#formidable winning chances

[morelikesin]

I just gotta laugh at the circumstances of my year like

First half of my year: solo flying across the country to live off the land for a month foraging and whittling and hiking through 7000 ft elevation in the Gila mountains

Second half of my year: going to the ER and being bed ridden for a month and then a few months later almost cutting my toe off stepping on glass

[iceunhie]

— out of this world (and into another) : genshin impact

premise: you could've sworn the transmigration curse didn't have an effect on you... so what exactly are you doing here?! (alternatively, you tumble straight into your favorite video game; and you're kinda fucked)

...or, a genshin manhwa otome game inspired au.

act i: scaramouche, alhaitham, wriothesley.

↳ act ii: lyney, neuvilette, kazuha, kaeya. (next)

warnings. fem!reader but can be imagined as genderless if u'd like hehe, a shit ton of manhwa tropes in one, this is a hot mess aka not proofread all that much, half clunky half decent writing

a/n: as promised via the poll heh,, while i do plan to make this an actual au, im not that sure ^^; just the tip of the iceberg here tho!!

MAIN MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST (coming soon)

YOU — unsuspecting civilian turnt transmigrator

you've always been too attached to fictional characters for your own good.

yes, even the ones that are remarkably irredeemable (the power of a backstory is very formidable) and complex (complexity is a virtue!)

villains have always been destined to die, be cursed, or destined to curse others. it was heartbreaking, really. you've wished for a chance to rewrite their fates for them to find even a sliver of happiness, even when the fate of their plot says otherwise.

which is why when you find yourself awake into the game of your dreams, “Teyvat's Seven Stars”, like any lover of cliche novel and manhwa tropes, this is the time you think that maybe life wasn't so shitty on you.

....there's only one tiny, teensy, itty bitty problem here, actually.

you're not the protagonist. you're not even one of the protagonist's faithful friends and underlings that light protagonist's road to conquering the world and its men (and as of the 4.0 update, it's women); no, you're none of those.

you're a no name extra, and not to mention, a character involved with the game's main villain characters who are coincidentally the love interests of the game's black route!

[ unlock transmigration package: ultimate transmigrator's route ( ????? MODE ) ]

[ no ] [ yes ]

( 国崩 ) SCARAMOUCHE — the tyrant

“as of today, you will be engaged to crown prince kunikuzushi, who is her grace the shogun's rightful heir to the throne.”

when given approval to stare at your so-called soon to be husband, you expect the worst, mostly. the multitudes of character dialogue you've played through detailing his rather discourteous personality (which basically meant he was a huge asshole) don't exactly paint a pretty picture.

however...

who was this tender hearted looking scaramouche that ‘obliterated armies in the blink of an eye?’ the t in tyrant stands for tyrannical, not timid!

eyes like lighting framed by the longest eyelashes you've ever seen and an unfairly pretty face, comparable to a fair lotus. after fawning over his otherworldly countenance, a sinking realization of dread pools in your stomach.

oh, you are so screwed.

essentially tied to the indigo-haired ticking time bomb of a future tyrant due to the strong standing of your family for a period of until the main story starts, you're destined to never get crown prince scaramouche's affection, being his fiancée who scaramouche is arranged to for political means only.

not to mention, you're in an even more deadly position; of all the characters you switched souls with, it's the one that essentially dies by their own fiancé's hand because they were horrible to him! what atrocious luck!

frantic, you wrack up about three ways to survive.

plan a) win over the shogun's favor by being an appropriate partner unlike the original flavor of this body, who resorted to bullying the innocent prince and unknowingly digging their own grave or b) be a guiding friend to scaramouche as he learns the ways of the world and c) make sure you don't end up giving the protagonist a bad ending via his twisted personality.

weighing all these options, you decide to do all three in hopes to cement a life instead of a deathflag. prevention is better than the cure (aka: the protagonist) after all!

(you may also just want to spend time with your favorite character. having a time limit and a sign that says ‘i'll die in the future!’ should at least warrant you extra time to show some affection to scaramouche, at least.)

so, you do what anyone in your position would do: give affection! lots of it.

admittedly, it wasn't all flowers and rainbows. scaramouche—ahem, kunikuzushi—was very shy and reserved indeed, with his mother ei even worse off! (besides, who trains and studies all day and has to stop crying every time they were injured?! that was just too much!)

it was rather hard at first, the frigid atmosphere of the usually silent Tenshukaku Palace almost impossible to permeate. but with your amazing charm (read: deathflag radar) and social skills, you manage to let the members of the Royal family open up to you.

speaking words of praise in ei's cooking (a very difficult feat to accomplish), spending afternoons with your fiancé and teaching him ‘how to be a shoujo worthy male lead, name-version’ (very confusing to explain), and the cherry on top, driving away that vile teacher of his—the Doctor—once word got out that he'd been taking advantage of scaramouche as a political puppet king in the future. trauma enabler destroyed! look at your immeasurable powers!

(“you're not a failure.” clasping kunikuzushi's hands in yours as he reels back from you. damn that doctor.

his tears shot a wave of heartache through you. you can't bear to see your favorite in such suffering. “whatever happens in the future, i won't abandon you.

no matter what, i'll always be on your side, okay?”

kunikuzushi looks at you with something in his eyes—something like adoration. “do you promise that?”

“yeah.” you say without hesitation, the glow of the sunlight hitting your face so dazzlingly that kunikuzushi's eyes widen that his mouth hangs agape in awe. “i promise, kuni.”)

to your greatest delight, your efforts worked in your favor.

ei now spends time with her son, and though it's almost always just a tad bit awkward, you and the guuji yae miko get the two to strike up conversation, and overtime, kunikuzushi becomes more open to you.

(“[name], what kind of man is your type?”

“huh? well...” you think for a while. this was a great opportunity to say it, right? that life changing protagonist quote!

“to me, the only person i'll ever like the most is you, kunikuzushi.”

“do you really, really mean that?” and oh, he looks so cute—flustered and red from your words. worth it.

“yup! now, i made some shimi chazuke, try some—”)

(admittedly, lots of favoritism is involved.)

—and while you reap the fruits of your hard work, you spend warm, sunlit afternoons with ei at tea, even learning about other nations from scaramouche's aunt nahida and even befriended a few of his future affiliates—childe (though for some reason, kunikuzushi always pulls you away from him whenever he spots the two of you together), signora (she tolerates you, you think) and etcetera.

(“then, if i do well, can you kiss me on the cheek, [name]?”

you agree, much to his delight. scaramouche avoids the gaze of a certain pink haired fox eyeing him questionably. unbeknownst to you, he glares at the woman's scrutiny.)

unprecedented things unrelated to the plot happen too; like how your family, which basically only saw you as a political bargaining chip and an unwanted child they could get rid of easily—no longer sent you any demeaning letters demanding money once scaramouche found out....

(“they've been leeching off of you for how long?” so scary... is this was kunikuzushi is like when he's worried?)

(“...kunikuzushi, how long will you keep up that weak-hearted facade of yours? if they find out how.... dishonest you are....”

“i don't need the reminders of a foxy old hag that doesn't know her place. this is fine as it is.”)

(you don't need to know.)

but, you're nothing compared to the inevitable flow of the plot. inazuma is wracked with war, and it just so happened that you'd been unceremoniously kidnapped by a certain resistance leader's trusted general, used as a hostage bargain for approximately the majority of your life. in the worst moments in your dreary cell, there's only one thought in your mind.

....kunikuzushi's face, devastated when he tries to reach for you, before slipping away from him like sand— face morphing into an unbridled state of rage that's too natural, too familiar. when did he learn to make a face like that?

(they say the kingdom was wracked with thunderstorms all night that day.)

afterwards, fate doesn't make it kind for you.

years go by in the blink of an eye, with your capture fervently forgotten in the midst of the growing animosity of the two conflicting forces.

although you did hear that yae sent out a search party for you while at the resistance's base, the shogun's forces never reached you.

eventually, you got released secretly by sympathy of kokomi, the leader of the resistance, who felt pity for you getting caught in the crossfire. letting you go under the condition that you'd likely never meet any of the precious characters you've gotten to know and change was a heavy price to pay, but you didn't have any choice.

indeed, no matter how much you tried to divert the plot, your duty as an extra has ended, and you were even lucky to even be alive. you could only hope that your fiancé—ex-fiancé—took note of your lessons well, bidding farewell to inazuma as you hop on the boat to mondsdat.

by now, you at least hoped that scaramouche and the protagonist met, his true chance at happiness starting now that you were basically dead.

(even if your heart felt like breaking into a million pieces.)

....is what you thought would happen, but why is it that after three years from your supposed capture, inazuma was still at war?

“that crazy prince... he's still working to find his former fiancée... and he's razing almost every village apart looking for them!”

“—didn't the shogunate say that whoever finds her would receive almost 3 million mora?”

“the entire lot of them are lunatics, i tell you. all because of a missing person, too!”

what's more, why was it still going because of you?!

( 艾尔海森 ) AL-HAITHAM: the information guild master

to be fair, normal people don't really run into one of their favorite characters often after transmigrating.

but to be fair, again, you certainly didn't think you'd actually be in your favorite video game franchise caged in bed with essentially one of its main love interests.

eyes wide and unceremoniously looking—definitely not ogling— at the toned body that's currently enveloping you in its arms, the soft tuft of ashy gray hair caressing the crook of your neck, murmuring incoherent mumbles of—is that another language?

???????

you blink, looking down at the bare body currently embracing you. oh. oh.

you're an extra.

you're just an extra, but why are you in bed, currently being served breakfast by the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on, with a pretty view of the rainforests' canopy?

“you should lie down. if i recall, sufficient sleep is required in order for the human body to perform its basic bodily functions. although our partnership is temporary, to let you fall to harm is a situation i'd like to avoid as much as possible.”

“....what?”

“...?”

the guild master, al-haitham, is a character in Teyvat's Seven Stars that is heavily debated on whether he's technically a villain or not. in the game, he's the right hand of sumeru's leader, nahida, working as the overseer of the AKASHA, a guild that gathers information to the nation's leader. he's a pretty shady character—always working behind the scenes and very unfalteringly blunt—and a ‘villain’ for crown prince scaramouche's route, helping the protagonist escape his clutches.

he's often the subject of comedic ire, his banters with a certain broke architect always the highlight of any bonafide al-haitham fan.

“we're expected to work together by lord kusanali's decree in the duration of investigating the hivemind project the lord suspects the baron siraj is partaking in.”

right, that one scene in the game where al-haitham needed to go undercover to infiltrate a coup de etat staged by one of the factions against nahida... right... what.

you were that extra! the one that fell in love with him and pined for his affection!

(“well, i get that part, but does sleeping together really have to play a part in this...?”

al-haitham gives you a mere quirk of the lip, tilting his head. “we do have to play the part of a married couple in dire straights, do we not? this cover is more efficient.

...besides, i don't have anything to complain about. you're certainly better company than kaveh.” )

in truth, al-haitham wasn't bad company. far from it. aside from the internal giggling and fangirling (you) and the incredible stack of books (alhaitham) that you have to see more than the grey haired man on a daily basis, the two of you work out a rapport that stems from memories of the body you transmigrated in.

he's nice to be around, surprisingly considerate when he wants to be—he tells you about the books he always reads....

(who even reads ‘20 Tongues Language Memorization Guidebook: A Basic Overview of Vocabulary and Terms’ for enjoyment?

the content makes your head run in circles because of how complicated it is; but who wouldn't like to listen to an extremely attractive man overexplain to you with a calm and pretty voice?)

...is generous enough to provide meals and cook dinners that have you crying tears of gratitude because you know how awful yours compares (it was either too bland or too seasoned; al-haitham is surprisingly picky when he wants to be)

(you assigned al-haitham the title of “absolute s-tier husband material”— his capabilities are out of this world!)

by chance, you once gave al-haitham a little tidbit of information that proved to be valuable later in the investigation—courtesy of your avid game knowledge—when you two had been lost to the psychological illusion magic cast by siraj when you two finally broke in his estate.

(“whatever happens, if siraj messes with your mind, just make sure to think of me instead of anything else.” al-haitham lets his hand find yours.

“you once asked me if i trusted you, [name].”

“....” you're treated to one of al-haitham's rare smiles, one that warms you up from within. “i do. so don't let yourself get hurt.”)

however, your temporary partner had faltered for once, flinching when siraj took the form of his old grandmother who'd passed to exploit al-haitham's mind, hesitating and frozen in place while siraj inched ever closer to finding out his weakness.

and you couldn't stand it, the character you cared for—the al-haitham that always had a plan, always knew how to stay calm, had looked so unsure and hopeless.

(“wake up, al-haitham!”

with you cradling his face, al-haitham stares back at the only constant in the memories of his grief, eyes meeting yours. “you don't have to do it all alone. i'm right here, aren't i? believe in me.”)

your (fake) husband snaps back to reality, finally allowing enough time to apprehend siraj and put a stop to his malicious project.

(“thank you.” al-haitham tells you solemnly. it hits you that this may be the last time you may ever see him. “i'm grateful that you brought me back to y— to my senses.”

there's a sincerity in your voice that rings from your heart. “anytime, al-haitham.”)

you thought that was the end of it.

defeating siraj meant you two no longer had to associate with each other, but somehow, to your great surprise, al-haitham doesn't stick to the plot at all. you were sure you didn't interfere with the game, though?

for some reason, al-haitham doesn't erase himself from your life, unlike the original route's flow.

in fact, he's become... easy to run into, a constant in your otherwise mundane life. he takes you out to lambad's tavern for an occasional drink, says he's lending you his headphones when you find yourself overwhelmed by the city (you were never good with noises) and even helps you out as you vent your problems to him.

(the day after, said problem conveniently disappears. how strange....)

and most of all, allowing you to enter his personal space... leaving kaveh's jaw dropping when he accuses al-haitham of having a lover.

“you're always going who knows where with them! what else is there to figure out?”

“...we are merely friends.”

“a friend that you let into your personal library? do they know that you still keep the ‘fake’ ring in a box inside the closet?” kaveh laughs. “nice try, al-haitham.”

(after all, kaveh could never unsee the way al-haitham's eyes softened at the feeling of the head on his shoulder lean onto him, with you no doubt asleep. he even took his headphones off! kaveh has never seen him actually take them off in order to keep the person who's sleeping on his shoulder as undisturbed as possible.

in fact, kaveh doesn't think he's ever seen al-haitham be this touchy or considerate with anyone this much before.

.....and most importantly, kaveh would never forget the way al-haitham, a man who found no merit in politeness and preferred bluntness, a man who preferred solitude rather than company—deliberately getting close to someone—pressing a fleeting kiss on the crown of your head.

kaveh blinks. it seems even the throes of love can reach even the most unconquerable of peaks....)

( 莱欧斯利 ) WRIOTHESLEY — the monster duke of the north

“—i need you to gather information on duke wriothesley. serve him undercover as one of the prisoners of the fortress.”

the duke of meropide—a man swamped with terrible rumors. they say he was exiled from the nation due to murdering his entire family. they say he possessed a face worthy of the title of a beast— grotesque, littered in scars. they say that any who end up in his estate, the iron prison of the north, meropide, never saw the light of day again.

(“only criminals of the worst kind are fated to be sentenced there. nobody returns, so we've stopped questioning it...” )

so to say you're not fearing for your life that bad right now is a massive understatement.

“now, mind telling me how you were able to sneak into the most impenetrable prison in all the land, miss prisoner?”

how did it end up like this?

so you wake up and find yourself in jail. lovely.

seriously, of all the places you can transmigrate into, why did it have to be fontaine?! Teyvat's Seven Stars chapter 4's main starting point, the nation of justice is littered with dark themes and high difficulty capture targets.

.... such is the case with the man in front of you. unlike what the rumors of him say, duke wriothesley paints a rugged yet dashing picture of a nobleman, even if he was —if you recall— one of the hardest capture targets to conquer in the game.

a villain character who you played once during one game route, acting as the driving force during one of the love events of one of the protagonist's other love interest, lyney. duke wriothesley almost assassinates lyney's younger brother, freminent, leading lyney to rally up a certain group to bring the nobleman down.... a typical side character villain, who's existence was added as late as 3 patches away from lyney's.

(even inazuma would be better than this! at least the tyrant route could be avoided, and let's not mention the easy sumeru route as well...)

“well, miss prisoner, cat got your tongue?”

in summary: fortunately for you, the body you transmigrated is in the position to spy on the current affairs of the fortress of meropide, with courtesy and with permission of one of Fontaine's leaders, neuvillette. unfortunately for you, it seems our dear monsieur wasn't able to inform wriothesley beforehand, leading to the current situation.

aka, you're pressed dangerously close to wriothesley's chest, with a knife at his throat and his hands pinning you against the wall, noses almost touching. you're not sure if this is even the kind of tension that two people who are trying to kill each other are supposed to have...

(“i'm an ally!” you sputter out. wriothesley raises an eyebrow at you. “monsieur neuvillette sent me.”

“how am i supposed to trust you after i saw you slinking around here, knife at my throat?” he replies, eyes narrowing. “i know that i'm labelled as a beast, but i don't really know what came over that pretty little head of yours when trying to sneak into my chambers.”

what does he take you for?! “...are you accusing me of something indecent?!”

“just saying — i've met lots of prisoners with your excuse, my lady.”

“i'm prepared to use this knife, you know.”

“hah.” wriothesley grins. “how aggressive. more aggressive than most. do you want me that bad?”

“stop twisting my words!”)

in any case, you hate wriothesley. you know he's one of the characters in Teyvat's Seven Stars and is a villain for one of the easy love interest routes in the game, but his personality is... a real piece of work.

you'd rather the protective and kind kazuha, or even the charming and elusive lyney! why did it have to be him?

not only did he not believe you, he even told you to prove your authenticity! you're just glad that his assistant sigewinne had been there to vouch for you — you're not sure if you'd even be on your two feet right now if she didn't.

so now you're stuck constantly on your feet, running to and fro — helping the dark-haired man record new prisoners, establishing trading routes to the main city of Fontaine, and treating other prisoners of the fortress with sigewinne.

your biggest surprise by far, though, is just how... different the duke is from the rumors. his scars were merely battle scars of honor (to which sigewinne rolls her eyes, “your grace, please stop trying to look cool”) he got from various succession fights, not scars to show how he was cursed to turn into a beast. he has a love for tea, but always seems to have a cup of your favorite blend with him when you feel tired after a long day of working (laboring) for him and the estate.

(“your daily report of new convicts, your grace.”

“-this is the tea you like, your grace. i've prepared it in advance.”

“you're very adamant on proving yourself. aren't you sick of such tasks by now, miss prisoner?”

“no.” wriothesley's expression screams 'why not?' on it. “ it's because of my own misjudgement of you.”

“...elaborate.”

“i may have had unnecessary prejudices on your conduct thus far. but you're... not like what the rumors paint you out to be.” you say sincerely. “you're more amazing and incredible than anyone else. i truly do admire you.”

wriothesley's expression; you couldn't decipher it. “i see.”)

he's battered, but caring. sigewinne makes you watch (in horror) as she doodles cartoonish looking characters on his face when he's asleep — wriothesley never fusses, only an exasperated sigh to his assistant. he's harsh with his tasks and duties, but is the first to rush you into sigewinne's infirmary to tend to you after you pass out from overwork.

(“don't worry, [name]. the duke may not look it, but he's very gentle!” sigewinne giggles. humoring the little girl who was the first to show you actual decency in this place, you try to nod. sigewinne doesn't seem convinced.

“i'm serious! after all, compared to other people who've snuck into the fortress, you're the first he's treated this way.” she says cheerily.

“what does that mean?” you can't help but scoff at that. “so he just works someone to the bone from the get go?” you shudder. damn production zone...

sigewinne blinks. “ oh no, not like that. it's just that he's never been so lenient before. in fact, when you fainted, he even gave me the order to prioritize treating you over anything else.”)

well, this wasn't exactly what you thought you would be doing when you transmigrated into your favorite game, but you suppose you can take it.

besides, you'd miss a certain duke otherwise. life truly is full of strange twists....

a/n: thank you for making it this far! if anyone asks why wriothesley's was short, listen, this was completely impulsive and i was out of inspiration LOL, but i do hope you enjoy! look forward to new parts though hehe :3

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[zoofzoofxx]

—The art of eyecontact—

Pairings ; Axel Kovacevic x fem!reader

Summary ; Upon arriving in Barcelona with your group, Miyagi-Do, to participate in the prestigious Sekai Takai tournament, you encounter a tall and formidable opponent. Your initial meeting is less than ideal, leaving both of you with a poor first impression of each other. However, everything changes when you uncover a surprising secret about him. This discovery shifts your perspective entirely, prompting you to confront him. What begins as a tense interaction unexpectedly evolves into a deeper understanding, and the two of you gradually grow closer in ways neither of you anticipated.

Trigger warning ; Physical abuse, violence, emotional abuse.

Pt. 1

୨୧・・・・♡・・・・୨୧

After arriving at the hotel, exhausted and looking as though I haven’t slept in weeks, I pick up the key to my room, which I’m sharing with Sam. I give her a quick nod to let her know I’ll head up to the room, and she simply nods back, already engrossed in a conversation with her boyfriend, Miguel.

With my suitcase in one hand and my bag in the other, I put my AirPods back in and turn on my music before stepping into the elevator. The ride is quiet, and I find myself zoning out until the familiar ding signals that I’ve reached my floor.

Pulling the handle of my suitcase, I step out of the elevator, scrolling through my phone without bothering to look up. Before I know it, I collide with someone and fall to the ground, one of my AirPods tumbling out in the process. Startled, I look up, ready to apologize for not paying attention—but before I can say a word, he beats me to it.

‘Watch where you’re going,’ he says, rolling his eyes in obvious annoyance

‘I’m sorry,’ I say quickly, standing up and grabbing my fallen AirPod.

He sighed, his gaze feeling as though it pierced directly into my soul. He appeared cold and tense. ‘Just don’t let it happen again,’ he said, not giving me a chance to respond before walking away.

I exhaled slowly, gathering my belongings and glancing at my hotel card to find my room number. As I looked around, I realized I had ended up right in front of my hotel room. With a soft sigh, I stepped inside, taking a moment to settle myself. I reminded myself that I still had two hours to prepare before we needed to leave for the city tour. The quiet of the room allowed me to relax for a brief moment, and I moved calmly to unpack and get ready, focusing on the next part of the day without letting the earlier encounter distract me.

—

As I stood in the bathroom, the cold water from the shower running over me, I couldn’t help but think about the guy from earlier. He was likely my opponent. He was tall, with striking blue eyes and brown hair. There was something about him—he seemed unbothered, almost arrogant, yet calm and tense all at once. The mix of qualities made him difficult to read.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a knock on the door. It was probably Sam, letting me know she had arrived back at the hotel as well. I turned off the shower, quickly blow-drying my hair before slipping into a simple white long-sleeve shirt and grey Nike sweatpants.

Walking out of the bathroom, I grabbed my makeup kit and sat down, ready to get prepared for the evening. The calm of the moment allowed me to focus, shifting my attention away from the earlier encounter and onto the night ahead.

—

‘Team events will begin tomorrow,’ Sam remarked as she adjusted her outfit in the mirror. I sat quietly, scrolling through my phone, waiting for her to finish and let me know when she was ready to head out. After a few moments, she signaled that she was all set, and we made our way to the lobby to continue with our plans for the evening.

‘So… are you feeling a bit stressed?’ Sam asked, her tone casual as she glanced at me. ‘With the fact that Tory is now in Cobra Kai and you’re the captain?’

Tory had left right when she was about to win against Samantha, which led to me having to compete against Sam for the captain’s position. In the end, I came out on top.

‘No, I’m just worried about Tory, that’s all,’ I replied, stepping out of the elevator. As soon as I did, I felt a pair of eyes boring into me. It was the guy from earlier—the one I had bumped into. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I quickly looked away, feeling a sudden wave of discomfort wash over me.

I turned to Sam and told her about the encounter, and she glanced at him quickly before nudging me with her elbow, a playful smirk crossing her face.

‘Ow,’I exclaimed, flinching from the sudden nudge, and Sam responded by wiggling her eyebrows mischievously.

I raised an eyebrow, giving her a look that silently reminded her she had a boyfriend. Sam simply raised her hands in mock surrender, grinning, and then walked off toward the bathroom. I waited outside, shaking my head.

—

The photographer announced that he wanted a group photo with just the captains. I stood next to Robby, both of us smiling for the camera. The photographer then said something about the guy in the back, urging him to smile as well. I glanced over, and there he was—smiling at the camera before his gaze shifted to meet mine. A sigh escaped me as I quickly looked away, a familiar nervous feeling creeping up once again.

—

The next day, I felt the weight of stress settling on my shoulders—today was the first day of the tournament, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Wanting to shake off my nerves, I left the hotel early to give myself a chance to warm up. As I made my way toward the locker rooms to drop off my things, a voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I turned, and there he was—the mysterious guy from yesterday.

He was training with his sensei, who was urging him to move faster. The guy struggled to keep up, failing repeatedly, much to his sensei’s frustration. Unexpectedly, the sensei struck him multiple times, demanding he try again. The guy made another attempt, but once more, he failed and took a few more hits. As he turned to face me, our eyes locked for a brief moment.

I quickly looked away, eager to leave without drawing attention. I hurried into the locker rooms, hoping he hadn’t noticed me. The encounter left me unsettled, and I stood there in silence, trying to process what had just happened. I didn’t know how to feel about the situation.

—

The first competition ended in a swift, crushing loss. As I left the court, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on me. I kept replaying the match in my mind, second-guessing every decision and wondering if I had let my team down. It felt like the entire tournament might slip away because of me. Despite my best efforts to stay calm, the guilt and stress gnawed at me.

I was the first to retreat to the locker room, hoping to find some solace and a bottle of water to clear my head. But as I opened the storage, I saw that all the bottles were empty. I sighed, trying to steady the nervous energy bubbling under the surface. Deciding to head to the canteen, I reminded myself that there were still two hours before the next event. That gave me time to regroup and pull myself together—or so I hoped.

As I entered the canteen, my eyes landed almost immediately on him. He stood near the fridge, tall and poised as ever, with his hair styled perfectly, as if he hadn’t just come from the chaos of competition. My stomach tightened, and my heart began to race, though I desperately willed it to stop. Of all people to see right now, it had to be him. I didn’t want to face him—especially not now, when I felt like a failure. My shoulders tensed as I resolved to stick to my plan: grab a bottle, stay invisible, and leave as quickly as possible.

I moved swiftly to the fridge, avoiding eye contact and keeping my head down. My thoughts were a swirl of self-consciousness and unease. Did he notice me? Was he going to say anything about the match? Every moment I spent near him felt like an eternity, but, to my relief, I managed to grab the water and make it to the line without incident.

As I stood waiting my turn to pay, I tried to focus on anything but the awkwardness still lingering from the match. My hands were fidgety, and I shifted my weight slightly, anxious to get out of there. Then, as if the universe had decided I needed one more challenge, my opponent from the earlier competition lined up behind me. I could feel his presence without even turning around— it was palpable, a stark and unwelcome reminder of the loss I was already struggling to push from my mind.

When it was finally my turn to pay, I reached into my pocket and froze. My wallet wasn’t there. A cold wave of panic swept over me as I realized I’d left it in my bag back in the locker room. Feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I quickly turned to the cashier and asked if she could give me a moment to retrieve it. Her response was curt and final: the line was too long, and she couldn’t wait.

Humiliated, I had no choice but to leave the canteen empty-handed. The sting of rejection added another layer to my already fragile mood. I stepped outside into the crisp air, taking slow, deliberate breaths in an effort to calm myself. I stretched, more out of habit than necessity, and tried to regain a sense of control.

Even as the fresh air began to soothe my nerves, the doubt lingered. It felt like everything was spiraling, and I couldn’t help but feel that it was all my fault. Still, I reminded myself that there was time to turn things around. The tournament wasn’t over yet, and I couldn’t let this moment define the rest of the day. Though the insecurity remained, I resolved to keep pushing forward, however shaky my confidence felt.

—

After returning to the locker room, I sat down quietly next to my bag, letting the silence of the space settle around me. As I unzipped the bag, my eyes were drawn to two ice-cold water bottles lying inside, their surfaces glistening faintly. I paused, blinking at them in mild confusion, trying to piece together how I hadn’t noticed them earlier. I looked up, my thoughts momentarily scattered, unsure whether to feel relieved, amused, or simply puzzled by the discovery.

‘Was anyone here?’ I asked Demetri, holding up the bottles of water and glancing at him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. My voice was calm, but my mind raced slightly, trying to make sense of their sudden appearance.

‘Yeah, the girl from Iron Dragons, Zara, I think,’ Demetri explained quickly. ‘She said you needed some water but forgot your wallet, so she brought these for you.’

The Iron Dragons—that was the team the tall guy was from. From what I knew, Zara was their captain. I hadn’t expected her to do something like this, but I couldn’t help feeling a slight wave of gratitude. I decided I would thank her later, once the next competition was over. For now, I just needed to focus on what was ahead.

I grabbed the water bottle, a quiet wave of gratitude passing through me. It was a small gesture, but it made a difference in that moment. Taking a deep breath, I decided to search for my teammates and gather them together. I needed to rally them, give them a motivational speech, even though, deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the loss in the first competition was mostly my fault. Still, I knew I had to set that aside and focus on getting everyone back on track for the next round.

—

It was time for the next event, and the pressure was mounting. There were different categories, but we lost almost all of them. The only victories came from the 2vs1 match, where Miguel secured a win, and the Bojutsu (staff technique/ art of stick fighting), where I managed to come out on top.

The following day brought a small victory—we won once, but it came with its own challenges. Our task was to force the opponent to fall from the podium, and only Miguel managed to win and stay on it. The weight of it all hit harder when I saw our team nearly at the bottom of the standings. The stress was becoming overwhelming; we were running out of time, and the gap between us and the top seemed to grow wider with each passing moment.

The next event was the elimination phase of Sakai Taikai, and as the moment drew closer, an overwhelming sense of anxiety crept back into my mind. I couldn’t shake the thought that I might lose because of my own small mistakes, and it was a nagging feeling that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second.

It was a 2v2 on a high platform, a challenging setup that added to the pressure. The Iron Dragons went first with their demonstration. The tall guy—who I knew to be an exceptional competitor—was flawless. He moved with such grace and precision that he wasn’t even touched once by his opponent. I couldn’t help but watch in awe as he maneuvered effortlessly across the platform, his every movement exuding confidence and skill. Before I could think much more about it, I overheard Demetri and Hawk talking nearby. Their conversation snapped me out of my thoughts as they referred to the tall guy as a “monster” because of his skill. The words hit me differently than I expected—guilt crept in. It didn’t feel right to hear them speak about him behind his back like that, especially when he was right there, demonstrating his abilities so effortlessly. I felt a pang of discomfort, as if they were undermining his talent. I couldn’t let it slide.

‘Don’t call him a monster,’ I exclaimed, my voice firm. ‘You don’t know him or what he deals with.’

They exchanged glances before looking at me, their expressions softening. I could see the apology in their eyes, and for a moment, the tension in the air seemed to ease. They nodded slightly, acknowledging what I had said, and I felt a small sense of relief. It wasn’t right to judge someone so quickly, and I wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen.

They announced that it was our turn. Roby and I were the first to step onto the podium to fight. As I climbed the stairs, the height of the platform hit me all at once, and my knees felt like they might give way, soft as cotton. Despite the flutter of nerves, I focused on doing my best, trying to shake off the unease.

Then, suddenly, our eyes met—the tall guy again. For a brief moment, I froze, distracted by the connection. My opponent saw the opening and almost pushed me off the platform. Just as I was about to lose my footing, Roby took a risk and managed to eliminate two opponents at once. The crowd erupted in cheers, and I heard the rush of feet as the other competitors came charging in, with Sam joining me on the platform.

Time passed, and it all came down to the final two opponents. Now, it was Miguel’s turn to step in and help me finish it. As we worked together to eliminate them, I felt a small surge of pride. I hadn’t fallen once, and that, in itself, was enough to bring a little bit of happiness in the midst of the chaos.

—

Everyone in our group was cheering after the competition. We were relieved and excited that we hadn’t been eliminated and that we still had a chance to continue in Sakai Taikai. But amidst the celebration, Miguel was nowhere to be found.

Just as Robby and I were catching our breath, we were called to the side by our Senseis. Their faces were serious, and I could feel the shift in the air as they delivered the bad news. One of our Senseis, along with Miguel, had to leave immediately. Miguel’s mother had been hospitalized, and there were complications with her pregnancy.

The weight of the situation hit me hard. Not only were we down one Sensei, but we were also losing a teammate. I couldn’t help but feel a deep concern for Miguel’s mother. I hoped she would pull through and that everything would turn out okay. It was hard to focus on anything else when I knew Miguel’s family needed him, and I hoped she’d recover quickly.

—

While everyone else was out partying at some random club in Barcelona, I found myself binge-watching a film series. After a while, I decided I needed a change of pace and thought a walk along the beach might clear my mind. I threw on a white hoodie and some black leggings, grabbed a bottle of water for the walk, and headed out. The evening air was cool, and I was ready for a little solitude by the ocean.

—

I walked for a moment, my thoughts still lingering on the events of the day, until I found myself at the beach. As I looked around, my eyes landed on someone standing nearby, shirtless. I blinked, and as I drew closer, I realized it was the tall guy from earlier.

The brown-haired boy was diligently practicing a series of movements, each one executed with remarkable precision and fluidity. Despite my exhaustion and the haze clouding my thoughts, I couldn’t seem to pull my gaze away. There was something captivating about the way he moved, as though every motion was deliberate and purposeful. My fatigue seemed to fade into the background as I became mesmerized by his focus and technique. It was almost as if everything around me disappeared, and I was entirely absorbed in watching him. I couldn’t help but wonder about the discipline and dedication that went into mastering such skills, but at the same time, I felt too drained to even process the thoughts fully. But then, my attention shifted when I noticed some red marks on his back. They stood out against his skin, drawing my gaze away from his fluid motions, and I couldn’t help but wonder how they had gotten there.

Suddenly, he executed a move that caused him to turn and face me directly. His expression shifted from focus to surprise, and for a moment, he froze, caught off guard by my presence. It was as if the sudden shift in direction had momentarily thrown him off balance, and we stood there in an awkward silence, both taken aback by the unexpected encounter.

‘Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,’ I exclaimed, taking a step closer. As I moved, the cold wind hit me, sending a shiver down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill, but my attention remained on him, feeling the awkwardness between us linger in the air.

‘Uhm… I’m Y/n, by the way,’ I said, tilting my head to the side, feeling a bit shy and insecure. My voice was soft, unsure of how to break the silence. I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward standing there, hoping my introduction might ease the tension, even though my nerves made it hard to feel at ease.

‘Axel,’ he said, his voice a little stiff as he shifted slightly, looking tense and uncomfortable. I could tell he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation either, and his unease mirrored my own. The air between us felt a little thick, and I found myself wishing I could think of something to say to make it less awkward.

‘That’s a pretty cool kata. What’s it called?’ I asked softly, hoping to break the awkward silence. My voice was tentative, but I genuinely wanted to know. It felt like the right way to ease the tension between us, even if I was still a little unsure of myself.

‘I’m not supposed to talk to the opponents,’ he exclaimed, his tone a bit stubborn. There was a hint of defensiveness in his words, as if he was trying to set a boundary, but it only added to the awkwardness. I could tell he was trying to stick to some kind of rule, and I immediately felt a bit embarrassed for having spoken up.

‘We’re not on the mat,’ I said with a small smile, feeling the blush creep up my nose. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold, the embarrassment, or my own shyness causing the heat to rise in my cheeks, but I tried to brush it off. The awkwardness was still there, but I hoped my attempt at humor might ease the tension just a bit.

‘It’s pretty late for training,’ I exclaimed, sighing as I tried to warm up my hands by rubbing them together. The cold was starting to get to me, and I couldn’t help but feel the discomfort in my fingers. I glanced at Axel, hoping to ease the awkwardness with a casual comment, but the tension still lingered between us.

‘Always time for training,’ he said, his tone firm and matter-of-fact. His words carried a quiet determination, and for a moment, I felt like I was glimpsing a side of him that was completely focused, almost unshakable.

After he said that, he reached down to grab his shirt from the sand. As he moved, the red marks on his back became more visible, standing out sharply against his skin. I couldn’t help but notice them, the vividness of the marks raising questions in my mind.

‘Whoa, whoa… what happened to your back?’ I asked cautiously as he pulled his shirt over his head, my voice filled with concern as I took a few small steps forward. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I was overstepping, but the marks were too striking to ignore. My curiosity and worry outweighed my hesitation.

‘Uh, from the bo staff competition,’ he answered quickly, his tone dismissive as he avoided meeting my concerned gaze. It was clear he didn’t want to dwell on it, brushing it off as if it were nothing, but the marks told a different story.

‘Nobody’s been able to land a point on you yet,’ I said, my tone light but observant. His reaction was immediate—he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze even more than before. The tension in his demeanor made me pause, debating whether or not to bring up what I had seen earlier during his training with his sensei. The memory of those moments weighed on my thoughts, but I wasn’t sure if addressing it would make things better or worse.

‘I saw what happened with your sensei,’ I said softly, breaking the silence. My tone was careful, not wanting to sound intrusive, but I felt the need to acknowledge what I had witnessed.

‘My sensei wants me to be the best. It’s because of him I never lose.’ he said coldly, his sharp tone cutting through the air as he looked directly at me. His gaze was steady, but there was an edge to it, as though he was daring me to challenge his words.

‘There are other ways of teaching,’ I said, my voice laced with concern. I couldn’t help but feel worried, sensing that his sensei’s approach might be pushing him too hard. I wanted to say more, but I wasn’t sure if I should press further.

‘I mean, I got to admit, your dojo’s pretty great,’ I exclaimed, offering him a friendly smile. I hoped my words would ease the tension, acknowledging his dedication while keeping the conversation light. Despite my concern, I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

‘Thank you,’ Axel said, his tone softer, looking a little more at ease now. ‘You’re pretty… Your… Your dojo’s pretty good too.’ He added quickly, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks, though I suspected it might have been as much from the cold as from his sudden shyness. His words caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the tension ease between us.

‘We try,’ I said with a small smile, hoping to reassure him. I could see the tension easing slightly, and I wanted to keep things light. The moment felt less awkward, and I was relieved for it.

‘Mind if I join?’ Axel asked, and the question caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to ask, but there was a hint of curiosity in his voice that made me pause for a moment.

‘You want to switch dojo’s?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows in shock. The idea hadn’t crossed my mind, and I was curious about why he’d bring it up. It seemed like a bold move, especially given how dedicated he was to his current dojo.

‘Your walk. I was going back to hotel.’ he said, pointing towards the route I was supposed to take. It took me a moment to process what he meant, but then I realized he was offering to join me on the walk back, which felt unexpected but kind.

‘Oh, yeah,’ I laughed awkwardly, caught off guard by the offer. ‘Yeah, sure,’ I added quickly, hoping to reassure him. As we started walking, I couldn’t help but notice the height difference between us—he towered over me, and I felt a little small in comparison, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just another thing that made the moment feel a little surreal.

As we walked along the beach, the soothing sound of the waves crashing in the background, our conversation turned to travel. We began talking about the countries we had visited, sharing stories of our experiences in different places. The gentle breeze and the calming rhythm of the ocean made the conversation feel easy and natural, and for the first time that night, I felt completely at ease. From what he mentioned, it seemed like he had traveled to every country in Europe. He shared details about different cities and cultures he’d encountered, his experiences coming across as both vast and fascinating. It made me realize just how much he had seen and done, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at his travels. He also asked me a few questions, curious about my thoughts on Barcelona. He wanted to know what I thought of the city, what I hoped to visit, and what I wanted to do while I was here. His questions felt genuine, and I found myself sharing more than I had planned, enjoying the flow of our conversation. It was nice to talk about my plans without feeling rushed or pressured.

We laughed and enjoyed the moment, the conversation flowing easily, until one of our opponents from Tory’s team approached us with a few of his friends. The sudden interruption broke the easy atmosphere, and I could feel a shift in the air as they came closer.

‘How cute!’ Kwon exclaimed, tilting his head in sarcastic awe. His tone was playful yet teasing, as if he was trying to get a reaction from us. It was clear he wasn’t just making a casual comment, but rather trying to stir things up a bit

‘Little rival team play time, huh?’ he said with a grin, his words slurring slightly. It was clear he was definitely not sober, and his carefree smile made the situation feel a bit awkward. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, as if he was trying to provoke something.

‘Just ignore them,’ I said with a sigh, glancing at Axel. I could feel the tension creeping in, but I didn’t want to let it ruin the moment. I hoped Axel would let it slide too, as it was clear Kwon’s words were meant more to tease than to start a real confrontation. I tried to walk past them, but they shifted right in front of me, giving me a big, smug smile. It was like they were blocking my path on purpose, clearly enjoying the chance to get under my skin.

‘Say the magic words,’ Kwon laughed, raising his eyebrows playfully. His grin widened, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should.

‘Move aside,’ I said, my tone laced with clear annoyance. I wasn’t in the mood for their games, and I made sure they knew it as I stood my ground.

‘Wrong,’ he said sternly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more confrontational. The tone in his voice made it clear he wasn’t going to let me off that easily.

‘Just leave us alone,” I sighed, frustration creeping into my voice. I was done with their teasing and just wanted to move on, hoping they’d finally get the hint. Kwon kneeled to my height and smiled, his expression mocking yet somehow amused. It was as if he thought the whole situation was a game, and I was the one missing the joke.

‘Only if you say please,’ he laughed, getting uncomfortably close, his face now just inches from mine. The mocking tone in his voice made my irritation grow, but I stood my ground, refusing to let him get under my skin.

That was the final straw for Axel. His expression darkened as his fist clenched tightly at his side. One of Kwon’s friends caught the movement and took it as a signal to strike, delivering a swift kick to Axel’s stomach. To my surprise, Axel barely even flinched, standing firm as if the attack hadn’t phased him.

At the same moment, the other friend of Kwon lunged toward me. Axel reacted immediately, dealing with his opponent effortlessly, his precision and speed almost intimidating. Inspired by his confidence, I focused on my attacker, countering their moves and managing to take them down just as effectively. The entire exchange was over in moments, leaving Kwon’s friends clearly outmatched.

Axel and I turned our attention to Kwon, who stood his ground with an overly confident smirk. ‘Come on, I’ll take you both. Let’s go,’ he taunted, his bravado thick in the air. But before he could make a move, one of his friends grabbed his arm and urged him to stop.

‘Let’s get out of here. The cops are coming,’ his friend said, the urgency in his voice cutting through Kwon’s bravado.

Sure enough, the faint wail of police sirens echoed in the distance. Without hesitation, Axel and I exchanged a quick glance and bolted in the opposite direction, heading back toward the beach.

By the time we stopped, both of us were out of breath, the cool ocean breeze offering some relief as we tried to collect ourselves. The tension of the moment slowly gave way to exhaustion, the sounds of the waves a stark contrast to the chaos we’d just escaped.

‘Cobra Kai… those assholes,’ I muttered between breaths, my frustration evident as I leaned forward, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. The adrenaline was still coursing through me, but the tension was beginning to ebb, replaced by a simmering annoyance at what had just unfolded.

‘Nice round kick,’ he said, his tone genuine as his eyes stayed fixed on me. There was a flicker of admiration in his gaze, and it caught me off guard for a moment. I straightened up, still trying to steady my breath, feeling a mix of pride and self-consciousness under his watchful look.

‘Nice counterstrike,’ I said between breaths, managing a small smile.

Axel returned the gesture with a genuine smile of his own, his gaze never wavering from mine. There was something steady and unwavering about the way he looked at me, and it made me feel oddly at ease despite everything that had just happened.

For a moment, the only sounds between us were the crashing waves in the distance and our labored breaths as we worked to steady ourselves. The adrenaline was beginning to fade, leaving behind a strange sense of calm in the cool night air.

I exhaled deeply, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. My eyes scanned the area cautiously, the sound of the waves in the background grounding me. After another moment, I sighed again and checked once more before turning to Axel.

‘I think the coast is clear,’ I said softly, breaking the silence.

When I looked at him, I realized he was still watching me, his expression unreadable but intent. There was something in his gaze—an almost admiring quality—that made my heart skip for a moment. I quickly glanced away, unsure of how to react to the unexpected attention.

I took a quick glance at Axel, my heart racing when I saw he was still looking at me. Our eyes locked, and something shifted in the air between us. Feeling the pull, I couldn’t look away and decided to meet his gaze.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between us. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes, the height difference suddenly feeling more pronounced. He gently cupped my cheek with one hand, his touch warm and reassuring. With the other, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin. His expression softened, his eyes flickering between mine and my lips.

The closeness was intoxicating, and before I knew it, he began to lean in, his face inches from mine. My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, I was ready to give in. But then, a sudden rush of doubt and hesitation swept over me.

‘Woah, no, no…’ I stammered, taking a few quick steps back. The air between us suddenly felt thick with tension, and I could feel the familiar rush of awkwardness creeping back, just like it had at the beginning of our conversation.

I avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the ground, unsure of what to do next. The moment that had felt so intense just moments ago now seemed like a mistake. Why had I pulled away? I had no idea, but the uncertainty left me with a knot in my stomach. Axel didn’t say anything right away, and for a second, the silence stretched between us like an unspoken question hanging in the air.

I tried to steady my breathing, hoping the moment would pass quickly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just made things even more awkward.

‘I-I’m sorry… I thought-‘ Axel started, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right thing to say.

He seemed just as uncertain as I was, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and embarrassment. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, and it made me feel even more guilty for pulling away.

I bit my lip, unsure of how to break the silence. The tension hung thick between us, but neither of us seemed to know how to ease it. It felt like everything had shifted in an instant, and now I wasn’t sure how to fix it without making it worse.

‘It’s already after curfew. We should get going,’ His voice was cold, the warmth from earlier now completely gone.

The shift was immediate. The tension between us that had been so palpable moments before evaporated, but not in a way that made me feel better. Instead, it felt like we had just snapped back to some kind of awkward normalcy—where he was distant and aloof again, and I was left fumbling for the right words.

I couldn’t tell if he was still hurt by my reaction or if he was simply shutting himself off, but either way, the walls between us were up once more, and I wasn’t sure how to bring them down.

—

The walk to the hotel was silent—so silent it felt suffocating. Each step felt heavier, the air thick with unspoken words. The usual ease between us was gone, replaced by an awkward distance I couldn’t seem to close.

I stopped abruptly, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. Axel walked a few steps further before halting, turning back to look at me, his expression confused.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been since… well, since everything had changed.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what I was feeling anymore. But I could tell that whatever had just happened between us—whatever I had done—had shifted something. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt like the space between us had grown wider than it had ever been before.

I grabbed my phone and glanced at the clock—it was 5 p.m. In an hour, the sunrise would begin. A sudden urge to be by the ocean took over me, the need for some space, for clarity. I sighed quietly to myself and turned to Axel.

‘I’m going back to the beach,’ I said softly. ‘You can head back to the hotel. Goodnight.’

I gave him a small wave and started walking away, my footsteps steady, but my mind still racing.

But then I heard them—footsteps. I stopped, turned, and looked back. It was Axel, walking a few paces behind me. We locked eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded. His gaze was soft, unreadable, but it felt like there was so much unsaid in the space between us. He didn’t say anything, not a single word, but his presence spoke louder than anything could.

I stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Neither of us moved, but neither of us looked away either. The silence lingered, heavy and familiar.

I smiled softly, then turned back and began walking toward the beach. By the time I arrived, the air was colder than I expected, A crisp chill in the air made me pull my hoodie tighter around me, trying to keep the cold at bay. I sat down, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to find warmth in the stillness of the night.

Without a word, Axel appeared beside me. He gently draped his jacket over my shoulders, the warmth of it wrapping around me, offering more comfort than I realized I needed. I looked up, my breath catching for a second as I met his gaze, but he was already taking a few steps back, distancing himself.

He sat down a bit further away, his eyes fixed on the beach and the waves rolling in under the dark sky. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow on everything, but I found my attention drifting back to Axel. I couldn’t help it. His quiet demeanor, the way he observed the world around him—it was like he was in tune with everything. For a moment, I caught myself admiring him, his profile soft in the moonlight, his posture relaxed yet strong.

The silence between us felt comfortable, not awkward. It was as though, in this moment, there was no need for words. We just existed together, the sound of the waves, the chill in the air, and the quiet understanding between us.

The sun was about to rise any minute, and I glanced over at Axel, who looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep. I felt guilty for dragging him out here. Standing up, I walked over to him and handed his jacket back, noticing how cold it was and how he only had a sleeveless shirt on. Without saying anything, I sat next to him, gently placing his head on my shoulder, offering him the warmth I could.

I heard Axel sigh softly, and when I looked over at him, he seemed lost in thought. My gaze drifted to the waves, and just then, the sun began to rise, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. The sight made me straighten my posture, while Axel stretched and yawned, still staring at the horizon in silence. I couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful moment, before standing up and grabbing my phone to capture a photo of the sunrise.

I gently patted Axel’s head, feeling his messy hair beneath my hand. He looked so relaxed, yet on the verge of falling asleep. He looked up at me, and I gave him a soft smile, an unfamiliar flutter starting in my stomach. He slowly stood up, taking a few steps back before raising his phone. I turned to look at him, and to my surprise, he was taking a photo of me with the sunrise behind me. I couldn’t help but smile wider, feeling a faint blush creeping up my nose as I realized how much I enjoyed this moment.

As Axel put his phone down, I walked over to him, unable to resist the urge to give him a big hug. There were no words exchanged, just the sound of silence, the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore, and the warmth of the moment. As we pulled apart, the sunlight hit Axel’s face, casting a golden glow. He squinted slightly from the brightness, but the way the light accentuated his features made him even more captivating.

Without thinking, I reached out, cupping his cheek gently. He looked down at me with a soft, almost questioning gaze, and I couldn’t quite place the feeling swirling in my chest. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the long day, the weight of everything that had happened since the Sekai Taikai, or maybe it was just the way Axel made me feel like I was losing control of my thoughts.

I leaned in, my hands cradling his face, giving him one last, lingering look. His breath caught slightly, and for a moment, I hesitated, unsure of what was driving me. But the pull between us was undeniable. Without thinking further, I closed the space between us, pressing my lips to his.

The moment our lips met, everything seemed to pause. It wasn’t forceful or rushed, but rather soft, tentative—like we were both unsure yet certain at the same time. The warmth from his skin, the faint scent of the ocean mixed with the remnants of his cologne, surrounded me. I felt the gentle press of his lips against mine, a quiet reassurance, as though he was waiting for me to pull away if I needed to.

I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned into him just slightly, feeling the way his hand hesitated at my waist before it gently rested there, steadying both of us. His lips moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring the moment. There was a vulnerability in it, an unspoken question, and it made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected.

Time seemed to stretch, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else became a blur. It was just the two of us, caught in this quiet, intimate exchange that somehow spoke louder than any words could.

When we finally pulled apart, my head rested on his chest, breathless. My heart was pounding, my body still humming from the kiss. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair from my face, his eyes soft with something that felt like understanding—maybe even a little awe. Neither of us said anything, but in the silence, there was a shared certainty. It had happened.

—

Walking back to the hotel was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was that kind of silence where everything felt right, where words weren’t needed to fill the space. We just enjoyed each other’s company, the soft rhythm of our footsteps in sync.

When we reached my hotel room, I turned to face him, my hands resting gently on his shoulders. Before either of us could say anything, he leaned in, and we kissed again. This time, it was different. It was deeper, more intense, as if we were trying to memorize every sensation in case it was the last time. The kiss held a sense of urgency, an unspoken longing. Even though we both knew we’d see each other again that evening, in that moment, it felt like saying goodbye.

We pulled back reluctantly, but neither of us wanted to let go. Axel gave me a quick, soft kiss on the lips before stepping into the elevator. As the door began to close, I waved at him, my cheeks flushed with a mix of warmth and the excitement of the moment.

The elevator door closed with a soft ding, and I turned to face my room, my heart still racing. I knocked on the door, hoping Sam would be inside, but there was no response. No sign of life from the other side. Sighing, I leaned against the door, feeling a little deflated but still smiling, the feeling of Axel’s kiss lingering on my lips.

—

I leaned against the wall for a few minutes, the silence of the hallway around me, letting my mind replay the moments with Axel. Then, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, surprised to see a notification: Axel had followed me on Instagram.

A smile tugged at my lips as I quickly tapped the follow button to return the gesture. Right after, I saw the message pop up from him. My heart skipped a beat as I opened it.

‘Have a nice sleep. Thank you for today,’

I sighed, smiling to myself as I replayed the events of the night in my head. The warmth from our kiss still lingered, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness that was hard to shake. But then, suddenly, a thought hit me—I didn’t have a room to go to.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized that Sam was probably still out and I hadn’t made any arrangements for the night. I glanced at the empty hallway, feeling a little lost. The idea of wandering around the hotel wasn’t exactly appealing

‘Axel, could you do me a favor?’ I typed, my fingers pausing before I hit send.

‘Of course, what is it?’ The text said and I sighed.

‘I seem to have forgotten my room key, and I don’t really want to wake up Sam. Could you help me out and let me crash in your room for the night? Just until morning,’ I texted, hitting send before I could second-guess myself.

I smiled, feeling a mix of relief and excitement as I read his message. Room 415. I quickly grabbed my things and made my way to the elevator. My heart raced a little faster than usual, but this time it wasn’t from anxiety—it was more of an anticipation.

As I stood waiting for the elevator doors to open, my phone buzzed again. Another notification from Axel.

‘Don’t worry, the bed’s big enough. You can relax.’

I chuckled softly to myself, feeling even more at ease. With a quick breath, I stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed behind me. It wasn’t much longer before I reached his floor.

I walked down the hallway, my footsteps almost echoing in the quiet of the night. When I arrived at his door, I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly.

The door opened almost immediately, and Axel stood there with a relaxed smile on his face, clearly having been waiting for me.

‘Hey,’ he greeted, stepping aside to let me in. ‘Make yourself at home.’

I stepped inside, feeling a warm sense of comfort wash over me. The quiet intimacy of the room felt calming, and I couldn’t help but feel a little more at peace.

I looked at Axel, taking in his casual yet somehow perfect appearance: a black hoodie, a white shirt underneath, and grey sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly handsome. There was a comfort in the way he stood, relaxed but confident.

I walked up to him, my heart pounding a little faster, the distance between us growing smaller with each step. Standing on my tiptoes, I gently cupped his face before leaning in and kissing him softly. The kiss was light at first, tentative, but as I started to pull away, he caught me by the waist, pulling me closer. His lips met mine again, this time with more urgency, more passion. The kiss deepened, our connection intensifying, as if neither of us wanted to let go of this moment.

My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his hoodie, while his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. The room around us faded away, and all that mattered was the feeling of his lips on mine, the way his touch made my heart race. It was a kiss that said more than words could, a kiss that made everything else feel insignificant.

After some time, we reluctantly pulled away, the lingering warmth of the kiss still filling the air. I yawned, suddenly feeling how exhausted I was, the weight of the day catching up to me. Axel, noticing, gently handed me some clothes, and I smiled gratefully at him before heading into the bathroom.

The shower was quick but refreshing, the hot water washing away the tension and fatigue. I quickly braided my hair, feeling a little more awake as I stepped out of the bathroom. When I emerged, I saw Axel lying on the mattress on the floor, his eyes closed, clearly trying to get some rest. His posture was relaxed, and he seemed so at ease in the room, even though the circumstances weren’t ideal.

I paused for a moment, watching him. There was something so comforting about how he looked there, in his own little world, yet still so present with me. With a small sigh, I walked over to the edge of the mattress, sitting down beside him. He opened one eye, glancing up at me before offering a sleepy smile.

‘Getting some sleep now?’ I asked softly, trying not to disturb his calm.

‘Yeah, just waiting for you,’ he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness. ‘But, I’m not going to last long.’

I smile. ‘Why are you on the floor?’ I ask softly, gently caressing his cheek. ‘You can sleep with me if you’d like.’

Axel hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked up at me. The offer hung in the air between us, quiet but filled with unspoken understanding. He blinked slowly, clearly processing my words.

‘I didn’t want to make things awkward,’ he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. ‘I figured you’d prefer your space.’

I smiled, brushing my thumb across his cheek gently. ‘It’s not awkward,’ I reassured him. ‘You’re always welcome to be close. Don’t worry about it.’

He looked at me for a second longer before giving a small, almost shy smile. ‘Thanks.’

Without another word, he shifted, moving toward the bed, his body still tense but clearly relieved. He laid down next to me, a little awkwardly at first, but then his body relaxed as he settled in.

I pulled the blanket over both of us, my hand finding his, squeezing it gently. The warmth between us was comforting, and for a moment, everything felt right. We both closed our eyes, the silence between us now peaceful and easy, as we drifted off to sleep together.

A/N; hiii everyone, just finished watching cobra kai part 2 and I LOVE ITTT! I have such a MASSIVE crush on Axel :p I wanted to apologise for my spelling mistakes 😓 have a nice day further! love yourself and drink a lots of water :)

love ya

xoxo Z.S.

[gotta-winwin]

culinaryclasswars!mingyu x whitespoonchef!reader

a/n: culinary class wars will and always will be my roman empire and i can't help but imagine mingyu as a chef competing...

chef!mingyu already had a large internet following before coming to compete. he was widely known to korean netizens as the "househusband chef," famous for his charming looks and endearing persona.

chef!mingyu only joins the show after much persistence from everyone around him - telling him that it would be perfect to both connect with other chefs and to grow his own craft.

chef!mingyu enters filming the pilot, scared out of his wits at the sheer size of the production and the amount of highly respected chefs around him. as he watches more people walk in, the less he believes he's going to make it very far.

blackspoonchef!mingyu, whose very jaw drops at your entrance, rising up on a platform to greet them. he's always been a big fan of your work and your talent, silently mouthing to himself: she's even prettier in person.

blackspoonchef!mingyu works extra hard in the first challenge because he knows you're watching him. he pulls out all the stops, knowing this might be his only chance to impress you. to get you to notice him. in the end, it's both his intense concentration and skill that draw you closer to his station - and it's the bulging biceps and impressive technique that makes you stay.

blackspoonchef!mingyu, who seems to be silently watching you at all times, although he never approaches you during or after filming. you find yourself watching him back, entranced by his fluidity in the kitchen and the confidence that seems to ooze out of him. all your white spoon chef colleagues agree he's a formidable threat.

blackspoonchef!mingyu, who goes home every night after filming only to return to the kitchen, brainstorming creative recipes that would impress the judges. but most importantly, you. it's you he's thinking about while working, both trying to get your attention and your praise.

blackspoonchef!mingyu, who you quickly befriend during team challenges. he's easygoing and extremely fun to be around, making you crack up between shoots and bringing a permanent smile across your face. you find yourself less stressed whenever he's around.

blackspoonchef!mingyu's dreams are slowly coming true as the two of you grow closer. he's bursting from excitement just to be around you, let alone be your friend! he finds himself waking up fully ready to get back to work - competition stress gone and instead replaced by a bubbling feeling of .... is that love?

blackspoonchef!mingyu who can't help but grin whenever he's watching you compete. it's exhilarating to watch you in your element and all the cameras catch his whipped expression as he watches you intently. the hashtag househusbanddownbad trends on all social media platforms the day that episode airs.

blackspoonchef!mingyu who looks at you like you handcrafted each star and placed them in the sky yourself.

blackspoonchef!mingyu who's the first one up and clapping whenever it's announced that you've won your round, resisting the urge to run over and give you a hug. you're equally smitten as you beam up at him, proud that you've won and happy he's there to witness it.

chef!mingyu who's not beat up about the loss because at least now he can get your number and tell you his actual name. he's got a goofy grin as he watches you input your digits, breathlessly telling you that his name is mingyu. he watches you repeat the name and almost faints at the sound of it coming from you.

chef!mingyu who, despite losing, still visits the set every day to see you. he brings you lunch for your breaks, coffee for early mornings, somehow in tuned with your cravings and your needs. more often than not, he's there to drive you home after a long day of filming and cooking.

chef!mingyu, who is the first person you're looking for when you win.

chef!mingyu, who never ever would have imagined you'd ever like him back lets out a tiny gasp when you run into his open arms, going in for a kiss instead of a hug. he's frozen for a moment before realizing shit i should probably kiss her back. the moment is caught on camera, sending fans reeling at the swoon-worthy moment.

chefboyfriend!mingyu who cannot let you go the entire press tour.

[withclawandvine]

yes, there are more than enough barbarian!bakugou drabbles on this website. no, i do not care !! have another!!!

your father already has his heir and a spare, and therefore, has no real use for you. at least, until an advisor reminded him of the mournful tunes the bards have been singing since you came of age — a tragic face, they claimed. men have waged wars for less sweet a temptation.

soon after the announcement of your eligibility is made, the dining hall bloats with suitors and their emissaries, boasting and bargaining over their chances with wine-sour breath night after night, waiting for your father to make his decision. 

behind closed doors, members of his cabinet pitch the merits of this prince or that noble scion. there is talk of naval dominance and deep treasuries. but from where you listen — with your ear pressed to the door of a forgotten servant’s corridor at the back of the council chamber — nobody mentions that one of them is old enough to be your grandfather, or that one young king has already been widowed twice, under suspicious circumstances.

the contest was your idea, presented during a quiet meal with your father, in such a manner that made him believe it was his plan all along. of course these men should prove themselves. how else can he know which kingdom reared the strongest warrior? which ally would prove the wisest or most cunning? 

as your father expected, there are many challengers. and as time goes on, it becomes less about the honor of your hand than the glory of victory. consequently, the tasks become more and more improbable: piercing steel armor with delicate arrows made of blown glass, navigating rapids with neither sails nor oars, hunting down the fabled great horned beast of the northern mountains. 

as you hoped, months pass without a champion.

but the men chasing honor and acclaim bring riches and secrets, feeding your father’s treasury and arming his spies. you can almost taste the freedom of again being unuseful to him, sweet as the honeyed pear speared on your fork.

the fork falls from your hand when the massive doors to the great hall swing open and an imposing shadow comes into view. backlit by the setting sun, it is impossible to discern its features — beyond its size and the massive horns, curved and sharp as twin sickles. 

the stranger’s approach is slow and measured, and as he gets closer, the shadow becomes more corporeal. turns into a man. although, the ochre glow behind him makes him appear almost as a god. nobody in the hall dares to breathe.

only when he stops at the dias can you make out garnet eyes of a barbarian, peering at you through holes gouged in the pelt cloaking his entire form. he’s wearing the face of a beast you had never truly believed existed like a hood.

wordlessly, he closes a fist around the skin draped over his shoulder, whisking it off and tossing it unceremoniously at your feet. the horns hitting the stone floors crack like thunder, echoing off the cavernous ceiling.

he wears necklaces strung with teeth, but no armor. his bare chest should make him seem vulnerable. instead, it puts every scar and whirl of ink denoting his battlefield victories and royal blood on display.

you have no idea how word of the contests made it all the way into the formidable northern mountains, or why it would entice a chieftain’s son to try at winning your hand.

all you know is that he just did.

[cerastes]

Legitimately can't stop thinking about the brilliance of Degenbrecher's introduction as a playable character.

We've known Degenbrecher for a long, long time before this event, and even before Break The Ice, actually: Before Arknights even released, Gnosis and Degen can be seen in this pre-launch trailer at 0:14.

Degenbrecher existed for years as this larger-than-life figure shrouded in rumor and fame, with an almost supernatural countenance to her presence in the corner of the narrative she inhabits: The three-time Grand Champion of the Kazimierz Major, the dreaded Black Knight, the peerless warrior, who has the strength of ten knight companies on her shoulders alone. Spoken of in equal parts awe and fear, her stint in the knightly competitions were legendary in how one-sided they were whenever she took to the field, and Platinum even comments that her portraits on the gallery of champions all make it seem like she doesn't even age, adding a supernatural element to her legacy. All we know is that she's currently SilverAsh's bodyguard and no doubt part of why his faction is so formidable, as it would be for anyone who has a one-woman army on their payroll. When we are finally introduced to her formally in the narrative, she's all business, no non-sense, in the middle of her job, and boy howdy is she good at it: We know the kind of juice Rhodes Island Elite Operators have, they are really, really strong, and yet all Sharp can do is stall for time against her, with tacit understanding that no matter how much he tries, he is NOT overcoming her.

There is not a single thing anyone present on Doc's side can do to actually overcome Degenbrecher during Break The Ice, so the very best thing anyone could do was stall her. THAT is the winning move, or at least as close to one. She's that formidable, and then some. We only see her in business mode here, with a small glimpse to her more noble nature in that she is nothing but non-self aggrandizing compliments for Sharp for being able to even fight her, even if there is no chance he can beat her, because most people just take a single swing from her. When Doc's plan succeeds and we reach the climax, she simply sheathes, says "Well played", SA recalls her back to her pokeball, and we are left letting out a sigh of relief that we made it in time.

Then, for some more years after that, that's our impression of her: Unsurmountable. We don't know much more about her other than she is simply not someone you measure up to. This, by itself, isn't particularly unique, both as a concept or in the cast of Arknights, but it leaves you to wonder exactly what is she beyond being Unsurmountable. Who is she, actually?

Then, The Rides to Lake Silbernherze happens, where she is the main character, and after all those years of mystique and grandeur, of guessing and wondering, we finally can see her not as a plot device, but as an actual character: The very first scene is her covered in blood and raw jumping on a moving train for some mysterious purpose. Oh god, oh no, why is she soaked in blood already? Is she already in Terminator mode?

Then, in the best possible payoff of years of mystique and build-up, we learn that Degenbrecher, the person, not the plot device, the person, is fucking hilarious.

She's covered in blood because she stopped by a nearby farm to help farmers deliver a farm animal, which covered her in blood given how messy births are. She apparently didn't have to do this, and just opted to because, well, she was there, they needed help, and she's in a perpetual state of down to clown.

While pursuing possible dangerous elements to Kjerag later, she stops by to talk with tourists and recommend good spots to sightsee and eat before resuming her chase Looney Toons style.

She looks the same in the three champion portraits because she didn’t like the photoshoots so she skipped them. They were just reusing her photo.

She'll have the single most mundane conversations with the simplest people in midst of off-handedly mentioning that she quite enjoys fistfighting avalanches -- in a setting where this is not at all normal or feasible -- just to test herself. Reactions to her saying this vary from "hey is this a bit" to "oh, Degenbrecher, you card, we saw you do that the other day, next time I'll bring my camera".

She's a combination of Bugs Bunny, Sakamoto-kun, and Broly, and her main gimmick is that she's a reasonable, normal ass person in terms of personality sans the more overt feats of power like fistfighting avalanches. She's just Someone, who just happens to be mind-bogglingly strong and skilled with the greatsword and with swordbreakers.

This is doubly hilarious when you compare her to other one-woman armies we know: Nearl's dialogue is entirely composed of flowery promises for a better tomorrow and heroic declarations, Saria has woman pain 9000 and hasn't had a good day in years, Skadi is afflicted with survivor's guilt which in turn lead to a potent-self loathing and rationalizing her mere presence is what causes tragedy to those around her. Degenbrecher, in comparison, is just happy to be here, enjoys a good fight within reason, loves challenging herself, and honestly is quite content with stuff like paperwork or small talk. She's the friend you call to help you move or when your pipe busts or when you need someone to take care of your kid for a few hours if you're going to be late home due to work. And she puts her entire god damn pussy into it, too, you bet your kid is going to have the time of their life if Degenbrecher is on babysitting duty. Degenbrecher chips in for pizza night. Degenbrecher helps you change your flat tire.

The essence of Degenbrecher is that the rest of Terra is going through some really dire, really interesting times, to say the least, but she's on New Game+ just sort of doing side quests, overleveled as hell and with her shit figured out, and she decides to be as funny as possible about it.

[entitled-fangirl]

Chance. (P2)

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!reader; Aegon x wife!reader

Summary: Aemond finds that his ploy is having the opposite effect- driving her away from him slowly.

Part 1, Part 3

Masterlist

....................................................................

In the days that followed, Aemond had managed to lure the poor doe from Aegon's room. 

She now took walks with him daily, something he found himself enjoying more than he thought he initially would.

Like now.

"Against Caraxes?" She asked with a slight grin. "I thought both Caraxes and Meleys have seen war."

"They have. But I believe Meleys would win."

"I believe Vhagar would best them both." 

He felt a warm feeling go through his heart at that. "That was not the hypothetical scenario that I stated though, was it?"

"No, but it is the truth. Vhagar is a formidable creature."

His head tilted, "Vhagar is quite… kind, actually."

She stopped walking to look at him. "Is she?"

He hummed, "Very gentle in spirit. She must make up for my lack thereof."

Her lips pulled into a teasing grin, "You're quite gentle when you wish to be."

"I suppose so." He reasoned, "I just do not wish to be very often."

…

"THAT BASTARD!" Aemond roared as he entered his mother's chambers. 

Alicent turned and stood, "Aemond, what are-"

"Did you know about this?" He seethed.

She stared. "About what?"

"The marriage. A fucking marriage."

"What marriage?" She asked. "What are you talking about?"

"That slimy bastard will have his hands all over her," he spoke through gritted teeth. "And I must let him."

"Speak plainly, Aemond. You're confusing me."

He forced himself to take a deep breath and lower his voice, "My brother denied my betrothal. And now he takes my place in it."

Alicent tilted her head, "He wishes to marry her?"

"He does not love her." Aemond's fist clenched. "He will not love her as I can."

"That's what this is about then," she said. "A brotherly feud?"

"He only wishes to make my life harder, mother. And you let him."

He stormed out the door, kicking a chair on his way, not caring for the loud clattering sound of it against the floor.

…

"How does he fair today, my queen?" Aemond asked.

She looked up from Aegon to the prince, "Better. He's… better, I suppose."

"He does not look it."

She let out a frustrated huff, "Anything is better than the state you brought him to me in."

He smirks, "Do watch your tongue, doe."

She tilted her head curiously, "Why? Don't misconstrue my words, my prince. I only mean to say that you returned without a mere scratch and our king is…" She paused as she look to him, "…beyond repair."

"That was the will of the gods, not mine own. Remember that."

"And yet they named you regent. Didn't they?"

Aemond's jaw clenched and he took steady steps to the foot of the bed she sat on, "I am a worthy candidate for the crown, am I not?"

"Your mother ruled in your father's stead. Should I not rule now?"

"No, pretty doe. You're to care for the king. He needs a… woman's touch."

Her eyes flitted down to the dagger Aemond possessed. 

He continued, "Do watch who enters here. You never know who you can trust."

She looked back up to him a new look in her eyes, "Right."

…

Something began to stir in the girl as she thought about Aemond as the regent now. 

Some things just didn't add up.

And it seemed Alicent thought the same. 

Y/n spotted Alicent walking down the halls and decided to catch up to her. "My lady?"

Alicent turned, seeing the girl, "Is Aegon alright?"

"Yes," she found herself now nervous under the older woman's gaze. "I found myself needing advice, is all."

"Oh. Um." Alicent hums, stumped. "Let us take a walk then, I suppose."

"I'd like that."

…

Y/n called in the knock that sounded at her door.

Aemond entered and she stood at his entrance, "My prince."

He shook his head, "Please don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Act so formerly. As if we were not betrothed only hours ago."

She sighed and sat back down. "I do not know what you wish for me to say."

"That you're upset, perhaps?" He scoffed.

She huffed back, "I have had no say this entire time. Why would I just now be upset?"

"Because you know what Aegon is."

"I do."

His jaw clenched, "And still nothing?"

"My prince, my life was bargained for before I was out of my mother's womb. I am used to the feeling of disappointment."

He sighed and moved towards her, sitting on another chair. "He'll mistreat you."

She stared at the flames of the fireplace, "So be it."

Aemond studied her with his one eye, "You'll wed yourself to a whoremonger that would rather spend his nights drunk in a cold, dark alley than sober with his wife in a warm bed?"

Her eyes watered. "Do not remind me."

Silence filled the room as he considered what to say next. 

But she spoke first, "You may not be my husband, but you will be a caring brother-by-law. I know."

He smiled, "I won't abandon you."

…

"As a woman, it must be hard to truly now who your allies are."

Alicent nodded, "It is. Men only want thing in life, and that is anything that gets them hard."

She hummed, a trait she no doubt picked up from her recent time with Aemond, "But how can you be certain?"

The queen regent frowned, "Is there someone you fear as of now?"

"Not I. I fear more for Aegon."

Alicent sighed. "I do as well."

Y/n began to step, leading the two more into the garden. "I cannot protect him all of the time."

"Nor do we all expect you to."

Her jaw clenched, "And yet I find myself protecting a man who cares not for my own wellbeing."

"That's not entirely tru-"

"IT IS!" She cried. "Aegon married me for nothing! I am nothing to him but a whore he can impregnate-"

Her head jerked to the side with a loud slap and a sudden hot pain spread across her cheek.

Alicent had slapped her.

"Do not," the queen regent sneered. "Say those words again."

A shaky hand came up to her cheek, the cold of her palm soothing the pain. "I thought you an ally. But you're not."

Alicent scoffed mockingly, "Silly girl. There are no real allies in this game. Only mutual interests for a common end."

"It seems we wish for different endings then."

"Does it matter anymore?"

When she didn't answer, Alicent began to walk away.

"Alicent-"

She whipped around, "Do not call me that."

Y/n's head shot up with a new look of determination, "I am the queen. Not you. I will call you what I wish."

…

The next day, she met Aemond as always to walk the gardens.

He moved to hold his arm out, but immediately stopped himself. "What befell you?"

Her brows furrowed, "I'm sorry?"

His hand gently brushed her cheek and she flinched at the contact. "My queen. Has someone laid a hand on you?"

She shook her head. "I was being reckless."

His eye studied her closely. "I don't believe you."

She pushed his hand away lightly, "Then don't."

He bent his head down closer to her, "Is someone a threat to you? Must I fix something for you?"

"There is nothing to fix. I wish to go on our walk so I may return to my husband."

My husband.

The words still burned him worse than dragon fire.

He hummed and held his arm out once again, staring their walk. 

"I am curious, if you allow me to be so," she began.

He nodded.

"You've dismissed Cole as hand-"

"-And you wish to know his replacement?"

Her head tilted to the side, "I do."

He let out a low breath as he looked down at their path, "I'm assigning it to my grandsire, Otto Hightower. He's done it twice before."

"In a time of peace, that is."

"I suppose that's true. Then again, not many others are good enough even in times of peace, my queen."

"Sitting on the Iron Throne is no easy task, Aemond."

He chewed on his bottom lip as they walked, unsure of what she really wanted to say.

She pulled away from him at the sight of a certain flower. She knelt down at it, touching it with a gentle calmness to her.

She could be such a good queen if Aegon had just given her the chance.

Aemond promised he would.

…

"Dismissed. Except for my mother."

The council members one by one left the table and out the door, save for Alicent who sat with a curious look.

Aemond stood, rounding the table to stand behind her chair, "You dare strike her?"

Alicent took a deep breath, "Aemond, this does not concern you."

"Concern me? Indeed it does." He moved next to her chair, leaning against the table now, "You believed that you could strike her and I would not notice?"

"I did not think she would tell you."

"And alas, she did not."

Alicent's eyes widened at that. "Then how-"

"You've just confirmed it."

Aemond crouched down to her level, practically spitting venom, "I'm removing you from the small council. You're of no use to us and the kingdom anymore if you cannot even keep your hands to yourself, mother."

…

Y/n walked down the halls of the castle, going to Aegon's room as she always did. 

Upon entering it, she was surprised to find Lord Larys Strong there. 

He pushed himself to stand, "My queen."

She frowned, "My lord."

He turned to Aegon, "I am grateful for your recovery, your grace."

Lord Strong limped by, stopping next to her and speaking in her ear, "If you're in need of an ally, I can be of assistance, my queen."

Her eyes studied Aegon, noting the watery look in his eye. Her jaw clenched, "I believe I am tired of alliances, my lord. They do nothing for me."

He hummed, "Very well, your grace. My offer stands if you change your mind."

She turned her head to him with disdain, "I won't."

His jaw set but he nodded and left without another word. 

Upon the door closing, she moved to Aegon's side, exactly where Lord Strong had been moments before. "There you are."

His hand moved towards the bedside table, clearly reaching for something. 

She looked, noting the cup of the milk of the poppy that sat there untouched.

She quickly took the cup in her hands, "Relax yourself, my king." 

He moved back, a small tear in his eye.

She leaned down, wiping it from his cheek with a gentle smile. "You foolish man. What's wrong?"

He coughed a bit, "Ae…aemond…"

Her brows furrowed, "Aemond? What of Aemond?"

His hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her to him with what little strength he had. He cried as he did so, "Do not…"

She studied him with a worried gaze, "Do not...?"

The door opened, and she quickly looked over her shoulder. 

Aemond himself stood in the doorway. 

"How is his grace?"

She looked back to Aegon who looked ready to cry again. "He's doing alright. He'll be resting again soon enough."

Aemond hummed, stepping to the other side of the bed to watch the two.

Her hand moved to the back of Aegon's head, leaning him up to sip from the cup in her other hand.

He carefully took in the liquid, sighing as he finished. 

The woman leaned forward and kissed his forehead, "Sleep well."

She stood up and abandoned the cup with her focus now on Aemond, "Let us leave him in peace for a while."

"Yes," he said absent-mindedly. "We should."

But his mind was far from absent. In fact, it only thought one thing.

What had Aegon told her?

..................................................

part 3

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[milswrites]

The Trials of Aphrodite Part Five

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.

Chapter summary: You make the most unlikely of friends.

Warnings: Angst.

“I think you should talk to Elain.”

You scoffed as you looked up from the pages of your book, brows raised and eyes rolling as you turned your once focused gaze to the anticipatory stare of your friend, “Good morning to you too, Az. I’m swell, thank you for asking.”

Hazel eyes narrowing at your remark, a sound of disbelief fell from Azriel’s lips as your attention returned to the book between your hands. Disgruntled by his piercing gaze, you stubbornly moved the object to block him from your view. Your action drawing a groan of contention from the shadowsinger as he argued, “Oh come on sweetheart, I just got ahead of myself. I’m sorry, alright?”

Azriel sighed lowly as he realized you weren’t going to budge, lips downturned as his hands came to rest on either arm of the chair you were curled up in. “Angel?” he asked tentatively, leaning forwards until the tip of his nose brushed against the spine of your book, a teasing finger coming to push the novel down until his amused gaze met your own formidable glare. The heated breath of his mirthful chuckle kissing your cheeks as he smirked, “How’s my best friend doing on this lovely day?”

You snorted at his question, eyes unforgiving as you answered flatly, “I’m telling Cassian that you called me your best friend.”

The shadowsinger chuckled at your words, shrugging his shoulders in dismissal as he added, "Come on angel. If you don't tell me how your day is, I guess I'm just going to have to tell Rhys that it was you who knocked over the entire shelf of his expensive wines last solstice."

You slammed your book shut, glaring daggers at the male as you seethed, "You wouldn't dare! You swore you would never tell!"

"You're right, and I always make good on my promises. But it's nice to see your beautiful face again." Azriel grinned devilishly, sliding the book from your lap before you could utilize it as a weapon, "Now, how's my angel doing today?"

You huffed, unable to stop the small smile from pulling at your lips at the male's antics, "Slightly annoyed that I still fall for your same tricks after five hundred years of friendship."

"But you still love me all the same," Azriel grinned. Your eyes shied from his playful gaze as he spoke, cheeks turning pale as you wondered if Azriel knew just how truthful his statement was. Yet the male failed to notice your change in demeanor, rather, he proceeded once more with tentatively approaching the topic of his arrival, "So much so that you'd talk to Elain for me?"

You slumped into your chair, resisting the urge to groan in frustration at your friend's proposal, "Az, I have never once spoken to Elain. Don't you think she'd be suspicious if I started trying to be her friend out of the blue?"

"But isn't that what wingmen -" Azriel shrank under your unimpressed stare, nervously laughing as he corrected himself, " - sorry - wingwomen do?"

Your mouth parted wordlessly, mind searching for any possible excuse as to why you talking to Elain for him would be a bad idea. But it was too late, Azriel had sensed your reluctance. His hand coming to meet your own as he pleaded his case, "There is not a single person in Prythian you could talk to who wouldn't fall for your charm. Look . . . It'll be easy. I just think I may have more of a chance with her if you shared some things about me that you think she may like to hear."

"What, like the fact that you still sleep with the stuffed bat I gave you centuries ago?" you teased as payback for his earlier comment, taking pleasure in the way Azriel's smile dropped in horror. The male's eyes blowing wide in alarm as he stammered a pitiful response, "How did you -? . . . I- I don't sleep with him anymore!"

"Him?" you laughed at Azriel’s pitiful attempt of a burning glare, throwing your head back in glee at the sight. Proud that you were possibly the only person alive who could be on the receiving end of one of the shadowsinger's threatening stares and live to tell the tale.

"You're hilarious, truly" Azriel replied flatly, “It’s nice to see how much you care about my love life”. The shadowsinger, unamused by your incessant giggling, permissed a grave expression to cross his face as he continued to press the matter, "Please. I really need her to like me, and if that means that I need to ask my guardian angel to work her magic . . ."

Your heart clenched at his words, the laughter dying in your throat as your eyes fell from his own pleading ones to the hands at your lap. Stare cold and broken as you realized Rhysand had been wrong the other day. You could never say no. Not to Azriel.

You were a victim of your own heart's desire, cursed with the unfortunate luck of only ever being able to answer the male with words he so longed to hear. Azriel the commander and executioner of your love as your reply slipped from your lips before you could even think about stopping yourself, "Of course I'll speak to her, Az. That's what friends do, right?"

"And what a great friend you are" he grinned, the tension in his shoulders easing at your acceptance, "I'll pay you back for this, I promise. We'll go to that restaurant you like, the one down by the Rainbow."

"Yeah. . .” Azriel was gone before you could even finish your sentence, his shadows lingering for a moment before they ultimately decided on following their master, “That sounds nice. . ."

You quietly sigh, vacant eyes never straying from your lap as you move your shaky hands to cling onto the arms of the chair, gripping the velvet upholstery in an effort to stop your uncontrollable trembling.

Terrified at the prospect of facing the female who was in every way your superior, you exhaled deeply. Rubbing at the growing ache in your temples as you readied yourself to look into the eyes of the cauldron-blessed fae who had stolen Azriel’s heart.

It didn't take long to find her.

The majority of Elain’s days were typically spent within the walls of her garden, the timid female preferring to pass her time with the company of flowers rather than that of other fae.

Perhaps you could tell yourself that was why the two of you had never spoken. That her quiet, reserved nature was the reason for the silence between you. That it had absolutely nothing to do with the shadowsinger who had managed to capture both of your affections.

If that were the case, perhaps you would have allowed yourself to have visited her garden sooner. Sparing the time to come and admire the beautifully blooming flowers, taking the opportunity to bask in the soothing tranquility of your surroundings. You had to admit it was impressive, the radiant life that Elain had managed to bring to the garden that the workers have otherwise been unable to do so.

But you also had to admit that you have been selfish, and unfairly so. Unable to help but wonder if your reason for visiting Elain today was a punishment from the gods, a penalty for having not been more welcoming to the female upon her arrival to the Night Court.

It didn't take long for Elain to notice your presence in her garden, the sound of your approaching footsteps being enough to pull the female's attention from the flowers she was tending to. Her brow creased in confusion as she saw exactly who it was walking towards her.

"Uh, hello Elain," you awkwardly began, smile tight as you mentally cursed yourself for your uncomfortable demeanor, "I saw you through the window and I um . . . I thought you may appreciate a tea."

Elain's eyes dropped to the cup held between your shaky hands, mouth slightly parting in question at your unusually kind gesture, "Oh . . . "

Sighing, you closed the distance between you, placing the cup on the ground before opting to sit beside the female. "It was Azriel's idea" you confessed, tentatively glancing in Elain's direction, noting how her ears pricked at the mention of your friend's name, "He thought it might be a nice idea for you to have someone to talk to. . . The tea was all me though."

"That's nice of him" Elain allowed a soft smile to grace her lips, moving to pick up the cup before she nervously added, "and you, thank you for the tea."

"Yeah, he's always watching out for the people he cares about" you winced at your words, eyes closing in shame as you were aware of just how terribly this conversation was going. Moving your hand to pick at the hem of your dress as you resisted the urge to flee in embarrassment.

But if Elain were bothered by your uneasy company she didn't show, moving to pick up her trowel once more as she resumed her gardening, her words light as she replied, "I know I'm considerably younger than all you fae, but that doesn't make me stupid. I know why you're here."

You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing as you found yourself unable to stop the rising wave of panic which had begun to wash over you, nervous eyes flickering over the poised female as you breathlessly asked, "What?"

"I know love when I see it" Elain answered, briefly turning from her task so her brown eyes could meet your own, "That's why Azriel sent you to talk to me wasn't it? Because he thinks he loves me."

"You know?" you asked at a higher octave than deemed normal, unable to help the surprised laugh which escaped your lips, leaning back onto your hands as you allowed the information to soak in. Mouth dropped in disbelief as you gathered your thoughts, "You'd certainly make for a better spymaster than him."

"It doesn't exactly take a spymaster to see it" Elain smirked slightly, seemingly pleased by your astonished reaction. Gesturing to a spare trowel she continued, "Come on, if we're going to talk you may as well be helping me."

A feeling of satisfied contentment washed over you as the two of you worked in a comfortable silence. It wasn't hard to understand why Elain loved to spend all of her time here, the quiet calm of the garden was a suitable place to sieve through the questions which had risen at her revelation.

Wondering exactly where it was you were supposed to begin, you tentatively asked, "So why haven't you told him that you know?" Your face immediately turning pale as your tumultuous thoughts had already answered for her, heart racing as you voiced the glaring question on your mind, "Unless you don't love him back?"

It had always been a possibility that Elain didn't share the same feelings for Azriel as he did for her. You would be lying if you said you hadn't hoped for it. Having already pondered the possibility that if the shadowsinger were to be rejected, his lovesick eyes may then turn to you. You almost scoffed at how pathetic the idea was.

And yet, inexplicably, a sinking feeling had risen in your chest. Heart already breaking at the mere thought of how Azriel would react to the terrible news that Elain didn't like him back.

It took several moments for the female to reply, mind lost to her own thoughts as she searched for an appropriate answer. "Love him?" Elain pondered, gaze distant as she stared at a budding flower before her, "No. But I could grow to."

The soft sigh which escaped from Elain's lips told you she had more to say, her eyes thinly veiled by a white mist as she began to explain her reasoning, “I was engaged once - if you'd believe it - but then the war happened, and Hybern, and then by some cruel trick of fate the cauldron turned me into the one thing that my fiancé had always been taught to hate."

You failed to find an answer worthy of speaking, sympathy brewing in your chest at the female's admission that her transition has been more than difficult. Guilty, that between your bitterness and jealousy, you hadn't stopped to think about exactly what it was Elain was going through. 

"I never got a choice, not when I got shoved into the cauldron and not when I got brought here. . . So I don't really know what it is I want with my life anymore. I'm not even sure I know who I am. But I do know Azriel makes me happy," Elain's words drew you from your spiraling shame, a wistful smile on the young fae's face as she spoke about the male, "When I'm with him I don't have to be who I used to be. . . He gives me the room to figure out who I am in this new life I have been given."

"You make him happy too, Elain" you answered with a sad smile, swallowing your pain as you tried to blink away your rising tears, "He really does think the world of you."

It didn’t take long for you to realize you had allowed your emotions to get the better of you, your face blanching as shock crossed Elain's features. Her eyes full of sorrow as she turned her gaze to you, "You love him?" 

"And he loves you."

You did your best to shrug away the females sympathetic stare as you moved to continue gardening, yet Elain's pitiful eyes remained on you, lips downturned as she queried, "How long?"

You laughed at the answer to her question, too embarrassed to reveal to Elain that you had wasted centuries pining after a male who would never love you back, "Let's just say it's been long enough for me to know it's time to move on." 

Elain hummed in quiet understanding, taking a moment to think before her head tilted in question, "And have you?”

"Have I what?"

"Moved on?" 

There was no malice in Elain Acheron's voice, not as each question she asked was delivered with such empathy. Rather, you found yourself blushing at her curious nature, a shy smile gracing your features as you found yourself revealing, "I'm getting there, one day at a time. . . I may have met someone the other day."

Elain squealed in excitement, dropping her trowel as she moved her body to face yours, eagerly outstretching her hands to meet your own as she laced them together and begged, "Tell me everything."

"There's not much to tell" you reply honestly, ears burning at the thought of the male you had met the other day, "We've only met once, at the bakery in Velaris. He spilt his coffee all over me and then we just got talking. I don't know. . . It just felt so natural, for once in my life I didn't find myself thinking of . . . well . . . Az. He asked to meet me again but -"

"Oh you have to!" Elain cried, an encouraging grin crossing her face as she urged you to take the step. Her searching eyes not failing to miss the hesitance in your own;, hands squeezing yours as she offered her advice, “Moving on isn’t meant to be easy. But the regret you’ll feel if you miss this chance will hurt more. . . Besides you never know, this male might surprise you, it already sounds like he’s swept you off your feet.”

You smiled at Elain, the thought of males far from your mind as you found yourself unable to think of anything other than how utterly and completely wrong you had been about her. Brows knitted together in regret, you expressed this to the female, “You know, you’re not quite the person I expected you to be Elain Archeron.”

The fae's eyes twinkled in response, a matching smile upon her lips as she replied, “No, neither are you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Sorry for the wait for this part 🥲 my uni kind of killed me off for a moment. And thank you to @sarawritestories who helped me iron this part out because my brain is fried at the moment.

Taglist:

@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @lady-of-tearshed @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @Jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend

[natsgrave]

THE SMALLEST WOMAN WHO EVER LIVED | natasha romanoff

and i don't miss what we had, but could someone give a message to the smallest woman who ever lived? i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

The night was dark, and the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the cityscape. Shadows danced across the abandoned warehouse where she had taken refuge, a place forgotten by time and society. The woman sat in a corner, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body trembling from exhaustion and fear. Her name was Y/N, but she hadn't been called that in years. To HYDRA, she was known only as Subject 47.

For years, Y/N had been their pawn, subjected to torturous experiments designed to unlock her latent powers. She had been forced to use those powers in ways she could never have imagined, becoming a weapon in HYDRA's arsenal. But she had endured, biding her time, waiting for the moment when she could break free. That moment had come, and now she was on the run, trying to stay one step ahead of the organization that had taken everything from her.

The memories of her escape were still fresh in her mind: the alarms blaring, the shouts of the guards, the searing pain of the injuries she had sustained. But she had made it out, and that was all that mattered. She had to keep moving, had to stay hidden. She couldn't afford to be found, not now.

As she sat in the darkness, her thoughts drifted back to the years of torment she had endured. She remembered the faces of the scientists who had experimented on her, the cold, clinical way they had treated her, as if she were nothing more than a specimen. She remembered the pain, the isolation, the despair. But most of all, she remembered the moments when she had been forced to use her powers to harm others, to carry out HYDRA's will. Those memories haunted her, gnawing at her conscience.

She knew she couldn't go back to being the person she once was. That person was gone, replaced by someone who had been forged in fire and darkness. But she also knew she couldn't let HYDRA win. She had to survive, no matter the cost.

Y/N's powers were formidable. She had the ability to manipulate energy, to create devastating blasts of force that could level buildings. She could also control minds, bending others to her will. These abilities had made her a valuable asset to HYDRA, but they were also a constant reminder of the monster she had become.

She had tried to lay low, to stay out of sight. But it was difficult. Her powers were unpredictable, and sometimes they manifested in ways she couldn't control. And then there was the constant need for resources. Food, money, shelter— these were things she couldn't simply conjure out of thin air. She had turned to a life of crime, using her powers to rob, to steal, to survive. It was a dark path, but it was the only one she knew.

One night, as she was preparing to leave the warehouse and find another place to hide, she heard a noise. Her heart raced as she turned, her powers at the ready. A figure emerged from the shadows, a woman with a determined look in her eyes.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice cold and wary. "How did you find me?"

The woman raised her hands in a gesture of peace. "My name is Natasha," she said calmly. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk."

"Talk?" Y/N scoffed. "I don't have time for talking. If you're HYDRA, you won't leave here alive."

"I'm not HYDRA," Natasha assured her. "I know what they did to you. I know what you're capable of. I'm here to help."

Y/N narrowed her eyes, her suspicion evident. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I've been where you are," Natasha replied, her voice softening. "I know what it's like to be used, to be turned into something you're not. But you don't have to keep living this way. There are people who can help you, who can help you control your powers, who can give you a chance at a new life."

Y/N's resolve wavered. She wanted to believe her, but trust was a luxury she couldn't afford. "How do I know you're not lying?"

Natasha took a step closer, her eyes filled with sincerity. "You don't. But you have a choice. You can keep running, keep hiding, keep doing things you hate. Or you can take a chance, and maybe— just maybe— find a way out of this darkness."

Y/N stared at Natasha, her mind racing. She had spent so long fighting, so long surviving. The idea of something better, something different, was almost too much to hope for. But as she looked into Natasha's eyes, she saw something she hadn't seen in a long time: hope.

"Alright," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll listen. But if this is a trap, if you're lying to me…"

"I'm not," Natasha interrupted gently. "I promise you, you're not alone anymore."

And for the first time in years, Y/N allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of the darkness after all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Natasha grew closer. The walls Y/N had built around herself slowly began to crumble as Natasha showed her a different way to live, a way that didn't involve fear and isolation. They spent their days training, honing Y/N's powers with precision and control, and their evenings talking, sharing stories of their pasts.

One evening, they sat on the rooftop of an old building, the city lights twinkling below them. The air was cool, and a gentle breeze rustled their hair. Y/N sat on the edge of the rooftop, her legs dangling over the side as she stared out at the city lights. The memory she was about to share was one she had buried deep within herself, a wound that had never fully healed. But Natasha's presence, her understanding, gave Y/N the courage to finally let it out.

"It was one of the worst days," Y/N began, her voice barely above a whisper. Natasha's eyes gazed into her softly, curious about what she was about to share. "I had been with HYDRA for a few years by then. They had already started experimenting on me, trying to unlock my powers. I was in so much pain, all the time. But this day… this day was different."

Natasha sat beside her, listening intently, her eyes filled with empathy.

"They had me in this lab," Y/N continued, her gaze distant as she relived the memory. "It was cold, sterile. The walls were lined with equipment, and there were a dozen scientists there, all watching me like I was some kind of animal. They strapped me to a table, injected me with something. It burned, like fire coursing through my veins. I screamed, but they didn't care. They just watched, taking notes."

Y/N paused, her hands trembling as she clenched them into fists. Natasha reached out, gently placing a hand on her arm, grounding her.

"I could feel my powers surging," she said, her voice shaking. "It was like they had torn down a dam inside me, and the energy was flooding out. I couldn't control it. I couldn't stop it. They had these targets set up, and they told me to destroy them. I didn't want to, but the pain… it was unbearable. So I did. I blasted them apart, one after another."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, but she forced herself to continue. "Then they brought in… people. Prisoners, they said. Enemies of HYDRA. They wanted me to use my powers on them. I refused. I begged them to stop, but they just laughed. One of the scientists, Dr. Zola, he was the worst. He looked at me with such contempt. He told me that if I didn't do as they asked, they would make the pain even worse."

Natasha's grip on Y/N's arm tightened, a silent offer of support.

"So I did it," Y/N whispered, the tears now streaming down her face. "I used my powers on those people. I saw the fear in their eyes, heard their screams. I tried to hold back, to minimize the damage, but it was no use. I could see what I was doing to them, the horror and pain I was causing. And all the while, Dr. Zola was there, taking notes, completely detached from the suffering."

Y/N's voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, sobbing. Natasha pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly as she cried.

"It wasn't your fault," Natasha murmured softly. "They forced you. You were a victim, Y/N, just like those people."

Y/N shook her head, the guilt and shame overwhelming her. "I still see their faces, Natasha. Every night, the same nightmare. I can never forget what I did."

"You were put in an impossible situation," Natasha said firmly, pulling back to look Y/N in the eyes. "HYDRA did that to you, not the real you. The real you is the person sitting here with me, the person who has the strength to fight back, to survive. You are not defined by what they made you do."

Y/N nodded, though the pain was still raw. "I want to believe that. I really do. But it's hard."

"I know it is," Natasha replied, her voice gentle. "But you're not alone anymore. We'll get through this together. We'll find a way to make things right, to move forward."

Y/N took a deep breath, the weight of her past still heavy on her shoulders, but there was a glimmer of hope in her heart. With Natasha by her side, she felt a strength she hadn't known in years.

"Thank you, Natasha," she said quietly. "For listening. For being here."

"Always," Natasha replied, a small, reassuring smile on her lips. "We'll face this together, Y/N. One step at a time."

And as the night stretched on, they sat together on the rooftop, two kindred spirits bound by their pasts but looking forward to a future they could shape with their own hands.

"You know," Y/N said, her eyes fixed on the horizon, "I've never told anyone that before. Not even the other subjects."

Natasha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "It takes a lot of courage to share something like that. I'm honored you trust me."

Y/N glanced at her, a small smile playing on her lips. "You've given me a reason to trust again. I never thought I'd feel that way after everything that's happened."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of their shared experiences hanging in the air. But a nagging thought had been bothering Y/N for days, and she knew she had to address it.

"Natasha," she began hesitantly, "there's something I need to ask you."

Natasha turned to her, her expression open and encouraging. "Anything, Y/N. What is it?"

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "How did you find me? I mean, really find me. I've been running for so long, staying off the grid. It doesn't make sense."

Natasha's face grew serious, and she looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting Y/N's gaze. "I understand why you're curious. The truth is, I was able to find you because of my past. You see, I wasn't always… on the side of the angels."

Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Natasha sighed, her eyes distant as she delved into her memories. "I was trained by a group called the Red Room. It's an organization that turns young girls into assassins, into weapons. They took me when I was just a child and molded me into what they wanted. I was one of their best."

Y/N listened intently, her heart aching at the pain in Natasha's voice. "That sounds… horrible. I'm so sorry, Natasha."

Natasha shook her head. "It's in the past. But the skills they taught me, the connections I made— they're how I was able to track you down. I recognized the signs of someone trying to hide, because I've been there myself."

Y/N's eyes widened in realization. "So you used your training to find me?"

Natasha nodded. "Yes. But not to hurt you. To help you. I saw a kindred spirit in you, someone who had been used and discarded. I wanted to give you a chance to break free, to find your own path."

Y/N's emotions swirled within her. "Thank you, Natasha. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Natasha replied, her voice gentle. "Just know that we can face our pasts together and create a better future."

As the weeks turned into months, their bond grew stronger. They trained together, pushing each other to their limits, and spent their downtime sharing stories and dreams. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, revealing details about her life before HYDRA, her hopes and fears. Natasha, in turn, shared her own experiences, the pain and triumphs that had shaped her into who she was.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, they sat on the rooftop again, watching the sunset. Y/N turned to Natasha, her heart full of gratitude and something she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Natasha," she said softly, "thank you for everything. You've given me a reason to believe in myself again."

Natasha smiled, a warmth in her eyes that made Y/N's heart swell. "You've always had that strength, Y/N. You just needed someone to remind you of it."

And in that moment, surrounded by the fading light of the day, Y/N knew that she had found not just a friend, but a kindred spirit. Someone who understood her pain, her struggles, and her dreams. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, and for the first time in years, Y/N felt truly free.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Months and months passed, and Y/N and Natasha became inseparable. Natasha taught Y/N everything from combat techniques to espionage tactics, sharing stories of her own childhood in the Red Room and even recounting funny anecdotes that brought laughter back into Y/N's life. The once distant and cautious Y/N now felt a warmth she hadn't experienced in years.

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed one night, staring at the ceiling, her mind filled with thoughts of Natasha. Every day, she found herself falling deeper in love with the woman who had not only saved her but also given her a reason to live again. Natasha's strength, compassion, and unwavering support had become a beacon in Y/N's life, guiding her through the darkness.

But with those feelings came fear. Y/N was terrified that if she confessed her love, it might push Natasha away. Despite Natasha being a trained assassin with an uncanny ability to read people, Y/N had managed to keep her feelings hidden. She didn't want to risk losing the one person who meant everything to her.

One afternoon, they were training in an abandoned gym they had discovered. The space was perfect for their needs— isolated, spacious, and filled with old equipment that they could use for their rigorous routines. As they sparred, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at Natasha's agility and skill. Even after months of training, Natasha still amazed her with her prowess.

"You're getting better every day," Natasha said, wiping sweat from her brow as they took a break. "I'm proud of you, Y/N."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with warmth. "I have a great teacher."

Natasha chuckled, but there was a hint of seriousness in her eyes. "It's not just about the training. It's about finding yourself, trusting yourself. And you're doing that."

Y/N nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Thank you, Natasha. For everything."

Natasha's expression softened. "You don't have to thank me. We're in this together."

As they sat on the gym floor, catching their breath, Natasha began to share another story from her past, this time about a mission that had gone hilariously wrong. Y/N laughed, feeling the tension in her chest ease as the sound of Natasha's laughter filled the room.

"You should have seen the look on his face when the cat jumped out of the box instead of the intel we were expecting." Natasha said, grinning. Avoiding to mention any name.

Y/N shook her head, still laughing. "I wish I could have been there."

Natasha's smile faded slightly, replaced by a thoughtful look. "You know, Y/N, I don't think I've ever felt this close to anyone before. It's… different."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, and she looked down, trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, it's different for me too."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Y/N wanted so desperately to tell Natasha how she felt, but the fear held her back.

One evening, they decided to take a break from training and relax on the rooftop of their safe house. The night was clear, and the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds. They lay on their backs, side by side, staring up at the cosmos.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have a normal life?" Y/N asked softly.

Natasha sighed. "Sometimes. But I think we make our own normal, don't you? Whatever that looks like."

Y/N turned her head to look at Natasha, her heart aching with unspoken words. "I think you're right."

Natasha met her gaze, her eyes searching Y/N's. "Y/N, is there something you want to tell me?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. The moment had come, and she felt both terrified and exhilarated. "I… Natasha, I—"

Before she could finish, a loud noise from the street below startled them both. They sat up quickly, their training kicking in as they scanned the area for potential threats. After a few tense moments, they realized it was just a group of teenagers making noise.

Natasha sighed in relief, then looked at Y/N with a small smile. "I guess we'll have to save the deep conversations for another time."

Y/N nodded, her heart still pounding. "Yeah, another time."

As they settled back down, Y/N felt a mix of disappointment and relief. The moment had passed, but the feelings remained. She knew she couldn't keep them hidden forever, but for now, she was content to cherish the bond they had, hoping that one day she would find the courage to tell Natasha how deeply she cared for her.

The night had settled into a comfortable stillness, the kind that Y/N had come to appreciate in her new life with Natasha. They had spent the evening on the rooftop, their bond growing even stronger with every shared story and laugh. But the moment of potential confession had been interrupted, leaving Y/N with a mix of emotions that she couldn't quite sort through.

"Hey, I'm going to run to the store to grab a few things," Natasha said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. "Do you need anything?"

Y/N shook her head, offering a warm smile. "No, I'm good. Just hurry back."

Natasha grinned. "Won't be long."

As the door closed behind Natasha, Y/N found herself alone in the quiet apartment. She tried to shake off the lingering thoughts of her unspoken feelings, instead focusing on the simple task of tidying up their training equipment, replaying the evening's conversation in her mind, wondering how she might finally confess her feelings to Natasha. She was just about to sit down and relax when she heard the door creak open again.

"Natasha, that was quick." she began, turning around with a smile. But her words died on her lips as she took in the sight before her.

Instead of Natasha, a group of several figures stood in the doorway, none of whom were Natasha. Y/N's heart began to race.

Steve Rogers, Captain America, stepped forward. His expression was firm but not unkind. "Y/N, we need you to come with us."

Y/N's heart raced, confusion and fear flooding her mind. "How did you find me? Who are you?"

Clint Barton, Hawkeye, responded calmly, "We're the Avengers. We need you to come peacefully. We don't want to hurt you."

But Y/N shook her head, taking a step back. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Tony Stark, Iron Man, sighed. "We were hoping it wouldn't come to this."

"Y/N, please," Captain America urged, taking a step forward. "We don't want to fight you."

Without further warning, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline. She couldn't let them take her. She had fought too hard, endured too much, to be captured now. Her powers, usually kept in check, surged uncontrollably as her fear and anger took over.

The energy crackling around her as she prepared for a confrontation. "I'm not leaving without a fight."

The battle began with a blur of movement. Y/N unleashed a blast of energy that sent Captain America flying backward, his shield barely absorbing the impact. Iron Man's repulsors fired in response, but Y/N dodged with agility, her movements a blur. Thor swung Mjolnir, but Y/N countered with a force field that deflected the mighty hammer.

Iron Man flew into the air, attempting to get a better angle for his attack. "She's fast. We need to contain her!"

Y/N responded by sending a wave of energy that disrupted Iron Man's flight, causing him to crash into a wall. He recovered quickly, his suit's systems recalibrating, but the momentary distraction gave Y/N the upper hand.

Captain America threw his shield, aiming for Y/N's legs to incapacitate her, but she leaped into the air, avoiding the strike and landing a powerful kick to his chest. He stumbled back but quickly regained his footing, his determination unwavering.

Thor charged at Y/N, lightning crackling around him. He swung Mjolnir with all his might, but Y/N created a barrier that absorbed the impact. She pushed back with a surge of energy, sending Thor skidding across the floor.

Clint shot an arrow aimed at disarming Y/N, but she deflected it with a wave of energy. Steve charged forward, his shield raised, but Y/N countered with a blast of force that once again, sent him skidding backward.

Tony, in his Iron Man suit, launched a series of repulsor blasts. Y/N dodged them with agility honed from months of training with Natasha. She retaliated with a powerful blast that knocked Tony off balance, sending him crashing into a wall.

Thor entered the fray, his hammer Mjolnir crackling with electricity. "Stay your hand, mortal! We mean you no harm!"

But Y/N was beyond reasoning. She unleashed a torrent of energy, attempting to fend off the god of thunder. The two clashed in a dazzling display of power, the air around them crackling with raw force.

As the battle raged on, Y/N's control over her powers slipped. She sent waves of destructive energy in all directions, causing the building to shake and debris to fall. The Avengers fought to contain her without causing her harm, but Y/N's desperation made her unpredictable.

In the midst of the chaos, Y/N caught sight of Natasha standing at the edge of the room, a look of pained determination on her face. Y/N's heart ached with a mix of relief and confusion. She was about to call out to Natasha, to tell her to run, when she saw Natasha raise her wrist, the Widow Bites charging with electricity.

"Natasha, no—" Y/N's words were cut off as the electric shock hit her. Pain surged through her body, and she collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. She fell to her knees, her vision blurring as she tried to process the betrayal.

Confusion, hurt, and betrayal were etched across Y/N's face as she looked up at Natasha. "Why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the battle.

Natasha's eyes met Y/N's, a silent apology evident in their depths. "Y/N, please. Just listen—"

Before Natasha could finish, Tony approached Y/N cautiously, his helmet retracting to reveal his concerned face. "I'm sorry about this." he said softly, before administering a knockout shot that sent Y/N into unconsciousness.

The last thing Y/N saw was Natasha's face, torn between duty and the bond they had shared. As darkness enveloped her, Y/N's mind swirled with unanswered questions and a profound sense of betrayal.

When Y/N woke up, she found herself in a sterile, secure room, her hands restrained. The cold metal of the restraints bit into her skin, a harsh reminder of her new reality. The stark whiteness of the walls and the faint hum of machinery around her brought back a flood of memories she had desperately tried to bury. Her hands were restrained, the cold metal digging into her wrists, making escape impossible. Panic set in, and her mind raced as she tried to piece together the events that had led her here. The fight with the Avengers, Natasha's betrayal— it all felt like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

Memories from her time in HYDRA began to resurface, unbidden and relentless. She could almost feel the cold, damp walls of the cells they kept her in, hear the echo of her own screams as they experimented on her, pushing her to the brink of insanity. The pain had been unbearable, but the psychological torment was even worse. They had stripped her of her humanity, treating her like a lab rat, an object to be used and discarded.

She remembered the countless nights spent in isolation, the darkness her only companion. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional distant scream of another unfortunate soul. Y/N had learned to dread the sound of approaching footsteps, knowing it meant another round of torture or experiments. They had tried to break her, to mold her into their perfect weapon, and for a time, they had succeeded.

She could still see the faces of the scientists, their expressions cold and detached as they inflicted unimaginable pain on her. She had begged for mercy, for death, but they had only laughed, their eyes void of any empathy. The experiments had been brutal, designed to push her powers to their limits, often leaving her on the brink of death. They had injected her with unknown substances, subjected her to electric shocks, and forced her to endure endless physical and mental trials.

Her mind drifted to the times when she had been restrained, much like she was now, unable to move or defend herself. She could feel the tightness of the straps, the helplessness that had consumed her as she lay there, vulnerable and exposed. The scientists would talk about her as if she wasn't even there, discussing their next steps in cold, clinical terms. They had stripped her of her identity, reducing her to a mere experiment number.

The fear and anger she had felt during those years were now mingling with the sense of betrayal and hurt she felt towards Natasha. The two emotions intertwined, creating a storm of confusion and pain within her. She had thought she had found a semblance of peace, a way to move forward from her past, but now it all seemed to be crashing down around her.

Y/N's mind shifted to the happier memories she had shared with Natasha, the woman who had seemed to be her savior, her light in the darkness. The way Natasha had smiled at her, the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her touch— all of it felt like a cruel joke now.

How could someone who had meant so much to her be the same person who had deceived her so completely?

She remembered the nights spent talking with Natasha, sharing their deepest fears and dreams. Natasha had made her feel safe, cherished even, something she had never experienced before. The bond they had formed had been real, or so she had thought. The betrayal cut deeper because of the trust she had placed in Natasha, a trust that had been shattered in an instant.

The memories of their time together played in her mind like a cruel montage. Training sessions where Natasha had pushed her to be better, moments of laughter and camaraderie, the quiet evenings where they had simply enjoyed each other's presence. Y/N had opened up to Natasha in ways she had never done with anyone else, revealing parts of herself she had kept hidden for so long.

But now, all those memories felt tainted. She couldn't shake the image of Natasha standing there with the Avengers, the look of determination on her face as she shot Y/N with her Widow's Bite. The physical pain had been nothing compared to the emotional agony of realizing that the one person she had trusted had been sent to betray her.

Y/N's thoughts circled back to her time in HYDRA, the endless cycle of pain and hopelessness. She had endured so much, fought so hard to survive, only to be betrayed by the one person who had given her a reason to keep fighting. The feelings of helplessness and despair were overwhelming, threatening to consume her once more.

She could feel tears welling up, but she refused to let them fall. She had cried enough during her time in HYDRA, and she had vowed never to let herself be that vulnerable again. But the pain of Natasha's betrayal was too much to bear, reopening old wounds that had never truly healed.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memories, but they came flooding back with even greater intensity. The faces of the scientists, the cold, clinical environment, the pain, the screams— it all felt too real, too immediate. She had spent so long trying to bury those memories, to move past them, but now they were resurfacing with a vengeance.

She thought about the other subjects in HYDRA, the ones who hadn't survived. She could still hear their cries for help, their pleas for mercy. She had been one of the few to make it out alive, but at what cost? The memories of those who had perished haunted her, a constant reminder of the horrors she had endured.

Y/N tried to focus on her breathing, to calm herself, but it was a losing battle. The memories were too strong, too overwhelming. She felt like she was back in those cells, trapped and helpless, with no way out. The room she was in now felt eerily similar, the restraints on her wrists a cruel echo of her past.

The memories of Natasha brought a new wave of pain. She had thought she could trust her, had believed in the bond they had shared. But now, it felt like all of that had been a lie. Natasha's betrayal was a knife to her heart, twisting with every recollection of their time together.

Y/N remembered the times Natasha had held her, comforting her during moments of weakness. She had felt safe in Natasha's arms, believing that she had found someone who truly cared about her. But now, that sense of safety was shattered, replaced by a void of distrust and heartbreak.

She tried to reconcile the Natasha she had come to love with the woman who had betrayed her. It was impossible. The two images clashed in her mind, creating a whirlwind of confusion and pain. She had fallen in love with Natasha, believing in the goodness she saw in her, but now she couldn't tell what had been real and what had been a façade.

The tears she had been holding back finally began to fall. The memories, the pain, the betrayal— it was all too much. She felt like she was drowning, unable to breathe, unable to escape the torment of her past and the heartbreak of the present.

Y/N's mind was a battleground, the memories of HYDRA and her time with Natasha colliding in a cacophony of emotions. She felt the weight of her past pressing down on her, the sense of hopelessness creeping back in. The fight to survive had taken everything she had, and now it felt like she had nothing left to give.

As she sat there, restrained and helpless, Y/N's thoughts drifted to the future. She didn't know what lay ahead, whether she would ever be able to trust again, whether she could find a way to heal from the betrayal. But one thing was certain— she would never forget what she had been through, and she would never forgive Natasha for what she had done.

The pain of betrayal was a wound that would take a long time to heal, if it ever did. But Y/N knew she had to keep fighting, to keep pushing forward, even if it felt impossible. She had survived HYDRA, she had endured unimaginable pain, and she would find a way to survive this too.

The memories of her time in HYDRA, the torment, the helplessness— they were a part of her, but they didn't define her. She was stronger than that, stronger than the pain and the betrayal. And as she sat there, tears streaming down her face, Y/N made a silent vow to herself. She would find a way to move past this, to find her strength again, and to never let anyone break her the way HYDRA had tried to.

With that thought, Y/N closed her eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of her mind. The road ahead was uncertain, and the pain was still raw, but she was determined to keep fighting. For herself, for her future, and for the chance to prove that she was more than the sum of her past traumas.

Her closed eyes instantly shot opened when the door of the room opened, and Natasha walked in, clad in her black widow suit. Her expression was a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, how are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft.

What do you think? She wanted to spat but instead, Y/N sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the floor. She couldn't bring herself to look at Natasha. The betrayal cut too deep, and the words she wanted to say were lodged in her throat.

Natasha took a step closer, her eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N, talk to me."

After a long, tense silence, Y/N finally looked up, her eyes filled with pain and anger. "Why?" she asked, her voice trembling. "How could you do this, Natasha? After everything we've been through, everything you made me believe? Was any of it true?"

Natasha's face crumpled with guilt and sorrow. "I… I didn't want it to happen like this. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Then why?" Y/N demanded, her voice rising. "Why did you lie to me? Why did you pretend to care?"

Natasha struggled to find the right words, but they seemed to elude her. "It was my mission. But that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real. It was real, it was real to me!"

Y/N scoffed, bitterness lacing her voice. "Real? You were sent by someone who wanted me dead! Now tell me, Natasha, did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?"

Natasha's eyes widened, and she shook her head vehemently. "No, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" Y/N's voice was filled with incredulity. "By lying to me? By using me?"

Natasha took a deep breath, her own eyes filling with tears. "I did what I had to do. But my feelings for you were real. They still are."

Y/N's voice was a whisper now, raw with emotion. "I would have died for your sins, Natasha."

The words hung in the air, heavy and damning. Natasha was stunned, her mind racing to process the depth of Y/N's pain.

Y/N continued, her voice breaking. "I loved you, Natasha. Every day, I fell deeper in love with you. And now… now I find out it was all just a goddamn mission to you."

"No," Natasha said quickly, her own heart breaking. "It wasn't just a mission. You mean so much more to me than that."

"But it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden, was it?" Y/N's voice was filled with hurt and sarcasm. "Once the truth was out, it lost its appeal, didn't it?"

Natasha shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, Y/N. Please, believe me. I… I love you too."

Y/N looked away, the pain too much to bear. "I don't know what to believe anymore. How can I trust you after this? You were the one person I thought I could rely on."

Natasha took a step closer, reaching out to touch Y/N's hand, but Y/N pulled away, the betrayal still too fresh. "I'm sorry, Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so, so sorry."

The room was filled with the sound of their silent tears, the weight of their shared pain too heavy to bear. And in that moment, both of them knew that their lives would never be the same again.

Y/N's heart ached with the weight of her emotions, "I want you to leave, Natasha."

"Y/N, please…"

"I SAID LEAVE!"

Natasha left the room, her heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. She wanted to stay, to explain herself further, but Y/N's shout had left no room for argument. As she stepped into the corridor, the weight of her actions pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside her.

The mission had seemed straightforward at first: locate the escaped HYDRA experiment and bring her in. It should have been simple. But Y/N had become so much more than a mission. She had broken through Natasha's defenses, seen her vulnerabilities, and made her feel things she hadn't thought possible. Y/N had become her person, the one exception in her life of secrecy and deception.

Natasha walked through the sterile halls of the Avengers' facility, each step feeling heavier than the last. She made her way to an empty room, seeking solitude to process everything. She couldn't shake the image of Y/N's face, the pain and betrayal in her eyes. The girl she loved, the one who had seen her at her weakest, was now lost to her.

"Natasha," a voice called softly. She turned to see Steve Rogers standing at the door. His expression was filled with concern.

"Steve, I—" Natasha began, but her voice faltered.

Steve stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I know this isn't easy for you."

Natasha shook her head, tears threatening to spill. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was just a mission, but she became so much more."

Steve nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Sometimes, the lines blur. You can't help who you care about."

Natasha sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands. "She hates me now. I don't blame her. I lied to her, used her. How can she ever forgive me?"

Steve placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Give her time. She needs to process everything. And you need to be honest with her, even if it's painful."

Natasha looked up, her eyes filled with anguish. "But what if it's too late? What if I've lost her forever?"

Steve's expression softened. "You haven't lost her. Not yet. But you need to fight for her, Natasha. Show her that your feelings are real, that she's more than a mission to you." squeezing her shoulder softly, he added, "Who you are is not what you did."

Natasha nodded, though uncertainty still clouded her mind. She knew Steve was right, but the path ahead seemed so daunting. She had to find a way to bridge the gap she had created, to make Y/N understand that her love was genuine.

The days that followed were torturous. Natasha threw herself into training and missions, trying to distract herself from the ache in her heart. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape the thoughts of Y/N. Each night, she lay awake, replaying their conversations, the laughter they had shared, and the tender moments that had made her feel alive.

Natasha sat alone in her quarters, staring at the ceiling, trying to wrap her mind around everything that had happened. The sterile, cold walls seemed to close in on her, echoing her isolation and guilt. She had replayed her confrontation with Y/N countless times in her mind, each time feeling the knife of betrayal twist deeper. The mission had been clear-cut, simple even: locate and capture. But then she had met Y/N, and everything had changed.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember the first time she had seen Y/N. It had been a rainy night in a rundown part of the city. Y/N had been fighting off some low-level thugs, her powers crackling around her in a wild display of raw energy. Natasha had been struck by her ferocity, her determination, and the deep sadness that seemed to emanate from her. She had been assigned to neutralize Y/N, but instead, she found herself captivated by her.

Natasha's heart ached as she remembered their first real conversation. It had been awkward, filled with mistrust and guarded words. But over time, they had grown closer. Y/N had slowly let her guard down, allowing Natasha glimpses into her world, her pain, and her struggles. They had trained together, laughed together, and shared stories that had created a bond Natasha had never expected.

But now, all of that was shattered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Weeks passed and Natasha still feel the weight of her poor decisions pressing down on her like a heavy, unyielding burden. The guilt gnawed at her constantly, making it hard to focus on anything else. She had tried to compartmentalize, to push the feelings aside, but they refused to be ignored.

Because now, her person— Y/N— was filled with anger and betrayal, emotions that Natasha herself had caused. Every time she saw Y/N's face, the pain was still evident, a constant reminder of the trust she had shattered. Natasha had made a series of poor decisions, each one leading them to this moment of intense suffering.

In the quiet moments, when she was alone with her thoughts, Natasha's mind would wander to a life that seemed like a distant dream— a normal life with Y/N. She imagined lazy mornings in bed, laughing over shared breakfasts, evenings spent watching the sunset, and a future filled with love and happiness. But those dreams felt like they were slipping further and further out of reach.

She often found herself in a spiral of doubt and regret. Was what she did worth it? Was there any way to redeem herself in Y/N's eyes? The questions were relentless, and the answers were elusive. Y/N had become her everything, the one person who had seen the real Natasha and still loved her. And now, that love seemed impossible to salvage.

Natasha's thoughts often turned dark, filled with self-loathing and despair. It was a losing battle in her mind. On one hand, she was a hero, an Avenger dedicated to protecting the world. On the other hand, Y/N saw her as a villain, a betrayer who had shattered their trust. The dichotomy was tearing her apart, and she didn't know how to reconcile the two.

Everywhere Natasha turned, she was haunted by the decisions that led her to this point. She recalled the moment she first saw Y/N's file, the cold detachment she felt as she read about the mission's objectives. Y/N was just another target then, another task to be completed. But then the mission parameters blurred, and Natasha found herself drawn to Y/N in ways she hadn't anticipated.

She was not even supposed to tell and share stories, let alone her past life when she was still under Red Room.

But Y/N's strength, resilience, and vulnerability captivated Natasha, breaking through her professional detachment. She remembered the first time she saw Y/N laugh— a genuine, carefree laugh that lit up her entire face. Natasha had felt something stir within her, something she hadn't felt in her entire life: hope. Hope that there was more to life than missions and deception. Hope that she could find redemption through love.

But now, that hope felt like a cruel joke. Natasha was left to grapple with the reality of her actions. She had deceived Y/N, played with her emotions, and shattered her trust. The look of betrayal on Y/N's face was seared into Natasha's memory, a constant reminder of her failure. It haunted her dreams, turning them into nightmares where Y/N's eyes bore into her with unspoken accusations.

Natasha tried to lose herself in her work, but it was no use. Every mission, every fight, felt hollow without Y/N by her side. She replayed their last conversation over and over in her mind, dissecting every word, every gesture, searching for a way she could have handled things differently. If only she had been honest from the beginning. If only she had found a way to protect Y/N without betraying her trust.

The guilt was relentless, gnawing at her insides. Natasha found herself questioning her very identity. Who was she if she could betray the one person who meant the most to her? Could she still call herself a hero? The lines between right and wrong had become so blurred, and Natasha felt like she was losing herself in the murkiness.

She sought solace in her training, pushing her body to its limits in an attempt to silence her mind. But no amount of physical exertion could quiet the storm of emotions raging within her. Each punch, each kick, was a futile attempt to fight against the guilt and regret that consumed her.

In her quieter moments, Natasha allowed herself to imagine a different reality, one where she and Y/N were living a peaceful life together. She envisioned a small, cozy home, filled with warmth and laughter. She saw herself waking up next to Y/N, their fingers intertwined, the morning light casting a gentle glow on their faces. She imagined sharing quiet moments, stolen kisses, and whispered promises. But as beautiful as these fantasies were, they were also a painful reminder of what she had lost.

Natasha's mind was a battlefield, torn between the desire to make things right and the fear that it was too late. She replayed every interaction with Y/N, every smile, every touch, trying to decipher where she went wrong. She questioned her own worthiness, wondering if she deserved forgiveness, if she deserved Y/N's love.

Her nights were the hardest. Alone in her room, Natasha would lie awake, her mind racing with thoughts of Y/N. She would reach out to the empty space beside her, imagining that Y/N was there, her presence a comforting balm to Natasha's troubled soul. But the emptiness only served to deepen her sense of loss and regret.

Natasha's heart ached with a longing she couldn't quell. She wanted to reach out to Y/N, to beg for her forgiveness, to prove that her love was real. But she was paralyzed by fear— fear of rejection, fear of causing more pain, fear of facing the truth of her actions. The vulnerability that Y/N had awakened within her was both a gift and a curse, leaving Natasha exposed and raw.

In her moments of despair, Natasha would recall Steve's words: "Who you are is not what you did." But it was hard to believe those words when the evidence of her betrayal was so clear. She had hurt Y/N. The guilt was suffocating, a constant reminder of her failure.

Natasha's mind would drift back to their time together, to the small, intimate moments that had defined their relationship. She remembered the way Y/N's eyes would light up when she talked about her dreams, the softness in her voice when she whispered Natasha's name. She remembered the warmth of Y/N's touch, the comfort of her embrace, the way she made Natasha feel like she was worth something, like she was more than just a weapon.

But now, all of that felt like a distant memory, a beautiful dream that had turned into a nightmare. Natasha was left to grapple with the reality of her actions, with the knowledge that she had destroyed the one good thing in her life. The weight of her choices was crushing, leaving her feeling hollow and lost.

In her darkest moments, Natasha would wonder if it was too late to make things right. She questioned whether Y/N could ever forgive her, whether there was any hope of salvaging their relationship. But despite the overwhelming doubt, there was a small, stubborn part of Natasha that refused to give up. She clung to the hope that, somehow, she could find a way to prove her love, to show Y/N that she was more than her mistakes.

Natasha knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult. She would have to face her own demons, confront the parts of herself she had kept hidden for so long. She would have to earn Y/N's trust, step by painful step, proving that her love was real and unwavering. It was a daunting task, but Natasha was determined to try.

As she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Natasha made a silent vow to herself. She would do whatever it took to make things right with Y/N. She would fight for their love, for the future she had once dreamed of. It wouldn't be easy, and it might take a lifetime, but Natasha was willing to give it her all.

With that thought, Natasha finally felt a small sense of peace. The guilt and regret were still there, but they were tempered by a newfound determination. She would prove to Y/N that their love was worth fighting for, that she was worth fighting for. And maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, Natasha sighed and stood up, pacing the small room. She knew she had to try to explain everything to Y/N, even if it seemed impossible. She couldn't just leave things as they were. She owed Y/N the truth, even if it hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Natasha left her quarters and walked towards Y/N's room. The halls were quiet, the soft hum of the facility's systems the only sound. As she approached the door, her heart pounded in her chest. She hesitated for a moment before knocking softly and entering.

Y/N was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes red from crying. She looked up as Natasha entered, her expression guarded. The sight of Y/N in such pain made Natasha's heart ache even more.

"Y/N," Natasha began, her voice trembling. "I know you don't want to see me right now, but I need to explain."

Y/N's gaze was cold. "Explain what? How you lied to me? How I was just a mission to you?"

Natasha shook her head, tears welling up. "No, Y/N. You were never just a mission. Not to me. Let me tell you everything, from the beginning."

Y/N crossed her arms, clearly skeptical but willing to listen. "Go on then."

Natasha took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "When I first found out about you, I was assigned to the mission. It was supposed to be simple— locate you and bring you in. But from the moment I saw you, I knew it wasn't going to be that straightforward. You were different. You were fighting off those thugs with such determination, and I saw something in you that I couldn't ignore."

Y/N's eyes softened slightly, but she remained silent, letting Natasha continue.

"I watched you for a while, trying to understand you," Natasha said, her voice filled with regret. "I saw the pain you were in, the loneliness. I couldn't just complete the mission and hand you over to people who would hurt you. So I made a decision. I approached you, and I tried to get to know you. And the more I got to know you, the more I realized how special you were."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears, but she still didn't speak.

Natasha took a step closer, her voice pleading. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. My feelings for you are real, Y/N. They always have been. I love you." Natasha continued to confess her feelings, her voice raw with emotion. "Y/N, I know I hurt you. I know what I did was unforgivable. But please, believe me."

Y/N finally spoke, her voice trembling with emotion. "How can I believe you, Natasha? After all the things you did?" Y/N's eyes blazing with anger. "Is this the goal, Natasha? Breaking me? Rusting me?"

"No," Natasha answered quickly, shaking her head. "No, that's not it at all. Let me explain everything." Natasha felt a lump in her throat. "I know I've given you every reason not to trust me, but I'm begging you to believe me. I couldn't just let you die, especially not at HYDRA's hands. They're still after you."

Y/N's voice was filled with bitterness. "I just died inside. And it's because of you, Natasha. You killed me, you sleeper cell spy."

Natasha flinched at the harsh words, feeling the weight of her guilt. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted any of this to happen. If I could go back, I would change everything. I'd never do this to you and… and I'm not what I did. Believe me."

Y/N's laugh was cold and sarcastic. "You are what you did, Natasha."

The words echoed in Natasha's mind, clashing with Steve's voice reminding her that who she is isn't defined by what she did. But Y/N's words felt truer in this moment, cutting deeper than any physical wound.

"I'll forget you, Natasha, someday," Y/N said, her voice chillingly calm. "But I'll never forgive."

Natasha's heart shattered at those words. She had known that repairing their relationship would be difficult, but hearing Y/N's definitive statement felt like a death sentence to her hopes.

Y/N continued, her eyes cold and unforgiving. "You're the smallest woman who ever lived."

Natasha stood there, speechless, the weight of Y/N's words pressing down on her like a physical burden. She wanted to fight back, to prove her love and remorse, but the pain in Y/N's eyes told her that it's a bit too late.

three days in the making!! ( became four since i added a few things today, lol ) how was it? was it worth it? i think so. i love tsmwel soooo much!! been playing it over and over and over again. i mean, isn't it obvious? ( 9.361k words… ) let me know what you think and enjoy reading!

if i said best ttpd song, you say what??

[hazymoonlinh]

A bet is a bet, right, Lighter ?

(In conclusion, he wear a maid dress. :))))) )

(Lighter x gn!reader)

The dim light of Burnice’s dingy bar you’d chosen for your little “duel” added to the atmosphere. The place was perfect for the game you had in mind. A row of shot glasses sat between you and Lighter, each filled with something potent enough to knock out a lesser soul.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his smirk cocky as ever. “You sure about this, babe? You’re playing with fire.”

You mirrored his smirk, tapping your nails against one of the glasses. “Don’t flatter yourself, darling. I’m tougher than you think. The rules are simple—whoever passes out first loses. The winner gets one demand. No refusals.”

His red-slashed eyes gleamed under the bar’s flickering neon sign. “And what exactly are you planning to demand from me?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

Lighter chuckled, the low sound rumbling in his chest. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The duel began. Glass after glass was downed, each burning its way through your throat and spreading a pleasant warmth in your veins. The patrons at nearby tables stopped what they were doing to watch, murmuring in hushed tones as they witnessed the famous Lighter Lorenz locked in a drinking battle with his equally formidable partner.

“You’re holding up better than I expected,” he teased, setting his latest glass down with a clink.

“And you’re sweating more than I thought you would,” you shot back, swirling the next drink in your hand before tipping it back.

By the fifteenth round, the world was spinning for both of you, though neither would admit it. Lighter leaned forward, elbows on the table, as his sunglasses slid down his nose. “You… you’re something else,” he slurred, though his grin never wavered.

“You… too,” you managed, slamming down another glass. Your tail flicked lazily behind you, betraying your smugness.

It wasn’t until the twenty-second round that his head slumped forward, forehead resting on the table. A low groan escaped him. “Damn it… fine. You win.”

You blinked through your own haze of intoxication, raising both arms triumphantly. “Ha! I knew it!” you declared, though your words were more of a proud slur.

He looked up at you with tired eyes, lips twitching into a grin. “Alright, what’s your command, your highness?”

You leaned forward, fingers brushing his chin as you purred, “You’ll know soon enough.”

The next morning, Lighter groggily woke up in your shared quarters to find the maid uniform neatly folded on the table, along with a note:

“You lost, love. Time to pay up. Put it on. I’ll be waiting~.”

The groan he let out could’ve rivaled the sound of thunder, but deep down, you knew he’d do it. After all, a deal was a deal.

You lounged comfortably on the couch, legs crossed, fingers tapping the screen on phone. A whistle escaped your lips as Lighter stepped out from the other room.

There he was, the ever-composed Lighter Lorenz, but today? Today, he was far from composed. The maid uniform you’d so cleverly acquired clung awkwardly to his tall, broad frame, the frilly apron tied just a little too tightly around his waist. The hem of the dress barely grazed his knees, and the stockings—well, you’d convinced him to wear those too, much to his chagrin.

And, of course, he hadn’t dared to remove his signature sunglasses, even in this humiliating state. His face was bright pink, contrasting sharply against his usual cool demeanor.

“Say something, and I’m walking out that door,” he grumbled, the low growl in his voice betraying his embarrassment.

You couldn’t help it; laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. “Oh, mon dieu, you’re gorgeous. I think you missed your true calling, Lighter.”

He crossed his arms, the frills of the sleeves only adding to the absurdity. “You got what you wanted. Can we end this now?”

“Not a chance,” you said with a sly grin, patting the seat next to you. “Come here, maid boy. Your master has some… requests.”

He groaned, dragging his feet as he approached. “You’re going to milk this for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

The moment you pulled out your phone, Lighter’s eyes narrowed, a low groan escaping his lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Oh, I’m not,” you chirped, grinning like a cat who just cornered its prey. “C’mon now, spread your legs and kneel on the couch. Hands under your chin, please.”

He glared at you, his lips pressing into a firm line, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I hate this,” he muttered, shifting awkwardly into position on the couch. His knees dug into the cushions as he rested his hands under his chin, striking a pose so out of character it was almost painful to look at.

You didn’t hold back a laugh this time, snapping a quick photo. “Oh, that’s perfect. So delicate. You’re a natural.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he growled, but he stayed in place, his pride visibly crumbling with each passing second.

“Now,” you said, scrolling through the photos like a professional photographer critiquing their work. “Lie on the couch, stomach down. Legs curled up behind you. You know, classic flirty pose.”

Lighter groaned loudly, dragging a hand over his face before reluctantly complying. He flopped onto the couch, grumbling under his breath, and tucked his legs up behind him like you asked.

You tilted your head, squinting dramatically at him as you snapped more photos. “A little more sass, darling. Give me your best ‘come hither’ eyes. Sell it to me.”

“This is the worst day of my life,” he muttered, glaring over his shoulder.

“Oh, no, this is the best day of mine,” you shot back, snapping another picture.

He let out a defeated sigh, burying his face in the couch cushions. “I’m never agreeing to one of your stupid challenges again.”

You set the phone down, grinning as you sat beside him, running a hand through his messy hair. “Oh, you say that now, but you’ll forget by the next time I bat my eyelashes at you.”

He shot you a look, his blush still lingering. “Not this time.”

“Sure, sure,” you said, leaning down to kiss his temple. “You’re adorable, by the way. Thanks for being a good boy.”

___

(I have a draft of the gang seeing him in that dress too but meh, it’ll be too long and I already flop enough)

[studioeisa]

⋆.˚ svt as formula one drivers ♡︎ soonyoung, wonwoo, joshua.

── .✦ 01. the one where soonyoung is enamored by a fan. 02. the one where wonwoo falls for a journalist. 03. the one where joshua has someone at home waiting for him.

✰ fluff, light angst [blink and you'll miss it], competitive!soonyoung, in denial!wonwoo, boyfriend!joshua, formula one references, svt ensemble, all sfw. intentional lowercase.

THE ONE WITH SOONYOUNG.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who started off as a street racer, who has always been a bit reckless when it comes to practically everything.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who signs with alpine alongside jihoon; if jihoon is ice, then soonyoung is fire. they make it work.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who is an absolute devil on the grid. he may not always place well in the championship standings, but he will give everyone hell before they can overtake him.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who's just a little bit controversial for flirting with audience members, whether they're a fan of alpine or not. what can he say? he's a thrill-seeker, and there is some thrill in all the pretty people who want to get with a racer.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who is all that until he meets a fan who just— shuts him up. he's struck dumb by you, which is a tall feat. love at first sight is a cruel twist of fate for someone as impulsive as he is.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who just can't do it, who can't flirt with you the way he has with the dozens of onlookers in the grandstands. it frustrates him. he literally races for a living, and yet you have his heart hammering in his chest like he's some goddamn fool.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who does end up kind of acting like a fool in front of you once he thinks he has enough courage to strike up a conversation. he hits you with an outdated pick-up line and is mortified at how terribly the conversation goes. (jihoon never lets soonyoung live this down.)

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who gets a bit sulky when he realizes you're not there for him, per se. you're a fan of some other team, some other driver. he absolutely hates it.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who stumbles over his words when he attempts to change your mind, who only grows more and more frustrated as you cheer on the cars shuttling past him.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who decides that the best way to go about this is to do the one thing he does best: drive.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who gets even more unpredictable, who finally starts actually winning races instead of just driving for the sake of it. jihoon is impressed, and the other drivers are disgruntled, but soonyoung only really cares about one opinion.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who— drenched in champagne after winning at the monaco grand prix— finds you in the paddock clubs. "did you see?" he asks you, his helmet tucked under one arm. "were you watching?"

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who says, "keep your eyes on me, baby. i'm going to be winning a whole lot more."

THE ONE WITH WONWOO.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who knows better than anyone that the car maketh the man, and so he keeps up with all the tech as he tears through race after race.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who is the face of mclaren. he signs with mingyu— a non-negotiable in all of his contracts. the two are formidable on the grid, but are best friends away it.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who hates the media circus, honestly. that had always been more of mingyu's thing. wonwoo has to endure it all the same because it's part of his job, because he wins races and reporters always want to hear from the winners.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who doesn't mind one reporter, honestly. you're efficient. you're professional. you ask questions that make him think.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who unintentionally makes you enemy number one among all the f1 journalists, because he's always calling on you when he gets the chance.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who will lean in just a little too close (to hear you better, he'll reason). who will nod in all the right places as you ask your question (he's being polite, he says).

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who is teased relentlessly by mingyu, because of all the people that wonwoo could've fallen for, it's someone who's just doing their job.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who calls mingyu absurd. he is not in love. ("a crush, then?" mingyu insists, but wonwoo shakes that off, too. he's a man in his late twenties. he wasn't supposed to get crushes.)

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who is reading one of your articles on his phone and smiling at the little icon featuring your face when he realizes, fuck. oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who buries himself in studying about race strategy and aerodynamics, like he might find the answers there. he starts only answering the reporter questions he hates. about the weather, about car conditions, about his cat back at home.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who has to be cornered and confronted by mingyu, who realizes immediately that wonwoo is trying desperately to shift gears.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who is here to win, who is here to represent mclaren, who can't bear to be distracted by a sharp tongue and a pretty face. right? right? he tells mingyu all that as he paces the pit box, as he tugs at the tips of his fire-resistant gloves.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who has to be reminded, gently, by mingyu, "hyung, you're allowed to want more than one thing."

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who, the next time he sees you, flips the script. "you're always asking me questions. i'm allowed to ask you one of my own, don't you think?"

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who swears it's worse than racing— the feeling in his chest when he finally manages to choke out, "what does a guy have to do to take you to dinner?"

THE ONE WITH JOSHUA.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who started karting at the young age of six, who was practically born in to the life of motorsports.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who carves out a space for himself in mercedes. his partner vernon has nothing but praise for him. joshua, after all, is the picture perfect mercedes driver: sleek, sophisticated, meticulous.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who— single-minded as he is— is still controlled and efficient. who has never crashed in his career. who would rather lose than put himself in danger.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who does all this because he knows there's someone back at home (or in the stands, if it's a particularly good prix), absolutely scared shitless.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who would give it all up for you in a heartbeat. would it suck? yes. but he would. you have to know that. all you have to do is ask.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who appreciates that you never ask. he knows you worry, knows he's probably shortened your lifespan with all the anxiety he's put you through, and yet you never make him choose. he is so, so grateful.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who is relentlessly excellent and pedantically careful because he owes you that much. it is his one promise to himself; his quiet vow to you. the red flags will never be for him.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who is criticized for playing things safe, for giving too much way to vernon. joshua merely shrugs and smiles and thinks of you, and how he's just excited to be back in your arms once this goddamn season is over.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who still wins, every so often, because he really is good. just cautious. and when he does win— when he's the one with the champagne bottle and the gold trophy and all the cameras trained at him— there's only one thing he looks for.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who will jump off the podium to find you, or point straight at a camera broadcasting live to reach you, as if to say, look; i'm in one piece. i'm fine. i did it. i'm fine. i love you. i'm fine.

[kajibunny]

⋆⁺˖♧° let's play ‪♡ (jo togame x reader) ⟡₊♢⊹

✿ summary: it's a fact that jo togame likes to play. you decide that you want to play with him, too. will one match of shogi and a bet lead to your endgame?  ✿ contains: mutual pining, super suggestive, lots of sexual tension, he calls you 'kitten'  ✿ a/n: this idea just popped into my head randomly while browsing the wb character facts that says togame plays go and shogi and i had to write it! at first it was supposed to be cute and fun, but then it ended up becoming kind of spicy too lol (⸝⸝⸝- ᴗ -⸝⸝⸝ ;) i dedicate this to @togament, come play with your man asjdnjsnsk and for all you togame lovers out there, hope you enjoy! ♡ ✿ wc: 1k

jo togame had quite the competitive streak when it came to strategy games like go and shogi. playing often cleared his mind, and he's acquired tons of practice by having recreational matches with his elder friends at the local public bath house. 

he noticed you from across the room, eyeing his earlier game in the common area, as it piqued your interest. (well, that, and he also piqued your interest.) it was refreshing for you to see such a handsome young man playing shogi with the elders and looking like he had the time of his life as he did. 

togame made his way over to you after his game ended, and asked you if you wanted to play a round with him too. 

"are you sure? i'm quite good at shogi, you know." you asserted, and he chuckled a bit at your claims. "oh yeah? then show me." 

"let's play then." you said as you sat down across from him, the board positioned in front of the both of you.

he liked a challenge, especially if that so-called challenge was from someone as cute as you, your arms crossed trying to look intimidating, but you were no more intimidating than a little bunny. togame found you so adorable.

"hm? how about we raise the stakes, loser fulfills the winner's wish." he said with a calm tone, as if he knew he was going to win. 

"okay, you're on. i guess i'll start thinking of my wish now." confident that you weren't going to lose either, as you had watched his previous game, and had an idea of how he played. 

"i won't go easy on you, kitten." he had a small glint presenting itself in his mesmerizing green eyes. 

"it's fine, i can take it." you assured him, not taking your eyes off his, even for a second. 

your shogi game with togame lasted for almost an hour, proving himself to to be a formidable opponent. 

it also didn't help that he was just too attractive for his own good that you couldn't maintain your concentration, and it pulled your focus away from the game whenever you caught yourself absentmindly staring and admiring his hazy eyes laced with thick eyelashes, the prominent veins in his big, calloused hands as he moved the piece, the same hands than ran itself through his tousled black hair whenever he was deep in thought about his next move, and when he looked at you with half-lidded eyes awaiting your turn, it just became too much for you to handle. 

you were in such close proximity to him too, the only thing standing in the way of both of you was that damn shogi board.

once he had occupied your whole territory with his pieces, you knew you were done for. you thought you had no weaknesses, but it turns out that you had one, and it was jo togame.

"checkmate, kitten." 

it was over, his king had captured yours, and you had no chance of escaping. how is this possible? you were so sure of yourself, but togame pulled up some tactics that you had never before seen in the history of shogi.

you definitely hadn't seen it coming. togame's moves were just too unpredictable. nonetheless, you blamed yourself inwardly for being so distracted by him during the match. 

afterwards, you two talked for a bit more as you thanked him for the match and helped each other pack up, your hands occassionally grazing and lightly touching his as you two arranged the shogi pieces. 

"okay, since you won, tell me what you wish for." you turned to him. you felt a warmth creeping up on your cheeks as he mischievously smiled, his hand motioning you to come closer to him so he could tell you. 

togame whispers in your ear, and you could feel his warm breath tickling your face. "i want you. you're what i wish for. let me know if you want to fulfill it." togame is a simple, straightforward man. if he puts his mind to something, he does everything he can to make sure he gets what he wants. 

and oh god, did you want him too. 

it all escalated way too quickly from there. it wasn't just a game anymore, it was reality. you weren't exactly sure how it happened but, in an instant, you two were all over each other, kissing unabashedly, tongues fighting for dominance as if all that built up tension from competing with each other translated into your mouths and hands. 

"i-ah, i was going to wish for the same thing too, by the way." you murmured in between his lips. "let's grant your wish too, shall we?" he softly backs you onto the wall, pinning your wrist against it with his hand, as he continues kissing you, controlling the pace this time, his mouth dominating yours completely. 

he tasted so good, a hint of lemon flavored ramune on his lips. you couldn't stop, he was like a magnet, the attraction between both of you way too strong that you couldn't separate yourself and your body from his. you felt like your make out session with togame lasted even longer than the shogi game you had played with him.

you knew togame liked to play to win, but that night, you felt like you had won too, and you were certain that your match with him had actually ended in a draw. 

but you couldn't settle for just a draw, you were way too competitive for that. there was no way you'd let him leave with the satisfaction, in fact, you were going to show togame how ready you were to have another round with him.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[steviebbboi]

geralt of revia freeuse, creampie, cumeating, reformed playboy trope please

Hi nonnie~ thanks for sending in these asks for my 200 Follower Celebration! Thank you so very much for sending in a writing request 💙 i'm hoping that it hits the spot! (ik Geralt def. does in this drabble 😏)

Btw, just calling this in very lovingly that I noticed that you have sent in more than two asks so I just wanted to let you know that I have only answered two of them for the sake of following the challenge's rules (and to make space for other requests that folx have sent in!). Hope you could understand, and hope that you do very much enjoy the ones that have been written~

The Witcher's Conquest

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Sorceress!Reader

W/C: 1.4k

Prompt(s): Reformed Playboy AU, freeuse, creampie, cumeating

*also included: MINORS DNI, THIS IS 18+, p in v sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), body worship, overstimulation.

Disclaimer: I wrote this one on my phone so I didn't get the chance to edit but promise to edit any mistakes once I am able!

“Geralt - this spell is not going to create itself.” You giggled while pushing away the wandering hands digging its way past the layers of your dress.

Geralt merely smirked at your attempts to push him away as he placed his rough hands against the bodice of your dress, stroking the material intimately as if it was a layer of your skin. 

Leaning his taut body into yours, his grip becoming greedier against your curves and trailing down to grasp onto your hips. He grunted his pleasure at the feeling of your warmth seeping through the thin fabric. “Leave it for now, darling. It’s been too long.”

Despite your attempts to grab the rosemary across the table to finish the spell, you leaned back into his reliable stature happily and turned your head to look up at his teasing, lustful eyes with your coy ones, “You’ve had me just last night.” 

Not missing a beat, he ferally growled his response, “As I said, it’s been too long.” 

Turning your body around to face him– in a spur of a moment, your legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck as he propped you up higher and supported your weight easily. His hands roughly groped your plush ass as he held your aroused gaze with his own intensity of want in his golden irises. Maintaining eye contact, he carried you over to your shared bed, the sheets still tussled from the passion you both had the night before. 

What Geralt and you have was special and a unity within its own right. Geralt has had many women before, whether they were tramps, sorceresses, or women he has stumbled across during his travels. 

But you, you were different. You were not a night of pleasure to leave behind nor were you a temporary patch up for him to feel sated until his next night with a woman. You were a conquest to win over. But not for your body nor for your power, nor for a night of a solace. 

But for your heart. 

The bravest, most powerful and gracious woman that he has ever met. The night that you healed him from his battle with a creature that was more formidable than he realized. The days that followed in how you helped repair not just his body but his soul. 

He knew then and there that when his body was able, he had to have you. And he ravished you.

The same intensity of love and genuine care from the first night that he had you was sparking even now as he kneeled in between your legs, his tongue stroking your weeping pussy as if it's the last night that he could ever have you. 

Your sweet sounds of sheer pleasure echoed the cozy home that you have built for yourself. A quaint and humble space that has held the many pleasured noises of your coupling since you’ve invited him into your life. Dark green leaves plastered against the wooden walls adorned with natural beauty, radiating light and warmth, creating a haven of peace against the dark world.

Enraptured in your bubble of bliss, Geralt’s rough grip held your legs open wider for him as he burrowed his mouth deeper into your aching cunt, his own satisfied groans rumbling against your wet clit. Your pussy quivered at the feeling of his tongue stroking and sucking expertly on your bundle of nerves. Making out with your pussy, he looked up at the content expression and pleasured smile on your face as he fucked your hole with his seeking appendage. 

The way that you enjoyed his worship made him even more feral and harder for you. He grunted into your pussy again– the bedding providing an unsatisfying substitute for him to rub his erection against as his tongue lapped at your wet greedily faster. 

Your moans became louder as your grip on his shined silver hair became tighter to hold his mouth even closer to your cunt. Your hips started rocking against his mouth that followed to not lose its source of sustenance. The delight that you were taking in his mouth eagerly pleasing you made you succumb to a fuzzy ‘far-away’ feeling, and you seeped deeper into it as Geralt traced his hand against your thigh to stroke at the opening of your cunt. A gasp broke free from your bite-ridden lips as you felt one of his fingers breach your tight opening, his tongue still caressing your clit. 

“Look at you, my flower,” Geralt smirked against your swollen clit and deliberately lapped at it in a teasing manner.

Inserting one more finger inside of you, you keened and your hips were now wild and uncontrollable as you writhed at the feeling. His burly arm held you down as he took more essence, which is what he wanted and needed from you. He returned his attention back to your clit and thrusted his fingers even deeper and faster inside of you. 

Still lapping leisurely, he chuckled at how already fucked-out you looked. He loved making you lose your inhibitions like this, and to know that you readily accepted everything that he took from you. Your whimpers, your wetness that was clinging beautifully to the bedding underneath you. 

Ready to see you fully lose your head, he crooked his fingers just so and witnessed your eyes roll back in your head as your back arched radiantly. Moans and needy whimpers caught in your throat as you finally let go in ecstasy.

Geralt groaned against your pussy and it was his turn to greedily take from you as you poured your delicious essence into his wanting mouth.

Your body became limp after you gave all that you could. Trying to catch your breath, you could barely acknowledge the loss of Geralt’s mouth and fingers until you felt something bigger brush against your sopping cunt. 

“Oh, you didn’t think we were finished darling?” At the mocking voice, your glinted eyes looked up at Geralt to find him stroking his large cock as he stroked the pre-cum coated mushroom tip against your swollen clit. 

He grunted in satisfaction at the feeling of your velvet walls gripping him so heavenly as he pushed in. His slow plunge allowed for the both of you to feel your union even more passionately. Deep and hard strokes were the only thing that you were capable of feeling in that moment. 

“That’s right, flower. Heavens, my little witch just letting me have you whenever I want. Fucking take it.” Geralt groaned as his own head tipped back at how tightly you were clenching around him. The pleasure was incomparable and so decadent, a feeling that he has only ever felt with you. 

You sobbed as his thrusts became faster but the depth of his cock still reached spots inside of you that no other man could ever reach. Tilting his hips just right, his wide cock brushed against that spot once again, over and over again that made you see those familiar stars. 

A flaming white heat enveloped your body once more as the stars burst. Screams of pleasure escaped your hoarse throat as you came around Geralt’s cock that was still thrusting ferociously into your wet pussy.

It only took three more thrusts, with how tight you were squeezing him, he couldn’t hold back anymore as he grunted his release. Your fluttering eyes only rolled back some more at the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim.

Geralt was catching his own breath as he looked down to see a mix of you and him coating his half-hard length. A full blown smile gracing his usually frowned lips at the stunning sight. He could already feel his body reacting to the absolute bliss that overcame his mind. 

His mind made up with the easiest decision that he made every time that you have made love, the both of you released another gratified moan at Geralt pulling out of you carefully.

You sighed in confusion at first as you watched Geralt lean down on his knees again to lap at your cum-drenched opening. Geralt lapped fully over your lips and clit to get you clean again, going slow as he noticed your whimpering at how sensitive you were.

Once you were empty of your shared love, you cried out as you felt Geralt thrust his hardened cock inside of you again. 

“My little flower, we’re not done until I say that we are done. Until you understand that I don’t ever need anyone else. You’re mine to fuck, to use,” He groaned out deeply, your pussy already warming his cock as wetness seeped out of you once more, allowing him to thrust even deeper inside of you than before. 

Tears of bliss left your crossed eyes as you mindlessly heard his last words reverberate in your ears.

“Whenever I want.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading! Off to write the next request :)

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[dreaming-of-epiphanies]

𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓬 𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓵!𝓣𝓸𝓶 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼

Description: A series of headcanons about being Tom Riddle's academic rival because let's be real, that's definitely the trope he'd have.

A/N: While I work on part 2 to Locked Out (and hype myself up to post smut for the first time... on that note, check out the poll at the end of this please!), I thought I'd share this! academic rival!Tom is my favorite.

Warnings: Suggestiveness (like very clear, but not spice... yet).

Additional notes: I'm not sure if this'll make sense, but if you want to hear the vibe I get when I imagine academic rivals Reader x Tom slowly falling in love, listen to Champagne Coast by Blood Orange, specifically the part starting around 1:53. :)

Okay I've been talking too much so here are the headcanons:

--

Your rivalry starts off early, like first or second year early. Tom is used to being the only one to answer questions in class (or at least answer them right), so when you raise your hand and beat him to it for the first time, he’s immediately intrigued (and annoyed) by you. 

The rivalry is a one-sided one for a couple of years, until near the end of fourth year you ask the professor about O.W.L. exams and if you should start preparing for them over the summer. Tom takes this chance to scoff and rather loudly remark how he’s already started studying- over a month ago, in fact. You fix him with a pointed stare and innocent smile, saying you were simply asking for the other people in the room, and that you’d actually begun two months prior. 

When you’re both chosen as prefects for fifth year, the stakes become higher. Tom makes it a point to brag about his marks whenever you’re near. He even goes so far as to boast about them in class when he knows you’ll overhear him. He’s trying to intimidate you and make sure you know he’s the top student. What he doesn’t expect, however, is for you to stalk up to him one day in the library and shove your paper in front of his nose. You scored half a point higher than him on your latest Defence essay. And that right there is when Tom realises he might’ve messed with the wrong person. 

He’s always glaring at you from that point on. He’s always looking at you in class; while you’re studying in the library; during meals in the Great Hall. And you’re glaring back. If he beats you to answering a question right in class, your glare is shooting daggers at the back of his head. When he grabs the book you need to write an essay before you, you watch him until he’s done. The second he is, you snatch it out of his hands and he watches your retreating form.

He memorises when your prefect schedule is so he can study more during those times. Now he’ll have a slight edge on you. What he doesn’t know is you’re doing the same thing when he’s on patrol. 

You start to sit next together in class, just so you can see the annoyance on the other’s face when you answer first. Really, each of your scowls are so satisfying. Has Tom’s smirk always been that cute? 

He doesn’t admit it, but he likes your rivalry. He likes the challenge. He likes being up against you. He tried to challenge someone else in a class you don’t share once, but it wasn’t the same. 

If you get the same mark, you both go to the professor and ask for feedback. Whoever gets the least amount is declared the unofficial winner and you correct your essays together in the library, exchanging glares every so often. Over time, these glares turn into glances.

And you start studying together nearly every night as well. It only makes sense- you’re in the majority of the same classes and you have to make sure you each have all the opportunities to get the best score. Maybe he marked down something you didn’t. Maybe you heard the professor hint as to what would be on the exam while he was preoccupied taking notes.

When you get sick, he gives you an exact copy of his notes. He has to make sure you stay a formidable opponent to him, after all. He wouldn’t want his win to be hollow when he does score higher than you. 

Everything changes when you’re paired together for a project in the winter of sixth year. You have to have productive conversations and not just argue about your marks. You meet in the library more frequently (even though you study there together every day). And when it closes, you both go to his dorm to continue working on it. Seeing Tom in his dorm casts him in a new light. You’ve never seen him outside of the library, class, or the Great Hall before. Is that why you’re suddenly captivated by how he looks?

The project opened up a new avenue of communication with Riddle now: friendly conversation. He’s surprisingly enjoyable to talk to. You find yourself laughing with him more than you should. Academic rivals aren’t supposed to look forward to seeing each other, are they? 

And yet you do. You always glance at him in the Great Hall or the corridor. He nods when he meets your eyes. Then you start smiling at him when you see him. He smiles back. And then he starts meeting you outside of your classes when you have a period apart, and walking you to your next one or to the library or the Great Hall. 

You start congratulating each other when the other scores higher than you. You start looking forward to the smug smirk you give each other. Why does your stomach flutter at his triumphant smile? Why does he think about the proud look on your face whenever he closes his eyes?

It isn’t until Tom skips one of your studying sessions and you miss him that you realise what’s happening. Merlin’s fucking beard, you’re in love with him you might possibly have a very small crush on him. 

And now that you’ve realised it, you can’t shut it off. The spark of happiness you feel whenever you see him. The heady rush you feel when he steps too close to you. The butterflies in your stomach when he meets your eyes. You’re falling, and you’re falling fast. (You’ve already fallen. So hard.)

Tom realises it one day when the two of you are reading by the Black Lake and you abruptly put your book down, running and leaping into the water. It’s so unexpected and he can’t deny the way he wishes he could freeze time when he sees you get out of the water, your dress soaking and hair dripping as you come and sit back down next to him, purposefully flicking some water onto him. 

Now that he’s realised it, he can’t stop looking at you. He couldn’t stop before either, but now he really can’t resist. The way you laugh. The way you smile at him. How you briefly touch his hand to get his attention when you’re studying in the library one day. It takes everything in him not to reach over the table and haul you into his lap right then and there to kiss you.

Of course you both think about kissing. A lot. Like, more than you know you should. When Tom’s head is bent over his parchment and you’re staring at his lips, the sweep of his hair, the firm grip of his fingers on his quill. What else could he do with those fingers? Tom can’t seem to tear his gaze from your mouth either. When you’re at the Three Broomsticks one day for a Hogsmeade trip and you pop a teacake into your mouth, he literally has to close his eyes to look away. The image is seared into his mind and he keeps picturing the way your fingers hovered at your lips at the most inopportune times.

This all comes crashing down one day when you get a perfect mark on an exam Tom knows you didn’t study as well as he did for. You start arguing and before you know it, it’s turned into a full-blown shouting match. You’re screaming at him for being a prick, he’s shouting at you for being lazy, and then he loses his train of thought because his attention is suddenly diverted to your lips. You stop screaming when you see his odd stare. He looks up in confusion before seeing your eyes are on his lips. And then all of a sudden you’re kissing and he has you pressed up against the wall. 

The kiss escalates fast. Years of pent up tension and feelings let out and as soon as it’s over and you’re lying together on his dorm bed, Tom asks you to be his girlfriend. You accept. 

Your rivalry only increases after that but somehow it makes it more fun. Now you can argue about marks and make out in the Room of Requirement twenty minutes later. And if you score higher than him? Well, be prepared for the ferocity with which he’ll kiss you. 

You each get Head Boy and Head [Girl/Boy] in seventh year. You study together for N.E.W.T.’s. There’s nothing left to compete for, and once you graduate you fear your rivalry will dissipate. But no, it remains just as strong, just with other things now. Who will be the first to make coffee for the other in the morning? Who will suggest the best date night idea? Who will propose first? (Tom wins that one). 

At your wedding, everyone’s speeches in some way mention the rivalry that brought you two together and how glad they are that it's stopped now. You just roll your eyes and smile at each other because you know it never has and never will stop.

And when your first child starts showing signs of competitiveness, the two of you exchange a knowing look and finally decide you can both be the winners. (Each of you secretly thinks they won, though). 

--

A/N (again): So if you read Locked Out (linked at the top of this post!), it's set up pretty well for a spicy part 2. I've never posted spice before, but I want to, so do you guys want that as well? (I'm making part 2 no matter what, already over 4000 words in!)

@viperify thought I'd tag you here since we both love academic rival!Tom 🤭

[wisteria-lodge]

the problem with 'who would win in a fight' hypotheticals is that they never establish what Universe everyone would be fighting in. which changes everything. I will now use Superwholock to discuss:

SUPERNATURAL

Magic exists in this universe, so Sherlock would absolutely be able to make magical bombs and tracking spells with like three blades of grass and a shoe. HOWEVER, since he would be hit by the general film-noir ness / Kripke edge-lord energy, he WOULD also be actively relapsing, and sleeping on John's couch because he just got kicked out of the British Men of Letters. BUT, depending on where we are in the show's run, Sam and Dean might actually be doing worse, so that's a wash.

It wouldn't matter though. because in the Supernatural Universe the Doctor is 100% a mad angel-variant who in an authentic attempt to protect Earth, accidentally destroys and replaces God.

WINNER - DOCTOR

SHERLOCK

No sci-fi or fantasy elements, so the Doctor is now Mycroft's really high powered friend, and the fact that he seems to know everyone and work for every organization is a running joke. (Sherlock is convinced he's a con artist.) Considering both a higher budget to show longer and more complicated fights AND the trick shots people in the Sherlock Universe manage to pull off - I think Sam and Dean both get much luckier and more competent. (I get coerced-into-working-for-Moriarty vibes from them.)

They won't be able to beat the Doctor, who will have Deus Ex Machina powers, and Sherlock will definitely be able to trick them. BUT the Winchesters will probably go down taking Lestrade or some beloved secondary character with them.

WINNER - probably still the Doctor, but it's close.

DOCTOR WHO

The only universe where I don't see a straightforward fight happening, because that's not really how the Doctor likes to solve problems. When he does, he'll be poking fun at the concept by fighting with a spoon or while wearing pajamas or something. But Superwholock can still be in conflict, that's fine.

Sherlock and the Winchester brothers are both on the track of the Doctor (Sherlock is still a detective, the Winchesters are conspiracy theorists.) I think Sherlock would be cast in a 'skeptic' role, to contrast with Dean Winchester's 'believer' .... and I honestly don't like Sherlock's chances. The Doctor Who universe is too earnest for the narrative to treat skeptics well long-term. Dean honestly has 'Companion' written all over him, although it probably wouldn't be very long before he got himself killed in some heroic sacrifice, and he'd STAY dead in this universe. At which point Sam either becomes the Master, or is revealed to have been the Master the whole time. And Villain!Sam is pretty formidable even in his own cringefail universe, so... I can't say I love the Doctor's chances.

WINNER: TPK. No one walks out of there alive.

[kikyoupdates]

For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔

various!jjk x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn

You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.

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Toji finds himself at a loss for words.   

Today, he made up his mind to pay a visit to the so-called 'strongest' sorcerer, Gojo Satoru. He wanted to witness the pinnacle of jujutsu for himself. To see, with his own eyes, what someone truly blessed—in all the ways he isn’t —can amount to.   

Toji was already surprised that Satoru took note of him. Never in his life has anyone else been able to do that. It seems it really is true. That a mere child possesses power beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. However, right now, he’s surprised for a different reason entirely.   

And of course, that reason is you .   

Toji blinks. He can’t help but wonder if he must be imagining things. It wouldn’t make much sense otherwise. There’s no rational explanation for what’s happening. Did some strange little girl seriously just walk up to him and ask for his help?   

“What,” Toji simply replies. It’s not even really a question. Rather, he’s in disbelief. And you’re still standing in front of him, looking up at him with hope and admiration.   

To be honest, no one has ever looked at him that way.  

“I want to become strong, just like you,” you repeat, and even now, your smile shows no signs of disappearing. “Since you don’t have any cursed energy, by any chance, do you… fight using cursed tools? Because I’d like to try learning how to use them as well. I’ve been looking for someone to help train me.”   

Satoru gapes at you. “Uh, [Name]? What are you saying? You can’t just ask some random weirdo to train you! We don’t even know who he is!”   

“It’s not nice to call people weirdos, Satoru. Especially when you barely know them.”   

“Either way, he’s still a stranger! Why did you even walk up to him in the first place? You’re seriously crazy!”   

Toji blinks yet again. Is this… some kind of joke? A comedy routine? Standing right in front of him is Gojo Satoru, hailed as the pride and joy of the jujutsu world. Even as young as he currently is, he can go head-to-head with the most formidable, elite sorcerers—and not only that, but he’d win .   

A few moments ago, Toji felt a chill in the air, and it wasn’t due to the cold winter breeze. When Satoru turned towards him, with those eerie, piercing blue eyes of his, Toji immediately felt inferior. Even more so than he already did. He’s not the type to get intimidated, and yet, there was no denying the sheer pressure behind that young boy’s gaze.  

Except now, that pressure is gone.   

All Toji sees is two stupid, bickering kids.   

“We’re leaving,” Satoru grits out. He glares pointedly up at Toji, still with his little arms wrapped around you, and the expression he makes is juvenile, or rather, childish . Because technically, he is a child.   

Toji just stands there with a frown. He’s heard of Gojo Satoru, of course, but he has absolutely no idea who you’re supposed to be. A relative, perhaps? Or a friend? But you just said that you’re not strong. That’s why you want to get stronger. Would the Gojo Clan really permit their prized jewel to waste time frolicking with some talentless little brat?   

“I can’t leave yet,” you insist. Satoru tries to pull you along, but you root your feet firmly into the ground, making it clear that you’re not going anywhere. Then you look back at Toji and smile once again. “What do you say, mister? Would you be willing to help train me? I’m [Name], by the way. What’s your name?”   

“Stop it!” Satoru fumes. “You shouldn’t go around telling strangers your name!”   

“But you already said my name earlier, and he obviously heard it. Silly Satoru. Always getting worked up for no reason. Don’t worry, I got this. Just watch and learn.”   

You grin confidently, and Toji can’t help but marvel at your idiocy. Or perhaps it’s lunacy. Either way, it doesn’t make much of a difference.   

“No,” he replies, watching as your expression drops. “Why should I train some brat I just met? You must have lived a very sheltered life until now, if you feel comfortable going around asking others for favors.”   

Satoru furiously grinds his teeth together. “How dare you. You don’t know anything about her. Rotten old fart. [Name]’s life has been anything but sheltered. If you don’t shut up, I’ll kick your ass.”  

“I’m nowhere near as old as you seem to think I am,” Toji scowls.   

Whatever. He’s had enough foolishness for one day. He already did what he set out to do. He came here to steal a glimpse of Gojo Satoru, and all it did was sour his mood even more. He’s better off walking away before he loses his temper.   

And so, he leaves. Or at least, he tries to.   

You’ve grabbed onto his arm and are refusing to let go.   

“Please at least hear me out, mister,” you insist. Toji stares down at you in stark disbelief, and meanwhile, Satoru outright gasps. Honestly, he kind of looks like he’s about to pass out. Your never-ending antics really aren’t good for his heart.   

It’s absurd. Two little kids are basically playing tug-of-war at Toji’s expense. Of course, he could push you back with ease, although something tells him the strongest jujutsu sorcerer wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Which just makes it even more tempting, truthfully. Toji already resents the world of jujutsu as it is. Perhaps purposefully angering Gojo Satoru, even at the risk of his own life, might give him some relief.   

He could do it. He could pick a fight if he really wanted to. Also, there’s no guarantee he’d lose. Maybe he should give it a try. If he were to somehow win against this spoiled brat who’s been blessed with everything he could ever dream of… maybe finally, the Zen’in Clan would acknowledge him.   

The longer Toji stares into Satoru’s pale, blindingly blue eyes, the more he feels like testing his luck. The more he itches to bring the world of jujutsu sorcerers, and everything it stands for, crumbling into pieces.   

But he doesn’t.   

Your next words resonate with him more than he could ever have imagined.   

“My family hated me because I was so weak,” you say, keeping your little hands tightly wrapped around Toji’s arm as you stare up at him, gaze solemn and determined. “They told me I was worthless, and that I would never amount to anything. My dad beat me really badly one day because he was so embarrassed of me. I’m sure it would have kept happening if Satoru hadn’t offered to let me live with him instead. I might not have zero cursed energy, like you, but I barely have enough to qualify as a sorcerer, and everyone always looks down on me for it. I think it’s unfair how some people get judged and cast aside, before they get the chance to prove themselves. Even if you don’t have any cursed energy, it’s obvious to me that you’re really strong. And it makes me feel like I could maybe be strong one day, too. I know it probably sounds like a hassle, but is there even a chance you might consider it? I could—oh, I know! I could pay you. Would you do it then? If I paid you enough?”  

Yet again, Toji finds himself at a loss for words.   

“Um… unfortunately, this is all I have on me right now.” You dig into your yukata and pull out a few wrapped candies, then gently place them into Toji’s open palm. He blinks, incredulous, as you smile once more. “I’ll pay you with real money, of course. Think of these candies as a promise, or like a down payment. I live with the Gojo Clan, and they’ve got a lot of money. If you agree to help train me, you might even become rich.”   

Satoru’s jaw couldn’t possibly be hanging any lower. “[Name], what the hell? I just told you to leave this geezer alone, and now you’re saying you’re going to pay him?!”  

“Well, I wouldn’t be the one paying, technically. Your relatives would.”   

“And you’re just assuming they’ll go along with this?!”   

“Maybe. If you do a good job of convincing them.”   

You grin widely. Toji is quickly realizing that you’re a cheeky little brat, and apparently, even Gojo Satoru doesn’t quite know how to handle you. Not that it stops him from trying, though. Satoru grits his teeth as he struggles to pull you back. He must be consciously avoiding using his cursed energy, so as not to hurt you even a little. But without it, he’s physically no stronger than an ordinary seven-year-old kid. It also doesn’t help that you’ve latched onto Toji with seemingly all the strength you can muster.  

God. This situation is so ridiculous, it’s almost laughable.   

“I’m not going!” you insist, burying your face in the sleeves of Toji’s kimono as he sighs irritably. “You can’t make me, Satoru! I need to hear how this nice mister responds first! And even if he says no again, I’m going to stay here until I change his mind!”   

Toji knits his brows together. “Aren’t you jumping to conclusions by assuming I’m nice?”  

“Oh. Maybe. But I like to try and stay optimistic,” you beam.   

 “It’s called being dumb , not optimistic,” Satoru grimaces. “We seriously need to go , already! You’re taking things too far!”   

He must have just mustered up the nerve to strengthen himself using cursed energy, because finally, he manages to pull you away from Toji. You stumble backwards, losing your balance in the process, but Satoru catches you in his arms and holds you tight, refusing to let you break free again.   

Strange. Toji always imagined that the strongest would be elevated above everyone else, detached from reality, seemingly in a world of their own. Like some kind of deity, so to speak. At least, based on the way that everyone seems to worship him.   

But he’s actually… surprisingly human. He has someone he cherishes deeply and strives to protect.   

Toji isn’t quite sure whether that makes him feel better or worse.   

“You’re awfully chatty, even for a kid,” Toji remarks. He stares down at the candies you just placed in his hand, but rather than handing them back to you or tossing them aside, he just shrugs and places them in his pocket. “You asked what my name was, didn’t you? It’s Zen’in Toji. You and that boy both belong to the Gojo Clan, so you must understand what this means. Our clans despise each other. Even if I agreed to help you, do you really think they would allow such a thing?”   

Right. You remember that was briefly touched on in the series. It had something to do with the former clan heads having killed each other in the past. The Gojo Clan and the Zen’in Clan have some particularly bad blood between them.  

Then again, the past is the past. What’s done is already done. There’s no point in worrying about something you can’t change.   

You must constantly face forward, towards the future .   

Toji can’t possibly understand it, and neither can Satoru, for that matter, but it’s okay. You’ve already decided that this will be your burden to bear. So, yeah. You could care less about a petty feud between clans. It’s nowhere near enough to deter you or keep you from accomplishing what you’ve set out to do.   

“Yeah. I’ve heard about it. I know that the Gojo Clan and Zen’in Clan don’t like each other,” you say.  

Toji nods. “Good. So, that means you understand how—”   

“I don’t really care, though.”   

“...what?”   

“I don’t care,” you repeat, and Toji can’t help the way his eyes widen. “How is it my fault that something like that happened a long time ago? It’s not like I was involved. It’s not like any of the people still alive today were involved either. Honestly, most jujutsu sorcerers are stupid. They care about stupid things and look down on others just because they don’t align with what they think is right. They can be upset if they want to be. I’m not trying to become stronger because I want anyone’s approval. I’m doing it because it’s important to me. So that I can protect the people I care about and make a difference. Even if others still consider me to be weak, based on their first impression of me… it’s fine. Because I’ll know they’re wrong. And that’s enough.”   

It really is absurd. What are you, six, seven years old? You’re just a kid. You’re supposed to be naive and ignorant to the harsh reality of the world.   

Yet, ironically, you sound more mature and clear-minded than any of the shitty, elitist adults Toji has ever known.   

This time, he really can’t help it.   

He laughs.   

“Haha… ha!” Toji throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, as the laughter rumbles up from deep inside his belly. It’s honestly cathartic. He can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard. In fact, he can’t remember the last time he laughed at all .   

Satoru pulls you even further back and shudders. “Ugh. This guy seriously gives me the creeps. [Name], I’m telling you, he’s bad news.”   

“If he wanted to hurt me, I’m sure he would have already done it by now,” you shrug.   

“What kind of reasoning is that…?”   

“Ah, that’s funny,” Toji keeps on laughing. He pauses to wipe the small tears that have formed in his eyes, then grins. “I didn’t know kids could be so entertaining. You seem much smarter than I initially gave you credit for. You’re probably smarter than the entire Zen’in Clan. Those bastards can’t even tell the difference between a head and an ass.”   

“Now he’s even comparing heads and asses,” Satoru whispers in your ear. “I’m starting to think he might be a pervert, too.”   

Toji slowly turns away. “Don’t change your way of thinking. It’d be a shame. You’re right that jujutsu sorcerers are all a bunch of idiots. This whole world they’ve built up is a joke. Like you said, they refuse to acknowledge anything that doesn’t align with their own beliefs. They’re all pathetic, narrow-minded scum.”   

Wow. Is Toji really venting to you right now? Meeting Satoru was one thing, but surely, you could never have been prepared for something like this .   

It makes you happy, though. If it brings him even a little bit of relief, you’ll gladly listen to him complain, over and over again.   

“Goodbye, strange little girl,” Toji chuckles. “[Name], you said? I’ll remember it. This day turned out to be unexpectedly amusing.”   

“Oh. You’re leaving? But… you never answered my question,” you frown. “Will you help train me? Or at the very least, will you try to consider it?”   

Toji is already walking away, waving you off with the back of his hand, and Satoru will be damned if he lets you chase after him again.   

Still, all things considered, this encounter went a lot better than you thought it would. It was a long shot anyway. At least you tried.   

What you don’t realize, however, is that Toji is still thinking of his meeting with you, even by the time he returns back to the Zen’in estate. He remembers your words from before, and as he passes by several clan members, somehow, their scornful looks don’t bother him quite as much as they used to.   

It’s a momentary reprieve, but he’s grateful for it.   

“Are you… Toji?”   

Toji turns his head. He’s sitting out in the courtyard, and a child has just walked up to him. He seems to be having lots of encounters with children today, for whatever reason. Although this child isn’t entirely unfamiliar to him. He recognizes him based on his appearance. After all, he’s the one rumored to take over as the leader of the clan one day. The youngest son of Zen’in Naobito. Naoya.  

Toji doesn’t bother responding. He just stares at him, with a sharp, unwavering gaze, and Naoya immediately freezes up.  

Truth be told, Naoya came here to mock Toji. He planned on finally seeing for himself what the infamous man with no cursed energy was like. He wanted to get a glimpse of his sad, pitiful expression. To ridicule someone weaker than him.  

Except Naoya can’t seem to do that, because just by looking at Toji, he can tell.  

This man is strong .   

Toji eventually turns away, still without uttering a single word, and Noaya watches as Toji pulls out the candies you handed him earlier. He stares at them, then chuckles. He isn’t unwrapping them to eat them or anything. It’s also strange that the coldness in his gaze has suddenly disappeared. His expression looks a bit more gentle now.   

Naoya swallows the lump in his throat and awkwardly approaches. “Is that candy? Do you… like sweets?”   

“Hm? No, not really.”  

“Oh. Then what’s the candy for?”   

Toji continues staring down at the palm of his hand. The silence feels unsettling to Naoya, especially because of the immense pressure Toji constantly exudes, but eventually, another chuckle can be heard.   

“This isn’t just candy,” Toji muses. “It’s… a down payment.” 

No matter how hard you try, there are bound to be some instances where things don’t work out the way you want them to.   

Based on how Toji walked off without giving you a proper answer, naturally, you figure it’s a done deal. It’s disappointing, of course, because you dared to imagine a world in which Toji doesn’t go on to commit atrocities, but not everything can be changed. Not always.   

You’re in for one hell of a surprise, though.   

“...he’s here,” Satoru mumbles one day, seemingly out of nowhere. You watch as his eyes widen, and he turns his head towards the entrance of the estate. “That man we met a while ago. The one with no cursed energy. He’s here .”   

“What?”   

You can’t quite believe it—at least, not until you walk past all the buildings and see him with your own eyes.   

Once again, Toji stands in front of you.  

“Yay, Toji! You really came!”   

Without even thinking twice, you run up to him and attempt to wrap your little arms around his broad frame. Toji stands there, looking slightly taken aback, but he doesn’t try to push you away, and that has to count for something, right?   

Satoru, however, looks like he’s about to throw a fit.   

“[Name]!” he fumes. “Why are you hugging that creepy old guy? It’s inappropriate! And besides, you should only be hugging me !”   

Despite Satoru’s protests, you continue to cling to Toji, because even if he’ll never admit it, you know that he could really, really use a hug.   

Satoru mashes his teeth together in frustration, and he even shakes his small fist in the air. Which is probably intended to be a warning, but he’s ridiculously cute, so it’s not too effective, in your opinion.  

Naturally, all of this commotion draws other people towards the source, and soon, you find yourself surrounded by several Gojo clan members.   

One of them gestures to you with a frown. “[Name]? Who is that man? Why did he just show up here all of a sudden?”   

“You fool. Can’t you tell just by looking at him?” another clan member mutters in distaste. “He… has absolutely no cursed energy. And that scar across his lip. It must be him . The failure of the Zen’in Clan. Zen’in Toji.”   

The atmosphere shifts all too suddenly. Everyone’s expressions are laden with disgust. Not only because of the general disdain sorcerers have towards those deemed as ‘weak’, but also due to the fact that he’s a Zen’in. In the eyes of the Gojo Clan, that’s the worst possible combination.   

Toji chuckles as he pats you on the head. “Not quite the welcoming I was hoping for. It seems not everyone is as friendly as you are, [Name].”   

Honestly, you can’t even really focus on the tension right now, because Toji just patted you on the head.   

Hehe. I’m happy.   

“State your business,” one of the clan members mutters. “You should know better than to show up unannounced.”   

“Well, that’s rude. Especially when I’m here to do one of you a favor.” Everyone blinks, clearly in disbelief, as Toji peers down at you. “Right, [Name]? Didn’t you ask me to help train you before?”   

“R-Really? You’ll… actually do it?”   

You marvel at the sudden declaration. Of course, the clan members are becoming more infuriated by the second, and Satoru doesn’t look too happy about it either. He actually looks like he’s itching to kick Toji in the nuts.   

A clan member steps forward, teeth bared. “Under no circumstances will a member of the Zen’in Clan have any part in—”   

“Shut up,” Satoru glares. “Let [Name] speak. I want to hear what she has to say first.”   

He turns back towards you, and even though he clearly has his doubts about Toji, for your sake, he might be willing to give him a chance.   

“Well? Are you sure you really want this guy to train you? Does it have to be him?”  

You look up at Toji. Admittedly, his character was far from innocent in the canon series. He chose to abandon his son and become an assassin. Nobody forced that life upon him. Ultimately, his demise was his own doing.   

But it probably wouldn’t have happened if only he’d been accepted in the first place. If only he hadn’t been treated like an outcast and made to resent the world he grew up in.   

Even though you might not succeed, you’re going to try and help him.   

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, hugging Toji even tighter than before. “I don’t want anyone else to teach me. It has to be him.”   

Satoru sighs. He wishes you didn’t have to make things so difficult. He’s never had a friend before, but ever since you stepped into his life, he’s been worrying about you practically nonstop. You’re honestly quite the hassle.   

But then again, you’re worth it.   

“And are you going to train her properly?” Satoru asks, now addressing Toji with a stern gaze. “I’m telling you right now, but you’re not allowed to hurt her. Not even a little bit. I’m going to be watching your training sessions to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. If at any point she’s in danger… I’ll seriously make sure you regret it.”   

Toji shrugs. “Sure. It would be pretty pathetic if I didn’t know how to hold back against a little kid.”   

Satoru stares at Toji for a while longer, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, but you’ve spent enough time with him by now to be able to read his expressions, and you can tell that he’s just about to give in.   

Finally, he nods.   

“Okay, then. You can train [Name]. I give you permission.”   

Your eyes light up, and you even let out a squeal of delight as you excitedly jump in place, still clinging to Toji all the while. He obviously doesn’t react with the same kind of enthusiasm, but as he looks down at your tiny little frame, he finds a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even if you’re just a little kid, it feels nice to finally be acknowledged by someone.  

It would be great if you could just wrap this up on a high note, but of course, things are never that easy.   

“Master Satoru,” one of the clan members gapes. “What in the world are you saying? We refuse to condone this. The nerve of this talentless Zen’in trash to even step foot here, let alone insert himself into your lives… it’s ludicrous. We simply won’t hear of it.”   

You frown. “But I promised to pay Toji in exchange for him training me. Why is it such a big deal? Clans should be helping each other out, not hating each other. It would be way more productive if everyone cooperated. Isn’t our goal supposed to be getting rid of curses and keeping people safe?”    

“You want to pay him? Absolutely not! How dare you even suggest such a thing!”   

“Uh oh,” Toji chuckles, messily ruffling your hair. “It looks like they’re getting really angry now. I guess it’s a good thing I decided that I don’t actually need to be paid.”   

You blink, incredulous. “You… don’t?”   

“No. It’s fine. If doing this pisses off your clan, as well as those in the Zen’in Clan… that’s already more than enough for me.”  

A prideful smirk sweeps across Toji’s face. It looks like he wants to stick it to the man, so to speak. He’d much rather get under the skin of those who’ve wronged him than have some extra cash to spend. Well, not that you care exactly what his motivations are. He’s agreed to help you, and that’s already more than enough.   

One of the clan members takes a deep, shuddering breath, and in the next moment, you can tell that their cursed energy has spiked.   

“ Leave ,” they demand. “This is your last chance. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to—”   

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”   

It’s Satoru, of course. He’s staring at them with an irritable expression, and he even walks up to you and Toji and assumes a protective stance.   

“[Name] says she wants this guy to train her, so he’s going to train her,” Satoru mutters. “I’m not too happy about it either, but this is what she’s decided, so I’m going to support her. If any of you have a problem with that, we can just leave. I’ll take [Name] far, far away from here and never come back. I’ll leave the Gojo Clan forever. Is that what you want?”   

Neither of them respond, but you can tell that internally, they’re panicking. Sure enough, if Satoru really wanted to, he could overpower everyone here and do as he pleases. There’s no way to force him into anything. All of his diligence towards his training up until now… he’s been doing it out of a sense of obligation, not because he doesn’t have the strength to object. He’s been going along with everyone’s demands because he’s the strongest. Because the fate of the world hangs on his shoulders.  

When it comes to you, however, he can be awfully selfish. And everyone in the Gojo Clan already knows that.   

“...fine.”   

Their faces are bitter, ashamed, and resentful, but nevertheless, they have no choice but to concede. The embarrassment of relying on a Zen’in Clan member is nothing compared to the risk of losing Gojo Satoru.  

You smile yet again. So, it’s really happening. You’re not sure how, but you actually managed to pull it off.   

From this moment onward, Toji is your mentor.   

“I’ll do my best,” you beam, eyes brighter than ever. “I’ll train my butt off, and I promise I won’t ever complain, no matter how hard it gets. You’re going to be super impressed. Just wait and see!”   

Perhaps this is nothing more than the silly, idealistic ramblings of an ignorant child. Children like to say all kinds of things, after all. They make big, grandiose promises that they can’t keep. And they constantly exaggerate, making their feats seem larger than life itself.  

And yet, Toji feels inclined to believe you.   

“Very well,” he chuckles fondly. “I’ll hold you to that, so show me. Show me… how you’re going to prove everyone wrong.”   

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

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