#i was inspired cause i came across a fic and it surprised me how well the author writes em! especially wally

[flowermist7432]

ive been trying to practice reading outloud for long periods of time so i can do my hobby of wanting to make audiobooks.

and so of course I did it via reading a (really well done i may add) Welcome Home fanfic. So i have 12+ minutes recording of me doing Welcome Home character impressions, narration and background cafe music. My throat is absolutely fried ❤️ Drinking water 👍

[ladyoftheblades]

HEIR APPARENT

jacaerys velaryon x aegonstwin!reader

synopsis: the realm worships firstborns, seconborn children however, especially girls, need to make their own way in the world

words: 11k (bear with me)

a/n: i realised this after i finished and was too bored to correct it, imagine rhanenyra didnt have time to propose marrige beyween reader and jacaerys due to driftmark. ALSO i havent watched the dinner scene in 2 years and i cannot find it on the sites so excuse any unorthodoxy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE im also dyslexic :) !!!!! this was heavil inspired by the lovely @myladysapphire 's fic "seduction" which you should go read warnings: some gaslighting, dry humping, fingering, heavy petting, making out, intoxication

the birth of a child is a joyus occasion for any ordinary family, for the royal house targaryen ... not always.

it was a sunny summer day when the queen alicent went into labour, the sun shined its golden rays upon the keep making its redstone material even more beautifull. while the festivities of the tourney in the babes honor roared outside, the noise and cheers and laughter penetrated the keeps walls, filling the rooms with the joy of the celebration. all rooms but one.

alicent screamed and whrithed with the unimaginable pain of labour. viserys walked up the stairs with a newfound excitement, yet, as he reached the door of his wifes rooms he stopped. the weight of his pursuit of an heir, the one than killed his first wife hit him like an angry wave. cold sweat ran across his forhead. no, his beloved aemmas life was not in vain, rhaenyra would sit the throne, he rationalized. straightening his posture, he oppened the door.

every minute felt like eons for viserys. by the grace of the gods the babe arrived quickly. "a son, your grace" said the maester. music to viserys ears. a midwife handed him the swaddled babe. "welcome to the family aegon"said the king. enamoured by his son, it took a second before he heard his wife groaning again. "another babe !" exclaimed the maester. "another blessing" chimed in the midwife. and thus, a girl was born.

that was how the princess came into the world. a little surprise for her family. a little unwanted surprise.

as the princess grew up that was the word that defined her existance, unwanted. not abused,no, but she was not the first boy, not the heir, not even the spare. just another girl.

she came to understand her position very well, quiet and demure, refusing to cause any fuss around her existance for no one else did.

especially not her older sister rhaenyra. despite the little girls admiration for her, rhaenyra never spared her a second glance.she did not mistreat her younger sister by any means, just too busy being heir and having children of her own. she had no time for a child that was unwanted in the first place.

Her father on the other hand, downright ignored her. the excitement of having a son consumed him in those first years after their birth. there was no love left for her. soon, even that ran out and it was as if her and her brother never existed.

it did not matter though, she found solace in her other family. the queen alicent loved her daughter dearly, not absolved of ignoring her at times in favour of her brother, but it was ok, she did far more than any other. attached by the hip to aegon,they did everyting together, it was only natural, the realm viewed her as nothing but an extension of him anyway.

by the time her twelfth nameday came to be, it was widely accepted she would be married to her twin. though young she understood the implications of such a proposal. aegon, her fathers long awaited male heir, would be king and she his queen. the idea rooted in her mind. queen of the realm. the most influential woman of the seven kingdoms. it rooted and festered untill her rambition consumed her everymost descision. to her, it was only fair. all the attention she was denyed in her childhood would be atoned for. she would finaly get what she deserved.

the gods had other plans though. more like, otto hightower had other plans. rhaenyra proposed a betrothal between helaena, alicents secondborn and jacaerys her firstborn. to alicent it was an insult, one that had to be prevented by any means.

it was not difficult for otto to get the king to agree to marry helaena and aegon instead. to the king it made no difference, the affairs of his daughters whose name were not rhaenyra did not matter.

:readmore:

the news reached the princess on her way to driftmark for her aunt laenas funeral. ser otto hightower, upon the queens incistance, was tasked with breaking the news.

"that is not fair!" she shouted toward her grandsire, franticaly moving around, her erratic movements exaderated by those of the ship. "oh hush child, you know better than anyone nothing is promised in this life" he responded, calm, collected, slightly irritated.

"but i heard it, mother and lord larys, saying the marrige would sway the kind toward changing the succesion". Suddently otto rose from his seat. the princess was throwing a tantrum, a dangerous one. if word were to reach the king about their scheming to strip rhaenyra of her heritage, it could cost both his and his daughters heads. "now how did you hear such a thing?". the air had shifted, the calmnes in his voice replaced by more irritation and something new. fear, perhaps ?

"it... it matters not how i came upon the information it matters that i now know. so please explain to me why i ought to be cast aside in this way. i am a princess !"

"so is your sister. you love your sister, do you not?" "i do... but i was promided something and i plan to see it realised" diplomatic words for a child, otto thought.

"it does not matter though does it ? you understand rhaenyra is heir, yes ?" she nodded. "and your goal, as i understand, is to be queen, yes ?" he had now moved from where he was standing and was sitting next to her on the sette. she nodded again.

"you know of the favouritism your father shows rhaenyra, as he sees it she is his only child, therefore his only heir"

"but-but father wanted a son, he should be the heir" startled by ottos movements, her initial anger turned to silent disapointment, her little face pouting. "do not go around running your mouth saying such things" he responded hurriedly "you may be a princess but your neck is in as much danger as anyones" he turned to look into her eyes

"we understand the way things are, your father however is blinded by his grief. aegon is not heir, his wife will not be queen. you would not acquire the power you seek either way."

"i understand...".

Satisfied with himself for having stiffled his granddaughters tantrum, he turned away once again. "now you are free to take a husband of your choise, to seek love, is that not what all young maidens dream of ?" her pouting face remained. "love is nothing in the absence of power" otto chuckled, if only his daughter had shared that same mindset. the dragon was more hightower than he thought. "in what book did you read that now".

Before she could answer a knock sounded at the door. the queen entered, sir criston in toe. "we are to dock soon, return to your siblings at once little one" said alicent, somewhat taken aback by the sight of her dughter and father side by side. "yes your grace" said the little girl before quickly exiting.

alicent turned to her father. "i trust you were not corrupting her with any of your sheming" she stated, matter-of-factly. "trust me daughter, i did not need to... be more careful when speaking with the small council from now on, the walls have eyes in the red keep"

after docking the little princess was going through the motions of royal protocol as if possesed, certainly lacking the sort of queenly air shed carried herself with up untill that point. it no longer mattered. her dreams were shattered, all she ever wanted, all she ever hoped for, gone, in a single boat trip.

vaemond spoke yet none of his words reached her. she looked to her sister rhaenyra from across the procession. the vision of a queen, long silver hair braided in the fashions of the queen rhaenys. hugging her children close to her arms, arms meant to hold her.

no matter how much she attempted to push these feelings down, to pretend, her sisters indifference hurt, now more than ever. the longer she studied rhaenyra and the longer rhaenyra refused to spare her a single glance, she got more and more depressed. so much so she did not notice a pair of big brown eyes next to rhaenyra staring right at her.

after the procession was completed the guests started mingling, lords discussing deals, families exchanging condolances and such. as a princess of the realm she was excpected to offer her condolances to the family of the deceased, she walked forth to greet her cousins, baela and rhaena, the dragon twins. normally it would be a chance to excersise her queenly grace, now it was but another motion. "im sorry for your mother, my condolances." she spat out. "thank you, cousin" replied baela. rhaena was solemn, only looking at her shoes. her nephews standing next to her, she could not care less.

having fulfilled her duty she left without a word. no one would pay attention to the thorn of house targaryen anyway. and none did. except for those same brown eyes from earlier.

as she walked further and further away from the crowd she was greeted by the salty driftmark air. the rough cliffs and architecture were opposite of the red keeps. but it was a welcome change, the red keep was a place of lies and dissapointment.

eventually she reached a small nook amongs the salty castle walls. finally some respite. she sat on the ground and took a deep breath.silence. yet peace did not last long. soon footsteps sounded, coming toward her, untill they stopped.

she looked up. a young boy of dark eyes and darker hair. jacerys velaryon. the firstborn of her firstborn sister. his features struck her even more from up close. she knew the rumors. alicent spoke of them constantly when she thought she was not listening. she may have perpatuated some of them herself, on those bad days her sisters rejection particularly stung. she never thought of jacerys, never spoke to him, as far as she was concerned he was only an extension of her sister.

"what do you want ?" she spat courtly. "i dunno"replied jacaerys.

"its your aunts funeral you should be with your mother and siblings" "dont want to."

cautiously, he sat next to her. they stayed there a while, siletly staring at the wild waves ahead. it was...strangely comfortable. jacerys was born a few years after her and despite their both growing up in the red keep togerher, they rarely spoke. he knew nothing of his familys distaste for her, a stranger to the sins surrounding her name, ther girl doubted his mother spoke of her. to him she was practicaly a stranger.

after a while sitting in this comfortable silence, he dared speak up. "should we head back ?". "you should, i doubt anyone noted my absence"

"why ?" his voice rung with something unfamiliar to her, something akin to...concern. "you cannot note the absence of something you took no notice of in the first place" replied she solemnly. the emotion in her voice surprised even herself, something about this boy moved her. the princess did not like it. "i took notice, i mean, i followed you here" she felt his eyes on the side of her face yet did not dare return his gaze. "...thank you jacerys. why did you follow me ?"

"i thought you looked lonely" if shed turned her head sideways the princess would note him blushing. the comfortable silence returned.

prince jacerys knew not of this feeling bubbling in his chest. he had noticed his aunt during the funeral. he always took notice of her. walking around the keep, catching glimpses of her in the library after finishing her studies. his favourite part of training was gazing upon her form, framed by helaenas window, the yard had a perfect view. he always noticed her, always saw her, even when she looked elswere. his mother never bothered formally introducing them, rarely ever spoke of her. neither did his grandsire. he never went out of his way to greet her either, out of fear or nerves he did not know.

today was his window of opportunity. rhaenyra had sent him to comfort his cousins yet he could not take his mind off of his aunt. when she came and greeted baela, walking away right after, it was perfect. quickly, he dismissed himself and slipped away from everyone. the vision of her walking the tumoltous balconies of driftmark, silver hair blowing in the wind, she looked like a vision, calling him to her side. and now here he was.

neither of them knew how long they sat like that. they only knew of the feelings flowing between them. a strange sense of comfort. eventually though they had to return. she stood up first. "come on, we must head back, your mother is worried about you"

heading back they were greeted by no rhaenyra and no daemon. before jacerys could speak a word to the princess she vanished. he joined his cousins once again, they spoke to him yet he heard none of it, silently staring at the direction she dissapeared.

the princess awoke the next morning, having slept soundly that night, a certain strong face haunting her dreams. she arose from her bed and went to call for her handmaidens, yet stepping outside the room, no guard was present, confused and still foggy from sleep she put on a robe and began walking toward her good-sister helaenas room, not far from her own. stepping inside she found her sister blankly staring out of the window, not unusual for helaena. what was unusual was her complete unacnoledgment of her. cautiously she approached the window. "helaena, sister, what has happened ?" "he closed an eye.." her sister was always a bit odd, most brushed her strange words off, but the princess understood the importance of her strange visions

"helaena, please speak it to me plainly, who closed an eye ?" helaena tore her gaze from the scenery outside, vast uneasy brown eyes staring into her sisters

"aemond claimed vhagar late last night, lucerys took his eye in return"

years passed since that fateful night in driftmark. the night the house of the dragon official split in two. the two factions came to be known as the greens and the blacks.

she had grown, childhood long gone -if it ever existed-, now matured into a young woman. what never left was her feelings of betrayal. aegon and helaenas wedding took place not long after driftmark, and though she loved her sister deeply, jealousy ran deep. helaena was a fool who was handed an opportunity she could not comprehend. it took her some time to get over that day but she did, she had to.

despite ottos words on the boat, she knew better. after driftmark the greens scheming became more obvious. though she wasnt privy to all information, she knew their plans. stupid stupid otto hightower. he told her it did not matter, he told her all the things she wanted to hear, needed to hear. she hated herself for falling for his honeyed words. she was only a girl of two and ten but still. she ought to have known better. maybe, if she had put more pressure onto alicent she would have won. her resentment grew into a monster, wild and untameable, feeding on her want for the throne.

there was one other consequence of that day, she never got to see jacerys again. she never thought it would bother her before, but it did. that day, the words he spoke to her, his tone, the genuine concern laced in every sentance haunted her dreams. she dared not think about him while awake, fearful of what conclusions she may reach.

fate is funny in its ways. the uncertain parentage of rhaenyras children officialy came into question.

her sisters reckless behaviour came to bite her in the rear, the spoiled firstborn finally was to get a taste of consequences. not only that, the petitions for driftmark would require the entire family be present,including jacerys. not that she cared, no.

the view of dragons and ships approaching kings landing was perfect from the princesses window. syrax and caraxes landed near the dock, soon the family ship followed. the rest of the way they made by carrige. the lack of reception for the heir and her husband was the princesses own idea. a small revenge.

she dared not venture to the courtyard for she knew her nephews would be there. waiting instead to face them officially in the throne room.

not many are privy to the red keeps secret passageways, she was one of the lucky few. in order to avoid the courtyard she followed one such secret hall to cut through the godswood and immedietly into the throne room.

fate, as stated before, is very humorous.walking through the godswood she was greeted by her most favourite guest, rhaenyra. as her sister stood in the courtyard, for the first time in her life the princess saw her for what she was, a scared mother, a woman who knew she had a mess of her own making to clean up. there was no need for approval from such a pathetic creature.

"sister" greeted the young princess. rhaenyra turned to face her. "ah, dear sister, how are you fairing ?" dear, wow the gaul

"i am...well, it is nice of you to ask, even if for the first time." the sarcasm did not go unnoticed by rhaenyra. "times change sweet sister, attitudes are as moveable as the tides, especially within family" the tone those words were spoken in dripped with false sweetness, if it were another day she would have lapped it up, not today. today, she understood they came not from a genuine place but from a need of support.

"when family comes into question, the tides of opportunity roar, i see" surprised by her sisters words, rhaenyra stepped closer.

"i fear the circumstances of our reunion, of my arrival, are unfortunate, that does not mean we need be hostile to eachother" the younger scoffed

"the only times we reunite are under unfortunate circumatsnces. last we spoke i cannot remember, i actually cannot recall a time you struck up a conversation with me. only now, concerned with your sons succesion, when you require my help, we speak"

rhaenyra was surprised, more surprised than shed been in her life. she thought her relationship with her sister was what it had to be, what was required, the rift between their family was much vaster than shed realised.

"i am sorry for any pain i have caused you, please, let us discuss this in a manner befiting of family, i promise i am not what these people have told you" she reached for her sisters hand, immedietly the younger pulled away.

"these people are my family, more my family than you have ever been. do not worry sister i would not concern you with anything beneath what befits you. we need only talk if it concerns the crown.please, do not pretend to care for me as family again, ypur idifference hurts but false concern is a pain i cannot manage" rhaenyra opened her mouth to speak but could not find the words.

"goodbye, dear sister. i look forward to hearing your petition." and with those words she left, fighting the urge to turn back and look at the face of the one who hurt her the most every step of the way.

jacaerys stepped off the carrige and into the ground of the red keep with a goal, to see his aunt again. he had grown into a capable and gracious young man in their time apart. she haunted his thoughts and steps toward adulthood in a way he could not describe. it was not love, he atleast did not think so, more like a strange hunger to see her again.

it scared him to think about. why was this longing so deeply rooted in his chest ?

with lucerys by his side they stepped forward into the familiar courtyard. immediently he gazed upon that same window he knew he may catch a glipse of her in. yet no one was there. it was silly to think someone would. why was his mind like this ?

lucerys must have noticed his wandering glances, nudging his side. "what ?" replied jacaerys. "are you ill brother ?". he had never spoken a word to anyone, not about that day in driftmark, the events of that night far too heavy to bring up,certainly not of his confusing feelings for the princess.

"im fine lucerys, are you feeling well ? it is a difficult day we have ahead of us, for you most of all" "im fine."

he was not fine, but it was best not to press on. lucerys had to deal with his emotions on his own,as did he.

the throne room had not changed since last he visited. he and his family stood on one side while the other slowly filled with hightowers and green supporters.

suddently, there she was.

the princess targaryen. her blueish green gown only exagerated her beautyful fratures, long silver hair shining, adorned by intricate braids and golden jewlery. she looked like she hung the sun in the sky. his eyes were trained on her form, not moving an inch, commiting every detail to memory, afraid shed disapear again and take the light with her. and then, against all odds, she returned his gaze.

it was like seeing the deep blue waves of the ocean again after years in the desert. jacerys vlaryon, in all his glory. looking back at her. she dared not tear her eyes away from his familiar brown ones. they stood there, surrounded by people yet alone locked in time.

eventually, otto hightower announced the start of the pettitions, and jacerys had to tear his gaze away. it was not a bad thing though, it allowed the princess to study his features more closely. despite his dark brown locks and eyes there was something uniquely targaryen about the boy, fair skin and aqualine valyrian nose betraying his heritage. he looked like the carbon of his mother. it scared her, it scared her because his resemblance did not deter her emotions at all, if anything it made her heart soften toward her sister. no man should hold such power over her.

the petitions went on and on but she heard few words far and in between,eyes focused on her nephew. periodicaly he returned her gaze studying her with equal intensity, alternating between commiting her to memory and comforting his brother.

for the fist time in her life she allowed herself to think of him in detail. she imagined how he would look speaking to her, hearing his voice, changed by the years, matured, deep, rich, manly. she though of his and when she tired she thought of them together. strolling through the gardens, flying on their dragons, sitting together... waking up next to him, walking the altar toward him.

and for the fist time it hit her.

all these years and yet her father had not changed his mind about the succesion once. not once did his resolve to put rhaenyra on the throne falter. aegon would never be king, helaena never queen, so long as the current kings will persevered. but it did not have to signal the end of her queenly ambition. jacaerys was rhaenyras firstborn, her first son and therefore heir. as far as the princess knew, he was unmarried and yet to be betrothed to anyone.

the window of opportunity so violently closed by otto on their was to driftmark suddently was wide open again. she could marry jacaerys and finally be queen, finally get what she wanted. ofcourse it would mean she would have to support her sister. every end had its means. so be it.

making up with her sister would be difficult, yet something about their conversation earlier told her it might not be impossible. the answer to her ambitions was infront of her all these years, jacaerys was the key.

euphoria filled her limbs making her mind hazy. floating on a bed of feathers, gears already turning in her mind paving the path that would lead her to jacarys. but good things never last.

princess rhaenys was speaking her peace when suddently

"the princess rhaenyra has informed me of her intentions to wed her son jacaerys and lucerys, to my granddaughters baela and rhaena, a proposad to which i wholeheartedly agree."

what. what. jacaerys and ... baela. she looked upon the ceiling of the throne room as if seeking the heavens, vying for the attention of the seven, whty did fate punish her so ?. ofcourse, why would she get what she wanted ?

she looked toward baela, a look of confidence and satisfaction gracing her features, eyes trained on jacaerys. she dared not look at him, she wanted not to know how he felt of this arrangement.

did he know ? had he agreed to it beforehand ? she could have sworn those looks he gave her earlier meant something. but this was now more than just her feeling toward him. this was about her gtting what she wanted, getting her throne.

jacaerys and baela ? no, that would not do. she was no longer that wide eyed girl, easily dettered by words of her elders, easily manipulated into complying with others wishes. one betrothal was torn away from her, not again. she would wed jacaerys she decited then and there, using any means necessary.

jacaerys heard his grandmothers words the same as his aunt. he was somewhat aware of their plans to betroth him to baela, but hearing them, actually hearing them, spoken in the presance of the king, it was another thing entirely.

he briefly looked to baela. she seemed very content with the arrangemend. the same could not be said about him. his aunt had been the sole person to hold his affections thus far. as much affection as a stranger across the bay could, atleast.

why was he so dissapointed ? was he even dissapointed ? did he really think there was any merrit to his feelings for the princess ? they shared one conversation all those years ago. whereas he and baela had a solid relatioship, a friendship, one that could be built upon. hed thought about the betrothal in the past, he could find some semblances of feeling in his heart for his cousin.

yet everytime hed thought of baela, another crossed his mind.

no, that would not do. his aunt was beautifull, yes, maybe it was just that, her beauty that bewitched him, the air of mystery around her. it was pointless to assign any meaning to it, he descited. he was a prince of the realm. he would preform his duty to baela and to his mother as best he could. childish fancy would have to be put to sleep.

a targaryen event without atleast one murder is considered a dull afair. thankfully they had daemon to provide entertainment.

the king had once again shamelessly supported his firstborn. for a rotting corpse, he sure was determined. the death of vaemond velarion signaled the end of the pettitions. lucerys would inherit driftmark along with his cousin rhaena.

rhaenyra would inherit the throne and in turn jacarys along with baela. not if she had a say.

with the first lord to step foot outside of the throne room her plan was set into motion. the alegiance between the blacks and the velaryons was strong, but not unbreakable. her sister was an honorable woman, a good mother, but a less than conscious politician. logic and aliances would not sway her, love however would.

the princess knew rhaenyra would reside in her chambers untill the family dinner planned for that night. a little snooping, more like a little talk with her ladies maid, told her daemon would join his old friends in the gold cloaks for the afternoon. after their talk, the princess and her handmaiden were to each take their leave. "oh, alia, i requre your help with one more thing" the maid turned "anything for you m'lady"

"i need you to place a rumor.."

with no warning, no knock, the young princess stepped into her sisters chambers. to say rhaenyra was surprised was an understatement.

"sister, what- what brings you here ?" the younger stepped further into the room. "i understand our talk earlier was not to your liking" she began, looking to her sisters eyes graced by an unreadable excpression.

"well, you made your wishes clear, i thought you would not wish to see me unless it was necessary. it gladens me you here though, please, take a seat" ever so polite. the sisters sat across from eachother on the chambers table, for the first time together of their own volition.

"do not misunderstand me, i would not have come here unless it was of the utmost urgency. as it stands matters of the crown plague me" rhaenyra looked concerned, what matters could the crown possibly have than were not directly concerning her ?

rhaenyra remained quiet, waiting to for the younger to show her hand before she revealed hers. "i heard today the proposal you offered princess rhaenys, to be frank, it is foolish." rhaenyra was yet to understand the road her sister was going down on, she remained quiet.

"keeping aliances strong is of upmost importance if you wish to secure your claim, however quality cannot completely trump quantity..."

"what are you saying, sister ?" sister finally,without the dear, bold. yet the younger remained quiet, pouring herself a cup of the wine placed upon the table. she was bold but her plan bolder, it required taming of the nerves. the longer the silence stretched on the uneasier the elder became.

"what do you want ?' asked rhaenyra finally.

"i want what you want, what we all want" rhaenyra understood finally.

"you wish to sit the iron throne then ? is it the reason behind your questioning my alliances ?" she grew irritated of the youngers antics, tired of the years being used soely for her birthright, her confusion twisting now into anger.

"you would think so, but no" she took a big swig of her wine "i want a family, my family, united. you saw the lords today, you saw my grandsire. you may think fathers support is sufficient, but he will to be around for long. there will come a time, sooner than latter, when you will be without your biggest ally, and the house of the dragon will be torn apart once and for all"

rhaenyra shook her head "i am the rightfull heir, the lords of the realm know who they swore an oath to. i have no need of you false concern."

"attitides are as moveable as the tides, the lords will rally behind whomever they believe benefits them most, oaths be damned. our family will be in shambles, you must prevent that, we must prevent that" she moved now, a mix of wine and sudden confidence moving her legs from her initial seat to the one next to her sister.

"wed me to jacaerys" rhaenyras confusion returned. she poured herself a cup and downed it in one go. "and why would i do that ? your void threats ?" "i can support you and your efforts best. rhaenyra looked toward the fireplace, turning her body opposite of her sisters. "moonfyre is a formidable dragon, and my mother may yet be swayed if we work together"

"i tried once, to ally myself with the green counsil, they refused. besides , it will be an insult to the house velaryon, an insult to my daughter."

"i am not the green counsil, i am your sister." mirroring rhaenyras earlier movements in the godswood, she took her sisters hands into hers. only unlike earlier, her sister did not move. "i know you have cast me aside, since i first came into the world. yet as a girl i wished every night with every prayer for you to see me, finally see me." rhaenyras eyes as if possesed found her own. an understanding started to bloom.

"i have longed to be by both you and jacaerys from afar all these years, let us not be enemies, do justice by our targaryen name. if not for an aliance for all you feel toward me as you sister. i have thought of everything, you need only say yes."

rhanyra ture her gaze and hands away once again, pouring them both another cup of wine, hoping her eyes would not betray her inner conflict. the sisters took their respective cups, drinking in silence.

"i knew not of these.. feelings you describe and for that im sorry." rhaenyra dared speak up. "i cannot give you the yes you seek but if truly your plans are as solid as you describe them, i have no way of stopping you" not a victory but not a defeat. "thank you, dear sister"

rumors have a way of spreading in the red keep. a phenomenon unlike any other. you could take your carridge for a visit to the great sept a maiden and return a whore. what a sinnfull and dishonorable thing. but what a usefull one to those who know to utilise it.

the queen alicent was enjoying a quiet evening after the very eventfull petitions. helaena on her left, embroidering a spider on one of the childrens tunics, said children on the floor playing with their toys, and her, reading "seven histories of seven prayers" all was at peace.

alicent finished her book and made a moved to acqure another, the library was near, she could go and be back in less than a feather sweep. excusing herself from the company of her family, she moved to do just that. the halls of the keep were never to the queens liking, much prefering those of her home, alas she navigated them, low sound of chatter radiating off of each room. gossiping was a sin, one the queen refused to indulge in but the day had other plans.

passing through her eldest daughters chambers she caught wind of words that shocked her. cautiously she moved closer to the door, hoping her ears were playing tricks.

"i mean can you believe it ? what a sandal, our princess and rhaenyras son ? oh the insult" said one of her daughters ladysmaids "alia, i am yet to understand, how could our lady fraternise with that family, they have not seen them in years" replied another "im not saying now, maya, back then, at driftmark"

"i heard it was the reason for the princes fight, prince aemond attacked jacarys for dishonoring his sister, thats how he lost his eye" replied another.

"and what of todays betrothal ? the queen would never allow such dishonor befall her daughter" "thats the fun part maya, the queen knows none of it, as for the princess baela, she has recently received proposals from the north, house tully and house stark, however, princess rhaenyra forced her hand to prevent herself allying with the greens" replied the voice of alia.

"i believe none of it, how could you come upon such information ?"replied the unnamed voice again "the cook, told me he overheard an exchange between the young prince and his betrothed.."

the queen stepped back, her breathing laboured. they were way off mark for driftmark, that was certain. but what if there was truth behind their words ? it would not be unheard of. most rumors around the keep stemmed from some truth

still, the queen had faith in her daughter. aegon was a rake, sure, but he inherited all of the rebelion in the woumb, her daughter was as pure as freshly fallen snow. seeking lord larys council would be an option but the queen feared what he would ask for in return. no. she was no fool, she would seek for herself the truth.

the dinner was an idiotic idea. alas, the head that defies the king does not stay attatched to its body for long. the young princess sat at the head of the table along with aemond, already nursing her third cup of wine. it burned going down but not more than her mothers gaze did. she knew.

her mothers gaze threatened to melt her face off but it was not what hurt most. jacaerys and baela sat next to eachother, exchanging laughs and pleasantries. if the wine did not cause her to vomit, they would. just a little bit longer, a little more patience, she would get jacaerys and the throne and baela the door.

the night went on oddly calmly. until the speeches began.

king viserrys took the lead. "we have a cause of celebration it seems. jace and luke will be married to their cousins,baela and rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses"

if the princesses eyes rolled any further back into her head she would see her brain. she looked to jacaerys, his eyes on her, only to immedietly be torn away once she looked back.

the king continued with his heartfelt speech, somewhere among the words of uniting the house of the dragon, rhaenyra and her sister locked eyes, the understanding between them having bloomed into a garden. her fathers worlds were certainly the missing piece to convincing rhaenyra of the betrothal.

rhaenyra took her turn followed by alicent, heartfelt words betraying the affections the two still shared. jacaerys was next. despite him talking about aegon and aemond his eyes fell on her periodically, never too long though. as if looking at her too long would turn him to stone. his fear was evident, but was it brought about by alicents menacing stare, or .... his own emotions ?

it was better not to mangle matters of the heart with those of the crown, she had to remind herself, despite her chest thumping with every glance. helaena gave her speech, toasting the happy couple yet again. her words on marrige brought about a sense of uneasines to everyone. rhaena, bless her heart, made an attempt to mend the situation "it leaves you, cousin. have you any suitors ?".

rhaenyra tensed, alicent even more so but most of all jacaerys. his stiffness caused baelas concern, who nudged him lightly. her movement laboured no reaction from the prince, she turned instead to find the object of his gaze, none other than his aunt.

"n-no, not of yet im afraid..." she gave her best semblance of a calm reply. rhaenyra, feeling bad and still mindfull of their earlier conversations, took the liberty of replying "it is best not to worry about these things, you may yet find your affection in unlikely places"

alicent gave a blank stare, she moved her mouth to speak but was interrupted, by none other than daemon. "best not to wait though, my dear, a young lady may fall to her charms only for so long..." his words earned him hateful looks and one of firm diaproval from his wife. his eyes however, gleamed playfully, ever the provocatour. daemon knew.

she could not hold back her emotions if she wanted. opting to give a small, sad smile, for an answer would surely betray her tears. she looked to jacaerys. this time his eyes unapologeticaly on her, looking to her form with raw pitty. helaena took her hand and aemond gave her a small pat on the arm. alicents anger was on the brink of overflowing.

before the queens wrath could be unleashed upon demon, the king groaned in pain, immedietly he was escorted away by the guards. the family was left in shambles, once again. yet the evening was far from over. rhaenyra ordered for music to be played, more courses arriving at the table. the princess cared for none of it, the plan was working, yet daemons words stung all the same.

a hand appeared next to her, asking to dance. looking up to find the owner, she found none other than jacaerys velaryon. she stood up quickly, ignoring her mothers gaze, taking it into hers.

the unwanted child of house targaryen, she was unused to being shown attention, most of all the sole attention of her beloved. a familiar melody sounded in the backround, years of observing others on the dancefloor yet never joining left her entirely unprepared for the dance that was to come. jacaerys noticed her nerves.

"do you know the stepps ?" she shook her head no. the reaction brought a smile to his face, genuine and warm. "not to worry, it is not a difficult one, you only need a capable lead"

arriving finally to the dancefloor, the music picked up. jacaerys hands led her to stand infront of him. since he noticed her uneasined, his eyes had not left hers once.

he began the dance, jumping left and right, she soon joined his pace. it felt like ascending the skies on her dragon for the first time, each little jump leading her further and furhter away from the ground, away from the drama of her house and into the heavens.

his pace changed, stepping forth to take her hand into his. the toutch was electrifying, gentle yet firm, he brought their joined hands to eye level, gaze forever steady on her form, like the eternal rocks beneath the tumoltous sea, somewhat grounding her. they began to turn around eachother. slowly at first, he began to hasten his turns, having now to hold on tighter, keeping eachother in orbit.

jace took a step back moving their joint limbs above her head, intending to spin her around herself, his other hand gently on her waist, as to keep her steady. the wine was taking effect for before she could turn to face him again she stumbled, slightly falling forward, straight into his arms.

he did not let her fall however, the hand on her waist immedietly snaking around her fully, the one above her head going to hold the side of her face, preventing it from coliding with his. by the time she gained her balance, the position between them was highly innapropriate. the warmth of his hand on her cheeck made all skin receptors go haywire. his lips had slightly parted and she could feel his breath on her own, if she leaned a little forward she could even....

"THAT IS ENOUGH !" queen alicents booming voice sounded. their moment of tenderness so rudely interrupted, the princess pulled away from her nephew, he complied, taking a half-step back, his hand previously on her waist however moved to hold hers once again.

" do you take me for a fool ? sharing words of support and love to my family, while your son has corrupted my sweet daughter, laughing now in our faces, i will have it no longer !"

everyone was shocked, rhaenyra held onto her husband, who moved to stand up, aegon and aemond shared a look equal parts amusement and comradery, while rhaena and lucerys held hands. the only one to keep his composure was the queens father. ooto knew. baelas legs were bouncing up and down furiously. everyone was in dissaray.

"what are you implying your grace ?"sounded daemon full of rage and malice. "i am implying nothing i am up and stating it since your family is playing the fool. your son has corrupted my daughter tainted her virtue and has now come to flaunt his debauchery infront of everyone! " jacaerys remained quiet, his hand unmoving.

like fish to bait, the princess thought. she anticipated the queens reaction, what surprised her was how public it was. a new variable. no matter, she had come this far, no way in the seven hells would she quit now. her eyes searched for and found rhaenyras, her beautifull face painted one sentance, i hope you know what youre doing.

"daughter, please regain your composure." otto attempted to calm his queens nerves. one public outburst escaping the family was bad, two would be ruinous. rhaenyras eyes remained locked with her sisters, the two communicating simply from eye contact. the younger sent a pleading look. not wishing to anihilate the little pieces of reconciliation the dinner had acheived, the heir sprung into action.

"please, your grace, it has been an eventfull evening, let us not end the night in animosity. the hour is late, we ought to all retire and discuss this with the light of the new day." daemon went to express his rage his atempted outburst swiftly sqashed by rhaenyra holding his arm. lucerys and rhaena immedietly stood up, followed by helaena, exiting at once, not wishing to partake in the conflict.

alicent attempted to voice her dissagreement, rage and adrenaline pulsing in her veins, but could not, the hand of her sworn shield along with her fathers stern gaze bringing her to reality.

aemond stood, approaching the still-frozen couple. his imposing frame cornered that of jacaerys "carefull nephew, should i find any truth to these accusations, i will ensure you pay the price this time" and with that, he pulled his sister away. she turned to look to her beloved, for the final time time of the evening, their eyes locked, a silent promise to speak again.

the events of the night were all blurry in the young princes head. whithin less than a day he reunited with his aunt, was btrothed to baela, descited to put aside his feelings for his aunt, witnessed a beheading, had his feelings for his aunt reignited and was now accused of deflowering her.

after she was so rudely torn away from him, the prince was faced with the fury of his betrothed. baelas face twisted in a way he had only previously seen on daemon, it petrified him. "is it true ?" asked the girl. "what ? i dont-"

"it is a simple question jacaerys, are alicents words true ?" "ofcourse not ! i would never do such a thing" tension was rising with each exchange of words "what was this buisness today then ?" "the princess fell, what was i to do ? allow her to fall ?"

"she is the enemy jace, you cannot trust these people" the words coming out of baelas mouth filled him with rage never before experienced "the enemy ? are you being serious ? you know nothing about the princess-" "neither do you."

they were almost yelling, daemon started to advance toward them. afraid of his stepfather he attempted to deescelate the situation."i do apologise for any discomfort i have caused you, baela, but i will not stand to hear such nonsense."

baela scoffed "if you are unable to see past the intentions of those who only mean to use you, i hold in my heart not discomfort but pity for you, my prince. goodnight. " and with that, she exited. by this time deamon hat taken the place of his daughter "come, we have much to discuss" looking behind him one final time to see his mother and queen alicent speaking quietly, he followed his stepfather.

they walked the halls of the keep solemnly, daemons calm demeanor betrayed none of his emotions, it only irritated jacaerys more and more as time went on. each torturous step made his mind race, from the dance to the fight to the princess to her hands to his betrothed to daemon to his aunt again, her lips, her smile, her body against his... it all was far too overwhelming.

the salvation from his torture came with their arival at his chambers. "come" daemon instructed, oppening the door, he could only follow instructions with the reverance of a septon executing the gods will, afraid of arousing his uncles rage. "sit" he sat, his uncle soon occupying the chair next to him.

"so, did you do it ?"

if one more person asked him that question jace swore he would throw himself from the tallest window of the keep. "no, i would never" daemon chuckled. "tis alright boy, the flame of youth roars with unparalleled passion, in this family especially, i would not have blamed you if you had." jace swallowed, a weight lifted from his chest.

"alas what i believe matters not, only what the queen does and as it stands, she thinks you deflowered her most favourite daughter. how do you plan to answer these accusations ?"

"i.....i do not know. i would not go back on my promise to baela sir. i swear it" daemons hand reached his sons shoulder. "i know. worry not about baela. we must understand what possesed the greens to spread such a rumor, they are coming for your inheritance boy, the same as your mothers."

heavens give me strength, the young prince thought. "with all due respect, you know nothing of who spread such a rumor. the princess would never soil her reputation in such a way. "

"damn right she would not, the princess is far from cunning enough" jacaeys hands turned to fists "it is certainly the work of her grandsire" he had had enough. "you only see the events of today as an excuse to express your violence"

"such are the tactics of war. we can not be seen as weak at this time, jace. they mean to take yours and your mothers birthright, to start the war and tear our forces apart-"

"i see finally, you care not for me nor baela, only for supporting the efforts of a war yet to materialise, if it even is to materialise. you only seek glory for yourself- " "myself ?" daemon interrupted "all i do, i do in support of you and your mother"

"then allow us to counsil my mother before you jump straight to actions which might soil her name" daemon gave no answer. his wife was his weakness, jacaerys knew it very well. and though he was prone to brash violet actions, he did so in servitude of his family.

daemon stood up sudently, still not having said a word. the young prince knew he had not quelled his bloodlust but the seeds of doubt planted in his mind would keep him occupied long enough. and so daemon exited.

before jacaerys was allowed a moment of respite, not a few seconds after his fathers exit, the painting near his window opened from behind.

emerging from the shadows, none other than the princess. jacaerys was left speechless, the night kept becoming stranger and stranger. "what-the...what, h-how did you get here ?" he chocked out.

"i found a sort of map of the red keeps passageways when i was young. one of them leads from my chambers to these" replied the princess shyly. "have i disturbed you....i should leave, my apologies-"

"no !" exclaimed jacaerys. the day had taken a toll on him, daemon and baelas words giving him a lot to proces. one thing had not changed though, he still longed to see her.

turning around from her attempt to exit, the princesses face became illuminated by the candelight showcasing her hopefull expression. a beat of silence pased, neither one of them knowing how to approach the other. the princess stepped forward, fully entering the room.

he could now see her dress in detail, a pure white nightgown, flowing gently, encasing her form. she looked like an angel sent from the heavens.

"my mother is very protective of me, you must excuse her earlier actions, she only meant to do good. i-i came to apologise for what went down at dinner" by now she was standing but a step away from him. the prince remained frozen, afraid if he let his body move, he would no longer remain a gentleman.

his silence caused the princesses face to fall slightly a disapointed expression threatening to take over, the same one from earlier that night. he wished not to ever see her that way ever again "is that all you came here to do ?" he spoke up at last.

a small smile played at the side of her mouth "if i may excpress myself freely, my lord ?" the pang of excpectancy in his chest rattled his body "jace, and please do."

"jace" she began, the familiarity of the petname causing him to grow bolder. "i must say, though these rumours are heinous i- i was ashamed not of my soiled reputation, but for the fact they included you" the woman infront of him was a witch, jace descited, she was bewitching him with every word from her soft lips, and he was oh so willing to fall for her spell.

"truth be told i have not forgotten of the time we shared at driftmark, it may seem silly but since that day, i have longed to see you again."she continued "i know not of love ...or lust but these feelings lay in my chest for so long i fear they may drown me"

her eyes looked to his through her lashes, longing, excpecting. once again he was left without words. "jace ? you instructed me to speak freely, have i made you uncomfortable ?" her hand flew forward from her side, softly brushing his knuckles, sending chills to his body, threatening to take his hand into her own but hesitating.

"are, are you cross at me because of the rumors ?" the last bits of his composure were starting to crumble, egged on by both her words and feathelike toutches.

"i could never. i would never hold over you something you have no control over" he replied, unable to take her teasing toutches any longer, taking his hand away in favour of toutching her elbow bringing her closer, so much closer, her other hand flew to toutch his chest.

mirroring his actions at the diner, he placed his hand upon her cheek. "oh, im so glad" she said in a breathless whisper.

"you had no play in spreading the rumors, yes ?" her mouth oppened and closed, eyes and body growing uneasy "y-yes, how could i do something like that ? to you of all people" jace sucked in a hurried breath, cursing himself for almost ruining the moment.

he brought her closer, hand moving once again from elbow to back, possesive and supportive. his thumb began to caress her cheek, seeking retribution for his previous words. "ofcourse, ofcourse, you spilled your heart to me and i have gone and accused you."

"no, i understand." their faces were now only centimeters away, heavy breaths in tandem with eachother "there are many forces at play intending to keep us apart" jace continued. the words of daemon now but a whisper in his head, caution having flown from the window the moment she toutched him.

"do you give them any thought ?"

"i could not if i wanted to. you say you have longed for me since driftmark, my longing dates even further back. this force is pulling me toward you like the morning pulls the sun from its hiding and i fear if you were to be taken from me now, i would never see the light again"

and with that the water tipped over, his lips clashed against her. all the emotions pent up over the years releasing in a dance of mouths and tongue. her hands flew to his his hair, trying to express all of the things words could not.

slowly the princes pushed her leg between his, casuing him to step back, slowly tracing a path toward the bed. when he felt the foot of the bed on the back of his knees, he did not hesitate, hands snaking to her thigh, he lifted her slightly and fell back, ever so carefull to not hurt her or to break the kiss.

her nightgown did little to hide her form, now slowly falling off her shoulder, exposing her chest. his mouth left hers for the first time, only to trace a path down her neck. her hands pushing his face further into her, hungry for more.

his hands on her thighs moved further and further up, skirts riding up with them. her core now bare on his trousers, right where he needed her most, soft skin brushing up against hard fabric, sending pleasured pulses to both her bodies.

she started moving her hips shyly back and forth, head falling back, the mewls escaping her lips music to his ears. by now the arousal in his pants was evident, the friction from her movements doing little to aleviate his tension.

desperation was fogging his mind, movements going from passinate to hungry. sloppy open-mouthed kisses on her neck moving lower and lower, a silent prayer of devotion on her breast, all he could think hear and feel was her.

lost in eachother and the new sensations, they hearn naught og the comotion outside the rooms door.

without warning rhaenyra acompanied by the queen entered the room. the lovers were caught, once and for all, now bound together by duty. alicent began her scolding, rhaenyra agreeing with her and joining. jacaerys took no time in taking a protective stance, shielding the princesses face in his shoulder, raising her nightgown back on her shoulder, trying to maintain whatever semblance of was left to her name.

the princess awoke, in her own chambers sadly, the events of last night still ringing in her head. she could still feel the heat of jaces body on her face, waist and lower... she knew she ought to be ashamed, to order a carridge to the sept straight away and beg on her knees for forgiveness. yet she found no desire to do do.

satifaction filled her lungs with every breath. after alicent and rhaenyra had caught them, jace was dragged away by his mother, yet he accepted the consequences with a stiff lip and an air of pride. alicent still was clinging to her daughters innocence, refusing to accept the situation as anything but her poor daughter being manipulated.

when aemond heard of the news he attemptet to take some form of retribution, going as far as to propose a duel with jace in her honor. aegon had never looked so amused in his life, he only congradulated his twin saying "atleast you sampled the mount before you commited". her grandsire was, once again, the most composed figure of the evening, out of satisfaction of securing his blood on the throne, she thought. helaena had yet to learn of anything.

they had barely goten any sleep, counseling all night in search of an answer to the situation. only one was viable. after the green and black council debated, a clear course of action was set.

given the fact there was no chance of the princess being with child, they would release a statement announcing the betrothal of the crown prince jacaerys to the secondborn daughter of the king, reuniting the realm stated as the reason. the date of the wedding would be set in thee moons time, as not to arouse any suspicion. as for princess baela, negotiations for herbetrothal to lord cregan stark were already underway.

she walked to her vanity, lazily brushing her hair. the smile on the woman in the mirror looking back at her she had not seen in years. each movement of her wrist was excecuted with queenly grace. life had meaning once again.

she stayed there a while, pampering herself for she was a victor, when a certain tapestry on her wall came out of place.

in stepped none other than jacaerys velaryon. jace. her jace. her future husband.

"jace" she said, standing up. "you look... satisfied" began the prince, all shyness from the night before gone. "should i not be ?" teased she. jace remained silent, somewhat sullen, looking to her form, the morning light revealing to him just how transparent her nightgown was.

"i spoke with my mother last night, she revealed to me some new information" the princess tensed, afraid she was caught in her lies, afraid all of her effort was for naught. his composure as he advanced toward her did nothing to sooth her nerves. he began to circle her form, patiently awaiting an answer. "wh-what would that be, my prince ?"

he stopped behind her. was it the formality of the title that caused his pause ? or was it anger ? "she said, you wenr to her yesterday to plead your case for our betrothal. she said you almost begged, to be perscise"

he had not corrected her calling him her prince, leading her to the natural conclusion he was angry. "i-i apologise for not making you aware of such a fact last night. i hadnt the time to you see..." she craned her face back to look at him. begging with her eyes for some sort of reaction.

he looked down to her, something dark behind his brown eyes. "how do you explain such an action ?" he said, voice low and grainy.

there was little room of escape. she had to play her hand just right. "as i said, i hadnt the time to fully explain myself to you. it is true, i looked to rhaenyra to ask for your hand and.... the rumors were really not the reason but the excuse for my actions. i meant to... approach you, from before" he remained silent.

she made an attemt to turn around and face him, only to be prevented by his pressing himself to her back. "baela is of the oppinion wish to use me. both her and daemon said you mean to steal my mothers throne, to take from me what you want only to betray me. tell me it is not true." finally his true colors came to light. the darkness in his eyes was not born of malice but of desperation, of fear.

"please, you most not misunderstand my actions, i only meant to be with you, i have not lied, i woud never. my family knew nothing of it. i understand how this must come across but please, believe me, you must." her joice unashamedly betrayed her desperation to please him, he remained silent still only holding onto her tighter.

"what must i do to make you believe me ? i will beg on my knees if it please you just trust me..." his body relaxed just slightly, hands remaining on her stomach, clinging to her dress. he gave a long exhale.

"i believe you" it was her turn to sigh, runing her hands on his arms tracing lines over his toned forearms. "i believe, you are a cunning spider, who pounced on the opportunity to claim me for yourself." his hand ascended her stomach reaching the space just under her chest, playing with the ribbon tying adorning her gown. "i also believe your intelect to be so infatuating i cannot help but want you more..."

he pulled the end of the ribbon, her dres becoming looser. "tell the truth, did you stop to consider the possible consequences of your reckless actions once ?" his hand went higher, unbuttoning the top of her dress, torturously slow.

"i only thought of you, every step of the way." he continued his pursuit of unbuttoning her gown. "does this mean you accept my apology ?"

"yes my darling, you need beg no longer... besides, i would much prefer to see you on your knees for other purposes" with that, he spun her around, putting their lips together once again. only this time the kiss was less passionate and more possesive. they knew they were bound together forever.

her gown was barely hanging onto her body, jace shruged the sleeves off her shoulders, the gown pooling on her feet. he took a step back, breaking the kiss to look at her. look at her whole. he drank in the sight of her body like the sweetest of wines. "perfect" he muttered under his breath, but before the princess had a chance to reply, he took her into his arms, mouths clashing once again.

effortlessly he carried her to the bed, gently placing her head on the pillows, climbing on soon after. her hands reached to toutch his chest, tugging on his tunic, begging to have it removed. he complied, hastily unbuttoning it. the morning light illuminated his porcelain skin, showcasing his toned arms and chest.

his mouth descended upon her, continuing his previous actions. one leg on her side, the other nudged her legs apart, knee pressing onto her core. she moaned upon the contact earning a chuckle from jace. "you, are magnificent" he said innetween kisses. "my cunning girl"

the fabric on his knee got wetter by the second, dampness reaching the skin underneath. his hand traced a path from her side down to her navel, to her pelvis, finally to where she needed him most. he began his ministrations on her pearl, tracing slow circles, each one sending waves of ecstasy along her body, they reached her throat leading her to release a pleasured moan. "please keep quiet darling, i would hate to be interrupted yet again"

his fingers on her core went lower, seperating her slit, pressing onto her. "wh-what-" she whispered, trying desperately to hold back her moans "shhh, worry not my dear, i only mean to please"

"all i do, i do to please you, my love" with that his fingers penetrated her. sensing her incoming moan, jaces hand flew to her mouth, muffling her sounds, only for him to hear. his fingers began to move, setting a slow rythm, allowing her to get used to the foreign sensation.

it was as if he had studied her body for years, the reverance with which he treated her left a burning sensation in both her heart and core. he continued, slowly picking up his pace, settling into a new rythm, his thumb took to restarting the ministrations on her pearl. she felt a knot forming in her stomach, tesion on her chest becoming more and more and more...untill she felt she could go on no longer.

"j-jace..." she chocked out, "i know, i know darling..." he placed a tender kiss upon her forhead, "let go, its ok..." with that, the tension in her stomach exploded, pleasure enveloping her body, settling into her limbs. "thats my girl.."

how long she spent lost in the throws of ecstasy, she knew not, a fog of pleasure clouding her mind, leaving her to think only of jace. once she started to come out of it a bit, he slowly removed his fingers, earning him a whine at the loss of contact. he only chuckled.

she went to remove her lovers trousers but he prevented her movements, taking her hands and giving each of them a kiss instead.

"allow us to keep something to look forward to on the wedding night." he said, positioning himself next to her on the bed, placing her head to his chest, playing with her long silver hair. they stayed like that a while, simply enjoying the company of one another.

the princess spoke up, "what is on you your mind, my prince ?" he made an insulted face, placing a hand of his heart " do not call me that again, lest you want me to be cross with you." she chuckled, her happiness causing his heart to swell with pride, he was the reason behind her laugh "i am simply admiring my future wife"

she raised her torso to kiss him again, all soppy and sweet. "i do have one last question to ask." she fully raised her body, legs across his lap and head neeling on his shoulder. "please do, future husband"

"last i spoke with daemon, he was ready to go to war in the name of preventing our betrothal. yet this morning, he was all smiles and agreement, i know it was not the efforts of my mother alone. what did you do ?"

"i fear if i answer that, you may turn to cast me aside" she said, begining to leave little kisses and kitten licks onto his neck. he took her jaw into his hand, seperating it from his neck, moving her to look into his eyes "we are in this together now, fully, my love. i wish to know of my wifes nature for i know i will come to love it, i already have."

"well, if you insist... my ladys maid worked under the lord stark, her father is a steward, tasked with writting many of his lords official letters. she learned to writte in her fathers handwritting and well... a certain letter arrived, late last night, detailing the request of the lady baelas hand for his son cregan"

jacaerys gave a hearty laugh " and it really took affect ?"

"ofcourse it did. the lord of winterfell will not question the crowns words, they know better than to refuse an alliance with our house. by the time the source of the betrothal comes into question, we will be on our honeymoon and alia settled with her own lover in braavos"

she looked to his eyes attempting to find any disgust, anything that would show her she was unwanted by him aswell, yet jace only looked to her with love and admiration. "you truly are a marvel, my spider" he kissed her forhead one again, then her brow, her nose, finally her lips.

"i hate to be taken away from you, however...." he began, tearing his body from hers, seeking his discarded tunic. "we have a scheduled, promenade soon. your mother is taking all the steps necessary in making us look like a prim and proper couple" he began puting his tunic back on, the sight of his back muscles flexing giving the princess another rush of arousal.

she chuckled and changed her possition on the bed, stretching her body, intending to entice her lover back into joining her. he turned around to face her once last time, the heavenly sight of her bare body making him question just how important appearances actually were. "do not play games with me girl, i should hate to disapoint the queen again"

"i said nothing..."she teased. "you neednt say anything. one day you will be queen and you may torture our children in such a way, or any way you see fit" he added. she smiled so wide it illuminated every corner of the room. "whatever you say, my king" he looked back once again, on his attempt to exit.

"treasonous girl. goodbye, my queen"

[it-happened-one-fic]

Gentle Care - Jade

Author Notes: So, this is another fanfic that has been sitting, collecting dust in my Google Docs for quite some time now. It is finally getting to see the light of day because I wanted to post a Jade fic (totally not because of any cards that recently came out on the Japanese server). I didn't really listen to anything specific while writing this, so I really can't say there is any specific inspiration for this fic either. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader/ sfw/ flirtation/ romance implied/ fluff

Word Count: 1393

When Azul had called to ask for your assistance in patching someone up, you hadn’t been surprised. 

First, you’d gotten very good at handling bandages and whatnot simply due to your numerous Overblot experiences. You always ended up with a myriad of bumps and scrapes after those.

Secondly, Floyd getting into a fight was hardly uncommon, so the idea of him being a little scraped up was hardly startling. 

Finally, Floyd was perpetually mercurial, and if he’d even implied that he’d sit still and let you bandage him without squirming around, then Azul would do what it took to get you to Octavinelle just to ensure Floyd didn’t cause him any more of a headache.

An added bonus was that Octavinelle had all the supplies you could ever dream of, so there wasn’t even any need for you to bring anything with you. In fact, Grim even stayed at Ramshackle, opting not to join you on your little jaunt to Octavinelle. Though he did make sure to put in a request that you bring home some food for him that had you rolling your eyes slightly as you slipped out the door.

Your only real concerns on the trip to the mirror chamber were whether or not the other person had survived the altercation and how exactly you were going to scold the injured eel, even though you knew perfectly well that your words would do little good to keep him from getting into yet another fight. 

Those thoughts vanished though when you stepped into the Mostro Lounge and found yourself greeted with an unexpected sight.

Jade, sitting there as calmly as ever despite the bruises and red scratch marks that were sprinkled across his person as he talked to his brother, who was currently crouched in front of him, “Yes, it seems they mistook me for you, Floyd. Handling them was an easy matter, but-”

Jade halted mid-sentence as he spotted you, his eyes widening briefly before his usual, carefully crafted smile appeared, “I wasn’t expecting you quite yet, Y/n. I do hope you didn't rush.”

It was those oh-so polite words that immediately sparked your ire, sending you striding forward and snatching the bandages off a nearby table as you did so. After all, that long red scratch on his arm looked particularly nasty.

“Do I want to know?” Your irritation was obvious to everyone present, but no one seemed terribly concerned. But, to be fair, you were already kneeling and inspecting the young man’s injuries.

Azul let out a sigh, stepping into the room and holding a stack of papers, “It seems that a group of juniors looking for a fight mistook Jade for Floyd.”

“It’s alright though, Shrimpy. Jade handled ‘em all perfectly well.” Despite Floyd’s reassurance, you were hardly pleased. Eying the tell-tale burn that affirmed that magic had indeed been used in the fight despite school rules.

You glanced up, immediately making eye contact with the injured young man who’d been sitting silently, with a slight smile on his face as he’d watched you this entire time. Almost as if he were gauging the situation before he said anything.

“So you got in a fight you could’ve avoided?” Your flat tone said everything, and Azul took it as a cue to leave. With a single motion, he signaled Floyd, and the two exited the space. Floyd linger long enough to cast a single glance that flickered between you and his brother over his shoulder before he disappeared into the kitchen.

Jade met your accusation with an easy calmness and no small degree of amusement, “I wouldn’t be so sure. That group seemed to have quite a bit of aggression towards my dorm and probably didn’t really care if it was me or Floyd.”

You remained silent as he continued, going about bandaging some of the worse scratches while he calmly spread burn cream on his arm, “And even if I had made them aware of my identity and they’d left, it would’ve simply meant my dear brother would be in my current position, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

You pressed a band-aid down with a bit more pressure than strictly necessary as your eyes found his, “Don’t play coy with me, Jade. You wanted to get in that fight.”

You had to curb your urge to roll your eyes at the innocent expression he gave you before you continued, “You’re far too smug to have not gotten your way.”

With those words, you stood, grabbing another band-aid and turning your attention to the scratch marks that were scattered across his face, “So who were they?”

He smiled, his sharp teeth flashing as he did so, “Three of them were beastmen. I personally thought the Diasomna fellow was stronger, though. But don’t worry, all of them are in far worse shape than me.”

You snorted in response to his all too smug response, your amused tone not matching your chiding words, “Don’t gloat.”

Despite yourself, you were smiling even as Jade spoke again, his tone getting gradually more amused, “It works for Floyd.”

Your gaze flickered over to his, your hands carefully placing the band-aid on his cheek as you frowned at him, “No, it doesn’t, and it won’t for you either. I treat you two the same way.”

You gently smoothed the too-tan fabric across his pale cheek, and he chuckled, “Surely you know better than to lie to me, my dear.”

Your movements stilled as his hand reached up and wrapped around one of yours, his gaze holding yours captive as he smiled like he’d won some sort of game, “You and I both know you treat me far differently than how you treat my brother.”

You tugged at your hand gently, and Jade let it go with ease even as his fingers carefully brushed the skin on his cheek where your hand had just been with a distinctly pleased expression, “Your gentle care for me proves it.”

You crossed your arms, shaking your head slightly as you frowned down at him, “Don’t tease. I might be helping you right now, but I will leave.”

He tilted his head, his expression shifting to a feigned mask of betrayed hurt, “And abandon me to the care of Azul and Floyd? You wouldn’t be so cruel.”

You rolled your eyes slightly at his dramatics but reached over and grabbed another band-aid, “I might. You never know when I’ll surprise you.”

A smile curved across his face as his gaze stayed locked on you even as you focused on one of the other scratches on his otherwise pristine skin, “Indeed, I never do….”

You hummed slightly as he trailed off, “Right, so you’d best watch it and not get hurt like this again. I might not take care of you next time.”

“Wouldn’t that mean playing favorites since you’ve kept on helping every time Floyd gets himself hurt?” He didn’t miss a beat, and you frowned at him, causing him to chuckle, “I won’t make any promises. I rather enjoy getting taken care of, you know.” 

You tapped him lightly on the shoulder in a faux slap, “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” You paused, turning to look over your shoulder as you called out to Azul and Floyd that you were done.

Jade tilted his head as you looked back his way, his smile still present as he looked up at you where you stood between his spraddled out legs from his seated position, “Leaving so soon? Floyd made dinner.”

You snorted lightly, shaking your head at his coaxing tone even as Floyd stepped out of the kitchen, “You staying for dinner, Shrimpy?”

You held Jade’s gaze as you felt a smile spread across your face, and, despite yourself, there was very little hesitation as you called back, “Sure! Sounds good!”

And once again, Jade’s smile was all too smug, but at this point that was nothing new. Especially since you knew perfectly well that if he, or Azul, or Floyd, got hurt again, you’d be back to take care of them once again, even though all of you knew it was hardly necessary.

And that was even taking into account that you did play favorites. But you weren’t about to admit that to Jade, and, judging from the smile on his face, he already knew anyway.

[randombush3]

take me home

alexia putellas x reader

notes: idek i was just bored. i don’t even like this 😬

words: 2247

summary: it’s late, but you have a visitor you can’t turn away. (think ‘style’ by taylor swift)

warnings: (repurposed) smut. i don’t wanna talk abt that shocking portion of the fic tho so shh

The nights are lonelier than you had expected them to be when you moved here. Barcelona to London was a big change – a scary one, though it is difficult for your pride to let you admit that.

You, with your ambition, lost sight of what was supposedly tying you down, paying it as much attention as the other person in the relationship was. When you left, nothing really changed. You haven’t heard from her since.

So, as you sit in front of your TV, the bright colours of Sex Education illuminating the white walls of your otherwise dark apartment, you ask yourself once more why you are surprised. Why, every time you spend an evening alone, attempting to master the English language, your heart can’t help but crack a little bit more.

Eyes growing wearier by the minute, you cheat your immersion by texting a friend: no one particularly interesting. She is telling you about her vision for a song. A pianist she heard the other day has inspired her, and she wants your help. You often lend an experienced hand to the ones who need guidance when it comes to producing, but it’s midnight and you can’t be bothered at all. You realise that, in Spain, she must be out in the warmth of the city’s night, sitting on someone or other’s balcony, smoking a cigarette. A quick once-over of your own situation prods at a regret you have decided to ignore.

You’re in London for a reason.

The grating chirp of your buzzer causes your phone to be flung from your grip, landing on the rug beneath your bare feet with a soft, muted thud. Another ring of the buzzer has you groggily heading towards the intercom to the left of your door (painted red since yesterday, as urged by your mother who is all for personalising and making a place feel like home).

“Hello?” you question, too lazy to consider the shockingly short list of potential visitors.

The voice that replies wakes you up, practically setting your body aflame, syllables washing over you as though they come from the font at the altar. Holy. Well, you decide that they are equals.

And, oddly enough, despite moving to another country – despite leaving without saying goodbye, tears in your eyes only cried once your backs had been turned against each other, hands on either side of a door that wasn’t going to open again – you obey her command, slipping on your shoes without hesitation. You step into the lift, examining your tired reflection in the smudged mirror, wondering whether licking your thumb and smoothing out your eyebrows is really going to fix the dark eyebags that act like reverse eyeshadow on your face.

The car that waits outside your building, shadily parked by the pavement across the road, honks once, headlights off. You sigh, accepting your fate, and cross, pulling at the handle of the passenger side, opening the door onto a potentially disastrous night.

“Hola,” says Alexia. Her hair is loose, falling around her shoulders in professional curls. She is in London for a reason, too. From her white shirt and silk trousers, you deduce the kind of reason.

The air is tense, thick with unsaid words and the knowledge of what happened when you last spoke, but you slide onto the leather seat of the rented Audi anyway. “Hola,” you say back. She drives.

There are many questions you’d like to ask her, the first being how she found your address. They sit on your tongue; hopeful, waiting to be said. You swallow and succumb to the heavy silence, listening to the whir of the engine and roll of the tires on the wet tarmac of the roads she drives you down.

She has no map. She knows not where she is taking you, nor why she came in the first place. (The latter is a lie. She misses you. She tells herself she doesn’t.) In truth, she is surprised you don’t notice how she is going round in circles. Maybe you don’t get out much. Maybe you are just as miserable as she has been.

You moved away eight months ago. She has craved your presence for nine. No, ten. Maybe even for a lifetime.

Maybe you feel the same, though she wouldn’t know.

Maybe you want to come home.

Maybe leaving her has only shown you what was always there. What is no longer waiting for you in your apartment after late-night studio sessions or long, draining meetings. What is not a set weekend plan anymore: football matches; dinners with her team; nights at clubs together, dancefloor commandeered and dominated, dingy bathroom not long after. Then, Alexia realises that she has gambled, and that bets can be lost.

Though, if you had found someone else to dance with – to love, really – you’d probably be with them right now.

She wants to say something. Apologise, perhaps. Or ask how you are, solely to discover your current relationship status.

You get there first.

“It’s been a while since I have heard from you.”

She glances across the dashboard, turning right onto a long, tree-lined drive, not caring whether this may be trespassing. It’s hard to look at the road when she could be looking at you instead.

“I have been busy,” she offers.

“I see.”

She bites her tongue, eyes squinting in frustration with herself. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens, though you hardly notice, too occupied with searching for your self-control. You’ve never been blessed with much of it, but it exists within you to a certain extent. Surely.

You know you are wrong when she parks once more outside of your building, this time getting out. You follow suit, taking her hand wordlessly, leading her inside.

Instead of looking into the mirror, she presses you up against it, hands on your hips as you nod, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Her eyes are wild, and you’d think she were drunk if she hadn’t been driving you around for the past twenty minutes. You don’t have to tell her to kiss you. She already knows what to do.

The lift doors open on your floor. You tug her out, taking her home. To your home – a word no longer shared between the two of you.

Your apartment is as dark as you left it, Netflix asking if you are still there as it interrupts Sex Education. You are now accidentally on the next episode.

She laughs quietly when she sees the TV, mouth opening against yours, sound in your mouth as you work to be consumed by her. You’ll probably regret this tomorrow morning.

Alexia takes off her coat, draping it over the back of the sofa. You smile to yourself, choosing to not be conflicted by how comfortable she is here. She knows you well. You like to tidy on your own, and you will set aside her coat somewhere else later. She gives you the freedom – the break in your kiss – to tell her to redress. To get out.

She waits a second more when it does not come.

You undo the top button of her shirt while she stands, paused in your new apartment, breathing in the lingering smell of fresh paint. There are scuff marks on the skirting boards, and she is reminded that it has been eight months. That you have had time to create another life here. It seems as though you, now onto the second button, still manage to mould yourself around her, however.

“Ale,” you murmur, tracing your pinkie finger across the exposed skin of her chest. “It’s okay. I…”

And she heavily relates to your failure to get the words out.

Instead of bearing the silence that should follow, she ignores the alarm bell in her head that warns her not to break her heart all over again, and leans in to kiss you once more, lips soft and familiar and addictive.

Your body feels electric against hers as she kisses you harder and harder. Your mind, for once, is at peace. The first time it has been since you moved here.

You take her to your bedroom, kissing your way down her neck as she lifts your hoodie over your head, muscular arms well-versed in this action. There have been others, you’ve heard.

Topless, you sit on your bed, crumpling the fresh sheets. “I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl,” you say, catching your breath. She stands in front of you, looking down, eyes fixed on yours despite the cleavage on display being such a tempting exhibit.

There is guilt here with the two of you, now. She wants to make you feel like you are the only person in the world, but she knows you won’t believe her.

“What you heard is true,” she replies, reluctant to admit it. “But I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You scoff, lying back anyway. She kneels over you, a leg either side of your waist. “I’ve been there too. A few times.” The pang of jealousy that strikes her low in her stomach spurs her on as she reconnects her lips with yours.

You watch as concentration takes over her, letting her touch you, kiss you, caress you. You haven’t even told her to slow down. If anything, you wish she’d speed up and just get to it already, remembering just how good she makes you feel.

She explores your body like she knows it but wants to learn it all over again, kissing the scars and the freckles and the tattoos that litter your body, all equally important features of the woman that sends her soaring above the clouds. You keen under her touch, whining as your patience depletes.

“Please,” you breathe. Alexia slides down your body, her lips skimming the hollow of your throat. You gasp as she kisses the valley between your breasts, the slight tickle of her hands ghosting your ribs making you feel a thousand things at once.

It all crashes into one as she kisses you over your underwear. Your hand laces through her hair, tousling it. You prefer that over how her stylist does it, anyway.

Her lips brush the waistband of the black fabric, hooking her fingers underneath the elastic, giggling at the way you raise your hips in anticipation. Instead, she chooses to swipe through your folds, circling your clit as you protest half-heartedly. You grip the bedsheets as her fingers dip inside of you, tucking and curling. “Good?” Your back arches as at the welcome invasion. You silently beg for her to leave you more breathless than you already are. She somehow hears your thoughts and inches your underwear down, slotting herself between your thighs, lying on her stomach.

Warm lips caress your inner thigh, teasingly making you ask her for more through your involuntary moans. Alexia’s hot breath ghosts over your clit. “Joder,” you swear. You crane your head up to watch at the first bold swipe of Alexia’s tongue against you. Her lips are hotter than her breath as she kisses you, open-mouthed and needily. Her tongue glides through your wetness, stopping at your entrance. Another urgent moan spills from your lips as her tongue slips inside of you, her hands cupping your bum, bringing you closer to her.

You squeeze your eyes shut, death-gripping whatever you can hold onto, as her tongue makes its way up to your clit. The disappointing emptiness is not felt for long; tongue quickly replaced by two skilled fingers. You groan as she curls inside of you.

Your orgasm builds, months overdue. You grind into her.

She pulls away.

Your eyes flicker open at the loss of contact. “What?” you pant.

She kneels up and brings her hand to her mouth, her soft lips enveloping her glistening fingers. Her eyes stare up at yours, intense and lustful, her lips turning upwards in a devilish smile. It is the sexiest thing you have ever seen.

Her hair hangs down as she leans over you, shirt still just as done-up as it was when you had last been focused on things other than how good it feels to have Alexia between your legs. The pause, hot and breathy, enables her to pull the white material off, lacy bralette barely covering anything.

You undo the clasp at the back expertly, throwing the bralette somewhere that will prolong her nakedness in your bed. You groan, a common sound now, at the sight of her, hands cupping her breasts as she grows bashful.

When her thigh connects with your centre, she loses her shyness. She can feel how wet you are, and, really, she feels sorry for you.

Once more, she slips her fingers inside you, adding another this time. Your back curves upwards, your muscles trembling. Alexia’s free hand rests on your navel, holding you down as her tongue swirls around your clit.

She sends you reeling; catapulting you head-first into a land of bliss.

When you have both showered — much, much later — you let her distance herself from you in your bed. She’s a stranger now, you tell yourself.

Alexia leaves London the next day, with no plea to take you home with her.

You spend another evening in front of the TV, deciding that yesterday was only a blip in your routine. But, you know, deep down, that she will be back. Or vice versa. You’ll never go out of style.

[zee-143]

~𝙵𝚊𝚗!𝚂𝚔𝚣 𝚡 𝙸𝚍𝚘𝚕! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜~

♡A/N: This is what won the polls so this is what I'll write. Also ty to everyone who likes my content. I have other fics coming up so stay tuned and hope you enjoy this one❤❤ Skz aren't idols in this btw. Just you :) I did reread this but if u do find mistakes I apologize 😭

SKZ x Fem! Reader

♡Genre: Fluff

♡Warnings: Noneee

Chan

He first heard about your music through a friend.

He was instantly hooked

He practically loved every single song you wrote and released

Chan was definitely a committed fan too

He'd follow all your social media just to stay updated on everything you were doing

Nothing creepy. Only to stay informed of course

If you had a fan meeting? He would totally be there. Even if it meant dragging a friend along with

A concert? He will be there just to support you

Chan simply loves anything you do. Whether it be the way you eat or talk. Everything just seems so... Perfect

Now, as a fan, Chan knows he shouldn't get too attached but its been difficult to say the least

Ever since that one encounter with you, Chan couldn't help but get a little excited at the thought of you

It was your 5th fan meeting. You were happily greeting fans, receiving their gifts or compliments like a complete professional. Chan stood in line, excitedly tapping his feet. He held a paper bag(that was your favorite color) with loads of gifts in them.

The line moved quite slowly but Chan didn't mind. If it was to see you, he'd wait a century. The closer he moved though, the more excited and nervous he became.

Finally, it was his turn to meet you

You happily greet him and he greets back. You spark up a little conversation by complimenting his outfit. Chan compliments back, saying how he admired your outfit too.

Chan revealed all the presents he bought for you. You were extremely surprised by how many things they were. Your staff can along, taking the gifts and placing them with the others

"You didn't have to buy all that stuff you know" You laughed. Your smile caused a light pink to spread across Chan's face. "I don't mind. You really inspire me and make me very joyful. It's the least I can do" Chan grins confidently. You nod, signing the poster and album he brought along

"Well, thank you so much. It's really amazing that I get to make fans like you so happy. It makes me happy. Don't stop smiling for me, alright? " He never forget those words. He never forgot his promise to her. He smiled, whenever a smile needed to be present.

Chan sometimes wonders if you remember him. It is unlikely. You do have millions of fans everywhere all around the world. Meeting you was enough for him though. It was just enough.

Minho

He was just scrolling through YouTube one day when he came across on of your music videos. With 93 million views?

He felt that was a little much but who knows maybe it wasn't bad.

Minho was wrong though. It wasn't just bad. Your music was 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. He felt like he just found a drug and you were the dealer.

He tried not admitting how much he actually liked your music but failed

The posters on the walls aren't there for nothing obviously

He loved your dance style. It was so clean yet fun. He'd spend hours in his room just watching performance videos and trying to master your dances

Minho was intrigued by your stage presence more than anything. You captivated the crowd with just one look. You definitely had a way with face expressions and emotions

His room was filled with different types of merchandise. From posters to photo cards to albums to hoodies and even more

With all the merch though, it was hard to keep his little obsession a secret. And not because he was embarrassed. He just didn't want people getting all nosy with this one little interest. It was his and his alone.

One moment he won't forget was that one live he watched

Minho wasn't particularly feeling well that day but luckily you were on the rescue. You decided to go live and just ramble about whatever has been happening. Nothing special, which Minho didn't mind. He just loved your voice.

Minho was slightly bored. He deciding on commenting something. It's not like he was hoping for you to see it. He typed out something sweet but simple: 𝘐𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. He read through the comment before sending it through

You, on the other hand, we're reading through the comments until one caused you to raise your eyebrows and smile. "I'm feeling really bad today but your voice makes everything a little brighter" You read.

Minho practically panicked, noticing you read his comment. That was 𝙝𝙞𝙨 comment. He slapped his cheek just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And sure enough he wasn't.

"I'm sorry that you're feeling bad but it'll get better. Life sucks but don't let that stop you. I'm glad I'm helping just a bit. To which ever fan who commented that and everyone else, I love you so much and don't ever forget that" You raised a thumbs up before staring back down at your phone, looking for more comments to read

Minho felt his heart skip a beat. Skip multiple beats in fact. Though the last few words weren't only directed towards him it felt that way. And that's all that matters.

Changbin

Changbin had always been a fan of you. Ever since debut he was rooting for you to succeed

And boy did you do just that

You had millions of fans from all over the globe now and he felt proud of you for that. He loved that you got where you wanted to be.

He enjoyed more of your older songs as that's what he's used to but the newer songs are amazing too.

What really stood out to him about you though was your laugh. You had such a pretty and contagious laugh. Every video he watches, he just hopes you'll laugh. It makes him smile.

He also relates to you food wise. Changbin is someone who loves food and for you to love food as much as he does. Well, that's nice to hear

It was funny how stupidly similar you both were but who knows.. Maybe he's just being delusional

He sometimes thinks about what it would be like to befriend you. He was positive that it wouldn't be a boring experience that's for sure.

He basically stalks your Instagram account and other social media too.

If you post something, he's most likely already seen it or read it. Everything you post is something different, so he always makes sure to stay updated

He also noticed how you both practically have the same sense of humor. Any joke you say seems to crack him up more than anything else

Changbin was watching a recent vlog you recorded and couldn't help but notice a funny detail. After the video he hopped onto Twitter and shared his observation

'𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 (𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦) 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 2 𝘵𝘰 3 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴. 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥'

A few hours, Changbin returned to Twitter noticing the attention his post got. Many were agreeing and others were just pointing out other details. But one comment left him shocked

He couldn't believe it. He even clicked on the profile and did everything. And surely enough, that comment was from you

'𝘓𝘰𝘭𝘭, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 😭"

You liked his little joke. YOU ACTUALLY LIKED IT. He tried not to scream as he was in a restaurant with a bunch of friends. He must have been dreaming, or dead maybe.

Either way, he was glad you got to laugh at his silly comment. Who knows. Maybe they'll be more silly comments you'll see and laugh at even more

Hyunjin

Hyunjin loves you. And when I say love, I mean he 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨 you.

He listens to your music every single day. Maybe while painting or doodling, he played one his favorite songs

I mean, all your songs were his favorite song, but he had a few that he held close to his heart.

When with friends, he always has an urge to bring you up in literally anything conversation

"Did you see (name) at Paris Fashion Week "

"Did you know (name) can do that too"

"Woah, that reminds me of (name). She's a great idol and her music is fantastic! "

Just a few examples of his undying love to you

Hyunjin really believes that you both are soul mates. Now, that is quite delusional but it makes sense! (To him anyway)

You once described, in an interview, what your type is and he ticked all the boxes. But maybe that's just his ego talking. Just a hopeless romantic in love

He celebrated your birthday like it was his own.

His gallery was filled with more pictures of you than his own family

It was all very concerning but Hyunjin didn't care. He was happy. He was happy knowing you.

Hyunjin did do other things too. He occasionally posted his art which gained lots of attraction. It was good after all. At some point, you mentioned how you didn't know what cover to use for your upcoming album.

Hyunjin took it upon himself to make a fan made album cover. It was soo good, people actually thought it was official. You soon saw the cover and was so impressed. You needed to use it. It was perfect

Hyunjin woke up to something unexpected the next day. Other than the thousands of notifications, he got a DM. From you. He almost dropped his phone from pure surprise

'𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦!! 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵!! 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵, 𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵? '

'𝘠𝘶𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. 𝘐𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘯 😖"

"𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭!! 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 :)"

"𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘳!!"

And with that, Hyunjin's artwork was the official album cover

He was over the roof. Seeing his art piece on the YOUR official album with YOUR songs. Okay, saying he was over the roof is an understatement

You later had an interview about the album and basically praised Hyunjin for his work for around 2 minutes. He watched that interview more than he could count. Needless to say, he didn't want to forget this moment.

Jisung

Jisung wasn't an artist but he liked music. Music was like a child to him. To some extent anyway

It did make sense though

His father was the owner of a huge kpop company. The company you were under in fact

Jisung wasn't interested in your music at first. Until, he followed his father in the recording studio you were working in. It was just a check up on your latest song. After one listen, he couldn't get the song out of his head.

He did some research about you and realized you were quite a popular idol in the community. That's where his fan obsession began

He liked watching all your interviews. Your personality was something he couldn't get over. You were always so nice and thoughtful towards anyone around. He was very intrigued by everything.

Though you were in the same company his father owned, you both never interacted. Mainly because he avoided you as much as possible. Embarrassment was not an option.

As a fan, Jisung listened to your music. He had a special playlist just for your songs and songs you liked.Songs he thought 𝙮𝙤𝙪 would like too.

He basically carried a photocard of you everywhere. Jisung believes it brings him good luck. Which was a cute gesture but it did sound a bit silly

He didn't care at all. Even if it was silly, it kept him at ease. He liked it that way

You had to write a song for a special performance. It was to be the company's 50th birthday but you had no ideas. That's when Jisung came in

"I heard you were having trouble with song writing. I brought my son to help you. He is quite the song writer" Your boss smiled. You eyed Jisung curiously. This was all to sudden but time was running out. You allowed it.

Jisung on the other hand was a nervous wreck. He couldn't even focus without getting scared. You noticed this and decided to give him some space.

When you returned, the song was finished. You excitedly examined the lyrics. You were impressed to say the least. The lyrics naturally connected to you, as if they were your own

"Oh my- this is perfect Jisung. You really are a great song writer"

"Really? It's not dumb or anything...? "

"Not at all. It's so professional and well done. Good job"

You gave the male a quick but thoughtful hug. He hugged back. You were his favorite idol and he couldn't believe he got to be this close to you. It was a dream come true.

The song did extremely well. At the show, Jisung got a whole shoutout with his face on the big screen. He was embarrassed but glad. Glad he could help you out.

Felix

Felix found you through Tiktok. How? Well your MAMA performance was trending and it was practically every where. It was impossible for anyone not to see at least one edit.

Felix did watch MAMA and he knew about you. He has known for a while. But wasn't a fan. He just knew you were a popular idol. What he didn't know though, was how obsessed he would become.

Like Minho, Felix was mesmerized by how you dance. He imagined you were the best dancer he had ever watched. Felix would often practice your dances, simply for fun

Everything was for fun

Did he read the fan fictions? Well... No but yes. He did read them but only sometimes. And he only read the cute stuff. He was delusional at the thought of you. Just a cute fanboy

Felix absolutely loved your smile. He often called you a sunshine or something like that. He believes you bring sunlight and everything bright. Anyone could go blind even looking at you or that's what he thought.

Your voice. He was one of the fans who could listen to your voice for ages on end.

He was passionate about you. Talking about you just came naturally or even accidentally though he did feel embarrassed after rambling. He didn't want to seem annoying in front of his friends. It was hard to control.

Felix watched all the edits he could find. Any edit. Any meme. Any video. He would watch it. He enjoyed all the content fans made of you.

Like most, Felix had merchandise. All neatly organized and placed in his room. He didn't like misplacing any of it. Not because it was expensive. He just didn't need to loose anything. It was all important to him

Felix opened Tiktok one day. You posted a challenge. A challenge for a song that he was in love with. There wasn't one day he didn't think of this song. It didn't have any choreography ... Until now

So a challenge? He had to try it out!

After a few hours of practice and life regret, Felix memorized the dance. He joined on the challenge posting his version on Tiktok.

Felix knew the video was going to blow up but he didn't expect it to get him a deal with you

Now, the male was patiently sitting in your studio. A few staff members with him. You hurriedly entered the studio.

"Hello! So glad you could make it Felix"

"Uhm... It wasn't a problem but... Why am I here? "

"I need a dance partner. I saw your video giving a go at my challenge. You're perfect"

Felix tilts his head. He was curious about why she chose him but decided to learn that later on. Hey, he was given a deal to dance with someone he admired. Why not take it.

He worked really hard to learn all the dance steps and everything. With you of course. You were extremely helpful. Your smile had to be the best part of everything though. It was as bright as he thought.

The concert day has to have been the best though. The performance went really well. Felix became quite popular with your fans. Everyone was so supportive rather than jealous. It was the best day of his life. That day never left his mind. It definitely was something he'd never forget.

Seungmin

Seungmin isn't your biggest fan.

He does like your music. Your personality. Etc. He is definitely not a BIG fan of you

You were just an idol he was fond of

Seungmin had few amounts of merchandise. Again, he's just fond of you

Seungmin was captivated by your singing voice. That's what he first noticed. Nothing healed his heart more than your singing.

It was a melody he simply wouldn't get over. Seungmin, personally, sang himself. He actually was a trainee under your company too.

He'd often bump into you but it wasn't a huge deal. He saw you as any other idol in the company. Just a human with a big platform

You both often had a brief and quick interaction before moving on. Getting on with your own lives.

He was more normal about you than the others, obviously

The thing that changed though, was how much of a fan he was towards you

The company gave him a challenge to learn then sing a cover from the list that was provided

Alright, seems easy. He chose the hardest song. One of yours. Did he want to show off? Yes. Was it because he wanted to impress you? To an extent, definitely

The highnotes in the song are what he was ready for. He practiced. And practiced. And practiced some more.

Seungmin, like his other trainee peers, we're given the same challenge. One by one, they all perform their covers in front of the judges. The judges were honest. Really honest from what he heard. A girl ran back crying. Seungmins breath quickened and he lightly tapped his foot on the ground

He was anxious

His turn arrived. He stared at the judges, noticing you were there. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 up, he thought. The greetings and introductions ended. Now it was time for Seungmin to impress everyone (cough cough you)

The song reached its end. The room was quiet. The judges glanced at each other, with stunned expressions.

They all gave their feedback. The feedback was honest but decent. Your opinion was something that stuck with him forever though

"Well, that was my song and I haven't heard anyone sing it better than me. I'm actually so impressed Seungmin. I'm jealous. You have an angelic voice which I need on one of my songs. "

Everyone agreed and nod their heads

"When you debut, I'd love you to feature on some of my future music"

Seungmin left the company that day in a cheery mood. He couldn't believe one day you'd want to work on a song with him. Oh he was definitely going to learn as many of your songs as possible now.

Jeongin

Jeongin is definitely someone who keeps his love for you a personal thing

Only close friends knew about it

He liked it that way

Your fashion sense is something he is obsessed with. Jeongin is someone who takes time when it comes to dressing up. As soon as you mentioned, in an interview, that most of your stage outfits or general outfits are what you pick yourself. He could definitely relate

You dress like someone who cares about what you look like. Just like him.

You are an ambassador for a fashion brand after all. His seen plenty of ads in the mall or on the internet of you. He liked pointing them out in front of his friends

Jeongin thought you were sweet. Sweet like honey

He had no specific reason on why he wanted to know so much about you. Maybe it was his personal connection with you.

Or maybe he just wanted something to be attached to

Either way he was a big fan. Jeongin was simple about this whole thing. He felt happy when watching your content

He definitely was over protective about you though. He knows he shouldn't. It just sucks when someone comments a negative opinion. Of course, criticizing an idol is necessary for improvement. Though some take it too far. That's what pisses him off

Other than that, Jeongin is relaxed. Most of the time, especially in winter, he wears the same exact beanie. When asked about it, he doesn't really know how to answer but it is quite a story.

He attended a concert of yours. He was close to the stage which was just perfect. Of course, he brought friends with him. Friends that are fans as all.

Jeongin practically sang his heart out to every song. One of your more intense songs with a lot of energetic dances played. While dancing your beanie accidentally flew into the crowd. Luckily, Jeongin caught it.

The performance ended. You joked about the beanie flying off and asking if anyone caught it. Jeongins friends screamed in his direction bringing all the attention towards him.

A bright red paints on his face. The concert venue was dim. You hopefully couldn't see it. You laughed lightly noticing the shock in his face

"You know what. You can keep it"

Jeongin frantically shook his head insisting on you taking it back.

"Really, take it. You spent a whole ton of money just to see me sing and dance. It's the least I could do for such a cute fan"

Jeongin felt like passing out. One of his friends roughly shook him while the crowd screamed

He smiled at the thought, anytime he saw the piece of clothing. It was a wonderful experience. An experience he had to relive again.

◦•●◉✿♡✿◉●•◦

A/N: This has to have been the longest ass thing I've written so far. But I hope you enjoyed this little thing. Thanks soooo much for reading ♡♡

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 21)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut, Torture

Words: 1,889

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

It was early December and a few more weeks had passed since Robert had sent the letter to you, to which he received no response. 

Concerned, Robert met with General Groves who informed him about the progress of your case and difficulties for him to obtain correspondence from you. Unfortunately for Robert, Groves also informed him that reaching a conclusion in respect of your release still required more time than initially expected due to bureaucratic delays.

Feeling helpless and anxious, Robert continued to pour his energy into his work, focusing solely on the task at hand which, again, proved more difficult than he had anticipated. 

The first implosion test failed and a series of subsequent tests resulted in setbacks too. Although these failures might have discouraged lesser men, they served to intensify Robert’s dedication and tenacity. Each failure drove him further into his research, leaving behind nothing short of success when the stakes were highest.

But, it wasn't just the scientific aspect that consumed him – the mere thought of failing you made his predicament worse. 

It didn't matter how many hours he spent poring over equations and calculations, his mind always drifted back to you. Your image haunted him like a phantom, taunting him with visions of your smiling face, tender touch, and warm embraces. And then, late nights turned into sleepless nights as thoughts of you invaded his dreams, making sleep seem like an elusive creature refusing to grant him respite.

These agonizing days wore on, each bringing fresh torments. Nightmares plagued Robert's slumber, filling his waking hours with a profound exhaustion until, one afternoon, just weeks before Christmas, everything seemed to fall into place when Groves came to visit.

"Robert," Groves greeted with a solemn expression as, without knocking, he entered his office and startling him from his thoughts.

"General," Robert acknowledged with equal gravity, rising slowly from his chair, a hint of worry etched across his brow.

"Do sit, Robert," Groves ordered calmly, gesturing towards the seat and, as Robert sat back down, he noticed that General Groves appeared unusually serious and formal.

Swallowing hard, Robert composed himself, preparing to confront whatever dire situation lay ahead, thinking that, clearly, his day could not become any worse after, just that same morning, yet another implosion device failed to detonate. 

"I have an early Christmas present for you," General Groves announced abruptly, casting aside any pleasantries. 

"General, I am Jewish, we do not..." Robert began to say, but the General interrupted him sharply.

"Trust me Robert, you will be delighted nonetheless," Groves chuckled, causing Robert to furrow his eyebrows.

"Unless that surprise is going to helpful when it comes to activating the gadget, I must apologize if my excitement remains contained, General," Robert retorted with a rather exhausted look on his face, making the General realize how little he must have been sleeping.

"Well, for a matter of fact, the surprise I have for you is a scientist and I am hopeful that she might be able to help you become inspired with new ideas that will, indeed, help with the activation of the gadget," Groves responded confidently, knowing full well how important your contribution would be.

"You are bringing a new scientist on to the project without my consultation?" Robert asked incredulously, his initial disbelief transforming into anger. 

"Indeed, I am Robert. Now come. I want you to meet her," Groves commanded briskly, stepping past Robert's desk to lead the way. Robert hesitated briefly, wondering why the urgency, feeling somewhat unwilling to get excited. But, curiosity piqued his interest, driving him to follow suit despite his reservations. Together, they descended the steps leading outside and, soon enough, Robert realized that General Groves was leading him past the security gate and towards his own house.

"General, forgive me for asking, but why precisely are we heading to my home?" Robert enquired curiously, attempting to contain his growing suspicion.

"Like I said Robert, I want you to meet the newest addition to your team," Groves stated firmly, opening the door to his residence, whereupon Robert found himself suddenly standing inside, bewildered by the sudden shift in locale.

"General, please explain to me..." Robert began to plead, his tone displaying a mix of frustration and impatience, just before he got interrupted. 

"Robert, believe me when I say you will appreciate meeting this woman," Groves answered cryptically, guiding Robert into the living room where, suddenly, he saw you sitting there, looking up at him with those intense eyes that had captivated him so completely.

Robert froze in shock and disbelief upon seeing you. The unexpectedness of the encounter left him momentarily speechless, taking in the sight of you before him as though he were viewing something unreal or a mirage. Time stood still as he gazed at you, lost in admiration. His heart raced wildly against his rib cage while his mouth went dry.

Standing up, you rose gracefully, walking towards him with an undeniably feminine sway, your soft footsteps echoing against the wooden floorboards beneath you. As you reached closer, Robert felt his breath hitch, watching your every movement intently, struggling to regain control of his erratic pulse.

"Do I not at least get a kiss?" you teased playfully, tilting your head to the side, flashing a shy smile. Robert felt his heart skip a beat, overcome with both relief and longing, the familiar yearning returning with vengeance. Reaching forward, he took hold of your hands, pressing his lips fervently against yours, feeling a surge of desire coursing through his veins. 

"Where is our son?" Robert demanded passionately, pulling away momentarily while you clung onto him, reciprocating his affection wholeheartedly.

"He is asleep. In your bedroom. He cried all the way here, so he really needed the rest," you explained earnestly, caressing his cheek lovingly. Robert leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, relieved that your son was safe.

"Thank you, my love," Robert exclaimed gratefully, embracing you tightly, unable to let go even after several minutes had passed. This was the second chance he never imagined receiving – a gift straight from heaven. For about a year, you two had been kept apart, separated by deceit, distance, and obstacles, but fate had conspired to bring you together again.

"Perhaps I should give you some privacy, but before I go, please be advised that officials are going to keep a close eye on the both of you. Y/N will not receive security clearance and must remain at Los Alamos until the project concludes. She has been cleared of all wrongdoing, but these are the precautions we will need to take to bring her back on to the project, Robert," Groves began before addressing the fact that Robert now had not only one, but two, children to be looked after.

"As far your children are concerned, they will remain here, with you. This includes Kitty's son who she chose to leave in your care upon her departure from Los Alamos. I have taken it upon myself to employ a child nurse to look after them both. She will arrive tomorrow," Groves informed, pausing briefly as Robert digested the news. It was certainly a lot to process - finding solace in your arms, having been reunited with you, and now learning that he would also bear responsibility for raising not one, but two young lives. "Now, you must understand that, for obvious reasons, I expect you to retain professionalism at work. The only reason I have allowed Y/N back on to the project is because I consider it beneficial to the well-being of the man who runs Los Alamos for me. So now, I expect focus from you, Robert!" Groves instructed sternly, drawing attention back to matters concerning national security before saying his farewell, hoping not to be back until after Christmas. 

After Groves left, silence fell heavy around you both, giving you both time to truly reflect on what transpired. Both hearts racing, filled with gratitude and apprehension, Robert pulled you closer, allowing your bodies to nestle snugly into each other. He couldn't believe this was finally happening, you being right there beside him, holding him close, cherishing moments previously stolen from you.

"I need to see our son," Robert insisted, breaking free from your embrace gently as he heard him squirm, making unsettling noises.

"Of course," you smiled before, overwhelmed, you closed your eyes, savoring the tender memory of his touch.

"Come with me and I will introduce you," you offered, entwining your fingers with his as you led him toward the bedroom, sharing a comforting warmth as you walked shoulder to shoulder.

You then opened the door to the dimly lit room where your tiny son stirred peacefully, swaddled in blankets, angelic features contrasting the gloomy atmosphere. The sight of him stirred mixed feelings of joy and sadness in Robert, reminding him of the responsibilities he faced along with the happiness derived from being reunited with you in this world, at war. 

"Go on, pick him up. He is awake," you encouraged softly, reaching across to guide Robert's hand toward your son's small body.

Gingerly, Robert lifted him from the cradle, feeling like the weight of the world was now balanced precariously in his palms. Carefully, he held the infant close to his chest, feeling his fragile frame trembling slightly underneath the pressure of fatherhood. The sweet innocence radiating off of his son struck Robert hard, filling him with both immense pride and trepidation simultaneously.

"See, that's your daddy, my sweet boy," you whispered softly, your voice resonating with genuine tenderness as Robert rocked him gently.

"He looks just like you, Oppie," you added lightheartedly, referring to his striking features, causing a hint of laughter to surface in Robert's strained expression.

"He's got your smile though," Robert remarked pensively, gazing deeply into the baby's eyes which mirrored his own intensity. Seeing the resemblances brought forth fond memories of the days spent together when everything seemed perfect, a stark contrast to reality.

With tears beginning to pool in his eyes, Robert turned to face you, trying to hide his vulnerability behind a facade of bravado. Unable to maintain composure any longer, he wrapped you both in a protective embrace, holding onto you fiercely until, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Dr Oppenheimer! You must come quickly!" his secretary announced frantically, catching Robert unawares with the urgency in her voice. Startled, Robert glanced hurriedly towards you, hesitation evident in his eyes as he contemplated leaving your presence prematurely.

"Go, Robert! I will be here when you get back," you reassured him, stroking his arm affectionately as he moved closer to you.

Taking a deep breath, bidding you goodbye, Robert set off towards the sound of his secretary's distressed call and, before you knew it, he barged out the door. 

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[girlwithhat]

Well, as I've previously mentioned, I've been really into Geoffrey Whitehead Holmes and Donald Pickering Watson lately so...here's a fic. Dedicated to @aregularirregular221b whose enthusiasm for this series motivated me to finish.

TITLE: Shaken

SUMMARY: After the killer is arrested, Holmes reveals the conclusion of the case affected him more than he would care to admit. Watson reassures him.

NOTES: Occurs at the end of "The Case of the Blind Man's Bluff" after the killer is arrested and before the end cap scene the next morning.

Inspired by Watson immediately crossing the room and invading Holmes' personal space.

Holmes was keenly aware of Watson’s sweeping gaze on him as the killer was being taken into custody by Lestrade. The doctor had stepped closer than usual to assess him for any injuries or discomfort. This uncharacteristic invasion of personal space was no doubt a manifestation of his worry after seeing him being threatened with a sword cane. Seeking to calm himself after that emotionally charged confession and a successful conclusion to the case, he reached for his pipe and put it in his mouth. They both glanced at the chicken claw tied with black ribbon on the late Captain Pitt’s desk before leaving the room.

Once they were alone in the hansom back to Baker Street, Watson gave him another once-over.

“Holmes, are you alright?”

“Yes, Watson, quite.”

“He had a sword cane pointed at you when we came in. He could have--”

“I know. But I don’t believe he would have stabbed me.”

“He was desperate to keep his secret so he could continue on his path of revenge. Why wouldn’t he have killed you?”

“If you were in that position, would you have?”

“It’s difficult to say. Irrational actions would seem rational to an already addled mind.”

“He wasn’t addled. This entire ruse was cooly calculated: getting a crew list and tracking them down, entering rooms under false pretenses, pretending to be blind to lure his victims into a false sense of security. Oh no, Watson. He was rational, clear headed, and focused on his goal. Unfortunately, his thirst for revenge would never be satisfied, even if he killed every crewmember of The Gloria North.”

“But that adds to the argument that he would have stabbed you since you were in his way. You knew too much.”

“When we were alone, he was hoping I would understand and sympathize, that I would let him go. I disappointed him when he found out I believed one man cannot be judge and executioner, justified as he may be.”

“You believe he was justified in killing four men?”

“From his point of view. His wife and child, whose ends came too soon and so brutally, for strangers that were either directly or indirectly involved in their deaths. It could be seen that way.”

Arriving back at their rooms, Watson poured them each a brandy before settling in their chairs. With a sigh, Holmes found he couldn’t stop ruminating on the earlier confrontation.

“His eyes, Watson,” he said.

Watson took a sip of his drink. “What about them, Holmes?”

“The pain in them that would never be eased, caused by the unfairness of life through immense loss. An intense, irreplaceable love that can cause someone to lose their rationality. I may not have experienced that, but I do understand something of it.”

“You do?”

“I believe I do,” Holmes replied, studying the man across from him, “If something tragic and unfair had taken y--someone dearest to me, I would see revenge as a rational course of action. If it occurred while they were at my side, I wouldn't have let those responsible get out of the room alive. I can see the point of view of someone so fueled by anger and grief to seek retribution by any means.”

“At the expense of your morals?” Watson was surprised by the other man’s outburst of emotion and the ruthlessness he found there.

“A strong love is not always indicative of the purest morals.”

“That is true.” They were silent for some minutes before Watson spoke again, “In war, I’ve seen how unfair life and how senseless death can be. How it weighs on people. As a doctor, I don’t condone a death for a death but that is what justice demands under our laws.”

“As a doctor, could you kill in revenge?”

“Could I? I suppose anything is possible. But would I? In my rational mind, no. And I would hope that y--my beloved would know that my feelings, my love was still true, even if I could not bring myself to avenge them, should they come to harm.”

“They would certainly continue to admire you for being an upstanding gentleman and doctor. You are a much stronger and better man than I, dear Watson.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, Holmes.”

He looked down at his hands, which cradled his drink. “I was afraid tonight.”

“You were?”

“I was afraid you would arrive to find me dead.”

“But you said--”

“I didn’t want you to endure that. I didn’t believe he would kill me but for all the logic and empathy in the world, the unexpected can still occur and people’s actions can still be difficult to deduce.”

“Even for you?”

“Even for me. I can still make mistakes when compromised by emotions.”

Watson stood, taking their glasses and putting them on the table. “Emotions are not a detriment, Holmes.”

Holmes looked up. “I apologize if my mood has made you uncomfortable.”

“No, none of that,” Watson replied in a soothing tone as he helped Holmes out of his chair and pulled him close for an embrace. “You’re still shaken.”

Holmes closed his eyes for a few moments, syncing his breathing to the solidly steady and sure Watson.

“I don’t know why I’m so affected,” Holmes said, “I’ve been in perilous situations before.”

“It doesn’t matter. No one chooses what situations or people touch their hearts.”

“It took me by surprise,” Holmes replied as he cupped Watson’s face, “Just as you do.”

Watson smiled before their lips met gently. The doctor rested his hands on his friend’s slim hips. “I’m not surprised.”

“No?”

“I believe I knew before you. And may I make a bold deduction?”

“You may.”

“I deduce you want to kiss me again.”

Now it was Holmes' turn to smile. “That is true. What else can you deduce?”

“We should retire to my bedroom as I believe we’re suddenly feeling a bit warm in our clothes.”

The mischievous glint was back in Holmes’ eyes. “Excellent, doctor. I agree. Lead the way.”

END

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Surprise!

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: Rick loves sneaking up and scaring you when you least expect it. But turn about is fair play….

Word Count: 1371

(Fic is 100% inspired by this GIF)

You loved your boyfriend, but sometimes he could be a real jerk. Lately, Rick had gotten it into his head that his new favorite thing to do was to scare you. Well, more like surprise you. He would wait until you were coming out of the bedroom or walking down the hall, then he would use his Special Force stealth training to sneak up behind you and kiss your cheek, causing you to jump nearly through the ceiling. Or he would get home early from a mission and slide his arms around your waist while you were doing dishes, resulting in more than one broken glass. Or his latest endeavor had been tapping on your car window while you were checking emails on your phone, leading to you glaring back at his delighted face.

But the final straw came when you had arrived home after a really rough day at work. Throwing your keys onto the counter, you start searching through the refrigerator for any leftovers that might have been forgotten. You found an old container of Chinese food that still looked edible, so you grabbed a fork and started walking to the bedroom.

“Welcome home, darlin’.”

You jumped a foot into the air as you lost your grip on the container of food, shrimp and noodles spilling across the floor. You glared at the relaxed, grinning form of your boyfriend splayed out on the couch with a beer in his hand.

“Damn it, Rick! How many times do I have to tell you not to scare me like that! Now what I’m I supposed to eat?”

Rick held up his hands in self-defense. “Hey, I’ve been laying here for the past twenty minutes. It’s not my fault you’re not very observant. Besides, that stuff had been in there for over a week. I did you a favor.”

“You could have at least cleared your throat or given me some sort of sign you were there. We’ve talked about this!”

“I know, but you keep giving me the perfect opportunities. How am I supposed to just pass that up?”

You crossed your arms in annoyance. “Well, how would you like it if I scared you like that?”

He chuckled as he took another sip of his beer. “You could try, but I don’t get scared. Plus, I’ve been trained too well to let you get the drop on me.”

“Well, we’ll just see about that!” Turning around in a huff, you stormed off to the bedroom with Rick’s snickering following you down the hall.

For the first few days after the challenge had been issued, Rick was extra on edge, coiled like a spring just waiting for you to try something. But you were no idiot. You knew that if you wanted even the slightest chance to scare Rick, you needed to bide your time and wait until it wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. And slowly but surely, Rick began to relax again. He was no longer peeking around corners or entering a room as if scanning for armed gunmen. But it wasn’t until three weeks later that you finally got your perfect opportunity.

Your boss had given everyone an unexpected half-day so the IT Department could install updates on the office computers. This meant that you arrived back at the apartment early, but you didn’t think much of it until you opened the door and heard the shower running. A smile slowly stretched across your lips. Rick was expecting to have the apartment to himself for at least another four hours which meant…..

You heard the shower turn off and you quickly dove behind the couch, phone at the ready. There was no way you were going to miss the opportunity to catch this on film. You listened as the bathroom door opened and Rick’s feet padded down the hallway. Just as it sounded like he was at the edge of the living room, you burst up from your hiding spot and yelled, “Boo!”

It was even better than you had hoped. Rick was wearing nothing but his multicolored towel wrapped loosely around his waist. As you popped up, he jolted wildly, arms flailing and a surprisingly high-pitched scream coming from his lips. “Ahhh!!!...... Fuck!”

At this point, you were bent over, cackling in triumph and joy. You glanced up and were happy to see a small smile on Rick’s face.

“What? You think that was funny? Well, you got me good.”

Tears streaming from your eyes, you managed to choke out, “Oh my god! I’m sending this to everyone! Wait until Harley sees it! She’ll never show you any respect ever again! And DuBois! Has your old military buddy ever heard you screech like that?”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Rick growled, but you could still see the twinkle in his eyes. He rushed over and tried to grab the phone from your hands, but you dodged, twirling just out of his reach. A wide shit-eating grin spread across your face as you hit the send button and then tossed Rick the phone. “Here you go!”

He stared dumbfounded at your phone now in his hand. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

A small ding could be heard as Rick’s phone alerted him to a new message. Picking it up off the counter where he had left it charging, he glanced at the screen and then rolled his eyes in your direction. Turning it to face you, you could see the video you had just sent him with the bold message “GOT YOU” right above it.

“We both know you were going to try to downplay the fact I actually scared you. Just say you were startled, or your instincts kicked in. So, I wanted to make sure you saw the proof because there’s no denying that! I got the drop on and scared the great Rick Flag!” You smugly crossed your arms over your chest, daring him to refute the evidence.

Rick sighed sadly. “No, you’re right, darlin’. A man’s got to know when he’s been beaten. You scared me.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “That’s right I did. Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

“No. I understand why it bothers you. I’m sorry, and I’ll stop.”

“Thank you, babe. That’s all that I ask.”

Rick ducked his head so it hovered just a few inches above yours. “You know…. That could have been pretty dangerous. I am a highly trained soldier. If I had my gun on me, I might have seriously hurt you.”

“I thought about that, but I figured the chances of you having your gun just after coming out of the shower were very low. And it’s not like you could really hide it in that towel.” You leaned in closer to kiss him, but something stopped you. Trying to hide your smirk, you said, “Well, maybe I was wrong…. It seems like you’re packing something under there.”

Blushing slightly, Rick murmured, “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” He closed the distance between you as his lips crushed into yours. You ran one hand through the damp hair on the back of his head as the other hand ran along the top of the towel, right where the material met his skin. Just as your hand started to ease it lower, Rick’s work phone began to ring. He sighed annoyedly as he stepped away from you to grab it. Growling at the terrible timing, he answered, “Flag here.”

“Oh. My. God.” You could hear Harley’s voice squeaking through the phone even without it being on speaker. “I can’t believe she did it! She got you so good!.... And speaking of so good, I really like what I’m seeing here, Colonel. How ‘bout you wear just that towel on the next mission?”

Rick glared daggers at you as you shrugged sheepishly. “I might have sent it to a few other people besides just you.”

Hanging up the phone, Rick took a few steps towards you, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Oh, you are so dead.” You squealed as you rushed down the hall towards the bedroom, Rick close on your heels as he slammed the door behind him, his towel dropping to the floor.

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

build yourself a citadel amid the foothills of regret

surprise i actually wrote something! maybe the dragon is coming out of its thousand year sleep maybe this is just a one-off, we'll see, though this is just one fic I have planned for a series of COT codas loosely inspired by "how to rest" by the crane wives. anyways, enjoy!

content warnings: alcoholism, alcohol withdrawal, mentions of toxic relationship

Masterlist | AO3

As the dust settled around London and the way of things began to return just as they’d stopped, Alastair left the others to their tearful reunions. He wasn’t sure what to call them, not after they’d survived the end of the world together. Compatriots? Comrades? Perhaps, if he even dared to think of it, new friends? 

Sona was still in Idris, Cordelia had joined James in recanting their experiences to his parents, and Thomas had returned to his family to share in their grief. Thus, Alastair returned to the Institute. All of their careful work boarding the windows and doors would need to be removed, but that wasn’t his concern at the moment. Instead, he found a glass bottle filled with a tincture he’d created the night before while Thomas was resting, and set out to find someone else who seemed to have retired from the battlefield a bit early: Matthew Fairchild. 

He found him in the wing of the Institute that the group had claimed, back before Tatiana had arrived and turned the world upside down. Alastair knocked gently on the door. 

“What do you want?” Matthew groaned. 

Alastair took that as an invitation to enter. Looking Matthew over, he was glad he came. In all honesty, he was surprised that Matthew had held himself together so well until the battle was over. Now, he paced back and forth across the room, his skin pale and sweaty, dark circles settling beneath his eyes. 

Alastair held up the bottle. “I have something that might make you feel better. Or at least help you sleep.” 

Matthew narrowed his eyes. 

“I asked Grace to find Christopher’s notes on what he was mixing for you. I figured you must have run out fairly quickly in Edom.” 

Matthew’s hand shook as he took the bottle, but he managed to open it without much fumbling. “I- You did this, for me?” 

Alastair didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to say that it was Thomas’ idea, which was a lie, or that he only did it because of how Cordelia and Thomas cared for him, which was also not completely true. But the truth was dangerous. The truth was that he cared, but at heart he was still a child terrified of being rejected. So, he said nothing. 

Matthew took a weak sip and sat down on his bed. “I don’t understand you,” he confessed. “You bring me this, you save me from a certain, spearful death, you stand outside my apartment all night long in the middle of January-” 

“I told Thomas not to tell you that.” 

“He didn’t. Did you think I lived in a building that lacked Sighted security?” 

Alastair shrugged. “I figured you’d chosen it simply because it has the most arrogant and atrocious architectural design in all of London.” 

Matthew rolled his eyes. "It seems as though I've been allowing your poor tastes to color my judgment of you." 

"It's an easy mistake, what with all the brain damage that wretched pink siding must be causing." The conversation was reminiscent of their earlier ones back at school, but this time, neither of them meant any true malice. They were bantering . 

"Thank you," Matthew said genuinely. 

"It was nothing," Alastair deflected. "All of the ingredients were already here-" 

"I don't just mean Kit's sedative. Thanks for having my back at Westminster Abbey." 

"Anyone would have done it.” 

“But it wasn’t anyone, it was you.” Matthew hesitated before continuing, “I’m starting to see what drew you and Thomas together, he is also wretchedly awful at accepting gratitude.” 

Alastair hadn’t spent enough time with Thomas to know that about him yet, but remembering how sheepish he’d become each time he complimented him, he could easily imagine it. 

“By the Angel, you’re really in love with him, aren’t you?” 

Alastair’s shoulders tensed. “What?” 

“You’re grinning like a madman, and all I did was mention his name! You’re standing there like a lovesick puppy- Raziel, I’m going to be sick, and it’s not even from the alcohol this time.” 

He did his best to avoid Matthew’s gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I mean, Thomas is wonderful, of course, but I don’t- We’re not- It’s not-” 

“Why won’t you let yourself be happy?” 

Alastair couldn’t think about it for too long. Memories flooded his mind. Elias, telling him he was worthless, a burden, a pitiful excuse for a son. Charles, convincing him that he didn’t deserve to be treated as anything more than an afterthought. There were memories of school, too, of cruel boys mocking him and hurting him and tearing up the letters his sister sent him. Happiness was never worth the risk of someone looking to take it away. 

He didn’t have the words to explain it. “I’m trying to- I’m trying.” 

“Okay, fine. I’ll quit being a thorn in your side. You can go. I know you’re just doing this because I remind you of your father.” 

“That would make sense, wouldn’t it? But you’re wrong. You don’t remind me of Elias; you don’t even remind me of Charles, though the Angel knows your bone structure is nearly identical.” 

“If this is your way of flirting with me, you should know it’s never going to work.” 

Alastair rolled his eyes. “I’m doing this because you’re a person, and all people deserve to rest, even you.” 

“Now, where was this basic human kindness back when we were schoolboys?” 

Alastair considered explaining that he always understood the way that his words cut. He knew, but it didn’t matter, because he had just been a boy drowning in an endless ocean, and as the salt water coated his throat and began to fill his lungs, it hadn't mattered to him who he might be pulling under the waves in an attempt to break the surface for another gulp of air. It was instinct, and he was sorry, but he couldn't change the past. 

“I’m not looking for forgiveness from anyone, much less you,” Alastair said finally. “You don’t believe that you deserve rest, that you deserve peace, do you?” 

Matthew didn’t respond. 

“Well, I doubt I’m going to be the one to convince you, but I’ll try anyway. After Charles and I broke up, he sent me letter after letter, he cornered me at every social gathering, and for the most part, all I wanted was for him to leave me alone. But some deeper, more twisted part of me wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to hurt the way that I had hurt, and I know that he’s your brother, but I won’t apologize for saying it.

“And then he did. He nearly died and he was lonely and in pain and it was everything I should have wanted, but it didn’t make me feel any better. It didn’t erase any of my own suffering. It was just more pain. And I think I learned two things. First, that Charles is awful and I am never going to let him back into my life. And second, that a selfish person is just a person. And no person deserves to suffer. 

“I think that once you’ve accepted that everyone deserves peace, even your worst enemies - especially your worst enemies - it becomes easier to accept that you yourself deserve peace, too, no matter what mistakes you’ve made.” 

“That…” Matthew’s voice trailed off, searching for a quip that he could not find. “That seems wise.” 

Alastair nodded towards the bottle. “You should get some rest before your family comes looking for you. You look like something your dog chewed up and spit out on your doorstep.”

Matthew grinned sleepily, the sedative finally setting in. “There’s the Alastair I recognize.”

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this, I would love to hear your thoughts (or even just that you liked it!) I really appreciate it!

taglist: @life-through-the-eyes-of @astriefer @justanormaldemon @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @all-for-the-fanfiction @amchara @ddepressedbookworm @wagner-fell @imsoftforthomastair @queenlilith43 @stxr-thxif @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @sheisbeautyweareworldass @ikissedsmithparker @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @sapphic-in @fortheloveofthecarstairs @tessherongraystairs @thewarthatsavedmylife-blog @grace-lightwoodd @rainingpouringetc @thomastaircompassrose @kiwichaeng @yozinha-z @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @who-beingloved-ispoor-blog @lightwoodsimp @americann-idiot @thomaslightwood @cant-think-of-anything @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone

[letsgofoletsgo]

What You’re Made Of

This is a fic that was inspired by Western Energy, as I thought it would be interesting to see Caraway in this kind of spot. Now did I stretch his character a bit here? Sure, but I had fun writing it nonetheless.

TW: Violence, blood, torture

Also putting the song here bc it  inspired the title for the fic.

~

The first thing that Caraway realized was the sagging feeling in his upper body. His neck ached as his head hung forward, his torso held up with tight rope. Opening his eyes, he attempted to gauge his surroundings, fighting his groggy disorientation. The room he was in was small and dark, illuminated only by a hanging light overhead. There were no discernible windows, only a door across from him and a table adjacent to it. 

As Caraway came to, the severity of the situation dawned on him. The rope around his body squeezed against him as he struggled, his arms bound firmly to his back. His legs were mostly free, but couldn’t reach anything that could help him. Despite the growing panic in his core, Caraway attempted to look at the situation with a level head. He tried to remember how he got here, where he was, who he was with. He vaguely remembered being with Wyverna and Chervil, in what he thought was the outskirts of some town. His memory faltered from that point, only remembering that they agreed to contact each other with their terraspheres if anything came up…

Wait, his terrasphere! That’s it! He could activate his terrasphere and-

Caraway’s stomach dropped when he realized his earring was gone. 

He knew he had it when he left, whoever was behind this must’ve taken his terrasphere as well. Without it, he was a sitting duck. Panic began to show on Caraway’s face, eyes darting frantically for any means of escape. He felt like the room was closing in, he attempted to call out but the ropes against his chest felt too tight to breathe.

His mind was so preoccupied, he found himself startled by a sound from across the room. The doorknob turned. 

The door swung open, and Caraway recognized the pink-haired figure in the doorway immediately.

“Mandrake?!” He exclaimed, air finally returning to his lungs. 

“Bout time you woke up.” Mandrake smirked, entering the room. 

“W-What am I doing here? How did I get here?”

“You really don’t remember, huh?” He chuckled. “You and some of your guardian buddies were wandering around town, and when you decided to split up, it was all a matter of catching you off guard.”

Caraway racked his memory, trying to piece together what happened. 

“Hell, even if I do have an advantage in that area, you’re one of the most skilled guardians around; I almost feel bad with how easy it was to lure you into a sleeping spell.” Mandrake gloated with a condescending tone, pacing the room. “Though, to your credit, you did eventually realize what was happening, even if it was too late.” 

He vaguely remembered running into Wyverna unexpectedly, and then…

Caraway mentally kicked himself as he put two and two together.

“But… Why me?” He asked, trying to remain upright. 

“Cause of the bunch, you were the easiest to ‘acquire’, so to speak. The demon has magic not confined to a terrasphere, and dragging a centaur all the way out here is easier said than done.” 

“Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Hm, I could tell you, but I think it would be more fun if I didn’t. Besides, you won’t be here long. You’ll be headed to Witch Country first thing tomorrow.” He was eerily casual as he spoke.

Caraway’s head was spinning, questions flooded his murky psyche. His head pounded as he waded through foggy memories, trying to get a grip on the situation. “Witch Country? Why? What do you want from me?” 

“If I’m honest, I’m probably not supposed to tell you this, but I’ll let you in on a little secret. If all goes to plan, you’d make for the perfect bargaining chip.” 

“What- What are you talking about??”

Mandrake rolled his eyes. “Well, I can’t tell you everything, that would ruin the surprise. Besides, all they told me was you needed to be alive, never specified what condition you had to be in.”

With a sickening *shing*, he brandished a knife from his pocket. “And I’ve got a bone to pick with you, ‘professor’.”

The silvery sheen glinted against the ceiling light, reflecting in Caraway’s narrowing pupils. His calm, collected front was starting to crack, and Mandrake relished in it, taking sadistic pride in how his eyes were glued to the blade. 

“My plan would’ve gone perfectly if you didn’t intervene.” He began to approach, anger creasing along his face. “You just had to stick your nose where it didn’t belong. If it weren’t for you, no one would have suspected a thing. Instead, I had to come crawling back with my tail between my legs, and beg for my life. You will never know what it's like, to plead on your knees just for the chance to live.” He spat. 

Mandrake was mere feet away from Caraway, his scowl slowly fading. “But now? You’re no better than I was, subject to another’s mercy.” 

Caraway took a breath, regaining himself as he looked at him with a genuine expression, hiding his fear behind understanding eyes. “I’m sorry you went through that, Mandrake. I did what I had to do to protect my students, I never-”

“Don’t.” he snapped, swiftly bringing the blade inches from Caraway’s neck. “I’m not falling for that charade.” 

He lifted his neck away from the knife, but kept his composure. “Mandrake, just listen to me. You don’t have to live this life you’ve been forced into. I can help you, you just need to let me-”

Caraway was cut off by a searing pain in his shoulder, Mandrake striking before he could blink. A guttural cry ripped from his throat, doubling over as far as the ropes would allow.

“SHUT UP.” Mandrake barked, now bristling with fury. 

With a growl, he severed the ropes holding Caraway to the wall, then pushed him onto the ground with a loud thud. 

“I am so tired of listening to your bullshit. You think you’re nothing short of immortal because of your power. You think you’re invincible, and you’ve got your perfect friends to back you up when you feel the slightest bit threatened. Let me be the one to break the news to you, teach; you’re no fucking god.” 

Venom spewed from Mandrake's lips, eager for a vulnerable spot to latch onto. Yet, even with his wound staining his deep blue coat, Caraway’s gaze remained focused.

“You’re right, I’m not immortal.” He stated as steadily as he could. “However, you forget one thing; I'm not entirely helpless either-!” 

Planting his feet on the ground, Caraway struck out with his right leg, violently connecting with Mandrake’s lower jaw. He recoiled backwards, hands flying to his jaw as he stumbled. He couldn’t deny himself a small notion of victory at the sight, but upon seeing the flame ignited in his eyes as a result, the sense of dread returned. 

“Not helpless, you say?” A stream of blood was trickling from the side of his mouth.

He dove to grab Caraway’s right ankle, raising his leg into the air. Positioning the knife in his hand, he sank it into his calf, his technique more calculated this time. This earned another cry, more drawn out as the blade sank deeper. Mandrake savored the sight of his blood rapidly spreading along the fabric, grinning wickedly as it dripped off his knife. 

“Let’s see just how helpless you are without your magic.” He dropped his leg haphazardly, Caraway wincing as it hit the ground. 

When Mandrake looked back to him, he expected a look of panic and agony. However, in place of any vulnerable pleadings for mercy, Caraway was… Smiling? 

“... Fine. If you won’t listen, then I’ll play your game.” Holding his head up just slightly, his eyebrow was cocked in a challenging expression. “On my fourth mission, I went toe-to-toe with a Manticore, and I got much worse than a few jabs.”

This seemed to set something off in Mandrake. Without a word, he dropped down as he plunged the knife into his thigh. Caraway’s reaction was pained, but much more restrained. 

“My seventh mission, had to fend off a flock of harpies. They hit a lot harder than that.”

Yanking the blade out of his flesh, Mandrake rose. “Ah, you think you’ve got this all figured out, don’t you?” 

He knelt beside Caraway’s neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair and lifting his head. “Because I don’t think you realize, I could slit your throat right now, and that would be game over for you.” 

Even so, his resolve remained steadfast. “Had a dragon nick my neck during my twelfth mission. Think you could do better?”

Mandrake’s patience had run out. The desired reaction was locked from his reach, and he’d grown bored. Tossing his head back to the ground, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Caraway waited a few moments to see if he was truly gone. Once Mandrake’s footsteps left the hallway, his manufactured confidence melted away, a strained sigh leaving his lips. His body tensed as the full extent of the pain registered, his blood now spilling onto the floor. The unrelenting sensation coupled with the cold, hard floor beneath him, his emotions welled up in the back of his throat. Facing away from the door, a couple stray tears fell down his face. 

~

Caraway didn’t know how long he lay there before Mandrake returned. Given that he wanted to keep him alive, he switched to the method of smaller cuts around his body, but didn’t lessen his ruthless remarks. After what felt like hours, Mandrake seemed to let up. At this point, pain was radiating all throughout Caraway’s body, his clothes soaked with scattered blood stains. His breathing was labored, eyes shut as he began to reach his limit. 

Mandrake tapped the knife against the table, tipping his head back. ‘You know, I’ve been having fun and all…” He sauntered towards Caraway. “But I’ve been thinking.” 

Mandrake stood to Caraway’s side, vision wandering. “After our time is up, what am I gonna do next? Don’t get me wrong, it's satisfying as it is to see you put in your place, but it occurred to me, what if I went the extra mile?” He brought the knife to his chin, propping his elbow on his forearm as if he were deep in thought. “So I wondered, what could I do that would be the cherry on top?” He meandered to the other side of the room, head bobbing from side to side as he went. “After thinking it over, I remembered those little friends of yours.”

This got Caraway’s attention, finally opening his eyes once again. Mandrake could hear him strain as he lifted his head.

“Don’t you dare bring them into this.” He glared, staring him down. 

Mandrake smiled. There’s the weak spot he was looking for. 

“I’m thinking I could pay them a little visit. Though, I still haven’t decided which one I should play with first.”

Thinking out loud, Mandrake’s body began to shift. Caraway’s stomach turned as his body morphed into a familiar figure, his frame grew taller and ivory hair spilled as it overtook his natural pink. 

“Maybe I’ll go for the elf first. Don’t know if I’ll kill her or not, but I’d certainly like to see a few gashes on her lovely skin.” His voice now mimicked Aloe’s.

Turning back to Caraway, Mandrake  brought the knife near his neck, taunting him as he forced the thought of her in his place. A lovely mix of fear and rage burned in Caraway’s eyes, complimenting his battered body perfectly. 

“Oooh, what if I did it in front of her wife?”

He shifted again, his hair retracting to a shorter, purple cut. A leather vest replaced the white dress, and his voice was now that of Anise’s. 

“Wonder how she’d react, seeing her love under a knife right in front of her. Maybe she’d offer herself in her place.” He waved his knife as he described his fantasy. “Of course, I’m not cruel; I’d oblige to her request.” 

Mandrake simply stood to admire the mental image he had painted, almost salivating over the suffering he was to cause; When suddenly, his face lit up in realization. 

“Wait, I almost forgot; There’s one more to your group, isn’t there?” 

Once more, he shifted. His hair grew longer once again, now raven in hue. The vest grew into a blue, loose-fitting blouse. His legs morphed into a non-human shape, two grayish hooves at the end of black fur. 

“That centaur you have a soft spot for.” 

The sight of this near-perfect replica of Coriander, voice uncannily sickening as he stared back with piercing red eyes, had Caraway seeing red. 

“Do not speak of her.” His anger was only restrained by his pain. “How dare you even-”

“I thought you of all people would know that it's rude to interrupt.” Mandrake cut him off. “I’m about to get to the best part after all.” 

He stepped towards Caraway again, the clicking of hooves echoing about the room. “I’d save her for last, so much sweeter that way. I can see it now, she cries and pleads as she watches her friends get sliced open.” 

Mandrake stood over Caraway, staring down with a lethal look. 

“She’d beg for me to stop, to show mercy, to let her friends go. Maybe she’d bargain, maybe offer to go back to Witch Country with me, sort things out herself.”

He then sank down, straddling Caraway and bringing the knife back up to his own throat. “Only for me to turn around and slash her pretty little neck.”

Caraway was seething, almost snarling as he spoke. “If you go anywhere near Coriander or my friends, I will kill you.”

Even through his wounds, the fury of his expression threatened the boy with a fate far worse than he received himself. Mandrake only laughed, awash with power and satisfaction at his broken reaction.

“Oh, I’d love to see you try, my love.” He ran his hand down the knife as he turned it vertically against his throat, teasing in a sing-song voice. 

Caraway was about to retort- when a loud noise came from the door. Mandrake swiveled around, his knife flying to his side. A black, almost fiery essence burst through the doorway, enveloping half the room in an ashy blaze. In a blur, Mandrake leapt from the ground, managing to dash out of sight. The consuming flame flickered and danced in his wake, but couldn’t quite catch him. 

Snaking inward to contain itself, the flame doused to reveal a horned figure. She peered into the hall to see if Mandrake had made himself scarce. Caraway breathed his first sigh of relief in hours upon recognizing her as Dretch. 

She then turned back to him, eyes widening as she registered the situation “Shit- Caraway!” She rushed over to him immediately, scanning his body to assess the extent of his injuries. 

“Am I glad to see you.” He smiled weakly, a wince suppressing his tone. 

“You and me both- god, what did that kid do to you?” Concern was evident on her face as she hovered over him “Just save your energy, I’ll get you out of here.”

Caraway could hardly manage a response. While relief washed over him, the true extent of his exhaustion and pain hit him like a brick. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy, vision blurring as consciousness left him. 

The last thing he remembered was Wyverna returning to her fiery state, lifting him as they made their escape.

[tomicaleto]

a kiss, so consumed by each other, barely enough strength left to breathe💐

Hi anon!

I'm so so so sorry this took me so long, I was going through a terrible block when I got this prompt, then I left for a trip and couldn't write at all and then came back to a new hyper busy term. So between the writer's block, the amount of stuff I had to do for class and even some sad feelings in general, writing was kinda low these last couple of months

But fear not! I have come up with an idea for this prompt and it's around 2k words so!

Here you go

a hundred kissing details

Also on AO3!

EDIT: I forgot to add! this fic was also inspired by this wonderful fanart

The war had only been over for a couple of months and the peace and recovery efforts were still going strong. 

The Republic’s political sphere had been completely turned into chaos as the reality of Chancellor Palpatine’s true identity and his actual role in the war was revealed. For the first week after his death, the Jedi order had withdrawn into their temple. For too long they had been forced to fight and die into a now pointless conflict and their first step before going out and helping fix the galaxy was to begin healing themselves. 

Three of the High Council masters had died against Palpatine, and Master Windu and Anakin had both been greatly injured in the fight and now were recovering in the med bay. Jedi Knights were returning home for the first time in several months, masters reuniting with their padawans. For the first time in three years, most Jedi were back home, but it was clear how much their numbers had suffered during the war. 

Obi-Wan had arrived shortly after the official announcement had been made, his only thoughts as he reached the temple had been to seek Anakin out. A fierce protectiveness had taken over him. Anakin had been his padawan, his best friend, the other half of his soul. And now it had been revealed the old man who Anakin had considered as a friend had been pretending all this time in order to poison his mind. 

He blamed himself, how had he been so blind as to not have seen it before? How was Anakin feeling about the situation? 

The Jedi healer that welcomed him didn’t seem surprised to see Obi-Wan there. They guided him towards Anakin’s bed. He was asleep, put into a dreamless state to avoid him causing a mess. “His emotions are a storm right now. From what we managed to check before inducing his current state, he felt angry, but also guilty and stupid. We believe he must blame himself for not having seen the Sith’s machinations. It’s likely that the Dark Side has been affecting his psyche as well, exponentially increasing his reactions.” 

Obi-Wan winced. How could Anakin even believe that? It was clear he was a victim in this situation. Obi-Wan took a seat next to him and grabbed one of his hands, caressing the back of it. He could only hope after Anakin was finished healing that the lack of war and the comfort of the Jedi order would bring peace of mind to his restless mind. 

The contact of their hands had Anakin groaning and shifting in his bed, but he remained asleep. 

Weeks passed before either Mace or Anakin were recovered enough for the healers to consider waking Anakin up. Even Mace woke on his own, slowly retelling the whole battle against Sidious to the remaining members of the Council on their improvised meeting, the ones on Coruscant crowding the med bay, the ones still away, on holo. 

Obi-Wan listened to him, still holding Anakin’s hand, observing how his scars had taken a deep reddish hue, like spider webs across his neck. The Sith had apparently not spared any lightning while fighting Mace and Anakin, his own former padawan had his own scars blooming across his neck. 

A new chancellor was temporarily elected, and peace talks between the senators from the Confederacy and the Republic slowly began, as the Senate kept trying to salvage the messy field Palpatine had left behind. Questions about his closest political allies began gaining weight and the Senate and petitions to have them investigated by the Judicial Department and tried were pushed forwards. 

News arrived at the temple from the maintenance crew, from special messengers sent from the Senate, from news sources, always transmitted in the common areas of the temple and even from one or two brave padawans that dared visit the Senate and see what the actual arena looked like.  

The Council was in session almost every hour, all days of the week. As soon as Mace was deemed well enough to go back to his duties, he left the med bay, and with him, he took Obi-Wan’s excuse to remain there during the meetings. He still went back after each day, when the night had taken over Coruscant’s skies, feeling his shoulders drop with exhaustion. He often fell asleep clutching Anakin’s hand, and woke with his back aching thanks to the awkward posture held through the night. 

Weeks went by, treaties between planets were discussed, several senators and other political figures were held in custody and investigated. The frantic pace of the first month began slowing down, allowing everyone in the galaxy a moment to breathe. Even the Force felt lighter, like a ray of sunlight after weeks of rain, not quite warm yet. Coruscant spring cycle just beginning.       

As Obi-Wan softly snored against the thin sheet of the med bay, Anakin blinked his eyes open, squinting at first, and swallowing three times to try and ease his dry throat. He felt disoriented, and his whole body ached, phantom feelings of lighting coursing through his veins. He looked around, as the sounds of the ships soaring through Coruscant’s busy lanes began growing stronger. He felt as if he had been underwater for decades, and was just now coming out for air. 

There was an annoying sound close to him, different to the mechanical sounds of the medical equipment. Everything was too loud, a headache making him frown. The Force was blaring in his ears like it hadn’t since he had been a child, even before becoming a Jedi. His shields seemed to be non-existent but Anakin found himself unable to rebuild them. Trying to mute the sensations somehow, he turned his head on the pillow, eyes closed, and opened them to find Obi-Wan asleep, hand wrapped tightly around his own. 

He opened his mouth, lips chapped dry and made a pitiful attempt to wake his master. It took him several tries before he managed to groan a low “Obi-Wan”. He didn’t think anyone around had heard him, so quiet he had spoken.

But Obi-Wan sprung awake like he had been burned, eyes wide open and wild, looking frantically around, as if looking for an enemy or a threat, before his eyes settled on Anakin staring at him from his pillow. 

He relaxed and closed his eyes, as if he were about to go back to sleep, and Anakin was sure he would. But then he startled again and turned towards Anakin, a look of awe taking over his face as he registered that Anakin was indeed awake and staring at him. 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, leaning down towards Anakin’s face, making him wince as his Force presence soared against Anakin’s mind. He immediately retreated at Anakin’s face, a soft apology murmured between them. “How are you feeling?” 

And that was the big question, wasn’t it? How was Anakin feeling? After the last fight he remembered, his feelings still a mess and his body a mix of pain and new scars. 

He was released from the med bay a month after waking, with orders to keep up with his physical therapy. But Obi-Wan could see Anakin was quickly growing restless. He had spent almost two months trapped in the same room, and was clearly working through some stuff in his mind. Obi-Wan wished he could help Anakin, he often lent an open ear, and sometimes was lucky enough that Anakin would offer some small piece of the process he was dealing with inside his mind. He would often find Anakin meditating in the gardens, standing straight at the edge of one of the pools, hands firmly grasped together behind his back. 

His shields had been rebuilt to their very basics, just enough to keep people out and his own thoughts in, but open enough to let the Force filter through. Such was the way Obi-Wan found him that afternoon. His face was impassive, and by the flow of the Force around him, it was clear he was deep into meditation.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, he stood next to Anakin, staring at the ripples that broke the calm surface of the pool. They stayed like that for a few moments, until Obi-Wan felt Anakin shift and turned to find him slowly blinking his eyes open.

“Done with your meditation for the day?” He asked, going for a light tone. Anakin nodded, his shoulders dropping with a tired sigh. Obi-Wan ached for him, and hurried to propose an idea he’d come up with to try cheer Anakin up. “I was thinking of going to Dex’s for dinner tonight, would you like to come with me?”

Dex’s was brimming with life, apparently a busy night, but Obi-Wan didn’t mind, it was easier to make plans without being noticed like that. They ordered and hurried towards an empty table before it could be occupied by anyone else, and soon he was slurping some noodles as Anakin dug into his own meal, a wrap filled with various vegetables and bantha meat, with some extra sauce to seal the deal. Obi-Wan waited until Anakin had swallowed several bites before talking. 

“I’ve been talking with the Council,” he began, carefully. “About taking some leave in a couple of days.” He finished, as Anakin’s shoulders tensed. 

“That’s… that’s wonderful, master, you deserve it after your efforts in this farce of a war.” Anakin murmured, no longer eating, his wrap carefully set on a cardboard tray.

“Anakin.” He huffed, amused. “I’m not going alone, I asked them to let me take you with me.” 

And so, a week later, they were setting down their luggage in a fancy resort Padmé had recommended. While Obi-Wan opened the windows and let the air flow into the room, Anakin marched into the bathroom. Naboo had wonderful water showers, which Anakin had grown to love. 

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan breathed in the clean air, enjoying the view of unending green, waterfalls and clean skies. He’d been at Naboo on several occasions but had never been able to take in the scenery, there had always been something more important to take care of first. 

The sound of the bathroom’s door sliding open broke him out of his thoughts, Anakin waking out with a towel around his hips, drying his curls with another one. Shamelessly, Obi-Wan let himself admire Anakin’s back and how his muscles shifted with each movement. Then, as Anakin dropped the towel into a laundry facility, he turned away to allow him some privacy while he got dressed. 

“So,” Anakin began, “what are your plans for today?” 

They visited the nearby town, checking out stands and buying street food to snack on as they walked. On Anakin’s demand, they entered a mechanic store and Anakin even bought some spare parts. (“For Artoo,” he had claimed.) When Anakin caught Obi-Wan eyeing the local library, he dragged him in, and followed him around as Obi-Wan roamed the halls, even getting a couple of original paper books. (“These are quite rare to find!”)

The morning flew by and soon they were sitting at a small restaurant, enjoying some light soup made of local vegetables. Anakin’s demeanor had improved since leaving Coruscant and Obi-Wan was happy to see him loosen up. They would have to find a place for Anakin to work on his physical therapy routine, but he hoped they wouldn’t have to travel back to the resort so soon. 

“You know,” Anakin said, swallowing a spoonful of soup. “We’re not far from the fields I visited with Padmé, when I had to protect her.” He paused and looked at Obi-Wan from under his lashes. “Would you like to see?” 

Reaching the meadows forced them to take a small transport to leave the town. Anakin seemed a bit lost, telling Obi-Wan the road taken with Padmé had been different, as the house they had stayed at had been much closer than the town they were at. 

The local who had offered to take them there left them thirty minutes away from the falls, so they walked and walked, comfortable silence between them. Obi-Wan took in the scenery, but was distracted by Anakin by his side. He had been getting distracted by Anakin for years now, but with the war over, he finally let himself indulge in his staring. 

Eventually, they got close enough to the lake’s shores, and Anakin dropped on the soft grass, taking off his boots and socks, stretching his toes and wriggling them. Obi-Wan sat down next to him, following his example and snorted when Anakin relaxed onto his back.

“C’mon, master, the grass won’t bite.” He teased, leaning his weight on one arm. Obi-Wan shrugged and mirrored Anakin’s pose. They were millimeters apart and Obi-Wan didn’t miss the way Anakin’s eyelids dropped closed. 

“You’re right,” he whispered, softly grabbing Anakin’s chin and guiding his face closer, his eyes dark as Anakin’s lips fell slightly open. Anakin only made a questioning humming sound. “It won’t bite, but I do.” 

And without missing a breath, he closed the distance between them, swallowing Anakin’s soft gasp and licking his soft lips open with his tongue. Anakin melted into the kiss, letting himself be pushed onto his back as Obi-Wan deepened the kiss. They didn’t break apart, even when Anakin’s hands clawed onto Obi-Wan’s back, even when Obi-Wan’s own hands started exploring Anakin’s body with ravenous hunger. 

He pushed his love into the kiss, his years-long longing, his desperation to see Anakin alright after being so close to losing him. And Anakin answered with full force his own feelings shoved into the kiss. 

They only pulled away when the lack of air forced Anakin to gasp, his chest heaving and his cheeks deeply flushed. And even as he let him recover, Obi-Wan began peppering his face with kisses, following the curve of his jaw, nibbling on his ear, and pressing a heartfelt kiss on his forehead.  When he leaned back, Anakin was staring at him with watery eyes and a small smile on his lips. “Hello there.” 

“Hello there, master.” Anakin’s right hand slid over Obi-Wan’s back until he buried it into his hair, playing with it for a bit before cupping Obi-Wan’s beard. “Kiss me again?” 

And as they were lulled by the sound of the waterfalls near them, Obi-Wan began a new kiss.           

Thank you for sending this prompt!

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Forever Pays for Forever - A Jaylah fic

She knew they came for her. That was what families did for each other. She didn’t open her eyes as she took a deep breath and fell backwards into the pool.

The only thing she remarked as she hit the pool was that it didn’t feel like it was filled with water. Instead, something more viscous. Like custard.

~~~~

A snippet of a fic idea where Jaylah's struggling with her mental health and the crew want to help.

Words: 3076

Inspired by Alone Again by the Weeknd

~~~~

For a city that was supposed to have plentiful people, it was empty at night. Blue, purple and pink lights blending together as they shone out of windows and from the sides of buildings. Trickling of water features filled the silence as electric cars paced past behind her. Dark shop windows, shadows of their products adding to the eclectic mix of abyss. 

She stopped in front of the skyscraper. Clouds covered the top, she couldn’t see an end and wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t one. A never ending building stretching across the galaxy didn’t sound far fetched. 

If she had to describe it in one word it would be non descript. There weren’t many signs but they weren’t needed. Everyone knew what this building was. She did, her crew did, Starfleet did, the entire city was the way it was because of this building. And she would soon be one of them, of the population that was causing so much concern to Starfleet that they’d sent their best crew to figure it out. 

Only because members of Starfleet were being affected. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

Automatic doors slipped open as she entered. Her eyes stayed on the floor as the staff, who never seemed to sleep, welcomed her with the same glittering but empty smiles.

The owner behind the counter didn’t smile exactly, but his face wasn’t resting either. Quiet contemplation, and a little ego, were all she could describe it as. Like he’d won something but the win wasn’t worth it, like it was painful or something. From what she knew of this facility, he didn’t approach any of the others, customers, she questioned, with that kind of look. It must be her. She wasn’t very surprised.

She didn’t know where to look. Not when they were all focused on her in a way that just felt strange, off-putting. Swallowing her anxiety, she half put on the well practised mask of knowing what the fuck she was doing on a day to day basis. She didn’t want them to think this was anything to do with them, their half formed threats and putrid intrigue into all them. So she spoke first.

“Can you do the procedure?” She went with. “On me?”

“Of course,” Sybok said. 

She nodded. Gulped and swatted the dutch braids off her shoulders. They were fraying at the edges now, she wouldn’t remember Uhura doing them in an hour. Something deep pitted screamed yet, if she looked deeper, the idea of knowing absolutely nothing of her own life was so comforting. It was why she came here in the first place.

“I have a condition,” she added. “No one else, you do it to no one else.”

That changed Sybok’s face. It wasn’t a facade but was well practised. She wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, or whether he was just plain impressed.

“I can’t do that.” Was all he said.

“At least not to anyone in Starfleet, they’ll leave this alone then.”

“From what I know about Starfleet, that’s now how they work, they’ll stop us, if we take the deal or not,”

He moved from behind the counter and impeded her personal space in an intimate way. It wasn’t to intimidate her, she could tell that, but rather to get her alone. He was skilled at this. Skilled at getting people to drop their masks out of pure fear of being outed as a fraud. 

“You’re just saying that to make yourself feel better,” he said. “And there’s nothing to feel bad about, this is a safe and welcomed procedure, I can tell you need it, Jaylah, to forget your pain.”

He stepped away. One of the other staff, still smiling, had opened one of the doors. He gestured to it, then offered to take his. 

“You’ll take it, right?”

He nodded. She looked outside and sighed. They, her crew, didn’t need her. Scotty may argue differently but they’d survived many missions without her, what was another one. She was meant to die in Krall’s camp, that was one fact she knew, so she was going to let Jaylah, as she was now, die like she should’ve done all those years ago. It was better for everyone.

“All the pain will be gone.” He assured.

She took his hand. 

~~~~

Scotty raced faster than Jim had ever seen him. He wasn’t unfit, Starfleet wouldn’t let you be, but this was a level he’d never seen. This city wasn’t small by any means but he swore they’d travelled across it faster than any of the electric cars could, he was sure.

As the building cleared like a meadow in a forest, Scotty turned around, panting and urged them forward.

“It’s not far, maybe we can talk her out of it, come on!”

Jim went to say something but he took off again. Their feet slapped on the paving blocks. Panting filling the gaps that this empty city didn’t fill. God, this city was so fake. Spilling with life and joy but the moment you turned your head, took a second to look a little closer, it all fell apart in shatters. That’s what this city was for, for the people in shatters.

He just never thought that Jaylah was one of them.

~~~~

Alone in the changing room, she took off her haphazardly thrown on clothes, a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of shorts, and lay them on the bench in front of her. That was from her first concert. James T took her and showed her what a mosh pit was.

She’d loved it. Beats and shouting. A way to release all the screams she couldn’t let out normally. She still spoke to James T about music, she might miss that. It wouldn’t matter soon.

~~~~

It was lucky the doors were automatic, otherwise Jim genuinely thought that Scotty might just rip them apart using pure rage and all encompassing fear.

There was a door to their left. Its glass was glazed over for privacy. A screen above the counter, not attended by anyone, showed people with blank yet happy faces with text about getting rid of pain over them. There was a bell on the counter and a fake potted plant, the marble was a veneer.

“Fuck!” Scotty yelled. “There’s a code, does anyone remember it?”

They turned to Spock. He shut his eyes and sighed. With steps so careful that Jim could see Scotty visibly turning a darker shade of red, he approached the keypad and entered a long number code that made Jim want to kiss Spock’s logical brain for having  memory.

There was a beep and a click. Scotty yanked the door open and bolted through it.

Jim rubbed his fingers against forehead and started after him, “Wait for us, Scotty.”

But they were a little too slow, they had just sprinted over two miles in less than fifteen minutes. Beyond the door, there were multiple corridors leading to who knows where. They couldn’t hear Scotty’s frantic footsteps anywhere and knew that they had to split up and find him, but who knew how many more corridors there were beyond each door.

“Where is she you lying fuck!” Came a seething threat from who could only be Scotty.

He backed out of the closest door on the left holding Sybok up by his vulcan robes. His face was even more red. Veins in his head bulged as he heaved.

“She doesn’t want your help, if she did she would’ve told you about her pain,” he said. “I can understand that you’re all feeling countless emotions at the knowledge that you’re losing your friend but take peace in the knowledge that this is what she needs, she knows there’s nothing but pain in this life left for her, so why should she stay in this life and be punished just to keep her friends company?”

That was apparently the wrong answer as Scotty threw him against the wall.

“Don’t tell me your lies, just tell me where she is, or I swear to god I’ll show ye what I can do with a wrench that’ll mess ye up for life, sonny,”

Sybok let out a nervous laugh and looked at Spock. He shook his head but didn’t move. None of them really could. Jim was feeling sick to the stomach with all of this, this entire mission really, but the fact that Jaylah was going to have her memories erased terrified him. 

The amount of torment one had to be in to think that that was the only answer was something he thought he understood. Apparently not.

~~~~

The female staff members came in and told her to back against the white tiled wall. Two came up beside her and undid the braids. Her hair had grown a considerable amount since she left Altamid. It ticked her shoulder blades as she moved her arms away from her sides.

A squeak and then something cold. They told her this was so the charge could connect to her mind, her soul and begin the resetting process. It could kill her otherwise. It no longer scared her that she wasn’t fazed by that outcome.

The two staff members came back and began to rub the lotion into her skin until she was slippery. They didn’t bat an eyelid as they manipulated her skin in an intimate way. Their eyes weren’t even really focused on her, like they were miles away, like she was just another figure. Their smiles from the reception were gone.

~~~~

The changing room was empty after Bones clocked Sybok and Spock explained in the most logical manner, how finding her was for the best, that this was a rash decision that she should talk through. Maybe they’d be more settled about this if they knew she wholeheartedly wanted it, not that this felt like her only option.

Her clothes, that band t-shirt from the Slayers of Pangone concert, were folded neatly on the bench. The door at the far end of the room was open. Shutters were open. She wasn't here. 

Or the next room either. But the suds on the floor, tracing into plugholes lazily like a river on a summer’s day, told them that she wasn’t long gone. Spock walked over and ran his finger through the suds.

"This isn't soap," he said. "It's far too slippery."

Jim nodded and looked beyond, they went from what looked like the locker rooms of a public swimming pool, to the sleek facade the lobby had been. Two elevators filled the space and only had one button. Up.

~~~~

The staff members didn’t join her into the room. She’d been briefed on what would happen and been told good luck with those fake smiles. They didn’t go, though, they stood in perfect stillness beyond the markless glass.

She turned around and made her way to the edge of the pool. That ride in the elevator had felt like forever. Forever paid for forever, getting to the top of this building. Looking down, no light came out of this pool, it must go right to the bottom of the building. They’d said something about charge but she didn’t see any electricity flashing. 

Away from the abyss, she took a long look at the city. More purple, pink, flecks of orange, filled up the blue and sleek grey of the buildings. Glinting squares of life far away. Happy people. She’d be one of them soon, although that idea didn’t make her happy, it didn’t make her sad either. 

She raked a hand through her sticky hair. They’d put her in some white robes for modesty. It made sense, every wall of this room was glass. Although they were high up enough that no one would see. But she supposed on a busy day, there may be a queue of people that didn’t want to see her naked form. So she accepted the basic robes.

Turning around, she saw the stillness beyond the glass change. Maybe the staff didn’t stay for this bit, she thought. Or perhaps they had to race to the bottom to catch her new blank self. It was a long trip in the elevator. 

She closed her eyes.

~~~~

Scotty pounded on the glass. She was right there, just beyond reach. She didn’t even see them, he didn’t think so by the look on her face. This was her without the mask, blank and sorrowful. He’d never seen her so defeated. Exhausted and desperate.

“There’s gotta be a way in, there has to be, why won’t the door open?”

“There’s a code-” Spock started.

Scotty turned to him, rage still hot on his face, “I know that, but there’s gotta be another way, we cannae let her make this mistake.”

He scanned the room. Not even a fire extinguisher. Not even a hope. He looked at his hand and knew it was the only way.

~~~~

Jim could’ve told Scotty to stop but despite knowing that that wouldn’t work, he didn’t want to. Little by little, punch by punch, the glass door began to crack. He licked his lips and nodded to the rest of the crew. They’d never relied on his command so much in all of their time together, he had to be Captain.

They rolled up their sleeves and began to punch until their knuckles were split and blood marked the glass shards as they shattered on the floor around them.

Jaylah didn’t even open her eyes. He guessed it didn’t matter, she wouldn’t remember soon anyway. Or she was so dark and deep that she didn’t care if they came to save her. Maybe she didn’t think she was worth it. He knew she was.

~~~~

She knew they came for her. That was what families did for each other. She didn’t open her eyes as she took a deep breath and fell backwards into the pool. 

The only thing she remarked as she hit the pool was that it didn’t feel like it was filled with water. Instead, something more viscous. Like custard.

~~~~

“No!” Scotty yelled.

Jim wished he didn’t have to hear it, hear such pain in one word. Scotty had just lost a daughter. No matter what he said, Jaylah was his daughter in one way or another.

He lay on his knees and held his head in one hand. With the other, he reached out to the pool to grace the ripples of where she’d just fell. He shook as he got to his feet and turned to them.

“We’ve got to go after her,” he said.

Tears filled his eyes but still didn’t fall. There was a noticeable tension in his shoulders that told Jim that the rage that was there just a few moments earlier hadn’t dissipated. 

“And lose our memories too?” Bones argued. 

Scotty took off his red engineering shirt, he held the material of his black undershirt and didn’t take that off too. He started on his boots next as Spock added. 

“The doctor is right, perhaps there is another way, a manual override or a way to turn off the charges-”

“Charges?” Scotty exclaimed, undressing quicker. “They’re gonna fucking electrocute her!”

“No, although I cannot be entirely sure, I can hazard a guess that the charges are to connect to what the Vulcans would call her katra, or her soul, so make her forget everything. If we can bypass that then there would be no connection and she would stay intact, relatively.”

A quick scan of the room showed no such thing. All there was was a crescent shape, the circular pool was slightly smaller than the entire circular column, but there was no decoration apart from the breathtaking views beyond the walls of glass.

“Perhaps the controls are on another floor, we could search to find-”

“There isn’t enough time for that, we barely had time to get up here before she jumped,” Scotty looked back to the black water, absorbing all the light. “The only way to get to her is in there.”

He went to jump but Jim caught his shirt just in time. He pulled him back on his feet.

“What if you forget too?”

Scotty looked him dead in the eyes, “That’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

“The charges may hurt us, though,” Spock said.

“But you said-”

“They won’t hurt her, I suspect that whatever liquid was in that hose wasn’t just soap, to withstand the amount of charge to not only connect to another mind like this and to change it irreparably would require protection, protection we don’t have.” He said. “If you make the jump, you might die.”

Scotty stepped closer to the pool again. Not looking down, he turned his back to it as he reiterated, “That’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

And without even a running start, he jumped into the pool following Jaylah.

Jim sighed and contemplated going back down the elevator. He rubbed his forehead again while, unbeknownst to him, Bones had stripped down to his black undershirt and underwear, and made his way to the edge.

“Dr McCoy, you could put yourself in serious danger-” Spock warned.

Jim opened his eyes as Bones replied.

“I choose the danger.”

He was gone with barely a splash. Soon followed by Uhura, Sulu and Chekov. They didn’t need his guidance as much as he thought.

Turning to Spock, Jim tugged at his shirt collar. This wasn’t just a reckless decision, but a fatal one if Spock was right. But it wasn’t the worst one he’d made to save a life, he thought back to Khan and the burning radiation as he’d died saving the ship.

“I suppose that because the charges are calibrated for one mind, as I hypothesise they may work that way, we may survive if there are seven of us instead.”

Jim smiled as he began to get undressed while Spock toed off his boots, “We’ve had worse odds, haven’t we Spock?”

He didn’t reply until they were both staring down at the pool. He couldn’t see any of his friends in there. It was like a black hole, as if they’d be swallowed up and erased. 

“I believe we have, Captain.”

They both jumped. Spock didn’t even make a sound whereas Jim heard a decent splash as they entered the thick liquid. He was surprised he could breathe, was all he thought before things began to go fuzzy.

I had an idea for a fic where the Enterprise crew are called on a mission after news of people getting their memories erased. Maybe they're chosen because one of their crew, I'm thinking Chekov, has had this done and they need to save him and put a stop to it.

But, Jaylah's been struggling, I mean watching your entire family die in a death camp and surviving on your own for years would definitely fuck you up, and eventually wants to go through with this procedure to get rid of her pain, the Final Frontier style.

I haven't written anything for Star Trek in ages but I've been developing Jaylah's character for a while. This was originally going to be a 6 + 1 fic of people not realising she's hurting and bonding with her then the one time they did notice but it ended up being this idea.

Thanks for reading!

[it-happened-one-fic]

The Pleasure - Rollo (Glorious Masquerade)

Author Notes: So, I've been having a lot of fun reading Glorious Masquerade and I saw an opening and received encouragement from friends to just go ahead and write some fics for this event. So here's Rollo's and this will possibly be the only Rollo fic I ever write. The dance in this fic was inspired by the Ländler Allemande which can be seen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iuWq7S6pFvQ. The fic was written to “Tu Vas me Détruire” from Notre Dame de Paris by Daniel Lavoie. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ Glorious Masquerade/ pining/ fluff/ dancing

Word Count: 1854

It was almost strange to be at a masquerade ball after everything that had just happened the night before. And everyone was just dancing away without care, as if nothing had occurred.

I glanced around at the smiling faces that made it seem like this social had gone out without a hitch when I knew all too well that it had almost ended in tragedy.

A crimson red had washed across Fleur City yet again, and yet here we were. Seemingly celebrating our survival despite the cause of it all stood right across the room from me. His arms crossed as he eyed the merry-making.

And yet, despite the fact that Rollo had put us in very real danger and was beyond hypocritical, I found that I wasn’t actually that upset with him. In fact, I almost pitied him.

He’d been so misled and driven to such mad acts, and it reminded me painfully of all the overblots I’d already experienced.

It was true. He’d been beyond wrong in what he’d done. But so had they, and I was friends with them now. 

Perhaps that was why I found myself making my way across the room until I was standing quietly next to him. He glanced my way, his grey-green eyes sliding towards where I stood until his gaze at last rested on mine.

His poker face was present as always, but I had no doubt that his careful mask hid the disdain he currently felt at the merriment spread out before him.

“Looks like the social was a success…. Congratulations,” I was almost surprised that he allowed me to see the rueful smile that slipped across his face at my words. But then, I suppose he had little to hide at this point. I already knew everything.

“Yes, you and your friends must be pleased,” His typically soft voice held a distinct tinge of malice, and I frowned slightly. But I knew how he’d interpreted my words, even if that wasn’t how I meant them.

He thought I was mocking him for his failed plan. But, in actuality, my congratulations were genuine.

“I’m not mocking you. Even if your plan failed, you still managed to gather all of these students and hold a successful social.” I glanced his way, noting the bitter frown on his face even as I continued, “Your classmates said you worked really hard on all of this. I realize it was just a ruse, but it’s still impressive.”

He was silent as I finished, eyeing me closely before he let out a soft sigh, “Then you should join them. You’re friends.” 

As he spoke, he gestured to the crowd of people who danced with one another. Their motions were unfamiliar and not among the courtly dances that Trein had taken the time to teach me before we came here.

I smiled slightly before shaking my head, “No… I don’t actually think I could keep up with any of them.” I laughed slightly to myself before looking back his way, fully expecting to see a mocking expression on his face but instead being met with one of quiet thoughtfulness.

“You do not know the same raucous dances?” I snorted at his words before shaking my head.

“No, I can get by fairly well, and Trein taught me some more classic, courtly styles of dancing, but nothing like what they’re doing.” I smiled fondly out at the crowd of young men, dancing intricate but fast-paced dances that I knew I could never keep up with.

“Come then,” My eyes widened at his soft voice before I looked his way, only to find him holding out his hand.

I stared at him for a brief moment in silent surprise before I felt a smile slip onto my face, “I didn’t think you would like dancing. You talked about what ‘nonsense’ it was during the Topsy-turvy festival.”

His lips twitched slightly at my words, but he tilted his head slightly, “Yes, but you are a guest here at the social I put together. It would be poor form for me to let you be left out of the celebrations for the guests.”

I glance at his outstretched hand, murmuring a quiet, “I suppose so,” before meeting his gaze once more.

“Still, I’m not the best at dancing,” I offered as a way of explanation, and his eyebrows rose. His face full of disbelief, that showed exactly how unimpressed he was with my excuse.

“You said your professor taught you some dances. Was the Ländler Allemande among them?” I nodded slowly at his question, already realizing that I was going to be dancing with him for better or worse. 

Perhaps it was his petty means of revenge for me coming over here, but I slowly rested my fingers in his outstretched hand, accepting his invitation since I knew when to give up, “Yes, he did.”

He nodded, leading me out onto the floor that had, not all that long ago, been covered with firelotuses that he’d left as a trap for my friends. 

I saw some of my classmates looking over curiously and almost warily to where I walked with him, hand in hand, until he raised his arm and I obediently twirled under it until we were facing each other once more.

His gaze held mine as he bowed slightly, and I bobbed in a sort of curtsey. And then we began to dance.

We walked forward with a slight swinging motion to our arms, that remained the only thing holding us together. He lifted his arm for me to twirl under once before he reached out with his other hand.  And I accepted, letting him spin me so that my back was to him. 

One of my arms crossed over my waist to continue holding his hand, while the other arched over my head to meet his in a sort of frame around us. 

I briefly met Trein’s gaze from where our teacher sat. A slight smile on his face as I made use of his lessons and danced, not with one of the young men from NRC, but with Rollo. But I supposed this was what the social was, in form, for. 

For the students of one school to get to know those of another.

And despite his entire plot that had put me in danger at the time, I truly did not feel uncomfortable at the moment, save for the stares our motions earned us.

But then, everyone else was doing far more modern dances, and here me and Rollo were, doing a courtly dance.

We circuited back around to the middle of the room and separated before reaching towards one another again, this time with our wrists crossed. Our hands found one another yet again, and our arms raised. With me spinning under the arch our arms provided first, and then him next. 

His gaze held mine with an unreadable stare as we each took a step back and swung our arms apart in a graceful arc while our others, still tied together by our linked hands, lowered to keep us attached by a single hand hold.

And then we repeated the motion again. Our arms crossing elegantly over and under one another as we shifted backwards and forwards across the floor. 

The dance steadily began repeating its motions until he took my hands in his and held them over my head so that I could twirl before stopping.

 We stood parallel to one another, but side by side. Looking at each other as two of our interlocked hands arched in between us. Forming a sort of window that our free hands slid through to find one another again.

Almost like we were keeping a distance between us by forming a sort of wall that could still be passed through just so our hands could remain linked.

It was the part of the dance that had troubled me the most when Trein had been teaching me. I’d gotten tangled up countless times, but this time it was only easy motions.

I swallowed slightly as we spun together, his eyes remaining presently locked with mine as we slowly spiraled. Somehow, having made our way to the center of the ballroom’s floor. 

And then, as easy as breathing, he spun me out, and our eye contact was broken as we made another circuit around the floor with my back to him as we promenaded our way around.

This time I saw that Grim was staring at me wide-eyed from where he’d joined Professor Trein. Like he couldn’t believe that I was dancing with Rollo, of all people.

But, to be fair, I could hardly believe it myself. I hadn’t been joking when I’d said I didn’t think Rollo liked dancing, and I certainly hadn’t expected to find myself dancing with him.

But there was no hesitation in his motions as we made our way back around with him guiding me to spin across the floor in front of him until I was the one behind him. Our hands were still gripping one another as he shifted me from one side to another in the midst of another, smaller circuit.

“For someone who doesn’t enjoy dancing, you seem to know the steps to this dance rather well,” I found my voice when my eyes briefly caught his once again as we shifted positions once more. My back once again to his chest.

He leaned around me, looking at me through our arched arms that framed us once more, “It was once an important part of one’s education to learn such dances.”

His voice matched mine in softness as we each inclined our heads towards each other before he shifted back to my other side.

“So I’m told. But you seem to have taken that quite seriously,” We each inclined our heads once more as I spoke.

We slid apart, but he kept one of my hands in his so that we were in the exact same pose we started in. Side by side, looking towards one another.

“Indeed, despite my distaste for such things, that does not lessen their importance in history,” So saying, he quietly began to walk with me back across the floor. And this time, people parted, making a path for us back to the wall we’d just been standing at earlier.

I nodded slightly as we emerged from the crowd, which continued to stare at us. No doubt a myriad of thoughts circulating through their minds.

“I see. Well, thank you for putting yourself through something you so dislike for me,” I smiled at him slightly as we both turned to look back out at the dancers, who slowly began to spiral across the floor again. 

Why so many had stopped to watch us, I did not know. But I would ask Deuce about it later. Perhaps he would know.

Rollo’s voice was soft as he answered, but I caught his words nonetheless, and they caused me to look towards him in quiet surprise, even though he kept gazing out at the crowd, “The pleasure was all mine.”

[buckyseddie]

unexpected feelings

pairings — jj maybank x fem!reader, featuring bff!john b routledge x bff!fem!reader

summary — in which, after getting her heart broken by her best friend, she falls for his best friend instead.

word count — 2.3k.

warnings — angst, heartbreak, fluff, there’s a flashback to when jj and reader were kids, use of pet-names [princess, sweetheart], the girls plan a trap to make jj and the reader confess their feelings (much like what the boys did with sarah and kiara in season one), blurted confessions, surprise kisses.

notes — this imagine is inspired by the fic called before i go by @drewscrackpipe ; y’all really gotta read it, ohmygod!! that fic is so good, i literally found myself in my feels, relating to it so much that i literally cried so hard. gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.

main masterlist

IMAGINE BEING BEST FRIEND WITH someone since you were kids.

but, also being in love with them since you could even understand the word love and what it means.

that seems like it’s not so bad when it’s a secret.

but, imagine how bad it is to be cornered by that said person about the truth. especially, when the rejection is clear before the conversation even begins.

it happened on a night like any other. john b was throwing one of his famous parties and he ended up dancing with his incredibly beautiful girlfriend — and [y/n]’s best friend — sarah cameron.

as i can imagine, this didn’t sit well with her.

it’s not that she was a homewrecker and that she was going to do something incredibly impulsive and terrible.

no, it wasn’t like that at all.

she loves both sarah and john b with every bit of her heart. their happiness has always been the most important thing to her in the world.

and that’s exactly why she never told either of them the truth — in her mind, it was incredibly selfish if she went and admitted her true feelings when her best friends were so happily in love.

and she was planning on keeping it quiet. or at least, that’s what she was hoping on doing.

but then, after not being able to continue watching the couple together, she’d decided on going to find the one person she could always count on.

jj maybank is the only one who knows about her feelings for john b.

although, you’d think since john b is jj’s best friend, he would’ve told him about all of it.

but, shockingly, he didn’t say one word to him.

he’s kept the secret since the sixth grade — he claims that he knew the second he met her and john b, by the way she’d apparently always look at him.

although, she never admitted it until the sixth grade when jj came across her all-too-secret and precious diary.

she remembers the day like the back of her hand.

“oh, look what we have here!” jj exclaims with an extremely amused expression.

“jj… please don’t!” [y/n] begs, her face becoming quickly red in embarrassment at the fact that the reckless dork found her most prized possession.

she could already sense the childish smirk that was yet to make its way to the boy’s lips.

and then, jj runs away with her hidden secrets with him.

this causes her to quickly run after him, trying to keep up with him as he opens the book bound in leather and starts reading silently, while running.

“jj! this is not funny! please, just give it back!” she yells to him but he simply giggles and runs around the corner.

by the time, she makes it around the corner, he’s nowhere to be seen.

heaving some extra breaths into her lungs, [y/n] sighs, the thought of the best friend of her crush finding out the truth — and telling him everything he’s learned — overwhelming her entire body.

“i told you that you had a crush on him. i knew it!” jj’s voice comes from behind her.

she turns around to see jj leaning against the wall and holding her diary in his hands.

“look, jj, i get that he’s your best friend and all, but his friendship means the world to me. and i can’t lose that. ever. and if you tell him about this, he’ll never forgive me. and i get that you don’t like me and would love to see me hurt, but please don’t tell him.” she pleadingly explains, tears forming in her eyes.

a shocked look crosses onto jj’s face before he steps towards her.

he pushes the diary into her hands, standing only centimeters away from her.

an almost pained expression becomes known to her from him as he sighs.

“i wouldn’t ever hurt you like that. i understand why you want to keep it from him and i promise, i’ll never tell him about this.” he admits, clenching his fists together.

even as kid, this boy was still as loyal as he is to this day.

and ever since that day, he’s kept that promise.

he stayed quiet and every time things got too hard with her feelings towards her best friend, she could always count on jj to be there for her.

although, she’s learnt throughout the years that jj developed a small crush on her — it wasn’t something that she was blind or oblivious to.

and she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t have the tiniest bit of a crush on him too.

but, her small crush has never compared to her feelings for john b. at least, not right away.

and then, suddenly, she finds herself running into and standing before john b, admitting her feelings for him, years much too late.

“w—what?” he sputters out, clearly speechless.

she stays silent, too afraid to make things worse.

“please tell me you’re kidding, [y/n]…” he trails off, running his fingers through his beautiful locks in stress.

“i’m sorry, i c—can’t tell you that — i’d be lying,” she states as she takes in a deep breath, looking up at the shocked boy stood in front of her.

“look — before you say anything — i just need you to know that i never said anything because i knew it would ruin our friendship. i also never said anything because you and sarah are both my best friends and there’s nothing i would ever do to hurt the two of you.” she truthfully admits, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth anxiously, awaiting his response to all of this.

“wow, that means a lot, [y/n/n]. you know i’ll always love you. but, only as a sister. i wish there was an easier way to let you down gently, but i don’t think there is.” he says, sighing as he crosses his arms across his chest.

tears threaten to spill, but she blinks them away so fast it would be impossible to even notice them.

“i know.” she says, trying her best not to breakdown right then and there in front of her best friend.

“hey, what’s going on in here, guys?” sarah says from behind [y/n] at the doorway, jj standing right behind her.

panic starts to sink into her body.

[y/n] opens her mouth to somehow tell her the truth, but john b beats her to it, “we were just discussing summer plans. that’s all.”

she turns back to him, giving him an appreciative smile.

he nods and walks over to his girlfriend, who also nods, and pulls him out of the room.

once the couple leaves the room, [y/n] collapses to the floor, the tears finally leaving her very tired and exhausted eyes.

jj is there in only a second, pulling her into his chest as she finally lets out the pent up sobs and tears into his chest.

“why did i allow myself to fall for him when i knew about the heartbreak i was setting myself up for?” she cries out, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

“he doesn’t deserve you, princess.” he murmurs, rubbing her back comfortingly, before swiftly carrying her to the guest room.

he softly sets her down on the bed, after shutting the door. he makes his way to his side of the bed and lies down, pulling her to him as she continues to cry, while he whispers sweet nothings into her ear.

—————

IT’S BEEN MONTHS SINCE THAT night.

john b eventually told sarah what him and [y/n] were actually discussing that night and — instead of being like most jealous girlfriends and making her life a living hell — she came to [y/n] and comforted her, knowing how painful it was for her.

the rest of the crew eventually found out about [y/n]’s feelings towards john b and supported her when she told them she needed time alone.

[y/n] no longer has any romantic feelings for john b and has moved on.

and although she eventually came back to the group, she ended up avoiding them all over again when she realized her small crush on jj had turned into something more — it scared the living shit out of her.

and of course, all the pogues knew she was back to square one of avoiding them.

the boys, being more understanding and less dramatic, shrugged it off, all but kiara, sarah, and jj.

kiara and sarah knew exactly why — it was about jj.

it was obvious to them, since the only other guy in the group [y/n]’s super close with other than john b, is jj.

although, this all sucked terribly for jj, since he could be so dense and oblivious sometimes.

jj was obviously hurt that she started to completely ignore not only the entire group — which includes him — but also ignoring all contact with him.

even if jj didn’t have the guts to talk to [y/n], kiara and sarah sure did.

that’s why, after weeks of jj finally giving up on talking to her, kiara and sarah drag [y/n] down to the cut and forced her onto the hms pogue boat that belongs to none other than john b.

it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

when she finally opened the door to the countless pounding knocks from the two girls and letting them inside her house, they forced her to take a long time overdue shower and put on a bathing suit.

then, they had to convince her to go on a boat ride with them, which she didn’t believe right away.

but, the easy part was her not spotting the one boy she wanted to avoid forever on the same boat as her.

luckily, by the time they noticed each other, kiara and sarah had already left the dock.

“they do realize that we can leave at any moment, right?” she asks, eyebrow raised, trying to avoid what she already knows the boy wants to ask.

“cut the bullshit, [y/n]!” he exclaims, glaring deeply at her, before his eyes soften at the dark bags under her red eyes.

“i—what?” she stutters out, feeling small as fear takes over her body.

“why are you avoiding the guys and more importantly, why are you ignoring me?” he asks gently this time, his voice cracking with a sense of vulnerability she’d never heard from him.

after seeing and hearing the pain of her friend, the tears build up, “i—i do—don’t know… i guess… i was scared to face you all.” she admits, the tears finally falling down to her cheeks.

“why were you scared, [y/n]?” he asks carefully, stepping closer to her now.

“because the last time i saw everyone was when they found out i was in love with john b, and then, i had to avoid you guys again because i started to feel the same way about you that i did about him… and it scares me shitless!” she blurts out, body shaking in fear of losing someone else.

jj’s eyes widen in shock and she clenches her fists, trying not to blurt anything else out.

“w—what?” he asks, barely a whisper.

“i—i love you, jj — more as a friend. but, i guess i couldn’t admit that when i realized how i felt before because every time i like someone, they never feel the same. and especially with what happened with john b, i was scared that it was too late to tell you how i felt because i’d get hurt again when you’d eventually break my heart, like he did.” she admits, being loud and clear this time.

jj stays silent, which gives her the answer she so-clearly doesn’t want.

just as she starts to turn around, he grabs her gently and pulls her to him, crashing his lips onto hers.

“i would never break your heart, sweetheart. and my feelings for you will never change. no matter what happens.” he states as he pulls away from her parted lips.

giggling, [y/n] pulls him back towards her, kissing him with a smile on her lips.

she finally got the happy ending she needed — she got the boy.

whether, it was the one she originally wanted or not, she still got the boy that is meant to make her happy for the rest of her life.

[ellitx]

Love Game | Aether x Reader x Kazuha

An unexpected letter from the head of the Kamisato Clan has been sent to the traveler. Surely this must be an important mission, right?

crack fic

next

fem! reader

word count: 1.9k

artist: Amedan1126

this was fun to write lmaoo thanks r/genshin_memepact for the inspiration

“I want you to marry one of my sisters, Traveler.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, was that too vague?” The head of the Kamisato clan raised his brow at Aether, seeing how perplexed his reactions were at his question.

“I meant that I want you to fuck one of my sisters.”

Aether’s face burned hot and slammed his hand against the table with a loud noise causing the Yashiro doushins to raise their spears. However, Ayato was quick to cease their charge by raising his hand as an order to lower their weapons. 

“I— what— wh-what in the world are you talking about!? I mean I get what you’re trying to say but why?!” 

Ayato smiled and opened his fan with one swift motion of his wrist to cover the cheeky grin that began to etch on his handsome face. 

“I thought everything was already mentioned from the letter I gave to you, Traveler. Though just from your reaction, you have lots of queries regarding this matter.” 

Thank the Seven Paimon wasn’t here to listen to them discuss this… “mission”. Who knows what nonsense she’ll spout out to the Commissions, or even worse to the civilians who may spread rumors that will surely ruin the reputation of not just the Yashiro Commission but the Kamisato clan as well.

When Sayu came running to the traveler, he was surprised to see her looking for him. Does she need his assistance in her ninjutsu training? Or is she out here to come to assassinate him?! 

Surely not, Sayu isn’t the kind of person who’ll agree to that kind of mission, right…? What in the world is he thinking?! Of course there’s a possibility she might ambush him. She’s a Shuumatsuban!

“Oh, Sayu, hello there. D-do you need something?”

He coughed to obscure the little stammer he slipped, then in a flash, put on a smile. Aether was probably fretting over nothing and thinking too much into details about her. They are good friends so the ambush mission was out of the list of his concerns.

“Well, Ayato had told me to deliver this letter to you.” The young ninja rifled through her pockets until she felt the high-quality paper against her palm then gave the item to Aether.

A letter?”

It’s quite odd for the Yashiro Head to send a message to him but it might be urgent that he even sent out Sayu, a sleepy ninja who often skips training, to come send this to him.

“Ooh! Open it now, Aether! Ayaka might have invited us to come over to their house to have fancy dining with them!” Paimon squealed in excitement as she hovered above his head to take a peek at the address.

“That might not be the case, Paimon.”

Sayu let out a yawn as small tears of drowsiness tottered out from the brim of her lower eyelids. “My mission is complete. I’ll go off now and go back to sleep.”

With that, she left off, almost like an attempt to escape from another duty that will come to her. Aether looked down at the letter he was holding and flipped it to the other side to see the Kamisato Clan’s insignia stamped on the corner and his name neatly written below it.

Taking out the piece of paper, his eyes scanned on the elegant handwriting penned on the thin sheet.

“Greetings, Traveler. This is Kamisato Ayato. 

I understand you might be wondering why I have sent one of the Shuumatsubans to deliver this letter to you but I am currently unavailable to personally discuss this certain matter with you. 

I have an urgent mission for you.

Do not contact any other woman you have crossed paths with but with the exception of my sisters, Ayaka and [Name]. 

I will need you to head to the Eipekkusu across from the Bakshesh Shoppe past the International Trade Association in Ritou. The door may be barricaded, so use the side door panel for access. You will be required in performing a knock sequence on that door so follow this pattern.”

Aether mumbled the knock patterns under his breath and tapped his finger on his leg to memorize the sequence. Paimon on the other hand continued to read the rest of the contexts for him out loud.

“Search behind the back counter until you see a ring box. Inside there is a large diamond ring.”

The fairy released a loud gasp and looked at her companion with sparkling eyes. “Is this another mission where we have to retrieve an important item without getting caught?!”

That’s not good… Another stealth mission for him? This is his fifth time doing a stealth mission and this work of field is not his expertise per se. 

But a mission is a mission and this might be really important so he shouldn’t be asking personal matters that may have a relation to one of the most prestigious clans in Inazuma. 

“Think of the rewards we’ll get! Ohh Paimon bets we’ll receive hundreds of thousands of Mora if we succeed in this. Maybe we can spend a night in Aisa Bathhouse! Or eat at Uyuu Restaurant and slurp tons and tons and TONS of Tonkotsu Ramen and More-and-More!”

Paimon groaned and clutched her stomach as she whined out more of her wishes beyond the skies.

“Just thinking about it is enough for Paimon to drool already!” She grabbed on Aether’s scarf and dragged him like a doll to commence their mission. 

“Let’s go to Ritou, Traveler!”

Despite Paimon taking the lead and blathering whatever comes to her mind, it merely passed through Aether’s ears without processing what she has said due to him being much more concentrated on the letter they have read.

Sure, a diamond will come with a great reward after this but something was off about this task he’s been assigned with. With these doubts distracting him and continuously strewing in his head, he continued reading the letter— and oh stars and moons he was not expecting those last details Kamisato Ayato had written.

“The ring will allow you to propose to one of my sisters and you have the freedom to choose who you wish to wed you.”

Thus, this is how the hero of Inazuma arrived at this peculiar affair.

“Is it not good enough, Traveler? Do you wish to make the wedding extravagant and special? Or do you need some time in choosing between [Name] and Ayaka?”

“Yes! I mean no—! Wait— let me just make myself clear…”

The blonde sighed, frustrated and confused by Ayato’s proposition. He sat down on the soft cushions and rubbed his temple to alleviate the pulsing sensation that had worsened his condition.

“So you want me to marry one of your sisters because…?”

“Because we need the Kamisato bloodline to continue.” Ayato completed with a smile. “Once you have made your decisions, a candle-lit dinner will be prepared for you and your fiancé at the Komore Teahouse. It is crucial to know each other and deepen the relationship.”

This must be some sort of joke, right? Ayato is probably pulling a prank on him. He remembered you mentioning your brother is a bit of a prankster and mischievous…

“You must be kidding, right?”

An awful silence lingered between them and each second made Aether shrink in his seat when Ayato simply gave him that unchanging, faint, and humorless smile.

“Right…?”

“I’m quite hurt you think of this as a farce but worry not. I don't harbor any ill will from your words. [Name] perhaps spoke too much about me.” The eldest of the Kamisato siblings sighed and laced his fingers together to rest his chin atop of it.

Aether felt chills run to his bones by his eerie gaze that’s almost like him staring right to his soul, searching and discovering all of his deepest darkest secrets through a mere peer.

It felt like he was cornered— an eagle that has finally gotten his prey right to his trap. 

“Traveler, the Kamisato bloodline must survive.”

Aether has never wanted to have Paimon with him so badly.

“If you come back empty handed,”

He wants to get out of this suffocating household. Anything that will put a distance between him and this someone!

Someone! Anyone!

He cried inside his head and he knows searching for help is futile with all these doushins blocking any possible escape routes.

“I will build a mountain on top of your corpse—“

Paimon, please come help me!!

“Aniki!”

The familiar voice of Ayato’s beloved little sister snapped him out from his conversation with Aether and curved his body to face you.

“[Name]! You’re finally back with—“

His words fell off once his eyes were settled on the ronin who was standing beside you.

“Oh?” 

Ayato blinked and tipped his head slightly to observe how your arms were clung onto Kazuha’s left arm with a big smile on your face.

“Aniki, Kazuha has taught me so many things in handling swords! I knew he’s a better teacher than the one you picked!” You proclaimed with a giggle and lugged the ronin inside your household right after taking your getas off.

Kazuha turned away and avoided making eye contact with your brother. Oh he knows very well Ayato doesn’t like seeing him so intimately close with you. And he knows as well that the resistance and the Yashiro Commission don’t get along that well.

His ruby eyes caught on the familiar blonde hair who was sitting across Ayato, shaking and trembling as if he had seen his worst nightmare.

Thank you, Rex Lapis! Thank you Barbatos for saving me! Thank you Kazuha and [Name] for coming on time!

Aether will remember this as he silently thanked the Seven and his friends.

Kazuha doesn’t know what was going on but he can sense that it was another one of your brother’s propositions.

“Ah, Aether! What a surprise. I didn’t know you were coming to visit us.”

You motioned to the young samurai to come sit next to you by patting the spare cushion and looking back and forth between your brother and the traveler.

Then it hit you that you might be interrupting an important discussion. 

“A-ah… I didn’t mean to intrude, aniki.” 

Ayato softly chuckled and waved his hands in dismissal. “No need to apologize. I was just having a fun chat with Aether,” He then opened his eyes to reveal the cold gray optics that resembled yours but much sharper with a hint of gentleness in it.

“Isn’t that right?” 

Aether nodded avidly. He knows for sure he needs to agree with whatever Ayato says and if things become more complicated, he may have to hide these matters from you and Kazuha. 

“I see that you are with your friend…” The Yashiro head pointed out, striking a disinterested inspection of the man sitting next to you. 

“Where’s Ayaka?” He questioned.

“She’s with Thoma and Paimon at Komore Teahouse. Probably playing that hot pot game.”

Your brother hummed when you answered but it didn’t make things better, not when you’re so close with that wandering samurai. If only you don’t personally know each other, he would’ve commanded the guards to kick him out of the residence this instant. 

But he held himself back from doing so. You value your friendship with Kazuha and the last thing he wanted was to make you cry and ignore him.

If Aether were to choose you as his bride, then this wandering samurai would stop making contact with you and the Yashiro Commission. 

Maybe he should play this game of cupid a little longer until he wins.

[faulty-writes]

[ This is my first Tsunagu/Best Jeanist fic. But if you're a secret Best Jeanist lover like me, I hope you enjoy! This was partly inspired by the song Give A Damn by A Rocket To The Moon ]

[ Let's face it, you weren't the best hero out there. In fact, much like most already know, your pro hero status was the result of your family who just so happens to let their money do most of the talking. But no amount of money could get you to sell your soul, you're still the same alcohol-loving party animal you always were. Unfortunately, this had led you to do a few less than intelligent things while under the influence and it just so happens that you met Tsunagu Hakamada otherwise known as Best Jeanist this way. Despite your less than friendly relationship, neither of you is willing to admit just how much you feel for the other. ]

“I see you’re still up to your usual antics, that’s quite disappointing for someone who presents themselves as a hero,” came Tsunagu’s voice as you felt the strain of the threads around your chest tighten, somewhat constricting your breathing.

Despite this, your lips pulled back in a snarl. Your pearly whites were bared and your eyes were slanted in a hateful glance at the man in front of you, the very same man who was using his quirk to keep you in place. No surprise, he remained unintimidated by you.

His arms were crossed over one another and the sleeves of his denim jacket were unraveled which was to be expected considering he was currently using them to keep you in place. However, this was a common practice for him given his history of dealing with unruly youth.

But you were by far the most disturbing case he had come across. He knew of your background, the fact that you came from a rather wealthy family who paid their way into Yuuei in order to get you an education in the hero course.

However, assumed by many, you never had the intention of becoming a hero. In fact, you preferred to remain the same wild spirit you always thought yourself to be. Yet, a small plastic card with your name on it said differently.

But frankly, it was a surprise you had even managed to obtain it, much less graduate. Yet even after you received your official status as a pro hero your troublesome, partying, and alcohol-loving personality remained. No surprise, these elements are what aided you in becoming ‘famous’ for all the wrong reasons.

Other pro heroes tended to avoid you, though you had met plenty of them from the days you drunkenly crashed hero meetings or somehow found yourself tangled in missions you never asked for. Of course, you were the sole reason why said missions failed which caused some understandable hatred from others.

Villains, on the other hand, tended to appreciate you. But this was only due to the fact that you gave heroes a bad name. Yet, there were a few individuals who tried to tame you, thankfully you were quite stubborn and their efforts were met with nothing short of failure.

But none tried as hard as Tsunagu Hakamada or, as he was more professionally known as Best Jeanist, who ironically enough was the very same man that was currently holding you against your will for what felt like the hundredth time.

Of course, like many others, he knew your backstory rather well. But even so, he was insistent on continuing to try and reform you despite the many times he too, failed at the task. Yet it was during these moments that he learned more about you.

This included the fact that you tended to chase individuals who would only encourage your rather unbefitting behavior. He somewhat found himself wishing that you would follow him in such a manner, yet this was a secret that dared not pass his lips.

But you had your own secrets as well, some of which included the fact that despite you repeatedly telling Tsunagu that you “didn’t give a damn” about him, you actually indeed liked him very much. But keeping his preferences and reputation in mind, you’d rather remain ignorant.

Much like a child, you preferred to make fun of him in an effort to avoid him finding out about your feelings which to your surprise, had worked out so far. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel paranoid as you believed there was a small chance that Tsunagu knew exactly what game you were playing.

This is why you had come up with a rather desperate and not so well thought out plan. After all, not many would pretend to be drunk much less while crashing yet another hero meeting because you heard Best Jeanist would be there.

Of course, there was another reason you were doing this and that was to finally confirm if he actually knew of your feelings towards him or not. However, this was the current result of your so-called plan and honestly, you should have seen it coming.

“Perhaps if you were in a more stable state, I would release you. But unfortunately, you seem to enjoy the taste of alcohol as much as one enjoys the feeling of a tight pair of denim jeans,” you furrowed your brow, what the hell was he talking about?

You weren’t one hundred percent confident that even if you were actually intoxicated that you’d understand him. Still, you snarled once more, revealing your pearly whites and your eyebrows were slit which seemed to compliment your angry glare.

However, he kept his steel-coated glance on you, and it almost annoyed you that his face was concealed by that high denim collar, else you would have had more satisfaction picturing yourself slapping him across the face.

“It’s a shame you continue this rather destructive behavior, you are acting like an animal. You have too much pride, or perhaps it’s something else,” he commented and you swore there was a suspicious tone to his voice.

“Shuddup!” you snapped as your face remained painted with the same angry expression as before, but he seemed to ignore this. “I have to correct people like you, it's part of my duty to society," those words made your eyes roll, who knew a hero could also be a broken record?

“If you took a moment away from your disgraceful acts, you could watch me. I'd show you what makes someone a hero,” his words caused your expression to drop, did he really want to show you how to be a hero? Was that some indication that he actually wanted to spend time with you?

He tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes. “Hm...” he hummed in his throat as he took note of your rather confused expression. “It seems you're calm now, strange,” he stated in his normal blunt fashion which seemed to flip that instant anger switch and you yet again bared your teeth at him.

However, much like before, this small act didn’t seem to affect Tsunagu. Instead, you could feel those restraints tighten which caused you to hitch your breath. “You have too much pride,” he stated, and while you would have loved to make a comeback to that rather insulting suggestion.

You were too busy clenching your jaw, trying to conserve the very little oxygen you had left as your current restraints continued to suffocate you. “Or…” he trailed off and slowly stepped forward, wanting to close the distance between you. However, this prompted you to begin thrashing around.

Though it was a little useless considering it was near impossible to break his hold and this, of course, was something he knew considering he came to a stop just a few inches from you and proceeded to lean down so he could be at eye-level with you.

This ceased your thrashing and you couldn't help but feel your cheeks illuminate with a certain warmth that came from the way he was staring which caused you to glance away. However, even in doing so, he still took in the subtle details of your eyes, how they widened and your pupils dilated.

Now there could be a variety of reasons why your pupils would do such a thing. However, without the slightest hint of alcohol one would normally have on their person if they were drunk or ‘claimed’ to be. He quickly came to the conclusion that you, in fact, were sober.

Which led to the question as to why you were pretending to be intoxicated. Then again, given your normal everyday behavior perhaps this was an improvement. “Hm…” the soft sound came again as he found himself consumed with his thoughts.

This caused an awkward silence to fill the air and you glanced back and forth, somewhat lost before you asked, “...what are you d-doing?” and latched onto your lip a few seconds later. You somewhat cursed the fact that you had stuttered and wondered if doing such would give you away or help your case.

Regardless, his glance remained on you while he continued to contemplate who knows what in his head and it was beginning to make you nervous. You were slightly ashamed to admit that your heart was pounding in your chest even with the restraints that remained wrapped around your body.

Tsunagu wasn’t normally a man that relied on dirty tricks to gain an advantage over someone. He had no time for lies or leading others on and yet in this special case, perhaps he could teach you a lesson about honesty. Be it in a strange way.

A gasp came when you felt those threads retract and watched as they returned to reshape the sleeves of his costume. You took a sharp inhale of breath just as your knees gave out causing you to fall to the ground. Your soft pants followed which didn’t exactly give Tsunagu any reassurance.

However, at least you were cognitive enough to tilt your head up to look at him. He merely blinked before he slowly knelt down and reached his hand out to gently cup the side of your face. This simple action wasn't exactly what you'd expect from him and you couldn't help but glance at his hand.

“It is something else…” he confirmed his earlier assumption which caused your eyes to shift away from his hand and back to his partially covered face. But that confused expression still painted your face and you parted your lips to speak, yet all that managed to come out was a soft and somewhat pathetic squeak.

There were so many questions that were running through your head, but the loudest of which was 'Why is he touching me!?' Oddly enough, he felt a certain sense of satisfaction fill him due to the fact he seemed to have thrown you off guard yet again. He gave a slight nod before pulling his hand away.

“Of course,” he began as he briefly turned his head to the side, “you certainly stand out,” he pointed his index finger towards you, and just like earlier, he seemed to push your buttons just right which had another growl rumbling in your throat. Stand out?

“Just what the hell is that supposed to mean!?” you snapped, once again feeling the way your anger fueled you. It was safe to assume he was referring to the fact you came from a rich family or perhaps that you had everything handed to you, unlike others that actually had to earn it.

“Hm,” he kept his head turned and reached up, allowing his thumb and index finger to glide over a piece of his hair. “We are all cut from the same cloth, but it's a shame you intend to pursue individuals in your own dysfunctional crowd,” once again he seemed to confuse you.

‘Where is this coming from?’ you thought, out of all the heroes you had met Best Jeanist was certainly the strangest. However, yet again Tsunagu seemed to know just what you were thinking and turned his attention to you once more.

That same cold as steel emotion filled his eyes. “You remain fixated on them as if they were as valuable as illegal denim,” his words were spoken in a deep tone and he reached forward once more, however unlike before he didn’t grasp your cheek.

Instead, you let out a yelp as he used his quirk again and took control of the fabric of your shirt, allowing several strings to aid him in yanking you forward. However, you barely had any time to register what was actually happening but as expected your body reacted first.

Your hands jutted forward, instinctively wanting to cushion the impact. But instead, one hand pressed against the man’s chest while the other clasped onto his knee. One could say that your breath was stolen from you at this moment and against your will, you felt your cheeks flush and the cool air ghost over them.

Then again your whole body felt heated and your heart continued to pound rapidly due to the fact you were so close to the one you admired. Yet, these sensations only seemed to grow stronger when the man decided to lean forward, continuing to close the very limited space between you.

That obvious demin aroma that surrounded him filled your nostrils, however, you could also detect the slightest hint of citrus. Unfortunately as strong as his scent was, it wasn't your main focus at the moment.

Rather you found yourself staring directly at Tsunagu who reached up to slowly unbuckle the small belt that looped around the top of his collar. The small prong clicked against the buckle as he pulled the piece of leather through the very few loops said collar had.

You swallowed as he lowered his hand to his side and the small belt that was now clasped in his palm swayed slightly before he carelessly dropped it to the floor. Your eyes lingered on the accessory before a soft noise beckoned your attention elsewhere.

Turning your head back, you were quick to realize that you still had your hands on Tsunagu. You glanced between each one and a sense of amusement filled him as he followed your gaze before pressing his lips together and glancing back up at your face.

He yet again took note of your facial expression and knew that at any moment, you’d pull your hands away and that’s when he’d release his quirk’s hold on you. Sure enough, just as he assumed, a gasp left your lips as you reeled your hands back.

However, you had expected to get tugged back, unable to move any further due to the control that Tsunagu still had over you or rather your shirt. Instead, you found yourself falling flat on your back with a soft "Oaf!" and the embarrassment you felt after, got the best of you.

The temperature of your face grew hotter and for a moment, your self-doubt came through. ‘This was a bad idea’ you thought, but the pro hero looked unphased as ever and simply gave a soft, “Hm,” of approval before he once again caught your attention.

He stood on his feet and reached up to unbutton the collar that hid his mysterious face which caused you to sit up. You could feel the sweat slowly drip down your flushed cheeks, yet you couldn't bring yourself to look away and Tsunagu's eyes remained locked on you.

He slowly unlatched each button of his collar, painstakingly revealing what lay behind the mask. As more of his face was revealed, your breath came to a halt at the sight of his flawless skin, squared jaw, and plush-looking lips.

Your mouth remained open as he spoke once more and it was a tad strange to see those lips of his move along with his words, “You fail to see the other varieties that are in front of you,” he said and you allowed your gaze to move up, looking him straight in the eye.

No words left your mouth and Tsunagu seemed to scoff as he turned his head yet again. He then crossed his arms with his eyes closed, normally he wouldn't let his guard down. But you were of little to no threat to him.

“To be quite frank, I know more about you than they could ever hope to,” his words were spoken in a deep, almost possessive tone which finally seemed to bring out your voice. “What the hell are you talking about!?” you snapped while frantically trying to stand on your feet.

However, fate seemed against you at the moment considering you ended up stumbling back. Luckily, you regained your balance instead of falling flat on the floor again. Then a sigh came before you finally muttered, “Fuck this plan,” considering things were getting a little too weird for you.

He seemed to sense your uncertainty, but such was to be expected. One could only play a game for so long before the truth eventually revealed itself. You narrowed your eyes at the man with your fists clenched by your sides as you waited for an explanation. But, it didn’t appear as though Tsunagu was going to give you one.

Rather, he resumed what he was saying just as he did with his previous sentence. “I know what taste of alcohol you like on your tongue, the brand of damaging nicotine you enjoy in your lungs, your brief moments of misjudgment, the type of tight and revealing clothing you flaunt about in,” he paused briefly and closed his eyes.

“And what type of fabric you urge to feel against your skin in addition to the value of your family’s dollar,” those words were spoken slowly as if he wanted to stretch out each syllable. Once again, your jaw dropped. Completely at a loss as to how this man continued to be so flawlessly blunt.

He took notice of how wide your eyes had gotten and yet the small size of your pupils. You looked rather offended and yet somehow, he enjoyed seeing you like that. Perhaps you had never been more attractive than when your walls finally crumbled.

He almost wanted to chuckle, but he restrained himself and instead, stepped forward and in one swift motion, brought his arm up. His hand curled into a fist as he repeated the same dirty trick from earlier and allowed several lines of fiber from your shirt to pull you forward and right up against him.

Your eyes widened before narrowing into a hateful glance, the fact that your nostrils were once again invaded by that demin scent wasn't the least bit comforting and you wasted no time in curling your hands into the front of his jacket. Handsome face or not you weren’t going to take this kind of disrespect.

Were you?

Tsunagu glanced away from you, “It’s quite unfortunate that your family, as respected as they previously were, used you as a mere asset to become a pro hero, a poor one at that and yet…” once more he trailed off and slowly turned his attention back on you.

He could feel the way your hands trembled as they continued to tighten their grip, he briefly glanced down before reaching up. Intending to place his hand over one of yours. However, you released your hold before he got the chance.

“You know nothing about me!” you hissed, daring to forcefully pull the man down. The fact that he towered over you would have previously been intimidating but at this moment, you couldn't care less. He was slightly surprised at your actions and found his own eyes widening at the now close distance between the two of you.

“Don’t pretend you know how I feel and don’t assume things about my family!” he merely blinked and you ignored the way his lips turned into a frown. He then reached out, attempting to cup your cheek but you slapped his hand away or at least tried to.

It was somewhat difficult considering fabric strings were in the way which you ended up hitting instead of Tsunagu’s hand. “Stop it with your damn quirk already!” you snapped before baring your teeth at the man despite knowing that you were the least intimidating person in his eyes.

You let out a sigh, somewhat hanging your head. It was impossible to have a proper argument with Best Jeanist of all people, at least when you were actually sober. You released your hold on his jacket and slapped the sides of your thighs in frustration.

“Mm…” he glanced at one of your hands and as you had requested earlier, ceased using his quirk which allowed your shirt to once again fall against your body. You almost hated yourself for believing that the man was finished, that he wouldn’t try his quirk on you again.

A few seconds later, you let out a yelp as your arm was forced up. The threads of it under his control and though he normally wouldn't act like this, he found himself somewhat desperate to continue having your attention on him.

“Damn it!” you growled but he ignored you and reached forward to grasp your hand knowing that you couldn't rip it away from him this time. However, as soon as you felt his rather gentle hold you snapped, “Let go of my hand!” and squeezed his as hard as you could.

But it seemed your minor strength was nothing compared to his or that he had a very good pain tolerance which in a way made sense. He was a pro hero after all and more than likely was used to getting tossed around.

“Yet,” he began and you rolled your eyes, clearly catching onto the fact that he was not going to let you go unless you listened to everything he had to say. “Even knowing all these facts, you are the most illegal form of clothing dye on my mind," once again you were confused by his words.

You squinted your eyes and furrowed your brow before asking, “...what?” as if he would actually give you an answer that would make sense. However, he yet again reached out and you raised your free hand, fully prepared to smack his attempted touch away once more.

But instead, he went for your hip. Firmly grasping it in order to keep you against him. This simple and seemingly innocent act made you gasp and your free hand yet again seemed to find its place against his chest where you allowed your eyes to linger on the man's exposed skin.

However, you could feel his intense stare that prompted you to look up. Though your eyes were wide, understandably in shock and surprise by his actions. This in combination with the growing lump in your throat didn’t help, and yet you found yourself locking eyes with the pro hero.

Then, much like earlier, he released his quirk’s hold on you and reached over to take the hand that laid on his chest. “Hey!” you shouted and while you wanted to pull away, he managed to slip his fingers between yours which aided him in securing his grip on you.

Most would view this as a dream come true, and yes normally it was heartwarming to be this physically close to the one you may or may not be attracted to. But, this was out of character for the pro hero. He would never act like this under normal circumstances unless...he already saw through your plan.

‘Damn it’ you growled inside your head before you felt him tighten his hold on your hip then he began leaning forward. “W-What are you doing!?” you demanded with a hiss, but that anger soon fleeted as he took a step to the side and pulled you along with him.

“Ah!” you stumbled, somewhat thankful that Tsunagu was holding onto you, else you would have ended up on the floor again. However, that didn’t stop you from digging your fingers into the denim of his shoulder and though you didn’t notice, your grip on his hand tightened as well.

Yet, that didn't stop you from screaming, “Fucking jerk!” which he seemed to yet again ignore and instead proceeded to look you directly in the eye. You raised your eyebrow and your lips formed a frown, you didn't exactly like the way he was staring at you. Was he looking for something?

His bangs hung down and lightly swayed in the air, yet his stare remained almost vacant and cold. “You live all night, dancing and drinking your life away in a matter most pathetic. You always get what you want, but that is only due to your status and nothing more,” he paused for a moment, taking a breath.

“Yet you hold a certain degree of stubbornness, refusing to quit your investment in this shameful lifestyle and yet, even with my continued interruption, you still fail to see me,” he rambled off, his eyes narrowing into an almost hateful glare.

Your lips curled to one side. “Fail to…” you couldn’t wrap your mind around Best Jeanist, despite the many many times you had run into each other. This was the longest and least heated conversation you had ever had with him to date.

Yet you couldn’t help the growl that rumbled in your throat before you leaned forward, lightly bumping your forehead against his. “I don’t give a damn about anything you just said!” God, enough with the games already.

“Stop talking in circles!” Maybe this would be more entertaining if you were actually drunk and you honestly wished you had consumed an alcoholic beverage or two before crashing the hero meeting. Part of you wondered if the heroes in the other room could hear the two of you, then again you didn't give a damn about that either.

He narrowed his eyes before he stepped back and once again pulled you along with him. However, you could feel the way he curled his fingers into your hip and tightened his hand around yours. Seems he was intent on keeping his hold on you for a bit longer.

“You give a damn,” he said, his voice fleeting of any emotion as he finally released his hold on you. Once again your eyes widened and your lips parted as you raised a finger in the air, wanting to make some type of snappy comeback. Yet, nothing came.

“Perhaps you’ll learn that one day,” he stated before placing his hand on his hip, “in addition to improving those cheap denim acting skills,” you felt your stomach drop and brought your hands to your chest where you felt the soft thumping of your heart.

Then without another word, he turned and walked towards the door. Out of shock, you remained where you stood. Like a statue, you watched as he stopped and reached for the doorknob. Your throat tightened and you found yourself wanting to say something, anything to maybe get him to stay?

But you quickly pushed that thought down, 'No, this is for the best,' as sad of a conclusion as that was to come to. You glanced down for a brief moment. 'He's not meant for me,' your gaze shifted back up, 'is he?' you suspected the answer would never come.

Another gasp came as he turned his head to look at you one last time, “I suggest looking for another way out that doesn’t further disturb this important meeting between the top five heroes,” he stated bluntly as he proceeded to rebutton his collar, once again concealing his face.

But, such a thing didn’t matter as the image of his mysterious face was forever burnt into your memory. No words came from you, not even a subtle nod. Rather your eyes shifted to the floor, where that small belt that normally went around the top of his collar still laid.

The two of you allowed the silence to linger and while you wanted to grab that belt, you continued to remain frozen under his watchful eyes that gave you one last look up and down before he opened the door. You swallowed and reached your hand out, wanting to say something but instead, you once more glanced at that belt.

Making a split-second decision, you quickly knelt down to grab it and found yourself smiling as you held it out. “Wait a min-” your words came to a sudden halt when you saw Tsunagu was already gone. A sigh came as you looked down at the belt in your hands.

“This was such a bad idea…” you muttered, feeling somewhat embarrassed that Best Jeanist had figured out your plan from the beginning, or at least most of it. However, unknown to you, he still remained standing on the opposite side of the door.

The subtle chatter from the continued conversations between the heroes in the other room lingered in the air but didn’t quite reach his ears. Normally, Tsunagu didn’t allow himself to indulge in daydreaming, and yet, he couldn’t help but allow a certain memory to come to mind.

It was shortly after he had discovered his true feelings for you, as disappointing of a conclusion as that was. He was sitting at his desk, his agency that was normally buzzing with interns and sidekicks was empty as he had sent them on various patrols.

Though normally he had his ‘perfect little angels’ on a tight schedule, lately he had been feeling a sort of muse that laid in the form of the open journal he was currently writing in. Various words of affection spilled across the pages and his hand ceased to stop.

His surroundings were deaf to his ears until a certain angry blond shattered the peace when he kicked open the doors of his office. “DAMN IT!” the boy snarled, but the pro hero remained unphased and continued to write. “Bakugou,” he replied, refusing to take his eyes away from the journal.

“You’re early, I assume you caused trouble,” he then paused and finally glanced up at Katsuki. Much like always, the young hero in training was wearing an angry expression and his lips were curled up in a snarl, revealing his clenched teeth.

“Pff,” Katsuki replied as he reached up and pulled his black eye mask up. “What the hell is that supposed to mean!?” he snapped, his angry stomps echoing as he made his way to Tsunagu’s desk. Opening his mouth to speak or more than likely, yell again.

However, at the last moment, he seemed to have spotted the familiar journal that his mentor was writing in. “Eh?” his current expression dropped, now replaced with a raised eyebrow. 'What the hell is he writing in it this time?' he thought before once again clenching his jaw.

“What the hell is that?” he demanded as he reached out to try and snatch that journal away from the pro hero, however much like expected. Best Jeanist wasn’t that easy to trick and he proceeded to hold the journal up while simultaneously using his quirk to bond Katsuki’s hands and legs together.

“HEY!” he snapped as he tried to wiggle against the restraints, however, Tsunagu simply shook his head and proceeded to close the journal with a loud thump. “I do believe you need a lesson on respecting other's privacy,” he stated before he released the young boy.

He then proceeded to round his desk with the journal still firmly clasped in his hand. “Pff,” the angry blond once again scoffed and curled his hands into fists. He then turned, narrowing his eyes on his mentor.

Despite Katsuki’s respect for the number three hero, he had on occasion snuck a peek at that damned journal which seemed to take Best Jeanist’s interest whenever it was out. Was it embarrassing knowing that your mentor had feelings for another?

Katsuki didn't have an answer. But he knew that you, in particular, made an embarrassment of the hero name which made him question just why Best Jeanist favored you rather than more fitting individuals that would more than likely be a better match for him.

But hell, he wasn’t going to argue with the man. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t voice his opinion. “Like Y/n is a welcomed nuisance?” he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his face as he watched the pro hero stop dead in his tracks.

Then, he slowly turned his head. His eyes were narrowed and though his face was hidden, it was clear he was annoyed by Katsuki’s statement even though it was correct and true. He had spent time and time again thinking about you, writing page after page of the most beautiful words.

However, this was also a danger as he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted nor feel the way he did about you. But, it seemed like the two of you were always playing some kind of game. Always in denial, always fighting against your heart and mind.

Katsuki turned to fully face his mentor with his hands still clenched at his sides even as he stomped over to the man. There were so many things he could say, but there was only one thing Best Jeanist seemed to need to hear at the moment.

He tilted his head back and took a deep long breath. ‘I can’t believe I’m about to say this,’ he thought before a sigh left his lips. He then pointed a finger at the older man, “Just confess your damn feelings already!” he snapped as he stomped his foot against the floor.

“Y/n's, not a damned worthy hero,” he stated before crossing his arms and glancing away from Best Jeanst, “but if you like them, stop being a damn coward already,” he knew talking to his mentor like this may land him in hot water, but he didn’t care.

However, his words weren’t greeted with any type of response. Rather Tsunagu only turned his head and absentmindedly stared at the wall. Then, a subtle, almost inaudible sigh left his lips as he reached up and rested his curled-up fist against his forehead, slightly tilting his head further into his collar.

‘If only it were that easy,’ he thought before he glanced up, ‘still...Y/n is quite stubborn. It would be one thing if they channeled all that destructive energy into their hero work, then they'd learn how to appreciate their pride another way,’ his mind went blank before he allowed his hand to fall to his side.

Katsuki raised his eyebrow again, “Eh?” it was a tad bizarre that his mentor wasn’t saying anything. Sure he had his moments of silence, but this was different. He took a step forward, parting his lips to speak the man’s name. But that’s when Best Jeanist moved, ceasing any words from leaving the young hero's mouth.

Instead, he watched as the man walked over to the nearby window where he gazed at his own reflection in the glass, taking note of the uncertain expression that he wore. He then reached up and pressed his hand against the window, the glass felt cold and yet soothing somehow.

He glanced down, contemplating Katsuki's words with a distant look in his eye. ‘So then...what do I do with them now?’ he thought but knew that no answer would come to mind. Not even as he found himself coming back to present reality.

“Perhaps one day, they’ll know what I truly desire from them,” of course, his own personal desires that revolved around you were selfish which shouldn't come as a surprise. But the long-term goals he'd like to see you achieve were selfless.

But one thing was clear, you couldn't help someone who didn't want to help themselves. Yet the fact that you had decided to try and execute this rather sloppy plan while sober may, in a strange way, be the initial first step to a better life.

Perhaps next time the fabric strings of fate permitted you to meet, you'd both be in a better mindset. With that thought, he shook his head and proceeded to straighten himself out. Until that happened, he'd continue to try and stray himself away from any distractions.

Yet, he already knew that you would always linger in the back of his head. How long this attraction would last was unknown and maybe the two of you just needed to get your lives straight before you could once again cross paths properly.

It was this very idea that instilled a certain type of hope within him, despite the idea being rather childish, at least in his opinion. Perhaps there was no harm in allowing yourself to believe in a blissful future with the one you desired.