#n its not like i could have predicted All This happening but it feels bad anyway

[monsterbisexual]

bday tomorrow huh

[livelaughlovesubs]

Omg omg for the prompt thing making Fyodor and/or Sukuna beg and kneel pls 🙏

KEKEKEKEKE YES YES YES one fedya and one sukuna right away! (Edit: I really like how fedya’s turned out?)

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor/ sub!sukuna (separate)

Warning: begging & kneeling (both) ~light size kink, monster fucker (sukuna’s true form hehe), marking, biting, nipple play, groping, teasing~ (sukuna)

Anniversary event

Fyodor

“What a pleasant surprise, the demon Dostoyevsky is looking for my humble self?” You sat back and got into a comfortable position, voice dripping with fake politeness as you sneakily eyed him up and down. It was well-known that he’s a dangerous individual, you had to be careful. “Oh please, no need to use such flattering words. I’m here to ask for a favour after all.” Fyodor smiled gently, if you didn’t know better you’d think he was a kind and innocent man.

“A favour? I’m not sure I have anything worthy of your standard.” How you wished he’d just leave and never come back, you didn’t like this pressure one bit. “You are too modest, y/n. I’m aware of how knowledgeable you actually are.” He commented. On the surface it looked like a compliment, yet you understood the implications behind it. “Is that so? Because I’m not sure what you are talking about.” You continued playing the naive card, it was the safest bet for now.

The male chuckled, his posture was straight as he stared right into your eyes, maintaining eye contact. “Then, I’ll get straight to the point,” he said, his tone shifting from a distinct softness to a rather serious one. “I want information about the book.” You knew about his ambitions, and his goals, which is why you knew what he wanted from you. As such, his request didn’t come off as a surprise, and it didn’t show on your face neither. But fyodor already took that into account, he knew it as well.

Someone with infinit information and someone smart enough to predict the future, what a match.

You had to think carefully, even if you weren’t as intelligent as this genius in front of you, you had an advantage. Because it’s him who’s asking for a favour. “What will I gain out of telling you?” For a split second, his dead eyes lit up, as if you peaked his curiosity. “A future rid of sinners, mankind in its most glorious form. One where order and harmony spreads across the world.” What grand endeavours he had, but it didn’t concern you in the slightest.

“How do I put it, your offer isn’t enticing enough.” You thought you had won, keeping a collected face to mask your small victory. Though it seems it wasn’t over yet, since his next words send a chill down your spine. “I expected so, that’s why that’s not everything.” He then got up from his seat, getting dangerously close to you. His eyes bore a determined and prideful look, one that pierced your soul, that made him seem all knowing.

“You aren’t the only one who did a background check.” Fyodor sneered, now standing right in front of you, staring down at you with those violet eyes. “I wonder if you’ll still refuse me if I do this?” Somehow, you had a bad feeling about this, your stomach curled as you hesitated. Each movement seemed so difficult due to the pressure, it was suffocating. You knew he was great at manipulation, at using others, especially their desires, and he understood human emotions so well it was terrifying.

Since you knew all of that, you were prepared, no?

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.

He dropped onto his knees, the gaze in his eyes shifted, though still prideful, it was more.. docile now. As gracefully as ever, he placed his hands on his lap, staring up at you with the same tender expression as before. Meek smile and big, carefully planned puppy eyes, though you knew it was an act, it stirred emotions you didn’t want to feel. It made your heart soft.

If you were still resolute, hanging onto your willpower, then you were gone after the next sentence from the male. Fyodor did his homework very throughly. That sickly sweet and addicting voice, laced with a hint of need, whispering in a tone that made your insides tingle, “please fulfil my little request, I’d do anything for it. I… beg of you? Moya lyubov?” A faint blush crept up his pale cheeks, adding even more flavour to the already fantasy-like show laid out before you. Now, you couldn’t help but grin all sadistic, for you have fallen into the temptation of the devil itself.

Sukuna

Oh how he treasured you, it was beyond the grasp of his other supporters.

With how things stand, you were his only weakness, and they couldn’t let that be. Yet, their lord, the king of curses, was too smitten with you to care. All they wanted was a reason, an answer to their question: why?

It goes all the way back to when he was like any other human. Not with four arms, and four eyes, not even when he was the strongest sorcerer. No, back in time where he was simply human. From that point onwards, you’ve always accompanied him, stayed by his side and cheered him on. It was only a matter of time until he’d eventually become soft with you. And now, even after his body mutated into his current state, you stayed by his side with the same conviction like decades ago.

But due to him being used to killing, and him just being so much stronger than you, a part of him was afraid of crushing your delicate body into pieces. That’s why he refused to touch you until he was sure he had full control over his strength. What if a simple hug ended with you dying in his arms? He couldn’t let that happen now could he.

Even so that didn’t hold you back, rather, you were amused by his dedication. At times it was annoying how he saw you as a frail porcelain doll, though you were mostly enjoying this peculiar circumstance. Especially when you are sitting behind his massive form, kissing his neck and leaving hickeys while your hands trail around his body, exploring every single inch. And he couldn’t stop you at all.

You pulled back to admire your own work, then made yourself bigger and leaned over his shoulder, “you don’t mind if I continue, right?” He didn’t answer you, only giving you a half-assed glare as he stayed put. You took it as a yes, since, if he didn’t want to, he could always just standup and leave. That’s why your eager hands wandered to his full breasts, cupping them with your palm as you smirked perversely. Wasn’t it just so much fun? Doing whatever you wanted to the strongest men alive?

After squeezing them to your hearts content, you used your fingertips to circle around his pink nipples. He had such a tough body, and high pain resistance, so it’s the gentle touches that make him lose his mind. “…really? You like my chest that much?” Sukuna sighed, despite how much he’d complain, he never objected to your antics. “Yep, they are awesome.” You answered almost immediately, he was almost impressed by how shameless you were.

“Huh, I don’t get the appeal.” He said, though he liked having your attention on him. “I just like feeling you up with my hands.” You admitted, and, as if to prove your point, slid one hand down to his mouth-tummy. “Mhm..” The male coughed, acting as if he was clearing his throat. Seeing as you finally drew a reaction out of him, you began to fondle his body again. One hand stayed around his pecs, rubbing his hardened bud, the other one jumping from one place to another. As of now, you were using it to grope his inner thighs.

“Hmmm- haaah, y/n, you really are something.” He panted, closing his eyes, immersing himself in the sensations you gifted him. “No need to hold back, we are by ourselves.” You whispered, before going back to sucking and biting his shoulder blades. Even though that’s what you said, he didn’t need your words, until you began tugging on his sensitive nipple. “Nghh, ah… damn it.” When he realised what noise just slipped from his lips, he cursed under his breath, an almost invisible blush covering his cheeks and shoulders. It was the most noticeable around his ears.

When you glanced over his shoulder again, you noticed the growing bulge in his pants. Now you really couldn’t hide your grinning anymore, stopping whatever you were doing with your hands and instead hugging him from behind. He didn’t object at first, but got annoyed after a while, taunting you, “..aren’t you going to continue? What, suddenly feeling embarrassed?” To which you replied, “it seems like you don’t enjoy what I’m doing, so, of course, I stopped.” Liar, that’s what you say whenever you want something from him.

“And how can I prove you otherwise?” Sukuna feigned a groan, though you saw how the corners of his mouth twitched. “Get on your knees and beg, then I’ll believe you ♡.”

You must be the luckiest human on earth, for surviving after asking him to do something like that, and that he’s into this power tipping thing as long as he gets to do it with you. So, without much delay, he popped down from the bed and smiled confidently, as he basically demanded, “touch me more,,, please?”

“…”

you had to teach him how to really beg

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Sleepless nights

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - you go on a routine mission which ends badly how will your girlfriend react

Warnings - gunshots, violence, bullet wounds, mention of stitches, likely medically incorrect, blood, hospital? Not proofread

word count - 1.5k

A/n - I dont know what happened while writing this its all a blackout. As always any feedback is rlly appreciated!!!

It was just supposed to be another simple routine mission. Over and done with in a matter of hours. But of course nothing was ever as easy as predicted.

It had all been going with relative ease until you and Clint were fighting off agents left and right. Something you were usually both good at. However where you'd found yourselves was very much enclosed meaning you couldn't run and you had no idea how many or where these agents were coming from. Your backs were against each other as you moved in circular motions around the room.

"You did this you know, everything was going just fine until you said 'wow this mission has been quite the breeze.'" You mimick Clints earlier words in a squeaky high pitched voice while taking out a couple agents. "Couldn't have just waited till we were on the quinjet could you?"

"Look I really thought it was over. At least I wasn't the one who knocked over the vase alerting everyone in the Tri-state area of our location." He pipes back as you both fall into the usual bickering banter you often did, squabbling like small children. You and Clint had always been close and worked well with each other despite the constant pecking at each other. You'd become even closer once you'd gotten together with his best friend Natasha. Well, after he stopped threatening you about breaking her heart that is.

"Okay well atleast I'm not stupid."

"Yeah real mature. What does that even mean?" He retorts back with a chuckle at how quickly you begin to lose an argument and just throw childish insults at him.

"I thought you'd be smart enough to understand a simple senten-.." You trail off as you see an agent aiming at Clint, one he hadn't noticed. Though you considered letting the agent hit him and getting to be considered the better fighter it wasn't worth letting your friend die just to one up him.

"Clint watch out." You yell frantically as you watch the agent take aim. Clint wasn't going to have time to move. You panicked and shoved him to the floor knocking him from the bullet.

You don't think much of it when you don't see the bullet land or even when you vision blurs. It's only you notice somethings up when you see a blood splattering on your hand. Instinctively you look for Clint worried something hit him but you find him staring right back at you. That's when you feel the searing pain from your hip. Placing a hand over it to find out what's wrong, you feel a cold and wet substance spilling from it.

Thats when everything starts spinning. Moving too quick but not fast enough at all. The pain feeling worse, like nothing you've ever felt before as the adrenaline wears off and the severity of the situation sets in.

"Y/n look at me." Clints voice is grounding and calm making you briefly feel better. "There's no agents left okay. We're going to walk together to the quinjet, don't rush yourself it's going to be okay." You nod along even though your unsure you'll be able to walk that far as your vision fades in and on like a flickering TV.

He moves over to you and presses your hand firmly over the wound. "Keep your hand there and apply as much pressure as you can." Despite the way you stumble around as you try to apply any pressure at all to the wound he still sounds calm like he believes you can do this.

His hand hooks around you helping hold you up as the two of you begin a slow walk back. Things aren't looking too bad at first I mean sure you can hardly see infront of you an everytime you open your mouth to speak the only thing that sounds is a groan of pain but your managing it, you feel yourself believe you'll be able to do this walk back.

That is all before you trip over a stone which sends you tumbling onto your front, directly where the bullet wound is is where you hit the hardest when you fall causing you to scream out in pain with a noise you never knew you'd make. Clint immediately tries to pull you back to your feet while telling you how close you are to getting home but it's no use as your body goes stiff, legs refusing to move.

"Natasha is gonna kill me." I mumble half heartedly as he holds me up and my vision fades for what I believe might be the final time.

"Not if she kills me first." He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

Two days. Two whole days they said you were out for. You missed two days. Two days where you didn't see Natasha but she saw you, she sat by you every minute she could and when she couldn't sit anymore she slept by you not leaving for a second. She wouldn't even leave your hospital room for food. Clint having to practically force food down her throat so she didn't end up in a hospital bed alongside you.

You blinked awake. You'd been awake about an hour prior but were too drugged up to process anything going on and had quickly fallen back into your slumber. This time you were much more determined to stay awake, that and your pain medication was wearing off and you could begin to feel a sharp pain replacing the previously dull one.

As you woke yourself up to the bright white fluorescent lights of the hospital, those lights which practically felt blinding. Giving you little time to adjust to being awake, Natasha started speaking.

"So what happened?" She sounded angry. A little rough maybe as the Russian tinged her accent slightly in a way you only heard few times. As you located where her voice had come from, a small chair just to the left of your bed. Now that you could see her she seemed more worn out or stressed out the angry. Dark circles lurked under her eyes as her forhead creased showing visible lines.

"Uh.. didn't uhm.. Clint... tell you." You slowly mumble out as you try to push myself into a sitting position but before you can Natasha is up and pushing you back down to lie down.

"The doctor said you can't sit up yet or you'll move the stitches. And no he hasn't explained anything, so you better." She lays your head back on the pillow with such a contrasting softness to the way she's speaking which is almost as if she's interrogating you.

You roll your head over the side to face her as you recount what you remember from the mission. "So basically me and Clint, well especially me are kicking ass knocking these agents to the ground. But then one aims at Clint and I push him out the way and now we're here." You explain the best you can but it's just so difficult when your heads all fuzzy and until five minutes ago you were convinced you were dead. "I thought I was gonna die 'Tasha."

"You shouldn't put yourself at risk like that baby." She says while brushing stray hairs away from your face and back behind your ears. "Things could have been a lot worse.." her voice trails off all usual roughness gone as she appears as if she may break down crying at any second. "I could have lost you."

That's all it takes for you to start crying as hot tears stream your face making it hard to see anything. Seeing your deteriorating emotional state Natasha makes the descion to crawl into the bed next to you. "Oh hush now, it's alright. I was just worried about you lyubov." she coos while leaning over to kiss your dampened cheek.

"I know I know.. I'm just really sorry... I dont ever want to lose you Natasha." Your tears keep falling despite her soft, reassuring words.

"Y/n, I don't want to lose you either. Which is why I think it could be time we retired before either of us do. Of course it's up to you though, I won't pressure you."

It takes you a minute to process her words but when you do your glad for them. You'd been considering at least cutting down your workload recently but hadn't considered Natasha would be open to retirement at such a young age. You can feel your face break out into a small smile as she suggests it herself. Her own face is one of nervous apprehension as she chews on her lip.

"Yes. Please I want nothing more than to retire and with you." You reach in to kiss her face eagerly. Your lips smothering hers in an almost desperate fashion as if you were worried it could be your last.

"If this is what retirement is like I cant wait." She whispers as she pulls away from your lips, nipping them gently first. She cups your face in her hands before leaning back in.

[girlgenius1111]

pay for your crimes

part 4! Ona and R get Alexia and Mapi back for trying to play Cupid. Or they try to.

no warnings!

You and Ona spent the morning... busy. You spent the afternoon busy too, but in a different, less sexy way: figuring out how to trick two of the most observant people on the team was a challenge. The two of you decided that Ona would call Alexia and tell her that you didn't reciprocate her feelings. You would continue your radio silence to Mapi, as if nothing had happened. At practice tomorrow, you and Ona wouldn't speak to each other, and you figured Mapi would corner you and try to get you to talk, if she didn't call you immedietly after hearing from Alexia. You'd tell her nothing happened, and even though she'd presumably know the truth from Alexia, she wouldn't be able to admit it.

The biggest problem here was Ona; she was a horrible liar. Growing up, she didn't hide much from her parents, so she didn't get practice then like most teenagers do. You really didn't know how her call to Alexia was going to go.

Predictably, Alexia answered on the first ring, her voice ringing out into the room over the speaker, clearly expecting to be told how good she was at matchmaking.

"Hola Capi" Ona let her voice quiver slightly. You turned away from her, worried eye contact would cause both of you to break into giggles.

"Ona! How did it go?" Alexia's words were said with so much excitement, you almost felt bad. Almost.

"Not great."

"What?" The confusion in Alexia's tone had you biting your lip to keep from laughing.

"We talked. You were wrong, Ale. She doesn't have feelings for me. And I didn't tell her I had any for her. I think it's better we just keep some space until we can be friends again." Ona's voice was filled with emotion, and you knew it was the stress of lying, but it sounded like she was genuinely upset.

"No, Ona that can't be right. I'm... i'm sure she has feelings for you."

"What because of the way she looks at me? I don't think that is more convincing than her telling me to my face that she doesn't have feelings for me."

"No, Ona it's not just that. Its..." Alexia was clearly struggling to not admit that she had firsthand testimony that you had admitted to being in love with Ona. "It's more than that. You just have to trust me, go talk to her again," she practically begged.

"Ale, I already trusted you. It didn't work out that well. She doesn't feel the same way, it's time to move on."

"Ona if you just-" Alexia sounded almost frantic at this point.

"No, Capi. I just need some time okay? I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, Ona hung up, just in time for both of you to collapse into laughter. She'd impressed you, keeping it together well. It turns out that the shakiness in her voice from being dishonest seemed similar to how she sounds when she's emotional.

The two of you had just stopped laughing, and regained your breath, when your phone rang. Seeing Mapi's caller ID flash on your phone literally only minutes after hanging up with Alexia was enough to push you both into another fit of hysterical laughter. You had to let the phone ring out before you could pull yourself together, wiping a few stray tears from your eyes.

"Alright, keep it together, I'm gonna call Mapi back. And Ona, don't you dare look at me or I'll lose it again." Ona took a deep breath, wiping the smile off her face, and turned around so her back was facing you on the couch. You took a deep breath too, before pressing the call button. Mapi answered before the first ring had even finished.

"Hey Mapi. What's up?" You made sure to sound a little dejected, but as though you were trying to hide it.

"Y/n! Um..." Mapi trailed off; it seemed she hadn't really thought calling you through all the way, and she didn't know what to say. Digging your nails into your palms to stop yourself from laughing again, you waited for her to decide what to say.

After a minute she finally spoke. "Patri told me you left the bar with Ona last night. What happened?" She tried to sound casual, but you could hear the serious tone in her voice. Ona turned to look at you, mouthing the words, Sure, Patri told you, before you pushed her shoulder to turn her back around.

"Oh yeah. I was just kind of drunk and freaked out over those weird guys. She just took me home. Nothing happened." You, as opposed to Ona, were a great liar. You knew how to lie, and how to layer a lie; allowing someone to see through what you wanted them to, but not alerting them to what was really going on. You let your voice shake slightly, trying to sound as though you were putting on a brave face.

You were met with silence from the other end of the phone. You don't think you'd ever lied to Mapi before, and she clearly didn't know what to do with it. She would know from Alexia that you and Ona slept together, and had a conversation, but she had no way of telling you that. She was stuck.

"Are you sure, nena? If something happened, you can tell me." Her voice sounded so genuine, so reassuring, that you had to really fight to keep yourself from telling her the truth.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Nothing happened." You cleared your throat, hoping to make it seem like you were fighting back tears. "I'm hungover though, and I don't really feel that good, so I'll see you tomorrow."

You hung the phone up before she could respond, groaning as you sat back heavily on the couch. Ona turned around, pulling your body to lay your head in her lap. She smiled down at you, and you grinned back up at her, admiring the freckles that adorned her face. You were beginning to think they were one of your favorite of her features. She absentmindedly ran her hands through your hair, and you melted a little at the sweet gesture.

"Should I be worried at how good of a liar you are?" She made it sound like she was joking, but you could sense a hint of insecurity in her voice. Instead of responding right away, you pulled her head down, pressing a deep kiss to her lips. When you broke apart, she was gasping for air, her eyes looking slightly dazed.

"As long as I keep kissing you like that, you don't have anything to worry about. I'll never lie to you, Oni. Promise." She returned your smile, before it fell from her face. Concerned, you asked her what was wrong.

"I'm gonna have to lie to Alexia tomorrow. In person. All day." She looked genuinely terrified at the prospect.

You laughed, "You're just gonna have to try your best to seem like an emotional mess and not a lying one." She sighed, clearly thinking deeply about how she was going to approach the next day.

-----

Ona returned to her apartment that night, and you decided you would arrive early to practice, to see if anyone asked you any questions, and Ona would arrive late, to avoid being asked questions right away.

You walked down the hall towards the locker room, thinking you would be the first person there. You stopped when you heard voices, leaning against the wall to shamelessly eavesdrop.

"-don't understand, why would she lie to me? She's never lied to me before, this is not normal." You felt a pang of guilt at the sound of Mapi's voice. She sounded really concerned, and kind of hurt. You reminded yourself that her and Alexia needed to be taught a lesson about their matchmaking, as they were getting too confident in their skills.

"I don't understand why they won't just admit whats going on to each other. I mean y/n straight up told Ona she didn't have feelings for her. They are making this so complicated, and now we have to get even more involved," Alexia sounded frustrated.

"I hate to point this out," Ingrid broke in, although she didn't sound that regretful, "but if you guys hadn't meddled in their relationship, they might have been able to take their time and figure things out themselves."

You didn't have to see Mapi and Alexia's faces to know they were both glaring at Ingrid.

"Helpful, Ingrid. Thank you. Ale's right though, we have to fix it, maybe we can-"

You walked in then, airpods in, pretending you hadn't been eavesdropping. You made sure to keep your gaze down, and your face neutral as you headed to your locker and set your stuff down. You could feel the three girls staring at you, and you pulled your airpods out before looking over at them.

"Hi?" You acted confused, catching them staring at you.

"Hola, y/n. How are you?" It was Alexia who responded, her eyes looking over you searchingly.

"Fine. How are you?" you turned back to your stuff, still listening, but began to pull your training kit out of your bag.

"I'm... fine." Alexia responded slowly, and you hummed in response, pretending to be distracted. The rest of the team started to trickle into the locker room, and you let yourself fall into conversation with Pina and Patri, who, unlike some other people, would never have mentioned to anyone that she saw you and Ona making out against the wall.

You watched Ona walk in out of the corner of your eye, and she sent you a small smile, back turned to Ingrid, Mapi, and Alexia, who were still huddled together in front of Mapi's locker, looking as though they were trying to construct a solution to end world hunger. They weren't paying attention to you, so you sent Ona a small smile back, before turning back to your conversation.

You didn't notice Ingrid clock the looks you and Ona exchanged, or the way her eyes followed the two of you the rest of practice. You and Ona made a game of it, seeing who could make the fake tension between the two of you the most obvious.

You thought you had won when you pretended to hear someone calling your name on the other side of the field when Ona neared the water cooler you were standing by. However, Ona took the cake when she took you out with a particularly nasty tackle that left you sprawled out on the grass, not bothering to apologize, going so far as to step over you before you could get up. The whole team exchanged looks at that one, and even though your body ached from the impact, you really weren't mad; Ona was competitive, you knew this.

Mapi helped you up, shooting a glare at Ona, and you had to hide your smirk in your shirt, wiping off your face with it. You still hadn't noticed Ingrid watching the two of you carefully, whereas Mapi and Alexia were individually focused on each of you.

When practice ended, you headed into the locker room, leaving a couple players out on the pitch to work on penalties, including Mapi and Alexia. As you neared the door to the locker room, you felt a sharp pain on your ear and yelped, feeling yourself be dragged down the hall. You heard a similar yelp coming from the other side of you, but at the risk of losing your ear, you didn't turn around to look for the source. Instead, you let yourself be pulled into the medical supplies closet, turning to face Ingrid, who let go of your and Ona's ears once the door shut behind her.

She looked at the two of you, raising an eyebrow, before she reached out a hand and pulled the neck of Ona's training top down slightly, revealing the many, many hickeys littered across her upper chest. It's possible you had gotten carried away yesterday morning, and Ona had to be careful about which top she wore, as the marks were barely covered by her shirt. Ingrid must have spotted one peaking out. You both blushed, and Ingrid sighed.

"You know that you're driving both of them crazy right? They think they've ruined your relationship, and both of you are going to die alone unless they do something to fix it." You fought back a laugh, and could tell Ona was doing the same.

"This is what they get for trying to play cupid. It could have ended like this, and they need to be taught a lesson. Who knows who their next victim could be," you joked, looking for a laugh from Ingrid, but only finding a serious face. "Oh come on, Ingrid, I heard you telling them the same thing this morning in the locker room." Ingrid opened her mouth to respond, but Ona interrupted her.

"Wait, how did you know?" she questioned, and Ingrid rolled her eyes.

"It's painfully obvious to everyone except those two! The little looks, little smirks at each other when you think no on is watching. That absurd tackle. The only people who don't know are Alexia and Mapi, because they're too upset to notice." Ingrid was shamelessly scolding you both, and you started to feel guilty. She turned her attention to you before speaking again. "You know Mapi cried yesterday when she got off the phone with you? She knew you were lying to her and she couldn't understand what she did to make you not trust her."

It made sense why Ingrid was so upset. She was fiercely protective of Mapi, and even though you knew she agreed with you, making her girlfriend cry was clearly a step too far.

You sighed, "We weren't trying to upset them, it was just supposed to be a little joke." Ona murmured her agreement with your statement.

"Well you did upset them. They both really care about the two of you, and thought they had really messed up. So now you're gonna go march into that room and tell them the truth, before you make my girlfriend cry again. Got it?" Her hands were on her hips, and she was glaring at both of you as you hung your heads in shame, and agreed. Ingrid had a reputation for being a big softie, but she could really turn on the stern when she wanted to.

She led you out of the closet, bringing you to an empty conference room, leaving with a warning to stay put. You and Ona looked at each other, exchanging wide eyed glances, not finding the situation so funny anymore.

"Damn, I really didn't expect them to be that upset," you stated.

"You know, I always assumed Mapi was in charge in that relationship, but clearly I've underestimated Ingrid" Ona mused, shutting her mouth tightly as the door opened again.

Ingrid walked in, with an incredibly confused Alexia and Mapi trailing in after her. You met Mapi's eyes, and she looked so worried that the guilt you felt tripled. Ingrid gestured for everyone to take seats at the table, looking like the least professional business meeting anyone had ever had.

"Tell them what you two did," Ingrid said, when it became clear neither you nor Ona were going to start the conversation. Mapi and Alexia turned to the two of you, confused.

"Well. We did talk yesterday. And we realized that the two of you were both telling each other things, and trying to get us together, and we were kind of annoyed, so we decided to tell you guys that we weren't together. But, we are. We figured it out," you started.

Ona continued, "and we didn't mean to make you guys upset, we thought it would just be funny."

Alexia and Mapi looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute, before saying at the same time, "so you ARE together?"

You and Ona nodded, and the two girls opposite you let out huge sighs of relief. Mapi ran her hands over her face, and you hadn't realized how tense she had looked until you watched it leave her body. Alexia looked like she was fighting back tears, which was incredibly alarming; you'd seen Alexia cry maybe 3 times. You and Ona started spouting out more apologies, but Mapi held up a hand, and you both grew quiet.

"We were upset because we though we'd pushed too hard and ruined your relationship. Can you imagine how guilty we felt? Lying to us was really mean. That being said, we shouldn't have started conspiring together in the first place, and for that, I'm sorry." Mapi was so rarely serious, it was really a sight to behold.

"What happened to the little Ona I knew that used to cry every time she lied?" Alexia was glaring at Ona, and you laughed quietly.

"She used it to her advantage. She had to sound upset to be convincing," you responded, and Ona slapped your arm, shooting you a glare.

"Alright, we've all apologized, everyone knows the truth, are we free to go now," Ona asked, directing her question towards Ingrid.

Ingrid looked between the two of you for a moment, before sighing, and standing up, heading towards the door.

"Fine. But you should probably make sure to cover up those hickeys all over your chest before you change in front of everyone tomorrow Oni." She smirked back at you, heading back into the locker room, as Alexia and Mapi looked at the two of you in horror. Ona made to bolt out of the room, and Alexia chased after her, demanding to see what ungodly things Ona had allowed you to do to her.

Mapi still looked grossed out at the thought, but you crossed the room, wrapping yourself around her in a hug.

"I'm sorry I lied. I never meant to make you feel like I didn't trust you," you mumbled into her shirt. She wrapped her arms around you, squeezing tight.

"All forgiven, nena. I can't stay mad at you. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." You pulled back, smiling at her. You heard a shriek come from the locker room, followed by Alexia's voice.

"My god! One wasn't enough, y/n, you needed to leave 15?" You winced, and Mapi looked down at you, her face once again one of disgust. You shrugged at her, and she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, walking you back to the locker room, hopefully to help you save your girlfriend from Alexia, but more likely to join in on the teasing. You found that you didn't really mind it.

-----

this was.. way more fun to write than I was expecting. hope you enjoyed :)

[orcusfang]

Whence the Sorrow Flow [Part One]

Pet!AU Aizetsu x pregnant Fem!Reader

'As the owner of a well known demon grooming salon, business has flourished the years following its opening. All kinds of demon pets are brought to you day in, day out. And with a partnership with the local rescue, one would think you’ve secured a comfortable living in this bustling city. However, nothing could be further from the truth, and wherever you go an unwanted shadow that isn’t your own is intent on haunting your every step. You try to go on with your life, but after months of enduring this hell you’re mentally in the gutter. When a longtime friend from the local rescue brings in a timid and anxious demon for a makeover, he once again tries to convince you to adopt a demon of your own. Usually you shrug off the suggestion, never giving it much thought. But now that the question whether or not you still considered yourself safe can’t be answered with certainty anymore, you consider the possibility. And he just happens to know the perfect demon for your situation…'

--------- A/N: So, I started this back in August last year and never really wrote this with the intention to post it? Most of it was inspired by a RP I had with a friend at the time, but I shared two previews on Twitter over the past months and people really seemed to like it and have been asking about it ever since. So… I’m posting it! Warnings: This story contains darker themes, domestication, heavier topics, pregnancy, stalking, master/pet relationship. And for later chapters: mating cycles/heat, dubious consent at times and eventual explicit sexual content. A reminder, this story is written with an adult audience in mind. So even though not all chapters have sensitive matters in them; no minors, please! Read at your own risk! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you liked it :] Word Count: 9732

As the owner of a demon grooming salon in the center of a bustling city, you had seen just about any demon you could’ve dared to imagine. After almost four years of being in this profession, you didn’t think you could still lay an eye on a demon and genuinely find yourself surprised and impressed. From the most pampered and arrogant demons that actually considered themselves above you; to the most shy and anxious of demons – you’d seen it all as far as you were concerned.

It was fascinating how a demon's place and status in the world depended on their owners. And yet, it was utterly unfair to those born in unfortunate circumstances.

However, every once in a while the lovely folks over at the local demon rescue were eager to drop by a demon that would forever expand your experience, and it just so happened that today was rescue demon grooming day.

It wasn’t an official day of any sorts, but whenever one of the workers there reached out to you for an appointment for one of their demons, you made certain to not take on any other clients that same day. There had been a time when you did, but… you’d learned the hard way to not book anyone else.

Because the demons that got rescued by them? They were often in very bad and questionable shape, and there was simply no predicting what you would see with a new appointment with the rescue group. No matter how many times they had visited for a makeover on a demon they deemed suitable for adoption, every single time they stepped through the salon’s door with the demon in tow, and you witnessed the state they were in – something deep within your heart withered just a little more.

So when your contact at the rescue, Takagi, called to book an emergency case, you knew you were in for a long and tough day. It wouldn’t be the first time a rescue took hours before they even looked somewhat presentable. Not counting the time it took for the demon to grow comfortable enough to let you work on them, and a strange gut feeling told you that this rescue might just be one of those cases.

That, or it was the other situation in your belly making you feel iffy.

Despite being five months in, you still had a hard time separating the two.

“Makes me wonder for how much longer I’ll be able to properly do this work.” You mused to no one in particular, only to fill the tense silence before the rescue’s arrival as you arranged all the proper tools you could possibly need. You hoped you could continue to work for a while longer, you were a one-person income after all. And rent didn’t discriminate, pregnant or not.

There were plenty of savings that would keep you going for a while, but the less you had to depend on that, the better. Especially now that your life was going to change drastically in about four months from now, and you needed to be prepared for any unexpected events. There was no saying there wouldn’t be complications, either.

Once all the brushes, scissors and shearing devices were put in place and all shampoo and soap bottles were refilled, you made a small pile of thick towels along with a happy hoodie that was certain to lessen the stress for today’s demon. All the while, you couldn’t help but wonder what demon would walk through the front door of the shop today.

Rescues were often a miserable sight, but you’d be lying if they weren’t a great way to learn and improve your methods. In fact, it was thanks to the collaborative events between you and the local rescue that you’d gotten such a reputable name to begin with.

That, and you were helping the demons as well. Aside from the obvious cleaning, you were also giving them an instance where a human didn’t touch or handle them with a violent touch. Considering most rescues came from abusive or neglected houses, hopefully that small experience would aid them in their first step to trust humans once again. Or for the first time.

Humming, you entered the space where you always bathed, rinsed and showered your demons, placing the bottles of soap and shampoo at a higher ledge to keep them from being launched across your shop thanks to trashing demons that hated to be wet and washed. It wouldn’t be the first time your workshop got coated in bubbles and had you and the demon slipping in all directions.

The demons would be fine. A little spooked, but fine. They were tied to the elastic leash on the wall so they wouldn’t go far, but you still had a sore spot on the back of your head when you once slipped and hit the wall. And that had been over a year ago.

You peeked at the wall clock while rinsing your hands by the large sink. The numbers showed 10:45, meaning that the appointment would be in about fifteen minutes. That is, if it were a normal client.

If there was something you’d come to learn the past years, it was that Takagi, your contact over at the local rescue loved being way on time. That meant that any moment now he would–

The faint noise of a car pulling up resounded outside your shop, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Ah, way too early. Just as expected.”

The opening of a car door and closing followed in their wake, and footsteps approached as the obscured window revealed two shadowy silhouettes at the front door.

The doorbell jingled reassuringly and you quickly snatched your apron bearing your shop’s logo – a cute illustration of a generic demon sitting in a bubbly bathtub– threw it on and approached the shop entrance.

You had hardly unlocked the door before an eager “Gooood morning, (Name)!” boomed in your face, accompanied with a flashy grin from the tall man. “We’re not late, are we?”

“Absolutely not.” You chuckled, already unable to resist the contagious eagerness of the older man. “Good morning, Takagi. Are you certain you don’t just want to plan the appointment 15 minutes earlier than usual instead?”

“If that suits you better,” He said casually, knowing that you were just messing with him. “but I fear I’ll just end up arriving early either way. That’s just in my nature, you know?”

Takagi was one of the older employees at the local rescue, and your official contact there. Whenever there was a demon that needed to be brought over to your salon, he was always the one responsible for arranging it. Ironically enough, you had known the man for much longer than you had the shop, for he was an old friend of your mother. As such, he was a trusted family friend, even if your only contact were these visits that happened a couple times a month.

And your mother never admitted to the claim… but it was very likely that she had recommended your shop to the man, thus marking the beginning of your good relationship with the local rescue and boosting your reputation in one fortunate move.

Though, because of an injury that happened on the job where a terrified demon had lashed out and caught him by surprise, Takagi had been unfortunately incapacitated for four whole months, and today was actually the first time you both saw each other again in quite a while.

Takagi quickly studied you. “Ah but what am I saying? First and foremost (Name), I believe congratulations are in order!”

He of course, meant the evident bump you lugged around every day, and you nodded with the biggest grin plastered onto your face. No matter how many people congratulated you, it felt just as wonderful as the first. Even if you were starting to run out of interesting responses other than: “Yes, thank you!”

“How far along are you?” He almost seemed as joyous as you, and you knew from experience that he was genuinely happy.

“Five months now,” Your hands rested instinctively on your small bump protruding slightly from underneath your apron. “The baby is healthy and growing well, and I’m heading in for another ultrasound in two weeks.” You heaved a sigh. “I keep thinking I’m used to it, but I can’t help but feel anxious with each visit.”

His dark bushy brows shot up. “Well, of course! It does concern the health of your little one, and as a parent you want nothing more for them to be safe. It’s fine to feel nervous – in fact, I think I’d judge you more if you weren’t.”

You blinked at him, surprised that you hadn’t thought of it that way yourself. Before you could say anything in return, however, his bright and eager gaze took a sharper edge to it. “That said… I heard what happened with your partner. Are you doing ok?”

As much as your pregnancy delighted and made you eager to be a mother – the overwhelming shadow that your former partner, the father, had left behind unfortunately haunted your every step, and you feared this question was coming.

Especially since you’d lived pretty much in a mental haze ever since it happened. If anything the responsibility of the shop kept you going, gave you a daily purpose rather than rotting in your own misfortune and potential horrors.

“It’s… better this way.” Truth was, you really didn’t want to talk about him. To grant him any more attention than his actions already demanded. If you had to convince yourself to believe you and your child would be better off without him even if it was a downright lie, then you would cling onto that lie with all your might until it turned out to be real.

Suddenly feeling very self aware, you shyly lowered your gaze downward, only for it to land on the silhouette kneeling behind the man – the demon he brought along. With Takagi’s chatter and sudden questions, you’d been distracted from the demon’s presence. The fact that it was frozen in place without making the slightest noise certainly helped to remain unnoticed.

The smallest hint of the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen peeked at you between large, thick clumps of dark hair, and for a passing second you found yourself strangely entranced – as if you witnessed a beautiful, fleeting moment.

The moment that defined whether a demon tolerated your presence, based on their first instinctual impressions. An instinct that abused and neglected demons took as reality, often influenced by the events of their past, and one where you had to tread carefully.

But the moment was fleeting, because what your gaze focused on next took your breath away, and you could swear your heart dropped straight through your big pregnant gut, and right into your bloated feet.

All you could see was just a gigantic pile of neglected, overgrown, uncared and matted dark hair. In the way the demon was leaning back on their haunches, kneeling down to the ground, the hair literally covered them from head to toe. Only the slightest glimpse of their face occasionally managed to peek through the clumps of thick filthy hair.

You immediately recognized the first signs of the demon’s neglect. Their hair hadn’t been cut for the longest of time, or in the worst case scenario – ever.

Whoever previously owned them clearly never bothered to brush, take care or send them to a groomer. You felt like you were staring straight at a bunch of bird nests somehow mushed together into one chaotic structure. You could hardly see their actual face, and you cringed visibly as you caught a whiff of the downright putrid smell that reeked off of them.

Adding onto your mental list, you began to doubt whether or not they ever got a bath either. And that was just from what you could see with a quick glance. There was no saying what you would encounter once you got to work on them. God, the poor, poor thing.

You had to get to work.

“But please, come in. And I’ll get you two settled.” You stepped back to allow the man and demon to enter. Suddenly very motivated to start and try to lessen this demon’s predicament rather than dwell on what happened to you in the past.

“Don’t mind if we do! I must mention though, I cannot stay for long.” Catching the hint, no further questions regarding your former partner’s dubious actions were thrown in your way, and Takagi entered the shop with the demon cautiously in tow.

Once inside, the demon immediately retreated behind the man’s legs. The hair covered head moved a bit, and you realized the demon was checking out the new room he found himself in. All the different scents must make him anxious. If he could even smell anything properly with that wall of crusty hair obscuring his senses.

Takagi smiled tenderly down at the demon and then back to you. “Dear (Name), this is one of our newly rescued demons. He’s very shy and anxious, but thus far he’s been nothing but a gentle demon.” He gestured at the creature, and upon feeling both your direct gazes on him, he ducked inward a bit more.

“What’s their name?” You ask quietly, not wanting to spook or intimidate the poor thing any more than it already was in this new, daunting environment.

“His name is Aizetsu…. I think.” He chuckled a tad awkwardly. “This one was rescued along with three others, and one of them felt open enough to share their names to us, and… nothing else. Upon asked, they don’t want to say which name belongs to which demon, so we’re kinda still in the process of figuring out who is who.” He shrugged casually. “But this one responded to Aizetsu, so we assume that’s his name. But we don’t know much about him aside from the fact that he’s male.”

You nodded and peeked back at the demon hiding behind him. “So, what do I need to know about Aizetsu’s behavior before I start preparing him?”

“You probably noticed just by looking at him, but we found him and his three brothers in a severely neglected state.” Takagi began, the former pleasantness draining his features into something more sharp. “We don’t know all the details regarding their former owner, because it’s actually the police that found out about their existence. Supposedly they were there to arrest the owner on some pretty severe charges. None of those charges had anything to do with neglecting demons, unfortunately.”

No, of course they weren’t. As much as you and Takagi tried your hardest to improve demon lives, most of society really only saw them as exotic pets with no rights. Meaning that there were no rules set in place that would punish abusive behavior or other forms of mistreatment, and that people usually weren’t punished for it.

“They investigated the rest of the house, and found these four in separate rooms in the basement in just… awful, awful conditions.”

Your stomach churned, and yet some terrible curiosity needed to know to sympathize. “Meaning…?”

He scrunched his nose and shook his head. “Just the worst neglect someone could imagine. You’re really better off not knowing the details, (Name). Me and the others at the rescue having seen it is more than enough.”

Your gaze went back on the trembling demon; your heart aching in sympathy as well as disgust. You wondered what was going through the demon’s head right now, as the two of you discussed details of his former life.

“So, when they found the neglected demons in dire need of help, and cops being cops, they wanted to put a bullet through their heads. Probably to project the blame onto their owner so they could forge an even bigger record on the man.”

Your hands cupped your mouth in horror. “No! But then, how did they…?”

“Fortunately there was a female officer with them that’s worked with us before, and she ended up having to beg them to allow her to call our local rescue.” Takagi heaved a deep sigh. “Even then, for us to be allowed to go there, we had to reassure them that they would never hear about the demons and their own involvement ever again. Not from others, not from the news. For all we know, these demons were simply dropped on our front porch by some random stranger.”

“Did they seriously threaten you?” One could argue the fact he was telling you of this right now rather than keeping it quiet, but he was a man of honesty, and you were certain he provided you the truth because he really wanted people to understand what the demon went through. He was that committed to helping them.

“It’s all in a day of our work, (Name). Once the cops finished flashing their authority, we went in there to capture them.” He glanced down at the demon behind him. “This guy was the first and easiest to catch. Poor thing was so immobilized by fear that my colleague went into his room and just scooped him right out. The other three though?”

He whistled, and the demon behind him startled at the high-pitched noise. To which he flashed him an apologetic smile. “They gave the crew the workout of their lives. It took us truly five hours before we finally managed to catch and drag out the last one, but it was worth every single moment of it…”

“Aizetsu and his siblings have been with us for a few days now, and we allowed them time to realize and understand that their living quarters have changed, and have been feeding and looking after them gradually to try and get them get used to human contact.”

Your brows raised curiously. “And how’s that been going for you?”

Takagi loosed out a troubled breath. “Let’s say we have varying degrees of progress on the four. Aizetsu here has made the most progress because he tolerates being touched.” Takagi sucked in a breath. “Then again, even though he does, he also shows hardly any response to it, so that’s a bit of a concern. We think he might be too scared to have a reaction, unlike two of his brothers.”

Curiosity got the best of you, and that’s where you made a mistake: “Will they be up for adoption, too?”

You only realized your mistake once Takagi’s eyes suddenly flashed with mischief. “Once they pass every test, they eventually will. I have my concerns about the angriest one, but I won’t stop until he shows even the slightest hint of warming up to someone.” His eyes narrowed cheekily at you, and you knew exactly what he was going to say next.

“Why? Have we finally reached the point in time where you’re thinking about adopting one of your own?”

As was evident with your many past encounters, Takagi never allowed the opportunity to ask slip through his fingers. Back in the day, he was so shocked to find out that despite being someone who was very experienced handling demons, and bearing a similar passion and love for their wellbeing as he did – you didn’t have a demon yourself.

There were a handful of reasons for this, which you’d made very clear to the man whenever he returned to the subject. Your excuses usually ranged from: I’m just too busy to properly take care of one. To the more reasonable: My house is rather small, and I don’t think I can offer them a home they would thrive in.

Seeing right through you, his brow always raised as if to say really? Those reasons wouldn’t have stopped anyone else from adopting one, and a lot of them were far from as qualified as owning one than you did. You knew that if a demon somehow ended up in your care, you would do your utmost best to give him the best life and home the demon could wish for.

Still, you’d been set on your decision for the past years since you started this work. You weren’t entirely sure why you kept making excuses, but somewhere along the line you’d started to believe them.

Maybe it was so you wouldn’t have to think any further about the true reason, which had nothing to do with you in the first place. And now that Takagi was asking you about it once again… you were feeling tempted to spill it to him, knowing there was nothing left to pretend.

But you caught yourself before you could give into the sweet temptation of spite, knowing it added absolutely nothing worthwhile. If anything, it would most likely sour part of your day as well as Takagi’s…

And again, you had to remind yourself that you didn’t want to give the source of said reason any more thought and attention than he already demanded on a daily basis.

“You’ll never cease trying to pair me with one of your rescues, won’t you?” A soft laugh passed your lips, knowing that he really only did because he was convinced it would only add more to your life, and he really wanted that happiness for you. “I hate to disappoint you, but my reasons haven’t changed. In fact, in about four months from now I’ll even have less time to spend on a demon than I do now.”

“So you think!” He countered enthusiastically, jabbing a finger up in the air. “But I’d argue that adopting a more gentle and patient demon into the household is very beneficial with a little one around. Especially now that your partner isn’t around anymore, and combined with your grooming salon a demon could potentially help you to relieve the pressure put on you.”

You shot him a look. “Adopting a demon to take over my chores isn’t really a prime reason why I’d reconsider getting one, Takagi.” The last thing you wanted to do was turn a creature like that into a servant of sorts.

He shook his head, intent on getting his message across. “No no, you’re misunderstanding. Of course they could help in the household, but I’m just saying. It’s tough being a single mother with a newborn and a job that demands a lot of you. There are demons specifically bred and trained to be gentle and, uh, perhaps important for your particular situation – protective of their owners and their children.”

The latter part had you looking up with a snap – so taken back by what he was implying – that you actually glared at the man for a passing heartbeat before catching yourself. But not before you saw the realization settle on your friend’s face.

A sudden chill had taken to your skin and blood, causing your very core to tremble.

Looks like Tagaki knew more of the finer details of your recently changed situation than he initially let on.

You blinked nervously. “Mom told you?”

The man slowly nodded, his features stark.

“How much did she tell you?” You tried, urging the frustration heating your blood to simmer back down. You hated it when your mother decided to share private things when you clearly asked her not to do so, everything was already complicated enough, and the last thing you wanted was others to try and butt into what you should do.

“Enough for me to know you need protection.” He provided, his gaze stern yet concerned.

A growing pressure of panic threatened to squeeze your throat as you scrambled for excuses to cut this topic short. “The police have everything under control, so that won’t be necessary.”

“I’m just saying,” Tagaki said carefully, choosing his words. “A demon could keep you safe from someone like him. From what your mother told me, it appears you’re under a great ordeal of stress, and that’s not good for you nor the little one you’re carrying around.”

Clenching your jaw to keep yourself from snapping at the man, you honestly didn’t know why his concern for your well being felt like such a stab to your back. Not to mention your mother for just blabbering about this so openly to random people. What if word of his actions leaked out and somehow reached him? What would happen then?

Your gaze landed on the clock, where the numbers marked 10:59. It was time to get to work; you had to do what you were meant to do today – your escape.

You took a breath to calm your rising anxiety, turning back to Tagaki. “If… it gets out of hand, I’ll let you know.” It was the most basic answer you could give without outright telling him you would consider adopting a demon, but truly, you had no other idea how to get him to stop discussing this topic. “Alright?”

Because he meant well, he really did. Even if your fight and flight instinct was urging the opposite, and that wasn’t any of his fault.

Tagaki must’ve caught the glimpse within your gaze that you were simply not up for discussing this, and nodded. “I told your mother the same thing, if there’s ever anything you need; you can always contact me. I might not always be able to help with everything, but I’m sure we can find a solution together with the three of us.”

“Thank you,” And you meant it. “But the last thing I want to do right now is stress myself even further by thinking about him unless I have to.”

Tagaki’s eyes hardened just ever so slightly, not satisfied with your answer even though he seemed content to drop the matter for now. “Understandable.”

All the while, the demon just sat behind the man. Quietly and observing the shop he currently found himself in; showing no interest whatsoever in the topic or conversation you found yourselves in.

“How about we get Aizetsu here settled first and foremost? I really want to cut some of that heavy hair of his, as it must be very uncomfortable for him.” You suggested instead, eager to work and have something else to focus on.

Having to look at the severely neglected demon hiding away behind Tagaki made you restless to get to work. The less longer the demon was forced to endure the results of his neglect, the better. This demon clearly needed your help, and soon.

“Ah sorry about that, (Name), and here I said I didn’t have a lot of time to stay and I just go on blabbering like that.” He chuckled sincerely and looked down at the demon behind him, taking a step to the side.

Almost instantly, the demon tried to inch back behind him, but Takagi outstretched his arm so the leash, which he held rather short, wouldn’t reach far enough for the demon to do so. The demon’s movements were slow and lazy, but when he hitched on the leash, he tried again, and again. Seemingly getting more restless with each attempt.

“No, Aizetsu.” He corrected firmly, but not harshly. “Today we’re going to do something a little different. Remember what I told you before we left this morning?”

You observed, feeling somewhat tense in having to witness this exchange. As expected however, the demon said nothing in return, but he did cease his attempts to hide behind him. Though you suspected it was more because of his fear for punishment rather than actual obedience.

“Today we’re visiting (Name). She’s a very kind woman who’s going to keep you in her salon for a few hours so she can get you thoroughly cleaned and washed.” The demon cautiously tilted his head at the man once it was mentioned he had to stay here. “It might be a little uncomfortable and scary at first, but I want you to behave and listen to everything she says, ok?”

It might’ve been spoken as a request, but you saw it for what it truly was. An order, a command for the timid demon to follow. An establishment of responsibility and leadership was what most demons needed to be made clear, especially if – in this case – the current caretaker was leaving the demon in someone else’s hands. Aizetsu needed to be made clear that he needed to listen to you and your instructions once Takagi left the salon to deal with other matters.

A simple concept on the surface, but for a demon that had been neglected or abused, having known nothing but dubious relationships with humans – this was like asking him to shift its entire understanding of reality, and to put themselves in a highly vulnerable position. After all, they didn’t know you. How could they possibly know what you were going to do with them?

Most rescues you’d groomed here at the salon had been terrified of you, because they were expecting you to act exactly like people had done in the past. They had no reason to trust you, no matter how much Takagi reassured and explained the process to them.

Expecting no answer from said demon, Takagi turned back to you. “I tested Aizetsu in a couple of social exercises back at the rescue center. So far, he’s not lashed out or snapped at anyone yet. But if you feel like he might be inclined to do so, please don’t hesitate to muzzle him for your safety.”

You hummed a nod, making a mental reminder of the demon having passed some social exercises so far. Which was a good sign, as you remembered past demon clients that desperately needed muzzles to keep yourself safe. You always tried your best to get demons through it without stressing them out too much, but sometimes you were left with no other choice. “Understood. Are there any triggers that I should keep in mind with Aizetsu?”

“He seems easily spooked by sudden loud noises, from what I’ve gathered in the few days we’ve had him around.” He pondered some more. “Same goes for unexpected touches, I like to think it helps if you announce what you’re going to do. That way you won’t take him by surprise.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Judging from that, Aizetsu wasn’t going to like the water hose and the blow dryers once he’d been bathed. Which could complicate matters, but it would far from be the only time that you handled a demon scared for those very same things.

“I think he likes it when you talk to him too. Calm and quietly.” Takagi remarked. “He shrinks away when someone snaps at him.”

So a lot of calm talking, instructions and gentle touches. Got it. It was enough knowledge for you to start working on him, and you would undoubtedly come to discover new traits and things the rescued demon hadn’t expressed at the rescue center.

“Anything else you think I should know before I get to work?” You asked.

“Aside from the fact that he’s male, quiet, scared and timid – no, I don’t think so. Because frankly that’s all we know at the center. Oh, and if you discover anything else about him, or if something’s up, please don’t hesitate to message me. I’ve got my phone on me 24/7, so I’ll be guaranteed to see your message shortly.” His gaze narrowed at you. “If you feel like you can’t get the job done because of your precious cargo, you also tell me, ok?”

It was obvious that he, and everyone else that doubted your capabilities due to your pregnancy only voiced their concerns because they were worried for you and your infant. But you would be lying if it wasn’t starting to get to you, especially since you were still working and dealing with your client just fine without any incidents.

You reined in the annoyance. It was probably your anxieties and hormones speaking, but sometimes it felt like people were infantilizing you.

“I’m pregnant, not enfeebled.” You teased, laughing. “Don’t worry. I think I’ll manage, but if something’s up, I’ll call you.”

He gave you a knowing look, but allowed the matter to rest. “I’ll leave you to your work, then.” He offered you the leash and you took it without hesitation, wrapping the end tightly around your hand. While you didn’t want to show dominance explicitly, it was the way to get nervous and tense demons to understand the dynamic between you. Small gestures like those were required, whether you liked it or not. You were here to help them, not to suit your own needs and convictions.

The gesture didn’t escape Takagi, and a certain tension lifted from his features. He turned to the demon once again. “Aizetsu, I’ll be leaving you with (Name) now. While you’re getting your salon treatment, I have to get your three brothers to the groomers as well.”

At the mention of his siblings, the demon perked up; a soft noise escaping him as the tension seemed to leave him for a split second. For a moment you thought he was going to speak, to ask anything about his siblings, but he remained in the same silence as before, and Takagi smiled down at him. “Now, you behave and listen to (Name), got it? She’s going to take good care of you. I’ll pick you back up as soon as she’s finished.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the praise, feeling somewhat relieved that he was only dropping one of the four demons in your salon. From the small snippets of information Tagaki shared, Aizetsu’s other siblings seemed much more energetic, and there were only so many rescues you could put up with before needing some normal clients again.

Bathing, washing and taking care of Aizetsu, a clearly anxious demon, would be more than enough for you today.

You allowed your gaze to wander down at the cowering demon, who must’ve felt your eyes on him and timidly turned to you, before peeking back at his current caregiver. As if he wasn’t sure who to listen to, and a clear sign that Takagi needed to get his butt out of here already to avoid further confusion for the already nervous demon.

Understanding the hint, Takagi determinedly strode to the door. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours, Aizetsu. So make sure to behave until then.” With one final wave, he exited the salon. Promptly followed with the sound of his departing vehicle.

An anxious whine left Aizetsu’s throat the instant Takagi disappeared from his sight, and he couldn’t stop looking at the door. Confirming exactly what you’d feared for. The man had stayed around for too long in this new and scary environment for the demon, and now the only person he was even a little familiar with had left him here with a complete stranger, you.

“Don’t you worry, he will be back soon enough.” You lowered yourself to his level, making certain you intercepted his line of sight and smiled. “How about we get you settled and prepared, Aizetsu?”

You didn’t wait for a reply, knowing you wouldn’t get one as he was figuring things out. You got back up on your feet and gently tugged on the leash a couple of times to have him follow you to the bathing area.

It took a little bit of prompting, but he eventually gave in and removed his sights from the door and followed you. All the while, you decided to talk to him to keep his thoughts from straying away to other matters and instead focus on you.

“First of all, I want to welcome you to my salon, Aizetsu. I’m (Name), and in my daily life I work as a demon groomer. Meaning that I work on making demons as clean and presentable as possible, and that’s exactly what we’ll be doing today. If you don’t mind me saying, you look like you desperately need a good washing and a nice haircut.”

He definitely needed way more, but the last thing you wanted was to overwhelm the demon with phrases he probably didn’t even know. As neglected as he was, he probably never had any of these things before.

No answer or sound came from the demon except his soft footsteps behind you. It was relieving to hear that he was actually following you. So far he was taking Takagi’s command to heart.

You then stopped, and the demon followed your example almost instantly. “Before we continue, I want to make you feel as comfortable as possible around here. You haven’t shown any signs of wanting to run away, and as such, I want to try and take your leash off.” You raised a brow at the demon, still clueless whether or not he could actually see you through that mountain of tangled and matted hair descending most of his body.

“But in order to do that, I’m gonna need you to listen to everything I say. Do you think you think you can do that? Otherwise we can leave it on, should you feel more at ease like that.”

The latter was definitely a possibility, especially for anxious demons. Sometimes the promise of freedom came with too much responsibility, and spooked them in the process.

At the mention of having his leash taken off, Aizetsu’s head jerked up and he slowly looked around the salon. As if he were deciding whether or not the area and person he found himself with was safe enough to be ok with such a thing. Nobody had ever asked him something like that – or asked him his opinion on anything, for that matter.

He was cowering so lowly, and taking so long that you were about to conclude that he wanted to keep it on. Either option was fine for you, though.

“…. take…. it….”

You were about to approach the bath by the wall when the softest noise caught your attention, and you froze. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn the sound was anything but his voice. Like the faint creak of a chair, undoubtedly from lack of use. But you did know better, and after Aizetsu had been wrapped in such silence with Takagi around, you’d almost started to believe that the demon refused to talk out of fear.

“What did you say, Aizetsu?” You gently prompted, a soft smile decorating your lips as you were starting to feel more hopeful for him. “You’ll have to speak up a bit louder, I didn’t quite get that.” You tried.

The shudder of a breath left him as he struggled with the idea that he was asked to speak his actual wants. Even if it was just a mere leash to you, to him it was anything but.

After another passing heartbeat, he tried again. His voice muffled mostly by the wall of thick hair around him. “I-I… I’d like it off.” He repeated louder this time, nearly stumbling over his words. Although it was still rather soft to you, you did manage to catch what he was trying to say. And that’s what mattered.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. If you decide later that you want it back on, just let me know, alright?” You reassured him. “I’m here to look after and take care of you, so if there’s anything you want me to know, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

You were aware this was a near impossible request for a demon pet like him to fulfill, but you laid it out there nonetheless. The more he believed he could trust you, the better. It would make this entire process so much smoother and easier on him.

“I’ll be removing your leash, then.” You informed him, remembering what Takagi had recommended: informing Aizetsu of everything you were going to do, and you assumed this regarded literally every little detail. “You have a lot of long hair though, so I will have to get up in there to do so. It might feel a little weird, but I assure you I won’t hurt you. Is that ok with you?”

The demon said nothing, and instead remained frozen on his spot on the floor. You decided to take his lack of reluctance and resistance as an answer, and slowly dropped down onto your knees while suppressing a groan from the weight of your belly, and extended your hands to the most furious black mane of chaotic hair you’d ever witnessed.

Gently, your fingers pushed aside the black locks for as much as the tangled state of them allowed you to. When he felt you touch his hair, Aizetsu took a sharp inhale and tensed like a brick.

It prompted you to halt. “Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no…” He whined out, and you almost believed he was on the verge of bursting out into tears. The poor thing was most likely expecting your touch to hurt him. Still, his answer was clear.

“Alright. I won’t hurt you, Aizetsu. I promise. I’m just going to remove the leash from your collar.” You kept reminding him as your fingers gently paved a path through his matted dark locks. Somewhere in the back of your head you wondered whether or not he genuinely believed what you were telling him, or was taking your claims as a lie wrapped up in gentleness. It was probably safe to assume the latter. But he favored the leash off so badly that he was willing to put himself through this suffering.

The demon was so tense he was actually trembling, and you were relieved when your fingers at last brushed against the familiar touch of steel at the end of the leash, and swiftly unhooked it from his collar and rolled it up in your hands.

That’s when you noticed how greasy and slick your skin had become just by lightly touching his hair. Not to mention the foul odor that now clung to your hands. Yyou had to try your best not to cringe for his sake.

Good heavens, you’d never seen a demon before that needed a bath and haircut as badly as Aizetsu did. And after four years of cleaning and taking care of rescues, that was saying a lot.

“There we go. The leash is off.” You said, ignoring the scent of death. You were going to add ‘Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ hadn’t the demon looked like he was moments away from passing out from shock; still as tense as a rock and trembling.

It had been a good first exercise to introduce him to non-harmful touching, but you decided it was better to give him a moment to try and recover from being touched by a literal stranger. So instead you approached the bath. “Now, what I’ll do next is run a bath for you, Aizetsu. The water will make a bit of noise and might be a tad unpleasant at first, but I assure you it will not hurt you in any kind of way.”

His steady but loud shudders of breath were the only indicator that he was listening, for they changed their rhythm every time he tried to register what you were telling him. When you turned on the water you spotted him flinching from the corner of your eye, confirming exactly what Takagi had told you about his fear of loud noises. Still, it was necessary for the process so the demon simply had to learn how to deal with it one way or another.

For now, you left the water running while turning to Aizetsu for the next step, and you were very curious how he was going to react to this. “Before we bathe you, I would like you to take off your clothes.”

The sudden request wasn’t enough to shake his tension, but you were pleased to see that his trembling ceased once his attention got shifted. The demon seemed to glance down at himself – at his long sleeved black shirt and matching loose pants, and then back up at you.

“Hmhm, those.” You affirmed, gesturing at the set of clean clothes the rescue center undoubtedly granted him. “It would be a shame if those got all wet and cold. That, and I cannot properly clean you unless you take them off.”

The demon seemed to struggle with what you were asking of him, and you didn’t blame him. Stripping in front of a stranger, especially when you’ve been neglected and abused by people from the same species must be a terribly daunting prospect, but unfortunately there was nothing else you could do to make this process any less vulnerable for him.

For a moment he hardly moved, but you waited patiently. Clearly he was considering his place here and the moments from his past. As well as the order that Takagi had given him to obey everything you asked of him, even if it went against everything his mind and body were screaming at him for the sake of self protection.

But then, slowly but surely – his long sleeves shifted and the hands he’d been hiding inside finally peeked out at the ends. You blinked, surprised to see the darker skin tone of said demon. With all of the chaotic hair you’d barely gotten a true glimpse at the actual demon yet, so to actually see details of him was a pleasant surprise because you were highly curious of what he would look like once you got through all that hair.

His hands looked like the rest of him – not taken care of in the slightest, and at the end of each finger were long, darkened fingernails that had not been clipped in forever.

Aizetsu had pushed his hands out of his sleeves to grab the hem of his shirt, but before he could nervously pull it over his head, you stopped him. “Just a second, Aizetsu. I’m going to get something real quick.”

He flinched and froze upon hearing your sudden command; instantly convinced that he’d done something wrong and upset you, and observed with tension as you pushed yourself up to walk to the back of the room to grab something, before making your way back over and slowly lowered yourself back on the floor. “You have such long nails, I think it would be good if we trimmed them a little bit before we continue.”

“W… why?” Came the muffled question from the thick mane of hair as he held his hands close to his chest, as if you were going to chop them off any moment now.

“They’re very dirty, and I might be mistaken, but I believe they are ragged and cracked at the edges.” You explained calmly, holding the clipper in front of you so he could observe it. “This is a nail clipper, it’s a simple tool to shorten your nails a little bit.”

Aizetsu cowered a little bit, and his trembling increased as he held his hands closer. “Please… don’t take my nails away…”

You shook your head, reminding yourself that despite his vulnerable display, it was important to stay positive and keep a soft smile on your lips to give him the impression it really wasn’t that serious. “I won’t, I’ll only make them a bit shorter. That way they won’t be as easily damaged, and way easier to clean.”

Aizetsu still didn’t look convinced, and you perked up as an idea struck you. “Here, I’ll show you. Look –” You raised your other hand and splayed it open so that he could clearly see your own trimmed nails. “This is what they’ll look like once I’m done.”

You got your answer regarding your earlier question whether or not the demon could actually see, because he quietly observed your raised hand before he dared to lean closer to get a better look. The demon then leaned back, peeking down at his own hands before dragging his gaze back to yours – and repeated that for a couple of times in a clear internal struggle happening inside his head.

He didn’t trust you, that much was clear. But with situations like these, he was starting to doubt his initial reaction because what you showed him made sense. More so than his instinctive responses currently did.

This was going to be a very slow process, you were beginning to realize. But it didn’t matter. This was why you only took one rescue a day and no other clients. Even if it took you all day, you were going to make sure this demon got a proper bath and haircut. You wouldn’t go home achieving anything less if it were up to you.

“Doesn’t look so bad, does it, Aizetsu?” You said, breaking through his pondering. After a heartbeat, he made the faintest shake of his head, and you smiled at his timidness. Lowering your hand between you with palm faced up, you asked; “Will you allow me to trim your nails? I promise I’ll be gentle with them.”

After all, they were very important to demons. Some of them had straight up claws, while others like Aizetsu didn’t. But there was still that sliver of instinct residing in their blood that made them believe they were very important to them, even if modern day demons didn’t hunt like they used to anymore. Without them, they felt like they had one less way of protecting themselves.

Which… was also why you needed them trimmed before you began bathing him. Takagi had advised to muzzle Aizetsu in case he ended up getting snappy to protect you from his large fangs, but demons had more than one way to harm others. Their claws – or nails in Aizetsu’s case – could still easily cut a human’s skin even with the slightest wipe. So for your own safety you always made certain to trim a demon’s claws or nails.

Another defensive tool was a demon’s horns. Fortunately for you, it appeared Aizetsu didn’t have any of those, which meant one less thing to concern yourself about.

After enough coercion, Aizetsu at last relented and tentatively held out his hand. He said nothing, but you could feel his piercing gaze nearly digging holes in your outstretched hand, ready to retreat at the first sign of you doing something he didn’t approve of, so you had to treat carefully. Lest you wished to repeat this entire cycle all over again.

“That’s good, Aizetsu.” You praised quietly as you slowly inched your hand closer to his. “May I take your hand in mine?”

There was another lack of response, but the demon didn’t retreat his hand, so you carefully reached out and took his larger hand into your own – becoming very aware of Aizetsu’s potential real size. He’d been cowering ever since he and Takagi entered the salon, so his full height and size once he stood upright on two legs was still a mystery to you.

“That’s good…” You repeated your praise in hope that would reassure him.

Gently, your fingers enclosed around his hand as you reached forward to begin the process of trimming his very long and filthy nails. You nearly failed to hide your disgust at the neglect this demon must’ve suffered through as a resounding click echoed through the space of the salon as you clipped his index finger, the top of his nail flicking into some random direction.

Aizetsu jolted lightly at the sudden noise, as expected, and you loosened your hold just enough for him to not feel restricted. His gaze focused on his trimmed nail, and much to his surprise he found that it indeed looked quite similar to your own.

It was enough to have him inch his hand closer on his own, and you went to work on his second digit, then the third, the fourth – until the entire hand was finished. All while keeping a watchful eye on his posture and reactions. Just because he was a timid demon that seemed to trust you for now, did not mean he couldn’t lash out unpredictably.

“And now the other hand.” To your surprise he obeyed without nearly any hesitation; replacing his trimmed hand with the other. A smile crept to your lips as you neatly clipped his other nails. There certainly was hope yet for this timid and anxious demon, even if his hand was literally trembling within your grasp.

“Aaaand all done. You did really well, Aizetsu.” You released his hand and watched how he observed it quietly; rubbing the pad of his thumb along the edges of his trimmed nails in an almost entranced motion. This really must’ve been the first time anyone ever trimmed his nails.

“That looks so much better.” Feeling a surge of satisfaction, you put the nail clipper to the side for now. You doubted the nails on his feet looked anything better, and in a perfect scenario you would trim those right after – but just like with their hands, demons were very protective of their feet as well. Since you were already asking so much from the anxious demon, you decided to wait with that after you bathed him and cut his hair.

Speaking of which… you suddenly found yourself conflicted as you observed the demon. He really was almost entirely covered with his long hair, and the state of it was just downright terrible. To have hair that was as tangled and matted as his must be really painful for the demon’s scalp… so much that you were actually considering already cutting pieces off before you even decided to bathe and wash him.

“Your hair must be so heavy and painful, with all those matted locks tugging against your scalp…”

You hadn’t realized you’d spoken that part out loud until Aizetsu turned his focus back to you. He briefly fidgeted with his fingers. “It does hurt.” His quiet voice broke the silence.

Your heart trembled in sympathy for the poor demon, and you swallowed against the sudden block lodged in your throat. To have him affirm your suspicions only made you feel worse, but most of all angry at the person responsible. “I’m considering cutting off some big chunks of your hair before I decide to bathe you. Would you like that?”

“Yes…” He responded almost instantly, confirming that the matter of his hair was a priority for the demon, and you felt bad for making him endure the nail clipping before even prioritizing the biggest problem in the room. You’d done so to keep yourself safe while working on him, but still.

“I will have to get close to you. Kinda like before when I detached the leash from your collar.” To emphasize the meaning, you tentatively shuffled closer, watching the demon’s posture carefully as he watched you. With his hands balled in the fabric of his pants, his body was as rigid as a rock, but aside from that you still sensed no sign of hostility from the demon.

“Rinsing your head like it is now, the weight of your hair will be immense, and I don’t want to potentially hurt you.” You explained slowly as you reached down your apron and pulled out one of your scissors from one of the small pockets and held the tool in front of him. He stared at it for a passing second before slightly leaning forward, maybe smelling it. “This is what I’ll use to cut your hair.”

The only response was a deep, shuddering sigh.

You had no clue whether your current scissors were sharp enough to cut hair of such bad quality, but you would try. You knelt down next to him and reached over him to grab locks of his dark, thick hair. Cutting off excess and terribly matted and tangled pieces that you could reach easily. All the while, Aizetsu endured the start of the haircut with the stiffness of a plank. The fierce grip he had on his pants causing his knuckles to pale.

He hated this. His previous owner hardly ever approached him and his brothers. Touches equaled pain, that’s simply how it had always been like in that basement, and If it wasn’t him who bore the front of it, it was certainly one of his brothers in the other rooms.

And while Aizetsu initially didn’t sense any hint of hostility from you, he just couldn’t let his guard down. No matter how kind you acted, you were still a total stranger. Every time you mentioned getting close, all he could see before his obscured eyes was a vague shadow looming over him, and he instinctively tensed up; preparing for a sudden blow to the head, to the hands, legs, or any other vulnerable spot.

Hearing the sound of snapping scissors, along with the ghost-like caress of your fingers through his hair made him want to rip himself away and hide somewhere until Takagi returned to pick him up. Only problem being, if he did, Aizetsu would be in big trouble, he just knew it. Everything he did could potentially be punishable. Even answering your questions felt like treading into dangerous territory, and yet refusing to answer wasn’t an option either because he’d be defying you, and that was a certified way to get punished.

Either way, he was going through hell. He was almost starting to long to be back in that dark basement. The lack of attention and the few unexpected touches his previous owner gave him were so much better than being approached and touched this much by you and the other rescue workers all so suddenly.

At least in that dark house he knew his brothers were nearby somewhere. Aizetsu hadn’t even seen them ever since he got taken from the house, and he missed them dearly. Scenarios of what happened to them constantly haunted him. Takagi did mention that he was bringing them to grooming salons as well, but somehow the meaning of that passed him by in his constant panic. He couldn’t do anything but worry for their wellbeing.

With each snip, large locks of thick hair dropped to the floor around him, and Aizetsu decided to start counting how many pieces you cut off. Anything to try to get his heart to stop bursting out of his chest from panic and stress of what his future could possibly bring.

Because so far it was only getting worse and worse since he’d been separated from his brothers...

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt6

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: okay so the draft did not save itself that's why i made a quick edit and just post this one. I hope you enjoy this

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods

2010, Interlagos

"Honey we have to stop meeting like this" Jenson grins as he opens his hotel room.

Y/N immediately wrapped her arms around the British driver. Media be damned but she was extremely worried about Jenson when she heard what happened. She couldn't stop messaging people to ask him if he was okay or what. Even Mark has been worried when she told him what happened.

"Are you okay? You aren't hurt or anything?" Y/N asked worriedly.

"I'm alive and well"Jenson said, closing the door "maybe a little bruised ego from not being able to compete for the championship"

"Oh championship be damned Jense, you almost got kidnapped"Y/N exclaimed

Jenson could only chuckle. He admits he was a bit spooked by what happened but it is what it is. However, he was extremely grateful that Y/N has been worried enough to check up on him and assures that he is okay.

"Just join me for a little drink and lets talk about our day"Jenson suggested "Wine, beer, whiskey?"

"Beer would be fine" Y/N answered.

For all the times that Jenson have gone drinking with Y/N, he knows that her preference was more on wine. He could never forget it because who else than Y/N orders a wine on a bar or a nightclub.

"Tough day?" Jenson wondered

"Not as bad as being kidnapped" Y/N drinks up.

"Touché"

The two friends conversed for the night. Jenson opened up how it felt for him that he isn't able to extend his championship streak. He was not at all disappointed because he performed well and he just missed it out with this race. Y/N is a good listener and became a good support for Jenson.

"What about you? You are in for the big race on Abu Dhabi"Jenson diverted the attention to the female Webber "The big question is who are you supporting"

"I'm neutral"

Jenson looked at her as if she grew two heads. He shook his head as he took a sip of his beer.

"Oh c'mon your brother might win and you are still neutral about it?" Jenson questioned

"Well if you must know my bestfriend is also competing, Lewis is also competing and Fernando is also there" Y/N stated

Jenson raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He is not blind and he does not fall for the lies that Y/N is not choosing a side because she is friends with everyone competing. Y/N refuses to take a side because of the 'bestfriend.'

"You know its going to be historic, four drivers vying for a championship" Jenson informs "I think this is the first time that this happened"

"A lot of pressure for those wanting to win" Y/N agrees.

"You are feeling it all Y/N?" Jenson asked.

Y/N could just give out a sigh as a response. She knows that she won't be sleeping well with the whole thing happening. Its bound to happen that someone will not be fast enough and lose. Then there is also the possibility that someone will win the race and be crowned as champion.

With everything down the wire, no one could predict what will happen.

"You have to make a choice you know" Jenson reminded "What if Mark wins, what if Sebastian wins?"

"We can't have them both as world champions?" Y/N joked

"Maybe for different seasons"Jenson offered.

It was impossible for either of the driver to secure that. Given how the things are in Red Bull. They will favor whoever brings them the first championship and then place the other as their second driver.

"Y/N its just going to be much more difficult after this"Jenson straightforwardness sobered Y/N up a little "You have to stay strong and pick a side"

"I don't want to pick a side Jense, they both deserve a championship"Y/N stays firm "They are both incredible and fantastic drivers. If one of them wins, I'll be happy but I know my heart also aches for the one who misses out that championship"

This was the thing that Jenson admired about Y/N. She is supportive and loyal like that, its quite rare in the field. He gave her a comforting hug as they continue drinking their woes away.

2010, Yas Marina

It was early morning of the qualifying day when Y/N received the email. She was very much surprised upon receiving the email because she had to blink a couple of times to make sure that she is reading it correctly.

From: McLaren Racing

Subject: Job vacancy.

"Oh I am so gonna kill you for this Jense"Y/N muttered.

One of the discussions during their drunk night in Brazil was that the possible solution to Y/N's problem is moving teams. Jenson suggested that there might be some vacant jobs in McLaren before the winter season begins.

And now this conveniently timed email that Y/N has been highly recommended by several employees for the position of Press Officer makes one think that Jenson took that advice seriously.

"Are you decent?" couple of knocks interrupted her "Can I come in?"

"Come on in Mark"

Mark has two cups of coffee in hand. He was already dressed and ready for his paddock appearance. Y/N could just chuckle at the role reversal because usually she was the one who is already dressed while Mark is the one begging for five more minutes to prepare.

"One brown sugar shaken espresso with 3 pumps of toffee nuts"Mark recited proudly.

"You remembered?"

Y/N was in glee as she takes in the cup of coffee. It was a kind of morning that really needs a coffee to help her throughout the day.

"No one drinks coffee as sugary like that, only you" Mark snickers.

"I just like my coffee sweet"Y/N defends.

Mark ends up sitting at one of the chairs. Y/N could read how his expression is a mix of confidence but deep down there is some kind of worry that he is trying to hide. It must be the championship nerves getting the best of him.

"You nervous?"Y/N asked her older brother.

"Its my only chance for a championship. It feels different" Mark answered.

Y/N wanted to say that its not true and there will be plenty of more chances in the start of a new season. However,she knew that this is the closest shot that Mark has to the championship ever since he entered Formula 1.

"I spoke to Sebastian last night" Mark brought it up.

The younger Webber immediately looked up with wide eyes. She knew that the two haven't been in speaking terms except when they have to or forced to talk with each other.

"We talked about you" Mark expanded.

"Me? Why am I even brought up into the conversation?"she was confused.

"Same question but it was Sebastian that first approached me" Mark explained "He talked about how win or lose, we should not put you into a bad spot because you are both important to us"

There Sebastian goes again making her heart skip a beat. Its these little things that mainly causes her to feel deeper and deeper for the German driver. Y/N felt really touched that despite the intense rivalry, he still cares.

"And I know I thought about it all night how I'm really making things difficult for you. So thanks for sticking up with me and I'll try to be much more easier to handle" Mark concludes.

"Oh brother" was all Y/N could say before hugging him.

It felt nice for the both of them that they have each other in the sports. Its the same reason why Y/N cannot answer the offer of Jenson to move into McLaren. If she leaves then how could she be there for her brother?

"Seb really cares a lot about you"Mark informs.

"He is just being a good....bestfriend" Y/N rebutted but she seems unconvinced with her own answer.

Mark knew that Sebastian has a big sense of pride. But whenever, Y/N comes to the picture then he will immediately melt. Mark could only chuckle because Y/N has no clue of the chokehold he has over Sebastian.

"Oh I think you are thinking too little about yourself"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Y/N wondered

It was not Mark's business to play cupid. If Sebastian had the balls then he would have asked her without his help. He just gave a grin as he exited the room.

"Don't be late"Mark teased

"MARK WHAT DOES IT MEAN?"

Meanwhile, Sebastian is early to arrive at the paddock to avoid the media asking plenty of questions. He wanted to be stress-free today since he needs to put all his focus to this race because this is his chance to win the championship. He will be damned if he lets this slip by.

At the moment, he is sitting at the cafeteria which seems to be deserted by the crowd. He was enjoying his peaceful breakfast when a man in orange sat next to him.

"How are you feeling buddy?" Jenson asked too energetically for Sebastian's opinion.

"For a man no longer fighting for the championship, you seem more excited than me" Sebastian joked.

"Oh don't tell me you are nervous" Jenson teased "The Sebastian Vettel is nervous?"

Sebastian rarely gets nervous but this is one of those instances that he really feels the nerves getting the best of him. He finds it really out of his character. There is this heavy feeling in his chest that he may emerge victorious or a complete failure after this race.

"Don't tell anyone but you have my vote of confidence" Jenson whispered.

It was a bit of a boost to hear it from the 2009 World Champion, Sebastian gave him a quick hug which Jenson accepts. It was due to this closeness that Jenson noticed the silver necklace hanging on his neck.

A mischievous grin replaced Jenson's face as he knows there was only one person in this paddock that has that necklace.

"That's Y/N, isn't it?" Jenson snickers.

Just like that, the feeling of embarrassment spread in Sebastian's face. He was not embarrassed by the gift but rather he feels a little shy about anyone seeing his little lucky charm. He tucks it inside safely inside of his shirt.

"It is" Sebastian answered,playing it cool "How did you know?"

Knowing the dating history of Y/N and Jenson, he can feel a little green monster forming at his shoulders. Jenson must have been well-acquainted with Y/N that he paid close attention to notice details such as her necklace.

"Mate, when are you going to ask her out? It's been ages" Jenson asked.

"Excuse me?"

Sebastian was not expecting that. He immediately downed a water to hide his surprise.

"Don't tell me you still haven't made a move even after everything?"Jenson asked.

Jenson knew that Sebastian was someone very dear to Y/N. He had spent enough time with Y/N o figure out that its always the Webber family, Sebastian Vettel, Red Bull, then everyone else. That was how the list of priority of Y/N goes.

"She doesn't like me like that" Sebastian lies even though everything from that drunk confession still replays in Sebastian's head.

"You know what, if you win the championship then go and ask her out" Jenson challenged.

"Now you are putting even more pressure on me"

"C'mon now!" Jenson was exasperated "I'm not even accepting any cash prizes, just name your first child after me for being a good wingman"

"I'm gonna ignore you now Button" Sebastian's nonchalantly ended the conversation.

"Sebastian you can win the championship and the girl!" Jenson convincingly shouts.

Sebastian just gives him a shrug as he continues to eat. He smiles at the thought that maybe he will try Jenson's advice.

Victorious Vettel and a missing team mate.

Congratulations to the amazing drive of Sebastian Vettel which made him victorious from the four-way championship. He also boast two records with one being the youngest WDC champion and the other being Red Bull's first driver champion.

While celebrations are happening, it was evident that there was the absence of the Webber siblings. Mark Webber was seen congratulating Vettel the minute that they stepped out of the car. However, Mark wasn't seen after that and even in the parties. Also absent was Y/N Webber, dubbed as Sebastian's bestfriend. She was spotted in the Red Bull garage but she was absent as well during the celebrations.

Is there trouble brewing with the Webbers against the new world champion?

Seb: Hey, where are you? I have been looking for you everywhere Seb: Y/N are you there? sent by 8pm Seb: I'm going to the club with the team. I hope to see you there sent by 9:34 pm Y/N: Hi Seb! Congratulations with your WDC!! You know that I always believed that you will be a champion one day! I'm really really so happy and so proud of you. Y/N: I'm really sorry if I couldn't be there. I fainted around lap 45 but not to worry, its just my sugar levels. My phone went dead last night and I wasn't able to reply and congratulate right away. I'm really sorry. sent by 11:22 am Seb: Hey, I'm glad to hear you are okay. I just woke up from a massive hangover. I wish you have seen the party Seb: BTW, I have something to tell. Are you still at the hotel? sent by 2:06 pm Y/N: Oh, me and Mark took an early flight back to Melbourne. Parents were a bit worried. sent by 5:44 pm Seb: Okay see you. Y/N: What do you mean see you???? Seb: :)))))))))))))))))

It might be the high from winning the championship or maybe its the alcohol in his system but Sebastian was sure of his decisions.

Clothes are haphazardly thrown into the luggage while he conducts a quick sweep of the essentials he might need. He sent a quick text to everyone that might be needing him. As far as he knows, he has some time off before resuming with his media duties and such.

He is going to Australia.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 20 The Witch, The Siren, and The Prince

Chapter 20 of Moonlight

A/N- this was very fun to write, I hope you all enjoy it!!

Warning- Swearing, talks of pregnancy, violence, angst!!, fluff!!, SPOILERS FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 447- (only a part of) 449

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

Maybe it’s the rain, the grey skies, and the chilly air that makes your mind wonder about your mother and how she’s dealing with Jacaerys death. Has her heart completely been torn from her chest like yours was? Is she overcome with nothing but a raging storm that doesn’t let her see a single break of light in the darkened clouds?

You don’t want to think of her, you want to stay angry, but she appears in your mind like some ghost haunting you from the great beyond. And her eyes, her tears, her reaction to all that transpired in the Gullet fills your head. You’re still angry, you still feel that poison deep within you, but…you can’t help but wonder what she might've thought when she heard what you did. Is she disgusted? Horrified? Is she scared of the woman she birthed and raised after she heard how you relished in that massacre?

No matter what, you don’t want her to be scared of you. You don’t want her to be horrified. And even if some part of you wishes you hadn’t been born, you don’t want her to feel that regret about you. No matter how angry you are…

“My Prince Regent. Princess Regent,” Ser Criston greets Aemond and you with a bow of his head. “Welcome to Harrenhal.”

You snap from the depths of your mind and find Ser Criston glaring at you. If looks could kill his glare would have killed you the moment you hopped off Astraea and stepped onto these damp lands. Why is it so?

Is it because of the lack of a battle and his all too clean armor that should be stained with the blood of the Rivermen? Is it because of the lack of an army and the lack of dragon battle between Caraxes and Vhagar? Or is it because you’re all in Harrenhal?

Sure as you saw it from the sky, you could see the reminder of what happened when Aegon the Conqueror showed the rivermen the power of the dragons, but it’s not a terrible sight. The castle is tall, it was probably the tallest tower once, and it probably touched the sky before it was burnt down. The stone is dark which adds an eeriness as it’s cast by grey clouds, and a large lake sits by the castle which contrasts its eeriness and offers some serenity—for those who can find it anyway.

So it’s not all bad. To you at least. To Ser Criston it’s a different story and a different reason why his frown is carved so deeply on his face—you can already predict why he’s so upset, he’s practically yelling it at you through that glare.

“Men are already rounding up everyone who lives within the castle,” Ser Criston shares as he brings out his arms from behind him and steals a glance at the entrance of the dark castle before looking at Aemond. “And guards are being posted in every direction of the castle.”

Aemond hums and turns around to look at the castle, letting Ser Criston once again sneak a glare at you.

“Taking the castle was easier than I imagined it would be,” you mock Ser Criston as you hold his glare through the silver chains that fall over your face like a veil.

Aemond hums, and you let a faint smirk play in the corner of your lips before you turn away and face the castle from the ground, catching yourself smiling instead of feeling a chill as you see a small brown owl flying overhead.

“Where is everyone?” You don’t try to ease that frustration Ser Criston so obviously holds. You instigate the problem with a smug look playing in your eyes instead of your lips as you face the knight again.

“Why don’t you come with me to the main tent before we head inside,” Ser Criston suggests and Aemond doesn’t hesitate to follow, making you turn to trail after him. Yet as you’re going to step away, suddenly a breeze brushes over you that carries unintelligible whispering which causes you to snap around and face the castle.

Was it just some fragment of your imagination? Some mind trick? It could just be the wind, but you know the difference between a breeze and the whispers that come from someone’s mouth, and what you heard just now was whispering; not from Aemond or Ser Criston, they’re walking away. The whispering came from the breeze that blew from the direction of the castle.

If only you understood what it was saying, but not a word was clear. You just know it was someone whispering, and you wait in hopes you will hear it again, but you instead hear Aemond calling out your name.

“I’m…coming!” You respond over your shoulder and wait for a split second more before you turn around and see him waiting at the bottom hill for you. When you catch up you hook your arm around his and whisper to him as Ser Criston leads the way.

“He seems upset,” you point out as you flip back the chains hanging over your face, and then look at the back of the man's head. “At me more than anything else.”

Aemond sighs and speaks up in High Valyrian so he’s not understood—yet talking in a different language only makes him more suspicious. “<Don’t pay it any mind. There’s no reason to be upset, Daemon left. He’s a coward. It’s that simple.>”

“<You're not upset at me?>” You can’t help but ask and glance at him, catching him glance at you at the same time. “<He saw me. I could’ve been the one who sent him flying.>”

Aemond shakes his head. <You said he was wearing armor. I'm certain he didn’t know we were nearby before he saw you, so he most likely already planned on leaving. It’s not your fault.>”

You glance down at the hand you have around his arm and hum in comprehension, giving away the uneasiness that you tried hard to fight off, but finds a way to still weigh down on you as you feel some responsibility for facing an empty castle. Aemond senses that and leans over to press a kiss on the side of your head.

“The twins don’t like this weather,” you complain and look up. “It messes up my hair.”

“You were just covered in blood,” he rebuttals, making you snicker—“anyway with Daemon gone we won’t stay long. We’ll have my uncle stay here to keep the castle.”

You nod softly. “Good, I miss Aerion and our bed.”

He scoffs, but you make a faint smile tug on his lips regardless.

Before you can reach the tent you feel his gaze on you, so you look over to lock eyes with him and catch the corner of his lips twitching to a smirk. “You look beautiful in that gown. If that wasn’t obvious,” he says, making a warmth creep on your face, and causing you to turn your head away to grin as you mindlessly brush the long silk crimson skirt with your hand.

“You’re being unprofessional, husband. You're going to make Ser Criston mad.”

Aemond scoffs and leans over to whisper in your ear. “I don’t give a damn. I can tell you you look nice whenever I please.”

You smile wider and then lull your head back toward Aemond to look at him with a love-struck gaze. “Thank you,” you whisper against his lips that you brush against as you find him closer than you thought.

He hums and looks down at your lips before he presses a peck on your forehead, making you groan, but making him smirk before he flips the silver chains back over your face to fall like a veil instead of using it like a hairnet.

“<Protect yourself. We’re on enemy grounds.>” He says in High Valyrian.

“It’s more like a fashion piece,” you mumble as you fix the chains.

“It works both ways, that's all that matters,” he retorts before he walks ahead of you to open the tent and let you walk in first.

Once inside the perimeters of the main tent, you’re greeted with the sight of other knights and commanders who hadn’t been in your meetings before. And they all go quiet when Aemond and you walk in and steal their breaths—All except Ser Criston’s and Ser Gwayne’s breath that is.

“Welcome to Harrenhal my Prince, my Princess,” Ser Gwayne greets with a kindness Ser Criston lacked. “If it wasn't obvious we have already taken over the castle with minimal challenge.”

“If a challenge is what you call it,” Ser Criston grumbles. “The doors were open, and the halls emptied. All that remains is prints of what used to be.”

His eyes follow you as you make your way to a seat. You can feel him glowering.

“Have the men inside faced any resistance?” Aemond asks as he takes a seat across from you since there’s no map to study or markers to move. The wooden table is empty and men in their armor simply surround it.

“No, none,” Ser Gwayne answers. “Some men were left, but easily fought. The Strong’s have all but surrendered.”

Aemond hums and Ser Criston parts his lips to finally express his anger against you in a daring and bold tone. “Perhaps if the Princess Regent had not been so reckless in her scouting task then the army would be here, and Daemon would not have fled.”

You look at him unbothered as you cross your leg over the other and sit back before you let your head loll to the side, and then interject in your defense with this cocky air mingling around you. “Mind your tongue Ser,” you roll out softly but threatening in every way. “You may be the Hand, but you still are a Kingsguard.”

You narrow your gaze and a faint smirk that only Ser Criston sees plays on the corner of your lips.

“Forgive me,” he says with no sentiment behind his apology, he just loses his glare and averts his gaze. “I did not mean to raise my voice. We could have had them pinned and destroyed their army. Or if we hadn't, we could have at least diminished their numbers, but now who knows how many more men we may have to face when he joins the others. The Northmen get closer by the day, their numbers may be small, but together they will be a much more dangerous threat.”

Your smirk falls and your eyes fall on your hands as you start to fiddle with your rings at the mention of the Northern men.

“The Northerner army still has to face our Western army,” a commander offers some consolation. “Lord Jason may be dead, but the Lannister army is still prevailing. They fight under Lord Humfrey Lefford now.”

“He’s in a litter,” Ser Criston snaps back spitefully as if the man had any fault.

“But still fighting,” Ser Gwayne counters. “Ease that brow Ser Criston, the princess did not send Daemon and the Rivermen army fleeing. It seems that by the time the Princess went to scout, the army was already leaving around us to avoid us. The same goes for Prince Daemon.”

“Daemon and his river scum fled rather than face my wrath,” Aemond proclaims and as much as you would want to agree, you have a feeling that there’s a much more significant reason why Daemon finally left the Riverlands and the castle undefended—“we will take the castle and after it falls the Princess and I will return to King's Landing. Ser Gwayne—”

Before he can finish sharing his plan a knight walks in with a raven scroll. “My Prince, this came for you from King’s Landing.”

You and Aemond share a confused and concerned glance before he walks over and takes the scroll, letting the knight walk out.

As Aemond opens the scroll, you slip your leg off the other and sit up straight to watch as Aemond’s face begins to twist with a seething rage.

“What is it?” You probe as you stand up. “What’s wrong?”

Aemond crumbles up the scroll and hurls it on the tabletop before he snaps his glare up as he huffs out through his nose, and then exclaims. “Daemon and that cunt Rhaenyra took King’s Landing!”

Tension fills the room, and everyone around the table passes worried glances as Aemond’s nostrils begin to flare with each heavy breath he takes.

“They took it while we were away! They have my son captive! And my mother and sister along with him!” He yells, making you swallow back nervously. Not out of fear of what they would do to Aerion, your mother wouldn’t hurt him, nor would Daemon. You grow nervous because of what Aemond wants to do to retaliate such an attack against him and the crown he almost held at his fingertips. It was there in his reach and now it got taken away by a man that a few days ago was under his nose.

“That’s where that craven took that army! That’s where that fucking craven went!” His angry shouts fill the tent, making everyone not dare to look him in the eye. You don’t even look at him, not because you fear him, you don’t. You don’t face him because you once again redirect your thoughts to your mother.

She took King’s Landing. That’s what she has been up to since Jacaerys death. She most likely used her anger to finally take the capital from Aemond and the rest of the Greens while Vhagar was away. She did it and you don’t know if you’re angry, or secretly proud. You don’t fight for either side, that’s still true. You fight for yourself, for your survival and that of your children and Aemond, but as she sits on the throne of swords does she think about you? Or does she now look at you the same way she looks at Aemond? Like an enemy that needs to be taken down? A daughter turned enemy that she will not consider her heir now that Jacaerys is dead?

What are you to her now that she finally sits on the Iron Throne? And are you proud or upset? Then again that last question depends on how she sees you now.

Regardless, it’s not like you can know now so you focus back on Aemond still simmering in his rage before he suddenly turns around swiftly and stomps out of the tent.

You and Ser Gwayne share a concerned look before you quickly follow Aemond out, seeing that he seems to be heading toward the castle.

You then quickly catch up to him and match his pace even if he takes very long strides, and manage to catch his arm.

“Aemond?” You beckon his attention, and he doesn’t hesitate to give it to you. And rather than meeting anger because you are the daughter of Rhaenyra; the one who took the throne behind his back, you actually see that he shares a malicious and smug look with you that answers your upcoming question before you can express it, and eases your chest from its clenched hold whilst also sparking those same emotions inside you.

That malice playing in his eyes is contagious, and you welcome it with open arms. You don’t fight it, it eases right in you. Which sounds twisted that with one look from Aemond you match the emotions inflaming within him, but you can’t help it. Be it doubt about your mother and the anger you still hold for her that makes understanding him and matching his fire that much easier, but you do. And it’s also with another single look that he gives you that you trust him wholeheartedly.

No words were exchanged. There’s no need for them. He asks you with his eye alone to trust him, only glances are exchanged, only your souls communicate together through your eyes, and without hesitation or pesky doubt, you trust him. You show him that you trust him without a single word, you lift your nose in the air and pass him a sly smirk. And he is relieved to know you understand. It’s your understanding, your matching fire that makes his shoulders roll back with more confidence and makes him have more cockiness in his stride.

When you finally make your way past the entrance of the blackened castle, your gaze hardens and emanates an icy fire that intimidates those who meet your gaze and gives away the suffering that made you so cold.

For those who look closely anyway, otherwise, they meet the eyes of a dragon in human form, the Blood Dragon, and the Fire Demon who demolished the Triarchy in The Gullet. You are a sight to behold, more so as you walk side by side, and at a matching pace with your husband Prince Aemond, the Prince Regent.

Before there was a change in the air as all the bodies that inhabited the castle were rounded up and confronted by a large army, but now it’s a different story. Now a darker cloud looms over Harrenhal as Aemond and you make your way into the courtyard, as they announce your names and titles, and you both pierce your glares down at everyone from the clouds. You literally stood before them, face to face, on the ground, but to the eyes of captured men and women and everyone that was not either of you, you watched them from a throne in the clouds.

Aemond and you are the very picture of royalty. Whereas Daemon waltzed about the castle looking every bit of a dragon warrior and offering his assistance where he could, Aemond and you differed; you’re like gods with your piercing glares that could damn anyone if they looked too close, and your noses in the air that showed everyone you were nowhere near them.

“Who is the castellan of Harrenhal?” Aemond asks a question he knows, but he’s playing around with all the captives set before you. “Step forward.”

The old and the young men all look between each other before a plump man with grey hair steps forward in his velvet robes, and his eyes downcasted.

“It is I, Ser Simon Strong, at your service, my Prince…and Princess.”

He dares himself to glance at you as if waiting to be corrected, but you tilt your head up, proving he was right to also name you.

“The castle is yours,” Ser Simon Strong adds, making Aemond snicker, and unsettling the old lord and every man behind him. “We surrender Harrenhal to you.” The man declares and bows his head.

Aemond and you share a quick glance before Aemond steps forward and pulls Blackfyre out of its sheath to lift Ser Simon’s chin with the flat side of the blade.

“Did you fall on your knees just as quickly when Daemon barged in here and took the castle?” He asks with his anger heightening in his tone. “Why should I trust the words of a man who yielded the castle and his loyalty to the enemy?”

Ser Simon swallows thickly and shakes his head as panic grows in his eyes. “No, he forced us, my Prince. He took the castle by force. My loyalties are to King Aegon. We are true and loyal servants of the crown,” he runs his mouth without trying to avert his gaze so his every word is believed, but Aemond is no fool. Even if he was, nothing would spare the castallen from Aemond’s wrath.

“My nephew Lord Larys Strong serves the realm, and the King as the Master of Whisperers,” he continues to add, but that only makes Aemond’s grip around the sword tighten. “House Strong serves no other ruler but King Aegon, and you.”

Aemond lowers the sword and steps back, giving the man a false sense of relief.

“Lord Larys tried to kill my son and heir,” Aemond makes the man stiffen. “He is only five months old. Lord Larys tried to kill my wife, your Princess, and the babes growing inside her, so tell me, Lord Strong,” Aemond rolls out with every word laced with venom. “Why should I trust the words or loyalties of a man whose nephew betrayed the crown? Who let the pretender inside the city and take the throne?!” He sneers, and Ser Simon shakes his head trying to argue but what words can he use to assure Aemond?

There’s nothing the man can say. No excuses, no protests. There at that moment, inside of Aemond’s eye, he can see the fate that awaits him.

“Give Ser Simon a sword,” Aemond demands as he turns to start pacing menacingly. “Let the Gods decide if he speaks truly. If you are innocent Ser, the Warrior will give you strength to defeat me. If not…” he trails off and ends the sentence with silence, but there’s no need for him to finish, everyone knows what will happen if the man doesn’t defeat Aemond. Just like everyone knows that will be the only outcome of this duel. Aemond knows it, and you know it.

Everyone knows that Ser Simon’s fate is imminent. He knows it for certain and it’s why he looks at you for reassurance, for a wedge that could let him escape his lurking fate. Yet he’s mistaken. Besides he only looks at you for help because you’re a woman for one; you are meant to have a woman’s merciful heart. And two, you're Rhaenyra’s daughter, you are the Realm’s Golden Girl, but the Realm’s Golden Girl doesn’t reside within you anymore, she’s dead, and he sees that when he catches your intimidating glare behind those silver chains over your face. Thus he leaves you be as he sees that his fate is set in stone.

“<You may not need it, but I’m still going to give you my favor,>” you tell Aemond as he waits to fight Ser Simon, making him hum in response before you stand on the tip of your toes and press a kiss on his cheek. “<The gods are in your favor, my love.>”

Aemond holds your gaze for a lingering moment before he turns away and heads to the center of the courtyard to face his old opponent shoved to the center. All while you walk back in the shadows to stand next to Ser Gwayne.

“What happens to the other men of the castle?” You ask as you see how Aemond rolls his shoulders back.

“If the Prince is merciful they are kept captive where they’re forced to work for us or rot in a cell,” Ser Gwayne says without trying to hide a thing. “If he’s not well, your dragons are going to be well-fed tonight.”

You hum and drift your eyes to all the men and the boys nervously watching the fight about to commence. You would like to say there’s a flicker of some sense to help them, but all that grows within you is a dangerous smugness that accompanies a wicked plan that starts to take root.

Would you be denied such pleasures though? That’s the question you should ask yourself before you get excited.

Perhaps by Ser Criston, but Aemond? Doubtful. Actually probably not since he’s furious that King’s Landing was taken. You will have to wait until after the duel to know though.

Until then you clasp your hands before you and feel a rush of excitement as the duel starts and Aemond stares the man down. Yet as Ser Simon is going to attempt to make his first move, a breeze blows past you again and that same whispering travels amongst it, pulling your eyes away from the duel and drifting them toward an arch that leads out somewhere you don’t know, somewhere that every muscle in your body wants to move toward, but somewhere you don’t push yourself to go to just yet.

You stay where you are and slowly bring your eyes down, at that moment catching distant green eyes looking back at you. Big green eyes that belong to a woman in dark purple who sports long black hair that flows behind her as a breeze also brushes past her. A woman that steals your attention over the singing of the swords hitting against each other and holds your attention over the fact that Aemond is the one dueling.

You don’t know why she holds your attention captive, you don’t know why you look at this woman amongst the flock of other women who reside in this castle. You just hold her gaze and feel a familiarity deep in your bones. Have you seen the gleam of her eyes somewhere? A haunting dream perhaps?

You don’t know, she just seems familiar. And the way she holds your gaze makes it seem like she knows you too, like she’s not scared of you like the others are.

“No!!”

You rip your eyes away from the woman and look back to the center of the courtyard, finding Ser Simon bleeding out from a large gash on his stomach that has his inside leaking out, and proves Aemond the winner. Not like it was going to go any other way, everyone knew, you knew with certainty. But even still, you beam at him and clap, making him smirk at the ground as you make your way to each other.

When you meet in the middle he grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. Before he turns around you tighten your grip around his hold and draw his attention to you. “Do you trust me?” You ask out loud.

Aemond’s eye digs deep into your soul to try and figure out what you’re up to. Yet even if he sees that malice reflecting back at him, he can’t exactly pull your mind apart so he nods. “Of course,” he assures you.

You blink and sigh with relief before you glance at the women cornered at the far end of the courtyard. “Oh, and the women, spare them.”

Aemond follows your gaze and shakes his head lightly, but you grab his arm and pull his attention back to you. “Aemond,” you insist and come up with a quick but strong excuse to spare their lives. “With King’s Landing taken we might stay here a while, we need them. I need them. I need someone to tend to me as I am with child.” You press and make him hold your gaze for a long while as he debates your proposal.

When his mind is made he sighs deeply. “Alright. They will be spared.”

“Good…and let me handle the sentencing of the sons, everyone else is yours to do as you please,” you add for some context before he can get carried away.

“They will not be spared,” he clarifies, making you nod in comprehension before you let his hand go and face the horrified and solemn crowd together.

“Have his body fed to Vhagar,” Aemond proclaims as he strides forward to be at the center of attention. “As for the rest of you, hm.”

He turns with his hands clasped behind him, and his nose in the air to show his boast in confidence and power after his win. “The Princess Regent wants the women spared, so they shall. Thank her for I thought of you as dragon fodder.” He huffs with amusement. “Tend to her, and if she or my children are harmed I will slay you down myself.”

There’s no echo of responses, everyone understands and agrees in a sign of relief.

“And if I hear that any man from our army touched them against their will, I will hunt them down,” you make it known threateningly. “Ser Criston? Ser Gwayne? The men better behave and find whores to bother instead.”

“Understood,” Ser Gwayne is the only one who voices his comprehension, while Ser Criston, well, as you peer back he simply offers you a stiff nod.

You don’t argue about his response, you simply hum and then roll your shoulders back to mirror your husband's stance before you stalk toward him as you have your gaze set on the crowd of men now.

“As for the men,” you continue to have your voice be heard, piquing Ser Criston’s attention now more than before. “Every bastard boy seventeen and younger is spared. As for the sons of Ser Simon Strong, please step forward.”

Whispers travel about the crowd of men and women, while you peer over at Ser Criston and catch him looking at Aemond as if seeking for him to control you and stop taking charge.

Alas Aemond is too busy with what you have planned to pay Ser Criston any mind.

“Good,” you say as the men you asked for walk to the center of the courtyard, whilst in the air the sound of large flapping wings is heard before Astraea makes an appearance as she perches herself on a wall that towers over the courtyard, setting terror within the men before you as her gaze pierces in them the same way yours does.

“W-we surrender!” A man seeming to be not much older than you stammers out as he falls to his knees. “Please, please Your Grace we are at your mercy!”

A wicked smirk tugs on your lips at the sound of his words, but before you can do or say anything, you look over at Aemond, and with your eyes point at the empty spot next to his uncle that’s right under Astraea’s neck, and away from her target of fire.

Aemond of course seems hesitant at first, but after you insist he falls back, letting you face the men with a dark and piercing gaze and a menacing smirk only meant for them.

“You’re at my mercy. That’s good,” you interject in a soft voice before you utter a single word in the softest most alluring way. “Dracarys.”

Astraea doesn’t hesitate, she doesn’t need to be told twice, she brings her head down right behind you and opens her mouth to blast out a blazing cloud of fire that captures you in its rage along with all the men you brought to the middle. All except one.

One man manages to slip away from Astraea’s wrath the moment she opens her mouth. Albeit he’s caught by Aemond before he can run any further and is forced to watch as his brothers cry out in pain, as their skin melts from their bones, and as you stand there unharmed and a cold look in your eyes. There's no menacing smirk, no smug one either. You watch them suffer from inside those flames with a piercing look; not amusement or pride, and not malice either. Pure anger flickers in your eyes the same way the flames flicker around you.

Why anger though?

Because you’re angry at the world. You want the men you set ablaze to suffer the same way you’re suffering over the loss of your brothers. You want them to suffer the same way you suffer as those lies you were told echo in your head. You want them to live in the same pain you do as you remember at every waking hour that the man you loved with all your heart left you behind.

You’re full of rage and you want them all to feel the heat of your anger.

——

*LATER*

“What do we do next?” You ask as your eyes wander yet another darkened hall. “With Vermax gone that still leaves us severely outnumbered.”

Ser Criston sighs deeply and for once his glare is not aimed at you, or anyone for that matter, he looks down at the table and thinks over the next course of action.

“We march South, join Daeron and the rest of the Hightower forces,” Ser Gwayne suggests and looks to Aemond in hopes he will agree. “Our support is the strongest in the South. With the Rivermen supporting the Blacks we are surrounded by the enemy now that they have taken the throne. Our best choice would be to march South, have three dragons joined together, and two large armies join strengths. We could have a chance to retake King's Landing with our forces together.”

You slowly drift your eyes toward Aemond, and as he glances at you, you let him know with a slight lift of your chin that you agree with whatever he has planned—He understands that and rolls his eye back to his uncle.

“No. That is a craven’s choice. That’s what they want us to do, run like they did. I will not run like a dog with its tail between its legs,” he sneers and presses his hands on the surface of the round table. “We will hold this castle and find a way to retake King’s Landing, even if it means having to lure each dragonrider one by one until all that Rhaenyra has left is one dragon.”

“There's no use for our armies here,” Ser Criston argues and approaches the table. “Prince Daemon is gone and the men with him are too. That’s why we came in the first place, to fight them, and now they’re gone. We will just be a sitting target ready to be plucked by the enemy around us.”

“Enemy?” Aemond bites back as he tilts his head. “The Lannister army is taking out our enemy. We will not run. We will hold this castle and make our plans here, do you understand?”

Ser Criston and Ser Gwayne share an unconvinced and doubtful glance before Ser Gwayne meets your gaze and seems to ask for help to talk sense to Aemond. Which is kind of funny because ever since you stood there in that courtyard with the ashes of your enemy at your feet and you perfectly unscathed, Ser Gwayne nor Ser Criston have been able to meet you in the eye.

They can’t look past their horror because that’s what it is, there’s no mistaking the horror you saw on their faces when the fire died down and you stood there unharmed. It’s like you turned to a plague in their eyes, a fearsome thing to behold, or even look at.

Not like you care. You don’t give a damn if they fear you, or if they think of you as some demon. Aemond looked at you with fascination as the fire died and you stood there unharmed. If it was possible his love for you only intensified, and if he wasn’t already in love, he would fall with you all over again at that moment in time as the fire bathed you and you stood there radiantly, like the very sun itself. You were not someone to fear. You were and are awe-striking, something to look at with wonder and fascination. Someone to worship. What you possess is a gift, not a curse. He sees that, he knows that and he could never fear you because of it. That’s all that matters to you.

“Great,” Aemond adds with a huff as neither Ser Criston nor Ser Gwayne protests his plan.

“What of Ser Simon’s youngest son?” Ser Gwayne brings up now that he has the chance. “What will be of him?”

You stand up straighter and stifle your mischievous smirk. “I will give him the chance to gain his freedom on the morrow in a…trial by combat. He managed to escape Astraea’s wrath, so I will give him a chance to gain his freedom. It’s only fair.”

Ser Gwayne does not seem to have any protests about your plan. It’s insignificant so it doesn’t bother him, but Ser Criston seems annoyed, disgusted almost, and he hopes Aemond has some protest, but your husband did not see what he did. Not even a bit, which only leaves the knight more annoyed.

Does he say anything though? No, he stays quiet and doesn’t really speak up about any other matter that’s discussed. A silence falls over the hall as they all swallow any protests that go against Aemond’s plan, which makes for a short meeting. Which is great for you, it feels like you’ve been on your feet for days without rest. The twins are only getting bigger by the day and are only draining more of your energy. You want to sleep until the next day, and maybe eat something sweet?

Cake! That sounds good. Maybe you’ll have one of the cooks make you one—then again what if they try to poison you?

If only you had the faintest idea of how to make a cake of your own. Alas, you don’t, and you don’t want to ask anyone to make one either. You’ll have to live with the temptation.

Unless…

“Ser Jason—”

There it is again. That whispering accompanying the wind.

It’s still unintelligible, but you hear it again. Only this time it doesn’t go away with the wind, you keep hearing it. It's loud and then it goes quiet as it lures you somewhere you shouldn’t go, somewhere you should be cautious about, after all, you just got here, Daemon held this castle previously, and someone loyal to him could harm you. Yet no matter how many times you try to tell yourself to stop, you can’t ignore the soft whispering. It’s as if the wind is pulling you with it throughout the wet grounds, and you’re too entranced to stop.

“What is it, princess?” Ser Jason interjects.

You shake your head. “Never mind,” you brush him off and walk faster, turning corners, and passing by servants who stop to let you pass. You walk over puddles, and forget corridors you take to get to the Godswood?

You’re in the Godswood, in front of a large Heart tree with vibrant red leaves, the finest and whitest wood, and long roots that spread all over the ground. You stand there under its towering ancient presence and realize at that instant that the whispering is calling you to its presence. It’s telling you to go so you go with no protest and no fear. You walk to it with fascination as that whispering gets louder but not clearer, just louder as you get closer and closer.

Once you stand before the weeping face an urge takes over you to touch the sap that falls from it. It’s telling every muscle in your body to touch it and finally cipher what the whispering is saying, so you start to stretch your hand out. Yet as your fingers hover over the red sap, the sound of Ser Jason’s threatening voice stops you.

“There is far enough.”

The whispering goes quiet and you drop your arm back to your side right away before you turn and face, her. It’s that woman from the courtyard, the one that you swear you know, but can’t pinpoint from where. A dream perhaps?

Regardless, she’s standing there behind Ser Jason’s sword looking directly at you with her big eyes.

“Ser,” you interject softly and walk down toward them. “It’s alright.”

Ser Jason glances over at the entrance to make sure your husband isn’t lurking and ready to get him in trouble before he slowly does as he’s told, leaving the woman with access to you now.

“You,” you direct at her with a hint of wonder.

“Alys,” she says and side-eyes your sworn protector with the most rudest side-eye you’ve ever seen and then slowly drags her feet toward you. “Rivers.”

You take in her name with a gentle nod and she stops walking while you step back on the ground to be on the same level, but still several feet away.

“You,” she redirects, making the corner of your lips twitch up, but not extend to that smile just yet. Not even when she says your name.

“Some of those boys you and the Prince put to the sword were good. Boys with no name who were just trying to live,” she says boldly, making you raise your chin and show no falter in your decision. You show no regret and no guilt. Pride sparks in your eyes and makes the corner of your lips tug to a malicious smirk.

“Boys turn to vengeful men,” you counter simply. “Men have already tried to kill me and my children. I won’t let them get close again.”

She doesn’t say anything in return, she instead walks closer but stops soon thereafter and looks you up and down, letting you do the same in the silence that comes down over you.

You still try to figure out where you might know her from, but you can’t come up with an answer, just more curiosity.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a while now,” she breaks the silence, making you stiffen and causing your lips to part as your eyes slowly widen—“It’s about time our paths crossed, don’t you think?”

The corner of her lips lift slightly, but you only look at her shocked as your mind unravels what she might be.

“Are you—”

“A healer,” she interrupts you. “Yes.”

You shake your head as that shock turns back to fascination. “A witch?”

She scoffs and brings her hands together as she slowly makes her way closer to you, causing you to try and step back out of caution. However, you don’t actually end up moving. You think you do but you can’t bring yourself to really move.

“Well, I dabble in some medicinal things and people call them potions. The wind speaks to me, murky waters and fire paint me a picture, but I wouldn’t call myself that.”

You let out a breathless laugh, and then as she finally stops only a few inches away do you study her; her defined jaw, her big green eyes that have a way of luring you in, and her long and beautiful black hair that flows down her back.

“I am merely Alys. That’s all. That's all I’ll be in this long game.”

Your eyebrows twitch together in confusion, but you don’t question her. You don’t dare to yet.

“And you,” she continues and piques your curiosity. “A spark that triggers a greater fire.”

Your shoulders fall and a flood of questions come through your mind, drowning out any suspicions you held for her.

“What do you mean?” Is the first question that escapes you, making her lips lift up to a smug smile.

“All in due time, Princess, we still have a lot of time together,” she deflects and steps aside to point at the door that leads back inside the castle. “Why don’t I check on your twins first, hm?”

You part your lips and finally have the right mind to hesitate. “Maybe a maester can help me.”

She scoffs. “There’s no maester here. He left. Don’t worry, you can trust me.”

You draw in a deep breath and continue to hesitate for a moment longer until you remember that there’s no maester in your grand arsenal of men, so there’s no other choice but to trust her.

“Very well,” you give in with a deep breath and walk with her, but end up stopping when Ser Jason doesn’t follow closely behind. He stays in the middle of the courtyard and looks around panicked until you call for his attention.

“Ser Jason?”

His head snaps toward you and he looks at you horrified.

“Are you alright, Ser? Too brisk for you?”

Alys snickers and you offer the man a teasing smile, but he just heaves until he shakes his head and clears his throat before he finally catches up. You then continue your path inside side by side with Alys until you reach some messy hall with a cozy fire lit inside, and a round table full of clutter.

It's hard to be awed by the mess.

“Sit,” she orders and points to a large chair before she goes and tries to close the door. However, Ser Jason puts his foot in the way to stop her.

“No,” he deadpans.

“No men, just us. I have to check on her privately. Unless you want to be a part of it?” She asks and then seems to whisper something you don’t catch, but makes Ser Jason’s eyes flutter nervously before he slowly slides his foot back, making her scoff.

“None of your father’s backbone. He would’ve fought to stay here,” she has no shame in saying. And even if you should be in disbelief, you’re awed by her jab.

Poor Ser Jason can’t say the same, he’s horrified and flabbergasted all at the same time, and it’s her comment that lets her shut the door in his face and then face you with a smile.

You had the thought of asking her how she knew about Ser Jason’s big secret, but how do witches know anything?

Who knows. You leave it as just an impressive feat.

“How far along are you?” She asks as she makes her way to the round table.

You draw in a deep breath and look at the floor for an answer, but you can’t come up with it right away. There’s been death after death, and devastating news after devastating news that you lost track.

“A month maybe? Almost two? I have lost track. I just know that I am not showing yet.” You say.

Alys hums as she puts a kettle over the fire. “Has there been bleeding?” She then asks as she turns back to her table. “Anything of note?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m just more tired now. Hungry. The aches have slowly gone away.”

She nods in comprehension and you interlace your hands together and let your eyes explore the dimly lit room. Alys walks over to you, but doesn’t garner your attention until she’s standing over you.

“You ought to be more cautious,” she almost scolds you. It sounds like it anyway. “Locked in a room with me? After having just met me.”

You slowly stand up as you hold her gaze and without saying anything you flip back the silver chains that fall over your face, as if leaving the most valuable part of you vulnerable after feeling the need to protect it after Jacaerys death.

“There’s nothing you can do that can hurt me,” you mutter full of gloom. “Whatever was left of my heart died with my brother.”

Alys looks deep into your eyes and you catch the slight shake of her head before she whispers. “Is that why you leave yourself vulnerable to me? Armor can only protect so much.”

You draw out a deep breath and finally let go of her gaze. “Let’s just say it feels as if I already know you. Is it you? Some trick?”

She rolls her eyes. “No,” she retorts. “No trick, our part of our story is at last getting told. That’s all.”

You scoff and nod softly. “Okay. You’re strange, you know that?”

She smiles. “So I have been told. Sit and put your legs up on this,” she says and drags a tall stool in front of the chair, letting you do as she asked to let her check on you and the twins.

“You ought to be careful with whom you share your fire with,” she finally goes back to what she was trying to get at. “You don’t know me. You don’t even know half of this world. There are cold people who would do anything to snuff out a warm and blazing fire like yours. You can’t let them, you’re a dragon with fire-made flesh, be a dragon,” she gets across harshly as she’s examining you, which kind of fails to get her point across, but it still finds a way to travel in your ears and make you quiet. Like a mother would, or an older sister, or some passionate and dedicated teacher.

And like a scolded child you stay quiet until she’s done.

“Strong,” she shares, easing your worry. “And growing as they should be.”

You let out a relieved sigh and slide your legs back to let your gown fall back over your legs. “There was one smaller than the other, is that still the same?” You have to ask, making her hold your gaze in a gentle manner as she nods.

“Keep trying to stay strong and your little dragons will do the same, hm?”

You nod in comprehension and watch her walk to a bowl of water to wash her hands before she pulls the kettle out of the fire to now prepare some tea or something you can’t figure out yet.

“It’s nice talking to another woman,” you share with no shame and with no kind of hesitation to her warnings. “My handmaiden Vanessa stayed behind, and so did Helaena. It’s just me and a bunch of men. Only Aemond doesn’t let me converse with any, so it’s mostly him, and Ser Gwayne. So it’s nice talking to you.”

Alys stops mashing some kind of herbs and blinks repeatedly as if caught in disbelief over your words before she slowly lifts her gaze and looks at you with this different gleam in her eyes. It’s much softer, but still bright that it makes it look like she’s smiling with her eyes before an actual smile paints on her features.

“Daemon was much colder and distant, you—”

“Ew,” you cut her off with disgust. “Never ever compare me to him. That’s…no.”

She giggles and besides your disgust, you laugh quietly along with her. You share a laugh until the door is ripped open and Aemond stomps inside with a glare already set on Alys.

“If you’re done let’s go,” he says through gritted teeth as he snaps his gaze to you.

“It’s quite alright,” she tries to assure him as she mixes the hot water and herbs she dumps in a cup. “I don’t bite.”

Aemond drags his gaze back to her and passes her a glare without returning any word. He just glares at her before he looks back at you and presses his insistence to leave.

“I’m going,” you whisper sharply as you make your way to him, whilst Alys makes her way to you—“she was just checking on me and your twins.” You snap and he presses his glare at you, making you roll your eyes in return.

When you reach Aemond’s side, Alys reaches you, so he grabs your wrist and steps back, but you stay grounded.

“Drink this, it’s red raspberry leaf tea. For you and your babes,” she says and offers you the cup which you take without question.

“Thank you, Alys,” you tell her with a gentle smile as you slide your arm up to grab Aemond’s hand.

“And if you,” she directs at him. “Find yourself having…sleepless nights, I can make you something to aid in that. You need only ask.”

Aemond’s gaze hardens as he hums before he turns around swiftly, making his hair turn dramatically. Before you leave Alys behind you offer her one last smile, and then catch up to Aemond’s side so he’s not dragging you with him.

“I went to look for you at our chambers and you were not there,” he says in annoyance, but you brush him off.

“She was merely checking on me and the twins. That’s all.”

Aemond stops walking, and you stop with him. Before he can face you he mutters. “Then talk to a maester or a midwife. Not some…whatever she is.”

“Healer,” you avoid saying witch so he doesn’t overreact. “And if you must know the twins are fine. Strong, she says.”

Aemond turns slowly with a change in his expression; going from upset and overly concerned to relieved and soft.

“Are they?” He probes as he reaches over and gently caresses your belly.

“Mhm-hmm,” you reassure him with a hum. “Getting bigger.”

The corner of his lips twitch up very faintly and you just watch him with a blissful smile before you glance down at him pressing his hand against your belly.

“<That's good,>” he whispers in High Valyrian.

You press your hand over his and smile wider, which is something he catches now and studies for a lingering moment before he then snatches the cup in your hand and throws it back.

“Aemond!”

“You’re not drinking that,” he deadpans and continues walking.

It’s not like you can collect the tea off the ground so you follow at his side. “You’re being dramatic,” you mumble.

“No. You don’t know her,” he argues. “It could be poison. I’m just protecting you and the twins.”

He is right to be wary, so you don’t argue, but to throw out the tea like that?!

Regardless, with nothing to be done over the spilled tea when you make it to your quarters, you once again hesitate and stiffen at the sight of your new dark chambers with a leaking roof.

At least there’s a hot bath ready now.

“Bathe with me, my love,” you tell Aemond over your shoulder, and at that moment catch him still in the hall, seeming to be staring at something in particular that has him stiff, his nose flared, and his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Aemond?” You call out and walk back out, catching a simple dark empty corridor. “What is it?” You query and grab his hand to tug it and gain his attention. “Aemond?”

Said man’s lips curl as if he’s getting upset at the emptiness, so you step in front of him and find his lost gaze.

“What is it?” You ask with concern and finally, his attention finds you after being somewhere far away. “Are you okay?”

His gaze flickers behind you for a second before he looks back at you and nods. You question him speechlessly as you’re hesitant to believe him, but he presses a kiss on your forehead and finally heads inside.

“Come on,” he whispers, but before you follow him back inside you steal a glance at the end of the corridor first. When you find it empty once again you just head back inside your chambers.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“The prisoner as you requested,” a man says as he pushes the Strong boy in front of Aemond and you, letting Aemond and you share the same mischievous look before he steps forward and simply studies the boy.

After a minute of silence, he steps before him, towering over his kneeled figure and looking at him with a pointed glare. “I will say I am…surprised you managed to avoid getting burnt,” he breaks the silence in his menacing low voice. “It is for that sole reason that the Princess Regent has granted you a chance to live.”

The boy blinks repeatedly in disbelief and shifts on his knees but doesn’t dare to look up at the lurking menace before him.

“A simple trial by combat,” Aemond reveals, making a crowd of men begin to gather in the tall and long great hall. “I’m sure you are aware how that works or do you need someone to explain it to you?”

The boy shakes his head. “No, I know.”

Aemond shifts his feet around and looks at the ground before he slowly scales his gaze up your figure before meeting your gaze with a sense of hesitation in his eye. All because he isn’t a big fan of your plan. He only agreed to it after a lot of persuading.

“Albeit,” you interject and walk forward, catching the young man’s attention, and making Aemond watch you walk forward until you reach his side—“there’s a change in the rules. You cannot pick your champion, you will fight, but you can pick your opponent between fighters we have chosen for today.”

The young man’s eyes widen before he drops his gaze to the ground and dares to argue. “But…”

“You can always choose death,” Aemond cuts him off, and the young man closes his mouth and stays quiet, responding to Aemond’s comment at that moment.

“If you win you get to be free, and if they win well…” you trail off since there’s no need to finish the rest, he knows what will happen. “Here are your choices,” you gain his attention once again.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower,” you announce and point to the knight. “Ser Criston Cole. Prince Aemond Targaryen,” you say and look at your husband who is hoping he is the one picked for today's trial. “Or…me.” You smirk, and the young man of course doesn’t reflect any sort of amusement. He looks rather baffled and slightly horrified that you, a woman, would offer to be his opponent.

“Don't worry you will get to wear armor,” you try to reassure him, but that’s not what he’s worried about.

“But the Prince is the Prince, I cannot harm him,” he argues as he shakes his head in denial, making you grow annoyed rather quickly.

“Choose,” you urge him impatiently.

The young man looks between Aemond, you, and the two knights behind you. He debates for a long moment, bringing tension to the hall until finally a shaky finger points at you.

“Good,” you whisper with a smug smile that slowly spreads on your lips. “Why don’t you help him don some armor,” you direct at the guards and start to turn to Aemond.

“No,” the young man cuts in, pulling your eyes back to him—“I do not require it. I am good as I am.”

And there it is, overconfidence because you’re a woman. You admire it.

“Are you sure?” You make sure to ask, but he doesn’t think it over, he nods, making you scoff softly before you turn to your husband whilst the young man is pulled off his knees to be prepared for the duel.

“I could take your place,” Aemond tries to protest. “I know you can fight, but you do not have to.”

You grab his arm and shake your head. “No I do not have to, but I want to. I can. And he is already doubting me. I will use that and win.”

Aemond swallows thickly and still looks unconvinced.

“I will be okay,” you assure him softly as you slide your hand down his arm to grab his hand. “You have to trust that I can win. Alright?”

Aemond draws in a deep breath and steals a glance at the young man getting a sword handed to him.

“I don’t know, it takes one swing,” Aemond argues and returns his gaze to you to plead with his eye as well. “And you are with child. No, you cannot.”

“I will,” you press and grab his other arm to lean in closer. “I have fought men much more threatening than him and won, and I have learned from good men like you.”

Aemond’s gaze falls and he shakes his head. “You more so stalked our training.”

You chuckle softly and his lips twitch but he can’t find amusement in your laugh, he only finds more reasons to stop you.

“Aemond,” you insist softly. “I will be fine. I will win. I won’t die today.”

Aemond’s gaze slowly drifts past you and fixates on something. You slowly follow his line of gaze and see nothing but a group of men waiting eagerly for the duel, so you look back at him and cup his cheek

“I will be fine,” you say one more time to reassure him and then lean in to press a kiss on his cheek.

“At least use Blackfyre then,” he quips as he has no other choice but to accept your decision. “If he’s a great fighter he will win regardless of what sword you use.”

He pulls the sword out of its sheath, and you gladly take the massive Valyrian steel sword.

“<Be careful>,” he finally says in High Valyrian, making you nod in comprehension before you let him press a kiss on your cheek.

Before he pulls back he keeps his face close to yours, letting his breath unfurl over your cheek, and his lips grazing on your flesh. You stay in his presence and take in his gentle gesture before you tilt your head and slowly press a kiss on his thin lips before you pull away and walk to the middle of the circle the audience of men has created in anticipation and curiosity.

The young man slowly follows suit and rather than looking nervous, he looks rather determined and quite vengeful. Rightfully so, but let’s see if all those emotions will help win.

He does start right away by stalking around you, which gives him an edge, but you're quick to fix your stance while you follow his figure with your eyes until he's finally face to face with you again, glare narrowed and full of fury. He parts lips and you wait for a word to slip, something to express the grief and the anger, but instead, he lets out a deep guttural scream before he sprints at you and throws a harsh swing that you avert by stepping back with your hand relaxed.

The man sees that you swerved, so he reacts with a growl before he follows with another swing that you once again avert by turning away swiftly.

This only infuriates the young man more so he grabs his sword with both hands and brings his hands back to swing down at your head. You, albeit, quickly swing Blackfyre up and let your swords sing in the tense silence that fills the hall.

“That’s right,” you whisper as you hold his gaze overfilled with anger, and those two simple words only trigger him further, causing him to shove you back with all his strength to the point you stumble but react with a grin.

The young man lunges at you out of anger, but you’re quick, you meet his action and use all of your strength to push away his sword. He then quickly throws his arm back up, but you once again meet his swing. This time though you see that he’s focused on your upper body so you use your leg to kick him back.

The young man stumbles back and you take advantage of the rush passing through your system and stomp toward him. He quickly finds balance and swings hard at your neck with an angry bark leaving his lips, but you duck, and as you’re swinging down past his blade, you swiftly twirl the sword around in your hand to pass it to your non-dominant hand over your back. When you’re standing to your given height you reach your dominant hand back to rip your cloak off and hurl it at his face the same way you saw Ser Jason do to his opponent when you watched him fight for the first time. And like when you studied his fight you actually manage to catch the man off guard and block his view. Just the way you wanted.

Thus just as the man grabs the cloak on his face and begins to pull it off, you swing your sword and manage to slice his head clean off his neck, ending the fight, and proving you the winner.

Now that nail-biting tension slowly slips away, the nervousness on the men’s faces gathered around fall and a mix of disbelief and pride begins to seep through. And as much as you rejoice in the people’s reactions, and find an immense pride in proving men wrong by winning, you turn to look at Aemond first and foremost. You meet his gaze and get lost in his eye, causing everyone and everything around you to slip away and only leave you and him in the hall full of people.

There you are in your own little world, relishing in your achievement, proving you are strong and capable, someone worth fearing just like him, and Aemond can’t offer you anything else but a soft prideful smile as his eyes offer the same emotion, but also an intense awe. And no matter how much you like the attention of other people, the praise, and demonstrating that you are a fearsome thing to behold, all that matters at that moment is Aemond’s reaction. Everything else is meaningless compared to the pride and praise he offers you with his smile and that look in his eye. That’s all you need, all you could ever want.

“Let’s give a cheer to the Princess Regent!” Ser Gwayne breaks you away from your moment with Aemond before you can run over to him. “Princess!”

“Princess!”

“Princess!”

“Princess!” The cheers fill the room, ridding the hall of all that tension that once held a grip on everyone. After seeing you come out of that dragon fire unscathed they thought of you as some demon from the seven hells or some damn curse, but now that’s all quick to vanish after you won your duel. Now every man that is fighting for the Greens is filled with admiration and respect for you.

All except Ser Criston, of course. You find him through the crowd gathering around you. He carries a look of disgust as he looks at you in the center of attention after having won a hand-to-hand duel. He hears all the praise in their cheers and sees the way they all crowd around you to be close to you, but he cannot see what they do. You’re like the eye of the storm in a sea, captivating perhaps, calm looking, but you’re completely dangerous and carry the potential to destroy everything in your path just like your mother.

You see straight through that, you note his disgust and don’t get shamed by it. You’re not belittled, you raise your nose in the air and shoot him a malicious smirk before you flash him a grin and turn away to give your attention to the men around you. You relish the praise and the celebration all meant for you.

For a while at least until you’ve had enough and slip away while they’re all busy talking amongst each other, and go in search of Aemond.

However, you find it difficult to find him when he’s not where you last saw him. He’s gone so you have a choice to wait for him to return because you’re sure he will since you’re out here, or you can go find him.

It’s a rather easy decision, you choose the latter as you have a bubbling excitement to talk to Aemond about the way you fought.

Yet when you leave the great hall and find yourself within the dimly lit corridors, you catch Ser Criston talking to Aemond just above a rather pressing whisper. You almost just reveal your presence by joining the pair, but you then catch your name and instead hide behind a wall with Ser Jason listening beside you.

“…too extreme. She cannot be allowed to be doing such barbaric acts. Not in front of the army of men, not in front of servants with slippery tongues.” He says in regards to your duel, and you wait with your breath held for Aemond’s response, hoping he will counter this rather stupid argument that comes from what? Misogyny? Ser Criston has never cared enough to worry about your well-being.

“Why would I do that?” Aemond snaps back, making a slow relieved breath escape past your nose—“She’s a fighter. A warrior with a great capability, far greater than most men here. She’s also a dragonrider, a talented one at that. Why should I care what people think or say about her in regard to her talents? She’s a Targaryen.”

The corner of your lips slowly pulls up whilst you hear feet shuffle against the stone ground.

“She may be all things you say and more, sure, but she is Rhaenyra’s daughter, Aemond. Don’t you see?” Ser Criston argues sharply and with a loss of patience in his tone. “What would the people think when they hear the whispers about her winning battles and duels?”

“I do not care!” Aemond loses his own patience, making butterflies flutter in your stomach at the sound of how desperately he’s defending you against a man who is his mentor, and like a father.

“She is my wife before she is Rhaenyra’s daughter! She is mine!”

“Then think about your unborn children!” Ser Criston cuts Aemond off in that heat of the moment with a sharper tone in his voice that pierces right through Aemond’s quick-rising rage—“It takes one lunge Aemond, one strong hit against her belly and you lose it all. Your legacy is threatened. Everything you’re fighting for will falter if you lose them over something you can prevent by keeping her away from these duels and battle plans.”

There’s a moment of silence that grows tense for you as you await Aemond’s response like waiting for bad or good news. Then again that is what it is to you, no matter how hard you may fight, Aemond still holds a lot of power over you. You see it, you recognize it, and you slightly fear it only because of the insecurities you hold for being pushed aside and locked away like some exotic bird only needed to be gawked at.

“But that’s it, Ser Criston,” Aemond responds clearly and calmly. Which is far more frightening than if he spoke with anger clinging onto his voice. “If it’s a choice between them and her. I chose her. Legacy be damned. We can always make more.” He finishes with a soft huff before you hear his heels turn against the stone and then click against the hard surface louder and louder as he approaches where you hide, making you bold and step out of the shadows.

When you’re under the revealing fire casting down from the walls, Aemond comes to an immediate halt and his eyes widen as his heart seems to fall to his stomach.

“Ser Criston,” you greet dryly at the man at the end of the corridor, making him avert his gaze and bow his head.

You pierce your glare into him until he escapes down the other corridor, letting you then face Aemond with a softer gaze that brings a sweet smile to your face.

“You heard?” He asks.

You nod without hesitation or shame. “I did. You are arguing in a corridor.”

He holds your gaze and then hums before he starts to walk, making you walk with him at the same pace.

“Thank you, I appreciate you supporting my decisions to be involved,” you say sweetly and reach for his hand, realizing at that moment how stiff he is, but not questioning it, just thinking it’s this castle and its eeriness.

“By the way I’m going to scout on Astraea, make sure there’s nothing lurking in the forest,” you bring up hopefully.

“Alright,” he gives in, making you beam at him before you lean in and press a kiss on his cheek.

“I won’t be long.” You assure him. “I will make sure to not engage in anything that might give me away this time. Swear.”

Aemond scoffs softly in amusement and strokes your knuckles with his thumb before the cold air hits his hand when you pull away and hurry down the hall to go to your dragon. Yet as fast as you are he catches up to you to watch you leave and make sure that what? You don’t slip off the rope ladders hanging on Astraea’s side?

Whatever the reason he follows you until he reaches an arch that leads to Astraea resting on the side of a hill. He stays leaning against it as you mount your dragon and ascend to the grey skies. It’s only once the sight of you is lost amongst the clouds that he turns away.

Nevertheless, when he faces the courtyard in front of the weirwood tree he comes to an immediate halt when he sees him again. A ghost haunting him since the moment he stepped foot in this haunting castle. It’s Lucerys Velaryon once again, standing there with a shadow cast behind him, looking at him with a pointed gaze, and a disappointed frown.

Like the other times before he doesn’t say a word, he just stands there watching him, as if threatening him, overlooking every action he takes. Especially when it comes to you. Like many times before he feels the need to react, to tell him to go away, but before he can part his lips he comes to his senses and realizes he’s not real. He's just some illusion. So with that thought in mind, he intends to walk away, but then the unexpected happens, Lucerys eyes drift up and he watches something in the sky.

Aemond doesn’t want to pay him any mind, but as if he has no control he slowly looks up and sees you returning.

You must’ve forgotten something or seen something.

Thus he turns back around to return to the arch and wait for you to land, but the moment he faces that arch Lucerys is standing under it, watching him again quietly until suddenly he parts his lips and it’s as if he’s really there. “You’re going to kill her.”

Aemond turns away swiftly but there Lucerys is again!

“Just like you killed me.”

“It was an accident!” Aemond barks out and storms toward Lucerys until he’s before him. “It was an accident,” he says quieter but through gritted teeth as his irritation heightens.

“Was it an accident when you slashed her cheek?”

“Yes.” He answers without hesitation or deceit because it was a stupid accident.

“How about when you seeked the company of that whore?” Lucerys quickly counters, making Aemond grow quiet this time and letting Lucerys continue. “It's inevitable, that’s who you are. What you are. You will be her death.”

Aemond shakes his head as his eye quickly wells with tears. “No,” his voice cracks. “You’re wrong. She means much more to me than you ever did. I ride the biggest dragon! I am a skilled swordsman! She will not die by my watch! She will not die. No. She’s mine.”

Lucerys chuckles dryly, causing Aemond to look him up and down with a curled lip.

“Keep telling yourself she won’t die if that’s what helps you sleep—”

“I will not send her away!” Aemond bellows back before Lucerys can finish. “Her mother lied to her and pushed her away! Her grandfather prefers bastards over his own kin! There’s no place for her to go! She’s safe here with me because I will not harm her. You’re wrong! You’re dead!”

Lucerys nods. “I am, but you’re wrong, her mother loves her, you know that. Just like you know she’ll welcome my sister back with open arms. That’s the difference between you and her.”

Aemond shakes his head. “Her place is here with me,” he whispers with a quiver in his voice.

Once again Lucerys nods as if assuring Aemond’s claim before he whispers this time. “Okay.”

Aemond blinks repeatedly to blink away the tears, but at that moment he hears it, a screech ripping through the air. He snaps his head up and right away he is welcomed with the horrifying sight of an arrow pierced through Astraea’s eye, killing her instantly, and setting her plummeting to the lake behind the Godswood.

Aemond gasps your name and before he could even think he sets off toward the lake, forgetting the ghost haunting him, and only thinking about you, hoping—no, praying that you are okay.

He can’t fathom Lucerys being right, he can’t let himself imagine your death. It terrifies him to his very core, so as he runs and runs as fast as his long legs can carry him, he builds up the illusion that you can survive that fall, and that you will just hit that water and walk to shore with a beating heart, and just simply shaken up.

He doesn’t think of the realistic outcome. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t! Not even when he makes it to the Gods Eye and sees your body washing up ashore. He just tricks himself into thinking you’re passed out, he ignores the blood running out of your mouth and your nose. He ignores how lifeless your body looks when he drags you out of the water and cradles you there on the sandy ground.

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he whispers as he wipes the blood and the water off your face.

You won’t open your eyes, but that will take time, he tells himself, so he waits. He keeps you in his arms and keeps wiping off the blood that keeps running out of you. Even if his hands get covered in the thick crimson liquid he keeps wiping it off your face, hoping that with his gentle touches, you’ll wake.

But you don’t. Your eyes stay closed, your chest keeps still, and the heart in your chest that he keeps feeling with his palm remains lifeless.

“Wake up,” he whispers and leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Come on. I have you, you’re okay now…” he trails off and lowers his gaze to wait for a breath to escape you, but your lips remain closed, and your nostrils unmoving.

“It’s not funny,” he hisses. “Wake up!”

He waits desperately. Pathetically so, but you don't laugh, or break into a smile. Your face is stiff, slowly proving his worst fear. “Please don’t do this to me, my love. Please, please.”

Tears run down his cheeks before he has a chance to process that they were building up, while his chest is hit with the worst pain he’s ever felt in his life. And the only way he can expel a fraction of that suffering that torments him so is by letting a wail rip out from the depths chest; one so broken and raw that his throat and chest hurt altogether. It’s so unlike him to let out such an emotion so loudly but there’s no other way to express what he feels inside and what makes it hard to breathe with how choked up he gets.

And yet he tries to keep pleading, he calls out your name over and over again with every word trembling and accompanied by a tear.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your lips. “I’m sorry. Please, I can’t…I can’t keep roaming this world without you. It won’t make sense. Please.”

“I told you,” he hears Lucerys whisper, hitting him with a burning fury. Yet when he snaps his head back Lucerys is not there. It’s that strange woman, Alys, looking at him with that same frown Lucerys carried, but a different look in her eyes than Lucerys’. She looks at him without fear, no respect, just a shameless icy look.

“You have to help her,” he ignores her piercing glare and glances back at you to reposition you in his arms so he can get up, but when he looks back at his arms where he once held you, you’re gone and the blood that once covered his hands is also gone. He then looks over at the lake in search of Astraea, but nothing is in the water. You’re not even in the sky…

It was all…fake…

It was all a cruel trick, but one that helps him realize what he must do in regards to you, so you don’t suffer the fate he just saw.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Conversations with Alys reminds me of how young mc really is.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens

[erideights]

With my 6th sense. (1)

Pairing: Hunter x fem! jedi reader

Rating: this is the first chapter let's take it slow

Wordcount: 2.2K

Chapters: (2) (3) (4)* (5)* (*not posted yet)

Warnings and tags: use of (Y/N) but I keep it as minimum as possible tho my writing style is in 3rd person, so it's a bit difficult! apart from that none really, just introduction to the story, slight mentions of war maybe, but i can already tell you, this will be an ''i hate you-to-love you'' (calling them enemies doesn't really fit in)

Summary: (This story happens about around a year before The Bad Batch is introduced in The Clone Wars) Another day, another suicide mission for the squad. This time commanded by a jedi general they've never hear about.

A/N: I'm back after MONTHS with a new hyperfixation and no one can stop me. I'm jumping really late to TBB ship but I guess I would give it a try. Or write it for myself. As always, I'll make it a small series, and I hope all of you will enjoy it ♥ (my main language is not english so sorry if there are some mistakes)

Side note: PLEASE read the intro with the voice of The Clone Wars intro, thanks.

Coruscant!

In the aftermath of the Republic's recent defeat in the growing war in the outer rim, the Jedi Order finds itself at a crossroads, and generals such as Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and (Y/N) convene to strategize their next move in a desperate bid to stop the advance of the Separatist invasions. As they discuss their next course of action, each voice carries the weight of the galaxy's fate. For the Republic's survival hangs in the balance, and only through unity and courage can they hope to emerge victorious against the relentless onslaught of their enemies.

"Feels like they can predict our every move," Master Mace Windu exhales, his eyes glued to the holomap of the base, his hand thoughtfully stroking his chin. The dim light of the briefing room casts a stern shadow on his face, reflecting the gravity of the situation.

"And it's not just that," Obi-Wan interjects, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. "During our last mission, Anakin and I encountered a new type of battle droid..." He sighs heavily, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the memory. His eyes narrow as he recalls the encounter. "This droid kept its distance, observing us while we dealt with all the others. By the time it engaged, it had analyzed, memorized, and adapted to our combat patterns. It knew exactly how to dodge our attacks and counterattack almost instantly."

"Are you serious?" (Y/N) asks, her brows furrowed in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest. That sounds like a nightmare. Sure, a sniper could take it out from a distance, but up close? For them Jedi, trained in close combat, it could be a real pain in the ass.

"Yeah, and that's putting it mildly," Obi-Wan replies, his voice tinged with worry. "Anakin believes it's still in the development phase. The droid's assembly was far from perfect, almost like it was a prototype. But if they keep working on it, refining it... it could become a serious threat."

The room falls into a tense silence, so thick it almost feels suffocating. The three Jedi and Commander Cody, standing to Obi-Wan's right and always ready to offer some tactical advice, know what this means: if they want to halt the development of these new droids, or at least stay a step ahead, they need to steal the blueprints, and the Separatist droid blueprints are securely kept in…

"Looks like one lucky squad’s gonna have the great honor of infiltrating Serenno," the younger Jedi breaks the silence with a touch of sarcasm, tapping a few buttons on the holo-map to display the planet in question. Almost unexplored, impossible to get ships close enough to scan it completely.

"That’s too reckless," Windu comments immediately.

"It’s a suicide mission," Obi-Wan agrees.

"It’s risky, but not impossible."

"You spend way too much time with Anakin."

"Actually, Anakin spends too much time with me," she corrects with a playful smirk, crossing her arms again and leaning back against one of the control panels behind her.

"If I may…" Cody interjects, stepping forward and nodding to formally request the floor. Windu acknowledges him with a nod of his own. "A mission like this needs a small team. No more than four or five soldiers, with one of you leading. And I know just the squad for the job."

"The 501st?" Windu asks, his brow raised, well aware of the battalion’s formidable reputation.

"No," Cody shakes his head, his helmet tucked under his left arm. "Clone Force 99. I've worked with them before. They’re elite commandos, defective clones with desirable and really convenient mutations. Their success rate on high-risk missions is 100%."

"But...?" (Y/N) catches a deep, well hidden hint of hesitation in the commander's voice and refuses to let it slide. She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side to scrutinize him closely.

"But," Cody clears his throat, aware of how his words might sound for the Jedi, "let’s just say they’re an unconventional squad. Their methods don’t exactly mesh well with captains, commanders, or generals who aren’t flexible or willing to...improvise on the fly, or disregard orders from above."

"That description sounds vaguely familiar," Obi-Wan remarks, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he blatantly turns his head to look at her. She purses her lips and shrugs, as if the comment had nothing to do with her peaceful persona.

"I just like being practical, and let’s be honest, plans usually never work out as we would like them to. Following orders isn’t always the best option on the table when the situation becomes a life or death type of scenario."

"I think we’ve found the perfect person to lead this mission," Obi-Wan concludes, a knowing smile spreading across his face.

(Y/N) and Obi-Wan then turn their gaze towards Windu, who appears to be deeply pondering the situation. It’s a dangerous mission, far too dangerous. Infiltrating Serenno could be compared to a Separatist squadron trying to infiltrate Coruscant right now. Reckless, not worthy at all. And even though she has proven her capabilities time and again, earning the respect of the Jedi Council since before she was knighted, this exceeds the usual risks they take. But at the same time, if they don't do it, they could lose more than just a squad—and with bad luck, a Jedi.

"Go ahead," Windu finally says, his tone decisive.

"Great, infiltrating the heart of enemy territory is always my favorite kind of mission," she quips, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, a smirk tugging at her lips.

...

"I had no clue there were defective clones out there," Obi-Wan remarks, arms folded, his gaze scanning the distant skyline of Coruscant from the base.

"Me neither, but the whole idea of working with a bunch or weird, mutant clones sounds fascinating," (Y/N) replies without missing a beat, a spark of excitement lighting up her eyes as she contemplates leading such an unconventional mission. She's still one of the few Jedi without a permanent legion or squad under her command, always bouncing from one assignment to another, going wherever she's needed as reinforcement. A bit like the 99, Cody thinks, observing both Jedi with a smile playing on his lips.

"You're about to find out just how interesting they can be, General."

And as if his statement was a cue and they were living in a movie, a shuttle rockets onto the landing pad, causing chaos among the ground crew. Its engines roar as it touches down, sending crates of military gear flying through the air like confetti at a parade.

"Someone just lost their flight rights." She mutters, a wide grin spreading across her face. Obi-Wan -ever so subtle- smirks beside her, wondering which of those so-called elite defective clones managed to botch a landing so badly. Did they miss their flying lessons?

The ramp of the shuttle, which she discovers it's heavily customized now that she can take a better look at it, slowly lowers, revealing four individuals waiting to come out, each more particular than the last. Their armor, adorned in black and red, seems customized to what (Y/N) guesses are their individual strengths and quirks.

The first one down the ramp, still wearing his helmet, glances around as if assessing the potential damage done to the landing pad. From his body language alone, she would expect him to be the genius who managed that landing. What she doesn’t expect, though, is his face under the helmet. Actually, none of theirs.

"Well, they certainly don’t look like clones," Obi-Wan comments a bit louder than intended, but he's right. They all share a distant resemblance to the regular clones—maybe like... distant cousins—but if they weren’t in the army, you’d never guess they were clones at all. Each one of them is… unique, and they’ve already piqued (Y/N)’s curiosity even before a proper introduction.

"Commander," one of them greets Cody as soon as the squad reaches them, raising a hand to shake his own. His long, dark, wavy hair is already distinctive enough, but his tattooed face really adds to his intimidating persona. He truly looks like someone who could kill you in a matter of seconds if he wanted to. 

"Good to see you, Sergeant. It’s been a while. This is Jedi General (Y/N)," Cody introduces her, and she nods at them with a charming small smile plastered on her face. "She'll be leading this suicide mission and will be your only reinforcement this time."

It might just be her imagination, really, but she could swear the clone Cody referred to as sergeant is not exactly happy with the sudden news about the mission’s command. Feeling as if a speeder had just run over her a thousand parsecs per hour, and judging by the way he suddenly looks her up and down to the speed of light, silently analyzing her, she'd say this strong feeling of rejection she perceives through the Force, comes from him.

Awh, she didn’t even open her mouth yet and she’s already made a new friend. How cute.

"General," he nods politely, like any good soldier would have done, but with this… noticeable detachment in his manner. "Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force 99. These are Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair." He introduces his team one by one, each giving the Jedi a quick glance and a nod.

‘’Let me guess,’’ she starts, biting the inside of her cheek before pointing with one of her right fingers to each one of them. ‘’you’re fast and probably have better sight or hearing. You, on the other hand, are the smart one.’’ The jedi refers to Tech, who is clearly and unashamedly the brains of the squad. Those glasses and the datapad he constantly checks? A walking stereotype. He nods in agreement, tho, while Hunter tries to roll his eyes without being noticed. And miserably fails, but she doesn’t pay attention to it. ‘’You’re the strong one, and you’re the sniper.’’ And she’s sure she doesn’t need to point out why, how, she knows that; the target tattoo around his eye blatantly giving him away.

"Wait, you're a Jedi?" Wrecker, the burliest of the group and seemingly the cute, dumb one, asks with a hint of disbelief as he eyes her hair and attire. She quickly realizes that her dark and tactical outfit—cargo pants, military boots, a snug top with protective padding on her shoulders and a tight vest—doesn't exactly scream "Jedi." But she's always been more comfortable on the front lines than behind the clones she commands, and a robe would just get in the way during a fight. Obi-Wan's still not happy about that.

"Yeah, last time I checked," she replies with a smile, his enthusiasm infectious as she meets Wrecker's gaze. His expression widens, as happy and excited as a kid in a candy store.

"Isn't that awesome, Sergeant? We're gonna see some of those Force tricks up close," Wrecker adds eagerly, nudging his fellow clone.

"Yeah, awesome," Hunter mutters, seemingly uninterested in the conversation as he quickly changes the subject. What's his problem? "So, General, what kind of death trap are we heading into this time?"

"I'll fill you in on all the details on our way; the journey will be long," She answers, shrugging nonchalantly, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Then let's get going!" Wrecker exclaims again, and his whole squad follows him back to the shuttle after a quick farewell to Cody. (Y/N) can't help but notice the way the proclaimed sergeant's eyes lingered on her for just a couple seconds before turning away, wondering about the coldness she feels emanating from him towards her. If their paths had crossed on another mission, she would have remembered, and even so, she's always the life of the party on any mission! She might take offense if she wasn't used to not fitting in even among her own. At least, she tells herself as she exhales a soft sigh, he's attractive, so she'll deal with the mission and his shitty attitude by enjoying his pretty face as a reward for her outstanding patience.

"You're staring," Obi-Wan scolds her under his breath, witnessing their previous interaction, giving the younger Jedi a gentle elbow nudge.

"Being a Jedi means not getting attached, not gouging your eyes out and depriving yourself of good views," she responds without missing a beat, smiling charmingly at him. She's so cheeky, Obi-Wan thinks to himself, exactly like her old master, Kit Fisto.

"Ah, -I completely forgot-, wait!" The Jedi calls out to Clone Force 99, causing everyone to freeze and turn to look at her. "Before we go, you guys need to change your clothes."

The clones look at each other, confused. Wrecker is the first to speak up. "What’s wrong with our gear?"

She steps forward, arms crossed. "Nothing if you want to stick out like a rancor in a china shop. We're going undercover."

Hunter narrows his eyes slightly, not exactly liking what he just heard. "And what exactly do you suggest, General?"

She smirks, his reluctance kinda funny to her. "Something a bit less... militaristic. Follow me, I'll show you where you can get changed."

Wrecker shrugs, clearly unfazed. "As long as I don't have to wear a dress," he jokes, eliciting a low chuckle from Crosshair. ''those never have pockets, and I need to carry some grenades.''

Hunter, on the other hand, remains stoic, his gaze fixed on the jedi, his now general during this mission. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, maybe even distrust—but he nods. "Lead the way."

And as they do as being told, Obi-Wan falls into step beside her. "You sure about this?"

She nods, her expression determined. "Absolutely, what could go wrong?"

[sc0tters]

What’s Best For You | Adam Fantilli

summary: with the draft hanging over Adam’s head and the view of you getting on with another man brings the end of your relationship, but what happens when you two see each other again?

request: yes/no

warnings: none

prompt: “if you leave don’t come back.”

word count: 2.21k

authors note: I wasn’t planning on writing this one but Adam got the hatty yesterday and I figured we should celebrate him. This isn’t like my normal writing as I got the whole idea for the prompt at like 2 in the morning and just went with it. If you want to see more from the 500 celly you can do so here!

The topic of the draft hung over you both like a bad smell that you couldn’t shake.

Each time one of you brought it up the other would change the subject usually muttering on about how “fate would take its course” or “it’s out of our control so let’s not worry.” But tonight Adam seemed like he was on a mission.

You two had left a party early after Adam saw JJ flirting with you. Now the Fantilli boy wasn’t jealous, he knew you would never cross that line with another man because you loved Adam.

But there was something about that image that he couldn’t stop thinking about. From the way the blonde laughed at your jokes or how your eyes lit up when you saw him.

At first Adam thought you were just friends who had a few classes together, yet that was exactly how you met Adam.

And after nights of staying up wondering what he was meant to do about leaving you, it seemed that tonight he finally had his answer “why are you saying this?” You asked pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

Adam had tried to explain it to you for the fifth time but you still refused to hear his message “I can’t love you the way some guys here can if I’m on the west coast.” Adam sighed as he was predicted to go second to the Ducks all the way in Anaheim.

Whilst the boy loved you with all of his heart, to the point where you were the only thing his mind thought of when he woke up and when he went to sleep. Adam came to the conclusion that evening, that it wasn’t fair to expect you to do that long distance relationship.

Tears formed in your eyes “that’s meant to be something I decide, not you Adam!” Your voice broke as you finally realised what was going on here.

Adam was about to break up with you.

It felt like a slap in the face, the man you loved more than you ever thought you could love anyone was telling you that the last six months was all for nothing.

As much as he wanted to hug you and kiss those tears away the hockey player knew that he couldn’t, instead he had to watch them roll down your cheeks “I should go y/n.” Adam’s words had your feet dragging your body towards him.

There was no baby, darling, love, princess that fell from his lips. No, now you were simply just y/n the name you had your entire life now felt bland and boring.

You shook your head “tell me you love me.” You mumbled feeling the sadness replaced by this sense of hurt “tell me that this is all just a dream and that when I wake up you’ll be by my side.” As sobs got stuck in your throat you cut yourself off “I can’t lose you Adam.” You cried finally letting go as his silence seemed to serve as the stark reminder of the reality that was hitting you with the same strength as the cold Michigan winter air when you walk outside in the morning.

The boy shook his head “it’s for the best,” he repeated cupping your cheeks with his hands as he titled your head up so that he could kiss your forehead.

A tear from his eyes landed on your hair soaking the soft strands as his hands dropped to his sides “goodbye sweets,” Adam forced the words from his lips digging his nails into his palms as he stared at you for one final time.

Acting like he didn’t have your face memorised, each scar, each spot, each dimple, he could pinpoint them all. But this time he just wanted to see you, even if it had to be with tears streaming down your face.

As you watched Adam turn around and head back to your dorm door, the pain you were feeling morphed into anger. You were angry at how easily he was willing to give up on you two without giving you a proper reason why, how he made you feel like the only girl in the world to only go and pull the plug on it all when you least expected it. What pissed you off the most was that he had all of these opportunities to break up with you and decided that the last party of the school year was the best option “if you leave now, you better not come back.” The warning in your tone came through as Adam stopped in his tracks.

Not a single coherent thought went through his brain as all he wanted to do was turn around and kiss you whilst he told you just how stupid he was. But instead Adam simply shook his head before he walked out of your room leaving you confused, drunk and upset.

That was two months ago and Adam wanted to call you every minute of every day but he didn’t. Every time he did something he only wanted to tell you about it, but he couldn’t.

Not even you were posting things from your families lake house with none other that JJ McCarthy.

Adam knew that your lake houses were at the same lake literally two minutes away from each other because the day you learnt about it you went and told Adam all about it.

A giggle left your lips as JJ placed his hand on your shoulder “I’ve got to get to practice,” he groaned seeing the clock on the dining hall wall.

You nodded sending him a smile “I’ll see you later J,” you waved watching him nod “bye y/n.” JJ sent you a salute before he walked off.

Adam was quick to walk over to you when he realised you were now alone “what was all that about baby?” He asked leaning down to peck your lips.

Again Adam wasn’t jealous, he felt like you could be friends with anyone that your heart could dream of. But the way JJ looked at you was what made his skin crawl “JJ lives down the road from the lake house in the summer!” You explained locking your hand with his as you began walking back the boys table.

“Funny that right?” You added totally unaware of how Adam was.

To him it had to take an idiot to see that JJ liked you, and part of Adam couldn’t even blame JJ for it, you were a total catch that any guy would be lucky to get.

You stared at the picture of Adam and Luca in their suits that the older Fantilli had uploaded to his close friends story “look we don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to.” JJ sighed seeing you frown.

The draft was one thing you always watched with your grandad who now wasn’t here, so as much as you didn’t want to see Adam you weren’t doing this for him “no I’m good.” You forced a smile onto your lips.

JJ decided to not question you further as he let the volume of the tv go louder as you two watched the third pick. The boy suggested that you only started watching then to avoid seeing Adam “the Columbus Blue Jackets are proud to announce from the University of Michigan Adam Fantilli!” Your eyes went wide seeing your ex get up “what about Anaheim?” You croaked feeling yourself grow sick.

Before the boy had the chance to check on you your body pushed off the couch as you ran to the bathroom.

It had been over eight months since you had been into the Yost and the place you grew to love in your freshman year now felt foreign “if you want to leave let me know.” You felt guilty with how good JJ had been to you since the school year started.

The boy had been good to you as he always made sure you were okay. Whether it was being your company at a party or simply just checking in on you, JJ had grown to hold a special place in your heart but that didn’t make you feel any sense of comfort.

Truth was that you longed for Adam, your roommate had to go as far as delete Adam’s number from your phone after you tried calling him drunk one evening.

You sent JJ a nod as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders giving you a comforting squeeze “he isn’t here anyways.” You pointed out assuming that Adam was with his team celebrating the win against the Redwings in Detroit.

But of course the universe had to prove you wrong as the jumbotron picked up your conversation with JJ flashing your faces on the big screen. You let out a laugh pointing at it “you okay Adam?” Julia asked her son seeing the frown on his face.

Adam nodded forcing a smile on his face “she looks happy,” he shrugged trying to ignore the painful feeling that shot through his chest.

The games end came fast as the wolverines shut out Minnesota. You wanted to drag JJ out of there as you heard the rumours that Adam was there but the football star seemed to have other plans as he forced the excuse that Dylan had something for the boy.

You practically hid behind him as you didn’t know what you were going to do if you saw Adam, your brain couldn’t decide if you preferred the idea of hugging him or cursing him for putting you through the pain that he had done so.

But before you could think about it any further JJ dropped a bombshell on you “I’m going to give you guys a moment.” He mumbled moving to the side so you could lock eyes with Adam and Luca who seemed to be having a similar conversation.

Before you knew it Adam was awkwardly stood in front of you “hey,” you mumbled shoving your hands into the Michigan hoodie to hat was undeniably something you stole from Adam all those months ago.

The Fantilli boy just took the moment to stare at you and your feature as he took in how beautiful you looked “hi.” The hockey player smiled fiddling with the watch on his wrist.

It irritated you how Adam didn’t seem to feel the pain you felt, you had concealer caked beneath your eyes to avoid revealing your dark circles from that lack of sleep “how is your boyfriend?” That comment only aggravated you further as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“JJ is just my friend you dickhead.” You spat causing the boy’s eyes to go wide.

He had to say that he was surprised to hear that you were still single as that little part of him selfishly hoped that you were still in love with him “some of us find it harder to move on when we get dumped out of the blue than others.” You knew it was low but you sent the blow anyways as you had seen all of the rumours and all of the TikTok’s about Adam’s new lovers as he was seen as the dream boy of Columbus.

Adam let out a laugh causing you to cross your arms “this isn’t funny Adam.” You grumbled frowning as your now upset look was clearly highlighted.

Just like how he used to Adam cupped your cheeks forcing you to look at him “all those girls try and I can’t seem to shut up about you.” Adam’s confession had your eyebrows raising in surprise.

In all honesty you truly thought that he broke up with you so he could pursue other things when he left, or at least that was how you liked to think about it because it was easier to try to hate him for leaving you.

Your lips formed a pout “really?” It weirdly warmed your heart to hear that news. Adam nodded as he smiled “thought it was for the best ending it but the truth is I’m still crazy about you.” Adam mumbled tucking your hair behind your ear.

If anyone could see how you were feeling on the inside they’d call you pathetic as you were grinning from ear to ear “I’m sorry for leaving you baby.” Adam sighed wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into a hug.

You let his familiar cologne invade your nostrils as you melted into his arms “I just want you back.” Most people would have been ashamed to be that open with the guy that dumped them, but for you this was simply just what your heart needed to be brought to ease after all of those late nights crying yourself to sleep.

Adams hands went back to your chin tilting your head up to see his face eyes “you never lost me.” With those words he brought his lips down to yours.

As you felt your body grow warm at that familiar feeling of his lips on yours, you both knew that your were right back where you needed to be. With him in your arms and you in his even if it was under the lights of the Yost arena, you were both home.

[rottenroyalebooks]

Love Drunk - 0.1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x older sister!Harrington reader

Also includes: Steve Harrington x sister!reader (siblings)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N Harrington left Hawkins as soon as she turned eighteen with her boyfriend to follow her dreams of being a Rockstar. Three years later, she returns to Hawkins alone and scarred. Now, she has to repair her broken relationship with her younger brother, all while trying to prevent herself from falling for a cute metal head who plays at the Hideout, where she works.

Warnings: None.

Next ->

Driving back to Hawkins, Indiana, was the last thing I thought I would do.

I wouldn't say I liked this hellhole and got away as soon as possible. I never wanted to see the all-too-familiar roads and trees filled with bad memories.

Why did I come back here if I hated this place so much? My life fell apart underneath my feet, and I had no choice.

The drive was long and taxing, but I had a caravan from the 60s that still worked beautifully, so I didn't have to stay in any motels. I left California with a few boxes of my possessions and my black and white Saint Bernard Baxter, and we hit the open road together. It was a long trip, but eventually, I pulled into the driveway of my family home, which was pitch black.

Being late into the night, I was not surprised that the house was dark. I pulled my van into the backyard so it wouldn't be seen by anyone who drove by. I turned my van off and climbed into the back of my caravan, grabbing my travel bag and waking Baxter up so he wouldn't be sleeping outside in the cold.

I tried the back door, but it was locked, so I had to grab the spare key that was always kept underneath my mother's favorite garden gnome. I scoffed, showing the key to Baxter, who tilted his head. "See? They're predictable."

Once I unlocked the door and returned the key to its hiding place, I crept into the kitchen slowly, with Baxter trailing behind me and lazily trudging around. I poked my head into the garage, seeing it bare of any cars, and scoffed, "Nobody's home? They're probably away on business again." I pulled myself back into the house and closed the door.

I started thinking about my little brother Steve. He must have been nineteen, probably off at some fancy university far away from this town. Good for him.

I found my way to my old bedroom, letting Baxter in with promises of bedtime, and closed the door behind me. The room had barely been touched, though my parents were never home enough to care about what had happened. My bed was a mess, my posters were still on the walls, my desk was nearly covered in junk, my old makeup lay on the dresser, and my records were still in a box I had put together.

Sighing happily, I put my backpack on a chair and watched as Baxter jumped onto my bed, making himself as comfortable as possible. I sat on the bed next to my nightstand, which held the phone I had begged my parents to put in for me. I picked it up, hearing the dial tone and beeping as I pressed one of the few numbers I had memorized.

I pressed the phone to my ear, listening to the ringing. Finally, after a few rings, there's a male voice coming from the receiver, "I swear to god, somebody better be dead if you have the bright idea of calling me at three in the fucking morning."

I held back a laugh, "Jim! Hey, it's Y/N,"

I could almost feel his mood lighten, "Y/N? I never thought I'd hear your voice again! How've you been, kid?"

"Could be better. it could be worse. I'm back in town wondering if the pub needs a bartender."

He hummed lightly, "Luckily for you, Paul retired two weeks ago, and I've been having trouble finding decent help. You got any experience bartending?"

I smiled, thankful that he didn't push my return further, "I was a bartender for three years. I kept my nights busy."

"Perfect, you're hired. Can I go back to bed now?"

Giggling, I nodded, knowing he couldn't see me, "Yes, yes, sorry for calling so late. Goodnight, Jim." I placed the phone in the receiver and began stretching, getting myself ready to sleep.

My peace didn't last very long as my door swung open, revealing none other than my little brother, who wasn't so little anymore, welding a baseball bat in his hands. I jumped slightly and held my hands up in surrender, "Whoa, whoa! Steve?"

He stared at me, his features melting into a look of surprise, "Y/N?" He kept the bat high up in the air.

The two of us spoke in unison, "What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first, twerp."

He looked at me with an exasperated expression, "I'm literally the one with the bat."

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest as the adrenaline died down, "I have an attack dog. Don't make me sick him on you."

He glanced behind me, looking at Baxter; smirking, he just looked back at me as he lowered the bat, "Oh yeah, he's an attack dog alright."

I looked over my shoulder and turned to look at Baxter, who laid there unbothered; passed out nearly dead to the world. If it weren't for the slow rise and fall of his upper body, I would have thought he was dead.

"I could be facing an actual murder right now, and you would just be blissfully aware until you woke up to see my dead body."

Steve sighed, "N/N, what happened?"

I turned back to him, "I'm back in Hawkins. Mom and Dad don't need to know. Hopefully, I'll find a place of my own soon. Trust me, you'll barely know I'm here."

He just stared at me, his expression unreadable as he contiplated my words. He grew a lot since I last saw him. His hair was shorter back then. He was shorter. He's no longer the scrawney kid I had to protect in my senior year, when he was merely a freshman.

I probably looked different, too, but in other ways.

"I should probably get some rest, I have an early shift." He awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, kid. We'll talk later,  I want to know everything I've missed." I smirked, grabbing the covers and pulling them over my legs, "Hit the lights on the way out?"

He chuckled lightly, nodding, "Yeah, goodnight, Melody." He baked out of the doorframe, flipping the lights off for me before closing the door, leaving me to stare up at the ceiling; which still had the glow in the dark stars on it.

Baxter rolled over a bit, cuddling into my side as we got comfortable in my bed.

[diluclover300]

Just One Week (1)

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Also posted on my ao3 account: diluclover300

CHAPTER INDEX:

I H8 U

My Kinda Fun

Balance

{S] Awake

Eggs and Rice

Wait, but I'm broke

Couple's Discount

CHAPTER 1: I H8 U

...

Ha. Ha. You roll your eyes, arms crossed before they unfold again. The elevator opens and you're back at the lobby of the building again. Ha. Ha. 

You hate this place. Normal was so ordinary. So predictable. So boring. Blah!

Whatever, whatever, whatever. You just want to go home already. It's been a long day at work. 

You walk, as the general population does, because even though you're special, and so different, you're human before any of that bull crap. Genetically, you're a programmed sheep. Mentally, you stick out like a sore thumb. 

And you walk with the help of wired earbuds, ones that you grabbed at the nearest department store. You understand why people can't leave the house without these babies. They're so convenient, a socially accepted escape from the real world. 

Selfishly, as it should be, you're listening to the same sickly sweet, syrupy-lyric filled song. Generic, yet so stupid catchy that even a zombie would dumbly mumble it in its sleep. With it's unintelligible voice, muddy and groggy as it lowly moans the melody. Like pure mush, frothing with spit. 

Love. Love. Love. A boyband, the popular one you've loved since highschool, is singing about what sells— sex. Oh, baby. I want you. I love you. Give me all of you. Kiss me until I can't breath, wrap me with your heat. 

You understand the gist of it, don't you? Because you certainly do. 

Bouncy, your steps are, almost preppy that you feel like everyone else. You suppose that's fine for now. You're forcibly, undeniably put into a swarm of people. People that will always be like you. Vise versa. It's the way of life. 

Same old. 

Beep. Your lanyard scans across the kind of thing you'd see in a new-york subway. Too bad you're across the globe in Japan, in some remote town, so you don't live miles away from the famous–or was it infamous– you don't know, times square. Boring. 

You suck in a hefty amount of hair, and it's humiliating when you push the door that so politely–and obviously— asks to be pulled. Wow. You turn back to confirm that no one has just seen you do that. But you're suddenly biting back another heap of cringe mixed with embarrassment when you realize that someone behind you blankly stares at you. Probably to hurry up so that they could get out too.

"Oops." You laugh, but they don't. "Sorry about–"

"Are you going to open that door?"

"Oh, uh, yes. I am."

Right. You pull the handle of the door that you've touched thousands of times.

The breeze hits you and as physics do, your hair whips across your face, sprawling over your dry, cracked lips. You push on, steps now long strides. You're fighting with the wind and it's terrible. 

Welp. That was life. Mother nature wasn't, never was, kind to you. 

Another idiotic event, another "let's make a fool out of Y/N" moment. You fold your arms underneath the crevice of your chest, that white button up so thin you're sure that you've developed hypothermia in the last few minutes you've been walking. 

Another sigh. Then you realize it looks hopeless, and stupid. Then you wipe your cheek, holding your lips together and realize that looks equally awkward. Damn. 

Incident after incident. Mistake after mistake. Everything feels like a math equation, and it's all adding up to make you look a fool. 

At least nothing too terrible happened today.

Then, as if it was clockwork, an ominous feeling began to settle in the depths of your heart. As if your instincts were telling you to run. 

You don't. Your hopes of a normal day, your suspicions of having a great day are so terribly...

Wrong. You look up and see the face that you don't want to see. The face that looks back at you like a mirror, the face who's lips turn up into a slight smile. The face who's glasses tip down his rather long, yet socially accepted nose. The face who's eyes are freakishly blue, who's eyes would receive the predictable comparison– "Hey, your eyes look just like the sky."

This can't be real.

This can't be happening.

Maybe today wasn't destined to be a good day, but there was no way in hell, no way that things could go this south.

A bad day was when you got in trouble during work, when someone's kid spilled your burning hot coffee all over your new white clothes. Bad was when...

Bad was when Gojo Satoru wasn't here. 

Terrible was when he was. 

"Hi." He holds his hand up, palm open, fingers spread into a wave. "It's been a while."

Your chest tightens, air contracting the thing like a damn accordion. He's definitely a fair distance from you, standing beneath the trees, far from the stairs leading up to the building behind you both. Traffic bustles a couple more feet away, and that same song, on repeat, buzzes in your ear like a mosquito.

Love. You seem to feel everything but that at the sight of his face. 

"Gojo." The breeze slaps against your skin, stinging as it leaves it's harsh marks. Your fingers travel down to the hems of your skirt, and you fidget with the cloth. 

You're anxious, not as you envisioned the hundreds of other times you mulled over this sort of situation. Instead of holding your head up high, you're cowering, heart wrenching, the lines you so carefully wrote, seared into your mind escaping your tongue. 

"Gojo?" Ha. Ha. Real funny, you think as he mocks you. 

It makes you angry. Why did he, how did he have, how was he not– where was his shame? After five years? Did he just realize you were gone after all this time? 

You don't want to ask, but you do.

"Why are you–"

"What happened to Satoru? Don't be so formal. It's only been five years."

"The name disgusts me."

You're silent as he steps forward, a bouquet of flowers tucked underneath his armpit. He's decked out in all black, not that you care, or that it's any different from how he was a few years back. If anything, he's the exact same. Unchanged. 

It makes your blood boil. 

"Ah. Look at you. You've changed."

He chides, crouching down as if he's trying to taunt a child. You bite back the strange croak in your throat.

"Your turn. What about me? Say something." 

No. Please. "Don't do this to me." 

His lips, as if pulled by a set of strings, ghost a smile. Those eyes exposed, bare through those glasses as they reflect the pathetic image of you. Your expression which tries to hard to look expressionless. The scrunch of your eyebrows as you look down at him. 

No, he's looking down on you. Even though it should be the opposite. 

"You look the same." It's robotic, the usual cadence of your voice he so remembers void of emotion. 

It's true. He does. 

"Oh? You're cold. So cold." He tilts his head, a strand of hair falling in between his eyes as he gives you a slight pout. 

And, you? You're not the same as you were before. 

"I know." You step back. "People tell me that all the time."

You feel so... so...

Was pathetic the right word? It didn't even do the situation justice.

Wow. Honestly, you never wanted to admit this, but you've always imagined this sort of thing happening. A reunion, to put it simply and you'd always imagine such witty responses, such great comebacks. 

However, you're no different from everyone else. Not underneath the umbrella of fear. However, you're not even shielded from those raindrops of confrontation.

You're soaked. The umbrella's defective. You can't bring yourself to say the words you practiced, to put an end to the tortuous fire in your heart. 

Because as much as you want to hear those answers, you're afraid of the void that lies beneath them. 

"Is that something to brag about these days?" He straightens up, the plastic lining of the bouquet crinkling. 

You shrug as answer, but your eyes stick onto the floor like a piece of gum. They've rolled out of their sockets, breeze guiding them along the concrete. 

Satoru whistles for a moment, eyes careful as they study your figure. 

A white button up shirt, tucked into a pencil skirt, glasses that usually wouldn't suit you because you were the contact lens type, flats because he could never imagine you walking down a flight of stairs in heels. 

Though you've fallen to the inevitable concept of change, you're still...

Oh. He's forgot to mention that you've been listening to music this whole time. It's noticeable now. Partly because you're wearing wired headphones, and partly because he can hear the faintest bit of singing coming from your direction. 

"Whatcha listening to?" 

You peek up, and for the first time in years, he's properly– no, you're making eye contact with him. 

"It's the new XXX song. Do you remember when I..."

What the hell? 

He never tried to stop you back then. 

Why would he remember a single thing about you?

"Nevermind." You look away, and he swears he sees the faintest film of water pooling against your eyes. "You wouldn't know."

Yeah. You're the same as ever. 

"Oh. You still like that group?"

You nod, and he swears he can see the faint image of you from highschool. Nodding along to the sound of your mp3 player, busted around the corners as it rests on the edge of your desk, threatening to fall. And when it did, he'd usually catch it before pulling out your earbuds. 

Then you'd grumble at him, call him a "bastard" or a "piece of shit". And he'd laugh, loud enough that people would turn their heads. 

Weird. A wave of nostalgia hits him. 

"Ha." The thought of it makes him snicker. God. He was such an asshole. "Haha."

Look at how the tables turned. It's painful that you're so rough around the edges now. You're barely smiling, and now there's an offended look trespassing your lips and eyes. 

You're angry again. So angry that the image of your smile is trampled on, dirtied by a frown. 

It's like throwing away a perfectly good slice of cake.

Satoru decides he hates it. The look of it is sickening, the thought of it is unappetizing, the existence of it is...

"What are you–"

"Come back to Jujutsu High and help me teach." 

As he expects, and the revelation behind it frustrates him, you've gone completely unresponsive. What he's realized is that you're just existing through your life. 

You've been wasting time. And now you're just going to ignore him. No matter how right he is. 

"Y/N. Can you hear me?"

You don't answer for a long while, slowly ripping out each earbud as you stuff it into the pocket of your shirt. The question, the request is... it's...

Disgustingly selfish. Did he only think for himself? Did he only care for himself?

Of course he did. Of course he did. 

He's Gojo Satoru. 

"Why did you come here? Go home." 

"For you. Come back and be a Jujutsu sorcerer again–" He doesn't waste a singular second, as if he was reading off a script to some terrible horror movie. 

You feel sick. 

"No." You spit out. "You don't know what I want, you can't tell me what to do either."

You want to laugh, you can't believe all this bullshit.

You can't believe that after all the trouble you went through to fit in, you're going back to square one. Like a baby trying to learn how to walk all over again.

All the trouble you went through to convince yourself that you were still special despite being so, despite living so normally now.

All the trouble you went through to ignore those cursed spirits.

All those sacrifices you made, those risks you took. 

You can't believe that it's all going down the drain like this, like your struggles are the water to someone else's shower. 

Could you be easily discarded like that? Like trash? 

Wrong. Incorrect. Wrong. Nothing could be more... wrong.

No, you're different. Important. Nothing like trash. Incomparable. If there was a mold, you'd break it. If there was an expectation, you'd exceed it. If there was...

If there was...

There's nothing because he... he's...

Gojo Satoru is stepping on your sob story like it's a  piece of gum, smearing it with the sole of his shoe. 

He tries to intervene with your peace, picking apart at your facade, your play-pretend act of tranquility. 

"I know what you want–"

You don't even give him the chance to finish. 

"It's been five years."

He knows. You don't have to remind him that it's been that long. 

"So?"

"You don't know a thing about me, Gojo."

"I do." He steps forward. "And what do those people back there know about you?" Then he points back at your workplace. 

You grimace, aware that what you're about to say is an obvious, a bitter lie. He knows it too, but you say it anyway. 

"They know a lot about me." You bite back, desperately trying to save face. "So much more than you do."

When you force that out, it dawns on you. The fact that you have to lie about something so insignificant to prove that you're doing just fine to some asshole you haven't seen in five years. 

"Like what? Your favorite member in that stupid boyband?"

"They're not stupid! Okay? They're– They're...!" You stumble over your words, voice coming out louder than you anticipate. 

Damn it. Now everyone around you is staring like a bunch of sheep, the same kind back at work, relishing in an argument– no, a conversation – that they had no rightful part in. 

"They don't know anything about you, do they?" He whispers, a pitiful expression on his face when he sees how worked up you've gotten. "Be honest with me then. What do you want?"

"Honest? You want me to be honest?"

"Well, yes. I'd like that."

"Fine then. I want to fight you right now because I hate you."

"Sure."

"You make me sick."

"Okay."

"I want to–"

"I already said okay."

...

[honeysunai]

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Suguru Geto x y/n

When you first stepped into the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College as a teenager, you first fell head over heels over Suguru Geto. As the years went on, he chose a path of evil and violence that you couldn’t follow him to which led you to a heartbreak. Years later, you became a teacher at that same school and you weren’t expecting to ever see him again and you didn’t think an old flame could spark again even in the midst of war.

warning : 18+, smut with plot because I can’t write anything without plot for the life of me, angst, swearing, kidnapping I guess, Suguru being toxic and jealous and somewhat a bit soft.

author’s note :  This is like my first ever smut and I wrote it super quickly, so I hope you still enjoy it no matter!

word count : 4k+

You had a really bad feeling. It was crawling all over your skin since you woke up like something bad was about to happen. You got ready to early to stop for coffee and when you opened the door, you finally got a glimpse of that bad feeling. The white haired teacher with his infamous sunglasses was standing there with two coffees in his hands.

"Rise and shine sweet girl, we've got a big day." He chanted and you wanted to grab the coffee and slam the door on his stupidly handsome face. You grunted and slammed the door shut behind you and took one of the cups off his hands. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No. I have this bad feeling, I tried to take a steamy shower and wash my face with cold water to maybe shake it off, but it's still there." He hums at your words. "We'll have to watch Yuta a bit more carefully." You add as you take a sip of your coffee. You have been substituting Satoru's students with him just in case Yuta's curse, Rika would be unstable. You would use your own abilities to keep her calm.

You were the wielder of the Ten Commandments, these chains were in form of golden bands on all ten fingers. Your abilities was used by the school and many others to sooth curses to be able to study them alive or to destroy them.

"You overthink too much, the kid is doing great!" He pats you on the back. "I can think of a way or two to get this off your mind." He smirks and you elbow him, but still, you giggled anyway.

"I'll take you up on that offer if you pay for the drink this time." You tease.

"It is seven in the morning and your thinking of drinking, what kind of teacher are you?" He gasps in a dramatic way.

"And you about sex, what does that make you?" You retort.

"A... flirt?" And with that you rolled your eyes, he was a lost cause, but you loved him anyways because he had been your friend for so long... Too long. Recently, something between the two of you happened, a few drinks and there and you woke up naked in his bed cuddled to him. It became a casual thing between the two of you since that day.

The day was long as you predicted and you really couldn’t shake it off, it was like a bug crawling with its little spiky legs all over your back. You were in your office still sipping your coffee while reading boring reports your superior gave you. You were lost in your reading when the crawling suddenly stopped. You looked outside your window to see a gigantic stork made its way to the entrance of the school. You sprinted out your office with your heart beating out of your chest, it had to be him and if it was... it wasn’t a good sign. 

Once you reached the door you saw Satoru standing proud in front of his students and in front of him was a tall man, with thick long dark hair halfway in a bun and as you approached closer, his features became clearer to your eyes. A sharp jawline, piercing dark eyes and a smile that only meant no good... It was him. It was Suguru Geto. 

You made your way in front of Satoru and the kids to protect them against him if he tried something. You knew him better than anyone and you knew he wouldn’t dare to hurt you no matter how much he might want to. There was only one reason he was here in the first place and it was Rika and you wouldn’t let him get to Yuta. 

“Leave my students alone.” You bared your teeth at the man who used to be yours. He towered you with his height and only smiled at you. “Satoru might play nice with you, but I won’t.” You were clenching your fists ready to use your cursed objects on him. You never have been bashful in front of him and you wouldn’t cower now. He took a good look at you and scoffed. 

“I’m here to declare war.” He finally speaks his gaze never leaving yours. “Don’t get too busy on December 24, you’ll need all of your energy because I will commence the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.” He simply says as if it was nothing. “ Thousand cursed spirits will be unleashed in both Shinjuku and Kyoto and all will be ordered to kill every non-sorcerer in sight.” His chuckle his dark and dry. “I challenge you to try to stop me. It will be like the good old days.” He glared at Satoru. “You have one week until war is upon you. Until then, I’ll borrow this little one.” He was too fast for everyone and grabbed you yanking you in the curses mouth. You didn’t even have time to comprehend the speed he had before the stork flew away. 

You were in a bedroom that had no windows and one door that was locked. You can barely remember what happened. You were in a storks mouth and now you were here. Someone must’ve knocked you out really good. Your rings were gone too. You paced around the room, not knowing what your plan was. You were going to kill the first person that enters the room and you were going to escape, as simple as that. You have done that a few times in your younger days, it shouldn’t be too hard now. 

You breathing was heavier and you were angry, your face flushed. You waited and waited until the door unlocked and a tall muscular figure appeared. His long black hair loose, only wearing a blue kimono that you bought him at some point. You didn’t waste a second before running towards him and crashing your fist against his jaw.

“You motherfucker!” You yelled at him.

“So feisty.” He teased. “But I deserved that one.” He chuckles and you were not in the mood for jokes. A lump in your throat was forming and your fist were shaking. After all these years you wanted to kill him, but now that he’s in front of you, you just want to scream and cry. 

“You left me.” You tone was dry as if he had sucked the life out of you. Your fists tried to connect with his face once more, but he was faster than you were and knew your technics because he was the one who thought you how to fight. At each missed attempt, your tears were filling your eyes. “You betrayed me and you killed so many of our friends— You— You—” At every word you were jabbing at his face hoping your fist would connect with his jaw at some point, but he still moved out of the way of each and every single one.

He finally catches your first in one hand and smiled at you. “I missed you too, y/n.” You were caught off guard. He yanked you closer to him and tears were falling down your cheeks. “You were always a crybaby, my love.” You pushed yourself away from his grasp like it was burning. You held a hand before you to put space between the two of you. 

“Don’t—” You spoke as you dried your own tears. “You are nothing to me anymore.”

“Aren’t I?” His smug smile annoyed you and yet comforted you at the same time. You were angry with him as anyone should in your situation. He started to circle you as if you were his prey, his little crying lamb. “I know you and I know you love me, just as you did all those years ago. I still do.” He admits.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. “But loving me wasn’t enough to stay.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, in fact it was your love who gave me strength to leave and to become who I am.” He was proud of what he was and you were disgusted.

“A murderer?” You scoff. “Should I be flattered you’re putting the blood on your hands on mine?”

“Your words, my love, not mine.” He came to a stop behind you and walked closer to your frozen body. “No blood should ever tarnish that beautiful skin of yours as long as I’m alive.” You hummed in disapproval. “You know why you are here, don’t you?” His presence drew closer to your back and you were shivering. “Join me.” His voice his as soft as his thumb caressing your jaw. “I can give you anything you want, only if you chose me over Satoru.”

“That’s what this is about, jealousy.”

“What if it was?” You can feel the smugness in his tone. “You put yourself in front of a man who can’t be touched, ready to accept any punishment I wanted to unleash at that precise moment. You grew fond of him over the years I was gone.” He sounded disgusted. “Enough to die for him.” The stroke of his thumb came to a sharp stop, before going up your cheek to wipe a tear you silently cried. Why were you crying? You weren’t scared of him, so what was it? Was it guilt perhaps? Because you let yourself have other men when he left you? “Do you love him?” His purrs. 

"Why is that any of your business if I love another man than you.” The last word was like a stab at his cold and dark heart. “You weren’t there anymore.”

“Because you are mine, you were mine the day I first saw you.” His lips were near your ear sending shivers down your spine. “And when I first kissed you” His hand left your cheek to trail down your neck, your collar bone... “And when I tasted your sweet cunt...” He gently caressed your breast, his touch burning your skin beneath your shirt. You leaned against him, savoring him and the burning lust you feel. “you were mine only.” His warm and soft lips met with your shoulder, slowly making his way up your neck. His hand still kneading your breast, you let out a low moan as you gave in. “There you go my love, it wasn’t so hard was it?” He whispered against your ear. “Building a new world without you would mean nothing. So say it, say yes.”

It was wrong. You swore an oath to protect innocent, not annihilate them. You couldn’t give up who you were for him. He had left you with a trail of blood behind him, shattering your heart into millions of pieces you still were picking up. He was your first love and the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, but he chose a dark path you wouldn’t follow him into no matter how much you yearn for him . Not then and not now.

“I would do anything for you, my love.” You turned around and locked gaze with him. His pupils were blown, filled of lust, waiting for you to make a move. 

“Anything?” He nods. “Answer truthfully.” You wanted to ask him if he would stop the war, but he wouldn’t, it wasn’t like him to back down from a fight. He wanted something now and he was impatient to get it, enough that he would dare to come back at the very place he despised most. “Why did you take my rings away, don’t you trust me?”

“I do.” He speaks. “But I think I like you better with only one on this finger.” He speaks before pressing his soft lips to the knuckle of your ring finger. Was he asking you to marry him? “But if you want them back” He starts while shuffling a hand in the pocket of his kimono. “you can have them.” Ten golden bands were in the palm of his hand and inside one of them was engraved with something. You picked it up and analyzed it.

My salvation

On the band of your ring finger, he had wrote these words he once called you. A soft smile crept on your lips innocently and something warmed his heart for the first time in a long time. You looked up at him with the same innocent eyes that made him fall in love with you and the way his lips were curling upward was a genuine smile. There he was, your Suguru.

You were his salvation, the one who would either save him, deliver it from all evil or be his ruin. Whatever it meant to him, it meant a lot. 

He brushed his thumb on your lower lip, gazing it with such lust. “You broke my heart too all those years ago when you refused to join me, but there wasn’t a single day I didn’t think about what those beautiful lips of yours could do.” Your heart was pounding in your chest as his eyes went back to yours. “They could bring the mightiest sorcerer to his knees.” 

Why don’t you find out? Was what you wanted to say, but your action spoke louder as you pushed yourself on your tip toes and crashed your lips on his in one swift moment that caught him off guard. It wasn’t slow or soft, it was feral and hungry. You wanted him, all of him as if he was slipping away from your grasp. He tossed the rings on the ground before grabbing a hold of you with one firm hand on your hip and the other to the back of your neck. He picked you up with only one of his arm, his mouth never leaving yours, and sat you on top of the dresser next to him. He pulled away and deep inside you, you were afraid he was going to leave again, but instead of leaving, his blown pupils were observing you and your blushed face.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers before dragging his lips across your jaw, while leaving a trail of wet kisses down to your collar bone. All the while his hands and yours were working on the silk blouse you were wearing. You shuffled out of it and Suguru smiled against your skin before his lips found the globe of your breasts still covered with a bra. He unlatched it with ease and freed your nipples only him to cover one back up with his strong large hand and the other teasingly licking the sensitive nub.

You arched your back and your hand found his thick hair that you grabbed hard, making him groan against your nipple. His hands let go of you shortly to undo your pants and taking them off for you. His mouth leaves of your breasts and you are burning up, everything about him is setting you ablaze. The skin of your stomach remains untouched by him and he his not satisfied as wet kisses made their way down until he was on his knees before you, his head near your naked cunt and you nearly begged him to fuck you at the sight of him like this.  

His teeth graze your inner thigh and you mewled at that, you were melting. His bite was soft and what sent you to the edge was when he started sucking the gentle skin getting closer to your core. He was so close to give you what you wanted, but he stopped before even allowing his lips to devour you and looked up at you with a devilish smirk you knew all too well.

His fingers were digging in your thighs as if he was restraining himself to act in his impulses “So what is your answer, my love?”

“Please," You begged, panting like you've been running a marathon. "My King." He smirks satisfied before dipping his head inside your thigh to lick one long stripe off your fold. The sound you made was ecstatic, it felt relieving to have him this way. You sigh in pleasure and it wasn’t enough of a reaction for him and so he buried his face into you, dinking, eating, licking at your pussy like he never had before.

Your back was off the wall and gripping at the furniture beneath you. You screamed as he sucked at your throbbing clit. You didn’t care if anyone was outside. He didn’t care either. Not by the way he laughed against you. “That’s it. That’s it” he said. “You want me to stretch this pussy for you?” You hummed waiting eagerly for his fingers to fill you up. “Use your words.” He whispers before sucking harshly on your clit making you jolt.

“Yes!” You cried. 

“Yes what?” He was getting cocky because you were never one to beg, but for him you seemed to always were and it was getting to his ego.  

“Yes sir.” You breathe hard as you can feel the tip of one finger circling your entrance, lapping the juice all around it and the tip of his finger. 

“Atta girl.” He leans down to kiss your clit and diving his slender finger all the way inside you, making you gasp, eyes shut as you focused on the building tension in your gut. The way it enveloped you, tugging at every nerve in your body.

"Fuck- yes, Suguru.” You moaned.

It was never enough, not until he filled you completely. But he couldn't resist the satisfaction of your pussy clenching around his finger, especially when he added a second, listening to the vulgar sounds of your wetness squelching around him.

He marveled at the sight of your climax; head falling back, a whimper ascending into a moan, your forehead prickling with sweat. It was impossible to tear his eyes from you, to deny himself the vision of you coming undone on his hand. Your ribs shifting with every breath, hugging your breasts as you leaned back. He lifted his other hand to run over the ridges.

You shivered, relaxing against the wall as the last of your orgasm died out, breathing hard. He stood back up and your eyes met, his predatory gaze on you as he put the two digits he used on you in his mouth, licking your juice off of them.

“I could spend hours drinking you, my love.” He leaned closer to you, kissing your lips once and slithering both arms beneath your ass, lifting you back up in his arms. “But I want to fuck you, so desperately.” He admits and you could’ve cum from the way he sounded as he spoke those words. He laid you there on the bed, so gently, but you had other plans. 

You flipped him under you and he chuckled lowly. “I do like my woman in charge.” 

“You said you were thinking about my lips and what they could do.” You smile as you so slowly undo the belt of his kimono freeing his long erect cock out. “And I too want to have my way with you.” You leaned down over the large head of his dick already wet with precum. You looked at him through your lashes and gave him a taste of his own medicine as you licked the slit of the tip in one long swipe. He hissed loudly, his dick twitching, hitting your upper lip. 

You let a dripple of spit slithering down his shaft and wrapped a hand around it, barely closing around it. You lowered your head against him swallowing him the further you could with your hand slowly jerking the base of his cock as you slowly bobbed your head up and down.

“Fuck...” He groans pulling your hair away from your face to get a better look at your wet lips working up and down his length, adding more pressure with your tongue when you get closer to his tip, making him trust in your mouth. You gagged at the sudden jerk of his hips and he chuckles. “Such a dirty girl for me.” He smiles looking at the curve of your ass in the air, before his eyes return to the heavenly sight before him, his lover with his cock in her mouth, barely taking it all in her mouth. He was greedy and he knew it, but he wanted you so close to him. “Relax your throat for me, my love, I want you to take me all in before I fuck this tight pussy of yours.” And you tried to do as he asked as his grip on the roots of your hair tightened and forced you down his shaft. He let out a loud moan that turned into groan when all of his disappeared down your throat. Your gags made him shiver and he decided to use your face as he fucked himself upward in your mouth until he was satisfied. 

You could only comply to him and let him use you, you hummed in pleasure when you tasted his precum on your tongue and it being pushed down your throat by his shaft. Tears were wielding up in your eyes, he was so big, but you wanted this so badly. 

He finally pulled your head back to admire you, his mess. Your lips were puffy and red with spit down your chin. He yanked you under him and pressed his lips to your hungry to taste your mouth again. 

You swallowed thickly as you him lining it up with your pulsing hole.

He laid his hand on your pelvis, his thumb rubbing over your clit as he pushed himself into you. “Fuck” he spat, his head thrown back. He buried himself to the hilt. “Still so tight. But feels so good”

You could only moan, words not being enough for how it felt. 

He caged your head with his forearms as he leaned over you and began to thrust his cock into you. He always started with a steady pace. His length effortlessly stroking over every sweet spot in your pussy. The protruding vein rubbing deliciously over your walls.

The room now being filled with pants and moans from you both, and squelching sounds from your soaked pussy. Your noises were nothing short of pornographic. Both of you. Suguru was just as loud as you were. Moaning your name and swears. His mouth hanging open and eyes in the back of his head. He was lost in the pleasure and that only made him go harder.

He wanted to feel your tight pussy strangle his cock. Squeeze out every last drop of come into you. He wanted you to be his cumdump. He wanted to watch his come ooze out of your still spasming pussy.

“Does he fuck you like I do?” Suguru’s large hand wrapped around your jaw forcing you to look him in his eyes when you’re going to answer him.

“No!” You cried. 

“That’s right, because only I can make you feel this good.” His pace became faster and you could feel your walls tightening, you were so close. “You’re mine.” He grunts. “Only mine.” His words had you shaking. Had you coming. Coming on his cock. He groaned, growled, damn near barked into your ear when you clenched around him. Chanting ‘yes’ in your ear over and over and over. Drilling himself into you. Your body twitching from the overstimulation now taking over you. Your nails were digging in his back as you rode your orgasm at his pace.

But he kept on going. Kept on pounding into you. Ignoring how you screamed. Ignoring the way you thrashed underneath him. The pleasure becoming too much. But still so good.

You could feel it.

The long, thick stings of burning hot come shooting into you. The sensation had you coming a second time. Suguru shivered. A new tightness around him. Tighter than he had felt before. He cried out your name and continued to drive himself into you.

He slammed his lips to yours. His tongue finding it’s way back down your throat. He swallowed all of your noises. Swallowed them and matched them. 

His pace slowed and he finally pulled out of you, his lips never leaving yours. He laid beside you and smiled at you in a way that made your heart ache and yearn for him. 

“I love you Suguru.” You spoke as you caressed his cheek with that same expression you always had towards him, filled with love. He wrapped you in his arms, bringing you closer to his chest. 

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, my love.” He whispered against your hair as he caresses your back so gently. “In this new world, we will be undefeatable together.” You brought yourself closer to him and kissed the column of his neck as an answer before closing your eyes. 

As you laid there hours later, wide awake your thoughts were running wild. No matter how much you loved him, in this world you were bound to be enemies. You hoped in another you were together with a family of your own, happy, passionate and in love. You scooted out of his grasp, dressed up silently, you carefully picked up your rings scattered across the room and you, his ruination dressed as a salvation, left his compound without ever saying goodbye as he once did to you. No. Your last words were that you loved him, because you still did, you never stopped. You hoped the words you spoke so lovingly will hung in his mind when he will wake up alone. Your heart is slowly breaking at each step you took. It was the last time you would see him until you both meet on the battle field on opposite sides. 

[slytherinshua]

THE JEALOUSY OF A GOD

genre. greek god au. slightly fluffy. warnings. descriptions of war. jealousy. abduction(?). wyatt bleeds ichor not blood. only loosely proofread. wyatt and reader are married. pairing. ares!wyatt x demeter!reader. (ft. helios!seungjun & apollo!hyojin). wc. 1.4k. request. no. a/n. ares is the god of war, demeter is the goddess of harvest for those unaware. we're going to ignore the fact that demeter is hera's sister and ares is hera's son bcuz... yeah. there's sm incest in greek mythology help??? also i kinda hate this i think it's bad so i'm sorry also the ending is kinda rushed but my brain gave up....

You couldn’t help the way your heart broke a little as you surveyed the sight of all the trampled flowers, torn grass, and squashed bushes. Blood painted them, making what was a luscious thriving green appear brown and dirty. All of your hard work had gone to waste again— all because of Jaeyoung.

As the god of war, it seemed wherever Jaeyoung went, war would follow. He was generally disliked amongst the other gods because of the violence that always broke out due to his rashness. He had a tendency to be hot headed and think with his spear rather than his head. This was at the expense of many poor humans, as well as your poor flowers. You could never hate him for it, though.

Though the god of war and the goddess of harvest were possibly the two most unlikely pairing, your love was written in the stars, predicted and destined to be since the beginning of time. Jaeyoung was by no means the perfect god, but you were far from perfect yourself. His rashness balanced your overly cautious nature, and his push to take risks had been beneficial many times in the past. At the same time, your thoughtfulness had gotten him out of trouble on numerous occasions over the centuries. 

When it came down to it, Jaeyoung was someone who you would always come back to. His loyalty made him more trustworthy than any other god or goddess you knew, and you knew he would always stand by you no matter what and listen to all your concerns. The love and peace of mind he gave you was far more precious than your field of flowers— you could always grow them back.

His wars didn’t happen as often as they used to due to your influence on him. He knew how much you hated bloodshed in general, and you had his word that it would only happen when absolutely unavoidable. You were sure this battlefield was the same.

Broken spears and bloodied bodies remained hidden amongst the tall grass and broken flower stems. You walked through the field, watching as fresh grass and poppies sprouted wherever your feet touched. You carried a basket of ambrosia and a goblet of nectar, intent on giving them to your lover. 

Jaeyoung still stood at the other end of the field, ordering his warriors around to check for the dead. He didn’t seem to notice your presence yet, but as you drew closer, he turned around from the brush of your footsteps through the grass.

“Love, why are you here so early? It has not been an hour since the fighting ceased.” He said warily, his deep voice drawing goosebumps out from your skin. He sheathed his sword and cupped your cheek, the familiarity of his rough hands against your smooth skin made your eyes flutter closed. Whether it was in the intimacy of your own or moments after a battle, his touch still held boundless love for you.

“You’re getting gold on me.” You said softly, noticing every movement he took. He drew his hand back, feeling the ichor drips from his fingertips. He wiped it away, and then swept across your cheek where it had stained, returning your skin to its smooth untainted state.

“Forgive me— I have not yet had the chance to tend to my wounds.” He replied.

“I am sorry for coming so early and unannounced. I could not rest while you were not home. I would like to tend to the field before Seungjun’s chariot reaches the west.” You said slowly, searching his eyes for his approval. He nodded, accepting the ambrosia and nectar from you and withdrawing to the shade of a tree to partake in the nourishment. 

You trailed along the edge of the field, letting your touch slowly heal the Earth, life sprouting from your very fingertips. Jaeyoung watched you intently, pondering over your differences as he often did. You breathed life into everything you touched, allowing the flowers to bloom, the crops to mature, and humanity to continue. His existence brought death and chaos, fear and loss following him at every turn. 

It was a delicate dance; life and death.  

When you were satisfied with the flowers now blooming on the field, you ambled back towards the tree that Jaeyoung was now sleeping under. The battle must have tired him out. You knelt beside him, brushing a wet cloth against the cuts that still leaked gold from his body. Your husband was strong as most gods were, but you still cared for him as if he was the most delicate piece of glass.

You knew it was strange how you loved him. Your love for him resembled humans’ love, not the love of a god. Jaeyoung had filled every last piece of your heart, and you loved him with your entire being. It had taken a long time for him to even get a sliver of affection out of you, and you often remembered the days where his efforts to win you over were met with silence from you. You used to despise how treacherous he was; how much pain his wars caused. But it wasn’t entirely his true nature.

Yes, he fought, but he fought for the right causes and he was loyal to his men. You had grown tired of how fickle your fellow gods were. They betrayed each other as if it were their only entertainment, and you would be hard pressed to find a god who had no enemies.

The other gods of Olympus hated Jaeyoung because he had stopped being like them. Once he had met you, and quickly fallen in love, he dedicated his life to you. You were present in all of his thoughts, and he would turn on the whole world before he turned on you. There was not a single other god who you could say possessed such devotion. 

The least you could do to return his affection was keeping him as safe as possible. You had never told him how hard you worked to keep connections with the other gods of Olympus. Over half of them were more than ready to kick both you and Jaeyoung out after one of his more rebellious encounters. You convinced them to not strip your husband of his powers, but even now, you had yet to soothe Hera and Athena’s anger. 

You were wary of Hera especially. She didn’t forgive others easily, and was known to be jealous and wicked. You knew she was planning something against Jaeyoung even now, and you were anxious to find out what it was. You weren’t sure what else you could do to get you back in her good graces.

Jaeyoung stirred awake at your touch, already alert as soon as he opened his eyes. He glanced up at you, quickly checking that everything was alright before sitting up.

“No one would be able to tell that a battle happened on this field.” His eyes trailed over the fresh flowers and healthy grass; now looking much unlike the field he had fallen asleep to. He then turned back to you, “Thank you for cleaning it up.” 

You simply cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his lips, which he gladly reciprocated. It was your silent way of reminding him that you were more than willing to do anything for him. He was yours and you were his for the rest of time, and nothing could ever separate him from you.

You travelled back to Olympus; Jaeyoung seemed cheerful, while you were more cautious. Something in your gut was telling you that now was not the time to show your faces in Zeus’s throne room. You dissuaded your husband from announcing his return, and led him back to your chambers instead, urging him to rest more and promising him to be back within an hour.

But you didn’t return within an hour, and Jaeyoung’s worry grew with each passing minute. Hyojin— the god of archery, music, and poetry— burst in, and with a few quick words of explanation, Jaeyoung’s heart sank. He knew that he had gotten on Hera’s bad side; his willingness to do anything for you only reminded her of how unsuitable her own husband was to her. Jaeyoung knew that she held no fondness for him, but he had never accounted for the full extent of her jealousy. 

Hera had captured you, and Jaeyoung had no doubt that she would do whatever it took to get what she wanted out of him, using you as her leverage.

↳ onf taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @seunghancore,, @haecien

[itsfeckinwimdy]

Ageing - Soulmate Shorts 2

George Russell x Reader

Reader Pronouns: They/Them.

Letter: A = Ageing (Ageing stops at 25 until you find your soulmate so the two of you can grow old together.)

Word Count: 271 words

Warnings: n/a

Tree speaks: To be honest with you, I don't know how I feel about this. I have a lot of mixed feelings as it's different to how I usually write but I wanted to try something a bit different, so yeah. Enjoy I guess.

(now 2 days after having written this, I genuinely feel its the worst thing I've ever written)

F1 Masterlist / Soulmate Shorts 2 Masterlist

Published: 18/12/2022

It was something that he assumed he would get used to; the fact he wouldn't age.

George had presumed that it would be a hard concept to grasp; something that would take time before he fully understood the consequences of never ageing. That was ironic, he thought. That it would take time to understand that whilst the world kept moving forward he would stick out like a sore thumb, never changing, never ageing.

But that was one thing he could look forward to, time. To see the world change around him; to see if the climate will be as bad as predicted or if the world would level out with a disaster as it usually would.

Maybe it was his outlook on life itself that allowed him to think that way. Somewhat positive that everything would work out but understanding that bad things happen to everyone, no matter the person. Everything had worked out in the end for him. Well almost.

He gained his seat at Mercedes after staying with Williams for a few years and putting his trust in Toto, and was on his way to achieving his goal of becoming a formula one champion. Albeit it might take him and his team another year at least but that was still the aim.

The endgame.

And his soulmate?

Where did they fit into the picture?

George supposed that he would wait for them. If he were to wait an eternity to meet them, he would spend an eternity waiting. He believed that it was up to fate to meet them.

After all, he wasn’t going to age for a while.

[naffeclipse]

Me reading the start of the chapter, heart aching: remember it will be alright, they will share cheesy candy in valentines, it will be fine-

Ahhhh, Naff, this story just brings me life!

I knew the start was gonna pull no punches! I was very sure the night terrors would come with a vengeance but wow, the fact that they’re bad enough for y/n to wake up, (and remember them! Because I recall they said they usually didn’t remember what happened in those nightmares!)

And ouch, ouch, ouch, Moon was immediately there, and I wonder if they feel guilty for the terrors because it’s likely the demon encounter that caused them, and they just want to help and comfort them, especially now that it’s gotten so bad, but ahhh, they’re not welcome to do so! Because for y/n it’s exchanging one type of hurt for the other. The fear for their life vs the pain of feeling alone in the presence of someone you care about.

And perhaps they are being a little petty, but as they reflect, the care feels empty without the trust, and letting the boys care for them now feels like a reminder of the wall they can’t seem to get around and for which they don’t have a better explanation than “they don’t think I’m worthy of their trust”. This all just attacks directly the biggest insecurities of the hunter, and the toll it’s taking is clear as day. (Also I noticed there’s not a single ‘sweetie’ in this chapter ;o; ) But aaaaagh, the chosen fabric being set aside killed me! I’d forgotten that little project and now the fact that they don’t even want to look at it? Ahhhh my heart! I rambled so much about the symbolism of it last time and now it hurts all the more!

But oof, even through this fight that seems to have no end in sight, they still care so much for the boys! They take into account how much they care about children and are quick to not let them see the dead little ones. Y/n still wants to protect them as much as they can! And even though asking them to stay behind comes with the brutal honesty of ‘I need space’, they’re still sincere in not wanting to leave them, answering Sun’s question that was probably asking much more than y/n realized. Also, also, I loved the detail of them chastising themselves for thinking Sun’s eyes look red! Even when mad, they’re defensive of the boys and almost seemed like they were insulted on their behalf for daring to let the nightmares insinuate they would be something so vile (oh, honey, if you only knew)

Ha, of course, I didn’t expect the boys to ever stay behind XD They pretended to, as much as they could, and something tells me that that first instance of y/n feeling watched was not the cryptid, but the boys following from afar, since they looked back from where they were walking. Also would make sense, since the boys are familiar with the range of the detector! And they only entered the visible range when the other cryptid got too close. Clever guys! Y/n really should have considered they would be afraid of them not returning and after leaving on such bad terms (Though it seems this demon is pretty familiar with hunters and their tactics too huh?)

Speaking of which! Man, this cryptid! Oh, as soon as I read that it was hunting for tongues specifically and being so brutal about it, I immediately knew this was not gonna help the boys’ case later. What a similarity to have! (And also omg, I am going to make the prediction that this cryptid is so gonna lose its tongue, because there has been some poetic irony with a lot of the previous cryptids hehe).

And ahhhh, Naff, I just gotta say, the way you have established y/n as a capable hunter makes me realize how much I now trust them at it too! As soon as they felt something was off, I paused and thought back of the missing kid and why would the cryptid ever just take one when all others and previous cases have not been like that. And it occured to me that it could be using him as bait! And then I continued reading and y/n was on the same page and I felt so accomplished XD

(Also I gotta comment on how well this cryptid is suited to the desert environment! As soon as I knew there was an ambush, it reminded me of animals like the snake that buries itself in the sand to suddenly attack prey, or the antlion that waits for its prey to fall in its trap! So cool how it follows those types of dynamics!)

But ahhh, following along with the encounter, the dark liquid! I can’t tell you how much it took me by surprise to know that this was a demonic cryptid! The possession! (Can’t help but wonder if the demon made the poor kid kill his friends or if the possession was a last minute decision. But they disappeared a couple days ago, so it would seem he was kept alive. Maybe it always used one of the victims to attract more? )

The liquid! God, the evidence being thrown in y/n’s face, and yet, the unshakeable belief that a demon isn’t capable of anything but cruelty keeps them from (or makes them ignore) all signs that something like that could even remotely be the true nature of their friend! But so many cracks are showing, and soon that belief might not be as unshakable. Lambert agreeing with them for now might reassure them but oh boy, things are about to snap.

And speaking about snapping, hmmmm, next chapter is not gonna start too happy, I can tell. Sun and Moon deliberately went against the wishes of the hunter, which sure they didn’t agree to, but it was clearly something they were meant to listen to. Not only that, in the hunters eyes, they are the cause that the demon ran away. Usually when they intervene, y/n is in a tough spot, and though I agree that Lambert was being reckless, y/n and him did seem to have a chance, as the fight hadn’t quite started yet. The distraction, the idea that Sun and Moon had been in danger all this time, putting them in a bad light from Lambert’s position, AND especially, the fact that the boys seem to not respect their authority as an experienced hunter even when declaring that no cryptid can beat them, all that I can see making y/n really mad.

Oh and lastly, I wanted to comment on Lambert! I really like his character as I imagine he’s more along what the average hunter would be like! He seems more like what the hunter has described of Vanessa, so it makes me think that just like Sun and Moon are unique even among demons, y/n is unique even among hunters! Lambert’s way of doing stuff might not be compatible with theirs, his personality as well, but he obviously does his job well, and seems trustworthy when it comes to covering their back! Also, at the part where we find out his reaction to the night terrors, I imagine perhaps there’s a bit of y/n’s insecurities influencing how they perceived his reaction? He has seen The Horrors too. I doubt he was pitying or ashamed of them. He seemed to understand but this is a stranger and we know he is detached on the emotional side. But that’s just what it seemed like to me! In any case, uuuh, he really is in a tough spot now huh? He’s going against a very brutal demon, and he just accused Sun of being a cryptid, the very thing they’ve been terrified of y/n finding out and the cause of the current fight. Also, demons don’t have hearts so even killing the lizard demon won’t give them a meal so uuuuuh, yeah! Poor Lambert’s chances are… yeah XD

Omg this is so long already hgkfhdkd So as you can see, loved the chapter, so looking forward to the next, I am so excited for what’s coming! Amazing work, Naff!

Chaotik, I just have to say that your comments bring me to life! *smooch ya on the head*

Ahahha, good eye! Not one 'sweetie'. Funny how Y/N isn't in such a petname-giving mood ;-;

That little parting of ways was one of my favorite angsty scenes to write! There's so much hurt and honesty (and lack thereof) but then Y/N walks away from them and it actually doesn't help Y/N to focus or feel better like they desperately wanted it to.

Ah, yes! That was the boys that Y/N felt watching them! They never listen when Y/N tells them to stay behind smh

Hehehe, drinking up your little prediction ♥

YES! The tongue-eater is a cunning, terrible creature! I'm so happy that you trust Y/N as a hunter holding their own!!!

EEE! I'm also really happy you pointed out the animal-like behavior of the tongue-eater setting up a trap! I took a lot of inspiration from desert reptiles for this brute hehe

Lambert is tolerating Sun for the moment, but he's not entirely persuaded; we'll see that later.

You're correct that Y/N is mad and overall still upset with them! The boys, however, have their own bones to pick with Y/N and this particular hunt they went on.

Ah, I'm glad you like Lambert! I'm honestly a little surprised by the reactions to Lambert so far but it's really nice to see everyone discuss what amounts to an OC of mine that's here to help establish worldbuilding and propel the plot along. He is more along the lines of an average hunter! You're also right to point out that the hunter is projecting their insecurities onto Lambert's reaction to being told they have night terrors. Y/N is already so hurt and dishearted (heh) by Sun/Moon not trusting them that they're seeing things that aren't there. Lambert understands. He has nightmares, not night terrors, but nightmares, too, but he's got an iron wall built around his emotional compartment and nothing is getting in or out of that bad boy, so he came off a bit judgemental for not saying much about it. So, a little blame can go around to both of them for that little misunderstanding.

Demonic cryptids don't have hearts, but that doesn't mean there aren't hearts out in the desert. Ya know, waste not, want not.

Ahhh, thank you Chaotik! It's always a treat to read your thoughts and know that you're enjoying my writing! It means the world to me, babe ♥

[kayla-crazy-stuffs]

A familiar Face...? [Re-Write] Titan!Marco AU

I didn't like how I wrote the other one so I just wrote it again. You can also find it on my Ao3 if you want :]

Anyways, enjoy

TW: fear of being eaten mention (because, ya know, titans)

If his day was bad, then in those moments it was worse. Everyone who was in their group had been devoured by the titans. He has been running for almost an hour, since his horse decided to leave in a hurry. He was still surprised to be alive.

And why is that? Practically because his omni-directional maneuvering gear equipment had broken and now he had no way to protect himself if a titan appeared.

Jean could tell he was starting to get tired but he still hadn't found anywhere he could be safe and for some reason he had the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

And just as he predicted, a few minutes later a titan appeared, approaching him at full speed. Jean's eyes widened in panic as he continued running, even though he knew he couldn't escape from that titan.

Only a few seconds passed before the titan grabbed Jean tightly in its hand. Jean let out a scream at the sudden pain, hearing a crunch. The titan probably broke a bone (maybe more), although he couldn't say which one.

The titan lifted him closer to its face as it opened its mouth. There was no way out of this…

//

He didn't know how much time had passed but he felt alone. He completely remembered everything that happened the day he died, his companions, everything. But... he woke up again, in a new body, one he didn't like at all.

He had become what had killed him. He also had lost the need to sleep and eat. During the time he had been alive in this form, he had seen many soldiers lose their lives to the titans before he could do anything to stop it.

That day was practically the same, bodies of soldiers scattered on the ground, having been attacked by the titans. He let out a sigh as he continued to wander through the clearing, his hearing now really sharp, hearing a scream from a human not far from where he was.

He decided to hurry up and try to save the human, since he still had the chance to do so. It didn't take him long to find the titan who was currently lifting the writhing human towards its face.

He quickly approached the titan and punched it, causing it to let go of the human. He pushed him away from the small human, holding the titan to the ground before biting and ripping off its nape, killing it.

He turned away from the now disappearing titan to look at the human, before slowly approaching him. He gently picked him up in his hands, his eyes widening when he recognized the small soldier.

//

Jean continued to try to squirm in the grasp of the titan that was about to eat him, when suddenly another titan hit it, causing him to let go and Jean to fall to the ground.

Why would a titan attack another one? That to one side, he tried to get up from the ground but his body hurt, so he couldn't. Suddenly he felt giant hands pick him up, almost forgetting that there was another titan there.

He wanted to squirm again but his body hurt too much so he just looked away, closing his eyes and hoping that it would be quick. However, seconds later his eyes shot open in shock when he heard.

“J…ee-aa…n..” he looked at the titan again, his eyes widening as he focused on him. Short black hair, brown eyes and… freckles. Jean only knew one person with those characteristics but...

That was impossible... Marco was dead, right? He found his body with half of his face missing. “...M-Marco...?” He said with a small stutter. The titan smiled at him as he nodded softly, showing Jean that it really was him.

“B-But how? How are you a titan?” Marco shrugged, still looking at the human. Jean sighed before asking something again. “Marco, uh… Do you remember what happened to you in Trost…?”

Marco's smile fell a little as he heard the question, slowly nodding his head. “Oh… I guess it's depressing to remember your own death, huh…?” Jean said, feeling pretty bad for Marco.

Suddenly he felt Marco lift him up even more, bringing him closer to his face. Jean panicked for a moment, thinking that Marco was going to eat him, when suddenly his cheeks flushed bright red.

“M-Marco! D-Did you just kiss me?!” Marco smiled widely, nodding happily. Jean sighed, trying to free himself from the shame, while thinking about something else.

What was he going to do with Marco now that he's a titan?