You say, grabbing his hand and tracing it down. Down your chest, through the valley of your boobs. Down your abdomen and navel and through the hair below to find something. Illumi watches in fascination as you press his fingers into a wet heat. “I want you so bad.”

Your back arches off the bed, body curving with what seams like pleasure as a small sigh escapes from your lips. Illumi feels himself twitch.

“Can i put it in?” He says, somehow sounding even more emotionless than usual. You nod, letting go of his wrist to bring your own hands to his crotch, pawing at the bulge in his pants. Illumi fights down another groan, shedding his pants and quickly as possible. Your lying on your back when he gets back, your legs propped up, and grinning. Illumi carefully grips himself, and concentrates on finding the prize you had shown him before. The wet heat is easy to find again, and Illumi carefully lines himself up before pressing himself inside.

Your mouth opens in a moan of his name, and Illumi almost lets go as he feels what must be heaven for the first time. He goes as slowly as possible, as your hands scrabble, gripping his wrists, the sheets beneath you, the nipple of your boobs until hes fully sinside of you, body between your spread legs, hands digging into the comforter on either side of you.

Strands of hair are caught in the sweat of his back, while others tumble down to brush your boobs. Illumi lets out a small groan. 

“Move,” You say. You must see his look of confusion, because you grin up through eyes hazy with arousal. “Grab my waist and thrust in and out.”

Illumi obeys, watching as your back arches, and your eys close in what must be pleasure. Its addictive to watch you, his eyes darting back and forth between your face and the places where your bodies connect. The world around him is hazy, your the focus. You always have been. The pleasure in his body is building. He feels like a chord is wrapping nots in his gut, and its going to snap. As if to match him, you grip his wrists.

“Almost there baby.” You moan. Illumi’s hips stutter as you continue. “Kiss me.”

Illumi feels himself close to loosing control, and with the last bit of his sanity, bends down to kiss your lips—

He wakes up tangled in his sheets, with the words ‘I love you’ on his lips and a wet spot staining his pants. 

After a cold shower and a long thought, Illumi decides that maybe its time to woo his wife. He sets off down the hall with his usual blank expression, but fi you looked close, there was a small bounce in his step.

.......

Endnotes: yaya first day done! btw i think the fanfic writer curse got me too, a bunch of person stuff was happening and i was already upset and i was preparing for kinktober...

and then BAM!!!

my grandma died!!!

btw if stuff is a little late thats why, cause im also sewing the dress im gonna wear, because she used to sew(im actually using her old machine)

anway, enjoy your smut dosage!!

[sansaorgana]

— DAMAGED GOODS

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC

SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍

WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding

WORD COUNT — 6,610

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAMAGED GOODS

Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.

They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.

“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.

The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.

“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.

“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”

“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”

“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.

The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.

“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.

Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.

“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.

“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.

About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.

(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.

They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.

The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.

(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.

She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable. 

(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.

The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.

“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.

The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.

“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.

“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”

“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”

“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.

“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.

“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”

“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.

“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”

Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.

The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.

“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.

“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.

“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.

He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.

“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.

“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.

“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.

“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.

He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.

She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.

In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.

“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.

“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.

“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”

“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.

“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.

“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.

“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.

Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.

“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.

“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.

“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.

“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.

As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.

That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.

Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.

And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.

Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.

At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.

“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.

“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”

“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.

“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.

“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.

“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.

But only one of them loved her… so much.

She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.

“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.

“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.

Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.

“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”

She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.

“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.

“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.

She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.

“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.

Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.

“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”

Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.

He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.

“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.

“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.

“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.

“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.

“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.

“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.

“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.

“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.

“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.

His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.

“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.

She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.

When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.

“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.

But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.

Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls. 

He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.

Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.

No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.

He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.

After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.

She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.

“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.

He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.

“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.

“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”

“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.

“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”

“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.

She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.

Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.

“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.

In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too. 

He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.

On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”

He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.

“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.

She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.

She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.

“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.

He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.

“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.

She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.

He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.

What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.

None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.

She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.

His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.

“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.

When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.

“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.

He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.

The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.

Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.

Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.

“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”

“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.

“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”

“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.

“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.

“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.

“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”

Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.

“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”

Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.

At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.

“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.

“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”

Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.

“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”

“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.

“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”

“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”

“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”

(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.

“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.

“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.

Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.

“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.

Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.

He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.

“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.

“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.

She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.

“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.

She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:

“I am.”

MASTERLIST

[flowerandblood]

Object of Despair (2/3)

[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, oral sex, fingering, hate sex, smut, angst, domination, violence, swearing, humiliation, hard chauvinism ]

[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. After their wedding night, which went completely differently than he imagined, Aemond tries to return to his daily routine. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. Lots of hate sex, violence and chauvinism. ]

Part 1 − Object of Desire Part 3 − Object of Delight Epilogue

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Their wedding night was so different from what he had imagined that he was at once horrified, ashamed and intrigued by the person who had been living in the chamber next to his for several days. She wasn't seeking his company or attention, appearing only at suppers spent together with his family.

He knew he could have summoned her to his chamber at any time, and it would have been her duty to come and give him what he wanted, but every time he meant to do so he changed his mind and resigned, frustrated, staring into the light of the fire burning in the fireplace, sitting in front of it on his ornate wooden chair, thinking about that evening.

After what had happened between them it seemed to him that they had both suddenly come down to earth, not knowing what to make of how aggressive and full of rage the rapprochement had been.

He let her go and watched her, breathing unevenly, tying back his breeches, as she immediately covered her buttocks back up with her nightgown − he could see that her whole body was shaking, her lips trembling, her eyes big, her cheeks puffy from the tears that ran down her face.

She calmed down a little after his words and reassurances, but she was still terrified.

She asked him in a breaking, weak, quiet voice if she could now return to her chamber, and although he had originally had no intention of letting her lay in his bed, he felt disappointment at the thought that she had not begged him to let her stay.

Not wanting to show weakness or allow her to think that her presence was something he craved, he allowed her to do so with a nod, and she left without a word, neither bowing to him nor wishing him a good night, quietly opening and closing the door of his chamber behind her.

The next day, during the duel with Criston Cole, he could not concentrate − whenever he caught sight of a shade of blue out of the corner of his eye he involuntarily looked in that direction, thinking it was her in her gown that he remembered so fondly, his heart pounding hard with shame.

He pressed his lips together, turning his head away, snorting, playing with the hilt of his sword in his hand with apparent impatience, seeing some other woman − Cole watched him vigilantly, but not dared to ask either about her or his impressions of her.

Her presence was a taboo for him.

That same day, he walked and spent long hours in the great royal library, despite the fact that he usually instructed his servants to bring thick, old volumes filled with the history of his family and all Essos to his chamber. He hoped to meet her there, to confront her again, this time clearly showing her where she belonged.

To his disappointment, he did not see her until the evening − her blue gown immediately catched his attention, sewn from a soft, lovely fabric it fell heavily over her pleasant, girlish curves, accentuating her figure.

He swallowed hard as he looked at her face and noticed a large red bruise under her eye, which must have been the result of the moment he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head on the table.

She was discussing something in a whisper with Helaena, his sister bent over her with concern, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture they had all inherited from their mother.

They fell silent when they noticed him − her violet eyes looked up at him, sad, resigned and tired. He thought, feeling a burning embarrassment in his chest, that explaining to her who had the final word on what their marriage would look like was no longer necessary.

Sitting down at the table next to her he knew what awaited him − when his mother walked into the chamber and saw his wife she froze, the smile gone from her face.

She looked at him with pain, with disappointment he could not bear and he closed his eyes, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to sink to the ground.

"Dear sister-in-law, has my brother given you another gift besides, we all pray, his future heir in your womb?" Aegon asked with a sneer. He clenched his teeth, sucking in a deep breath, looking at his brother with grim fury, to which he only smirked, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch, amused.

He felt his wife shift beside him − his heart began to beat faster in panic at the thought that she was about to say something to humiliate him, to mock him in front of his entire family to take revenge on him.

"I slipped in the bath, my King." She replied simply, without emotion, regret or anger. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, surprised at the ease with which she lied despite it being obvious that everyone around her had guessed what had really happened.

His brother raised an eyebrow clearly impressed, cocking his head, leaning back in his chair with a loud creak of wood.

"You slipped." He repeated softly and she replied nothing, looking at him calmly.

She and Aegon exchanged glances for a moment − it seemed to him that she feared neither him nor his position.

"I hope no more such unpleasant…accident happens to you, my Lady. Such a pretty face." He hummed, reaching for his cup, but she merely blinked, no grimace passing across her face, as if his words did not bother her at all.

He himself didn't know what he thought of all this, so he decided to go back to his daily routine, pretending that she simply wasn't there, convincing himself that it would be better that way.

He didn't need her, he didn't want her, and her silence and distance were doing him a favour.

He watched her sometimes from afar, seeing her pleasant silhouette glide between the columns as he trained in the courtyard, always headed for the garden, the tree he had read about before she came to King's Landing, and at which he understood the Northerners prayed.

He did not think of it at first, but then he began to notice the gazes of the men and guards fixed on her as she passed them, their smiles, their dreamy gaze as if they were imagining what they would do with her body, the body of his wife, his right and his duty.

It planted a seed of doubt in him − he wondered if perhaps she was meeting her lover there, if he was a source of ridicule in the keep because the servants already knew that she had not been faithful to him, that she had betrayed her crippled husband.

This thought made him furious, but having no proof for his supposition he decided one day to change his plan for the afternoon and watch her through the window − as soon as he caught sight of her figure passing through the cloisters he left his chamber, moving unhurriedly after her.

As he walked between the tall shrubbery, hearing the grass rustling and the birds singing, he tried to focus on other sounds, expecting quiet moans and panting to reach his ears, but heard only his own footsteps traversing the path strewn with small rocks rattling under his feet.

He stopped as he stepped into a small clearing − a large, white weirwood with a disturbing, wrinkled, red face on its trunk looked at him ominously, his wife lying on her back on the grass beneath it, her eyes closed, her dark, loose hair surrounding her head, her hands laid on her stomach.

He stood motionless, wondering if she was waiting for someone, however, she did not open her eyes or look around.

He thought with surprise that she was asleep.

He swallowed loudly, for some reason feeling desire at the sight of her lying silhouette, the fact that someone could see and hear them, that she was his wife, and he could take her here and anywhere else he wished.

He felt how his cock swell in his breeches, his lips tightening into a thin line as the heat spilled in his lower abdomen.

She shuddered and opened her eyes when she heard him move towards her − she lifted herself up on her arm, her lips parted in disbelief, however for some reason she did not rise or try to escape.

He stood, towering over her, feeling his superiority and dominance over her in this position and this situation, his fingers slid down to his breeches, untying them in a calm, nimble manner.

"Come here, wife. I promised you something, didn't I?" He asked, feeling his heart pounding like mad, releasing his aching erection, its pink tip glistening from his precum.

It seemed to him that she was shocked by his insolence, by the fact that he wanted to profane her sacred place, after a moment, however, the expression on her face changed. He parted his lips noticing how she rose slowly, kneeling before him as if to pray, with a light flick of her hand sliding the material of his breeches lower, looking him straight in the eyes.

No fear, no terror, no regret.

He sighed and immediately grabbed her by the hair, wanting to be in control of what was happening when her hand grasped his throbbing, hard cock in her soft palm, squeezing it at the base. He drew in a loud breath as her lips brushed its tip without any hesitation, her pink, shiny tongue licking it encouragingly. He tilted his head back, delighted.

"− fuck − keep going −" He commanded, impatiently pressing her closer to his lower abdomen, watching her with excitement and curiosity, his manhood quivering with desire in her hand, her fingers giving it a calm, assured strokes. He groaned involuntarily when he saw how she slowly slid the fat head of his cock between her lips, the tip of her tongue teasing him lazily.

She sighed as the thrust of his hips slid it deeper into her mouth − he heard her almost choke when it hit the back of her throat, her palate wonderfully wet and warm, her lips clamped down on it, in some natural, subconscious reflex beginning to suck it.

"− that's it − there you go −" He gasped with awe at the perverted sight before him, his fingers entwined in her smooth, soft hair, clenching down on it, controlling himself, however, so as not to cause her too much pain, forcing her head not to escape when his hips with sure deep pushes invaded her throat.

"− did you often satisfy your late husband like this? − it's clear this isn't your first time − little slut −" He exhaled, groaning lowly listening to the loud clicks of her saliva each time his aching cock disappeared again and again deep into her mouth, her hand tightening on it more firmly, making him accelerate his pace.

"− stop − that's enough −" He muttered, having no intention of wasting his seed, wanting to finish inside her, trying to push her away, but he felt her tongue trailing down his length, her free hand clamped down on his buttock, not allowing him to escape − he had to lean against the tree trunk, his other hand holding her hair as his cock thrust into her greedily.

"− f-fuck, fuck, fuckkk −" He hissed out in rage combined with delight and groaned loudly in relief as he felt his semen spill over her palate. He looked down at her, her eyes closed, all around them only the rustle of the leaves, his shaky, loud breaths and the sound of her swallowing, so lewd it sent shivers down his spine.

Slowly she slid it out of her mouth, his cock all slick and glistening from her wetness − her soft, pink tongue licked it for a while longer, teasing and sucking lightly on its tip from which the remnants of his seed still flowed. He stroked her smooth hair, feeling his body still shudder with shivers of pleasure after such intense fulfilment.

"− you look perfect like this −" He gasped softly, his thumb running over her cheek, noticing with some kind of relief that there was hardly a trace left of the bruise from a few days ago.

"− you will spend this night in my chamber − you should try how it tastes sticky with your moisture − don't touch yourself −"

That evening he waited impatiently for her, strangely excited and anxious, pacing around his chamber, absorbed in his thoughts.

He feared that she would humiliate him, show him, by not coming to his summons, that she despised and disrespected him, and then force him to use violence against her again.

He did not want any more accusing glances from his mother directed towards him at the table.

He shuddered as the door to his chamber opened suddenly − he turned over his shoulder and swallowed hard, noticing her figure covered only by her night gown and the cashmere blue shawl thrown over her shoulders − her long dark hair were loose, the look of her violet eyes calm and full of some kind of curiosity.

"− have you touched yourself? −" He asked coolly as the door closed behind her with a loud clatter of wood, turning towards her, walking in her direction with his hands folded behind his back.

"− no −" She replied softly, without any pleasantries or further elaboration, looking straight into his face without a sign of fear or uncertainty.

He intended to regain control of the situation she had taken from him when she decided when he would come and how, all by herself.

Stupid cunt.

"− undress and lie on your stomach −" He commanded in a dispassionate, cool, deep tone, from which her gaze darkened a little, as if clouded, her plump lips parted slightly but no sound came out of them.

She walked past him without a word, heading barefoot towards his bed and climbed onto it, her back turned to him as she sat on his bedding, letting him watch as her fingers slid the fabric of the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall down, revealing her naked, smooth body.

His hands began to undo the clasps of his tunic as she lay on her stomach following his command, her face turned the other way so that he could not see her gaze − the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace all around them, and besides, a complete silence filled with a heavy, stifling tension, a threat of what was about to happen between them.

He felt what he saw in his cock, his manhood expressing painful impatience, throbbing in his breeches at the thought that he intended to come deep inside her that night more than once.

"− did you love that fool? −" He asked indifferently in a voice slightly hoarse with arousal, licking his lips with his tongue in satisfaction to see that her whole body tensed, her fingers clenched on the pillow lying under her head, her back rising in a shuddering breath.

She was silent for a long moment, as if his question had startled her − he watched her vigilantly, pulling his boots off his feet, staying only in his undershirt and breeches as she lay exposed, bare, vulnerable, condemned to him and him alone.

No matter what her answer would be.

She shuddered, as if snapped out of her reverie, as he sat up behind her, his large hand running over and stroking her full, soft buttocks.

"− speak −" He hissed, his hand slapping her bare skin so sharply and quickly that she bounced and squealed. He gave a reassuring stroke to the spot, red and throbbing in the indistinct shape of his hand − involuntarily his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he noticed the moisture glistening between her thighs, her folds pink, throbbing and swollen.

She liked this kind of games, he knew that.

"− I was the furnishings of his household − I loved him as much as his chair, his bed or his table could −" She muttered, and he looked at her, surprised, not knowing himself what he thought of her words. He stared at her face, her gaze fixed on his window, her lower lip trembling as if she was trying not to cry.

He hummed, intrigued, moving forward, placing his hands on either side of her head, his long hair tickling the bare skin of her back and shoulders, making her gasp loudly, her body quivering all over in anticipation and uncertainty, fear and curiosity at what he was about to do.

"− I am, I believe, in his debt − he taught my wife how to suck cock so well −" He whispered quietly with a hint of dark mockery and threat, her lips parted wide in a quiet moan as he slid one of his hands under her stomach, parting her legs with his knee, forcing her to spread them in front of him, his mouth ran over her neck as his fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood.

"− but did he fuck you good? − hm? − did he know your weaknesses? − your most sensitive points? −" He murmured, her whole body breathless, her buttocks bucking up towards him and rubbing against his hard cock, moving to the rhythm of his fingers as their tips dug into her tender skin, trailing around her bud, teasing her once in a while, his hand all sticky with her juices.

"− fucking answer me − he fucked you with his fingers 'till you mewled his name? − 'till you begged for his seed? −" He growled, crushing her with the weight of his body, his other hand clamping down on her neck, careful not to overdo it though − she whimpered loudly, writhing beneath him as he quickened his pace, running his fingers over her puffy slit again and again, leaking from her fluids, his fingers invading her fleshy folds with a loud, lewd click, his aching manhood hitting her buttocks.

"− yes − he's gained experience with whores and servants before, just like you −" She hissed out, her breath caught in her throat as his fingers tightened harder around her neck, his two fingers forced their way inside her, stretching her tight, hot, wet walls with sure, deep pushes to which her hips responded greedily with rocking, meeting him halfway.

"− shameless whore − maybe I should care less about your pleasure, hm? − fuck you so that you cry out in pain −" He threatened, and she laughed, struggling to catch air, her lips parted wide, her eyelids clenched.

"− objects do not know fulfilment or disappointment − love or hate − do what you want with me −" She breathed out, her eyes opened, releasing a wave of tears that ran down her cheeks, seeing this he slid his fingers out from inside her and let go of her neck, quickly untying his breeches, for some reason furious at her words, his nostrils twitched dangerously in accelerated breath.

His thumbs spread her folds wide to the sides, allowing the fat head of his cock to force its way inside her with her loud moan of surprise, his one, brutal push was enough for him to thrust deep into her with a sigh of pleasure and satisfaction.

"− listen − that sounds like disappointment to you? − like hatred? −" He sneered, panting loudly, placing his hands on either side of her head again, his knees spreading her thighs wide so that he slid fully into her, bucking his hips, his thrusts violent, sure and deep, each time his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture.

"− fuckin' leaking − all thirsty for my cock −" He gasped, feeling her muscles squeeze him tightly in pleasure, his face sinking into her soft, fragrant hair, his hands in some subconscious, natural reflex found her breasts, caressing and kneading them between his fingers, teasing her nipples with his thumbs.

"− ah −" She cried out innocently, girlishly − he stifled a low groan hearing that sound, accelerating his pace, opening her slick cunt wide on his cock again and again with brutal, quick thrusts, his mouth sliding down to her neck, clamping down on her skin, sucking her so painfully hard that she hissed, grabbing him helplessly by the hair.

"− I promise you that when I'm done with you, you won't be able to sit up tomorrow − your stomach and womb full of my seed −" He growled out into her ear, his breath caught in his throat as her hands found his, clenching on his fingers, entwining them together, her hips responding to his thrusts so eagerly that he struggled to restrain himself from coming just yet.

"− don't stop − fill me, please, please, please −" She mewled so loudly and sweetly that he lost control completely; he could feel the sweat trickling down his back from the exertion, one of his hands slid down her stomach, giving her pearl a few encouraging strokes from which her whole body quivered.

"− good girl − say my name −" He muttered with his face pressed against her soft hair, no longer controlling his movements, his hips slamming into her involuntarily, aggressively and quickly, no longer sliding out of her, chasing his own fulfilment, her walls clenched against him greedily, sucking him inside, wet and hot.

"− Aemond, fuck me, fuck me, f-fuck −" She whimpered and that was the end of it, from her lips came sounds of pleasure and relief he had never heard before, sweet, girlish, innocent, vulnerable, he felt her moisture trickle down her thighs, soaking him all over, her core throbbing hard in fulfillment, giving him wonderfull squeeze.

He gasped loudly, letting go at last, coming so hard inside her that it went dark before his eyes, his fingers tightened on her body to make sure she wouldn't escape him, their bodies writhing in convulsions, overwhelmed by how intense the fulfilment was, slapping against each other.

"− oh gods −" He mumbled, stroking her smooth shoulders, breasts, hips, thighs with his large, rough hands − he felt as if the scent of her body, her hair and her moisture had completely overwhelmed him, filling his lungs and his head. He closed his eyes, panting loudly with her, only realising after a moment that the fingers of one of her hands were still entwined with his.

They lay like that for a moment, trying to calm themselves, his lips finding her cheek, neck and shoulder, placing hot, lazy, wet kisses on them. He heard her sigh softly, her words like honey to his ears.

"− I want to taste you now −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddessing @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[tsukumomei]

AFTER ASHES | Itoshi Sae

Alice in Borderland AU | PART 1

Tags; •fem + afab!reader, •close proximity (friends to lovers-ish) •nsfw •softcore •sae doesn't know how to communicate •rare sweet sae at the end Summary: when you suddenly find yourself in a deserted Tokyo, where participating in deadly games is the only way to survive, your mind is consumed by one goal: to escape and return to the comforts of the real world. Survival demands wit, courage, and the willingness to face unimaginable challenges. Yet, amidst the chaos and despair, something unexpected happens. You meet Sae. What starts as a reluctant alliance blossoms into something deeper. CW: •wc; 17k •MDNI •aged-up •violence •gore •murder •death games •psychological distress •depictions of survival scenarios •betrayal and manipulation •themes of isolation and despair •graphic injuries •explicit sexual content •coercion and power dynamics PART 2

You were being chased. 

The frantic pounding of footsteps behind you left no doubt, they weren’t even trying to hide their presence. Judging by the heavy thuds, four, maybe five people were tailing you through this decaying amusement park. 

Each breath burned your lungs, the metallic taste of adrenaline bitter on your tongue. The broken key to your escape dug into your palm as you clutched it tightly, cursing your bad luck. Why did it have to be you holding this thing? Why not Chigiri? He could’ve easily outrun them; this was his element, not yours.

The pressure of the past few days crashed into you as you stumbled over cracked asphalt, the haunted screams of distant animatronics mingling with the mayhem in your mind. 

How did it come to this? 72 hours ago, you were still walking the familiar, lively streets of Shibuya, laughing with your best friend Kaede like everything in the world was perfectly normal.

“Come on!” Kaede had teased the previous day, her eyes alight with excitement as she tugged at your arm, weaving through the crowds, her beautiful blonde hair catching the breeze like a golden veil. “We’re going to miss the movie if you keep walking this slow!”

If only. If only that best-friend date hadn’t been interrupted by that blinding flash at the crosswalk. If only the world hadn’t tilted sideways in that unexplainable moment.

Now, here you were; desperate, breathless, and running for your life. Nothing had been normal since that day.

You thought back to the moment you regained consciousness, laid flat on a nearby bench. Shibuya, once alive with its bright lights and crowded streets, had turned into an eerie ghost town. No cars. No chatter. Not even a stray breeze to rustle the leaves.

“Kaede?” you had called, your voice trembling as you blinked into the unsettling void.

“I’m here,” Kaede had replied, her fingers gripping your arm like a lifeline. Gone was her usual confidence, her eyes darting around the empty city like a cornered animal.

You clung to her then, just as you do to her memory now, forcing your legs to keep moving. Kaede, with her bright spirit, was your anchor in a world turned on its head. Two halves of a whole. You’d survived the initial shock together. You’d survived the first game together. You’d survive this, too.

Wouldn’t you?

The snapping of twigs behind you killed your thoughts and solidified that this is reality. You tightened your grip on the jagged piece of the key. It felt like a joke. So small and incomplete, yet capable of deciding your fate. If you wanted to live, you needed the rest of it.

Just as your legs threatened to give out, a familiar flash of red streaked toward you.

“Y/N!” Chigiri’s voice cut through the chaos, his figure appearing out of the shadows. He skidded to a stop beside you, holding out two more fragments of the key. “I’ve got them. Kaede’s right behind me.”

Before you could respond, Kaede stumbled into view, breathless but determined. She waved the final piece triumphantly. “We’re not dying here, not today!”

Relief washed over you like a wave, but there was no time to celebrate. The pursuers were still on your heels, their shouts growing louder.

“This way!” Chigiri called, taking the lead as Kaede grabbed your hand. The three of you sprinted through the winding paths of the amusement park, dodging rusted rides and shattered glass.

When you finally reached the exit, Bachira was already there, as usual, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You guys sure took your time!” he called out, eyes scanning the horizon. “Hurry, they’re right behind you!” To think he still had the urge to joke around is absurd.

You quickly fumbled with the key pieces, hands shaking as you fit them together. It clicked into place just as the first pursuer burst into view.

“Go, go, go!” Bachira urged, holding the gate open as Chigiri pushed you and Kaede through.

The heavy metal gate clanged shut behind you. On the other side, the shouts of your pursuers were abruptly silenced, replaced by the mechanical voice declaring “Game over” and the sickening, wet sound of blood splattering against the wall. 

For a moment, no one moved, the reality settling like a suffocating weight—to live is to take away someone else’s life.

The four of you crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. Your chest heaved, your body coated in dirt and sweat. The metallic tang of fear lingered in the air as you exchanged fleeting glances, each face pale and hollow. But you were alive, though barely.

For a moment, no one spoke, the weight of your escape settling over you. Then Kaede broke the silence with a shaky laugh, attempting to mask her conflicted feelings. “That was way too close.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, clutching the now-complete key. It was over. 

Bachira flopped onto his back with a grin that could only belong to someone completely unbothered by narrowly escaping death. “Man, that was fun! Let’s do it again sometime!”

“Fun?” Kaede shot him an incredulous glare, her voice still breathless. “We almost died back there!”

Before Bachira could retort, your phones vibrated simultaneously, a sharp buzz breaking through the tense atmosphere.

With trembling hands, you reached into your pocket, pulling out the device. The screen flickered to life, casting an eerie glow in the dim surroundings. On it was a single message, stark and bold:

GAME CLEAR7 of Clubs Complete

The realization hit you hard. You’d done it. Somehow, against all odds, you’d survived.

You nodded. “We wouldn’t have made it without each other.”

“Especially me,” Bachira chimed in, holding up his phone with a triumphant grin. “I totally nailed that waiting-by-the-exit thing.”

Kaede groaned, shaking her head. “Don’t push your luck, Bachira.”

Despite the tension, you couldn’t help but let out a small, weary laugh. For a brief moment, the brutality of this world seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile sense of victory.

But as you looked back at the eerie silhouette of the amusement park, the gruesome reality of your situation settled in once more. This wasn’t over. The games would keep coming, each more brutal than the last.

“Let’s get back,” Chigiri finally said, rising to his feet and offering you a hand. His grip was steady, and it gave you reassurance. “We need to get this to Isagi.”

He held up the 7 of Clubs card, its edges catching the faint glow of the moonlight.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

You first met Isagi Yoichi’s team when you stumbled out of your first game with Kaede, a horrid game that left only the two of you as survivors.

Isagi was the one who approached you first. His calm demeanor gave him an air of leadership. “You made it through your first game. A heart one at that, impressive,” he said, offering a hand.

Kaede, though reluctant, shook it firmly. “We didn’t have much of a choice.”

Bachira, back then, was perched on the edge of a badly beat up, ripped couch, grinning widely. “I like them already. They’ve got guts.”

“Guts won’t keep you alive here,” Barou said flatly from the chair he was sitting at, his piercing red orbs assessing you and Kaede. His kingly demeanor added an edge to the room, making you instinctively cautious of him.

As you and Kaede settled into the group, you quickly found your rhythm. You worked well as a team. Your background as a high diver gave you focus and stamina, while Kaede’s part-time experience as a stuntwoman gave her an edge in high-pressure situations. The others didn’t make a big deal out of it, but it was clear that your skills were definitely a significant advantage when it comes to survival.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

Back at your safe house, you sit with Kaede, reflecting on how drastically your lives have changed. You both knew you might have gone insane if you hadn’t found another person that day. Luck had led you to be saved by a group. Still, you’re acutely aware that this community is anything but permanent. Danger always lingers, yet the relief it offers is undeniable.

Then, without warning, a deafening explosion shakes the building. The walls rumble violently, plaster rains down in chunks, and smoke billows from cracks in the structure.

“Move!” Isagi shouts, his voice cutting through the confusion.

You barely manage to grab Kaede’s arm as the two of you bolt for the nearest exit. 

Around you, the others scramble, coughing through the thick smoke and dodging falling debris. You and Kaede are among the first to break through to the outside, gasping for air in the cold night. Behind you, the safehouse collapses further, its frame buckling under another fiery explosion.

Shidou stumbles out, his eyes darting like an animal’s. “Well, that’s one way to clear out!”

“Where do we go?” Kaede demands, tugging you closer to her as the group gathers on the street.

“Anywhere but here!” Chigiri retorts, his reddish-pink hair catching the firelight as he scans the dark streets.

Before anyone can decide, the low growl of an engine tears through the air. A massive Jeep Gladiator skids to a halt in front of you, its steel frame glinting in the orange glow of the flames. 

Its appearance makes it look as though it could withstand just about anything. A fortress on wheels.

The passenger-side window rolls down, revealing a man with sharp, mismatched eyes that glimmer even in the dim light. One eye is a distinct, almost hypnotic green, while the other is a deep, ocean blue. The contrast between them is unnerving, but there’s something about the way his gaze sweeps over the group that speaks of experience. His face is partially obscured by shadow, but his voice is steady and commanding.

“Get in.”

You and the others freeze, the tension thick as everyone exchanges wary glances. The man’s tone leaves little room for argument, but suspicion hangs in the air.

“Who the hell are you?” Reo snaps, stepping forward but keeping his distance.

“Does it matter?” the man retorts, his mismatched eyes narrowing. “Unless you’d rather stick around and wait for whoever bombed your hideout to come back.”

Bachira, standing slightly apart from the rest, tilts his head, his grin faint but noticeable. “I dunno about you guys, but this feels less explode-y than staying here.”

“Right?” Shidou adds, his wild demeanor returning as he strides toward the Jeep. “I love explosions but I’m not about to die all pretty like this.” Without waiting for anyone’s approval, he climbs in the back of the truck.

“Shidou!” Kaede snaps, her vexation boiling over.

“What?” he says with a shrug. “They’ve got wheels, and I don’t wanna walk.”

Bachira follows him without hesitation, jumping into the back of the truck as well. “Guess I’m going too. This thing kinda looks fun.”

You glance at Kaede, who glares at the vehicle as though willing it to disappear. “Kaede…” you murmur, gripping her arm. “We don’t have a choice.”

Yukimiya adjusts his glasses, his usual composure faltering just slightly. “They’re right. Out here, we’re vulnerable.”

Chigiri faces Kaede and nods reluctantly. “I can’t outrun another explosion. I’m in.”

Kaede curses under her breath, dragging you along as she heads for the Jeep. “If this is a trap, I’m throwing you out first,” she mutters.

The man with mismatched eyes watches silently as one by one, you all pile into the Jeep. You end up wedged between Kaede and Chigiri, the interior cramped but enough to offer a strange sense of protection.

As soon as Kaede slams the door shut, the driver with salmon locks floors the accelerator, and the vehicle lurches forward, speeding away. Inside, the air is thick with tension. 

The man in the passenger seat finally speaks, his voice steady. “Whoever targeted you knows what they’re doing. If you want to stay alive, stick with us.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Reo mutters, his tone sharp. “Why should we trust you?”

The man glances back, “You don’t have to trust me. But I’ll remind you..” his mismatched eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Trust isn’t what keeps people alive here. It’s survival instinct that does.”

His words hang in the air as the truck roars down the deserted streets, leaving the destruction behind. You grip the edge of your seat, your heart pounding as you stare out the window, wondering if you’ve just escaped one danger only to run headfirst into another.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

It turns out they were taking you to another safe house. What was once a luxurious resort in the real world. Known as The Beach. The pristine pools glimmer and the sleek modern design of the resort still carries an air of opulence. People mill about in swimsuits and casual clothing, but the carefree appearance felt like a facade. 

The atmosphere is heavy with tension, the invisible threads of hidden agendas simmer beneath the surface, you had just gotten there, but that much is obvious.

Your getaway driver from earlier, who introduces himself as Sendou, walks alongside you and Kaede, guiding you toward the heart of the Beach. It’s unbelievable how he’s unable to hide the fact that he has a thing for Kaede.

He’s grinning, his easy going demeanor the exact opposite of the nerves shivering in your chest and sweaty hands. “Welcome to the Beach,” he says, gesturing to the bustling crowd. “It’s not much, but it’s home, at least for me.”

At the center of it all stands Ego Jinpachi, the enigmatic leader of the Beach. Dressed in a crisp white shirt and sunglasses, he exudes control and intellect. His assertive tone cuts through the murmurs as he addresses the crowd from a raised platform.

“I created the Beach to bring order to the chaos of the Borderland,” Ego declares, his voice rising with conviction. “Here, we don’t rely on blind luck or brute force. We rely on strategy, intelligence, and teamwork. But none of that matters if you don’t recognize your own worth. You must believe in your ability to rise above the games. Because if you don’t, you’re already dead.”

If you’re being completely honest, you have no idea what this man is going on about—Ego this, Ego that. Sure, you get that he’s trying to give a pep talk to lift the spirits of a crowd that’s clearly beaten down, but wow, he does get carried away.

Beside him, Anri Teieri speaks next, her calm tone providing balance to Ego’s uncompromising tone. “The Beach’s structure is designed to give everyone a chance to survive,” she explains. “But cooperation and loyalty are non-negotiable.”

She pauses, letting the weight of her words settle before continuing. “There’s one more rule,” she says, her voice steady but firm. “All participants must adhere to the dress code. That means beach attire—swimsuits, casual clothing, leaves little to the imagination.”

The murmurs in the crowd grow louder, confusion and unease rippling through the participants. Anri doesn’t flinch, her gaze unwavering, determined. “The reason is simple,” she explains. “It ensures transparency and trust. No one can hide guns, knives, or any other weapons in beach clothes. This rule is about survival. The fewer opportunities for treachery, the safer we all are.”

Sendou gestures toward the raised platform where the Beach’s most prominent figures stand. “Let me give you a quick rundown,” he says, leaning in. “These are the big shots, the ones who keep this place running. Knowing who’s who can mean the difference between survival and, well, death.”

He nods toward the man who saved you all earlier, the one with the mismatched eyes. He was leaning casually against the railing. “That’s Oliver Aiku. Looks chill, doesn’t he? Don’t let it fool you, he’s got a brain that works faster than most, and he’s the guy you want on your side in a tight spot. If you’re lucky, he might even flash you that charming grin of his.” Kaede isn’t impressed.

Next, Sendou gestures toward the man with bleach-blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, and a self-assured smirk. “That one? That’s Michael Kaiser. The ‘I’m better than you’ aura? Yeah, that’s not just for show. He’s got a sharp tongue to match his sharp mind, and he doesn’t care who knows it. You’ll know you’ve done something right if he even acknowledges you exist.”

Sendou’s hand shifts to the figure standing close to Kaiser. “And that’s Alexis Ness, the guy with purple hair and a quiet vibe. Don’t underestimate him, he’s really loyal to everything that Kaiser does. When you deal with Kaiser, you’re dealing with Ness too.”

He then points to a man with tan skin and a buzz cut. “That’s Julian Loki, the ‘God Sprinter.’ When it comes to spade games, he’s the best there is. Fast on his feet and  always one step ahead.”

Finally, his gaze lands on a towering figure with distinctive gold teeth (actual gold), exuding a laid-back demeanor. “And that’s Don Lorenzo. Big, quiet, and scary as hell when he wants to be. He’s the enforcer here, the guy who makes sure no one steps out of line. If you’re smart, you won’t give him a reason to look your way.”

Sendou pauses, his grin faltering slightly as his tone grows colder. “And then, there’s him.” He gestures to a figure seated at the edge of the group, his posture relaxed, but his presence commanding. His reddish-brown hair catches the light, his sharp gaze fixed like he owns the place.

“See that guy with the thick under lashes? Sae Itoshi. Quiet, deadly smart, and not someone you want to mess with. His eyes? They’re already sizing you up, figuring out what you’re worth before you even open your mouth.”

Sendou’s expression darkens, a trace of bitterness slipping through. “Sae doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s the type who’d throw you to the wolves if it benefitted him. Arrogant prick thinks he’s better than the rest of us, and honestly? He probably is, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.” 

He shakes his head, as if trying to shrug off his own words. “Trust me, if you can avoid dealing with him, do it. Life’s easier that way.”

Sendou steps back, folding his arms as he surveys the group. “That’s the crew keeping the Beach alive. Stick to the rules, show your worth, and you might just make it out of this place in one piece. But cross any of them?” He whistles low, shaking his head. “Well, you won’t be around long enough to regret it.”

You take a mental note on each executive, their demeanor, and the subtle dynamics among them. However, as Ego’s commanding voice thundered across the gathering, your focus began to waver. Not out of disinterest, but because your gaze had been drawn to someone among the Beach’s elite.

Seated near the edge of the platform, he was striking, like his face had been carved with meticulous precision. Itoshi Sae had an air of unshakable confidence. 

Despite the chaos of the Beach, he remained unbothered, like none of it mattered enough to warrant his full attention.

His mere presence seemed to create a gravitational pull of a sort, and before you realized it, you were caught staring. How does someone carry themselves like that? you thought, barely processing Kaede nudging you to pay attention to Ego’s speech. Sae’s gaze flicked across the crowd like a predator surveying prey, but there was no malice in his eyes. Just cold detachment.

You knew better than to let anyone at the Beach intimidate you, but he wasn’t intimidating. No, he was something else; aloof, perhaps? The kind of person who made you want to know more, even if you sensed that getting too close might burn you.

“Y/N.”

Kaede’s sharp whisper pulled you out of your thoughts. You blinked and realized Ego was looking directly at you now, waiting for an answer to a question you hadn’t even listened to. Heat rushed to your face as you forced your attention back to the leader’s speech, inwardly cursing yourself for getting so distracted.

Still, as Kaede elbowed you again, mouthing, focus, you couldn’t help but let your gaze flicker towards the redhead one more time. He was watching Ego now, his expression unchanged, and utterly captivating.

As the crowd disperses, Ego’s sharp eyes land on you and Kaede. He gestures for the two of you to approach, and now you wonder where the boys had gone? Heart pounding, you step forward, Kaede close beside you.

“New arrivals,” Ego says, his tone neutral but probing. “What do you bring to the Beach?”

Kaede speaks first, steady despite the weight of his attention. “We’ve survived five games so far. We’re quick thinkers and adaptable.” A very basic textbook answer, but you figured it was better than just keeping your mouth shut.

Ego’s lips curl into a faint smirk. “Adaptability is a good start,” he says. “But remember, knowing your worth isn’t just about survival. It’s about domination. If you don’t seize control of your narrative, someone else will.”

You exchange a glance with Kaede, both of you silently resolving to prove your place here. As the Beach’s dynamics unfold, one thing is for sure; Ego’s philosophy of self-worth and survival will test every fiber of your being.

The blonde man, who you understood to be Kaiser, strides forward before anyone can speak, his icy blue eyes locking onto you with an intensity that sends a jolt through your chest. His lips curled into a playful grin but all you could notice was the distinct blue rose tattoo that adorned his neck.

“Well, well,” he drawls, his voice smooth and teasing. “I didn’t expect the Beach to get so much brighter today. Tell me, are you here to play the games, or just to distract the rest of us?”

Kaede stiffens beside you, protective instincts flaring, but you keep your composure. “I’m here to survive, just like everyone else,” you reply firmly, refusing to let him get under your skin.

Kaiser chuckles, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I like that fire! Don’t lose it, it’s rare around here.” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “But if you ever need an ally, I can make things… interesting for you.”

Ness sighs softly, his gaze sharp as it flickers between you and Kaiser. “Kaiser,” he murmurs, his tone holding a note of warning.

Kaiser smirks but steps back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. “Think about it,” he says before turning away.

Kaede leans in, whispering sharply, “What was that about?”

“I have no idea,” you mutter, catching a glimpse of the executive with reddish hair making his exit.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The nearby river feels like an entirely different world, away from the city chaos. The stars sparkle brightly in the cloudless sky, untouched by the glare of city lights. 

You stand at the edge, mindlessly skipping stones, each bounce rippling across the water's surface.

Despite the hope that the presence of companions can provide, moments like these remind you of the need for solitude. 

In the real world, this place would be off-limits—a restricted area—but that never stopped you from sneaking in at night. Here, the only sounds were the soft splashes of stones meeting shallow water, a perfect place to clear your thoughts.

You were distraught. Grief clings to you like a second skin. The pain of witnessing death after death, the desperation etched on the faces of those who gave up, and the stifling feeling of uncertainty. You were a nurse just fresh out of university, with dreams and plans that now felt like whispers from some past life. This was your life now.

The questions flood your mind, relentless and unanswered. Where are you? Did some God pluck "chosen" people and leave the rest behind? Had the rest of the world simply ceased to exist, or was this some distant, desolate future where humanity had burned itself out? Did you travel through time? There was no logical reasoning for any of this. All these theories haunted you until it was cut off by a voice you had never expected to hear so close to you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he called out to you, carrying a tinge of curiosity.

Startled, you turned to see Itoshi Sae himself standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets. 

His calm presence was almost jarring against the backdrop of your inner turmoil. After remembering Sendou’s description of this man, you opted to be casual, respectful but not too friendly. “Something like that,” you reply, turning back to throw the pebble in your hand. “It’s hard to relax in a place like this.”

Sae steps closer, his movements measured, until he’s standing beside you. His gaze follows yours, scanning the city lights that flicker like dying embers.

“You get used to it,” he says, his tone devoid of comfort but not entirely unkind.

There’s a sharpness to him, a precision that feels as if it could cut through the hardest of stones. But beneath that, you catch glimpses of something else, something you couldn’t quite explain. 

If you had just nodded at him, you knew there'd be a 99% chance he wouldn't ask a follow up question, but against your better judgement, you keep the conversation flowing. “Do you ever think about what’s next?” you ask softly, breaking the silence.

Sae doesn’t answer immediately. “No point in dwelling on it. What matters is surviving the next game.”

His pragmatism doesn’t surprise you, but it frustrates you nonetheless. “And after that? Do you even want to go back to the real world?”

This time, Sae turns his head to look at you. “Does it matter?” he counters. “The real world wasn’t much better than this one.”

You frown, his words striking a chord. “That’s not true for everyone. Some of us have people waiting for us out there. Lives we want to return to.”

Sae’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he looks away, his jaw tightening. “That’s a dangerous mindset to have here. Hope gets people killed.”

His words ignite a spark of defiance in you. “Hope is what’s keeping me alive.”

For the first time, Sae’s lips twitch, almost forming a smirk. It’s not mocking, though, if anything, it feels as if… he’s impressed.

“You’re stubborn,” he remarks, his tone neutral but carrying a trace of amusement.

“And you’re cynical,” you shoot back, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Word of advice, Miss?” Sae asks, his voice casual but laced with an unspoken question.

You pause for a moment, then give a slight nod, understanding the subtle request. “Oh, it’s Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

“Miss Y/n,” he repeats, testing the sound of your name, and there was no reason for it to sound that nice rolling off his lips.. "Don’t let your guard down," he says, his tone steady, “even out here” more of a warning than just a statement.

You meet his gaze, nodding in acknowledgment, but you don’t say anything. It’s enough that you understand. And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone on the riverside. The faint echo of his footsteps fades, but his words linger, intertwining with the stillness of the night.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The air felt heavy as you stepped out of your room. You had to wear a swimsuit as per the beach’s rules so now you were donning a dark blue two-piece. As a former high diving athlete, you were used to wearing little to no clothing but it still felt uncomfortable in a place that attempted to claim your life every time,  so you decided to drape yourself with a thin, white cover-up.

The lingering buzz of last night's encounter with Itoshi Sae stayed in your thoughts. Shaking the distraction from your mind, you focused on what lay ahead.

Ego’s summons had come at sunrise, summoning all of you to the main hall. He stood at the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, with Anri by his side. His voice rang out, sharp and calculated. “Today, we move forward with strategic assignments. Each of you will participate in a game tailored to your potential. Success strengthens the Beach, and failure...” 

He paused, his glasses catching the light ominously. “...is not an option.”

Kaede, standing beside you, shifted uneasily. “They’re really splitting us up,” she murmured under her breath.

You didn’t reply, your stomach twisting as Ego continued.

The room buzzed with soft murmurs as people digested the assignments. Some whispered reassurances to their teammates, and others exchanged uneasy glances.

Itoshi Sae, as usual, stood apart from the group, his detached expression giving him an almost otherworldly air. He gave the list a brief, disinterested glance before turning to leave, exuding an air of quiet authority that seemed to draw attention effortlessly.

Kaede leaned closer. “I’ve got Aiku, and you’ve got…” She trailed off, following your gaze to where Sae had been standing. “...That guy.”

You tore your eyes away from him, giving her a small shrug. “Yeah. Lucky me.”

Kaede tilted her head. “Just stay on your toes. He seems… intense. Hot, but intimidating.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, trying to muster confidence. “Just focus on your own game.”

She gave you a lopsided smile, though the concern in her eyes lingered. “Deal. But you owe me a debrief after.”

“And you?” you countered, the thought of her under Aiku’s command making you uneasy.

Kaede smirked, the shadow of her usual bravado returning. “Aiku’s charming, but I’ll be fine.”

As the crowd began to break apart, you both exchanged a quick nod, a silent promise to make it through the day.

You found Sae waiting near the lobby, his tall, lean frame leaning casually against a pillar. Dressed in a white, button down shirt, the sharp angles of his features were only emphasized by the dim light. His teal eyes locked onto you as you approached, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“You’re here,” he said simply, pushing off the pillar with a fluid motion. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

His tone was as detached as ever, but the way his gaze lingered on you betrayed a flicker of acknowledgment.

“Do you even know what we’re walking into?” you asked, trying to mask your nerves.

A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’ll either keep up or you won’t.”

Annoyance flickered within you, but you swallowed it down. “I’ll hold my own.”

He regarded you for a moment, his expression neutral. “We’ll see.”

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The meeting point for the game was deep in the woods, where a cliff loomed over a crystal-clear lake. The stillness of the forest made the setting almost serene, but the stark drop of the cliff and the ominous instructions on the digital board at its base shattered any illusions of peace.

Sae stood at the edge of the cliff, his features lit by the soft light filtering through the trees. His piercing gaze flicked from the board to the lake below, then back to the group. He hadn't spoken much since you arrived, but his quiet, commanding presence spoke volumes.

The other participants—Renji, Ayaka, Kaito, and Yumi—gathered near the base of the cliff, their faces a mix of unease and dread. Renji, tall and broad-shouldered, paced anxiously, while Ayaka clung to her jacket, her eyes nervously darting toward the drop. Kaito, who had seemed confident at first, now wore a deep frown, while Yumi, silent and trembling, struggled to mask her fear.

The holographic screen flickered and steadied, displaying the game rules:

5 of Diamonds: The Plunge

Setup: A button is located at the bottom of the lake, 20 meters deep. Pressing this button will deactivate the laser blocking access to the pathway on the shore, which must be solved to escape. A single participant must dive from the cliff into the lake and press the button.

Conditions: Only one participant can activate the underwater button. Time limit: 20 minutes. If the button is not pressed, or the number panel is not solved within the time limit, all participants will be eliminated.

The mechanical voice echoed through the clearing: “Select the participant to perform the dive.”

The tension in the air was palpable. Renji stepped back, shaking his head. "No way. That’s too much. I’m not risking my life like that."

Ayaka winced. "I can't swim well enough for this… I'd only slow everyone down."

Kaito crossed his arms, trying to mask his nervousness with bravado. "Look, I'm a decent swimmer, but that’s a long way down. If I panic, we’re done for."

You were genuinely appalled by this game; there was no reason for it to be classified as a diamond when it so clearly demanded physical dexterity—high diving, the skill you excelled in particularly. In this world, you’d learned to be cautious about revealing your strengths too soon, because your allies could easily become your enemy overnight—a lesson you learned the hard way when Kuon betrayed your former team.

The others looked desperate, their eyes darting around, but no one dared to step forward. The weight of their indecision pressed heavily on your chest, tightening the air around you. At the edge of the group, Sae stood still, watching, calculating. You could tell he’d already set a mental timer, ready to step in if no one volunteered.

But you weren’t naïve. This wasn’t just a test of courage; this was a test to all of you. This setup was all a part of Ego’s plan. This was your chance to prove your worth to the beach’s executive.

Before the silence could stretch any further, you stepped forward. "I’ll do it."

All eyes turned to you. Renji looked surprised, Kaito skeptical, Ayaka relieved, and Yumi scared.

Sae's gaze settled on you. "You?"

"I’m a high diver, I know the form." you said firmly, meeting his piercing eyes. "I can handle this."

Sae stood, scrutinizing you. "You understand the consequences if you fail?"

You nodded, your eyes unwavering. "I understand."

"Then don’t." His words were simple, yet carried the weight of command.

The words hit harder than expected, but you didn’t flinch. Taking a deep breath, you moved to the edge of the cliff. There was no need to strip down; the bikini you wore was already practical for the dive. The murmurs from the group faded into a dull hum, the pounding of your heart the only sound in your ears.

For a moment, you froze, staring down at the lake. The faint glimmer of the metallic button at the bottom felt like a distant star, unreachable. 

The stakes were impossibly higher than anything you’d ever faced before. Fear clawed at the edges of your resolve, but you clenched your fists, trying to force the doubt away. You can do this. You’ve trained for this. This is just like the nationals, only colder, higher, and with no room for error. You’ve got this.

The wind whipped around you, tugging at your clothes as if trying to pull you back, but you planted your feet firmly. The world around you seemed to shrink until there was only the abyss in front of you and the target at the bottom of the lake.

With a final, steadying breath, you silenced every doubt and counted to three. Then, without hesitation, you launched yourself forward, leaving the solid ground behind cutting through the air in a smooth arc. 

Plunging into the void below with precise, practiced grace, the splash barely audible over the sound of the group’s frantic breathing.

The lake was darker than it had seemed from above, the sunlight barely piercing the surface. You kicked downward, your lungs burning as you searched for the button. Finally, your hand brushed against the cold metal. You worked quickly, your fingers trembling as you pressed it.

From the cliff, the others rushed down the shore toward the number panel. Renji’s and Ayaka’s cheers barely registered as you swam toward the shore, your arms trembling with exhaustion.

Sae stood there, his sharp eyes watching as you pulled yourself out of the water. His expression was as composed as ever, but there was a faint glimmer of approval in his gaze.

Renji, Ayaka, Kaito, and Yumi gathered around you, their relief palpable. "You were incredible," Ayaka said, her voice shaking.

The tension from earlier had faded, replaced with a moment of shared relief, though the game was far from over.

The number panel needed a 6 digit number as the code, only flashing the following symbols as a clue: ◆-⏲-↕

Sae’s gaze flicked over the symbols. This was a level 5 diamond game, after all, and he knew the answer immediately. But before he could speak, Yumi suddenly slipped, losing her footing on the rocky shore. Her scream echoed in the air as she fell into the lake with a splash.

Without a second thought, you dove back into the water, quickly focused on reaching Yumi. The cold water was a shock again, but you pushed through it. Yumi was struggling beneath the surface, thrashing as she tried to stay afloat. You reached her, grabbing her tightly and pulling her toward the shore.

But as you made your way back, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your foot. You tried to shift, but the rocks beneath you were unstable, and your foot became wedged between two heavy stones. The pain was intense, and it felt like the world was closing in.

With every effort to free yourself, the water began to overwhelm you. You gasped for air, but your head felt heavy. Your body was giving out. The heaviness of the lake, the pressure in your chest, and the darkness creeping at the edges of your vision were too much.

Then, everything went black.

The group stood on the rocky shore, the tension thick as Yumi sputtered and coughed, water pouring from her lungs. She had barely been pulled from the lake, her body trembling from the cold and the near-drowning. Renji and Ayaka crouched beside her, trying to help her sit up, while Kaito paced nervously, his eyes darting toward the dark, rippling water.

"Are you okay?" Ayaka asked, her voice tinged with panic.

Yumi waved her off weakly, water streaming from her mouth as she struggled to catch her breath. "I..." she started, only to be overtaken by another fit of coughing.

Sae stood nearby, his expression cold but his sharp eyes locked on Yumi, watching her closely. "Spit it out," he ordered, his tone cutting like a blade.

Yumi coughed again, clutching her chest as she finally managed to speak. "Y/n…" she gasped, her words broken. "She… she’s stuck!"

The group froze.

"What do you mean, stuck?" Kaito demanded, his voice rising in alarm.

Yumi shook her head, struggling to get the words out. "The rocks... under the water," she stammered, her voice hoarse. "They're falling apart… trapping her… she can’t get out!"

Ayaka let out a horrified gasp, covering her mouth with trembling hands. "Oh my god. She went back for you," she whispered.

Renji stood abruptly, panic flashing across his face. "What do we do? We can’t just—"

Sae cut him off, his voice sharp and commanding. "Enough." His patience had worn thin. Not only were the others incompetent; they were actively ruining their chances of survival. And now, their uselessness was putting the only other capable member of the group at risk. 

He barely restrained the insult that threatened to escape his lips, his jaw tightening with the effort of doing so.

But his tone left no room for debate, “The code is 056020. Go.” There was no hesitation, he didn’t even wait for their acknowledgement, already turning towards the lake.

The group exchanged uneasy glances, their fear mounting as Sae began peeling off his shirt, his expression colder and more resolute than ever. The intensity in his eyes silenced any protests before they could form.

"You stay here," he commanded, fixing them with a glare that made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate dissent. "She doesn’t have time for your panic."

Renji, Ayaka, and Kaito scrambled toward the number panel, their hands trembling as they keyed in the code. The pressure of the timer and Sae’s scornful words hung heavy over them.

Without another word, he dove into the lake. The cold didn’t faze him. The lake seemed to swirl and writhe around him as he dove deeper, and in moments, his hand gripped your unconscious form. He pushed the rocks away from you, caring not to graze your bleeding leg any further as he tugged you closer.

He lifted you from the depths, your limp body weightless in his arms, as though you were nothing more than a plush doll. His voice was soft as he whispered, "You did well." The words, barely more than a breath, carried an unspoken admiration.

As he carried you to shore, the others, trembling and terrified, finally entered the code.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

When you finally regained full consciousness, the scent of disinfectants filled the air, waking your racing thoughts. The chaos of the game was gone. There was only silence.

You blinked, your vision foggy as you tried to process everything. As it cleared, you found Sae sitting beside you, his eyes focused on you with an intensity you weren't used to. There was an unfamiliar flicker in his gaze—concern, maybe, though it was quickly masked by his usual coldness.

You tried to sit up, but your body felt heavy, and a sharp pain shot through your leg. Looking down, you noticed your lower leg tightly bandaged. The weight of the game, the stress—it all clung to you like a second skin. 

You were back at the beach, in your shared quarters with Kaede. 

Sae was sitting beside you, his gaze focused on you. He handed you a glass of water, his cold fingers brushing against yours briefly. You drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat but doing little to ease the lingering ache in your body.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice hoarse and unsteady. “What time is it?”

Sae didn’t respond right away. His eyes flickered to the side for a moment, as though weighing his words carefully. When he finally spoke, his tone was as neutral as ever, stripped of any emotion,

“You were unconscious when I found you. You did your part,” he said bluntly.

Your brow furrowed at his cryptic response. “And… my leg?” you pressed, glancing down at the bandage.

“I cleaned your wounds,” Sae replied flatly, his expression neutral. “It wasn’t deep, but you bled a lot. Someone had to make sure you didn’t get an infection.”

For a moment, you stared at him, caught off guard by his admission. From what you’ve heard from the others, he wasn’t one to say things like that, let alone do something so… considerate. “Thank you,” you murmured, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Sae’s lips twitched, but whether it was the hint of a smile or a grimace, you couldn’t tell. “Don’t make a habit of needing help,” he said coldly, standing abruptly. “You’re lucky this time.” 

With a final glance in your direction, he left without another word.

Just then, Kaede entered the room. The worry was clear on her face, and before you could react, she jumped onto your bed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Hey, Kae,” you groaned, wincing at the pressure on your aching body. “I missed you too, but I’ll die of suffocation if you don’t let go soon.”

Kaede pulled back slightly, her face filled with concern. “I was so worried about you, Y/n. How could you be so reckless?! Putting others before yourself like that.”

“Now, now, I couldn’t just ignore someone who needed help,” you replied with a tired smile. “But hey, how was your game?”

Kaede’s expression shifted slightly, a heaviness settling in her eyes. She quickly masked it, but you caught the subtle change. Any other person might have missed it, but you and Kaede shared a bond that no one else had. You knew her well enough to see when something was off, even if she wasn’t saying it aloud. You weren’t gonna push the subject since it clearly bothered her.

“It was fine,” she said, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. “Nothing new.” She was quick to change the subject, though, her teasing tone returning as she raised an eyebrow. “But word is running around that you made the ‘oh-so-self-centered’ Itoshi Sae save you.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

Kaede chuckled, clearly amused by the rumors. “Oh, yeah. Apparently, you had to get saved by him. Way to go, Ms. Irresistible, looks like you still have it in you.”

You sighed, sinking back into your pillows as you fought off the lingering exhaustion. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, but she wasn’t convinced and continued badgering you for answers about the game.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The following morning, you walked into the lobby, only to notice your name wasn’t on the assigned list and neither was Sae’s. 

Instead, Ego had written you a personal note informing you that you’d been given a month off due to your injuries. Since you’d just completed multiple games, you had more than a month left on your visa. The news was a relief.

You headed toward the dining area, the scent of freshly prepared food filling your nose. There, at the end of a long table, Sae was seated, quietly eating his breakfast. 

“Good morning,” you said, your voice low but steady. 

Sae glanced up, nodding in acknowledgment but saying nothing. You stood there for a moment, feeling the unfamiliar quiet around you before you added, “Mind if I join you?”

With a minimal gesture, he motioned to the empty seat across from him, his eyes still fixed on the medium-rare steak in front of him. You slid into the seat, the sound of the chair scraping lightly against the floor filling the space between you.

The silence was awkward, different from the usual noise of Kaede and Bachira's constant chatter. It was strange, uncomfortable even. 

You picked at your food, the eggs on your plate still warm but not particularly appetizing. The room hummed with soft voices from other tables, but the two of you remained quiet.

Finally, Sae broke the silence, his voice low and sharp. His words caught you off guard. “Why did you do it?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. You weren’t expecting such a direct question this early in the day. “Why put yourself in danger yesterday? It wasn’t your responsibility.”

You stole a quick glance at him, acutely aware of the weight of his gaze. His conversations were always so unpredictable, you thought. Still, you answered, keeping your tone steady, not wanting to sound defensive. “Someone had to save her,” you said simply. “I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze slicing through you. “You had nothing to gain,” he pointed out, his voice turning colder. “Most people here wouldn’t lift a finger unless it benefited them. Why are you any different?”

You let out a slow breath, this was starting to sound like a job interview. Your gaze drifted to the window, where the first light of day was creeping over the horizon. “Because I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t do what felt right,” you answered, your voice quieter now, less certain but resolute. “I don’t just want to survive, Sae. I want to remember who I am, even in this place.”

The words hung between you, and for a moment, Sae said nothing. His expression was neutral, his eyes fixed on his plate. He didn’t respond right away, as if weighing your response in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost introspective. “You think that’s enough? Being yourself?”

You met his gaze now, steady but thoughtful. “Maybe not,” you admitted, “But it’s the only thing I have control over.”

He studied you for a moment, and the tension in the air seemed to shift, as though cogs had clicked into place. “You’re either brave or foolish,” he said finally, his tone still sharp but with the faintest hint of interest. “I can’t decide which.”

You let out a small, almost amused sigh. “A bit of both, probably.”

Sae huffed, his lips curling into the faintest of smirks, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Idealism isn’t going to keep you alive.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a trace of a smile playing on your lips. “It’s not idealism,” you countered, meeting his gaze directly. “It’s just… who I am.”

“Who you are won’t matter if you’re dead.”

You held his gaze, unflinching. “Then why did you pull me out?”

The question made Sae pause. His jaw tightened for just a moment, and you could see a flicker of emotion—frustration? It was gone before you could fully catch it. He answered simply, his voice low, almost hesitant. “I didn’t want to waste the effort of watching you throw it all away.”

You smirked, a hint of sarcasm creeping into your tone. “Sure,” you replied dryly. “Because that’s all it was; effort.”

Sae’s expression shifted, his control slipping for just a fraction of a second. It was subtle, but you saw it. “Don’t misunderstand. You’re interesting, but interest doesn’t mean trust.”

“I wasn’t asking for your trust,” you said quietly, your voice softer now. “Just… trying to understand.”

For a long beat, he studied you. When he finally spoke again, it was with a quieter, almost distant tone. “If you want to survive here, don’t make decisions based on feelings. The only thing that matters is winning.”

You set your fork down, and with a probing question, you asked, “And what happens after you win?”

Sae didn’t answer immediately. He stared ahead, his gaze distant, as if considering something far beyond the confines of the dining hall. Finally, when he did speak, his voice was quieter. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

You chuckled, the corners of your lips twitching with amusement. “Just so you know,” you said, setting your glass of water down with a soft clink, “You really suck at making casual conversation.”

His expression remained neutral, but his tone softened slightly. “It was genuine curiosity.” 

This was likely the beginning of your unlikely friendship with Mr. Genius. He was different from the rest of them after all. Perhaps Sendou had been wrong about him, or maybe he had only scratched the surface of Sae’s complexities. 

It intrigued you, drew you in, even if you weren’t entirely sure why. You wanted to get to know him, not as a means to secure your survival or win his approval, but simply as a person. A normal connection in a world where everything felt anything but that.

Still, whatever lay hidden beneath his icy exterior wasn’t something you could grasp. Not yet, at least.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

“For the record, this isn’t part of the Beach’s all-inclusive package,” Sae said dryly, stepping aside to let you in his room despite his comment.

Even with the comfort and relief your month off afforded you, the boredom had crept in faster than expected. Kaede was frequently assigned tasks and spent most of her time with Aiku, leaving you with long, uneventful hours to fill. 

By the second day, you’d already exhausted your limited entertainment options and that’s how you found yourself standing outside one of the Beach’s exclusive suites. The one occupied by a certain red-haired executive.

“Really? I thought hospitality was included in the package,” you quipped, striding into the room without hesitation.

He raised an eyebrow at your boldness, closing the door behind you. “And here I thought you’d find better ways to waste your time.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” you shot back, scanning the room. It was impeccably tidy, with no sign of personal clutter, no books, no scattered clothes, not even an empty glass on the counter. “But since you’ve got all this space to yourself, I figured I’d grace you with some company.”

Sae gave you a flat look, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Company? Or are you just here to entertain yourself?”

“Can’t it be both?” you countered with a smirk, flopping onto one of the couches. “Besides, you owe me for saving your reputation as the cool-headed genius. Imagine what people would say if they knew you pulled me out of that game.”

He scoffed, but the faintest twitch of amusement tugged at the corner of his lips. “Let them talk. I don’t care about their opinions.”

You leaned back, folding your arms behind your head. “So, what do you do for fun, Mr. Itoshi? Or is brooding your only hobby?”

“I don’t brood,” he replied, his tone neutral but with a hint of defensiveness. “Unlike some people, I don’t need constant distraction.”

“Oh, right, because you’re too busy being a weirdo,” you teased.

He stared at you for a moment, as if debating whether to respond, before finally speaking. “If you’re going to sit here and bother me, at least make yourself useful.”

“Useful?” you echoed, feigning offense. “I’m the most useful person in this room right now. Without me, who’d remind you to lighten up?”

Sae let out a quiet huff, almost a laugh but not quite. “You’re insufferable.”

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

Surprisingly, Sae Itoshi could be quite agreeable.

It started small, like quiet conversations in his suite, debates about the pointlessness of certain games, and occasional sarcastic jabs that somehow felt less biting each time.

You discovered that, despite his aloof demeanor, Sae had a surprisingly talkative side when the mood struck him. Through one of those rare conversations, you learned he was a professional football player. While your football knowledge was that of a toddler, your adventurous nature wouldn’t let such an opportunity go to waste.

If only there were a football field somewhere in this eerie city, you’d have eagerly asked him to join you. But since there wasn’t, you settled for dragging him to the Beach’s bowling alley instead. 

You figured he might enjoy a ball-related game, even if it wasn’t quite the same. Of course, you didn’t dare mention your “logical reasoning” to him; he’d probably take offense at the idea that you associated bowling with his beloved soccer. 

Instead, you framed it as something to pass the time, though his skeptical glance suggested he saw right through you.

“You think rolling a ball at pins is a worthwhile way to spend time?” he asked, unimpressed.

The irony wasn’t lost on you, though you held back the urge to point it out directly. And yet you play in a team that kicks balls for a living, you thought to yourself with a smirk. “Better than sitting in your room sulking,” you shot back.

The competitive glint in his sharp eyes became unmistakable, and his precision started to show.

Neither of you had paid much attention to the scoreboard until a sudden burst of confetti erupted from the ceiling, startling you. The sound of clinking mechanisms followed, accompanied by an unexpected jingle of triumph. 

A small chute dispensed the prize: a plump seagull plush, its goofy expression and floppy wings entirely out of place in the empty, unenthusiastic bowling alley. You both stared at it for a moment before Sae picked it up, his expression a mixture of confusion and faint embarrassment.

“Here,” he muttered, thrusting it toward you without looking in your direction. His usual composure wavered.

You blinked, surprised. Your lips quirked into a small smile as you tilted your head slightly, leaning in just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. He was stubbornly avoiding your gaze, his ears suspiciously red at the edges.

“Are you going to take it or just keep staring?” he said, his voice gruff but lacking its usual bite. Finally, he turned to face you, his teal eyes flickering.

Biting back a laugh, you reached out and took the plush from his hands. It was soft and silly in design, a stark contrast to the brooding atmosphere Sae carried with him. Clutching the toy against your chest, you grinned. “Didn’t think I’d leave here with a souvenir,” you teased lightly, your tone laced with genuine gratitude. “Thanks, Sae.”

He scoffed, turning his head slightly, but not fast enough to hide the faint tint of red creeping over his cheeks. “It’s just a stupid plush. Don’t make it a big deal.”

Holding the seagull plush tighter, you couldn’t help but think that, goofy as it was, it might just be the thing anyone has ever given you.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

You wondered if he’d actually warmed up to you. It didn’t feel as one-sided as it had at the start. Maybe this really had turned into a friendship—or something close to it. But the question remained: what exactly did you mean to him? Because you knew he wasn’t someone you could force into anything he did not want to do.

Sure, he complained. There were sighs, eye-rolls, muttered insults. But in the end, he always went along with it.

You were being delusional. Maybe, for him, this was nothing more than a way to pass time in this strange world. And if that’s the case you’d make the most of it.

That’s how you came up with the idea of dragging him to the karaoke rooms. It was stupid, sure, but the thought of getting someone like Sae to stand under disco lights with a microphone was too tempting to resist.

But when you opened the door to one of the karaoke rooms, you froze. 

Lounging on the plush couch was Oliver Aiku, a girl straddling his lap. Her laughter rang out as Aiku whispered something into her ear, his grin as smooth and shameless as ever.

Your gaze quickly darted to the girl’s face, and you nearly choked on your surprise—it was Kaede.

Kaede, on the other hand, looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Aiku glanced up, his expression as smug as ever. Kaede flushed bright red, quickly scrambling off Aiku’s lap.

Still laughing, you waved Kaede a quick goodbye and followed Sae out of the room, unable to resist one last quip.

If you’d learned anything that day, it was that no matter how mundane or pointless he claimed a situation to be, he would still follow you. Yet, you couldn’t fully bring yourself to believe it, knowing that if you were wrong it would only crush the growing feelings in your fragile heart.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The night air seeped through the thin cracks of your window, the cold brushing against your skin as you sat cross-legged on the floor of your room. The faint hum of the Beach’s generators was the only sound. Kaede was sprawled across the bed, her head resting on her hand as she stared at you with a look that was far too knowing.

The conversation had started innocently enough, idle talk about the games, the people here, and the way life seemed to teeter constantly on the edge of chaos. But then her words shifted, growing softer, heavier with meaning. 

“You know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I think I’m falling for him. For Aiku.”

You blinked, her words pulling you from the depths of your thoughts. Aiku, the ever-charming executive with his disarming smirk. The way Kaede spoke, her voice tinged with an unfamiliar vulnerability, made it clear she was serious.

“I didn’t expect it,” she admitted, her gaze dropping to her lap. “It’s not like he’s been anything but himself—cocky, annoying, impossible to ignore. But there’s something there, something more to him.”

Her confession sent a ripple of recognition through you. That sense of being drawn to someone, of being unable to shake the weight of their presence—it wasn’t foreign to you. You felt it too, for Sae that is.

Kaede must have noticed the change in your expression because she lifted her eyes to meet yours. Her gaze was perceptive, and far too knowing. “And you,” she started, her tone gentler now. “Don’t even try to deny it. You like him, don’t you? Itoshi Sae.”

The words hit you like a blow, and your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to shrug it off, to laugh at her assumption, but the sincerity in her voice disarmed you. The cold of the room felt even sharper against your cheeks as heat crept up to them. 

You bit your lip and gave the smallest of nods, your hands clutching the edge of your blanket like a lifeline.

Kaede’s expression softened, and she sat up, her hair falling messily over her shoulder. “It’s okay, you know,” she said, her voice quieter now, as if afraid to shatter the fragile admission you’d just made. “This place… it’s cruel. It makes us cling to things, to people, to anything that feels real. You’re human. So am I.”

A laugh bubbled out of you—soft, strained, almost bitter. “Yeah, but falling in love? Now? That’s not exactly the smartest move, is it?”

Kaede tilted her head, studying you. “Maybe not. But I think he cares about you more than you realize.”

You looked away, your gaze fixed on the open windowpane, it’s a bit far-fetched. “Even if he does… I can’t risk it. What we have now—it’s good. It’s safe. I don’t want to ruin that. If I say anything, if I… admit it to him, I might lose it.”

Kaede reached out, her hand covering yours, warm against the chill of the room. “You’re scared,” she said softly. “I get it. But don’t let fear stop you. We don’t know when this nightmare is gonna end, we might as well start living it.”

Her words lingered long after she’d fallen asleep, her breathing steady in the silence. You stayed by the window, staring out into the night, your heart heavy with the truth you couldn’t bring yourself to share with him. Fear wasn’t just stopping you—it was paralyzing. Because the thought of losing Sae, even in the smallest way, was unbearable.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The Beach, with all its illusions of safety and utopia, could only hold back reality for so long. If your visa runs out, no matter where you hid, you’re dead. Today marked your last day of time off—and you already missed most of it.

When you opened the door to your room however, Sae was already standing there. His expression was unreadable, his arm extended toward the door indicating that he was one second away from knocking it himself.

“Missed me?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe.

He quirked an unimpressed brow, his voice dry as he replied, “I just wanted to check if your idiot ass didn’t accidentally get flushed down the toilet.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at your lips. Without much thought, you suggested skipping stones by the nearby river—a callback to the night you first met him. You wouldn’t admit it to his face, but you’d been longing to see him, to spend time with him, no matter how mundane the activity, as long as it was with him.

Sae, predictably, was skeptical. His gaze fell to the smooth pebbles in your hand, his brow furrowing slightly as if they were alien artifacts.

You gave a small smile, clearly unfazed. “It’s therapeutic,” you countered, tossing a stone with a flick of your wrist. The stone skittered across the water’s surface, bouncing three times before it sank beneath the surface with a soft plop. “See? It’s about finding rhythm.”

Sae stared at the smooth, round stones in your hand as if they were strange objects. “Therapeutic? It’s a rock. And water,” he said, his tone more skeptical than anything else.

“Come on, show me what you’ve got,” you prodded, tossing him a stone with a playful smirk.

His first attempt was, to put it mildly, clumsy. The stone barely left his hand before it plopped straight into the river with no grace, no finesse. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. 

“The great Itoshi Sae, defeated by a rock,” you teased, leaning against the riverbank with a wide grin.

His gaze flickered over to you, he really did hate losing. “Don’t push it,” he warned, though the sharp edge usually present in his tone was absent. It was almost as if your laughter had softened him, or at least caught him off guard.

Determined to prove himself, he picked up another stone, his jaw set in concentration. This time, his flick of the wrist was smoother. The stone skimmed across the water—one, two, three, four, FIVE times—before it sank with a soft ripple.

You blinked, genuinely impressed. “Not bad for a beginner,” you said, a slight, almost reluctant nod of approval following the words though betrayed by your most beaming smile.

He didn’t respond, but you caught the faintest flicker of satisfaction in his expression.

“I used to come here whenever I felt overwhelmed,” you shared, breaking the silence. Then, with a teasing grin, you added, “I’m sure you already knew that, since you were stalking me my first night at the Beach.”

His gaze flicked to you, and with practiced indifference, he replied, “I was just passing by.”

“Sure, sure,” you said, letting the topic drop as you idly tossed a pebble into the air and caught it in your palm. Your gaze drifted toward the river, your tone shifting to something quieter, more reflective. “So, it’s our last day, huh?”

“It’s not like we’re going to die tomorrow or something,” he replied casually, but his words faltered when he noticed your eyes glistening.

“We could,” you said, your voice trembling. “That’s what’s terrifying—we could die.” You buried your face in your palms, your quiet sobs breaking the night’s stillness.

The month had passed in a blur. Your moments with Sae had become a comforting routine—quiet conversations, playful banter, and a silent understanding that grounded you in this surreal reality. But as the end of the month loomed, so did the overwhelming fear of what lay ahead.

What he did next was something you never expected. Sae stepped closer. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm yet careful, as if you were a fragile piece of glassware, afraid you might break. The cool night air nipped at your skin, his warmth wrapped around you, calming your frayed nerves.

“We’ll be fine,” he murmured, his voice low but resolute. “And if it helps, I’ll look out for you. Whenever I can, always.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-streaked lashes. “You promise?”

His response caught you off guard—not the nod or silence you expected, but a firm, steady, “I do.”

The sincerity in his voice and the gentle pat on your head made your heart ache in a way that was both painful and reassuring. For now, it was enough.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

Returning to the games, you found yourself shuffled between other executives.

One day, it was Kaiser and Ness, leading a Diamond game that required intricate strategy and manipulation. The next, you were paired with Don Lorenzo for a Spade game that pushed your physical limits, his menacing smiles exhibiting his golden teeth giving you constant discomfort. Even Loki’s charm couldn’t soften the brutality of a Club game that demanded relentless cooperation among strangers who knew nothing about each other.

No matter the variation in challenges or how cunning the leaders, the truth remained constant: this place was designed to break you.

During the times you were assigned to Sae, however, things were different. The casual interactions you once shared had shifted into something more professional. He was focused, sharp, and detached in front of others. Yet, even then, he didn’t fail to show that he cared. His gestures were subtle—an extra moment of consideration, a quietly murmured “be careful,” or the way he placed himself between you and danger without hesitation.

You were certain the others noticed the faint special treatment, even if Sae masked it well. But when no one else was watching, he dropped the pretense and treated you like a friend, like he always had.

It was during one of these unguarded moments that he handed you a bottle of water after a grueling game. His tone was brusque, but his actions were anything but, pushing it into your hand before walking off.

Or the time he lingered by your side after a particularly taxing Spade game. You’d been injured. It was just a scrape, really—but his gaze had darkened when he saw the blood. Without a word, he’d torn a piece of his shirt to wrap around your arm, his movements quick and efficient.

And then came that day.

One you could never have prepared for, no matter how much time you had.

In the Borderlands, there were no police, no FBI, no medics to retrieve the bodies. Death was final, and corpses were left to rot where they fell. But this time, it was different. This time, there was an attempt at retrieval—but it was far from professional. 

The body was wrapped hastily in stained, reeking cloth, its outline grotesque, the pungent stench of death wafting through the air like a cruel mockery.

The sight offended every fiber of your being, not because of the lack of care but because of the unmistakable shade of blonde hair peeking out from beneath the blood-soaked fabric.

Kaede.

Your best friend.

You didn’t just cry—you wailed. Your voice tore through the air, a raw, guttural sound of anguish that clawed at your throat and left your chest heaving. The sobs wracked your body, a visceral release of the horror and grief that threatened to consume you whole.

It felt like the world had taken a blade and plunged it into your chest repeatedly, then run you over with a bus as the cherry on top. Your knees buckled, but you couldn’t fall. Not yet.

Bachira had explained the horror of the game she’d been trapped in, though you hadn’t needed the details to piece together the nightmare. A Heart game—vicious, cruel, and unforgiving. One player had been chosen to harbor the 9 of Hearts card, concealed within their body by the twisted hands of the game master; they would have to kill that person. 

That player had been Kaede.

She had known. 

They had all known. 

Aiku, Reo, and Bachira himself had tried everything to protect her. Even if it meant fighting and shedding blood for her sake. But she had made the ultimate choice. By slitting her throat herself to spare them, she couldn’t bear to be the sole survivor in that awful, awful game.

Her life had ended by her own hand, but the horror didn’t stop there. 

The card was needed to end the game. It was stuffed inside her lungs, to force the survivors to desecrate her body in the name of their own survival. Anri Teieri, a surgeon, was the only one capable of performing the task of retrieving it without as much as ruining her perfectly maintained corpse.

“No! Stop! Don’t touch her!” you screamed, thrashing in the lobby as they prepared to take her body away. Everything about it is sick, disgusting. Your voice cracked, and your struggles were wild, desperate, animalistic.

Sae had rushed toward you as soon as he heard the news. He was the only thing keeping you from collapsing completely. He held you back, his arms a steady force as you fought against him with everything you had.

“I’m sorry,” Reo muttered, his voice thick with tears. His face was battered, one eye swollen shut, his body covered in cuts and bruises. He cradled Kaede’s lifeless form in his arms as he carried her toward the basement where Anri waited.

“Where’s Aiku?” you screamed, your voice raw and broken.

Reo’s steps faltered. He didn’t look at you as he answered. “Unconscious. He’s in a coma… in the clinic.”

You felt like you were shattering, splintering into a million irreparable pieces.

You wanted to scream, to curse the world, to make it all stop, but Sae’s arms never left you. He had kept his word, that he’d always look out for you. He was your anchor, the only thing keeping you from being swept away by the tide of despair.

And even as the world seemed to crumble around you, his presence was the only thing that kept you standing. 

That night, Sae didn’t leave you to face the hollow void of your shared room with Kaede. Instead, he let you stay in his. The silence between you was heavy, but not unbearable, it was better than the oppressive emptiness that awaited you in yours.

That night, as you lay curled up on his bed, you asked him, your voice trembling, if he swore he’d never leave you, cause you just lost Kae, and you couldn’t bear to lose him too. 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you close, his arms encircling you in a way that felt both protective and fleeting. You buried your face in his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and for a brief moment, it was enough.

He was still there for you in the ways that mattered most. When a game pushed you to your limits and you stumbled back into the lobby, bruised and battered, he was always the first to offer you water or silently leave a pack of bandages on your table. When nightmares jolted you awake in the dead of night, he would come moments later, as if sensing your distress, and sit beside you until you fell back asleep.

One evening, after a particularly brutal Club game, you found yourself limping back into the beach, blood trickling from a gash on your arm. Sae was waiting, leaning against the wall with his usual composed demeanor. He caught sight of your injury and immediately took your arm, leading you to a seat.

“Hold still,” he said, his voice low and steady as he cleaned the wound with practiced care.

“Thank you,” you murmured, searching his face for any sign of the warmth he once had. But his expression was unreadable, his eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

His gestures started to feel… distant. Like he was fulfilling an obligation rather than offering genuine care.

Later that night, you found a bowl of steaming soup left at your door, but when you sought him out to thank him, he was nowhere to be found.

More and more, it became harder to find him outside of games. He stopped lingering in the lobby after debriefings, his presence becoming increasingly scarce. Even during the times you were paired together, his demeanor seemed colder, more professional.

You tried to bring it up one night, catching him in a rare moment of quiet. “You’ve been distant lately,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, though the heaviness in your chest made it hard.

“I’ve been busy,” he replied curtly, his gaze fixed on the horizon rather than you.

“But—”

“You’re strong. You don’t need me hovering over you all the time,” he interrupted.

It was a contradiction, you realized. He was still there when you needed him, but he was pulling away in every other sense. It was as if he was trying to keep you safe while also building walls around himself.

You didn’t know if it was out of guilt, fear, or something else entirely. But as much as it hurt, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him fully, not when you knew how much he’d already done for you.

And so, you let the distance grow, even as it tore at the fragile connection you still clung to.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

You had always believed it would remain that way. No matter how distant he became, no matter how much he avoided you, he would never truly leave you. There was a fragile comfort in that thought, a belief that despite the growing space between you, some invisible tether still connected the two of you.

But now, curled up in your blanket after that one day, the truth weighed heavy on your chest. You had assumed wrong.

It was late that day. The Beach had settled into its uneasy quiet, the faint hum of electricity in the hallways the only sound. You had been in your room, lost in thought, when a knock startled you.

When you opened the door, Sae was standing there. His expression was unreadable, his teal eyes darker than usual, shadowed by something you couldn’t quite name.

“Sae?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t say anything, but he had sad eyes. 

He stepped forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. Before you could process what was happening, his hand cupped your face, his touch surprisingly gentle, and his lips were on yours.

The kiss was sudden, and yet it felt like the culmination of every unspoken moment between you. It was rushed, desperate, as though he were trying to say something words couldn’t convey, as though he were racing against time, as if the moment were his only chance. 

As if it was goodbye.

Your heart was pounding, your thoughts spiraling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

And just as quickly as it started, it was over.

Sae stepped back, his hand falling to his side, his expression once again closed off. He looked at you for a moment—just a moment—and then he turned on his heel and walked away without a word.

You stood frozen in the doorway, your fingers brushing your lips, still warm from his. A thousand questions filled your mind, but no answers came. 

The door clicked shut behind you as you sank onto the bed, your thoughts a tangled mess. Whatever had just happened, it had changed everything. And yet, as much as you wanted to chase after him, to demand an explanation, you stayed where you were, uncertain and unsteady.

Sae Itoshi had kissed you, and then he walked away.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

If you had the slightest idea of asking him for any sort of clarity, you couldn’t, not because you didn’t want to, but because you literally couldn’t. 

He shut you out. 

It wasn’t just the silence that stung, it was the absence of his presence, the subtle shift in the air when he was no longer around. He hadn’t spoken to you since that day, and the changes that followed were probably his doing as well. 

You no longer saw him during games. Instead, you were constantly assigned to other executives. 

At first, you thought it might be a coincidence, but as the days turned into weeks, it became painfully clear that it wasn’t. It was as though a door had been quietly, irrevocably shut between you.

The shift didn’t end there. The small gestures—those fleeting moments of acknowledgment or shared silence—became rarer. The places you’d once walked together were now foreign, empty. 

Even the odd shared glance was gone. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at you with any semblance of interest, let alone spoken to you. The brief connection you had once shared seemed to be slipping away, eroding, until all that was left was a hollow echo of what once was.

And for the first time, you felt what it was like to be truly alone.

The loneliness crept in slowly at first, like a shadow you couldn’t quite shake off. 

There was a heavy emptiness in the spaces he used to occupy—his absence a constant reminder that whatever bond had existed between you had been severed. 

The laughter, the fleeting moments of understanding, the quiet companionship in a world that felt too loud—it all felt like a distant memory now.

The others? They weren’t the same. Conversations with the other executives were strained, more transactional than meaningful. They didn’t ask about you in the same way, didn’t seem to care in the same way. You were a cog in the machine to them, just another role to fill.

Even the quiet moments you used to cherish—standing at the river, skipping stones, the comfort of being near someone without needing words—felt impossibly far away now. Those moments were yours and his, but now they felt like they belonged to someone else, to a version of yourself that no longer existed.

Each day, you woke up with the sense that something was missing, but you couldn’t put your finger on what. And maybe you didn’t need to. 

The truth was already clear: you were alone. And you had no idea how long it would be before you could find your way back to something that resembled the connection you once had.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

It was around 2 in the morning when you heard the knock on your door. Groaning, you rolled out of bed, still caught in the haze of sleep. Stumbling toward the door, you swung it open, expecting a false alarm or maybe your overzealous roommate. Instead, your breath caught in your throat.

It was Sae.

He stood there, his usually composed demeanor fractured, discomfort etched across his face. His shirt sleeve was soaked with blood, the dark stain spreading ominously. 

"I need your help," he said, his voice low but urgent.

His fatigue was unmistakable, and the rigid tension in his posture only made him seem more vulnerable—a version of Sae you had never seen before. 

In all honesty, you were mad at him, no, you were furious. The audacity he had to show up now, seeking your help without so much as an explanation for his sudden and complete avoidance. Every ounce of anger you’d suppressed threatened to bubble to the surface, but you weren’t a petty person. You saw the blood, the pain he tried so hard to conceal, and that was enough to silence your protests. Instinctively, you stepped aside to let him in, but the sight of your roommate fast asleep on her bed made you pause.

Sae’s gaze flicked to her, and for a moment, his teal eyes softened, understanding the situation without you saying a word.

"I’ll wait for you," he said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically patient.

Grabbing the first-aid kit from your dresser, you followed him down the hall to his room. The silence between you was almost suffocating, the sound of your footsteps echoing against the walls.

When you reached his room, he was already sitting on the couch by the window, his back turned to you. The faint glow of the streetlights filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. He unbuttoned his sleeve, rolling it up to reveal the source of the blood—a deep, jagged gash carved into his upper arm.

The sight made your stomach twist, but you forced yourself to focus. Sitting beside him, you began to clean the wound. Sae didn’t flinch, but you noticed the faint tightening of his jaw whenever the antiseptic touched raw skin. His silence was heavy, as though he was holding back not just pain but words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

"What happened?" you asked softly, breaking the quiet.

Sae hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It was a difficult one. Heart game,” he said finally, his voice clipped and distant. “Got slashed during the final round.”

The weight of his words hit you like a wave. This wasn’t just about the gash on his arm—it was a brutal reminder of the relentless stakes in this world, where survival demanded more than just physical endurance. Every wound, every scar was a testament to the unforgiving cost of staying alive.

You gathered the first-aid supplies with steady hands, though your heart pounded in your chest. Sae sat silently, watching you prepare a needle and thread. The sharp metallic scent of antiseptic filled the air as you cleaned the wound, your fingers brushing against his skin.

“This is going to hurt,” you murmured, glancing up at him.

He nodded, jaw tightening as you began stitching the wound with precise, practiced movements. Each pass of the needle through his flesh was met with his silent endurance, though his sharp intake of breath betrayed the pain. 

The room was heavy with quiet, broken only by the soft rustle of bandages and the subtle rhythm of Sae’s breathing. The tension between you felt almost palpable, lingering like an unspoken truth neither of you dared to voice.

When you tied off the final stitch and leaned back to inspect your work, you let out a small breath of relief. “That should hold,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. But as your eyes met his, the gratitude and something deeper in his gaze made your chest tighten, leaving you wondering what words he was holding back.

Sae’s teal eyes flicked to yours. For a moment, they softened, and the tension in his shoulders eased. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice stripped of its usual sharp edge.

You stood to return the first-aid kit, the sound of the latch snapping shut echoing in the stillness of the room. When you turned back, the air in the room seemed thicker, charged with unspoken tension.

Something unspoken hung between you, growing louder in the silence.

The weight of it finally broke you.

“Am I really just someone for your convenience?” Your voice trembled, the question carrying the burden of weeks of uncertainty. “It’s unfair, you shut me out, you drop me, and then you come to me for help like nothing happened. Everything you’re doing is so unfair, Sae.”

His expression faltered, guilt flickering across his face like lightning through a darkened sky.

You pressed on, your words spilling out like a flood you couldn’t stop. “One moment, you’re prince charming—pulling me aside, whispering, ‘Come, let’s get lost for a while,’ making me feel like I’m the only person in this godforsaken hellhole who matters. And the next? You vanish. Like none of it meant anything. What am I supposed to make of that kiss?”

Tears welled in your eyes, the ache in your chest tightening like a vice. Frustration and heartache bleeding into every syllable. “If I’m wrong, just say it. Just say the words, and I’ll walk away. We can forget all of this, if that’s what you want.”

Your voice cracked, the weight of your emotions making it difficult to steady yourself.

You clenched your fists at your sides, fighting to maintain your composure.

“I’m not asking for some grand declaration of love,” you continued, your tone softer now but no less desperate. “I just can’t keep going like this, stuck in this limbo, with all these questions in my head.”

The soundproof walls of the room seemed to hold your speech, amplifying the vulnerability in every syllable as the silence around you pressed in.

Sae’s gaze fixed on yours, intense, but he remained silent. His normally detached expression was etched with shame, regret, and something you couldn’t quite place.

“Why don’t you say something?!” you exclaimed, your hands gesturing wildly, to fill the void of his silence carved into this very room.

His eyes darkened, brows knitting together as if fighting some invisible war within himself. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck straining as though he were holding back an eruption of words. For a moment, it seemed like he might walk away, leave you drowning in the sea of your own emotions.

But then, without a word, he reached out, catching your balled fists in his hands.

He brought them to his lips, his kiss soft but weighted with unspoken apologies. “I’m sorry,” he finally murmured, his voice barely audible. His jaw clenched, as though struggling to get the words out. “I can’t tell you everything right now. I just… I need you to trust me.”

Trust him? The thought was ridiculous, a bitter sting rising in your chest.

Your hands trembled as you shook your head, voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears.

"You don’t care about me, Sae," you choked out, the words laced with raw hurt. "You just use me... like you do everyone else." Each syllable felt like tearing open a wound, exposing the ache you’d tried so hard to bury. 

"No," he said sharply. "You don’t get it."

"Don’t I?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You act like I’m expendable, but here I am, falling in love with the most detached person in the world." 

The words lingered in the charged air, your confession landing like a stone thrown into still water.

Sae’s eyes widened, shock flashing across his face. But beneath it, there was a flicker of longing, of pain.

Sae was never a man of words. You knew that all too well. But as you turned, the weight of the moment threatening to crush you, his hand caught your wrist, keeping you from running away.

Before you could protest, he stood, the quiet intensity in his eyes rooting you in place. In one swift movement, he pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm and unyielding, as if holding you was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart.

The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, chasing away the cold ache in your chest. His hands rose to your face, trembling slightly as they cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that fell freely now. His gaze locked onto yours—raw, unguarded, and so painfully human it stole the breath from your lungs.

“Sae…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your heart.

He said nothing. He didn’t have to. The honesty reflected in his teal eyes spoke louder than words ever could—a silent confession, a unspoken yet undeniable promise.

And then, with agonizing slowness, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours.

This kiss was everything the first was not.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate, it was soft and sensible, filled with a quiet intensity that made your heart ache. He kissed you as if trying to tell you everything that he couldn't quite put into words. A deep apology for the agony and isolation you went through. 

You knew you should pull away, demand answers, cling to the anger that had simmered inside you. Instead, you let yourself fall deeper, surrendering to the emotions that you held back for far too long. Your hands found their way to his chest, then to the back of his neck, fingers trembling slightly as you kissed him back with equal intensity.

His touch was soft against you, one hand cradling the back of your head as the kiss deepened , the other resting lightly on your jaw. Each passing second melting into and the world around you dissolved into a hazy blur until all you could see, feel, and breathe was him.

You'd be lying if you said you haven't been with anyone else before, but it had never felt like this. A conflict between your rational mind and the rest of your body craving for his touch.

Slowly, you felt his hands move to cup your ass, gently squeezing the plush skin as you moaned against his mouth. He took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your eager mouth, gliding alongside his own like sweet honey.

His hands travelled lower, grabbing your thighs to lift you up and proceeded to carry you towards the bed, not daring to break that heated kiss.

The soft dip of the mattress against the small of your back sent a jolt of awareness through you, but you didn’t stop him, not when he was on the bed hovering over you, his lips trailing down, brushing lightly against your jawline, to the curve of your neck, nipping at the soft skin. 

The thin fabric of your white silk cover-up had been tossed away in one swift motion. Not that you had much clothing left underneath, you had the beach to thank for that, feather-thin yet still an insurmountable barrier separating you from him.

His fingers carefully pull down the strap of your bikini, slipping away inch by inch. 

But then he hesitates. 

His breathing hitched as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, guilt flickering across his face. “Sorry,” he whispered, starting to shift away, his apology tumbling out in fragments, but you caught him before he could retreat any further.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm, pulling him closer, your hands clinging to his button-down shirt as you brought him back to you. “It’s okay.’ 

It was the first time you saw them so closely—eyes the shade of teal sapphires, a treasure just as rare as the man who bore them. Guilt in his gaze was evident, but so was the yearning, emotions he couldn’t bring himself to voice. He hovered over you, his weight supported by his arms on either side of you, his expression conflicted.

You'd been the one who pulled him back, lips pressing against his, as he kissed back with a new intensity.

Sae’s fingertips gently went back to undressing you, this time he didn't falter, quickly pulling your straps down, your breasts bouncing as it came free from its confines. He gropes your breast, fingers pulling at your nipple, caring not to neglect the other and presses open mouthed kisses till he feels the hardened bud against his lips. 

You desperately cling to him, one hand tangled in his hair, pulling and tugging wildly at his reddish auburn locks. Your teeth sinking on your lower lip, a futile attempt to stifle the moans threatening to escape you right this second, but a needy whimper slips out as Sae sucks one pert nipple. 

Another hand slowly and steadily pushes the flimsy fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your glistening folds. tracing your slit with the pad of his thumb, and slides two fingers into your entrance and pushes it in. 

You’re tight, it was unreal. Clenching and throbbing against the fingers he gradually pumps inside you.

He takes your hand gently, lifting it to give a quick kiss to your knuckles and lowers his face to your inner thighs, lips pressing against it, leaving behind a trail of dark purple marks. A reminder of his unadulterated desire etched on your soft flesh.

You were utterly helpless against the wave of sensations as he held your throbbing core close, devouring your slick folds. Head tossing back, and breath hitching as the intimacy of the moment left you feeling exposed yet cherished in a way that stole the very air from your lungs.

The bed beneath shifted with every movement. messy—wet, hungry, and filled with a raw urgency that lust ignites.

He just couldn’t get enough of you.

Sae pulls away to peel his shirt off, you peer up at him through half-lidded eyes. His hair is messy, courtesy of all your pulling and grabbing, the only source of light in the room coming from the soft glow of the moon.

He wants to do you just like this, appreciating the work of art that you are, eyes lingering on your flushed face, breaths coming in shallow, panting gasps.

You start pawing at your own panties, impatiently trying to yank the piece of clothing down mewling, “Nngh. Sae, need more of you”, voice trembling with such fervor from the depth of your need.

Who was he to deny you?

“Shh baby, I got you.” He stills your squirming, quickly discarding your underwear and his, throwing them aside, as if nothing more than an afterthought. 

He lets you rub his leaking cock with your soft palm. He's holding back subtle groans when he feels you stroke up and down the length of him. You felt him nudge your legs apart, aligning his cock with your entrance, pressing his forehead against yours, waiting for a nod, or a squeeze of his hand— anything that would tell him that he could move. 

The only response you could give was an impatient roll of your hips to meet his.

Your approval was all he needed to slowly ease into your dripping cunt.

"Don't ever say I don't care about you," he whispers softly between your ragged moans, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Because every second in this fucked up world," he murmurs, brushing his lips over your cheek, "my thoughts are plagued." His kiss lingers on your neck, his voice a tender, loving murmur as he gently nibbles your ear. "by you.” and fully sheaths himself into your tight heat.

You’re tossing your head back from the sting of the stretch. But he was quick to whisper sweet nothings in your ear and kiss you stupid to catch your soft gasp.

His words, sweet as lullaby, a stark contrast to the rough way your walls are stretching to accommodate the length of him. You were utterly speechless by his bold expression.

This same man that never spoke so much more than blunt statements, now telling you just how much you really mean to him.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you were desperately craving for him to be closer, as if he wasn’t already knocking on the gates of your cervix.

Your silent pleas didn’t come unnoticed, enticing him to lock one arm around your upper back, holding your thighs open as he began to rock into you. At this point he had his face buried on the crook of your neck, pushing his cock deeper and deeper into you, lost in the sweet euphoria of your tight, soaking core.

Your arms flew across his back, nails pressing into the firm muscle beneath your fingers. The look on your face made the corners of his mouth turn up. A rare smile that reached his eyes. You knew you looked just as intoxicated on this wave of pleasure as he did.

It felt perfect, heart pounding with so much adoration for the man you’re connected to at this very moment, making up for all the lost time.

“I missed you.” Sae whispers, each word laced with unguarded intensity that sends shivers down your spine. His voice is low, almost trembling, as if confessing a secret too precious to be spoken out loud. 

“You idiot,” you replied, a shaky laugh escaping through the tears streaming down your face. Your voice wavered, caught between the weight of your emotions and the flicker of relief his words brought, the ache in your chest softening ever so slightly.

You feel yourself nearing your climax, a cracked moan broke from your throat, skin tingling with electricity as your body succumbed to pure ecstasy. He felt your cum all over his length as he chased after his own release. With one final thrust, as your velvety walls clench around him, and teeth grazing his shoulder. Emptying himself completely inside you. A warm sensation flooding your insides.

You felt him gently pull out, the warm fluid slowly seeping out your used hole. 

You gently wiped the sweat from his forehead with the palm of your hand, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned down to kiss you softly, before collapsing beside you, his breath steadying as he nestled you closer.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

Sae never falls asleep before you, not even during those nights when you stayed in his room.

He always waited for you to drift off first.

But this time was different.

As you glanced over at him, you saw the lines of tension that usually creased his face had smoothed out. His features, typically stoic and guarded, now seemed calm—peaceful even.

It was a serenity you hadn’t seen before, as though the burden he always carried had, for a fleeting moment, been lifted.

The soft moonlight seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over his face and highlighting the faint rise and fall of his chest.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words slipping effortlessly from your lips, barely more than a breath in the stillness of the room. You knew he couldn’t hear you, he was fast asleep. 

You lay nuzzled against him, head resting on his arm wrapped securely around you. Your fingers grazed absentmindedly over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

It was a moment you didn’t want to end, your own weariness slowly pulling you under as his warmth enveloped you.

Despite the intensity of the love you had confessed to him earlier that night, he hadn’t offered you an explanation. No words, just this. But this was enough. For now.

A/N: If you've made it to this point, all I wanna say is; Thank You so much for taking the time to read this story <3

This is the most shocking fic I’ve ever written! Honestly so surprised by the outcome and the amount of time, I poured into it (was even more than my college essays). Though I barely had the time to edit it :<

17k words wow, I had so many instances in which I felt like I just wanted to drop this fic all together because it wasn’t connecting the way that I wanted it to, but every time I read the drafts, there’s this feeling like a silent sense of accomplishment waiting if I do finish it, and I’m glad I pushed through, because I’m proud of the result.

This was actually a challenge from a friend—play with the tropes of forced proximity (but not really) and friends to lovers with Itoshi Sae. I thought it was such an outrageous request, but then an idea struck when I was rewatching Alice in Borderland and binging Blue Lock. Out of nowhere, I thought: What if Sae were in this setting?

I hope I did justice to blending tropes, but either way, I really hope you all enjoyed reading it!

It was intentional on my part to leave readers feeling confused in this part—after all, if you were in that kind of situation and environment, and he treated you this way, you’d be confused too. 

Should I write Part 2? If I do decide to write a second part it will start from Sae’s POV to explain his side of the story.

PART 2