#defender strange x oc

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Share your newest OC and a few facts!

I'm excited to share about this OC, so thank you so much for the Ask @arrthurpendragon!

Contessa 'Tess' O'Neill

fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe/Doctor Strange

face claim: Liv Tyler

I originally created Tess as an RP character. Since then, she appeared in my fic, 'It's Not the Years Honey - It's the Mileage', a Doctor Strange one-shot. And I'm currently working on a Defender Strange one-shot where she'll make her second appearance.

mid-thirties, Bachelors Degree in Literature, published two minor poetry collections, worked as a freelance copy writer pre Blip

speaks fluent Italian, gift of her maternal grandmother who lived with her family

ended up in Kathmandu, Nepal, after months traveling Europe & Asia; her trip had been motivated by the death of her flight instructor husband on the day of Blip; taking such a trip had been on their bucket list

however, Tess had never planned to return to the United States

trigger warning below the cut...

trigger warning: attempted suicide stemming from depression; survived due to the timely intercession by a Nepalese street vendor who brought her to Kamar-Taj for medical treatment

during her recuperation, Tess found her spirit healed as well, witnessing the philosophy, tranquility, and unselfish purpose of the residents of Kamar-Taj

found her own new purpose as an initiate of the Mystic Arts, eventally becoming a Healer

[darkkitty1208]

Sooo. I wrote a thing for @crowleys-creations OC Reggie, who is an absolute sweetheart that I LOVE. I'm referring to both of them. They are wonderful people.

I can't explain to you how much I love Reggie. He is our little guy. I want to show him off.

Reggie is Stephen's partner in Crow's universe. She shared a scenario she thought of of them and I went 'I want to write it' and she consented. So here it is!!!

All dialogue and scenario is made by Crow. Narration and otherwise is my writing :D <3

If you want to know more about Reggie or Crow's strangesona, here is a post of intro sheets for their OCs! They are amazing.

Home

Summary: Reggie visits Stephen's chilhood home, meeting his mother for the first time.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Past Trauma, Domesticity, Idiots in Love, Fluff

Meeting Stephen's mother for the first time is a nerve-wracking experience.

Don't get him wrong, Reggie absolutely adores Stephen's mother. She seems like a lovely woman; and he feels a sense of respect for what he knows she and Stephen has gone through. Most of all, he's grateful of her to have brought Stephen to this world.

He's been keeping himself composed all day, trying to keep the jitters at bay. He's mostly concerned for Stephen, though--checking in with him constantly to see if he's alright, reassuring him with quiet smiles and small touches that he's here, he's always here, and that Stephen isn't alone. He knows what Stephen's gone through. Looking at his childhood home must put a toll on him emotionally.

The evening they spent together had been one of the loveliest times he's had in his life. Laughing at Stephen's childhood photos (there was a particular one where little Stephen was grinning teethily at the camera, a bandaid on his nose where Beverly explained he had gotten after he fell off a bike, and another where he was a teenager, tilting a cowboy hat in such an endearingly Stephen way that Reggie couldn't help but make fun of him for it), looking at Stephen's old room and his old things, visiting the childhood playground Stephen had played in. Everything in his house had a story. Every room, every corner, every doodle or sticker on the wall.

It ignites some sort of longing in him. He wishes he could tell the same stories, recall the same memories, laugh and joke about little stupid things he had done as a child. He couldn't come up with one.

Reggie wants this. He wants this domesticity, this warmth. He wants to feel how family is supposed to be like.

And it's here, as Beverly and him stand in the humble kitchen of their home, Stephen tending to some chores outside, that he feels a small spark of it. Like an old feeling, or a sense of nostalgia, even if he's never been here before. There is familiarity in the way Beverly passes him a plate, the sound of sizzling from the pan, the quiet chatter. He feels like he belongs here.

"Has Stephen met your parents yet?" Beverly asks in between flipping the steak on the pan. Reggie watches as the meat sizzles, turning an appetising brown. "Maybe we can have a big family dinner, all get to know each other." She smiles at that. It looks a little like Stephen's.

Reggie is a little taken aback by the question and the offer that follows. He tries not to let it show, but freezes involuntarily nonetheless. He quickly composes himself with a smile.

"Erm, no. My parents passed when I was young," he says simply. Beverly's eyes widen by a fraction.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she says, sounding guilty. "I didn't think-- Stephen didn't say--"

Reggie is quick to reassure. "No, no, it's fine, really, I don't mind," he says, waving it off gently. His smile turns small, genuine, and there's some sadness in it he couldn't help let slip. "I like talking about them. It keeps them alive."

Beverly gives him an unexplainably motherly smile at that. Reggie appreciates it.

She asks questions, then; what do you remember about them? What were they like? Reggie answers all of them happily, recalling what he can. There's something, though, deep in his chest. Pulling, tugging at his emotions. He buries it in favour of keeping their light conversation going.

-

Stephen's bed has soft covers on them. Reggie is sitting at the edge of it, observing, looking around. His room is small, bookshelves filled to the brim with various books, a simple studying desk at the corner. He has a night lamp that glows a gentle, warm, light, which Reggie smiles at knowing Stephen must've been scared of the dark as a child.

He sighs. He's waiting for Stephen now, getting ready for bed in the bathroom. He hears him brushing his teeth, hears the running water, hears the quiet humming. It's comforting. It feels like home.

The longing resurfaces again, then. It's been there in his chest the whole day. It's welling up inside him now, gripping his chest. He feels it seizing up his throat, feels a growing sting in his eyes. Blinking it away doesn't help, so he focuses on the lines of his hands instead, hoping it would distract him.

He doesn't hear the door click, or Stephen stepping out. He does notice when the bed dips as Stephen's weight settles beside him.

"Hey," Stephen says, looking concerned. Reggie can't help but admire his eyes. "You okay?"

Reggie smiles. It's a pained one, if he must admit. He hopes it doesn't look so.

"Yeah," he says, a little hoarse. He clears his throat. "Yeah, just erm."

Stephen waits as he arranges his words. Reggie feels grateful for that.

"Your mother mentioned having dinner with my parents," he explains, "And I just... remembered that I won't have this. The whole introducing the boyfriend, embarrassing childhood photos, funny stories."

The words feel difficult to get out. But he tries.

"I won't get to have that." That's where he chokes up. He can't help it. Not after keeping it in the entire day. He feels Stephen lay a comforting hand on his back, moving back and forth reassuringly. "Every time I think they've missed everything they could, something happens that makes me wish they could be there." He wipes a rebellious tear that slips down his cheek.

He's been trying to stay strong the entire day. He really has.

Stephen turns to embrace him, wrapping him securely with his arms. It makes him feel a little guilty, when he's meant to be here for Stephen. But he lets him hold Reggie. He lets him stroke his hair. He lets him whisper little nothings in his ear.

He lets his tears flow freely. His gates are down now. And this is Stephen, he doesn't need to hold back. He can be vulnerable. He can trust Stephen.

"When I was a kid I just missed them," he remembers, "then when I was older I realised they didn't get to teach me to ride a bike, or drive or see me graduate or get my first job, but then I figured it was over. They missed all the big milestones but then, I get a medal, then I get promoted, I get my garage up and running, I meet you--" He sobs. "And it just never stops. every big moment in my life is also one of the saddest moments and when your mother asked me about dinner it just brought it all up again, it's not her fault it's just..."

He's spiralling. He cries into Stephen's shoulder. He cries until his chest hurts. Stephen is holding him still, and it feels so, so good to be like this. To know that Stephen loves him. To know that somebody loves him, cares for him, is there for him.

"Shh," Stephen shushes him. "I know, it's okay," He kisses the top of his head, gentle and soft and loving. "I know it's not the same, but I think like that with my father sometimes," he says, "If he had been loving--what we could've had, or every time I have one of those moments, I remember that he isn't there and... that Donna doesn't get to have those."

Stephen holds him tighter. Reggie burrows further, smelling the bit of skin peeking out of Stephen's shirt's collar. It smells like soap and old books and tea and something so utterly Stephen.

God, they're such a mess. Reggie can't help but chuckle a little. Stephen hums back his own bit of laughter.

"We're utter messes, huh?"

"Heh, yeah," Stephen says, and the hand rubbing his back pauses. The weight feels warm, going through the fabric separating it from his skin. "But we're each other's messes."

Reggie's sure Stephen can feel the smile he makes on his skin.

"Always?" he asks.

"Always."

[dino-fart]

Happy New Years Eve!

First of all I want to thank everyone for your support on my work. In a short matter of time I am now at 900 followers, something I thought would never happen. I never thought I would have so many people interested in my work. 

I love you all and wish you an awesome new year! 

I’m still visiting family but I will be back at my house tomorrow evening. 

My goal this coming week is to get the following done:

Requests for Raffle Prize Winners

Namor x Reader:

Washed Up - Chapter 2

Uncharted Waters - Chapter 2

The Perfect Storm - Chapter 2

The Missing King - Chapter 1

Call to Action - Chapter 1

Mi Reina Mi Paal - Chapter 1

Stephen Strange x Reader:

Shriek or Die - Chapter 1

Stephen Strange x Female!OC:

In the Dragon’s Lair - Chapter 1

Sinister Strange x Reader:

My Scruffy Wizard Cat - Chapter 1

Heaven’s Light - Chapter 1

The Swan and The Spider - Chapter 1

Strange Supreme x Reader:

The Wendigo Forest - Chapter 1

The Dark Guardian - Chapter 1

Supreme Strange x Reader:

The Zealot - Chapter 1

The Hero’s Doctor - Chapter 1

Defender Strange x Reader:

A Helping Hand - Chapter 1

Multi Strange x Reader:

The Red Ribbon - Chapter 1

The Lovers - Chapter 1

Sherlock x Reader:

The Phantom of Wincrest Pines - Chapter 1

The Hunt - Chapter 1

Pedro Pascal x Reader:

The Fall of A Kingdom - Chapter 1

Mandalorian x Reader:

The Sith and The Mandalorian - Chapter 1

[strangedreamings]

First scene that comes to mind?

From 'You Can Count on Me' - Defender Stephen finally melting and kissing Emilia and having them both reveal their true feelings for one another. OH.MY.HEART.❣️💖😍

The Countess and her Defender series

Aww, thank you! I'm particularly proud of that scene.

[dreaminonao3]

Stephen x Emilia - switching roles of big & little spoon

Little Spoon (AO3)

Stephen had just enough energy left to use his sling-ring to return to the Sanctum Sanctorum before collapsing on the nearest horizontal surface, which was the sitting room settee. The latest battle to save Earth from an interdimensional threat had taken all of his strength and all he wanted was to be unconscious.

“Stephen?” His wife’s voice was almost enough to stir him. “Are you injured?” Emilia lightly touched his shoulder and he let out a small groan.

“Not injured, promise,” he muttered, the sound half-muffled from his face pressing against the cushion. “Just let me stay here until the next Ice Age.”

“You overtaxed yourself, again.” The disapproval in her voice was crystal clear. “I’ve told you countless times not to save the dimension alone.”

“I know,” he agreed quietly. “It couldn’t be helped, I swear.” Needing to see her properly was enough to motivate him to sit up.

As soon as he did, she sat beside him and assessed him, the pale blue mandala hovering in front of her hand staying the same brightness as she waved her hand over his body, only glowing brighter when she reached his head. “You have a severe tension headache,” she said as the mandala disappeared.

“That’s putting it mildly,” he muttered then he met her concerned eyes and he gave her a piteous expression. “Put me to bed, sweetheart?”

Emilia rolled her eyes fondly. “Let’s get you hydrated and fed first. Also, you could use a bath.”

Stephen chuckled tiredly. “Yeah, I stink, I know. I’ll take a shower while you make us something?”

“If you think you can stay on your feet long enough, sure.”

“We’ll find out.” He leaned to kiss her cheek then he slowly got to his feet, feeling every one of his forty-eight years and more besides, then he made his way to their chambers while she went to the kitchen.

One restorative shower later, Stephen went to the kitchen wearing nothing but his black-and-red silk robe, his long hair loose down his back as it dried. He found Emilia frying eggs on the stove and he wrapped his arms around her middle from behind.

She chuckled. “I take it you’re feeling better.”

“Much but I still need food and rest.”

“Of course. Go sit down and let me take care of you.”

“Always,” he murmured before kissing her neck and letting her go. He sat down at the kitchen table and noticed there was already a pot of tea made, so he helped himself to a cup. “I don’t know what I’d do without my live-in healer.”

“Suffer in, well, not exactly silence, but sarcastic complaints to Wong, from what he tells me,” she said, amused, as she brought over two plates of eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns.

Stephen chuckled as he started on his food. “What time is it, anyway? I haven’t even glanced at a clock.”

“Almost noon.”

“So, lunch for you, breakfast for me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Or the last. Did we have any plans for the day?”

“Wong wants to talk to you about the latest students but I told him it could wait till tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He ate ravenously while he listened to Emilia talk about research she was doing on new healing spells. Once again, he was awed that such an intelligent and caring woman chose to love him of all people.

When they were done eating, they went to their chambers. Stephen discarded his robe and climbed into bed nude, not out of the ordinary for him. He had to admit feeling some disappointment when Emilia changed into a pale green cotton nightgown before joining him.

She rolled her eyes fondly. “We’re not doing anything until you have your energy back, so don’t give me that pout, Stephen, even if you do have the lips for it.”

He chuckled before kissing her softly. “You know me well, sweetheart.” He was about to lay on his side facing her when she stopped him.

“I want to do something different – this time, you’re the little spoon.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Little spoon?”

“Yes – I want to hold you instead of you holding me. I think we both could use it.”

He had to admit the thought was appealing and he smiled at her. “Alright, Em. Far be it from me to go against my wife’s wishes.”

He laid down on his other side, his back to her. The mattress dipped as she laid down behind him then she wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed her body against his back. It was a different experience for him but it did feel good, like she would protect him from anything that would disturb his rest.

“I love you, Em,” he murmured.

“And I love you, Stephen,” she murmured against his neck. “Sleep well.”

He fell asleep to thoughts of her and how lucky he was.

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,051

CW: MDI 18+, toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, bullying, co-dependancy issues, not beta read.

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

Her mother sat across form her, staring awkwardly. She seemed as nervous as Aemma did. It was strange thing, her mother had once been her favourite person, other than Aemond that is. They had been so close, and now she stared at her, she couldn’t help but wonder what she had done wrong, how she had screwed up and ruined their relationship.

But sweet Aemma could only think of what Aemond had said, for her it was the most reasonable explanation, seeing as her mother had just left her, she had not argued much about her retuning to the red keep instead of Dragonstone. Perhaps she had felt betrayed, hurt that she perhaps defended Aemond before Luke. But why would she? Until today she had very little happy memories of her brothers. Whereas with Aemond, she had all of her happiest memories with him, and he had so swiftly pushed the negative ones from her mind, so swiftly she had started to think she had made it all up.

And now as her mother stared at her, with them both having no words to say to the other and using her brothers as shields so much so that she found she could enjoy her brother’s company.

“You know we used to be so jealous of you, you know” Luke had said absentmindedly, as they ate their lunch. Her mother had said nothing, only nervously pulling at her fingers, as if trying to figure something out.

“Really?” she asked, “I had always thought you hated me.”

“No!” Jace said abruptly, “no we didn’t, we envied you, you were always mother’s favourite. Its why we did all of those things, we wanted her to hate you and love us” he looked down ashamed, “we are sorry Aemma,” they had apologised repeatedly, begging for her forgiveness, and for the first time, she actually considered forgiving them entirely , perhaps forgiving them would give her mother a reason to talk to her, to acknowledge her.

“I know, and it is in the past now.” she said before she turned and looked to her mother, she took a deep breath before slowly trying to start a conversation with her, “I hear you are pregnant again.”

`Her mother nodded, a shy smile on her face “yes, dōna riña, I had mentioned it in one of the letters I sent you.”

Letters? That had confused her, and from the way her head shot up at the words, showing her mother just how much the word confused her “Letters? I never received any letters.” She shook her head, “the only one I received was the one sent last week, from Jace and Luke.”

“What are you talking about, dōna riña? I- “

Aemond entered then, cutting her mother off, she had thought it was almost as if he had sensed her distress, though in truth he had been listening on the other side of the door. 

The room filled with silence, and Luke shrunk in his seat. Aemma however shot up in hers. “Aemond? Have you come to join us?” She asked eagerly.

He smiled; happy she was eager for his company. “As much as I would…. enjoy it, I am not, dearest, I have come to escort you, to your last dress fitting” he nodded, smiling as she quickly stood.

“of course,” she spoke, before turning to look at her brothers and mother, “I- sorry to cut this short but I must go” she then turned to look at her mother directly, “perhaps you could come with me?” she asked nervously.

Her mother seemed shocked at the invitation but not unpleased, “oh course…I’d love too” to though she could sense some unease at the response, as if her mother wanted to carry on with their previous conversation, a conversation Aemma had quickly lost interest in.

She cared not about the letters, she had sent hers and received nothing in return, why should she trust that her mother did in facts send any when she hadn’t gotten a single one but had gotten Jace and Lukes.

Aemond scowled behind her at the invitation, before quickly correcting it to a smile “how delightful” he mused, offering his arm to Aemma, as her mother stood to join them.

The walk had been an awkward one, not that Aemma had seemed to notice, as she rambled on about nothing in particular, seemingly eager to find this time to win her mother over once more.

“I had mentioned in the last le- “

Aemond cut her off, “my sweet, I why don’t you tell your mother of your gown?” He had calmly suggested, though Rhaenyra had been quick to notice his interruption both times the topics of letters where mentioned, but she couldn’t say anything, as Aemma quickly explained in great detail how her dress looked and changes they had made to it.

But Rhaenyra was starting to see the hold the greens had on you. Her sweet Aemma had always been so easy to convince and persuade. Gods Rhaenyra thought, she should have stopped whatever had gone on between Aemma and Aemond in their youth the second it started. And yet Aemond was the one thing that had always brought her joy, and it seemed the same now. She hated it. Hated how she should have forced her to Dragonstone. Forced her away from Aemond, away from the green’s clutches.

 As it was transparent why her daughter did not see her hundreds of letters, letters of longing or love, comfort. And she in return received non either.

She had sat and thought on this during the whole fitting, eager for them to be alone so that she could once more talk to her Aemma. To convince her she had sent letters, had not forgotten about her, stopped loving her.

But she also had realised something, the bond she had with her ladies, with Heleana and…Alicent.

Her ladies seemed so close to her, a comfort even. Something Aemma had never had before, friendship, sisterhood. And now she had it, especially with the lady Cassandra. Her bond with her reminded her of the old bond she had had with Alicent, and it did seem it did for Alicent also.

So much so that Alicent seemed to have taken Rhaenyra’s place as her mother. She was so soft with you, and kind. She had been always in truth. Especially once your friendship with Aemond became apparent.

Rhaenyra couldn’t help but think she had truly missed so much, she had thought her daughter a prisoner, trapped, alone. And perhaps she had been, until Alicent wrote to her of her daughters need for ladies. But know, especially once her day gown was back on and Aemond entered once more, it seemed her sweet Aemma was happy. A happiness the greens had deprived her from having known or experienced with her daughter.

“Rhaenyra” she heard a voice say, a voice she realised was half-brother Aemond’s.

“Yes?” She saw Aemma being led to a corner with her ladies.

“Is there something on your mind” it seemed he was teasing her, and he was.

He had never liked his half-sister; in fact, he despised her. And now he knew she realised, realised the letters were never sent, and burnt upon arrival, he had her in the palm of his hand.

Aemma believed him, she trusted him, where she doubted her mother.

Rhaenyra scowled “you know exactly what’s on my mind, tell me the truth of it’.

He smirked, “hmmm, I do not know what you mean”.

“Yes, you do” she insisted, “my own daughter thinks I abandoned her, I know those are not her own thoughts”.

‘Oh, please, I only told her what she was already thinking” he smirked.

“That cannot be true” she seethed.

 “you’re not going to fix your relationship by arguing with me now are you?” he smiled, and Aemma called him over, “whether you like it or not she is to be my wife and to my Aemma, I will be here for her, and you…you will be swiftly heading back to Dragonstone, leaving her yet again” he quickly left before she could reply, not that she had much to think on as she knew everything Aemond had said was true.

After the dress fitting, Aemond had walked stayed in her rooms as her everyone else left, he seemed to smile at how she had nearly begged him to stay.

“Do you believe my mothers words?” she had asked once they had all left.

“no” he answered swiftly, moving to sit beside her, “she is simply covering herself”.

“But she seemed so nervous and egar to- “

“She has simply realised her error in ever letting you leave her side” he mused, grabbing her chin softly, “she only cares for your brothers my sweet- “

“but my brothers said that the only reason they ever… that they were only mean to me in envy because mother cared for me so much” she cut him off, moving her head, only for Aemond’s grip on her chin to tighten, “that now they wish to be closer to me, that hey regret trying to make mother hate me-“

“that’s because they one, sweet.” Aemond interrupted, moving his other hand to caress her cheek, “don’t you see? There only goal was torment you and make your mother see you as a burden so they would become her favourite instead! And after Driftmark… think Aemma you had desired to be with me no matter what, to the pint your mother left you with me to go with your brothers, there plan worked sweet.” He hummed, moving his hand and tucking her hair behind her ear, “and now they have come back here, realised they you had noticed their swift disregard of you, realised how you favour me still and have tried every effort to win you back over.”

She looked down, nodding her head, “I suppose you are right, but still… all I have wanted was to marry you, and be close with my mother and brothers, I have never wished for a divide, perhaps if I forgive them they will stay and we will grow as close as they talk about.

He gripped her again, roughly, “don’t be stupid, that’s there plan they wish to woo you and have you side with them!”

“What do you mean?” she asked, close to tears, not at Aemodsn grip but at confusion, she didn’t know what to think, only knew that she had always believed Aemond, and hated how she had seemingly angered him.

“Do you wish to be my strong lady once again, hmmm” he mused, and she flinched.

She had hated those three words, the words that still haunted her and the words she had learnt were true.

 “I- no I don’t” she shook her head.

“If you side with them, you betray me and you betray the farce your mother has raised you under.” He declared, standing up, “I shall see you at dinner” he walked out swiftly after, leaving her to think, and her dreams to stew.

Viserys and demanded the whole family attended dinner before the wedding, there wedding was to be held to unite the family, and yet even at this dinner the family showed clear divisions, greens on one side, blacks on the other.

Her grandparents and stepsisters had arrived a few hours before said dinner, though Daemon was still noticeably at yet to arrive. Not that Aemma minded, she minded, she didn’t know him and her only impressions of him were negative ones.

Aemma was sat with Aemond to her left and Jace to her right. Though she mostly kept to herself, with Aemond glaring at her mother, not that she noticed, and Jace talking to Baela, who sat beside him.

She seemed to be in her own head, her thoughts circling non-stop, her dreams playing on repeat, changing at every second, at every glare or snide remark.

But when the speeches started to come, they changed even more, the blood shed fading and dragons stopped dancing.

“I would like to toast to my sister” she heard Jace say, as he smiled down at her “we may not have been close in our youth but I non the less wish you all the best in your marriage”.

She smiled, moving to stand for herself before starting her own speech. She was never one for talking so publicly, even before her family. “I too would like to toast in kind, I hope that this marriage will open up the chance too untie us once more and allow for our family to no longer be divided by the black water” she spoke nervously, but made eye contact with her grandsire, Corlys who gave her an encouraging smile.

The table clapped, happy at her words, and her grandsire, Viserys, even more pleased.

The speeches stopped for a moment, the table content, and her mind even happier.

Then the pig was brought out, and Lukes laugh sounded from the other end of the table.

She felt Aemond flinch beside her, he went to stand, shaking of the hands she gripped him with. And ignoring her pleas.

“I would like to share a toast also, a toast to my future wife” she looked at him, dread filling her, memories swiftly changed by Aemond’s words flooding back to her, and her dreams returning in kind.

The flash of her body falling.

Her sons head rolling.

“I have long awaited to marry her, and now on the morrow she shall be my strong lady wife” She flinched, her brothers scowled. “I pray our union with be as strong and fruitful, as my bride wishes”.

He gave her a look; a warning and she knew that no matter what side she went with her dreams of blood and dancing dragons would become true.

The dinner had ended swiftly after that, her mother claiming the babe had tired her, and swiftly pushed her brothers out the door, in an attempt to prevent whatever Jace’s bawling fists were planning.

Aemond had escorted her back to her chambers, there walk quiet, but the second they stepped over her room’s threshold, he slammed the door behind him.

“You made a decision now hmm? You claimed your want for peace and yet it brought you the opposite, so tell me Aemma” he sneered “is that what you still desire hmm, or do you wish to finally see that the only peace you get shall be with me?

Flashes of silver and dancing. Not dragons but them, she smiled and danced, a hand holding her stomach.

“your right” she looked down, “I- I don’t know why it thought that perhaps we could all be united and happy, I was wrong , you were right.” she grabbed his hand, “please Aemond, don’t make me lady strong again, I swear I will only trust you from now on”

Aemond smiled, his words had one her mind once again, she was so tightly held in his grip that she would never escape him, not that she seemed to want to. For Aemond knew she knew the consequences of that. He didn’t know of her dreams but her knew she knew bloodshed would be inevitable.

“good” he smiled, caressing her cheek, “now gets some rest, on the morrow we shall be wed” he smiled, a true smile of happiness, and she seemed to return it in kind.

She had a dreamless sleep that night, and yet it wasn’t a peaceful sleep. She was awoken swiftly a dawn, much to her relief filling the room with chatter. Questions being asked left and right, joy on their faces for her wedding day. She was nervous, nervous of the wedding of what was to come.

She was swiftly washed and dressed, and as the wedding gown was put on her, nerves seemed to leave her body, and for the first time that morning she joined her ladies in there smiles and laughter.

Alicent and her mother soon came to get her, her grandmother accompanies them. They gave her good wishes, and her mother seemed to send her a look of Farwell, as she stepped into, her carriage, were she met her grandsire Corlys.

She smiled as she saw him, with him having visited her several times over the years, sometimes with Rhaneys or one of her new sisters also.

It was a weird feeling, begin close to man she now knew had no relation too, then her own mother.

“Dear Aemma” he greeted her with a smile.

“grandsire” she greeted him back, “are you to walk me down the aisle?”

He nodded, as sad look on his face, it should have been Laenor walking her, and d he had come to fill in his place “I am, dear”.

The rest of the short ride was sent in comfortable silence, the next words were ones of luck as they stepped out into the dragon pit.

The crowd was filled with lords and ladies throughout the realm. She knew few of the faces that greeted her and Corlys as they walked down the aisle, though she was happy to catch Cassandra’s eye as she walked down, she had sent her a reassuring smile, and the nerves of the presence of countless strangers started to leave her.

The ceremony was the same as most, the same vows spoken as always, expect unlike most ceremonies she had witnessed over the years, the words held some truth.

He brought her under his protection, something Aemond had repeatedly said was the reason he had spent so long ignoring her, to build the man that could protect them. And as he swapped her Veleryon cloak for the Targaryen one, she felt his protection and the loss of another. As if by, marrying him she had no say in what side she was on and no matter what she did, tragedy would follow. The security of whatever it was she felt in the few moments were her dreams turned to her dancing, to her smiles and laughter were gone.

But the smile Aemond had sent her, and how true his words were when he pledged his love to her made her forget it all, and hope for some happiness in the years to follow.

next part

Taglist

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[romanoffsbish]

Don’t Worry, I’ve Got You

GN!OC (Rio) x F!R

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | Natasha had planned to sweep you off your feet when she returned from her mission. But it seemed someone else had beat her to the punch… | WC: 5,144

Warning: Domestic Violence - Abusive OC | Mentions of Sexual Coercion | Petrified R | Violence - Blood - Gory OC Death | Happy Ending 😀

Smut: Somno (Consented)-Oral (R) | Tribbing | Overstimulation | Sweet/Soft | Mommy (N)

When Natasha exited the Quinjet she was in a state of disbelief to find Yelena stood there. It'd been a year since she'd been home, and it wasn't the compound she looked to, it was you. Not only was it strange that you were missing, but Yelena being there was truly worrisome.

The sisters loved each other endlessly, but they never wanted to seem vulnerable enough to the others by showing their concern outwardly. For you and Kate though, they'd always be there, and in turn the two of you'd always show too.

"Where's Y/N?" Natasha couldn't hide the fear in her voice, but her face remained neutral.

——

Yelena cringed at the mention of you, it didn't take a rocket science to know what happened.

The blonde wanted to help you the first time she saw you with a busted lip, and a bloodshot eye that wasn't simply from crying. Then you flashed her a nervous smile, and she knew that she would only make it worse. You were oddly attached to this asshole—she understood.

Not to say she didn't help in her own ways, she was fond of you, not the same way as her sister, but enough to want to protect you. There was a very specific reason Rio was sent on an influx of lengthy missions this year by his CO, Yelena, (and it wasn't the hopeful rank bumping).

As a former widow she knew that being under another's control is something you become conditioned to respect over time. Sometimes you're even to the point of defending your abuser, for her they doubled as her captors, she reasons it's the same for you in this case, but regardless the reaction all worked the same.

You wouldn't leave unless you felt safe, and you wouldn't feel that way until Natasha returned.

Which is why Yelena is here now. "Natasha, we need to talk yesterday, fuck the reports." The blonde knew the walls had eyes and ears so she pulled her confused sister off to her bike, then drove her fifty miles out to a quaint diner just far enough from the city that Natasha wouldn't sprint back to immediately avenge you.

It was the right thing to do, she didn't want you to see just how scary Natasha could be. The last thing you needed was to be startled into seeing any part of them inside of your Natasha.

"I'm going to kill them!" Yelena smirked over her stolen coffee mug as they'd moved to the dead fields just to the left of the rest top. The circumstances weren't amusing, but seeing that her sister shared her sentiments elated her.

"This is funny to you?" Natasha questioned, her fist shot out at the blonde with the quick reflexes, landing in her open hand. "Why didn't you help her Yelena? Sh-she was my..."

"Lyubov'," Yelena quietly finished for her, she dropped her fist and wrapped her arms around her trembling body. "I never got to tell her what it meant, she always asked, but just as I was about to tell her I had to go. I never..."

"No!" Yelena reprimanded her, "You are not to blame here Natalia. Neither am I. If I helped her alone it would have been worse. Doveryat'."

(Trust)

Natasha nodded, and for a few minutes they stood there, Yelena thinking over what weapon she will use on Rio, and Natasha mourning through sobs the loss of your perfect start.

Everything in both of your lives had been deeply rooted in pain, and now this would be too. Natasha dreamed of more, she wanted the silly first date where she fumbled over her words, that came with the reward of a kiss.

She wanted to enter into a relationship with that period where you dressed up for each other to go out on the town that slowly faded into lazy nights in wearing matching pajamas.

Natasha adored you wholly, and wanted to make every little thing as special as she could. Up until she left she had already been doing so, but still she feels like she failed you. Maybe if she had just staked her claim more outwardly then Rio would've never taken you as theirs.

They would have never been able to hurt you...

Deep down she knew all was not lost, and she could make it right with you. Natasha also knew Yelena was right, it wasn't her fault, but that didn't mean she didn't carry the burden.

All she ever wanted was to keep you safe, and this failed instance will forever haunt her.

"Go pay the bill, I need to make a call." Natasha handed over her card, and as Yelena walked away she dialed in a favor, "Afternoon Hill."

With an urgent need for reaching you the redhead had swiped her sister's keys, and drove them back with a practiced elegance in her every illegal swerve. Yelena grumbled about the likely wear and tear, but there was no genuine anger with her concern, and the redhead couldn't hear her over the racing of her nervous heart, or the harsh wind anyways.

Every second counted, she couldn't risk letting Rio do anything further to you, and she worried that her return might've sparked something in the devious agents voided chest.

"Meet me at the underground cells in an hour," she coldly said to her sister as she tossed her the keys to her bike before she sprinted off. The rooms were spinning when she ran through the compound doors, and it continued to do so until she finally managed to spot you.

You were sitting with your back to the entrance of the communal kitchen, your frame hunched over and your body was lightly shaking. It was clear as day to her that you were sobbing, even if you tried to muffle the sound with your hand.

Natasha wasted no time approaching you, and in her hurry she failed to announce herself. It broke her heart when you jumped away from her touch and skidded across the kitchen.

"I-I'm sorry, I promise I will never mention her again, but please don't —," you cut your shaky pleas off the moment you looked up to see it was a frowning Natasha and not a seething Rio.

Natasha saw the exhaustion in your cloudy eyes, and the rest was painted on your face. Your worry lines were more prominent from when she last saw you, and you looked small. You were once a strong, well built agent at the top of her game, with a ranking higher than her own, but now you looked like a weak prisoner.

There was a scabbed over gash of sorts on the apple of your right cheek, and scratches and bruises all over your upper arms that you tried to conceal with your sleeves but she saw them. The eyes of a spy were a curse just as much as they were a skill to the woman. Because seeing your skin marred broke down her resolve.

"D-don't cry Natty," you yourself said over a sniffle, she smiled sadly as she approached to give you the comfort you were trying to offer.

You whimpered as her strong arms wrapped around your tense shoulders, but your entire body couldn't help but to relax as you smelled the familiar floral scents of her cologne. It was like the world returned to normal for just a moment. All you needed was her touch and suddenly the tears were flowing unendingly.

"It's okay moya lyubov'," she coo'd, and you whimpered once more hearing the familiar words that always brought you comfort. You held onto her shirt beneath her leather jacket for dear life, and she gently swayed your form as you freely sobbed. "You're safe now."

Natasha grinned over your shoulder as her eyes met those of your sleazy partners. Rio's fists were clenched as they stood outside the room, their gaze held contempt as they scowled. They hadn't a chance to interrupt your moment as Maria stopped them in their tracks, and swept them away—if only they'd known of their fate...

"I am here," she whispered, "They are not."

It didn't matter that you knew what her words meant, the meaning was clear; Rio was gone, and you were nothing short of relieved.

Natasha watched as you removed the ring on your finger and dropped it onto the counter in a hurry as if touching the metal harmed you. It was self motivated, but it still left her hopeful to see you denounce them before her own eyes.

The redhead wordlessly pulled you out of the kitchen and you ignored the smell of Rio's musty cologne as Natasha took you straight to her bedroom, a place where you always found yourself sneaking off to when they were out.

While you sat on her bed silently pondering the fact that you were free from this last years terror she ran you a soothing bubble bath. It helped to ease the remaining tension in your body, the warmth of the lavender water helped to soothe the marks atop of your battered body.

Natasha did her best to respect your privacy, giving you her room as she stood outside of the door until you came to collect her. The redhead beamed as you cracked the door and beckoned her inside, seeing you wearing her clothes filled her with a sense of pride, it made her want to remember the way you looked in this moment.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" You smiled softly, and silently nodded towards the bed, she nodded her understanding and laid down with her arms wide open for you to crawl into like you'd always done in the before times.

"I missed you," you croaked, and she pressed her chapped lips against your temple, leaving a firm kiss against the skin and for a moment the persistent ache in your head from the earlier scuffle with your spouse seemed to fade away under the soft affection of your desired lover.

"I missed you too Y/N/N," she sighed, her arms gently tightened around you in emphasis. "Every day I found it harder and harder to stay away. I'm so sorry I was gone for so long, and.."

You shook your head and kissed the side of her neck as your lips were rested there. "Don't."

The redhead sighed, and relented on pushing you beyond your limits. Even if she felt sorry, she still should keep that to herself. It's unfair to ask of your forgiveness, when you were the one who had to endure the cruelty of another. All she was meant to do now was hold you close, and never let this ever happen again.

Once you'd slipped into a state of unconscious that had you snoring the redhead cautiously shimmied out from beneath you. She hated taking the comfort of her embrace away from you, but she had somewhere to be in ten. So with a final kiss to your cheek she left the room, securely locking her door as she did.

"Sestra, welcome to the party!!!" Yelena greeted her sister, "You are just in time."

Natasha took the brass knuckles from her sister's extended hand with a smirk, but before using them she decided to punch Rio square in the nose with nothing but her bare hand. A reminder to the crooked agent that she didn't need anything more to harm them efficiently.

Blood gushed from the asshole's nose and the sisters rejoiced when the pitiful excuse for an agent began to cry. "Seriously? Already crying? What a joke." Natasha snorted at her little sisters taunting, then she turned her malicious attention back to your sobbing ex. "Too bad you're not the funny kind. Just the pathetic."

Rio knew better than to plead for their life. Maria escorted them here and handcuffed them to a chair. Yelena menacingly stood watch over them before Natasha entered. It was clear to the criminal of the hour that their fate was sealed the moment they took your hand in theirs and abused your loving nature.

"Snyat' s nikh naruchniki," Natasha dryly said as she slid the brass knuckles over her fingers.

(Uncuff them)

Yelena obliged her sister, and with unnecessary but warranted strength she shoved them from the chair. "Wh-what's happening? Can I go?"

Natasha chuckled darkly, "Oh please, you are simply being granted a chance to try and throw one of your little punches at me. Show me the inexcusable power you used against her."

Rio smirked, then lunged at the redhead with a confidence they were sure to lose in seconds. Natasha cackled as they punched her nose just as she did theirs with literally no damage done.

"God damnit you're fucking weak!" She cackled as they stumbled back in shock, looking at their fist in confusion as if it betrayed them. "You're going to regret ever laying a hand on her!!"

A taunting smile adorned their face as they challenged Natasha with a tilt of their head. If they were going to die anyways, they decided it would be best to torment her back. "Not only did I smack her around, but I gave her my —."

Natasha socked them in the jaw, cutting their disgusting words off at the source. Only cries of pain left them as the bronze over her knuckles had effectively broken their jaw into sections. Blood mixed with their drool and dripped down their chin along with a chunk of their tongue, and that made Natasha smile wickedly.

Yelena watched with a glint in her eyes as her sister tossed the buff excuse for a human being around as if they were a weightless rag doll.

"Pozvol' mne povernut'!" Yelena eventually whined, and Natasha scoffed, "Imet' eto."

(Let me have a turn / Have at it)

While the blonde tormented Rio with her sharpened knife Natasha chose to discard her weapon and stared at the blood on her hands. Observing as it dripped onto the cold cement of the cell floor, staining it red; her ledger gushed. 

"Natalia!" Natasha shook her head free of the distraction of her dark, self destructive thoughts, and looked up to see a bloodied Rio on their knees, body swaying as they fought to keep their loose grip on consciousness. It was time to deliver the final metaphorical blow.

"Y/N's mine," Natasha growled while holding their disfigured jaw in her hands, her nails dug into their raw skin and they hardly winced as the life force left within them was dwindling. "She was never going to be yours, because she loved me, and she was far too good for you."

"Fut yuh," they spat incoherently, and Natasha grimaced as their blood spluttered onto her face. "I'd bless you, but we both know you're not going to make it to heaven," she teased, smile mocking as her hand lowered to wrap around their neck. Her stony glare of the black widow was the last thing the abuser saw before their lights officially went out. Yelena looked at her, and Natasha smiled weakly at her sister.

"Ready for cleanup," she muttered tiredly into the speaker of her phone, then left the room as fast as she could. The weight of the situation had finally gotten to her, the realization that she could have lost you to that weak fool had her crying the whole way back to her room.

She heard shuffling, so she stood with her head pressed against her door until her breathing regulated, and the tears had come to a stop. Only then did she enter her room, and headed straight for the bathroom to take a shower.

You were flat on your back now, your midriff exposed as the shirt you wore rose up and the plush blanket she left was kicked off the bed. Natasha admired you fondly as she walked out with her towel wrapped around her nude form.

When you finally awoke she was drying her hair in front of her body length mirror, she now wore a pair of biker shorts, and a sports bra. The sight of her flexed abs, and swell of her perfect breasts through the mirror made your mouth even dryer than the amazing sleep had.

The redhead turned around with a soft smirk on her lips, the teasing gesture was however overwhelmed by the distant look in her eyes. She watched guiltily as your eyes filled with recognition when you saw her purple hands.

"Natty?" The redhead sighed softly, "Don't." You nodded in understanding, and patted the bed besides you, and she stalled briefly as she walked into the closet to grab her shirt, as well as her favorite leather jacket for extra layers.

She didn't want to seem like a temptation, even if she only had to exist before your eyes to be.

You honestly couldn't restrain yourself, seeing the physical proof that she'd used her assassin skills to defend you turned you on. It was odd, the way that her violence didn't turn you off. It was perfectly understandable though, knowing that she loved you enough to chose to defend you was the most attractive characteristic.

You were down bad, and Natasha gulped as she saw the way your eyes bloomed with swirls of palpable lust. It took all of her not to pounce on the moment that presented itself to her, but she stood no real chance at abstaining here. In a matter of seconds you were straddling her lap and lifting her bruised knuckles to your lips.

"Y/N," she gasped, a subtle warning in the way her hand trembled in yours, but you cupped her cheeks and smiled warmly before saying: "I want to feel your love Nat, please show me."

Both of your hearts beat out of rhythm, but the jumbled thumps were however in sync. She surveyed your eyes for a brief moment, then she kissed you breathless as she lifted you both up off the mattress. Setting you down on shaky legs she smiled at the way your eyes took time fluttering back open. Her hands settled on the hem of your shirt, "May I?" You nodded, a bit emotional as she sought your permission out.

Natasha was incredibly gentle as she disrobed you, a muffled sob left you as you cherished the unfamiliarly soft touch. It had been such a long time since someone regarded your body this way. Every partner you'd been with since you moved into adulthood had been callous; rough around all your edges and cruel to your curves.

Your parents were just the same, the redhead had given you hope for a brighter future. Then she was gone, no longer present to keep that shadowed figure from exposing themselves.

Rio was never someone you regarded as a threat until the day when they introduced themselves, cocky grin on their face as they asked you out on the date you'd be at later.

It was never a question, it was a veiled prison sentence that you would fall into the trap of.

You were naive enough to believe it friendly, everyone knew you were unspoken for, but the whispers echoed that you were Natasha's girl.

Which you were wholeheartedly aligned with.

Rio disregarded the claim, showing you the empty finger that they shoved a ring onto a month into your assigned arrangement. It devastated you being with anyone that wasn't her, they never physically forced you down, but they used their venomous words to coerce you.

"Moya lyubov, are you sure?" You felt this wave of warmth tingle beneath your skin, and felt as her calloused thumb wiped away your tears. "We don't have to do this yet detka, or ever if-."

"Natasha no," you whimpered, nails dug into the nape of her neck as you feared being left sexually frustrated. You needed her more than you ever thought humanly possible, "Please."

Natasha's arm wrapped around your bare waist, she guided you back towards the bed and kissed your lips the entire time she spent cautiously lowering you onto the mattress. It was like she was in a trance as she took her time kissing away the pain of your scars.

It was her intention to make this moment one full of love, her lips gently kissed over the skin of your stomach and she felt the way your entire body tensed in anticipation. Yet she didn't take the bait, she instead continued to lick the salty sweat from every bit of exposed skin she could, and her kisses continued to drop all over, like into the crook of your knees and elbows, and the apex of your thighs.

You whimpered in need for nearly an hour, but she never heard you as she was determined to feel every last bit of your skin beneath her now numbed lips. Soft snores finally pulled her from her trance, she gazed up at you, her lips stalled on the skin beneath your belly button.

She grinned against your pelvis as she caught a whiff of your abundance, her eyes closed as she felt her mouth salivate in an instant. Her body shuffled until she could eye your cunt, it oozed like a waterfall and seeped into the grey sheets.

With the tip of her nose she nudged your lips apart, then slid up to bump at your clit as her tongue followed the trail with a firm lick. Natasha groaned against your sensitive nub as she truly tasted you for the first time. Her face was absolutely coated in arousal in seconds as she ate your pussy like it was her last meal.

If she goes down for her crimes today she would actually request you as her final meal.

Muffled whimpers left through the part in your lips instantaneously, your hips shifted, then all of a sudden your upper torso arched off the bed and you moaned yourself into consciousness.

You were enthusiastic as your hand wove into her hair and you loudly vocalized her praise: "O-oh my god, don't stop—fuck, never stop!"

Natasha purred against your pulsating clit, a clear indication that she shared your thoughts. Dangerously so honestly, because she made you release on her swirling tongue alone four mind blowing times before she took a break.

While you grappled hazily with the functions of time and space the woman merely watched you in amusement. You were adorable as you came down from your repetitive sequence of highs, yawning obviously and smiling contentedly.

Moments later you finally stared down at the woman whose body was pressed into yours. Natasha smiled up at you lazily, with her slick cheek smushed into your thigh, you returned the gesture and her heart skipped a million beats. You took her breath away every time she saw you, but this time was different, it was even better than she dreamed. She finally had you in every sense of the word, before she left you were already hers in totality, but it was never the right time to take that leap together.

Or at least you'd both thought that you needed the time to be right, but now you knew to stake your claims and to never let each other go.

The redhead needed to be closer to you, so she left the oh so comforting heat radiating from between your thighs behind and began to kiss up the center of your body, a snail trail left in her lips wake with each sloppy press of them to your sweaty skin. She relished in the way you'd shiver as the breeze from the window solidified your essence and had your heated skin chilled.

She smirked once her lips pressed into your cheek as you tugged at her clothes and whined.

"What is it moya lyubov'?" She chuckled, then prohibited your response as she pecked away your pout. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip and you allowed her the moment of distraction. Savoring the taste of you on her tongue as she kissed you breathless, your body pushed back into a needy state as your arousal soaked into her shirt, and she was reminded of your prior whining as you had just tried to undress her.

Natasha shook her leather jacket off of her arm, keeping her body raised on the other like it took no strength at all. She never once broke the kiss, managing to suck your soul from you, she even kept her balance as she threw it off. For her remaining clothes she had to pull away, but you didn't feel her absence for long as she moved rather speedily, almost like a cheetah.

"What does it mean?" You shakily asked as she lowered her cunt atop of yours, a carnal groan then left you, "Fuck, Natasha you are so wet."

She hummed teasingly as she began to rub her aroused cunt against yours, her plump lips hovered your ear as she whispered her secret words: "My love." You felt the warmth of her sigh tickle the skin of your collarbones, and it spurred on a flurry of goosebumps across your body and burrowed deep into your heart. "I'm only ever wet because of you Y/N, every time you'd kiss my cheek goodnight I'd be drooling."

"Oh god," you moaned as her lewd confession was huskily spoken just as her clit brushed over yours, the stimulating touch caused Natasha's arms to nearly give out as she was overrun with pleasure, but her impressive strength won out.

"You've always been mine Y/N," she murmured the truth you both vehemently aligned with as she kept up a breathtaking pace with her hips, it wasn't rushed though which was new to you.

The painstakingly raw jut of her hips left you feeling dizzy, her teeth grazed across the skin of your jaw before her lips latched onto the bob of your throat as your body arched into hers.

It was made worse when she pulled away from your neck and hovered you once more, her lovesick gaze locked on your hazy one, and you were surely a goner as the words as sweet as honey left her saccharine lips: "I promise to cherish your body for a lifetime if you'll let me," her pace sped up just as fast as your heartbeat had, and your eyes brimmed with tears of pure joy as you came in sync with your soulmate.

Whispers of yes and please left your lips in between the moans of her name, and the world stopped when you hoarsely cried out mommy.

Natasha collapsed into you, her arms giving out as her warm arousal gushed from her already dripping cunt onto your thighs as she came again from she's sure your words alone.

"You did such a good job for mommy," she pecked your cheek then pressed her lips to yours and satisfied your needs to kiss her luscious lips as you basked in the aftershocks of your highs in a bubble of undeniable passion.

"Get some rest now detka," Natasha rolled off of you and pulled your limp body into hers. "You're safe with me Y/N, I promise you this."

"I know Natty," you mumbled over a yawn while burrowing your face in between her soft, rounded breasts. The redhead smiled and happily admired your relaxed face, she wore a proud grin as you drifted off, trusting her to keep you safe with the same hands she'd used to wring the neck of your spouse this evening.

You knew deep down that Natasha didn't let them go like you’d thought when she said they were not here. Apparently she was foreshadowing their looming demise. You didn't question her for a meaning when it came to the bruises on her hands, you just accepted it because she loved you enough to bloody her ledger. Though they surely deserved it, she still had to consciously take a life, and even though they were wretched, she still felt the loss.

Good or bad, her heart still cared too deeply.

The world was a safer place, you'd pointlessly reminded yourself of her humanity, as if she would ever lay a harsh hand on you. She who hummed softly, and ran a gentle hand up and down your back even after you'd slipped off into a middle ground. Your mind was still aware but your body was slumped into hers, but you heard her whisper clear as day as her lips faintly kissed your hairline. "I love you Y/N Romanoff, I promise I'll put a ring on your finger soon, I just have to unpack the little box from my suitcase and threaten a judge is all."

You involuntarily giggled softly and her hands teasingly tickled at yours sides, "You sneaky minx," you could hear the smirk in her voice, and you knew then she'd known all along that you were still conscious on some plane. "So, tell me Y/N, will you be my runaway bride?"

"It depends," you yawned out exaggeratedly, "Where will we be running off to Natty-kins?"

"Wherever you want sweet girl, I can make a home anywhere in the world if you're there."

"So romantic," you giggled, your lips brushed over her racing pulse and you left a tender kiss there to try and calm her, but it only made it beat out of sync as it sped up then slowed back down. "Of course I will marry you, just as soon as I can get this crock of fibbery annulled."

"Fibbery?" Natasha chuckled and you whined a little too honestly, "Don't make fun of me, I'm tired, and have a lingering minor concussion."

The redheads breath stalled, her body tensed but you tiredly lifted your head and kissed her chin before you whispered, "It's okay, I'm safe now in my favorite persons arms. Like you said, nothing can hurt me if you're around."

"Damn straight," she said as her grip on you tightened, and you sighed. Natasha's hold was expectantly possessive, which briefly felt too familiar to another's, but the way Natasha kissed the skin beneath your hairline, and continued her prior humming soothed you.

This wasn't the start she dreamed of, but she also couldn't prevent the smile that adorned her sleepy face as you nuzzled even further into her embrace, your clear trust in her meant the world to her and even eased some of her guilt.

You both knew it would be a long while before you were truly yourself again, and you knew from experience that her patience would never waver, and that alone would be enough. One thing was rather clear as you slipped off to sleep—you were safe, and loved just as you'd always deserved to be in your home's arms.

——

[oliviablancmom]

Enemies - Pablo Gavi

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Oc!character

Summary: When they got attached in the hate for each other

A/N: My Gavi girls, it's finally here. Sorry for making you wait. I didn't intend to post so soon, but the story of these two is speaking to m, or rather, screaming. To everyone who followed 'Pedriiii', I hope you're here with me as well. I hope you like these two as much as I do." Ps: I actually considered giving the title "Pablito" to this one, to follow along with Pedriiii lol

Before

In his work environment, Gavi had to deal with many voices, sometimes encouraging, sometimes demanding, coming from all sides: his family, his friends, his team, his teammates, the fans, the haters. Everyone had something to say, an opinion. He believed that it was from these voices that his focus and instinctive leadership, came from, somehow an anchor that kept him focused. For Gavi, football was simple: it was about entering the field and getting the best result, no matter what or who.

On the field, he had only one goal: to help his team win. He had to stand out; he had to be bigger than the voices; he had to have control over the situation. Whether demanding more seriousness and effort from his teammates during training or more concentration and grit during matches, he was relentless. When he defended his team with the greatest ferocity in the world, opponents knew he didn't mess around when it came to Barcelona. He would bleed for the team, and if necessary, make the opponent bleed too. Many said his intensity on the field was unnecessary, childish, and merely a lack of control. But again, they were just voices. Gavi would rise above them too. Well, at least he would try, and most of the time he succeeded. He didn't care when they called him childish, didn't care about the players who had more years in their career or were more famous than him, didn't care about the actions and success of their biggest rival. They were not Barcelona. At the end of the day, they were just voices, and he stood up to them. It had always been that way, and it always would be. Well, at least it should be.

Gavi couldn't remember when he started to notice it, when that voice began to stand out from the others and especially have an impact on him. Well, actually it didn’t, he thought. But he had to admit, that voice was indeed, little by little, breaking through the great wall he had built around himself, and it was annoying. Who did she think she was? And it wasn’t the voice of his conscience, which even that he could control; it was the hoarse and shrill voice from shouting, involved in a false sweetness, cursing and belittling him, doubting him, laughing at him. Gavi looked around, staring at the crowd dressed in white, trying to find where that voice was coming from, but it was hard to tell.

The people in the stands looked at him strangely, increasing the intensity of their insults. Gavi shook his head and turned his attention back to the game. He decided to switch his position and wouldn't go near where the voice was coming from, distracting him.

The match had ended in a defeat for Barcelona. Gavi had gone to complain to the fourth official about his yellow card; it was unfair, especially since the Madrid player didn't receive a yellow card for a similar play. As he approached the tunnel, the voices grew louder, and he could hear the insults more clearly. Then, like a snap, that little voice stood out again.

"It's no use crying now. If you’re incompetent on the field, it’s not the referees’ fault." Gavi felt his blood boil. He stopped in his tracks, looking for who was responsible, and there in the corner of the tunnel, almost hidden by a sponsor's banner. A mocking smile on her face, a look of superiority that the Madrid fans always had.

"Aw, how cute, a fan. What do you want? A photo, an autograph..." Gavi's voice dripped with sarcasm. The girl made a face. "Come on, sweetheart, I don't have all day, and I can see you're craving my attention."

"In your dreams," she replied angrily.

"Looks like it's in yours," Gavi retorted, taking a step towards the girl.

She didn't seem intimidated at all, which was strange. Usually, when he assumed his ego-filled player persona, it had an effect. But the girl seemed indifferent to his aura at that moment.

"Believe whatever makes you feel better. You and your terrible team need a dose of delusion."

Before he could respond, he was pulled away by his teammate. Gavi looked over his shoulder, seeing the girl smile triumphantly at him. Seeing her smile like that made his mind automatically associate it with all the times he had heard the insults, coming from a faceless voice, a blur in his memory. Resonating in his mind as a reminder to strive harder, to play with more hunger, to attack more. Gavi felt a flicker of confusion and annoyance. Why did this voice affect him more than the others?

He didn't want to admit the impact that situation was having on him. However, he knew, he felt deep down in his core, that the voice, now with a face, would continue to follow him, and it would be easier to identify where it came from. Gavi considered forgetting the matter—it was just an fervent opposing fan. He was truly determined to ignore it, after all, he might never see her again. But it was already ingrained in his mind, he shook his head, trying to dismiss the encounter. Yet, deep down, he knew the girl's face and voice would haunt him, pushing him to prove her wrong.

********************************************

A/N: I told you that we were definitely heading into the enemy's path... and you can't even imagine. I hope you enjoyed this brief introduction, and I can't wait for you to meet our sweetheart.

[mamirhodessxox]

His Strange Addiction

(Bonus Chapter)

Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Reader (Milena Reyz)

Desc: It’s been an official year since Milena & Cody got married & had a child & now 2024 has hit, Cody is doing many promos for wrestle mania but it ends up with Milena coming to his defense when The Rock takes things to far.

Contents: Violence, mentions of blood, Trash talking, arguing, comedic relief sort of, fluff, angst????

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

“Cody you shouldn’t be challenging someone like Dwayne.” Milena spoke as the married couple paced around the bedroom packing before going into Chicago for Monday night raw, “Sweetheart it’s fine I-“ “You trained for this type of stuff yes but Dwayne is 10x bigger than you, he’s already pissed you off by bringing family into this and you know if he actually hurts you in some sort of way I’ll run my mouth and challenge him myself.” Cody chuckled to himself while he watched their daughter Ivey roll onto her tummy while petting Pharaohs head “That’s not necessary love.” “If he pisses me off can I act out?” Cody sighed looking at her “1 time.” She giggled smiling before kissing his cheek & going off downstairs.

“Your moms a reallll fire cracker.” He grinned as Ivey just smiled & cooed at him. Cody picked her up carefully and let out a joking huff before she giggled and tugged on his hair “alright gentle there, you’ll make daddy bald.” He tickled her cheek before going on with the day taking care of his adult chores alongside Milena.

Weeks passed since that day and it was finally Monday Night Raw 03/25/24. Milena sat in the bus with their daughter & her mother Jasmine. They all watched the event from the tv attached to the bus but just as Cody was in the middle of his promo Dwayne had stolen the moment & having a staring contest with Cody before whispering something to him. Milena raised a brow & rolled her eyes as she continued watching the TV until it was time to tuck in Ivey for bed while Milena suddenly started turning back to the TV noticing a backstage segment of her son in law getting into a scuffle before Dwayne once again appeared but full blown attacking Cody

“Look at you now Huh?! You thought the rock was gonna let you talk trash for the last two weeks!? HUH?” Jasmine held a hand over her mouth “Oh my god?!” Jasmine gasped making Milena walk out on time and see her husband being tossed around on television “You’re kidding me..” Milena held Ivey close & tried covering her daughter’s eyes but she was to squirmy while Milena saw Dwayne stand outside of their exact bus yelling about chicago and tossed cody around

Dwayne kicked her husband around in the rock “You wanna be a hero? How about this! You son of a bitch the rocks got your hero.” And quickly heard a loud thud against the vehicle “and mama rhodes. Look at your son the rock has a special gift for you.” He smeared Cody’s blood around a belt with his mothers name against the leather & kept taunting Cody on camera. Milena was finally fed up & instructed her mom to stay in the bus handing Ivey over to her grandmother while Milena went to Cody’s aid.

“Milena absolutely no-“ Jasmine watched as her daughter picked up an extension cord “Milena that could kill him!!” Milena glared “I’m not gonna kill him mom I’m just gonna make him back off!” Milena spole as she kicked open the door causing Dwayne to perk up a bit “You need a woman to defend you? Huh?” He mumbled towards Cody for a moment while backing up a little bit while Milena approached him clearly furious “Who in the absolute FUCK do you think you are?! You keep his goddamn family out of his mouth goddamnit & your not about to smash my husband against a goddamn bus where his DAUGHTER is inside of it!” She shouted while Dwayne held out his hands grinning.

“Sweetheart you’re to pretty to be dealing with this alright? Leave it to the men.” Milena tilted sn eyebrow while noticing a cameraman still rolling. “You wanna embarrass my fucking man on camera and talk to me like that? You must not know who the hell I am. So let me show you.” Just as Dwayne was going to speak she punched him square in the jaw and kicked him in the crotch before shoving herself behind him and untied the extension cord from her wrist before yanking it against his throat and wrapping the parts she was holding against her knuckles while mocking him with his own words “Look at you now! Look at you rock! You’re getting your ass beat by a woman, Cody Rhodes wife at that. Embarrassed aren’t you?”

Cody groaned against the bus and didn’t bother stopping Milena, She finally tugged the cord away from Dwayne & eventually kicked the man on the ground & dug her boot against his head “We’ll see you Friday Dwayne.” She kicked him in the face before snatching the camera away from the cameraman and held it over Dwayne’s bloody face while he coughed “This is your guys’ Final boss? Cody was right about him being a whiney little bitch, look at him, all bark and got his ass beat by a woman. How embarrassing.” She shoved the camera back to the man before snickering and walked back towards Cody & Helping him up and frowning at the sight “Jesus Cody…” he shook his head holding the side of his chest while she took him inside of the bus & her mother help clean off any blood.

“Your gonna beat his ass at mania am I understood?” Cody chuckled in amusement while his wife pressed a bandaid against his cuts & scrapes while he nodded weakly “sweetheart..” “I don’t care what we need to do but whether you like it or not you’re going to beat his ass.” He smiled tiredly and held Milena’s face “Copy that.” Milena’s mother sighed & gave him water after coming back from tucking Ivey into bed “You have to prove him wrong now Cody.” She spoke before Cody nodded & eventually called it a night.

Friday Night rolled around and everyone took notice to many things within the Rhodes family. Milena tweeted something about how Dwayne should get better security while Dustin insulted the man. Cody has been absolutely silent on social media, Milena had been planning a slight comeback since the last time fans saw her within WWE was before she was pregnant with Ivey and she was planning something VERY special for smackdown. Tonight Dwayne was doing a promo & stood in the ring “Cody’s entire family are a bunch of sorry ass clown emoji’s including his loud tacky wife & goofy ass dog. I’m sure you all saw raw right?? I beat that boys ass and he actually needed a woman to fight for hi-“ “And what about it Rock?” Cody’s voice soured through the arena as he walked towards the ring “You know what’s embarrassing? How you need to catch people in vulnerable moments when they aren’t paying attention so you can catch them off guard just to win a game nobody is playing.”

Dwayne glared & looked at the audience as he noticed Milena following her husband into the ring before spinning in a circle showing offer her business meeting like dress & black pumps while smiling brightly as her husband wrapped his arm around her waist while she snatched the mic away from Dwayne “You saying all of thiisss is tacky? Let me tell you what’s tacky. Your cousin Nia barely getting any sort of physical touch so she feels the need to shake her rank, vile, smelly ass In people’s faces THAT’S tacky & unclassy, but what’s REALLY tacky i-“

“Mrs Rhodes with alll the respect Why don’t you go sit somewhere and look pr-“ “First of all you address me as Ms. Reyz, Second of all you don’t talk over me, how about you stand right here shut the fuck up and let me speak. And as I was saying Dwayne, What’s really Tacky is how your forgotten about so you feel the urge to budge yourself into a wrestle mania event that isn’t even about you, your doing this whole thing so you can seem important when really You’re not. Your boring. Washed up & only good for corny ads & movies. Whats really tacky is how you want to seem soooo relevant within WWE that you’re willing to let Roman Reigns act like he’s the tribal chief when it should’ve been You. Your getting bitched out by some other irrelevant wannabe just so you could be relevant. And what’s tacky is you have the absolute nerve to go in live television embarrass my man & taunt his mother well let me tell you something Dwayne. Everything about you is Tacky, and the next time you talk about Cody’s family I’ll ruin your fucking life & make sure your role within TKO vanishes into thin air. Let me catch you beating on my fucking husband outside of a bus with my goddamn daughter in it. See what happens.”

She tossed the microphone at him & let Cody take over by Rock got in his face making Cody & Milena taunt him before pulling away as she started speaking again but off mic and slightly loud enough for the camera to pickup “What’s also tacky is how you talk so much on having Big Dwayne energy but you literally have an LDS struggle, you’re barely 5 inches yet have the audacity to walk up in here running your mouth like you have a big dick.” She snickered before fake frowning the more he glared while Cody spoke up “Trust me on this Dwayne. I’ll going to beat the living shit out of you & Roman all together.” He slammed the mic into the ground before leaving the ring before walking off to the backstage area,

Milena saw Jey & Seth laugh over something making her walk over towards them while Cody went to the dressing room to check up on Milena’s mom & Ivey “Where the fuck were you two when Cody needed help huh?!” Jey froze for a minute “woah wai-“ “You know how many times Cody has jumped the gun to save your asses from problems you’ve started but lack to solve every single time?” Jey awkwardly scratched his neck “Now I understand Seth because he has to be here for Becky & he has to watch out for Roux and I get that, Hell Cody just went to go check on Ivey, but you Jey?! I thought you always had his back.

“Okay woa- Mel I do have his back! I mean c’mon sis I’ll always defend him no matter what girl!.” She glared in his eyes shaking her head “So where were you on Monday when that entire ordeal was filmed on live television throughout the Arena? I know you saw it and you were here for raw so what the fuck?” Jey stood in silence while guilt wavered over his face “Goodnight Jey.” Milena spoke before walking bak to Cody’s dressing room & putting on a smile when she saw him tickling Ivey while she held his tie “look at you wrapping your dada up around your finger.” She cooed while kissing her daughter’s cheek “Where’d you go off to?” She shrugged “Just talking to jey.” Cody nodded with a smile before giving her a kiss until she pulled away humming.

“You’re gonna go out there at wrestle-mania, kick some fucking ass and win. I don’t care if you’re shady with it. But you’re going to win no matter what.”

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

[alocon]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [8] - Max Verstappen

written by alocon

Note: Name and Part One based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko.

Summary: Mini chapter. When the FIA tries to stop you driving at the next grand prix weekend, the drivers decide to take a drastic, but necessary, turn to stand up for you.

Before you read: Use of Y/N

fc: Blanca Soler

[Previous Part] [Masterlist]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be- - MV¹ x Fem!OC

“So, question for Y/N.”

You were currently sat in the interviews before the next race, in a press conference with you, Lance, Zhou, Logan and Nico. You had been expecting this question when it came but had not expected it only 3 minutes into the questions.

“We hear you're under investigation by the FIA, would you like to expand on that and what you are under investigation for?”

“Yes,” you sat up in your seat, more than happy to speak. “I have been put under investigation for creating a hostile work environment since 2019. Apparently, I have been acting hostile towards Christian Horner, despite the fact its more like the other way around.” You shrugged.

“Right.” The interviewer shrugged. “And how might this affect your driving?”

“Well, pending the results of the investigation, they may, as a punishment, revoke my super licence.”

“So let me get this straight,” Crofty said, speaking up. “You're at risk of losing your racing licence because of you allegedly being hostile to the Team Principal of Red Bull Racing since 2019?”

I nodded.

Lance then spoke up. “I think it's suspicious that these rumours suddenly came around just after a podcast episode about some of her treatment at Red Bull and a post of her and Geri together.” He said. “It seems very strangely timed.”

“Almost like they're trying to silence her for Christian's actions.”

The drivers in the conference all started defending you, putting a smile on your face. It was sweet to see them all so defensive over you, instantly jumping to your protection without even being asked their opinions.

“It had been oddly timed.” You said. “All of a sudden, after me putting in a complaint about Christian Horner to the FIA, I was the one under investigation. I think that it's ridiculous to be honest. I provided evidence - more than enough. And yet I am still the one under fire.”

“I hear a lot of drivers and other staff are supporting you.” Crofty said. “Do you have anything to say to that?”

“Yes. I am so grateful for the way that the drivers have treated me, and other staff, both at Mercedes and other teams. I appreciate that they have been defending me to the FIA, and taking a stand with me against the unfair treatment that I have been under by Red Bull and the FIA in the past couple of weeks, and Red Bull since I joined.”

“So are you still racing this weekend?”

“No. They've told me I'm not allowed to race until the investigation is over.” you explained, frustrated.

The rest of the press conference went well and, soon, you were back in your drivers room and soon heard the door open. You looked up, seeing the drivers slip into your room. All of them.

“We're here to take your mind off of all the bullshit going on. So. We have fifa, Uno, monopoly, Mario Kart, we got your switch so you can play animal crossing if you want,” Lando began to list off everything.

You chuckled, smiling sweetly at them at the kind kind actions of going out of their ways to try to cheer you up. So that's what happened. You all sat on the floor talking, playing games, chilling out and discussing how to sort this out when Charles came up with an idea.

“A strike.”

“A what?” You looked at the Monegasque, confused at the sudden outburst.

“We could go on strike. Refuse to race until Horner is gone and the investigation is dropped.”

There were some cheers from the drivers.

“Guys. What?” You said when you saw the agreements. “You don't have to do this.” you said.

“Let's vote then.” Charles said. “All in favour?” 19 hands went up. “All against?... Then it is decided.”

After some planning, it was in order.

El Plan (2025 Driver's Strike edition)

Step One: Pack our stuff.

You all got to work, packing out bags, everything we needed.

Step Two: Prepare the vehicles.

That went by quickly too.

Step Three: Tell Our Team Principals

You walked into the emergency meeting with George and Toto, sitting down.

“What's this about? What's going on?” He asked, confused.

“We're going on Strike,” George announced.

“You're doing what?”

“This wasn't my idea,” you started. “But one of the drivers suggested a full driver Strike. Because of the investigation.”

George started explaining the details. The plan. Afterwards, there was a moment of silence.

“Fair enough,” Toto said. “I wouldn't be able to stop you and to be honest, I don't even want to. I don't want you losing your seat, Y/N. Go wild. Have fun. Call me when you're off strike and keep me updated, yes?” He said. You and George looked at each other, surprised it went so well.

Over in the Red Bull office, it wasn't going as well.

“You're doing what?” Christian snapped, angrily.

“Going on strike.” Max leant back in his chair.

“Until the investigation is dropped, we will not race.”

“This is insane! What is wrong with you?” He snapped angrily. “You shouldn't do it if you want your contract renewed, Max.”

“I'm sure there are other teams who would happily take me,” He said standing up, walking straight out the door without another word, being quickly followed by his teammate.

Step Four: Announce the Strike.

“Right, hello,” Crofty said, looking at the camera. “So, we've got a sudden broadcast request from the drivers so… that's what is happening here.”

Bernie spoke up. “We have no idea what this is about. Take it away.”

Your designated speakers - Charles and Max - stepped up to take the mics.

Max got up his script. “Today, Charles suggested something and we did a vote, getting back unanimous agreement.”

“All of the drivers on the current Formula One grid will be going on strike. None of us will drive until our demands are met.” Charles paused before speaking again. “Demand Number One: The investigation on the Mercedes-AMG Petronas driver, Y/N L/N, is dropped. The treatment she has received from both Red Bull and the FIA recently, and since 2019, has been absolutely unacceptable. They are trying to silence her and stop her from racing, so if she can not race, we will not race.” He looked at Max, nodding for him to read the next demand.

Max smiled, looking at the camera. “Deman Number Two: Christian Horner is removed as the team principal of Red Bull Racing indefinitely and an investigation is opened on Red Bull, Christian, and the head of the FIA. I should've stood up for the treatment of Y/N back in the day, and I didn't. But I will do it now. The treatment she had endured was something I would never wish on a driver. The constant hours of berating her for doing her job, and blackmailing her by threatening to reveal that she miscarried are unacceptable and they, Christian especially, should be taken into account.”

“We want to make it clear that this was not the decision or suggestion of Y/N L/N. This was entirely my suggestion, and all of the drivers instantly agreed. Do not send her hate for this. We will ensure that anyone who has attended any races or paid to attend any of the races get compensated somehow, and we will ensure that every single person who has paid to attend the races gets an apology that it has had to go this far. Action will not be taken until we make a drastic move, so this is our drastic move.” Charles then said his final sentence. “None of us will drive until our demands are met.” Charles repeated again.

-word count: around 1,300-

Hi All!!

Hope you're well. Here is a mini chapter for the Max story. Expect some drivers' strike chapters soon. This is unedited. Love you all x

Have a good day

Alocon

Taglist: @c-losur3 @itsjustkhaos @reidsworld @d3kstar @casperlikej

[srim01997]

Second Change| Aemond T. X OFC

Paring:  Aemond “One-Eye” Targaryen x Viseara Targaryen (OC), Aemond Targaryen x Viseara Targaryen (OC), Implied Aegon II Targaryen x Celtigar! OFC

Fandom: House of The Dragon (HBO)

Warning: Slight NSFW, Impregnant mentioned, Crispin being Crispin

Writer’s note: I tried to find that aemond gif lololo

Please ilke, comment and reblog!!

Previous Chapter | Second Chance masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter 10 The wh*re of Red Keep

Viseara arrived on the battlefield, her figure barely visible from Aemond’s vantage point atop his dragon. Even from the distance, he could tell she was gravely injured from defending House Celtigar’s castle. The two dragons, one massive and one smaller but fierce, circled in preparation to clash, their riders issuing commands.

“Angōs, Nyx! (Attack, Nyx!) / Drakarys!”

The grayish-blue dragon roared defiantly, launching itself at the larger Vhagar with fearless determination. The sky lit up with fire so intense that soldiers below were forced to shield their eyes or scatter to avoid the inferno. Flames erupted from the mouths of both beasts, consuming everything in their path. Despite her experience as a dragonrider, Viseara’s disadvantage became evident. Vhagar’s sheer size and cunning overshadowed the smaller, valiant Nyx.

Nyx faltered, its neck caught in Vhagar’s jaws. Black blood sprayed like rain, scalding soldiers on the ground who screamed in agony. Viseara gripped her reins tightly as her dragon began to plummet. Her mismatched eyes caught sight of Vhagar diving after her, and she could barely make out Aemond shouting something over the roaring wind. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks as her ears rang, rendering his words unintelligible.

She saw his gloved hand reaching for her, desperate and unyielding, before darkness engulfed her. Somewhere in the void, she thought she heard someone crying and felt the warmth of tears falling onto her face.

Viseara jolted awake just before dawn, her body aching from the aftermath of their passionate night. She shifted carefully, her limbs still tingling. The evidence of their union remained: the sticky warmth on her thighs and the soreness deep in her core. Grabbing a cloth, she dipped it into water and cleaned herself thoroughly, ensuring no trace remained.

Slipping back into the nightgown Aemond had stripped off her the night before, she walked to the balcony. The first rays of sunlight painted the horizon as she gazed out, lost in thought. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind, startling her. Aemond was awake.

“Good morning, Viseara,” he murmured, no longer addressing her with the formal Aunt. The young prince, clad only in loose trousers, stood bare-chested behind her, his eyepatch absent in their privacy. “You left me alone in bed.”

“I didn’t leave you,” she teased, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I just didn’t want to disturb you.”

“When will you call me by my name? No—last night you screamed it until your voice gave out when I—”

“If you say one more word, I’ll kick you out of this room,” she snapped, her cheeks flushing at his audacity. She couldn’t deny the volume of their cries last night likely alerted everyone in the castle. Glancing at the bed, the soiled sheets bore testimony to their deeds. She pitied the maid who would have to clean the mess. “Are you feeling better now?”

She almost forgot he had been drugged the night before. But by whom?

“Aemond… Who drugged you?”

The one-eyed prince collapsed onto the bed, massaging his temples as if piecing together the events of the previous evening. After a moment, he spoke. “I drank tea given to me by Cassandra Baratheon. Not long after, I felt strange—almost lost control and pounced on her, but I managed to stop myself and came to you—”

“So you decided to unleash it on me instead?!” Viseara groaned, throwing his shirt at him. “Get dressed and go back to your room before your mother realizes you’ve been here—”

Before she could finish, Aemond sprang to his feet and captured her lips in a fervent kiss. She didn’t resist as his tongue sought hers, his hands pulling her closer. In moments, she found herself perched on the desk, his tall frame slotting between her legs.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, smirking. “If I hadn’t been under the influence last night, I’d have taken you somewhere other than the bed.”

Her palm smacked against his chest, the hard muscle beneath her hand reminding her of how much he’d grown. Meeting his gaze, she tilted her head up to kiss him again, guiding his hand beneath her nightgown. “See how much of a mess you made?”

“It’s still warm enough for me to enter again…”

“I’m sore.”

“I know…” Aemond murmured, nuzzling her neck as his hands began to unlace his trousers—

The sound of the door creaking open froze them both. Viseara’s children stood in the doorway, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief as they took in the compromising scene: their cousin and their mother, both partially undressed.

Scrambling to fix her clothing, Viseara turned to face them, cheeks aflame. “I can explain.”

Now, Viseara and Aemond sat side by side at the edge of the bed while Aenys, Maeria, and Elia stood before them with scrutinizing gazes. Aenys, the eldest son of the Rogue Princess, directed his sharp words at his cousin, who wore an annoyingly innocent expression.

"You slept with my mother, Aemond?" Aenys demanded, his tone icy. "You lay with her knowing she's my mother!"

"I know," Aemond admitted calmly, meeting the older cousin's piercing stare. "And I love her."

"How many times?" Aenys pressed, his voice rising. "How many times have you done this with my mother?"

"Quite a few," Aemond replied nonchalantly. "Sometimes she comes to me, but mostly, I come to her room."

Maeria and Elia exchanged wide-eyed looks, utterly speechless at their cousin's candid confession. Maeria, the eldest daughter, raised a hand to her mouth, stunned. She couldn't believe that this particular cousin, who had always shown disdain for marriage alliances, had been so consumed by their mother. It was not uncommon for Targaryens to marry within the family—siblings, cousins, or relatives of similar age—but an aunt-nephew relationship was far less frequent.

If this cousin became their stepfather, it would be utterly unsettling.

"Does anyone else know about this?" Maeria asked cautiously.

"Larys knew," Aemond replied flatly, "but he's dead now, so his loose tongue is no longer a concern. Don't worry; I plan to marry your mother."

"That’s not the point!" Aenys shot back. "You’re betrothed to Lord Baratheon’s daughter, yet you’ve been sneaking into my mother’s bed—"

"I am not betrothed," Aemond interrupted, his voice hardening. "I will not marry anyone except Viseara."

At that moment, Aenys wished his uncle Daemon could hear how desperately the one-eyed prince wanted to wed his mother. Aenys's mind raced with questions—had his mother become pregnant? Aemond showed no remorse for his actions, sitting there as though everything was perfectly acceptable. The Celtigar heir spoke in a measured tone.

"At least the Baratheon girl is closer to your age," Aenys said, glaring. "Your grandfather and mother will never—"

"Then I’ll take her to Dragonstone or one of the Free Cities and have a priest marry us," Aemond declared with a smirk. "In nine months, you might even have a new sibling."

"You!" Aenys lunged at Aemond, but the three women quickly intervened, pulling the two apart. Viseara’s voice cut through the tension.

"Aemond, how could you say such things?" she chided. "I’m too old to bear children."

"I know," Aemond replied, placing a firm hand on her lower stomach. "But what if you already are, and you don’t realize it yet?"

"I drank moon tea after you left my bed, Aemond."

"Seven hells, if I get a new sibling now, I’ll throw myself off the battlements," Aenys groaned dramatically.

Elia cleared her throat. "Let’s focus on the real issue. Lady Baratheon is furious because Aemond disappeared. She claims—or rather, insists—that he abandoned her after taking her maidenhood—"

"I did no such thing!" Aemond’s voice thundered, then steadied as he explained. "I was drugged and came straight to your mother—"

"Drugged?" Maeria interjected. "Cassandra Baratheon, of all people, drugged you? That woman is too dimwitted to pull something like that off unless someone gave her the means."

"There aren’t many who could make such a potion," Aemond said, rubbing his temples.

"And you were foolish enough to accept a drink from someone you barely know," Maeria said, narrowing her eyes. "It’s a miracle it wasn’t poison, or you’d be feasting with the Stranger instead of sitting here with my mother."

"Maeria," Aenys cut in, confused. "How do you know it was Cassandra?"

"Do I have to deal with both a dense brother and a clueless cousin?" Maeria sighed.

"Maeria!"

"Apologies, Mother," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Here’s what I know: I overheard Maris complaining about how she didn’t want to marry Aemond because of his missing eye. As for Ellyn, she’s been flirting with Aenys—"

"Hey!" Aenys protested. "I was merely being polite to her."

"Think carefully," Elia chimed in. "Which is worse: Aemond being accused of abandoning Lady Baratheon, or the entire Red Keep finding out that Aemond and Mother have been sharing a bed?"

"Considering how loud it was last night, I’d say everyone already knows," Aenys muttered, shooting a glare at Aemond. "And you’re not even sorry!"

"I am sorry, cousin," Aemond said, his smirk returning. "Sorry that I’ll be doing it again."

He was pulled from his reverie of last night’s escapades by a knock at the door and a servant’s voice.

"Prince Aemond, Princess Viseara—Queen Alicent requests your presence."

“Seven hells”

Alicent tried to comfort Cassandra, who continued her theatrical sobbing beside her. The queen’s dark eyes scanned the people entering the hall. She strode forward and slapped her son hard enough to make his face turn. Viseara quickly interjected.

"You should hear him out first, Your Grace—"

"He violated her and then disappeared to be with you. He must take responsibility for this," Alicent said, her voice heavy with disappointment as she looked at her son. "I never raised you to behave this way."

Viseara noticed the defiant glint in Aemond’s single eye and quickly spoke up.

"Your son was drugged, Your Grace. It was an aphrodisiac, the kind used in brothels. How Lady Baratheon came into possession of such a substance, I do not know. Perhaps from one of the Maesters?"

"Or perhaps someone gave it to her," the rogue princess suggested, tilting her head. "Don’t you think that if it had been poisoned instead, you and your family might now face charges of attempting to assassinate the royal family?"

"I... I can’t say," Cassandra stammered, avoiding the rogue princess’s piercing gaze. "But the person who gave it to me said it would help me win the prince’s favor. I didn’t mean to drug him, and… he got up and left. He didn’t… violate me."

At that moment, the queen felt as if the world was crumbling around her. Her second son didn’t want to marry, the issue with Lady Baratheon was unresolved, and now Viseara was involved in this scandal. The rogue princess continued.

"That night, he was with me, and I—"

"I lay with her," Aemond declared unapologetically. "I didn’t violate Lady Baratheon that night because I went to my aunt’s chambers, as you all heard."

The rogue princess wanted to scream. That wasn’t part of her plan! She had been trying to help cover up Aemond’s indiscretion, not throw gasoline onto an already blazing fire.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Ser Criston murmuring something, and she caught the words "Red Keep harlot." Her hand twitched toward her sword, but Aemond’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Ser Criston, what did you just call Princess Viseara?" Aemond’s sharp gaze locked onto the Kingsguard knight, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. "Say it again."

"I said nothing, Your Grace," Criston replied flatly.

"Such a liar. Not that I’m accusing you, Ser Criston," Viseara quipped with a smirk before turning to Alicent. "So, Your Grace, what will you do about this?"

The queen inhaled deeply, then spoke. "Princess Viseara, I must admit this is a difficult decision. But I beg to discuss this matter with you privately after this issue is resolved."

Viseara spent several hours in her chambers after the heated discussion between Lord Baratheon, Otto, and Alicent about how to handle the scandal. The best solution to quell the rumors surrounding Aemond and the rogue princess seemed to be sending Viseara to Dragonstone or the Silent Sisters. But such a move might result in an outcome similar to Princess Saera’s, or worse, Daemon might burn King’s Landing to the ground. The Dragonstone option was deemed the lesser evil.

The rogue princess arrived at Dragonstone on the back of her dragon, greeted by none other than Daemon. The rogue prince frowned as he noticed servants unloading her luggage and belongings from the ship.

Before he could speak, she raised a finger. "Don’t ask."

"If you don’t want to explain, fine. Welcome to Dragonstone, dear sister," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Don’t worry, you won’t starve. Just don’t touch my lady’s lemon cakes."

"Better guard your wine, or it’ll vanish bottle by bottle," she retorted.

For months, she settled into Dragonstone, finding solace in her twin brother’s mischievous grin. But something still felt missing, though she chose not to dwell on it.

Aenys remained by his mother’s side, while Elia stayed with Aegon as his wife and Maeria, as Alicent’s handmaiden, could not follow Viseara.

Though banished to Dragonstone, Viseara had no intention of fading into obscurity. She predicted that in three or four months, Vaemond would seize the opportunity to challenge Lucerys’s claim to Driftmark while Corlys was still recovering. If successful, House Velaryon’s fleet would fall to the Greens, and Daemon would inevitably kill Vaemond in the throne room.

Her role now was to navigate the coming storm, knowing full well the stakes at play. If she wanted to ensure Rhaenyra’s ascension to the Iron Throne, she would have to be ready for the real battle ahead.

TBC.

[celmian]

"Cooking for Alfred" Damian Wayne x OC's short fanfic.

/Adult Damian (University)

/warnings/ Dirty joke, (18+) language/

Hi, first of all this is just one of the part of the main fanfic I have been written. The oc is now dating Damian and she wants to cook for Alfred on his birthday. You can follow-up the main story in AO3. The fanfic is called 'Damian Wayne x OC : Hunting the witch'. English is not my first languages so, I hope I didn’t mess up anything.

Also, the oc name is Celine Constantine. She is John Constantine's daughter. Hope you enjoy.

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“…Celine, didn’t you used to tell me that you know how to cook?”    “Well, cooking is not baking...”    A picture of two teenagers approaching adulthood walking chaotically in the kitchen… Around the counter island there was powder and the egg panels all over were probably a strange sight that happened in Wayne Manor…a sight that Alfred Pennyworth would not have allowed to happen in normal situations because he wouldn't have to bother cleaning up the mess later. 

...but today is Alfred's birthday. 

  So Celine has a crazy idea. As a resident, she wanted to give him a surprise. So, they have Bruce take the old man into town while the two young men,Celine and Damian, prepare a homemade birthday cake for the butler. The witch Constantine claims to have worked behind the stove at Fine Dining restaurant before...Damian doesn't know in which position. But from the looks of it, she isn't a dessert chef definitely... 

“...Okay, I'm just one of those people who helps prepare the cold kitchen where they serve appetizers and such...but back when I'm in London, I always cook for myself. I just never made dessert. That’s all.” The girl immediately defended her cooking skills. “The pasta with grilled vegetables that you ate the other day was made by me...” With that, both of her hands are now placed on the hips..    “Really?”    Damian Wayne had known that his girlfriend liked to help Alfred prepare food…but he thought she might just be chopping vegetables, preparing meats, whatever like that. Instead of making her own menu like she claimed. 

…The other day, the pasta that Damian packed to eat at university for lunch was so delicious that he asked Alfred to make it a daily menu. The old man smiled suspiciously. It wasn't him who made it, but it was the witch. 

“…Shall we make pasta instead then?” the young man suggested as his head recalled the rich flavor of the fresh pasta and grilled mushrooms, he had eaten the day before…    “It's Alfred's birthday, Damian. We must make a cake...”  

“But the others will come here soon…we have to prepare other kind of food anyway. Why don't you go take care of the savory and leave me here with the cake?” Both Richard Starfire, Raven the witch, and Stephanie Brown...including Tim Drake will be here today for the old man’s birthday. So, if they both waste time on one cake, they won't get anything done into pieces. The young man waved his hand and chased his girlfriend away from his dessert making area, earning a look of pouty face from Celine Constantine. 

"..You? Are you sure you know how to bake?" The girl looked at her boyfriend's face judgmentally... 

“Better than you do.” His hand moved towards the first cake that had been baked, which was so crumbly and incomplete that the whole thing had to be thrown into the trash… Only then the black-haired witch calms down and walked away to do her own duties as well... 

A long time had passed and the whole kitchen was quiet…no sound except the sound of boiling water, the sound of beating eggs, and other sounds of cooking. Celine walked back around to find her boyfriend in the dessert kitchen area, which was also quiet. She saw him in an apron Standing and squeezing cream into a round disc of something. With diligence and expert look. The young girl watched as those slender, beautiful fingers gently put the round plates together. so, she couldn't help but tease him about how skilled he was. 

“You make macarons? Wow. I didn't know that I slept with the Master Chef of dessert every day.” ...This French dessert is so hard to make. Even Celine couldn't make it through just baking a cake...but this Baby Bat showed off his skills in making macarons? Why he’s so annoyingly talented? 

Damian didn't answer…he shook his head and wiped the sweat from his chin. That's when the young girl came to help. using the handkerchief that was placed on his shoulder to wipe away the sweat that was flowing down the small frame of his chin before smiling at the face's owner.    “..Does this mean that if we get married you will be the househusband? Hmm? Dami?” 

“Dream on.” Damian shook his head, expanding his words as he looked proudly at the work on the table. “...Housework is a duty that we must help on both sides. And I have to go to work…Father's company will soon be mine. If I only act as your butler, who will run the company? Hmm, Celine?” Those words weren't very serious... The young man kissed his girlfriend's head as a thank you for helping him wipe his face before walking off to explore the savory side..    “…You....You make a heck lot of pasta.” Deep voice hurriedly commented on the amount of fresh pasta that the young girl had prepared in a pot for the people coming to the party to eat.   “Well, don't you remember the last time Dick ate the entire pot of meatballs by himself?” Celine reminded the young man of Bruce's birthday back in the middle of the year when the eldest of the family accidentally ate a meatball that Alfred had made for everyone all by himself.  “You’re right. Richard must have eaten it all by himself.” Damian Wayne immediately agreed…he nodded before quickly helping his girlfriend clean up the kitchen. Prepare a plate for the guests who will be coming to the old butler's birthday dinner in a few hours. 

In the evening, Bruce, Alfred and Stephanie, who went to help Bruce, arrive at the manor with Damian, Dick, the two girls from Titans, and Tim Drake is waiting. Of course, Damian briefly relents with Tim to stop his eldest brother from eating all the food before the birthday owner arrives.    The old man walked into the house, filled with joy. Starfire and Raven were the ones who brought out the cake. The remaining people sang songs of blessing to the talented butler. Damian stood and applauded silently. Dick sings off-key and loses his voice as Stephanie tries to save the song from crisis but failed. And after Alfred blew out the candles, they all gathered around the grand dining table of the mansion that was full of guests today…    “..This pasta is very delicious. Miss Celine, did you do it yourself?” The old butler was happy… that today he didn't have to prepare huge quantities of food himself. But what will the condition of the kitchen be like? This is something to worry about.    “Yes.” Celine smiled as she proudly watched Richard gobble down her pasta from the pot… 

“...What about macarons? Did you make it yourself? It's just as delicious as the one my friend brought from France.” Tim tried to compliment the new girl in the Bat House that he hadn't talked to much before Damian put down his fork and a smile curled his lips. It was then that Red Robin knew exactly who the person that made this tray of macarons was. “Oh my gosh…”  Tim shook his head, his hand hurriedly put down the dessert… but after a while he reluctantly picked it up and ate it again.    “Wanna bet on who made the cake?” On Dick's side, his hand was still holding the fork around the pasta. Turning to Bruce, who had been eating quietly by himself for a long time… The Dark Knight shook his head. Looking at the large chocolate cake with candles that had been sliced ​​up by Raven and Starfire for the party. Those blue eyes looked at the cake for just a moment and then responded immediately. 

“It’s Damian, obviously.”    “But I think it’s Celine,” Dick quickly bets against…    “..Ahem, Master Bruce, Master Richard. Gambling is not a good behavior to do on this kind of celebration....”  The birthday man sitting next to Bruce couldn't help but cough after hearing that conversation… He took the cake from Starfire and held it in his hand before considering it without tasting it. “I think they both do it together.”    “Accept the bets” Nightwing gave the old man a challenging smile before turning and asking to the two young men who the winner of this bet would be… “Hey! Little D! Celine! Who made this cake?”    “It’s Damian.” …and the answer from the young witch made Alfred stunned because even though he was the one who taught Damian how to bake, he had no idea that the boy would be able to use what he had taught him to do it all by himself. Dick was annoyed but managed to get a smile from Bruce as the old butler and Nightwing took a cash from their pockets and paid the manor a bill each. 

…and soon after the cakes, pasta, macarons, and all sorts of food were eaten by the people in the house, most of whom was Dick, the guests gradually left. They left Alfred a gift. Stephanie left the baking equipment. Damian gives him a cookbook. Dick gives him a new suit. Raven and Starfire buy him a new portable oven. Bruce gave him gloves and a winter coat, but Celine unexpectedly gave the same book as her boyfriend… 

“Damn, I didn't know we were going to buy the same book... and it's the exact same one but in a different language,” the young witch complained about when Alfred has to have the exact same gifts but in difference language without nobody knowing it beforehand. “...And why are you buying a Chinese text cookbook? Shouldn't those things have to be transported by ship?” The two young men were cleaning up the house while Alfred was sent to sleep by Damian. Meanwhile, Bruce handles company work before leaving on late-night patrol. And Celine complains loudly about the gift she has just given the old butler. 

“...Chinese recipes should be read in Chinese. Do you think Pennyworth couldn’t read Mandarin?” Damian frowned at the witch's question. She usually likes to buy books about the same story but in different versions or sometimes in different languages. But today she suddenly complains to him about it… “You can't read Chinese? Can’t you?” So, the young man made this assumption.    …and damn, Damian Wayne really has good instincts for matters that don't matter. 

The girl rolled her eyes, and the young man knew immediately that she was complaining about the whole Mandarin language stuff because she couldn't read it herself…    “I swear to you. Damian…if you start speaking Chinese to me. I'm going to suck your dick until it's rotten-”    “-下流 (Xia Liu)” …and of course, the mouthy young man wasn't easily fazed by that threat. He chuckled before starting to spit Chinese at the other person after knowing that she wasn't good at it...well, he's always been like this...loves competition like a psychopath.    “坏蛋 (Huai Dan)” But then the black-haired witch immediately shot back… she put down the powder box she was holding and put it on the countertop with a look of trouble on her face amidst the young man's bewildered expression.    “..I thought you couldn't speak Chinese?”    “When did I say I couldn't speak Chinese? I just couldn't read it.”  Celine raised her eyebrows with a defiant expression on her face…    “Then from now on, I'll send you a text in Chinese-”    -wad!    And then the box of powder that had been put down in the first place flew towards Damian Wayne immediately as he continued to annoy her. The witch already knew that an ex-assassin like him would definitely be able to catch that thin cardboard box. So, she crossed her arms over her chest, as her boyfriend caught it with precision and looked towards her.    “Did you know…one of your bad habits is throwing things when you don't get what you want?” Damian had seen Celine throw a pillow or sometimes an entire cigarette box at her father...sometimes she had a good reason for doing that. Sometimes there is no reason at all. Celine Constantine was spoiled rotten by her irresponsible father. But she is a spoiled person who knows that she has a bad personality…so Damian can accept it in somewhat of of way.

Because he's like that too.    “..So? Do you want me to describe your bad habits too?” The girl folded her arms across her chest and raised her head to look at her boyfriend with another look of trouble. 

“Go on…” The young man looked at those expressions. He didn't feel annoyed. Instead, he slowly walked towards his lover... a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his girlfriend smiled back and knew that he was definitely going to find something to get back at her... 

“Let's start with what? The size of your dick? I think it should be illegal-”  

“-Celine, we are talking about my bad personality, not what you like but denies that you don't like...” Damian, on the other hand, quickly used his strong hands to gather his girlfriend's mischievous body into an embrace...watching her laughing, pretending to run away but not getting anywhere.    “..So... What about your competitive personality? I swear, if I say I like a horse's cock, you will definitely going to lengthen it to compete with the hoarse-” 

Phew!!    ...and Celine's foul mouth made the arrogant boyfriend unable to bear it anymore. He took the box of powder in his hand that his girlfriend had thrown and dumped it on her head. He knew that Alfred would definitely curse him if he saw the kitchen floor right now. But believe him, it was very satisfying to see a person with a good mouth become silent because of the amount of flour stuck in her throat. She choked, the powders are now all over the sweet face attached to that bad mouth... 

But Celine Constantine wasn't the type to give in even in the most demanding situations… She turned and smeared the powder on her boyfriend's face. Smeared white powder on his perfect body. Damian is inferior. His hands scooped up the powders that had flown onto the counter and threw them all over his girlfriend's face, causing a small war in the kitchen. The one that ended up with Alfred walking in… The old man wanted to come get some water to quench his thirst after waking up late at night. Before coming to see his nightmare come true. Two young people threw cooking flour at each other. Rubbing each other's hair like it was a fun idea...Even Richard, at his most naughty age, had never done anything like this before...Then both young adults get warned by Alfred. Damian Wayne, who even used to be a child with a loudmouth that caused a lot of troubles, but he never caused any mischief like this before. So, he gets warned too. 

…but hey! At least this time Celine didn't start it.    Didn’t she?            “I got 1 point, and you got 0…” 

After fighting until they both were satisfied, the two young people came to take a dip in the water to clean themselves together after the war ended before Damian had to go on patrol with his father... Celine acts like a little kid who likes to play with a duck. She lets the plastic ducky float on the water in the tub. Damian was forced to watch her play with it while having his lover sit on his lap in the tub. 

“Why did I get 0 points when I really am the one who started it?” His thin lips gently kissed the shoulder of the person on his lap. His eyes looking at his wet girlfriend, he is frowning while asking...    "..It's easy because I'm the one giving the scores." Celine pinches her boyfriend's nose at the same time as squeezing the duck in her hand...it very well triggers a feeling of annoyance from her lover. A strong hand squeezed that round cheek, causing her to scrunch up until he had to let go before the two of them could continue their war in this bathroom.    “I think Pennyworth looks very happy… I have to thanks you for organizing this event for him today.” After pounding his girlfriend's face until he was satisfied, Damian Wayne hurriedly changed the conversation to the serious subject before Celine could react… Her expressions changed and nodded her head softly. Continue squeezing the duck in her hand instead of getting revenge on Damian... probably because she was thrilled that her idea made the old man smile this much. 

“...Come on, don’t act like you guys have never done this before…” Celine pouted a little while Damian's smile twitched slightly at the corners of his mouth before he looked away. 

“Actually… Normally we are all busy that no one takes the lead in this matter. Richard and Drake would just stop by for lunch on the day. Gave things to Pennyworth and left… We never got together like this. Until you are the one who suggested it.” ...It was probably the nature of Bat House to always forget the most important matters outside of their night duties… They often forgot the daily lives of those around them. It's something that almost every Bat member been.    “..So, I'm glad you chose to be a normal person and stay here with Pennyworth.” Ever since Celine Constantine entered the mansion, things had started to change a little… Even though she is that kind of person who don't celebrate her own birthday but she did it for others. After receiving Damian's first birthday present. She organizes a party for Bruce. And this time it was Alfred. She comes from the house of an occult detective but doesn't want to continue being the occult detective. Like she knew how lonely their careers were…she chose to be a normal person and spent her time doing things that Damian and the other Bats couldn't. Both are things that John Constantine couldn't do either. 

She chooses to spend time with those who she loves.    Celine gently touched her lover's face when she heard that. Her hand slid down his face before embracing it. 

“...Don't worry. Damian…Whatever you feel like you can't do or find it difficult to do. I will do it for you. You don't have to say or express everything to me. Just be with me, be happy…and I will do whatever you want to do for you.” A sweet voice whispered softly, kissing her boyfriend's forehead once...it was a voice that the young man felt calm after listening to. It felt like he didn't have to try so hard anymore…it felt natural. That would be more accurate to say... 

…Damian Wayne closed his eyes and immersed himself in that embrace for as long as he could. 

______________________________________

P.s.: Damian in this fanfic became softer after dating Celine and she moved in his manor because she decides to study at Gotham's university. Her back story made her father doesn’t celebrated her birthday because John Constantine didn’t celebrate his own birthdays too. Hopefully I will post more of them in the future.

P.s.2 : Yes, She has a foul mouthed like her dad lol

[matimosrighthand]

[ Chapter 1: Barely Enough ]

Oc story which can be seen as a Y/N story if you simply ignore the names

It’s a 141 + Roach x reader ( male )

It’s also Omegaverse. (More info at end)

Have fun

Julie knew that this was highly weird.

Not only from his point of view.

Surely not.

But the fact that everything had been going wrong today and that he was now send someone‘s base to act as a Lawyer at around 4am was outright wrong. Not that he had slept a lot.

He was a lawyer. He did not get sleep.

Considering that he should count himself lucky that it was at 4am. So he got like…1h of sleep. He couldn’t just push it down. It was somewhat his job to defend the Military in court so that they won’t have to show their faces, but he mainly did it because of Laswell. His mom.

Thinking back he recalled her saying: „They are good people.“ That’s the only argument you got? He had wanted to say back but well… he disliked seeing Kate sad so…fuck it. The car stopped at a part of the road. You were supposed to be driven by a Shadow but you disliked them. So he took a taxi. „You sure you want to be out here?“ the driver asked before Julie simply dopend the door and paid him. With his stuff now in a case( like the ones you take in one hand) he walked the path into the woods. Directions were a bit of on occasions but none the less he soon found himself in front of a smaller base.

It was well hidden but well…he was not bad at spotting either. Julie checked one last time and the nocked at the door. Nobody answered. So he started searching for a back door. He found a hidden door in the ground. WOW how classic.

He had gone through military training once, before he decided that selling his soul and sleep to satan was a good idea. So Julie opened it, creaking loudly. „Well….“ He could have just waited at the door.

He came out in some office. Unsure of his position he did recognize a paper on the table with his name on it. *So this must be my clients room* It was nothing special. Just a room with too many shelf’s and too many paperwork that was forgotten in some corner or properly sorted into the shelf’s.

A chair and a desk in the middle. Julie had gone towards the couch and the coffee table at the left side, sitting down and waiting. *I should call Laswell* is what Julie thought before he pulled out his phone. Walking around the office and looking at the shelf’s filled with documents.

While he tried reaching the Laswell he found a strange looking profile without a picture at the front. *Mh? That’s not legal!* Going over it all with his finger and pulling out the documents, he slowly opens it. His phone forgotten somewhere on the shelf.

O

„Ghost-, Simon Riley.“ he recited while reading. He had tried to turn to the next page, before his left arm was suddenly grabbed and he practically flew to the left. The documents falling in the process.

His body hit the ground sideways, hard.

Julie hissed at the pain and when he tried to look at who did it, he was met with a punch to the gut.

1 no, 2 people were in the room. One who hit him and the other who had him now pinned down with his knee on his ribcage. Fuck he was heavy. Julie cursed in his mind. Another punch fell to his face this time, surely leaving bruises behind. Another few fell before he could even say anything.

After about 7 he was heaved up and pushed onto a chair, seeing his *friends* for the first time. They looked way to scary. „Who do you work for?“ One said threatening. Julie really tried to take this moment seriously but well: „The law? What am I supposed to say? Jesus?!“ came out groaning. Flexing the face muscles that were hit a little too hard.

The door to the office slammed open.

„Ghost! Soap! Stop beating your lawyer up!“ a voice came. It had sounded like a younger males voice.

Julie took this chance to look past them. Black, build properly. Was most likely a cop before. *Kyle* He had seen his file and the picture. His face shifted from annoyed to worried when he saw the blue spots forming on Julie’s face.

Before anyone can say anything else, Price came into the room. Julie knew him. He was send to help him. „Hi.“ Julie said flopping down onto the couch. „Hey.“ Price said before looking at the scene with confusion. His cup of coffee held in his right hand. He took a sip before he said. „So…“ „We thought he was a spy.“ Soap said fast. „Sry buddy.“ Kyle said.

Barely enough sry

„Please sit down Mister Price.“ Julie said gesturing down at the chair. Wanting to just finally start his conversation so he could get away from this place. „How did ya get‘in?“ Soap asked. „You should hide your backdoors more. Or open the door when someone knocks.“ They looked at each other. „So that is what Roach heard.“ Ghost said. „Roach? Are you an insect fan?“ Julie asked. Soap broke out into laughter.

„No. Is just our comerad‘s name.“ Soap voiced out. Julie just looked at Price. Who took one last sip of coffee. You hated that smell. Every time someone drank it in Julie’s present it would make him throw up. Lucky him that he was experienced.

„So what the thing.“

„Ghost and Soap over there decided to break into a house to get something. But they mistook it and accidentally broke into a civilians home.“ Price explained.

„It was his fault!“ Soap said, ominously pointing at Ghost. „No. You broke down the door before I could tell you the proper coordinates.“

„And let me guess they sued you now. For… warcrimes. Which would be a harsher punishment than simply paying for it.“ Julie figured putting together the pieces.

„Not just that. They also ran from the police.“ Gaz said. „An they want some justice.“

„Urhghh.“ Julie sighs. Realizing he broke out of his lawyer character he quickly sat upright again.

„Well there isn’t too much involved so this is not a problem.“ Julie stood up. „You don’t even have to be there. They have yet to say they want you in court, so I can just deal with them at their home.“

When Julie nearly opened the office door his phone rang an alarm.

„A hurricane?“ Kyle said.

Price smirked. „Guess you’ll stay here for a bit.“

Gaz( Kyle ) is an Omega

Ghost and Price are Alphas

Soap is a Beta

Alejandro and Rudy are both Alphas in love

Roach is also an Alpha

Julie ( or y/n ) is a beta ( as if. Not for long hehe)

There will be:

Rudy x Alejandro

Soap x Ghost

ghost x price

soap x Gaz

Gazx Price

Roach x Ghost

Roach x Kyle

Oc/Yn/Julie x all

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 36: Take Charge

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

“Thank God, you’re staying!”

If I hear those words any longer they will become my motto. The day after Thomas visited me I got calls from everyone asking if I was still in England. Before I know it things are going smoothly as if nothing’s changed. The only reminder of Grace’s absence is when I’ll spot Thomas alone in his office, staring outside the window. I’ll prepare a small tea tray and quietly slip it on his desk before he notices. A small gesture but he’s always quick to thank me when he sees me next.

Today’s bustle seems like any other except there’s a caravan of wagons approaching. I look out the front window to see the Shelby men hopping out and gathering near the barn. Is there something I should be concerned about?

I walk up to the men as one approaches a wild horse. Cautious and quiet. They appear to be in good spirits so that takes away some worry. Thomas isn’t out yet. Finn’s busy talking with Uncle Charlie. Maybe Arthur can tell me what’s going on.

“... Need to lay low once the baby comes.”

His conversation with John makes me gasp. “Linda’s pregnant?”

Arthur turns around with a big grin on his face. “Yes!”

I’m shocked, but in a good way. “Jesus. Between you and John we’ll have kids running everywhere. Congratulations!”

“Thank you. We’re expecting around September. ‘M gonna be a dad! Me, a fucking dad!”

I clap my hands together and praise the sky. “A thousand blessings on you both!”

We all share the same thought. A new baby is what we need now to help chase away the sadness that’s plagued us. And I know Arthur is going to be a wonderful father. 

Footsteps approach and Thomas joins the party. This is strange. He’s carrying a satchel. As if he’s going camping.

“Where are you lot going?” I ask him.

“To the woods, for some hunting.”

I stifle a laugh. “Hunting? You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” Thomas replies and I follow him inside the barn.

“I didn’t think you’d be willing to get your hands dirty with something like that.”

Thomas leads his black steed out of the stall. “Kill a deer, kill a man. Same thing.” He pauses for a minute. “Ever heard of the Mickey Free? ‘S a bar in Boston.”

This question is out of the blue. “No. Why?”

Thomas looks to see we’re alone and leans in. “Don’t tell the others yet, but our dad just died there.”

Arthur Shelby Senior. Dead. In whatever manner of way he died I can’t gather too much sympathy for this news. He, like many others must, assumed I was playing into the Shelby charm of lust. How am I supposed to feel sorry for that? Thank God Thomas cast him out and defended my integrity.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I finally respond.

“No need, I know you didn’t like him,” Thomas waves it off. “This hunt is to remember him, and forget him. Now you, Verena, are going back to Watery Lane before Ada accuses me of keeping you captive.”

Now it’s my turn to wave off his concern. “Oh it’s no trouble. It’s been a tad isolating but the country is a nice change from the city.”

From looking at the side of his face I see that Thomas agrees; but there’s something else he’s thinking of when I say that. Maybe he thinks he’ll never be able to truly relax while he's away from Birmingham. He mounts the steed and joins the parade of horses trotting into the woods. I give them all a wave goodbye just as they disappear behind the trees. A small men’s holiday might be just what they need.

Same filthy streets, same stuffy air. The car sent to pick me up drops me off outside the Shelby household. The driver says nothing, only helping to carry my suitcase to the door. Without the Shelbys here it feels less exciting. More empty. Once inside an unnatural silence drapes the atmosphere, that is until I hear heels clicking down the hall.

“Verena?” Polly sticks her head around the corner. “Tommy finally let you out of that place.”

I start to tell her I was there on my own free will but something about her seems off. She looks nervous. And tired. As if she’s been thinking too much. I’ve been so busy keeping watch over Thomas’ mourning that I didn’t think about reaching out to others. 

“What can I help with, Polly?” It’s a loaded question.

The older woman looks away shaking her head and walks towards the door. Is there something I should know about?

“Polly, where are you going?”

“Confession. At the church.”

“Should I come-?”

“No,” she sharply cuts me off. “I need to do this alone. Go help in the office.”

I try to follow her. “Polly, please. You don’t look well-”

Polly holds up a hand to stop me just as she shuts the door. “Do as you’re told.”

If she- But I- Oh. Okay. I can help with some paperwork. But honestly the thought of being stuck at a desk all day doesn’t seem as fetching. 

“‘S not fair,” Esme whines for the fifth time.

I was right. This is awful. I’ve been here an hour and both Lizzy and Esme are in no mood for pleasant discussion. Now I see why John was so eager to go on the trip. Esme’s current pregnancy is making her grouchy and sensitive. The only thing keeping her settled are her frequent whiffs of cocaine. And to top it off,  Lizzy’s still cross from my interactions with Thomas.

“They’re off drinking and shooting rifles as we sit here,” Esme complains. “Listening to the mugs swearing, spitting on the bloody floor for us to fucking wipe up! Without men here they’d be like dogs pissing up the wall.”

Just then the door opens and Polly walks in. I can’t tell if her stress has depleted or not. The good news is that she doesn’t want any of Esme’s attitude either.

“Esme, just… Get on with it.”

Esme groans and sniffs up more cocaine. “I’m bloody five months gone!”

I follow Polly to the safe and try to ask gently. “Polly? Do you feel better?”

She ignores me and leans her head against the safe. “Forgot the combination.”

“24-8-22,” Lizzie calls.

Polly’s just as puzzled as I am. “How’d you know?”

“Tommy talks in his sleep,” Esme pokes at her.

“Shut up, Esme,” Lizzy mutters.

Wait. Does that mean-?

Polly groans again. “He’s changed it.”

Lizzie gets up and starts fiddling with the dial. “You’ve put it in wrong.”

“No I haven’t,” Polly argues.

I step out of their way and go back to the table. This is it? Listening to them squabble while all the men are away? I actually was happier at Arrow House.

“I have been sleeping with Tommy,” Lizzie mentions. “Every now and then, when the mood takes him. Happy?”

No. I most certainly am not. I was right. While Thomas comes to me for empathetic consultations, he still doesn’t initiate physical emotions. Is May right? Does he think I’m too fragile?

“None of it’s fucking fair.” We know, Esme!

Knock knock.

Wonderful. Now who’s adding to the meeting of misery?

Linda opens the door with a bright smile on her face. “It’s me! Arthur said you’d be short-staffed today.”

She is so out of her normal standards. Linda walks around and practically scoffs at the illegal business. Her comments of purity against the company go ignored by the others. That’s it, I’m out. I’m already dealing with Lizzie’s comment. I don’t need this either.

I take an Irish goodbye and excuse myself back to the house. It may be lonely in the kitchen but at least the chicken I cook doesn’t squawk like those women do. I don’t know when the Shelbys will be back but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix a nice dinner for myself. Maybe I’ll call Ada and see if she wants company-

“There you are!” Linda walks in. “You’re coming too.”

I go back to washing dishes, uninterested. “Where?”

She comes up and slings an arm around mine, leading me away. “To the Bull Ring.”

I gawk at her bluntness. “Why?”

“To strike.”

I’m still confused. “For…?”

“Female workers’ rights. Come on, you of all people should appreciate this! You Americans had to go through tons to get the right to vote.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that-”

“Let’s go!”

She drags me out into the street to join the line of women workers marching towards the strike.

Something tells me I should go. Not for the extreme feminist cause but to be sure that no one gets hurt. Polly’s wild look in her eyes tells me her stress has melted into ambition. 

“Revolution! Now!”

I attempt to quiet her. “Polly, please! Calm down-”

“No I will not fucking calm down! We’ve been through this shit for too long!”

“Hallelujah!” Esme yells.

I knew coming back wasn’t such a grand idea.

The following morning Polly leans back in a kitchen chair with a cloth over her eyes. Clearly in a hangover. For three hours yesterday they shouted and raged against the male patriarchy. It didn’t help when people started passing around spirits.

Thud.

The front door closes and I hurry over to see if my suspicions are correct. Sure enough, Thomas is back. Maybe the fresh air did him some good.

“Morning, Thomas. About Polly- I tried to keep her safe.”

He takes a puff on his cigarette. “The strike?”

“Yes. It reminded me of women’s marches back home, but ours were a tad more civilized if you can believe it.”

He walks straight past towards where Polly and Lizzie are sitting.

“I heard you were giving speeches off the back of a wagon, Pol.”

She doesn’t move. “I can’t remember a fucking thing.”

“Well, Moss tells me you were threatening to burn down the town hall.” Thomas looks back at me. “Verena, will you please give us a moment alone?”

I have to keep my smile from falling. What? Is he upset with me? Does he think I’ll start ranting about freedom like a typical American?

“Of course, sir.”

Don’t show them disappointment. It’ll only give Linda and Lizzie more teasing ammunition against me. I retreat back to the parlor and set to dusting shelves. If I could slip out I’d properly dispose of my anger by swatting a broom against the alley wall. What am I supposed to do if you never let me in, Thomas?

“What are you doing?” 

Must have been a quick ‘moment.’ I thought for sure he’d call for Lizzie to- No. Stop right there, Steenstra. Jealousy never gets someone anywhere.

“Cleaning,” I say, keeping my face directed away from Thomas. 

“You know we can hire people to do that, right?”

I hum softly and continue wiping off the dirt. “I am hired help.”

“No. You’re not a maid, Verena. You keep us sane.” Thomas slumps into the lounge chair and runs a hand through his hair. “Fucking Russians. You will not believe the shit I went through last night.”

Again with the Russians. I warned him.

“Did the duchess try to kill you?”

Thomas rolls his eyes and glares at the wall. “Walked around practically naked in the dead of night, pointing a gun everywhere and demanding that poor Mary watches us fuck.”

My hand freezes and I slowly turn to look at him. “Y-You didn’t-?”

“No!” He quickly answers. “She- Please, please recite something clever.”

Clever? Is he using me just for my wit now? “Um- Alright. Sometimes life is like carving an apple.” Thomas’ stressed face changes to one of surprisement but I keep going. “When you find an apple with a brown spot you cut it out, right? It’s the same situation with people. We cut out the worst parts of ourselves to get along with one another.”

He thinks for a minute. “So you’re saying I should cut myself out? Just how much, eh?”

“What? No! Why would-?”

“Not everyone sees the good in people like you do, Verena.” Thomas pulls out a cigarette and stands up. “Never stop, love. Thanks by the way for keeping a watch on Polly.”

I offer a smile. “No problem. I might stop by later to see Charlie.”

The mention of his son immediately makes Thomas relax. “Right, Charlie. It’ll be nice to get some time with him. Do you need me to drive you?”

“No, no. I’ll manage. I’ve got some letters to mail first. My moeder goes crazy if I stay out of contact for more than a week.”

Thomas nods and walks out towards the door. We both know family comes first. As for his predicament with Duchess Tatiana Petrovna… It’s not my business but isn’t it a bit early to be courting after Grace’s funeral? Is this situation even a courtship at all? It doesn’t sound like Thomas initiated it. Curious, considering it’s usually the woman falling into his bed rather than her roping him in. Perhaps it’s a taste of his own medicine.

From the outside Arrow House looks as empty as before. What’s different this time is the friendly sight of Charlie and his nanny waving at me through the top window. Thomas’ car is here but there’s no sign of him at the door. Maybe he’s with the horses. I let myself in and the housekeeper immediately appears.

“Hello again, Mary. I’m here to check on Charlie.”

“Of course, Ms. Steenstra.” She leaves me to it and mutters something along the lines of “…More behaved than that other woman…”

Other woman? Who else has Thomas brought over? Does she mean the duchess? 

Instead of marching up the stairs I take a detour into the dining room, taking a seat at the head chair. The glorious portrait still hangs but instead of portraying confident power the painting resembles a man who has nothing but his horses. A lonely man.

Click click click.

“Bold of you to sit on a king’s throne.”

There she is. Duchess Tatiana Petrovna herself. That’s who poor Mary was talking about. There’s no question about her obvious beauty and she knows it. She looks down at my two hair braids with amusement. What is she here for? And is she talking about my seating choice? I meant no disrespect when I chose it.

I look down at where I’m sitting and back to her. “…It’s a chair.”

Thomas walks up behind her and sees where she’s looking. “That’s my chair. ‘S alright, you can-”

“It’s his chair,” the duchess states. “Move.”

Is she serious? Stay calm, Steenstra. You’ll only provoke her.

“It’s still just a chair, miss. He says I can sit in it.”

Her narrowed gaze doesn’t falter. “Move.”

I keep the same cool tone. “No.”

“Or else you will be moved.”

A hint of American attitude makes my face twitch into a look that dares her to continue. “Try me, duchess.”

Her jaw drops and Thomas steps forward trying to calm the storm. “Ladies, please. Mary, could we please get some tea?”

The duchess ignores his attempt and keeps looking at me. “He is your boss. You need to respect-”

“I respect Mr. Shelby just fine,” I respond evenly. “It’s you who’s out of place. You are a guest at Arrow House. I suggest you treat your host with respect. Good day.”

She resumes her stunned silence as I stand up and strut past them. Behind me I can already hear the complaining.

“…Let her speak to a Duchess like that?” she asks.

“You have your ways, the Americans have theirs. I don’t interfere.”

Just because she’s a rich duchess sleeping with him doesn’t mean she can order us around with an iron fist. I climb the stairs to Charlie’s room trying to clear the grudge from my thoughts. The bedroom door opens and the nanny steps out.

“He’s asking for his father. Shall I go fetch him?”

“Oh, no. I just saw Mr. Shelby downstairs. I’ll go get him.”

I pivot back to the stairs despite the internal urge to be as far away from the Russian royal as possible. Stay strong. It’s for Charlie. And if she wants to get on my nerves then she’ll face the bull head-on.

I see the couple walking down the hall. “Thomas! Charlie wants you.”

The gangster leader excuses himself and jogs past me, giving me a grateful nod. I take a deep breath and finish descending the stairs to where the duchess is. Time to set things straight.

“What are you doing?” 

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask in a low but demanding voice. “The poor man just lost his wife and you’re playing him like a bitch in heat!”

She doesn’t flinch. “Grief can take many forms.”

Not Thomas. This isn’t how he grieves. He likes to be alone. 

I signal for the housekeeper. “Mary, may I please have some whiskey?”

She notices my situation and nods. “Of course, Ms. Steenstra.”

But the duchess isn’t satisfied with my request. “Why ask? Demand it! She will have-”

My face flinches to look at her with murderous eyes. “Get out. Go.”

Her jaw drops. “This is not your house-”

“Then get the fuck away from me before I do something regretful.”

Now she smirks at my temper. “Are Americans this rude?”

My fists clench. “Americans do not look down to people who are not wealthy or of royal blood.”

“There’s fire in your eyes but you tame it. Could you kill me? Would you kill for love?”

“Murder for selfish intentions is not something I will stain myself with,” I state harshly and notice Thomas returning from Charlie’s room. “Excuse me, Thomas.”

Before he can respond I rush back to the door. I don’t wait to hear any more. How can he stand this woman? Lizzie is one thing but at least she gives me a fraction of respect. Petrovna only sees me as nothing but a tourist servant. As much as I was looking forward to seeing Charlie I will not be stable as long as that woman is around. 

Foreign relations consultant, indeed. I will stand my ground. No more waiting. It’s time to take charge for a change and bring my own tricks of the trade to the table.

@meadows5

[misc-obeyme]

unchained - chapter one

masterpost read the chapter on ao3

recommended music: Ghosts Have Arrived by Drexler word count: 2840

GN!MC x Arsenios [demon OC] a/n: Okay here we go. I decided to include Obey Me background images for each chapter. This is the RAD dance hall where some of this chapter takes place. Warnings: there is some blood & injury at the very start

Your heart pounded as you felt Arsenios’s arms encircling your waist, tightening protectively around you. The chains hanging off his wrists tapped gently against your body. Your back was pressed against his chest which was heaving with his heavy breathing. The scent of his blood was in the air, mingling with the ominous aura of his power and the discordant notes of some mangled melody.

There was a terrified bird loose in your stomach, fluttering through it and battering against its confines. Your wildly beating heart was in your throat, your ears ringing with the fragments of tones, your bones shivering beneath the weight of broken chords.

It was the middle of the night, but the bright silver light of the full moon washed over everything. Beneath you, two dirt roads met. Behind you, a demon whose broken chains clanged in concert with the odd song in the air. Before you, a reaper.

Pale in the moonlight and shrouded in a tattered black robe that billowed around him. A gleam of yellow eyes beneath the hood. The blinding reflection of that bright silver light bouncing off the metal of the scythe in his hands.

You could feel the rumble in Arsenios’s chest, a low growl that somehow sang a specific pitch - like he was getting ready to use his magic to defend you.

You gripped his arms, your fingers digging into his skin. “Arsenios, don’t,” you said quietly.

His grip on you remained tight, but the growl faded away. You knew he was scared, but he also trusted you. You felt his blood beneath your fingers, mingled with your sweat.

You closed your eyes and suddenly all you could hear were the soft strains of the piano, a deep voice full of yearning, a longing in your own soul that seemed to vibrate at the same frequency. A moment where you were so full you thought you’d overflow.

You let that emotion spill from you. Arsenios shivered behind you as he heard you singing.

Singing his song.

The one he wrote for you.

-

You couldn’t remember the first time you saw him, but you distinctly remembered the first time you noticed him.

You were walking down the hall at RAD and right when you reached a spot where it was crossed by another hallway, you heard it. You paused there in the crossroads to listen.

It was a piano melody full of feeling that wound through the air and around your heart, the notes sinking in like thorns that would never let go again. Your body grew heavy. It was a strange feeling and perhaps you should have been scared, especially when your feet began to move on their own. And yet, there was a longing inside you that was almost painful and somehow you knew that if you followed that music, the pain would ease.

That was the day you discovered that RAD had a piano other than the cursed one in the music room. It sat in the corner of the dance hall, small in the massive space, which explained why you had never noticed it before.

Now you stood behind a column, watching the demon that sat at the bench.

Behind him were dramatic high windows looking out over the school grounds, the darkness of the sky taking up most of them. Stars sparkled behind the leaded panes, silver light glimmering down through the vast space.

It was dim here, the lights off in a place where no one was supposed to be.

The demon at the piano had his eyes closed, fingers moving easily across the keys. You moved a little closer and realized that you recognized him. He was in a few of your classes, but you couldn’t remember seeing him regularly. What was his name again? Arsenios?

He was wearing his RAD uniform, the jacket open and several buttons undone on the green shirt. No tie, but you could see a pair of black suspenders. You remembered that he was tall and thick, though it was harder to tell when he was sitting down. His skin was light brown and his hair was dark brown with bright red highlights. It was long, reaching down to the middle of his back with shorter strands framing his face.

You listened to the song he was playing - something soft and sad in a minor key. Then to your surprise, the key changed and everything became brighter. It felt as though you yourself had lightened and for a moment you felt like you might be standing in a patch of sunlight until you remembered where you were.

How could music make you feel things so vividly?

You shivered slightly. This was the Devildom. Arsenios was a demon. Was there magic at work here?

You didn’t have time to ponder this. As soon as you realized that you were going to be late for class, you forced yourself to leave the hall. You were surprised at how difficult it was.

The next time you saw Arsenios in class, you paid attention. You couldn’t help sneaking glances at him, your curiosity piqued. You wondered if you observed him enough if you would be able to figure out why he had been playing the piano in the hall by himself.

You looked away quickly when he met your eyes. You had seen them long enough to note that they were dark purple with a circle of dark grey.

Life in the Devildom kept you busy. You were making pacts with the brothers, trying to keep up on your studies, and learning everything you could about demons in general. You didn’t really have time to consider a demon you only saw occasionally.

And yet you couldn’t help taking the long way to seductive speechcraft, passing by the empty dance hall on purpose. Many times, you heard the piano echoing through that empty place. And every time, you slipped inside, hiding again behind a column to listen in.

Arsenios never seemed to stop actually playing, flowing from one song to the next without a pause. You would listen for some time before sneaking out of the room again, on your way to your class.

-

The first time you spoke to him directly was after everything that happened with Belphie. You had settled into the routine of going to RAD, living at the House of Lamentation, and existing in the Devildom.

You were on your way to the Demon Lord’s Castle, on an errand for Lucifer, when Arsenios came out of the door, stopping short just before colliding with you.

You instantly remembered all the times you had watched him play the piano in the darkness of RAD’s dance hall. You never got close enough to see him quite as clearly as you did now.

He wasn’t wearing his uniform, instead dressed in a black button up and a pair of dark blue jeans. His hair was in a long braid, showing off the silver piercings in his ears.

Arsenios frowned at you. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. It was kind of a rude question, but you were so surprised to see him somewhere other than RAD.

Arsenios tilted his head. He smiled briefly. “What are you doing here?”

You held up the paperwork in your arms. “Making a delivery.”

Arsenios shook his head. “Working for the one brother you don’t have a pact with yet, huh? Are you hoping that’ll help?”

You frowned. “What? No. I’m just doing it because he asked.”

“Too nice, then,” Arsenios said. “Listen, MC. You should be careful. What you’re doing isn’t normal. Most humans don’t make pacts with multiple demons and even when they do, it’s a transaction, not a symbol of their close relationship.”

You huffed. “Why do you care?”

Arsenios studied you for a long moment and there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. It was about to become an awkward silence when he sighed. “Pacts are serious. I’m just telling you to be careful, that’s all. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my audience of one. Who would listen to me play at RAD?”

You nearly dropped the pile of paperwork in your hands. You felt the blush cross your face. “Y-you saw me? But your eyes are always closed!”

Arsenios laughed gently and the smile that lingered softened his features. “I didn’t need to have my eyes open to know you were there. Humans have a certain kind of sound. We only have two humans in the Devildom and I knew it wasn’t Solomon.”

You couldn’t look at him, suddenly extremely embarrassed that he had been aware of you hiding in the dark to listen to him play the piano all those times. “Uh, right. Well, um, I better get this stuff to Lord Diavolo, I’ll see you later-“

You were about to rush past him, but Arsenios put his hand on your arm to stop you. That was when you noticed the tattoo on the back of it. It looked like a pact mark - a black circle full of unusual symbols and runes. But you didn’t have time to contemplate it because when you looked up, your eyes met his and you felt frozen.

“Hey,” he said and his voice was gentle. “I don’t mind. In fact, it’s nice knowing that you’re there. Maybe next time, you won’t hide in the shadows.”

You stared at him for a moment, speechless. You tried to think of something to say. Before you could, he stepped away, waved a little and walked off down the path.

You watched him go for a moment, still somewhat dazed. Then you turned back to the castle entrance with determination.

You went through the door and made your way to Lord Diavolo’s office, mind racing. What was going on? Since when did demons fluster you like that? You'd been among the brothers long enough now that you were more than used to them.

It was because you thought he didn’t know. You thought he was unaware of you, hiding behind the columns to listen to him play.

But he had known all along. What had he said? My audience of one.

You schooled yourself before you encountered Diavolo or Barbatos or even one of the Little Ds. Then you paused because you had simply been walking, mind elsewhere, and you had no idea where you were. You sighed and began to backtrack.

-

You continued to hide behind the columns in the dance hall when you stopped to listen to Arsenios play. Whenever you heard those ringing notes, you slipped into the dark space, lingering in the shadows like a little ghost.

Every time, you thought he would acknowledge you. That he would say something about how you should come out from where you were hiding. To your surprise, he never did.

He never brought it up any other time, either. Arsenios was in a few of your classes, so you saw him sometimes. He never once said anything to you or acted like he knew you. However, you didn't get the feeling that he was deliberately ignoring you. It was more like he was keeping your secret.

You weren't sure how he felt about you. He seemed amused, but otherwise unconcerned.

It was your second year in the exchange program already. You found yourself somewhat occupied at the start with the play, distracted by learning your lines and rehearsing.

You didn't really have time to consider the dance that would follow afterward, opting not to go with any of the demons who asked you. You simply didn't have the emotional capacity to deal with the potential of them arguing over you.

The day of the dance arrived and you showed up with Solomon, just as friends. You were hanging around the drinks table awkwardly. There was Demonus, but of course you didn't experience any kind of inhibition from drinking it.

So you were fully aware of the presence of a demon at your side.

"Hey, MC," he said.

You looked over to see Arsenios standing beside you. He was in his RAD uniform, just as casual as ever with no tie and a handful of buttons undone. His hair was loose, flowing around his shoulders. He was smiling at you with a glass of Demonus in his hand.

"Hey," you said. It hadn't occurred to you that he would be here, but of course he was a student here, too. It was odd to see him here in the dance hall when the lights were on. Nobody seemed to be using the piano in the corner. The music was supplied by a DJ.

"Here alone?" Arsenios asked.

You looked around. "So are you."

Arsenios shrugged. "Touche."

"I was just busy from the play," you said. "Solomon is around here somewhere, but we just came as friends."

Arsenios put his glass down on the table and extended a hand to you. "In that case, would you like to dance?"

You looked at him for a moment, letting your eyes fall on the hand open so easily toward you. This was your chance to maybe get to know the demon whose music you so often listened to. You put down your own glass and took his hand.

"All right," you said.

Arsenios grinned and pulled you out onto the dance floor. He paused, waiting for your direction.

You stepped closer to him, putting your free hand on his shoulder. His other hand settled naturally on your waist.

"Do you know this song?" Arsenios asked.

You were only vaguely familiar with it. It was a Devildom song. Slow and a bit sad. "A little," you said.

"There's a dance that's specific to it," Arsenios said. "I can guide you through the steps if you want."

"Okay," you said. Your attention was on the feeling of his hand on your waist.

Arsenios moved you easily, the dance matching the song. It was slow, the movements smooth. You found you didn't need to know the steps. Somehow, you were simply doing what came naturally and it made you feel like you were gliding.

"You're good at this," you said.

Arsenios shrugged. "Music and dance are like the ocean and the shore. You can't have one without the other. Even if no song is playing, the person dancing hears it in their soul."

You were a little surprised to receive such a poetic answer.

"I know you've been back," Arsenios said. His voice had lowered in volume. It was close and intimate and suddenly the proximity of him made you flush a little. "I'm still waiting for you to stop hiding."

"Maybe I like being hidden," you said. "Maybe it's nice not to be the center of attention for once."

Arsenios blinked at this, as though he had never thought of things that way before. "I get it," he said. "If that's how you feel, then don't worry. You can hide with me whenever you want. I'll cover for you."

"What about you?" you asked. "Aren't you hiding, too? Playing that piano there in the darkness, all alone?"

Arsenios smiled. "I'm not always alone, though, am I?"

You frowned. "Don't avoid the question."

"All right," he said, laughing. "Maybe I'm hiding, too."

"What are you hiding from?" you asked.

Arsenios's smile remained, but you saw how it turned sad. "Clarity," he said. He was still looking at you, but his eyes seemed to be seeing something else. "Have you ever felt like there's a storm inside you? And rather than get out of the rain, you decide it's safer to sit in it?"

You weren't sure what to say to that. And you weren't sure if he really expected you to answer.

His eyes suddenly focused on you again. "It's easier to let things stay obscured sometimes."

You frowned slightly. "Are you sure?"

Arsenios seemed like he was going to say something, but the song ended and a new one began to play. He smiled again, letting go of your waist, but not your hand, and stepping back just a little.

"Thanks for the dance, MC," he said. He leaned over your hand and briefly pressed his lips to the back of it. His hair brushed against you as he let go and moved back. "I'll see at you at RAD."

You didn't even have a chance to respond before he was gone, moving across the floor between other dancing students easily. You turned away and worked to fight down the blush that had sprung up onto your cheeks as you made your way back to the drinks table. Demonus wouldn't help you the way actual alcohol would, but it was better than nothing.

Solomon was already waiting for you with two glasses. You didn't say anything to him as you took one and downed it.

What was Arsenios hiding from? It almost sounded like he was hiding from himself.

masterpost | chapter two

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[xjulixred45x]

If it's okay can I please ask for platonic yandere Choso for kianna komori and Yui komrei

Like say he meet both girls through his little brother helping them get away from the organization that tried to kidnap them and use their blood and kianna becomes a sorcerer to protect her sister but Choso soon finds out that she's his niece

And he grows paranoid of losing her since he already lost his brothers and in his eyes all he has left is Yuji and kianna and Yui

But he's especially paranoid about losing kianna

Because in his eyes she's just a little girl that he needs to protect even though she can defend herself

CHOSO MAAAAAAN! considerate it done hun.

Platonic Yandere! Choso x Kianna Komori! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female/OC Kianna of @nunezs-stuff

Warnings: PLATONIC YANDERE BEHAVIOR, obsesive behavior, Paranoid Behavior, overprotection, Choso doesn't know how human relationships work and that leads to his downfall, unhealthy mentality, mentions of self-harm(reader), PTSD, lore of the Ocs of Nunezs, I think that's all.

You didn't have much growing up.

No, it wasn't because we needed food and shelter, but because they always made you take a backseat compared to your older sister, especially your father.

He was a very strict man, very serious, he ignored you most of the time, and when he didn't...you wished he would, making your life impossible.

Despite everything, at least you had your older sister. She was always kind to you, she tried to avoid conflicts between you and her father, she gave you her clothes or lent them to you, etc.

She took care of you the best she could, so to speak.

He was also the one who helped you when you started seeing "things"

At first they were small and seemingly defenseless, but after a while more and more appeared... they were curses that were attracted to your cursed energy.

You didn't bother to talk to your father about it, you thought he would think you had already lost your mind.

although if you told Yui, she could see them too, although they definitely didn't follow her as much as they followed you.

You discovered on your own how to use your cursed energy, even if it was in a basic way, it was complicated, but you even managed to develop certain bases for your Cursed ritual.

You felt powerful with these new abilities, special even. You believed that now you could defend yourself better from what the world tried to do with you.

But unfortunately that did not save any of you from what your father had prepared.

You don't remember much, although it did seem strange to you that your father brought them food, looking back, he must have drugged it.

and when you woke up, your sister was with you in a new place.

You and your sister were given as a "sacrifice" to a kind of trafficking network that your father worked for.

The bastard abandoned you two...

Even if the experience there was absolute hell, you were able to gather some information with your sister about WHY they had been chosen.

It turns out that neither of them were completely human, but hybrids of human and curse.

For the same reason, you had a hyper-developed cursed technique and your sister, apparently, the ability to heal and increase the Cursed energy of others with her own blood.

You didn't like this.

your "real" father was apparently dead, it was a curse, one of Noritoshi Kamo's experiments.

part of his 10 cursed creations..

Fortunately for you and your sister, they were rescued by sorcerers. or rather, a young sorcerer, a little younger than you.

Yuji Itadori.

I practically took them both out running and without a problem, I took them to the academy and to have a check-up with Shoko.

Fortunately nothing serious, but the experience definitely left its marks.

You felt very...helpless throughout the whole situation, even when you were rescued, that persisted.

so you made a risky decision.

become a sorceress.

You managed to improve your cursed technique (related to blood) and learn more about the world of Jujustu in general.

Even if you were capable, you were only a rookie when all the sorcerers were called to help in Shibuya...

Choso knew from the beginning that there was something strange about you and your sister...

something... familiar.

Not only was the way You two looked familiar to him, but there were several coincidences that couldn't leave his head.

the most important, your damn technique. very similar to Maku's.

Even if this tormented Choso by reminding him of his lost brother, it couldn't distract him from avenging the other two.

but he didn't expect to meet you during the Shibuya incident.

or rather, the two of you together, you and your sister, trying to give medical reinforcements to the other sorcerers.

Choso only watched for a solid minute, frozen, watching them work, taking advantage of the fact that they didn't see him yet.

They reminded him a lot of Maku, his brother.

brother I should have protected...

like Kechiku and Esou....

Choso came back to reality and realized that maybe the best thing would be to kill you and your sister, it would be problematic to have them around curing sorcerers.

but as soon as he prepared to attack, it happened AGAIN.

memories that NEVER happened...

this time not only with his brothers and Yuji, but also with YOU TWO...with Maku...

but You two didn't call him brother.

but UNCLE...

Now everything made sense...

the powers...the appearance...everything...

After Choso goes through his existential crisis and tries to go after Kenjaku and fails at the end of the Shibuya arc, he also tries to properly introduce himself to you and your sister.

Obviously at first you were very skeptical. your sister the same. but Choso was insistent and above all, sincere.

even if you barely knew him, you felt kind of bad for him.

so they let him make his way into their lives.

Your sister taught him basic human customs, even sharing some information about his brother, your original father.

Choso saw a lot of Maku in you physically and in your sister in the form of a sweet and motherly attitude.

which made the feeling of protection skyrocket.

Little by little this feeling, within the limits of protection towards you and your sister, evolved into something more...darker...so to speak.

Choso became quite paranoid since his brothers, okay? You didn't blame him for that, you constantly justified it because the poor man had lost his brothers in a short period of time.

you just thought it was his way of dealing with things...besides you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the attention he gave you and your sister.

being treated WELL after YEARS of being ignored and despised... Great change that, he REALLY loved you, you were willing to tolerate certain attitudes that were somewhat out of place.

This only made Choso's tendencies worsen considerably, because since there were no obvious signs of displeasure (not being used to good treatment in the first place), Choso began to show more yandere attitudes.

He became quite clingy, which while it wasn't bad per se, it was definitely uncomfortable for you at first, you weren't used to this type of contact other than your sister.

but again you let it go thinking it was just Choso having no idea what personal space was.

although Choso definitely almost lost it when he saw your old marks of self-harm.

he was so??? Why would you hurt yourself? because??? What can he do to help you? Who does he have to kill?

From there, he becomes considerably more observant with you and hardly leaves you alone, it is a level in which you have almost no privacy.

Choso constantly tries to convince you to leave the Sorceress job, because now that he is here he can provide for both of us, he will try to get your sister to side with him, even if she doesn't, I can see him trying to convince you based on because it is for your good and hers.

Even if you notice the Red Flags at this point, does it really matter? Choso, even with his questionable attitudes, has cared more about you and your sister than the people who supposedly claimed to do so, he protects them from everything and above all, he sincerely LOVES them.

At least Choso has never lied to you! or has done questionable things to get you on his side! He's not that kind of person...

Right?

In general, he is an extremely soft platonic Yandere, who will do whatever it takes to protect the little family he has left.

at all costs.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request!❤️ Now i'm going to sleep--