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stories-and-chaos · 3 months

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Shrike: The House Always…Loses? Pt 1

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. This was supposed to be a one shot about how Husk sold his soul, but I couldn’t help myself.]

[Part 1/2 Word count 3142 CW: alcohol consumption, gambling, mentions of sex.]

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The house always…loses?!

The 1970’s. You could tell there was some crazy shit going on in the world of the living. Mostly because the new arrivals in Hell had some particularly messed up forms. Tom Trench, 666 News’ anchor, had ended every broadcast for the past three years in an orgy after reporting on the war on Earth as well as the local conflicts.

“Complete lack of class,” Alastor shook his head as the two of you passed a large television screen in one of Pentagram City’s plazas. It was tuned to Tom’s nightly sign off; the camera off kilter and focused on the desk at a bizarre angle. Evidently the camera operator was part of the group on top of the desk. You could hear Tom saying, “oh fuck yeah I’m gonna invade all your landmasses baby,” followed by “here comes the firebombiiiiiiiiingggguh.”

“Zut alors, he’s turned into such a disgrace.” You scowled. “He might as well just work for that uncouth moth bastard at this point.” As you described Valentino, your voice gained a rough edge and wind started to swirl around you.

Your husband gave your hand a soothing squeeze. “Now now dear, you’ll muss your hair before I even get you on the dance floor if you keep it up. Besides cher, we’ll likely encounter him and the fad chaser at this party. If we all give into our emotions we’re likely to level the whole place.”

You breathed deeply. “And I’d hate to demolish a new establishment before even giving it a chance. Zestial requested a few songs as well, I can’t ruin my voice before granting him that.”

The two of you were attending a gala of Overlords and favored subordinates. One of the newest Overlords was providing the venue at his casino. These sort of get togethers were uncommon as more than one of the Pride Ring’s leaders in the same place often resulted in considerable property damage. So this newcomer was either extremely confident or foolhardy. Typical of a gambler.

At the entrance, you and your husband gave each other a final check; you straightened his bowtie, he smoothed back an errant lock of hair for you. Inside the casino was bustling with activity. It was set up into quadrants, each designated by a card suit. One section had slot machines designed to drain money from the poor saps who fell prey to their lights and false hopes. Deeper in were tables for more sophisticated ways to lose money. An elegant bar and well stocked buffet with dining tables nearby took up another section. The last quadrant had a stage for performers, lounge chairs for audience members and a dance floor. There was currently a band playing something forgettable on stage.

There was activity mostly at the gaming tables and bar. Not many Overlords were interested in the machines, the stakes weren’t high enough to care. And while the band was good, there wasn’t a headliner on stage at the moment. Food, alcohol, and barbed conversation was a bigger draw.

“Alastor, Y/N. Good to see you both.” The voice was sultry and professional all around once. “Ah, Carmilla, always a pleasure seeing you dear. You and your daughters,” you husband replied to the graceful Overlord.

“It’s been too long, Carmilla. Odette, Clara, you both look lovely cheres.” You glanced around the opulent venue. “So was this little fais do do your idea Carmilla?”

The tall woman shrugged elegantly. “In part. The owner of this establishment wanted to garner some attention and I owed him a small favor. I merely arranged the guest list. He took care of the rest.” She gestured to one of the card tables. “He’s entertaining guests with games of chance if you’d like to meet him.”

Alastor looked to you, “Well my dear, shall we meet our newest contemporary or mingle first?”

You spotted a tall figure draped in tacky fuschia leering in your direction from the bar, along with a shorter boxy headed demon boring holes into Alastor’s back. “Looks as if there are some unsavories around the liquor. I’m always interested in making new acquaintances.”

Arm in arm, you and your husband headed to the tables, Carmilla and her girls with you. You looked at them questioningly. “Ostensibly, as the hostess, I should introduce guests to each other.”

A demon about your height was dominating at the blackjack table. He had feline features in addition to a set of wings. Whereas your wings mimicked a natural bird’s coloration, his were more fantastical, vibrantly red and black with bars and dots all over. His hair was elegantly slicked back and his crisp tuxedo completed the air of a high roller.

He spotted Carmilla and after he won the current hand excused himself from the table, saying “duty calls friends.” He tucked his cane under his arm; the body was gold and topped with a sphere containing suit symbols, dice, and chips rotating like an orrery within.

“Husk, I’d like you to meet some of our colleagues.” Carmilla began as he approached. “This is Alastor, the Radio Demon, and his wife Y/N, the Singing Shrike. Alastor, Y/N, this is Husk, proprietor of this establishment and our newest sovereign Overlord.”

Alastor released your hand to shake Husk’s. “A pleasure to meet you my good man, truly a pleasure.” You followed up with your own pleasantries adding, “A lovely venue you have here. If the food and drink are up to the decor we may need to come around again, cher.”

“Pleased to meet you both,” his voice was rough but not unwelcoming. More like someone who had smoked excessively for years. “I don’t do things by halves, so I’m sure the refreshments are up to snuff. You’re both welcome to try the tables as well, if you can buy into the pot.” He stated a number that was high, but not exclusionary. No doubt he wanted to hook his patrons to get more value later. “We’re not betting souls tonight, that’s business and tonight’s for pleasure.” He gave you both a toothy smile before heading back to the cards.

You mingled both with Alastor and on your own. Waiters weaved through pockets of activity, serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres. There wasn’t really a crowd, which was smart considering how many Overlords could barely stand to be under the same roof, much less rubbing elbows.

It was somewhat inevitable though. A couple of hotheads, one you recognized and one you didn’t, started bickering, then yelling, then throwing punches. Any longer and they might have started bringing out some powers. Except they were stopped by a barrage of black playing cards. Off balance, they were crashed to the ground when a pair of giant dice rolled snake eyes onto them. Pinned, the two could only wait as Husk stalked over, the top of his cane glowing red.

“Didn’t your mamas ever teach you dumbasses any manners?” He slammed the butt of his cane down between their heads, sending a ripple of power out. “This is my house, my rules, so I’m going to teach you instead.” His gold pupils shined as he grinned down at them. “You wanna fight? You take it outside or I make you. You wanna settle things in here? We got plenty of ways to settle matters at the tables. Now what’s it gonna be bitches?” The two remained silent and continued to glare at each other. “Outside it is.”

The dice vanished but before the hapless combatants could do more than gasp a wave of poker chips carried them out the door with bone breaking force. Husk followed the wave calmly. From the other side, you could hear thuds, explosions, and screams. It only lasted a moment. Husk returned alone. One of the casino employees brought a new tuxedo jacket; there was dust and a bit of blood on the one he was wearing. He combed his hair back and returned to the game he’d been playing.

You sipped your whiskey, amused. Confidence it was then. “It seems our new friend can hold his own,” Alastor mused as he smoothly came up beside you. He held out a morsel of food for you, speared on a tiny skewer. “These are delightful, cher.” You pulled it off with your teeth. Shrimp in a spiced breading. “Mmm, that is lovely darling, thank you. And yes, he seems quite capable…for now.”

Anything else you would have said was derailed by a tall dark form appearing next to you and your husband. “If the two of thee have formed such an opinion of yon grimalkin, his potential is indeed of note.”

“My lord Zestial!” A light shiver sent your feathers rustling but that was expected around a demon as old and powerful as Zestial. Even Alastor tensed, a bit of strain around his lips and eyes. You curtsied as Alastor gave a slight bow. “You are as perceptive as ever. He has a great deal of power and potential. If his luck continues…”

Zestial chuckled. “Thou speaketh truth Shrike. One must make thine own luck. But ‘tis far too pleasant an occasion for such musings. Will thou grace the assemblage with thy voice tonight Shrike?”

“Of course cher!” As if you’d say no. Not to such a simple request from someone like Zestial. “I don’t suppose you have any requests? Or if there’s anything you’d like to hear darling?” you asked your husband.

Zestial shook his head. “Thy voice is a gift alone, I shall not presume to dictate its flow.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid I can’t help but dictate a little ma cher. Rosie requested a dance, so something she would enjoy?”

“I’d be glad to.” Alastor kissed your hand before seeing you off. You let Carmilla and Husk both know that you were ready to take the stage; you’d arranged everything ahead of time so the band was ready for you. Spotlights highlighted your mark as the lights dimmed slightly in the rest of the casino.

There was still a tremor of nervousness in your core as you took the stage. You were glad of it; if you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t care about the performance or the audience. So you let it fuel the passion in your voice. You started with something that would grab attention, tap some toes. The big numbers would come later. For now you wanted them to listen to you more than the alcohol roaring in their skulls.

Once you had a gathering and you could feel the upbeat vibe in the room, you went into some dance numbers. The first one was for Alastor and Rosie. Seeing those two dancing together made your heart soar. Some might have expected you to be jealous, another woman dancing with your husband right in front of you. But how could you be jealous of your partner and your friend being so joyful together?

Not to mention that after your deaths, Alastor had gotten taller while you…embarrassingly you were the same height. He could still escort you comfortably but there were some dance moves that you couldn’t do together. Rosie was the perfect height, light on her feet, and a delight to watch in her own right. Why deny her and Alastor the pleasure? Or yourself the pleasure of watching.

You sang a mix of eras, which kept the band on their toes. But you loved music from different times and hearing what you could do with various songs. Alastor and Rosie danced for most of the songs, you could see Carmilla’s daughters find partners, and Zestial with his eyes closed, head bobbing to the music. Not even glimpses of Valentino and Vox could spoil the mood.

As people got tired, you slowed things down. There was more swaying on the dance floor now; there weren’t a lot of overt couples among Overlords (at least not established permanent ones) but there were many that shared intimacy for a time. Some had followers they were particularly close to and the rest of their followers often had a special someone. So there were plenty of pairs swaying to your voice.

Your last song of the night was Alastor’s song. It was your routine to finish with that one; carried over from when you were alive. Any demons that had seen you perform before knew it was your finale and worth paying attention to. The applause after the last note felt like champagne bubbling in your glass: delightful. You had a policy of not taking encores or requests after Alastor’s song, no matter how much anyone offered.

Alastor was there as you descended, hand ready for you. “As ever, you make me glad you married me, cher. Shall we get something to eat, I’m starved.” He knew you were likely to be as well, you tended to be ravenous after a performance.

To your surprise, there was clapping still near you; Husk, pulled away from the gaming tables. “I haven’t heard a performance like that in years. I’ve got a proposition for you, Y/N. Can I have some of your time after your meal?”

You and Alastor exchanged a glance. “Why not join us? As you said, it’s a night for pleasure, so presumably it’s not too serious,” you said as Alastor nestled your hand in his arm.

“If you’re both alright with that, don’t mind if I do.” You took a seat at an empty table while Alastor prepared a plate for you. You didn’t always let him, but you had put a lot into that performance, with so many people to impress. Fortunately, neither he nor Husk took long. Vox was starting to eye you from across the room. You would have hated to get wires and grease all over Husk’s new floor.

Alastor presented your plate as smoothly as any waiter, earning a throaty chuckle from you. There were more of those lovely shrimp, prime rib, salad, a baked potato and a slice of peach pie. You ate like a bird, which meant voraciously. You had to eat close to half your body weight in a day, much like the little bird you resembled. Fortunately you weren’t a pure carnivore and the peach pie was wonderfully nostalgic.

“Well, cher,” you said while stabbing a forkful of greens, “what’s this proposition?”

Husk swallowed, wiped his lips, and leveled a golden stare at you and Alastor. “I’d like to hire you of course,” he replied, expectedly. “I don’t have a headliner here yet and watching you made me realize how much this place needs one.” He sipped his wine. “So what do you say to a couple shows a week? I’ll give top billing to an Overlord, especially with pipes like yours.”

You smirked and raised your glass in admiration. Most assumed that Alastor was the only one with power in your relationship. Despite there being multiple female Overlords, once they found out you were married they acted as if you were little more than your husband’s hanger-on. While that granted you a number of opportunities (and demons chained to you with deals) you appreciated any that had a better grasp on your marital dynamic.

“What kind of compensation are we looking at? I don’t sing for free, cher.” Not even tonight had been free; Carmilla had paid your rate. There was one being in all existence that got to hear you for free.

Husk immediately named a figure. A gambler he might be, but he was a businessman too. He gave a number higher than your usual fee. Not high enough to make him seem desperate, but enough that he respected your talent and to entice from other engagements. “Obviously any tips are yours and you both will get perks of casino employees.” Evidently he noticed your shared enjoyment of the food and drink and wanted to sweeten the deal by including Alastor.

You pretended to mull it over while chewing your prime rib. “Quite the generous offer, ma petite chat. Why not, say three nights a week?” Husk readily agreed verbally. Neither of you moved to shake hands or sign papers; you could never be too careful with Overlords, especially when you were one.

The three of you chatted lightly as you ate. Alastor and you had experience with the old guard while Husk knew a lot of the young bucks. Neither side was about to give away more than the minimum information, but you got the impression he could be a decent ally.

Or pawn.

After the meal Husk asked you for a dance. You readily agreed, looking forward to seeing how he was on his feet. Not to mention a dance partner your size would be a nice change. He wasn’t as good as Alastor (who was?) but he was quite good. He seemed surprised by a couple maneuvers that incorporated your wings, evidently he hadn’t experimented much with his.

He actually got three songs with you before thanking you and heading back to the card tables. You were just feeling warmed up and went to retrieve your husband. Only to be intercepted by none other than Vox.

“Hey there sweetheart. How about you let me show you moves?” He gave you a grin and moved to take your hand in his.

You raked him up and down with your eyes. “Oh Vox, I’ve seen all your moves. They’re not impressive.” You pinched his wandering hand between two of your talons, making sure to draw pinpricks of blood before releasing him. “Allons’y cher, best you find a partner who can slow down for you.” Alastor had arrived at your side and added, “My darling wife makes an excellent point, although I’m not sure there’s anyone who can. Better luck next time ol’ pal!”

Without further ado he swept you onto the dance floor. He gleefully kept you dancing the majority of the night. You changed up partners a couple times, him with Rosie and you with Husk. At the end of the last song of the night, a slow dance, he lifted you into a bridal carry. Your wings cupped around his shoulders as he swayed with you.

Back at home, he and you exchanged notes on the evening while going through your nightly routines. “Cher, are you certain you don’t want me to deal with Vox?” he offered yet again.

“I can handle him darling. It seems I’ll need to be more direct however. More importantly, what do you think of my new employer?”

“Hmm.” His staticky hum filled the room as he climbed under the bedcovers. “An interesting fellow, we’ll need to see how he does. And you being there so often will give us plenty of opportunities,” he chuckled darkly.

You matched his laugh. As you settled next to his lean form you replied, “Agreed. This should be entertaining.”

A/N: part two may take a couple days, I’m finding pre-deal Husk’s voice hard to pin down. I hope you all like my head canon for his stronger abilities. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future Shrike snippets, she’s just fun to write. 💜🤍🩶🖤

@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3 @bengewatch

#hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hazbin alastor #asexual alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin husk #fanfiction #asexual reader #asexual #ace representation #acespec

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starmanskywalker · 1 year

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possession · anakin skywalker x f!reader

hello there, @snippy-tano! i tried to do something different here, still respecting the core of your prompt and i wholeheartedly hope you enjoy this one, dear!

synopsis: you broke free from a cult a while ago. your leader - and ex-lover - wants you back.

⚠️ the jedi temple in this fic is a literal cult. ⚠️ this is a modern, no powers!au fic set in the 70s bc i’ve always wanted to write something set in that decade. even though this is very much a dubcon work, i still feel like it deserves the dead dove do not eat tag, as cults are a delicate subject and there’s a scene featuring a very inebriated reader and a very sexually eager cult leader!anakin. huge, blaring trigger warnings for drug abuse, manipulation, coercion, psychological abuse and many other toxic behaviors cult leaders are known for having. if you're a minor, stay away!

i lowkey think this would also work so well as an obi-wan fic but anakin was also very, very fun to write in this context. feel free to send me prompts involving him or obi anytime you like (i might take a bit long to write but maybe you’ll think it’s worth it!)

word count: 6.599 (shit that’s long!)

When you left the Jedi Temple, you felt like the world as you knew it before turned upside down. To put it in more precise terms, you felt like an unfrozen comic book hero that came back from the realm of the unconscious.

You’ve spent seven years of your life with little contact to the mundane world outside of what Anakin allowed you and the other members of the Temple to see, hear and taste. Your entire existence revolved around him and his needs - after all, Anakin Skywalker was The Chosen One. The Force itself, that mysterious energy field that binds the galaxy and all members of the Jedi Temple together in its arduous mission to bring peace, equality and compassion to an increasingly unfair, unequal and war-torn world, chose him to lead you. So how could you say no to such a noble mission?

And what a mission that was. Seeing yourself in a mirror after all you’ve been through without the rose-colored glasses sponsored by Anakin’s constant and almost mantra-esque praise to you was quite something.

Your body was begging for rest in every possible way - your hair had stopped growing, giant dark circles had formed under your eyes and you didn't even have time to eat properly among so many tasks that were assigned to you on a daily basis, resulting in a drastic change on how you looked. During your time under Anakin’s watch, you were PR, secretary, cook, coordinator, supervisor, presenter, confidant, administrator and one of his many lovers; the amount of titles growing every day while no kind of worldly remuneration appeared as a reward.

Thinking about Anakin still stirred so many difficult and confusing feelings inside you. He supposedly loved you more than anything else in the world, yet still brought so many other women to his bed. You were his and only his, yet your body was often the bargaining chip he offered in some of his treasured, nefarious deals with politicians, bankers and other powerful men like him, which you accepted gracefully to please him. And Lord, how you yearned to please him in any and every way you could. This feeling was the only one you were able to discern clearly out of so many that disappeared in the mental fog of overwork.

He was beautiful, even more dashing when his attention was directed entirely to you. His compliments meant more, his touches were more eager, his smiles wider when you did everything you could for his cause.

There were days you only thought about the good aspects of your past life - and there were days the only memories that pierced your mind were the bad ones. Yet it’s kinda funny how almost a year later after you left he is still the center of all these thoughts.

Even if your current life is stable, calm and fairly easy. Even if your current partner is an angel who does treat you like they indeed love you. Even if you made them a promise you would never, ever look back.

Anakin, as always, makes things way harder than they really need to be.

The weight of loving Anakin and his community became too heavy to bear for you and your partner around the same time, for widely different reasons that coincided with a period of growing closeness between you. The fact that what drew you to your current significant other was precisely how much they reminded you of Anakin made you worry about the future you were building together from the start, yet Anakin was an addiction you always knew you wouldn’t break free from easily.

(Better to wean off in gradually smaller doses than to quit cold turkey.)

Another thing you always knew was that your partner would adapt to this new life much easier than you did, as they weren't as loyal to the cause as you were. They found new friends that also became your friends, yet at dinners and parties you always felt a little more out of place than them. Your jokes didn’t quite land, you were never the funniest or smartest on the table, not even for a minute, despite how hard they always tried to make you feel included. It’s always been like that for you, really, except for the time you were there.

With Anakin. By his side.

The feeling of belonging somewhere, especially when accompanied (or led) by a beautiful, well-spoken and ambitious man is a hell of a drug. A drug strong enough to numb the rage within you brought by the memories of the alienation and paranoia spiral he instilled in you constantly. The memories of the countless sleepless nights you’ve spent dealing with Anakin’s coke-fueled persecution complex. The unspeakable things he had you do to prove you were by his side and not against him and the cause.

A drug strong enough to make you accept a specific invitation.

At the beginning of a certain day, a stranger bumped into you while you walked into the street and left a piece of paper in your coat’s pocket. Classic Temple method of sending a message. However, instead of the usual threats and condemnations for leaving the community, you find something else entirely new.

Anakin wanted to speak to you. Alone.

You’d go just to get some much needed closure for what you went through by his side. Just that. Close this chapter of your life once and for all. After all, what harm could a simple conversation do?

You felt horrified that you still found yourself wondering what he’d think of you now; deep down you were afraid of him giving up on you entirely even though you truly didn’t want to be part of his mess anymore. Yet not having a door open to his path anymore frightened you to your core because even with its hundred million flaws, you still saw the Temple as a place you belonged in.

You feared that feeling in itself. Every decision it made you take. All the euphoria it still, regrettably and shamefully, brings you.

Your partner notices you growing more silent by the day as the calendar approaches the fateful date. Your mind was in a complete state of turmoil. You left the Temple months ago, determined to start a new life for yourself, one free from the darkness that had consumed you before. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the memories of what had transpired between you and Anakin, or the longing you felt for the leader who had shown you for the first time, even if in his own twisted way, what it was like to have an entire community to go back to, one that appreciated you.

You feel a familiar flutter in your stomach, a mix of anticipation and fear that you couldn't ignore every time you think a little too much about Anakin's intense gaze and commanding presence. What would he say when he saw you? Would he be angry at you for leaving, or would he welcome you back with open arms? And more importantly, why would you even want to be welcomed back?

As you sat across from each other at the dinner table night after night, your partner couldn't help but notice the faraway look in your eyes. You seemed to be lost in thought most of the time, and your change in behavior coincided with the growing feeling you shared that you were being spied on by Temple’s members everywhere you went. Your partner, more than anyone else, knew what the Temple meant to you, and that leaving it behind had been a difficult and painful process for you both, but they couldn't help but feel frustrated that they couldn't seem to reach you.

And, dreadfully, that they know the reason why.

August 31st, 1979

As you drove to the address indicated in the now crumpled piece of paper, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous, reprehensible excitement building within you. It had been so long since you had felt this kind of intensity, this kind of connection to something greater than yourself. The memories of your time in the cult - your partner made sure to repeat this word to you as often as they could - flooded back to you, and you felt a sense of longing and belonging that you hadn't felt in a very long time.

But beneath the surface of your excitement, there was also a deep sense of fear and trepidation. You knew what Anakin was capable of, how he could push you to your limits and beyond. You remembered all the pain and all the humiliation, the sense of being stripped down to your very core. But even as these memories surfaced, you couldn't help but feel drawn to the system who had once held such power over you. You knew that what you were doing was dangerous, that you were walking a fine line between ecstasy and the destruction of everything you’ve built away from his grasp. But as you approach the place where you’ll meet him, you feel a sense of inevitability wash over you. You were in too deep, and there was no turning back now.

The few Temple members always present by Anakin’s side - you know them too well, after all, most of them also shared the same bed you slept on most nights - all welcome you with a disarming kindness that the outside world and its people just can’t match, even with the many hurtful words that were exchanged when you and your partner left. The outside world could never match such selflessness and forgiveness. This realization breaks your heart so strongly you swear you can feel it physically. Did I do wrong by leaving? Is it too late to have it all back? Why am I questioning myself over my safe, sane, final choice?

Padmé, Sabé, Ahsoka, they’re all wide smiles, lighthearted jokes and they exude a strong feeling of happiness for having you, even if for a short while, around them again. Despite an initial distrust from your part that manifested itself through curt words, you eventually engage in lively chatter with the girls like nothing between you ever changed. You talk about everything and nothing at the same time as you all tried to avoid the elephant in the room: the reason you were there.

Your smile falters when Padmé hands you a white, delicate, flimsy gown that leaves you feeling way more exposed than you’ve ever been since you left. She notices your discomfort and places a hand on your shoulder. “This is all about healing. We’re so happy you’re back.”

This specific dress is only used by women who go through The Rebirth. A private ceremony between the Temple’s leader and a follower that promises to bring the follower closer to the divine.

Despite how close you were to Anakin, you were never invited to a ritual of his yourself, you just heard of them. He always told you you didn’t need it and you knew better than to probe him about it. It’s funny how the opportunity appeared only after you left his circle.

All you knew was that the Temple’s rituals, usually aimed at the unruly, alternated through a range of activities and experiences intended to be intense, transformative, and meaningful; perfectly crafted to reach people Anakin couldn’t solely reach through words or promises. These imperfect followers would afterwards appear completely different after their closer encounters to the Force. Some left the Temple, some stayed. But they were all similarly profoundly changed: some women disappeared, some women started to believe in miracles, some became part of his inner circle.

“I’m… I’m just here to talk t--”

“And that’s all you’ll do, if that’s what you want. But keep in mind it's not every day that you’ll get to be a part of something like this.”

You begrudgingly nod, forcing yourself to smile again. “Okay.”

“You trust me?”

“I do.”

“I’ll tell him you’re here. Could you please change your clothes while I go up there? Remember we need you to be as comfortable as possible, so please don’t wear anything underneath the dress.”

“Okay.”

You close your eyes as you feel your stomach dropping. You take a few deep breaths.

You were just reminded of what you didn’t miss about the Temple.

Ahsoka and Sabé promptly offer to help you in changing clothes, which you accept. A few minutes later, Padmé returns with a kind expression on her face, extending a hand towards you. “Master Skywalker is waiting for you.”

You take her hand and follow her through the series of steps. You felt your heart racing as you were led deeper into the building. You knew that you’d been tricked, but now it was too late to turn back. You could feel the intensity of the ritual building around you, and you knew that you were in for something far more riskier than you had bargained for.

You finally arrive at the door and, surprisingly, Padmé gives you a warm hug before leaving. Some minutes pass, no sign of anything or anyone. Were you supposed to knock or something…?

Before you could answer that question to yourself, Anakin opens the door and the oxygen is ripped out of your lungs in a way you couldn’t anticipate. You’re like a fish out of water; you can hardly believe your eyes. There he is, the one person you thought you'd never see again, standing before you.

Anakin's bathed by the muted light of candles in a sight that could be painted by the Force itself. He’s shirtless, wearing only sweatpants, his golden skin and defined physique bared for you to see. He moves some rebellious strands away from his eyes to see you more clearly.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you struggle to catch your breath at the sight of him. The room is too hot, seeing him again is too overwhelming. You want to leave, to get as far away from this place as possible. But before you can make your way back, Anakin holds your arm, his voice calm and reassuring. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

You shake your head, unable to form words.

"Come in," he says, taking you inside gently. “No need to be scared.”

As he envelops you in his arms and closes the door, you are immediately struck by the religious imagery that surrounds you. There are symbols and icons everywhere, each one imbued with its own powerful meaning. The space feels simultaneously cozy and imposing, the perfect balance between comfort and awe.

Your eyes drift across the room, taking in the details. There are candles burning in every corner, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air is thick with incense, a heady mix of spice and smoke. In the center of the room, there is an altar, adorned with offerings and gifts.

He leads you to a quiet corner of the room. There, he holds you close, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance.

"I can’t believe you came, little bird," he says. "I’ve missed you.”

You can feel the strength of his arms around you, the familiar scent of his skin. As he pulls away and looks into your eyes, you can see a mixture of emotions playing across his face. You're not sure what he's thinking, but you sure can sense the power he still holds over you, especially when he calls you by that pet name. Despite your best intentions, you know that being in his presence again will be a test of your willpower and resolve. It’s already being one, to be honest.

As you struggle to calm down from your panic attack, Anakin continues to hold you close and stroke your hair. You feel his gentle touch and the steady rhythm of his breath, and it begins to soothe you. You hate the fact that it’s soothing you.

He speaks to you softly, using words you can barely hear as you focus on slowing your breathing. "You're safe here," he says, "You're with me again, and everything will be okay."

You look up at him, trying to speak, but your voice is still caught in your throat. He nods, understanding, and simply holds you a little tighter.

As he continues to speak in soothing tones, you try to remind yourself that his words are simply a means to an end, a way to control you once again. Your mind races as you struggle to push away the memories of what he's done to you in the past. But despite your attempts to resist, you can't deny the feeling of safety that washes over you in his embrace.

You know that you shouldn't give in to his words, that you should fight back and leave this place. But deep down, a part of you yearns for the familiar comfort of the Temple, of him. The part of you that craves his attention, his approval, his touch. Who can’t get enough of it.

In that moment, you realize that you're falling prey to him all over again, despite everything you've been through. You feel a deep sense of shame and disgust at yourself, but it's drowned out by the overwhelming desire to be near him once more. Even if for a while.

That makes it even harder for you to speak. Your voice seems to have been swallowed up by the overwhelming emotions churning inside of you. You used to be so confident and outspoken while you were under his wing, but now you feel like a mere shadow of yourself, unsure of what to say or how to act. You hate how vulnerable you feel in his presence, how powerless you are against the pull he has over you. So you just stare, unable to do much else.

Anakin briefly lets go of you to gently touch your hand. He looks at you intently, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. "I understand how overwhelming this is for you, but I promise you you're safe with me. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to.”

“Why did you want to speak to me?” You protest, your voice cracking as you force the words out of you, almost as a way of rebelling against his guidance. You pull away and distance yourself from him.

Skywalker looks at you with a solemn expression, searching your face. "I called you here because I want to offer you a chance at redemption," he says, his voice steady and calm. "I know you've been struggling with feelings of inadequacy since you left us. I just want to help you find your way back to the right path."

He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in. “You were always one of my most faithful Knights," he continues. "I know you still have that spark inside of you. The spark that made you believe in me, that made you want to devote yourself to this. I want to help you rekindle that spark.”

You feel a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you as you listen to his words. Part of you wants to believe him, to trust that he has your best interests at heart. But another part of you is wary, remembering that the only reason he knows that, literally, is because he’s been ordering people to follow you.

“I don't know if I can trust you,” you manage to say, your voice shaking slightly.

Anakin’s expression softens, and he takes a step closer to you. "I understand why you might feel that way," he says. "But I want to assure you that I have no intention of hurting you. I want to help you heal, to help you find peace and purpose in your life. All you have to do is trust me. I promise that I'll be there for you every step of the way."

“Even if I don’t stay?”

You notice a flash of desperation in his eyes, which he tries to conceal. “We have something for you much more powerful than what your current life is offering you. And I think you know that, too.”

“I left for a reason.”

“And I can give you many others to come back. Your new life is just an illusion, a temporary fix to a problem that will only grow worse.” As he speaks to you, you feel his words sinking into your mind. He’s a specialist at tearing down the walls you’ve built to protect yourself from his influence, brick by fucking brick.

“I love my partner. That’s… that’s not an illusion.” You answer, not really believing your own words.

“A partner you’ve found here. A partner you’ve chosen to live a life with where you constantly look for things to try to fill the emptiness of not being here.”

You feel a maelstrom of emotions swirling within you, making it difficult to discern which way is up. The memories of the past, the good and the bad, flood your mind, clouding your judgment. You want to believe that you can be free from Anakin and live a normal life, but something inside you is drawn to his words. Something that also reminds you that there’s no such thing as a normal life after this one, after meeting him, after letting him in control for so long.

The thought of giving him another chance both terrifies and excites you, and you feel yet another wave of guilt crashing unto you for even entertaining it. He can tell he put you in a tug-of-war between what you know is right and what you truly want. “I only want what’s best for you. Deep down you know that being here is where you truly belong.”

"I don't know anymore. It's just... it's really not that simple--" You hesitate, noticing how his gaze is morphing into something much less fraternal the moment he notices there’s ground for his persuasiveness to tread on. You step back and start walking in the opposite direction, not noticing how easy you’re making it for him to corner you. He slowly, predatorily follows your steps.

“What's not simple about it? I know we bring you more fulfillment than anything or anyone else in this world.”

“I’m confused, Master!” You yelp, your heart beating fast once again at the looming threat of history repeating itself and at the shock of you instinctively calling him by his title again. You knock over an offering and you cover your mouth while trying not to hyperventilate once more.

“Then let me help you. Come back home and we can work through this together.” Successfully having you where he needed you to be, he moves your hand away from your mouth, almost whispering as he lowers his head to speak closer to your ears. “You just need the right guidance, the right push. And I am here to give that to you.”

“They are so devoted to you. I don't know if I can be like them. What if I change my mind again?”

"Don't worry about them. You're not like anyone else. You're special.” You find yourself getting lost in his words, feeling a sense of comfort that you haven't experienced in such a long time. You know that you shouldn't trust him, that he's just trying to fuck with you, but you can't help the way you're feeling. “I can mold you into the perfect follower, the perfect partner, the perfect lover. You'll be amazed at what we can accomplish together. It’s not like you don’t already know, right?"

In that moment, you're no longer the strong-willed person who left the Temple behind. Instead, you're a vulnerable follower once again, willing to do anything to please your leader.

“I mean it when I say I’ve missed you. You don’t know what you do to me,” he confesses in a raspy, needy tone while his fingers gently move the straps of your dress away from your shoulders, making you shiver. His need for you also tore down some of his own walls. “Couldn’t fucking breathe knowing you were living with someone else.”

“Anakin–” you squeak, breathless as the silky fabric slides easily above your skin and pools at your feet, leaving you bare in front of him like a freshly prepared meal. Vulnerable doesn’t even start to define how afraid, uncertain and exposed you feel right now. Anakin seems to notice things are going at a pace that’s not compatible with how frail your trust in him is, so he does his best to keep his composure and go back on track.

“Lie down for me at the altar, little bird.” He orders, his tone very artificially patient.

Trembling, you do as you're told. The marble is cold against your skin and you flinch at the touch, the heat of the candles balancing your temperature when you finish positioning yourself.

“You were lost, but now you're found. You were blind, but now you see.” He intimately preaches for your ears only, punctuating his command with the softest of caresses on your cheek. Your voice weakly paired with his at the last few words, as you remembered them with a painful familiarity and ease. “You thought you could leave me behind, but you belong to me. You belong to this community and now we will reforge that bond. Would you like that?”

You close your eyes, the certainty of your fate now making place to a strange serenity. “Yes.”

“Good.” He replies, pouring oil in his hands and spreading it between his palms and fingers. “Now relax. You will be enlightened and empowered like never before.” His hands firmly massage your skin in unhurried movements making your stomach flood with butterflies, his touch as inebriating as the whirlwind of thoughts running inside your head. “I sense so much fear flowing through you.”

You moan in response to the smooth sliding of his hands over your tense body. As Anakin applies pressure to your muscles, making them feel looser and more relaxed by the minute, you shiver at the realization of how much you missed being this close to him in such an intimate way. “Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate…”

“Hate… leads to suffering.” You complete, swallowing hard afterwards as if to clean how dirty you felt by falling into this as easily as you did.

“Exactly. Let yourself be at ease. You carry a heavy burden, love, and it's my job to help you lighten that load.” You can feel the purpose of his touch gradually morph into something much more unvirtuous as he palms your abdomen and moves upwards, now fondling both of your breasts exploratorily, basking on how velvety your skin feels after all this time you’ve spent apart.

A flicker of apprehension rushes through your veins as you sluggishly try to move his hands away from you, but instead your limbs just rest atop of his, your relaxed body unable to follow through with any movement that demands more than a few active brain cells. A wave of anger at yourself and at him rolls weakly through your mind, promptly subdued by how blurred the lines between pleasure and shame start to feel on your mind and frame. His soft touch starts driving you a little crazy; after what seems like forever, he finally tweaks your nipples, eliciting a soft whimper out of you.

“Let me take care of you,” he quietly pleads, hopefully having noticed to some degree that you still were trying to resist him in some way. While Anakin continues to knead the soft flesh, his thumb flicking across your nipple until it’s painfully erect, the other slowly goes down your abdomen until it reaches the most sensitive part of you. You sigh, utterly, impossibly resigned to the situation that’s unfolding. Also to let go, at least partially, of the anxiety that’s creepingly festering in your guts. “You deserve to be loved. To be here with me. You deserve everything that’s about to return in your life.”

Your eyes water at his words. It’s not that your partner doesn’t love you or make you feel like you don't deserve love, but it's overwhelming to hear this from Anakin after you loved him like you did (and maddeningly, regretfully, still do). Your partner gave you love, but not much else - and if there's something you learned from your time away from the Temple is that just romantic love isn’t enough when your new life didn't give you other people to rely on, didn’t scratch that persistent fucking itch that never really went away after you left the Temple.

You woke up every day feeling like you were missing something, like there was a hole in your chest that couldn’t be filled. You tried to distract yourself by immersing yourself in a new job, new hobbies, new social life. You went out with people, attended events, participated in activities of leisure, but the ache never really went away. You talked to people, but it all felt surface-level, small talk that went nowhere and meant nothing.

You started to feel like you were going crazy. Why couldn’t you just be satisfied? You have a partner who loves you, a job you enjoy, decent, lively people surrounding you both. You loathed yourself for the fact that the answer always led to the same place and person you prided yourself in leaving. You started to withdraw into yourself, keeping your feelings to yourself, afraid of burdening others with your problems. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful or needy, so you bottled everything up. But it only made things worse.

It made things bad enough that you searched for the only solution that could soothe it all easily. That always had all the answers all the time, regardless of the personal cost they had to you.

Anakin’s grayish eyes stare profoundly into yours for long seconds before he kisses you intensely. You eagerly retribute, his fingers still spreading the growing wetness between your legs in unhurried yet precise circular motions that make you moan unreservedly into his mouth. You can feel the slightest taste of whiskey and that bitter pill he always took on his tongue as a small reminder of everything you’re agreeing on letting take over the control of your life again, yet there's no way in hell you’re letting it go now. As a sign of such commitment, you cling to one of the arms that are stimulating you as if it’s a lifeline, an act that makes him smirk into the kiss and let out an appreciative groan. He’s still careful, though, trying hard not to lean entirely on the familiarity of how your body yearns for him, as this is above all your return back home. He needs to act accordingly.

His movements start to probe your cunt a bit further and after a little while of teasing, he inserts two fingers inside of you, his lips letting go of yours briefly just so he can hear how precious you sound while getting filled by his digits. You comply with his wish, letting your satisfaction echo inside the dimly lit room along with the filthy sound of how ready you are for him. “I’ve missed this so much.” He groans, letting out a shaky breath he shares with you as he feels the heat spreading under your skin, manifesting itself through glittery beads of sweat that start glistening over your figure.

“Me too, Master,” you whimper, a tempestuous river surging through your veins as you angle your hips repeatedly to meet his thrusts. He seems to understand your desperation, and it’s his turn to comply with your request. His thumb moves towards your pulsing clit and starts circling it in sync with the movement of his other fingers, setting your nerves on fire.

Perhaps in order to get even more of you in the matter of sound, he goes back to putting his mouth to good use. You let out a shrill cry of pleasure as his mouth meets the breast he was previously fondling, while he expertly curls his fingers up to rub your G-spot after relentlessly scissoring them inside you. His teeth rake across your nipple and you jolt, arching your back in a desperate attempt to get closer.

He has a look of hunger in his eyes as he stares you down, delighted at the effect he's having on you. "You're doing so well for me, little bird, so fucking wet," The noise that rips from your throat as an answer is halfway between a guttural moan and a desperate whine as your walls spasm and contract around his fingers. "Come for me." He commands in a hiss, resting his glistening forehead against the side of your head as your muscles convulse in staccato.

You can practically feel stars exploding all over your body in wonderful pinpricks of pleasure as he coaxes from you the most intense orgasm you've ever had. You let out incoherent moans and whimpers while he continues fingering you through your high; you're floating in a bubble of submission and he knows he has to help you land gently on the ground. "I'm so proud of you, baby." He praises softly into your ear before ceasing his ministrations and taking the fingers coated in your release to his own tongue, to your hazy astonishment.

“Thank you for that.” You breath, a confession of how much you needed to feel once more what he was capable of doing. He nods affectionately in return before distancing himself from you to wander nearby, and at the corner of your eye you see him pouring a red liquid on a small glass cup. You sigh in a bit of a fucked up pride at seeing how tented his sweatpants are. After he’s done, he comes back and hands it to you.

“Drink.”

You don’t question. You throw your sense of self-preservation out of the window perhaps as some kind of punishment to yourself over coming to him and still trusting him like that regardless of everything you went through. After lifting your torso just enough to be able to drink something without choking, you down the cup’s content in one swift gulp, a pleasant, sweet flavor filling your mouth. Your master strokes your hair fondly with a warm smile on his face, and kisses your forehead before you lie down again. “Now, for the main part of the rebirth, you might feel a slight tingling spread across your body as this potion does its magic. But don’t worry. This is the official beginning of a new life for you.” He instructs, now positioning himself between your legs, which he has no problem at all to part.

Along with the tingling, you begin to feel a sensation of euphoria spreading through your body. Your mind is flooded with intense feelings of pleasure and happiness, and you feel as though you are floating on air.

Everything around you seems brighter and more vibrant than before. You notice the colors of the flowers attached to one of the offerings near you, and the smell of aromatic plants seems more potent - it’s as if a veil has lifted, and you've been given new sight.

As you look at Anakin, who now stands above you revealing what’s hidden below the thick fabric of his pants and positioning his throbbing cock inside your dripping pussy, you find yourself even more drawn to him in a way that you didn’t think was possible. You maniacally reevaluate the entire perception of him in your mind - have you ever truly given him the chance he deserved? You were now sure the things your partner said about him were the unfounded, harmful brainwash. Anakin was the Chosen One! He could do no wrong ever. How could he do wrong if you’re feeling so invincible, so blessed, so in love?

So absurdly, out of your mind wet?

Anakin notices your eagerness, chuckling at how twitchy and desperate you’ve become for him. He mumbles something about how beautiful of a fucktoy you are for him now, how you always have been, and all you can think about is you love the way his mouth moved when he talked. The forward way he set his jaw, making his teeth meet with such delicacy, enunciating every word. You want him to own you, you think before he kisses your sodden mouth and idly strokes himself.

Anakin obliges after a short while, entering you in one swift motion. He lets out a long groan. “Holy shit,” he breathes. You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin when he begins to move, slowly pulling out and in at first. Every sound, every texture, every sensation is amplified to an almost overwhelming degree. You feel surges of energy coursing through your veins every time he reaches spots within you you didn’t even know existed.

His breathing is ragged and his eyes are half closed when you tilt your face up and kiss him sloppily, giving the green light for him to go faster. Your need is urgent, there is no possibility for precision. You wanted to spread the exquisite poison that he had given you. “I love you,” you yelp, “I'm madly in love with you.”

“My little bird,” he heaves, heavy breath syncing up with yours as he moves deliciously inside of you at a growingly unforgiving pace. Anakin lowers his head so his lips can hover over your ear and beckon you with an unholy invitation. “If you really mean it, come back home. Tonight.”

“Fuck. I don’t know if I can--” you whine, your hands palming his chest aimlessly as he fucks you to the moon and back, the loud sound of skin against skin driving you both insane. He’s bestowing upon you a blessing no one ever could, each thrust unceremoniously ripping yelp to pathetic yelp from your throat along with every remaining logical thought inside your head. “Fuck!”

“Of course you fucking know. You’ll always be welcome back home.” he murmurs against your neck in between kisses and bruising nips. ”Come back to me and you can have this everyday. Nothing needs to be the same.” A strong jolt of pleasure rocks you as his hand creeps down your inner thigh to masturbate you while you move against him for more sensation. A long, low moan vibrates in your chest. He shushes you with another deep kiss as your hips buck from the maddening pressure.

Very amused at how drenched you were, how you mewled at his every touch, he manipulates you with teasing circles until it was too much. You dissolve into pleasure so intensely you can barely register the exact moment you soak him as well in your juices, milking him for all that is worth in the way. He doesn’t take long to follow, his hips stuttering as he empties himself inside you in thick spurts that make you feel impressively full. You keep clenching around him, not willing to let him go, a wide smile on his face at his achievement and at the work of art he crafted so masterfully. He’s genuinely fucking brilliant at this.

“Nothing needs to be the same.” You repeat in a drunken stupor, moving hair strands from your sweaty face as you smile back to him, framed perfectly like yet another offering in his marble altar.

Perhaps his most prized one.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #star wars smut #reader insert #star wars fanfiction

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kaminokatie · 7 months

Text

Feelings || Kylo Ren

Synopsis - After first meeting you, Kylo Ren can't get you out of his mind. After the First Order Ball, Kylo takes you back to your quarters.

Warnings -NSFW.

Word Count - 3.1k.

[Caffeinate Me]

You were General Hux’s personal assistant, you had been for the last four months now. He had decided that he needed some help with paperwork and had elected you for the role. Your duties stemmed far from paperwork though; you helped plan battles and all sorts. You were currently bent over Hux’s office table, pointing at a map of the galaxy when the door had opened behind you. You stood up and straightened your back, looking at the intruder.

“Am I interrupting something?” Came the modulated voice of Kylo Ren from underneath his mask.

You gulped and shook your head. “Not at all, Mr Ren.” Despite knowing who he was, this was your first time meeting the infamous force user.

Kylo’s head snapped in Hux’s direction as he cleared his throat. “The Supreme Leader wishes to see you, General Hux.”

“He does?” Hux asked. A speck of fear shone in his eyes, but he gulped and nodded. “Of course.” He said his goodbyes quickly before exiting the room, leaving you alone with Kylo Ren.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you as you rolled up the map of the galaxy and placed it underneath your arm. You were about to excuse yourself when Kylo spoke. “What’s your name?”

You looked startled for a second, looking around the room to make sure he was definitely talking to you. “My name is Y/N L/N,” you replied, trying to sound confident in yourself.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” he mused, walking further into the room. “What is it you do?”

“I’m General Hux’s personal assistant,” you responded. “I help do paperwork and also go as far as planning some of the battles.”

Kylo hummed. “That will be why I haven’t seen you around at all then. Hux must be keeping you all to himself.” You couldn’t help but blush at his statement pondering, for what reason you weren’t sure. There was more silence as you continued to clear up your things from the desk. “How long have you been working with the General?” He asked, walking up to you slowly. His lightsaber was swinging by his side with every step he took and you couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated by his large presence.

“A few months,” you looked over your shoulder at his cracked mask. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr Ren?” You asked suddenly once your things were cleared away.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t believe there is.”

You nodded in response. “Well if that’s the case I shall head out and get to doing some paperwork.”

“Of course,” Kylo replied. He watched as you walked out of the room carrying your things by your side. He knew that his mind would be plagued by you for weeks to come.

Since that day Kylo had been seeing you everywhere. If Hux was around then so were you, by his side. Tonight was the night of the ‘First Order Ball’. This was a simple yet elegant ball put together by General Hux and yourself for all the members of the First Order to celebrate the most recent successes across the galaxy. Kylo had begrudgingly agreed to attend - to show his mask for a while before leaving. Although this was a formal event, Kylo wore his usual attire; a mask to cover his face and completely covered from head to toe in all black. As soon as he stepped into the ship’s main room, his eyes landed on your form. You were tucked away in the corner, of course with General Hux by your side, chatting with colleagues and sipping on your alcoholic beverage. Your elegant black dress, paired with black flats, flattered your frame perfectly and Kylo felt his mouth run dry at the sight. Kylo felt his eyebrow raise underneath his mask as General Hux’s arm wrapped around your waist. Were you two a couple or something? He didn’t even know why he cared so much, but he did.

Kylo felt a lump form in his throat as he found himself walking over to you, his feet seemingly moving on their own. His presence was noticed by most as he approached you and your group of colleagues and as soon as Hux realised he was there, he retracted his arm from around your waist and stood to attention.

“Good evening Mr Ren,” you said, a polite smile gracing your lips.

Kylo felt his heart skip a beat as you addressed him. “It’s nice to see you. Y/N, was it?” He asked. Of course he remembered your name, he just wanted to act ‘cool’.

“That’s right,” you grinned with a nod. “It’s nice to see you too, Sir.”

“Ren,” Hux said sternly, his eyes boring into the masked man’s frame. “I didn’t expect you to show up.”

Kylo looked at you and smiled underneath the mask before responding, “wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You blushed at his words and looked down at your feet before sipping at your drink once more. The night continued with laughter, dancing and of course, drinking. You could feel the alcohol coursing through your veins as the night went on, your vision becoming more and more blurry with each drink you downed. Kylo stood by your side, watching you without saying a word. He was just enjoying being in your presence. As the night came winding down, more and more people were leaving the ball to go to bed. Eventually it was just you, Hux and Kylo standing in the large empty room.

“I’d say that was a success,” you slurred, placing down your last glass of wine on a table.

“A success indeed,” Hux replied. “Are you feeling okay Y/N? You’ve had quite a lot to drink.”

You threw your hands in the air and grinned. “I feel fantastic.”

Kylo couldn’t help but smile underneath his mask at your drunken silliness but Hux was unbothered. “You should really go to bed,” Hux said sternly. “We still have a job to do tomorrow. Come, I’ll take you to your room.”

Kylo placed a menacing hand on Hux’s shoulder to stop him from grabbing your arm. “I’ll take her,” his modulated voice came. “I’m heading back to my quarters anyway.”

Hux pursed his lips but nodded. “Fine.”

“Come Y/N,” Kylo said, holding out a gloved hand to you. You continued to grin and clumsily took his hand, skipping out of the room. Hux watched with disdain as you dragged Kylo out of the room, leading him to your quarters.

“Did you have fun tonight?” You eventually asked Kylo as you made your way down the halls.

“It was… tolerable,” Kylo replied, his eyes glued to your form as you continued to skip down the halls. Your hand was still firmly grasped in his. “I enjoyed it more than I thought I would if I’m being honest.”

You smiled widely. “I’m glad.” The rest of the walk, or in your case skipping, was done in silence. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as you reached your quarters. You squeezed Kylo’s hand before letting go and pressing your back against your bedroom door. “This is me.” Kylo hesitated for a moment, but you just smiled at him and whispered in a seductive voice, “would you like to come in?”

Kylo was slightly taken back by your sudden forwardness and his eyes widened. Despite this, he still felt himself nod his head in agreement. You opened the door to your room and stumbled in, Kylo following closely behind. Once you were both in your quarters, you closed the door with your foot and stumbled further into the room. Kylo’s eyes followed your form as you began to unzip your dress. His mouth ran dry as he watched your bare back come into his view as your dress slipped down onto the floor. You looked over your shoulder at him and smirked, stepping out of your dress that was now pooled at your ankles. “What are you doing?” Kylo asked, trying his hardest not to stutter.

“Getting undressed,” you slurred. You kept your back to Kylo as you picked your dress up off the floor and threw it in the washing basket in the corner of your room. His eyes stared at the plump of your ass through your lace underwear as you bent over and he felt his cock harden at the sight. Kylo was so far in a trance he hadn’t noticed you had turned around and were staring at him with folded arms covering your bare breasts. “See something you like?” You asked cockily, swaying from side to side.

Kylo’s hands gripped into fists by his side as he fought off the thoughts in his mind. You were drunk, so drunk, and he was sober. He couldn’t do this, but by all the God’s in the world did he want to. Ever since he first met you, Kylo had been unable to get you out of his mind and now you were standing in front of him, almost completely naked, clearly putting the moves on him. “You’re drunk,” he finally spoke up.

“So?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. Your arms dropped to your sides revealing your perfect tits and Kylo felt his resolve break. He was nothing but a weak man in a mask. “I’m not a force user, but I sense that you want me,” you whispered seductively as you walked up to him. You placed your hands on his shoulders and stood on your tiptoes to whisper where his ear would be had he not had the mask on. “I want you too.”

Almost immediately, Kylo pushed you onto the large bed behind you. You fell backwards with an ‘oof’ leaving your lips as you stared up at him with wide eyes. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he growled, climbing on top of you. You could feel his hardened cock beneath his trousers push against your leg and you let out a soft whine at the feeling. Kylo let his hands roam around your body, stopping at your breasts as he began to knead them desperately. “Since I first met you all those weeks ago, I’ve been unable to get you out of my fucking mind.” You said nothing but whimpers as his gloved hands played with your nipples, forcing them to pucker up. “Your body is so beautiful.” He was enjoying playing with your tits as if they were toys, but his painfully hard cock was begging for some sort of relief. Kylo grinded himself against your thighs, soft gasps leaving his lips and coming through the modulator like music to your ears. You felt yourself beginning to sober up, desperate for more.

“Touch me,” you whimpered.

“I am,” Kylo replied, his hands still playing with your breasts and nipples.

“Not there.”

“Then where?”

“Here,” you whispered, grabbing his hands and leading them down to your clothed cunt. Kylo sucked in a breath as he touched the lace of your underwear, fingers dancing under the waistband. You stared into the eyeholes of his mask, knowing he was staring back at you as he slipped a finger inside of you. You couldn’t help but let out a soft little moan and bite your lip as he began his movements inside of you. With a few more thrusts he inserted a second finger into you, stretching you open deliciously. “Mr Ren,” you whimpered out.

“Call me Kylo,” he replied, biting his own lip as he stared at you. The faces you were making were pushing him over the edge. Kylo needed to be inside of you. He withdrew his fingers from you and fumbled with the belt of his cloak before letting it drop to the floor. You could see the outline of his muscles through his tight clothing and you truly realised how big he actually was. As you stared at him, mouth hung open, Kylo took off the rest of his clothes until he was completely naked: cock standing to attention. He was leaking pre-cum already.

He went to take off his mask but you stopped him in his tracks, “don’t,” you whispered. “I don’t want to see who I’m fucking just yet…”

Kylo tilted his head to the side in confusion but nodded. “As you wish.”

He climbed on top of you, lining himself up with your entrance. Without warning, Kylo slowly pushed inside of you inch by inch, your eyes widening as he bottomed out inside of you. He went to move but you shook your head, “give me a second,” you whimpered. Kylo nodded and kept himself still for a little while longer, allowing you to adjust to his large length. After a few moments, you finally nodded. “O-Okay, you can move.” Kylo retracted his cock from your sopping cunt before ploughing himself back in, his movements starting off rough already. He couldn’t get enough of your warm wetness enveloping him, his cock already threatening to explode as you clenched around him. Your sweet moans filled the room, head spinning from the alcohol in your body and the pleasure that was filling your senses. It was all too much.

Kylo’s hips thrusted against yours, soft moans leaving his lips with each movement he made. His hands were located on either side of your head, bunching at the sheets below. “You’re so tight,” Kylo groaned, his movements slowing down slightly. You blushed at his words, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his torso closer to yours. Your breasts pushed against his bare chest, bouncing with each painfully hard thrust. “Gods I’ve wanted this from the second I saw you.”

You couldn’t talk. You were being fucked dumb. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, moaning shamelessly as his words hit your ears. “More,” you whimpered out. Kylo happily obliged, his thrusts speeding up once more. He pulled out of you completely before slamming back into you a few times, forcing you to let out a little scream of pleasure. “I’m going to cum!” You cried out, your orgasm bubbling in your gut. Within seconds, you were coming undone on his cock. Gushing over his length as he continued to rock into you.

“Oh fuck,” Kylo gasped, his own release prematurely spilling out of the tip of his cock as your walls fluttered around him. His hips stuttered as he continued to cum deep inside of you, muffled groans coming through his voice modulator. As his hips slowed down to a halt, your breathing became more shallow as you came down from your own high. “I’m sorry.. I-I couldn’t help it,” he whispered. His intimidating demeanour changing to one of a vulnerable man.

“Hey,” you grinned. “It’s okay. It was amazing.” He pulled out of you with a pop and rolled over, laying on his back and seemingly staring at the ceiling. He didn’t respond to you, after all, he was slightly embarrassed. “Can I… See your face now?” You asked shyly.

Kylo sat up, staring in your direction. “Are you sure?” He asked. His heart was beating rapidly both out of nerves and from the activity you had just done. You just nodded. Kylo sighed and lifted his hands up to remove his mask. His face came into your view: he was extremely handsome, more handsome than you ever imagined. Too handsome to be hiding his face under such a mask. His black hair was wavy and was slicked to his face with sweat and his brown eyes avoided your gaze.

“Hey, look at me,” you whispered, using your finger to direct his face to yours. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

“I don’t know,” was all he replied.

“Don’t worry about anything,” you cooed.

He gazed into your eyes and silence fell upon you once more. All that could be heard was both of your breathing echoing off the walls of the room. Eventually, Kylo spoke again. “I probably should have asked you this before but… you and Hux… Are you two together?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you couldn’t help but laugh slightly. You shook your head, “no. No we’re not.”

“You’re very close,” Kylo mumbled. His voice was deep without the modulator, you thought it was music to your ears before, but now it was a symphony.

“I’m his personal assistant, I have to be,” you chuckled.

“Be my personal assistant,” Kylo said quickly and without thinking. He didn’t even need a personal assistant, he just couldn’t bear the thought of you being around Hux more than him.

“I don’t know about that,” you grinned. “I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate very much with you around.” Kylo sighed but nodded his head in understanding. He wanted to attempt to persuade you, but he knew that you wouldn’t budge on the situation. You were comfortable where you were.

You stared at his lips as he thought deeply. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him right now. To seal your night with a passionate kiss, but you didn’t want to intrude. “Do you maybe want to do that again?” Kylo asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

You smiled widely and nodded. “I’d very much like to do this again.”

Kylo smiled weakly at you and moved to dangle his long legs off the edge of the bed. “I should probably get back to my quarters.”

“No!” You said quickly, holding your hand out to his shoulder in an attempt to stop him from moving. “Stay with me tonight. I won’t tell anybody, I promise.”

“You really want me to stay here tonight?” He asked. You just nodded. “I guess I can stay,” he said, suddenly smiling at you.

“Come to sleep with me,” you said, tugging on his arm and pulling him under the covers next to your naked body. Kylo settled in beside you, wrapping his arm around your form. He placed a kiss on your temple as you closed your eyes. You were content in this moment and never wanted it to end.

“I like you alot Y/N,” Kylo muttered as you began to drift off to sleep.

“I like you too Kylo,” you mumbled, half asleep. Within seconds, you were snoring lightly which made Kylo chuckle slightly, being careful not to wake you. He hoped that you wouldn't regret this when you woke up next to him in the morning, that you meant what you said when you told him you wanted to do this again, but only time would tell. For now, Kylo closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep, possibly the best sleep he had had in a long time. Consequences be damned, he liked you and you liked him. Maybe this was the start of something beautiful.

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venerawrites · 27 days

Note

Could you do gaara x fem reader only one bed trope pls pls pls pls ♥️

author's note: this is heavily inspired by the headcanons I wrote about Gaara's ideal partner and how I imagine him being with someone, who is somehow involved in politics. I loved writing this one and I really hope you enjoy! <3

warnings: slightly suggestive? nothing explicit or NSFW;

"I heard that some representatives from Suna are going to arrive today."

"Hope they got lost!", a second voice scoffed, "Desert worms coming here and begging us for help is the last thing we need. They should just burry their head in the sand and stay away from us!"

The words were followed by a choir of laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. With each step the man took, the voices grew fainter and fainter till they completely disappeared. Soon he was surrounded by silence, disrupted occasionally only by the drunken shouts coming from the nearby alleys and the soft music coming from the brothel at the end of the street.

Gaara adjusted the hood of his coat lower into his face, successfully hiding it from the passing by group of young males. For all the years he had been ruling over the Village Hidden by Sand, he never had to conceal his identity when visiting neighbouring lands. Thanks to his peaceful approach and his infamous speech during the Fourth Shinobi War, the young leader managed to build strong alliances with almost all of the Five Great Countries and their leaders.

With the exception of one - Iwagakure.

While he had somewhat friendly relations with the Tsuchikage, the attitude of the locals remained just as cold and hostile as they were before the war. Decades of betrayals and battles have resulted in a deep mistrust between the two villages, and the unwillingness of many to come and work together to fix it. Some believed that any form of union would never be possible, and even if it was, it would take many years to build.

As someone who has experienced change himself, Gaara was firmly opposing this view. Mistakes were made by the leaders in the past from both sides, but that didn't mean they had to bind the new generation to a future of hate and suspicion. So when he first received the invitation by the current leader of Iwagakure to visit the village and discuss the establishment of new trade routes, he had the clear agenda that he would visit only by himself and two members of the Council.

No guards. No warriors. Nothing that can look like a potential threat to the locals and trigger them to act irrationally.

His vision, however, was quickly shattered once he was met near the entrance of the village by a few of the Tsuchikage's guards, who warned him that there had been some civil unrest since the news of the Kazekage's visit spread around and that it is better if he remained incognito for now.

"A Kazekage should not wander the streets all by himself", the sound of your voice made his head whip toward the corner of the nearby building where he could see the outline of your walking silhouette.

"Not here anyway."

You finally made it to the well-lit part of the street where he was standing and he had the chance to take in your appearance. Much to his surprise, you were dressed in your usual white linen dress, held close to your body by a golden belt. The shiny jewelled collar, which you usually wore, was still resting around your neck, while a number of thin bracelets were covering both of your wrists.

"Councillor", he greeted with a light bow of his head, his eyes travelling from your head to your toes, before setting on your own face, "I should say the same about you. Especially given the nature of your attire."

With a tilt of your head, you looked down, one of your hands smoothing the fabric of your dress before you looked at him again with a small smirk on your lips.

"Is it not appropriate?", there was a humorous note in your tone, "I took extra care in choosing the best gowns in my wardrobe for this visit. It would be disappointing if you are finding them... unfit for the purpose."

The man before you loudly gulped, yet his expression remained unchanged. His ability to keep his composure and his face free of any emotion has always teased your curiosity and it was a personal mission of yours to make him crack.

"You are dressed beautifully as always, Councillor", he finally said, his pale eyes dancing across your figure one more time, "But I fear it doesn't do much to hide who you are or what are the purposes of your visit."

A low, playful giggle escaped your lips and you brought your hand in front of your face, successfully hiding the bottom part of it. The innocence in his question entertained you and you allowed yourself a few long seconds of silence before your replied:

"I believe there is a misunderstanding, Kazekage", with these words your clasped both your hands behind your back, before closing the distance between you, "I am not trying to hide."

A few creases appeared on the man's forehead, a sign of his confusion at your answer. He patiently waited for you to elaborate, but was met by nothing but your silence. You stepped to his left, before nodding your head toward the end of the street.

"Perhaps it would be wise for me to escort you to your hotel."

Completely ignoring your offer, Gaara couldn't help but focus on your words from a moment ago.

"The Tsuchikage's guards warned us-"

"They warned YOU", the emphasis on the last word came out sharper than expected. You took a deep breath, before you turned your head back toward him, this time a tight smile plastered on your face.

"I appreciate your concerns, Kazekage, but I believe there are no grounds for them. I have served Iwagakure for many years in the past and I am well familiar with the locals, just like they are with me. There are no doubts in my mind about my safety."

The eyes of the man narrowed in your direction and he stood frozen in his place for a while before he finally decided to follow you. Both of you fell in a comfortable tempo, neither breaking the silence.

Despite you being part of the Suna's Council for over two years now, the red-headed man had learned little about you since he met you for the first time.

Your appointment was unexpected - he was sitting in his office one day when he was called for an urgent meeting with the Elders. With many of the members either unfit to advise because of their age or the injuries they had suffered in the war, there was a great need for new Councillors to fill their positions. Gaara knew the remaining advisors had been researching and debating among themselves for quite a while now about potential proposals, so he was not surprised by the call, but rather by what followed next.

Three of the proposals he already suspected - they were the names of some of the warriors who had contributed the most to the Allied Forces' and who had an excellent record as Sand Shinobi. The young Kazekage was familiar with them all, as all of them had accompanied him during different missions in the past.

The last proposal, however, took him completely by surprise. When your name was brought the first time, he was unsure if he had heard correctly. Not only were you a foreigner, originally from distant lands far south, but you were also not a shinobi. You came from a family of farmers and did not seem to have any qualifications, yet for some reason, the Elders were quite adamant about their choice.

"Appointing someone who is not native to Suna is unheard of", Gaara protested that day, "And I am also quite unsure about her capacity and qualifications. What makes her so special that you want her to be part of the Council so badly?"

His question was answered as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Stepping into his office with the confidence of a warrior and the looks of a goddess, you demanded the attention of those around you. So when you started to explain your proposals for the establishment of new transport links, trade deals, and cultural exchange programs with the neighbouring villages, it was as clear as day to him why the choose exactly you.

Despite his years of experience as a leader of the village, Gaara was not a political strategist. He didn’t understand the art of manipulation and persuasion, instead relying on his honesty and genuine dream to one day see a united world. And while that seemed to work fine during the troubled times of war, the effect of his inspirational speeches was significantly less in times of peace. He never knew what was the cause for that, at least till he saw the ease with which you managed to persuade the whole Council to support your ideas. Including him.

The admiration of your beauty combined with your sharp mind, also came with feelings of uneasiness and suspicion. Despite your young age, you had an impressive history of serving a number of villages as an advisor, all of them which provided excellent recommendations based on your diplomacy. You seemed to have achieved an impressive record as a state politician, even though you lacked any experience in the battlefield.

“Something troubling you, Kazekage?”, your words brought him back to reality and he looked at you, his jaw working while he tried to gather his thoughts.

“Where does your loyalty lie?”

The question fell out of his mouth before he could think of a less direct way to ask what had been weighing on his mind. You froze in place, your eyes moving toward him, slightly narrowing. His expression also changed and his posture became tense, almost as if he had surprised himself by voicing his thoughts out loud. “I don’t believe in loyalty”, you said with an even tone, focusing your attention on the road ahead again, “Only in doing the right thing in the name of the people’s safety and well-being.”

The answer you offered was not one Gaara was satisfied with. His lips twisted in a scowl and he sped up his step, so he could be shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Thinking of others before yourself is a noble way to live", he reached for his hood and slid it down his head, before ruffling his red locks with his fingers. The smell of his cologne suddenly hit you and you took a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to close the distance between you. You must have been pretty distracted, as his next words almost startled you:

"But I am afraid it will not suffice as proof that it is the interest of my people that you are having in mind."

Closing your eyes, you let out a dry chuckle before stopping in your tracks. His lack of trust did not come as a surprise, you knew about it for a long time. What amused you, however, was how long it took for him to say something about it.

Ever since you became Councillor, the young Kazekage always eyed you with a dose of suspicion. His eyes followed your figure's every movement when you were in a room together and while he thought he was secretive about it, you knew he had been trying to dig into old archives about your past and the work you have done for other villages.

You had no right to blame him. He was looking after the safety of his village, after all. In his position, you wouldn't trust a foreigner who was already an advisor to some of his past rivals, too. Yet you find it a bit ironic, considering he was once the biggest threat to the community he is trying to protect today.

"Nothing more to say?", he stopped next to you, his light eyes boring into yours. You offered a small smile, before making a step forward and leaving just a tiny gap between your bodies. Your fingers reached to his chest before adjusting the little strap that held his coat closed. You could feel his breath hitch under your touch and you had to bite your lip in order to prevent the smirk from spreading on your face.

"Oh, I have plenty to say, Kazekage", you said, before tilting your head to the side and lifting your gaze to the flashing sign above your heads, "But sadly time is not on our side. We have arrived at our destination."

Gaara followed your stare, only to find that you were already in front of the hotel where he was arranged to stay. The building looked old and in poor condition but per the request of the Tsuchikage himself, the red-headed man had to stay there for at least a few days till the officials dealt with the threats made by some of the locals.

While he tried not to question the judgment of the Iwagakure's leader, a tight knot of worries started to form in his stomach, once his eyes met the hostile glares of a few men standing near the entrance of the building. You must have noticed it too, as you made sure to stop near the door and wait for him to enter first, your expression hardening.

Once you entered, you were immediately met with the strong smell of smoke mixed with dust. The lighting was so dim, Gaara had to squint his eyes in order to make his way to the reception. There, sitting on a high wooden chair, was an old woman, who looked at her chipped nails with disinterest, her lips sucking a hand-rolled cigarette.

"Good evening! I have a reservation under the name of-"

"We have no rooms", she growled, not even looking at him. The man blinked a few times, clearly taken aback by her attitude, before trying again. He cleared his throat, before pressing his lips into a thin line.

"There is a room already booked-"

"I said we have no rooms", she interrupted him again, spiting the already burning filter out of her mouth and finally turning her attention to him. Her small yellow eyes scanned him up and down before her expression twisted into a disgusted grimace.

"We don't provide shelters to demons, especially if they come from the Sand."

You watched the interaction from a distance and judging by the attitude of Gertri, the woman who had worked the old boring job of a receptionist for years now, she had not noticed your presence yet. Neither had the few shinobi, who had abandoned their game of cards on one of the lobby tables and were now slowly walking toward the front desk, their hands placed on their weapon pouches in case the situation escalated.

The pale eyes of the Kazekage subtly moved around, noting every single one of the people who were approaching. His fingers twitched under his coat, the cork of his small gourd already gone. He clenched his jaw, deciding to give diplomacy one more try, before he strikes.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. Your leader himself has arranged my accommodation here."

"You heard the lady!", one of the male shinobis that have appeared hissed, "There is no misunderstanding! Now go away before we make you!"

The low chuckle that sounded past your lips made everyone turn around and you finally stepped into the low lighting of the lobby lamp, with a small bounce in your step.

"Is that a way to show Iwagakure's hospitality, Gertri?"

The woman narrowed her eyes at you, but eventually lifted her hand and waved it, signalling the shinobi to go back to their original places. With hesitation, they agreed.

"We offer no hospitality to those who wished for our death just a few years ago."

You hummed, dragging your forefinger across the surface of the desk before lifting it and inspecting the heavy amount of dust which you had collected on it.

"Do you remember when this place was about to be shut down?", you asked, lifting one of your brows, "And the Council voted last minute to change its tax laws, so you can keep this... business or whatever you call it."

The more you talked, the deeper the woman's frown became to the point her mouth was twisted way down to her chin. Gaara stood next to you, his fingers still in position to attack any second.

"Our debt to you was paid once we agreed to provide a roof over your head", her angry stare moved to the Suna's leader, a loud exhale passing through her nostrils, "But when it comes to him - there are no free rooms!"

You looked over your shoulders to the young man, noting his tense posture. Finally, with a small nod, you moved away from the desk and started walking toward the stairs.

"Very well then", you said, waiving your hand next to you, "As you have no availability, the Kazekage will stay with me for the night."

"What? You can't just-"

"I can and I will", the fake smile on your face quickly dropped, "If you have any problem with it, I suggest raising a complaint with the Tsuchikage tomorrow. Of course, given he doesn't seek you first after I inform him of the poor service of the Kazekage today."

Not giving any chance for a reply, you turned on your heel and made your way up the stairs. For a few seconds it was all silence behind you, till finally you heard the sound of rushing steps and a large hand wrapped around your wrist.

"What do you think you are doing?", Gaara scolded you, a light blush creeping up his neck, "This is totally inappropriate! Do you even realise the position you are putting us in?"

He looked at you with annoyance and all you could give in response was a slight roll of your eyes before you snatched your hand away. Walking a few more steps up to the second floor, you started walking down the corridor, leaving the angry sand shinobi behind.

"Are you listening to me?"

Letting out a tired sigh, you stopped in front of your door, before finally looking at him.

"Are you more worried about your reputation than your safety?"

The man watched you taking out your keys, before entering the room. He switched his body weight from foot to foot, wondering if he should follow you or go back to the ground floor and somehow attempt to secure himself the room that he was promised.

Hesitantly, he choose the first option.

"I know how to handle myself, Councillor."

Humming under your nose, you started to undo the bracelets from your wrists. Gaara used your distraction to look around the room. It was wide, yet almost bare - there were only one double bed in the middle of it with two nightstands on each side, a small coffee table in one of the corners, and a big old rug, covering the majority of the concrete floor. The walls were grey and cold, making the whole space appear darker than it actually was.

"You can call me by my name. We are going to share a bed, after all. No need for formalities", you joked, putting the last of your jewellery on your nightstand and moving toward him. Stopping just a few steps away, you eyed his crossed arms, before meeting his soft glare.

"You are a great leader, but a poor politician. The majority of people here are not the warriors you were fighting side by side with - they are civilians, who have suffered generations by the conflicts between Iwagakure and Suna. If you think that they are just going to provide you with shelter for the night and let you rest peacefully, I am sad to inform you that you are greatly mistaken."

You turned your back toward him before moving to the other side of the bed. Pulling the strap of your dress down, you exposed your bare shoulder to him and you could hear his feet shuffling, a sign he probably had turned away from you.

"You can either roam the streets of the village by yourself all night, hoping nobody will ambush you, or stay here, rest, and think of a solution tomorrow."

There was silence and you knew he was thinking over his options. The receptionist was unwilling to cooperate and if he went back downstairs, the conflict was bound to escalate. He couldn't roam the village at this point of the night either - the risk of encountering unfriendly locals was too big.

Finally, he sighed, looking around the room to find a spot where he can lay down.

"I... um, I will sleep on the floor."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words. Lifting your legs onto the bed, you threw the blanket over your body, while your hands worked at the pins holding your locks up.

"Or you can come here - there is enough space for both", one of your palms made its way to the covers next to you and patted the space, "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before... Kazekage."

Gaara froze at your words and you could hear him slightly choking on his saliva. Smirking, you looked up, only to find him staring at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

"That was a one-time mistake."

Your brow quirked.

"Okay, two-time mistake."

With an amused smile, you lay down, turning toward the wall instead.

"Goodnight, Kazekage! Rest well."

Maybe it was the low tone you said it with, or the sudden flash of memories he got from the time spent with you, but something made him walk over to the bed and sit down. He removed his cape and started working on his shirt, while he debated internally if he really needed sleep at all. Maybe, he could just stay awake all night and... well, probably try not to overthink the hold you had on him.

It was not right for a man of power like him to be so easily seduced. But as he watched his community flourish as a result of your ideas and charm, he found himself unable to say "no" to anything you suggested. Even when you invited him to share your bed in front of others, who were surely going to spread the "news" of such a political scandal first thing tomorrow.

He finally laid down, his forearm resting at the top of his head, while he stared at the grey ceiling. The rhythmic sound of your breath started to calm him and he closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching up once he felt your body twisting toward him. He mirrored your movement, but did not dare to reach out to you, despite his increasing want to do so. Maybe one day this was going to be more than just a mistake.

cc artwork: Emanuel Dias

#gaara of the sand #sabaku no gaara #gaara x reader #gaara imagine #naruto requests #naruto imagines

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janichroma · 3 months

Text

🎉Q/A Answers!🎉🎉

There's a lot to parse here! Warning that there are some spoilers of current content in here! So please tread carefully!

Q1.) I'm very curious about Death Wings. Do all of them exist in a similar state to Robo-Ren, where their true bodies are asleep and they pilot a mechanical suit, or is there something that differentiates them?

Ren is an exception. He's the only one who pilots a separate body. The others are in their own!

Q2.) Which Rejuv characters would be most likely to start a podcast together?

Adam and Valarie probably have a lot of deep 3 am conversations so with a little help from Saki, those two would def make a podcast. Other highlights are Saki+Erick and maybe Texen by himself because he just talks about how women are objects or something i dunno.

Q3.) Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea? Are you being held hostage?

I deadass thought i was gonna get 10-20 questions at most..... So yeah its a good idea.

Q4.) So, half servants. They’ve been so confusing to me. Until 13.5 I was just under the assumption servants were just infertile lol. So, do half servants like…. Inherit any powers or anything from their servant parent? Like, the ability to teleport and things like that.

Servants cannot reproduce when they're first created/in their generic form, but when they transform into their own person they gain a soul and they are then able to reproduce because they're just like any other person. It's just that their origins are different. Servants can still use their magic, but their children cannot. Although, I bet their children -do- inherit some traits from their Servant parent. Probably like just having above average strength/speed etc. That's not universal, though.

Q5.) How come Tesla doesn't let Amber bring us to the villa after the gym battle now?

Well... When two people love each other very much...

Q6.) Do the executives of Team Xen and most importantly Ren have the green gem somewhere on their body that marks them as members of Team Xen?

I wonder...

Q7.) I know in the past, you said that you haven't seen any correct guesses as to the identity of Madame X. Has that changed since the release of 13.5?

Pretty close, but no cigar.

Q8.) would crescent like yuri/gl

I banish you to the hungry worm dimension.

Q9.) i know that some characters, namely tesla (and maybe jolene?) call themselves "honorary" members of the elite 8. is there any specific reason for that? also can roboren run doom this is important.

There's no specific reason other than it soundin' fancy. Roboren can run tetris so maybe!

Q10.) What are the perks/ benefits of joining Team Xen? ( asking for a friend )

Amazing health care, and amazing investments in your 401k.

Q11.) I wanted to ask, which character has, for you, the most chance to surprise us in future updates? Be it badly or greatly.

i can't answer this because it gives too much implicit information!!! Sorry!!

Q12.) what pokemon teams (or just ace pokemon) would characters you don’t ever battle have? for example, volta, eizen, martin, rune, eden, etc? will we ever fight any of them?

I don't want to answer this either because we will probably have an opportunity to fight -most- of these people here, but for Rune it's already established to be Rapidash (Ace), and Eden would probably have a Blissey somewhere.

Q13.) How close of friends are Amber and Crawli? I wanted to ask since they're both Gym Leaders of Terajuma and around the same age, especially when Tesla and Amber moved to Telia after the incident.

They're not too close. They know of each other, and have spoken, but it's mostly a "friendly landlord" kind of relationship. They only talk when it's necessary... Not that Crawli is a landlord, or has any bearing on Teila.

Q14.) Hihi, what are somethings that have changed from version v12 (and also v13) that you really like/are proud of? And are there things you miss from previous versions, but you had to get rid of for any reasons? (I'm personally absolutely in love with the redone Terajuma stuff and especially Crawli, and also the redone Ryland scenes but that's because I'm biased.)

Terajuma 100%. I LOVE Terajuma now. I used to really despise it, evidently. But I think it's so fun and has a lot of nice moments. Valor Mountain still sucks, though. I have a huge urge to simplify that place, but then i'd have to redo a certain scene later and i dont wanna bc it's already perfect. Suffering from success... As for things I miss from previous versions... I can't think of any right now because I love where we're at rn so I guess I don't miss anything? There are certain scenes like Melia with her long hair flowing, but outside of small instances like that, nah!

Q15.) If in the nightmare school "Jean" was able to manifest flora's explosives from the dreams of GDC's citizens... Where could he have manifested A Gun from??

Probably the police station, tbh.

Q16.) What's your personal favorite part of the game thus far?

Honestly Chapter 2 -> to the end of Terajuma is so much fun to me. Not that the other chapters aren't, but that part is comfy. I also love Renegade Route chapter 0.

Q17.) Now if I'm remembering correctly, you mentioned that Venam was supposed to be just a side character at first. What made you decide to change her role into such a major one? Also how did the Melia/Venam come about?

Yeah so, Beth was actually in Venam's spot if you can believe that. Yes, the same one that sells Moo-Moo Milk. We already had a prominent blonde character and Beth wasn't boring or anything, she just didn't add a fun dynamic with Melia. Although back then the formula was more rebornified. Meaning characters rarely traveled together and they kind of just showed up when they needed to. Now characters are constantly always traveling with you and stuff. Not that the old format is bad, it's just a different take. I brought Venam back because she's Melia's best friend and it felt real weird that she was not involved -at all- compared to her and Ren. Their relationship came about because.. Well, I kinda just knew. Venam was always a lesbian in my head, and Melia is def the character that would love anyone if they gave her the chance to love them. It just felt right?

Q18.) 1) When was Eizen conceptualized? 2) What is one funny story about developing v13.5 that you can share? 3) Were there any pieces of media you took inspiration from while writing Renegade(mainly Central Tower)? 4) Do you have any plans of making more games after Rejuv?

Yall are cheating with the multiple parts!! Anyway, Eizen was conceptualized sometime in v13's development, but he... she.. they... were just a concept at the point. (stick a pin in that) 2.) A funny story? Hm... I honestly can't remember anything rn. Probably just some bug that caused us pain and it was super simple to fix. 3.) To be honest, I didn't take any real inspiration for Renegade. I actually went into doing that route without knowing exactly what I wanted from it. But the pieces sorta fell into place and im in love with it lol. M2 was always going to be a character in the game, it's just that she was never named M2 and was more tragic than unhinged. M2's personality was altered slightly because I wanted Renegade to have SOME sort of a balance, and a partner in crime (sorta) felt appropo. 4.) Yes, I have original games in the works AND plans for at LEAST 1 more fangame after this. I'd like to start from scratch with all the knowledge I have now. Though, it wouldnt be nowhere near as long as Rejuv. I'm talking like 4-5 releases. lol.

Q19.) Wanted to ask how renegade!MC perceives Clear/Kieran, the 3 choices we have to respond to Clear asking us to go see Clear all seemed cold towards her. I guess they aren't a potential new friend group?

They are a means to an end. The MC is not close with Clear or Kieran at all. They barely even talk outside of the instances we've already seen. Maybe that'll change?

Q20.) This has been a matter of contention between some friends of mine and I. How old is Odessa? I'd assumed she was below 18 as she's not taken the throne so she might not be an adult and her dad's in charge until that happens, but they think she's an adult. For something less serious, who in Rejuv's most likely to start a ponzi scheme, and who's most likely to buy in.

Odessa is likely to be around 25-ish. She's a legal adult, and is in line to be Queen of Kristiline, but their family line already holds so little influence and power that Aquis just makes her a figurehead and manages things on his own. Kind of a Cinderella of situation? More similar but not 1:1. To be honest? I figure Aquis hopes Kailani to return one day and assume her duties because he likes her more (Even if he abused her the same way he did Odessa.) As for the ponzi scheme... I feel like Thomas Jr would make one and Texen would fall for it.

Q21.) Who is the hardest character to write consistently?

Honestly? Melia. She's given me the most trouble despite her being so prominent. Im good at it now I think, but before I never knew how to write her because anything I did came with criticism lol, and still does, but now I don't really give a shit. Amber's a close second.

Q22.) When Crescent fell down the cliff, did she get the interceptor contract then was asked to become a storm chaser? The events seemed to have happened close to each other. Curious since the hags serve Variya, so only 1 of the 2 parties could've asked her both, but that wasn't the case.

Yes it was shortly after she fell. To be clear, the sparkle the protags saw was the sparkling of water from the moonlight above. So they knew it was "safe" to push Crescent. She could have died but she had a chance to survive a situation where the alternative meant certain death.

Q23.) Will the Elite 8 even be able to be battled on Renegade? I imagine Karrina would replace Karen if Karen dies on Paragon, and Karrina doesn’t get pushed, but she eats the Deletos on Renegade if you don’t push her in Castle Zygara, and it made me wonder.

The members of the Elite 8 may be battleable, but not in an official league format. That's all I'll say on that.

Q24.) I'm still really curious about emma, things that come up in my mind a lot is the part where she looks to be used by variya to speak to melia during the part where amanda knocks her out, and during pearl route when we see the note signed by someone with the same name- emma. because of this, I've been pretty curious about this disguise thing the space hags gave melia. did they- or variya gave them orders to- pull the appearance from the deceased emma? does this mean ... they're the same person?

The name part is merely a coincidence and acts as foreshadowing. Melia reads the note and is like "Emma...?" and wonders if she would share the same fate as the ones written on the notes, and then lo and behold she has the same condition.

Q25.) This question is regarding Renegade route: Do the 6 years that M2 and our chosen host were lost in that alternate world match up with a version release that is outdated, or is an in-universe timer that we shouldn't overthink that much?

Honestly, that wasnt the reason for 6 years but now I wish it was that's rad as hell. But no the 6 years isn't even 6 years. It's an unspecified amount of time that passes that she perceives as 6. They both couldve been down there for a million years and they wouldnt know. The area they're in is similar to the chasm where it wears down your mind after long exposure. Maybe that's how Melia could take such a bad turn in life. The protags are always optimistic to escape though so they are able to hold onto their mind.

Q26.) #1 spector fan here asking questions about him since he probably won't get much spotlight outside of one quest... what was his life like before taking on the reserve leader role (other than what we already know, like where he lived,) and what are his interests outside of the paranormal, if any? thanks for the opportunity! love this game a lot :^)

Spector is a history buff and loves to do Goth Gf things like take strolls in graveyards at 3 am 🥰🥰. Probably spent most of his time in the District of Hope. He also likes exploring ruins and abandoned buildings. Not limited to Aevium tbh.

Q27.) I know Eizen seems to be a strictly side quest character, but have K/C or the hags ever tried contacting him for recruitment? His research seems too valuable to go unused for them.

Eizen has absolutely no interest in either of those groups. If they even tried to do anything he'd noclip out of the room and fall out of bounds and then die half life 1 style.

Q28.) :3c what are some characters that are trans if i may ask?

Ryland - FTM Party Girl - MTF Alain - NB Aero - NB V - Genderfluid Eden - Genderfluid

Q29.) would angie still possess alice in renegade? :0 super curious about it hihihi

Whatever happened passively in Paragon (Meaning Cera being abandoned, Alice getting possessed), STILL HAPPENS IN RENEGADE, we just don't see it because the trail of events that led to us seeing them in Paragon do not happen. So... in Renegade, that means Alice is still...

Q30.) How did the aftermath scene from defeating the hags on renegade come to be? I'm very curious

i assume you mean the Tera Raid parody? Well, it came up on my playlist on the train and I was feeling chaotic. what if in rejuv but deadly ?

Q31.) who's the shortest character (excluding the younger kids >>)

Probably either Cera, tbh. She's a short lil one. I don't have canon heights for characters outside like an estimation. But in my head Cera tiny.

Q32.) Hello! I would like to ask, Did the interceptor, before the SS Oceana be attacked, have fake memories of a life alongside Nancy? Since Crescent wanted the MC to have a normal life, I always wondered If she created new memories to make this easier And if I can ask another question. What is/was the criteria to someone see the MC appearance correctly? Huey and Lavender saw two different ones, while Aelita saw the correct one(in my case she saw Alain when asked)

Crescent did not create memories for the player. They just started acting weirdly and stopped talking to her. They then started to behave the same way you, the player, does. Believing that what is happening is real and has always been real (Because this is all the information you have right now), so Crescent takes this opportunity to try and let go by giving you a better (but fake!) life. It's why she sorta distances herself a bit (but not too much) so that you could integrate yourself into that delusion. We love being neuro <3.

The criteria is pretty ambiguous intentionally, but for me it has to do with personality and connection. Aelita always sees who you truly are because shes so close with the player + she has envoy shenanigans going on. If you would get along with Alain the most, the player would show themselves as alain etc.

Q33.) Any disclosable reasons why the rift dex now only has 2 remaining entries instead of 3 like in v13?

It's probably just a discrepancy that happened due to shifting over code bases. The number of slots left is not indicative of anything.

Q34.) hello jan!! hope you’re doing well :D is there any more information or random various facts about the androids (clear/kieran/eden) that can be said that ISN’T spoilers? it’s ok if not! i’ve just been curious about them all lately, especially in regards to how eden’s powers with emotional manipulation work.

Nothing too interesting about Clear or Kieran that isn't spoilers and isnt known already, but as for Eden... Eden was eccentric and had a personality thats real close to prince peasley from superstar saga LOL. I feel like Eden would have a catch phrase like "Mon Cherie", and flip their iridiscent hair in mockery. Eden's manipulation was very devastating. You would feel an immeasurable amount of joy when inflicted that you would give over any information because youre... happy to! But it was also very deadly. If exposed to it for too long you become way too happy to the point where you lose the ability to function normally. You'd fall into a happy-apathetic state and collapse and just lay where you fell until you starved or died in some other way. Because you're happy to! Everything in moderation, guys.

Q35.) Hi jan!!! quick question — why do you hate me why did the renegade route do that /real/ question though…. My buddy found some like… older stuff about Eizen in v13’s files. Something about a girl named Ærika?? (Idk if thats even connected but whatever) How did Eizen come to be? What was the process?

Hi remember the pin I stuck earlier? Ok we're unpinning that now. So, Eizen was originally a woman (So happy for his transition), And her name was Ærika. But we already had so many girls in the game and I wanted to create more male characters so then Eizen was born. I'm glad for it too because Eizen is way more interesting than Ærika. Eizen/Ærika came to be when [redacted]. I can't explain his origins quite yet, sorry! But one day you Will Realize.

Q36.) Hi Jan, thanks for the amazing game! In Alamissa, before we get yeeted into the past by Kieran, when Ren gives us sylveon and, um, Nancy’s remains, he mentions that he has stayed (even after breaking off with crescent) with xen for an important reason… but won’t specify. Later, he says the reason is because he wants to help nastasia. But the alamissa convo happened before ren met Anastasia (baby version). Did ren want to help nastasia before he met her past version and learned that she was…

Ren didn't know who she was at that point, but Ren has seen Nastasia in vulnerable points (that we havent seen... yet?). She has discussed with him that shes looking for someone prior to Alamissa, but she was very vague about it, and still is, but she's opened up a lot to Ren over time.

Q37.) This is probably a weirder question but will all of the main leaders, even the ones we battle outside of their gym duties have custom moves? If not, would it be safe to assume the main leaders use the moves of their reserves?

All leaders have custom moves. Reserves use the move the main leader does! They have TM's for these, but they aren't allowed to give them out to winners. At least, at the moment!

Q38.) what was your favorite part of 13.5's development?

Making Renegade Route lmfao. It was so much funnnnnnn. I cant wait for the rest.

Q39.) what’s the EoN experience like for someone going through it? If that’s too spoilery, what was the most surprising part of people’s reactions to .karma content?

You're getting scrubbed. It looks painful, but it's painless... and seamless! You literally cannot process what is going on. As for most surprising, I was surprised people loved M2 so much. I mean, I had a feeling people would like her, but she really took off and that makes me happy bc shes so fun to write.

Q40.) Hi Jan! My question is this: Will Melia and Venam get back together somewhat in the future? Or will they just stay friends? (Paragon route)

Who knows...

----------------------------------------------------------------

An extra question im throwing in here because ive seen a lot of talk around this character.

Q1X.) What inspired M2? M2 was conceptualized to be more of a tragic character, but I felt like Renegade needed some balancing out mood wise, or else it was too much of a drag. M2 was inspired by an insecurity of mine, actually, or I guess less so an insecurity and more of a question a lot of us ask ourselves. What if? What if I did this differently? What if I was born elsewhere? How different would I be? When Covid first started running about and I thought the fate of our lives was about to be cut short potentially, I started thinking about how I lived my life and how much I missed out on certain things. M2 is that. She gets a second chance at life and decides she wants to be everything but Melia because she's already lived that life and it turned out poorly. Hence the name M2. The second version of herself.

A song that inspired me is Immaterial by Sophie (Rest in peace)

2:03 is important

youtube

Now that I have a second chance at life, "I'll be anyone, anything, any shape." I mentioned before that your archetype powers manifests as your deep inner desire, and since M2 wants to be everything she couldn't be, it turns into her creating alternative selves through clones made of light. Another point of inspiration for her forms is actually Barbie of all things. Not the movie, although the movie takes advantage of the same principle, that Barbie can be anything. A doctor, a lawyer, life guard, a government official etc. M2 is everything always and forever, and she's also nothing at all. Which one is the real M2?

#pokemon rejuvenation #Rejuv Q/A #Spoilers!#Youtube

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usernamerenn · 2 years

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I DON’T HATE YOU

pairing: haitani rindou x fem!reader

↳ in which you’re certain that the younger haitani brother hates you, but it’s actually the complete opposite

note: reblogs and comments are always appreciated

If there was one person in Tenjiku who scared you the most, it undoubtedly would have to be Haitani Rindou. While Izana and the other executives in his gang were apathetic toward you at best and overly flirtatious at worst, the younger Haitani made it known that he didn’t like you. Whenever you would visit Izana with some new information regarding the various gangs around Yokohama, Rindou would somehow always be there to greet you with a look of disdain.

Today he appeared to be particularly annoyed with you, as you had noticed him standing next to his brother before pointedly glaring at you the moment you stepped into his line of sight. Acknowledging the two of them with a polite, nervous smile, you did your best to ignore the pretty violet eyes that followed your every move as you hastily proceeded to your meeting with Tenjiku’s leader.

“You should just tell her, Rindou,” Ran amusedly whispered to his brother, causing the younger Haitani to dramatically blush before punching Ran in the arm for teasing him.

After speaking with Izana and securing your usual envelope of money, you were on your way to the front doors of the building when you were unexpectedly stopped by two Tenjiku members. You assumed that they were new, considering how most people were familiar with you and your role as Tenjiku’s trusted informant.

“Why the fuck is there a girl in our base?” the first one remarked incredulously.

“Are you a spy or something?” the second one questioned.

Approaching you with matching looks of suspicion, you had no time to even defend yourself as one of them made an attempt to grab your arm, only to freeze when he saw the hand that was painfully locked around his wrist.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Rindou threatened, his voice sounding terrifying cold.

“She’s with us,” Ran explained with an unimpressed frown. And that simple statement was more than enough to shock the two delinquents into realizing their mistake, as they were soon apologizing to you before running away in a panic.

Watching them leave, you almost didn’t hear Rindou’s question as he quietly asked if you were okay. The expression on his face was one of apparent concern as he scanned your form for injuries, and you had almost believed for an instant that he genuinely cared about you. However, you quickly convinced yourself otherwise, concluding that he was only worried because of his boss’s possible reaction to you getting hurt.

“I’m fine,” you said with a halfhearted smile. “Sorry to be such a bother.”

“You’re not a bother,” he awkwardly reassured you, looking suddenly anxious as he avoided your gaze. “I-i-if you want, I-I could start accompanying you on your visits to meet with Izana?”

“Why?” you immediately retorted, feeling confused and honestly doubtful of Rindou’s uncharacteristically kind proposal to help you. What kind of game was he playing right now? “I thought you hated me?”

“W-what?! I-I don’t hate you! Where the hell did you hear that from?!” he panickingly responded, shooting his brother a flustered glance as the older Haitani broke out into loud, insufferable laughter.

“W-well, you’re always frowning and glaring at me,” you reluctantly clarified. “I-I assumed that it was because you hated me.”

“I-I-I didn’t mean to—t-that was just—fuck!”

Blinking in confusion, you could only stare as Rindou disheartedly stormed off in defeat, a clear and harsh blush painting his features as he hysterically screamed something about your stupid, pretty face and how he had no chance now. You didn’t really know what he had meant by those comments, but you were happy that he wasn’t directing his current anger toward you.

“Eighteen years old, and he can’t even properly talk to his own crush,” Ran melancholically mused. “He really is hopeless.”

With a conspiratorial wink sent in your direction, Ran playfully wished you goodbye before following after his brother, leaving you completely shocked and speechless in response to his confession. This entire time, you had been misunderstanding your relationship with Rindou? He didn’t actually hate you? He liked you? For the first time in your career as an informant, you didn’t know how to deal with this given information.

tokyo revengers taglist: @crown5 @blacksun-judar @chloee0x0 @zuuki @chiaki3nanami @shuujin @somemydayy @shizunxie

#haitani rindou #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou x you #haitani rindou reader insert #haitani rindou imagines #haitani rindou scenarios #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers reader insert #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokrev #tokrev imagines #tokrev scenarios #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you #tokrev reader insert

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theangrycomet-art · 4 months

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Sonic Underground Reprise: Hedgehog Family Tree Hedge

Here- the parents, the aunts, the uncles, the grandpa and grandma's and even some cousins.

Now, are most of these characters relevant to the main plot? No. But if you have followed me for any amount of time you should know of my love of expanding character's family trees.

COMMISSIONS OPENED

Kofi

Family Notes: (this gets kinda long)

Parlouzer Lore (paternal side)

Charlotte was a sailor who split her time exploring and fishing with her crew

she may or may not have been a pirate

Maurice was a skilled carpenter who worked from his home workshop in Port Mobius

he was just a humble, if a bit on the quiet side,

the two met by chance when Charlotte was exploring the area while Maurice was trying to get groceries

instantly charmed with one another, they kept in touch and she made it a point to always come back to see him every chance she could

after about 5 years of this she proposed to him and the two were married the next day

Chuck was born shortly after (honeymoon baby)

he mostly stayed on the mainland with his father while Charlotte continued working on the high seas

Julius was born when Charles was 12, and Pauline Pauli when he was 19

Chuck left for college early at 16, so he wasn’t particularly close with his younger brothers until they were practically adults

Jules ran away when he was 13 to join the circus, completely cutting off contact for nearly 5 years

At 17, he and several other members of the circus (including Argus) were arrested in Casino City after being framed for treason by a rival performance troupe. Due to their age however, the two were given an alternative to jail time: enlistment, which they begrudgingly accepted (this was HIGHLY illegal btw, as both were underage and therefore not qualified to be enlisted)

around 3 years into service, Chuck got wind of the bullshit charges placed on his brother and threatened to raise hell if the two were not brought back home immediately

Jules and Argus were then hired as a part of the Royal guard where they were charged initially with guarding King Max’s son, Crown Prince Nigel

Pauli avoided trouble growing up, having taken more after his father than his lovely, impulsive older brothers

Ihe developed a passion for piloting and decided to start his own delivery business, which would be how he would meet his future wife Bernie

Bernie

Nadim Lore

ditch the royal family part and exchange it for a powerful magic fam

Hatshe is the matriarch of a powerful magic guild, the Rising Sun, though she has retired from any official position

the Rising Sun was formed by Aman-Rapi long ago

Hatshe met Olgilvie when traveling through the Kingdom of Mercia when the then King requested the aid of the Rising Sun’s strangest magician (they had meant to request “strongest” but their had been a slight typo, luckily for them Hatshe was both)

Bastard son of a a duke, Olgilvie was knight renound for his skills with a blade as well as the strings

he was assigned to aide Hatshe in her assignment

the two did not get along initially, as both were headstrong individuals who had their own way of doing things, but eventually became friends, and later lovers

He ran off after her once her assignment had been completed and continued courting her back home

Layla is Aleena’s older sister, as well as the current leader of the Rising Sun

Though she may appear calm, collected, and regal, outside of official appearances she is a very much a dork who is not above a little mischief

she met Terios when the were children during the family’s travels

more specifically, she found his half dead body lie partway out of a river bank

he was taken in to the guild, where he showed strong promise in healing magic

childhood friends-> lovers, slowburn 160k words basically

everyone knew that they liked eachother except themselves

despite some initial mishaps, the guild has been thriving under her leadership

despite Robotnik’s efforts, their guild halls have remained hidden to him, as well as serving a safe havens for those trying to escape his reign

they work loosely with the Resistance, though Layla leaves it up to the individuals to come forwards and offer aid

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ctrlsatoru · 8 months

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HANABI SEASON - CHAPTER ONE

genre: enemies to lovers; roommate au; fluff, angst & smut (future chapters) warnings: none in this chapter pairing: geto suguru x gojo satoru x afab reader word count: 6.2k

a/n: LISTEN this is me refusing to accept the current situation in the manga. i need to put my love for these characters somewhere!!! anyway here’s wonderwall:

❛❛For years, the only thread connecting you both was the living legend known as Gojo Satoru. Fate always seemed to place one of you in the other's absence, but in the aftermath of the night parade of a thousand demons, destiny takes an unexpected turn and your paths are brought together.

Or the one where former terrorist and cult leader Geto Suguru is sentenced to become your roommate, and consequences ensue❜❜

They can’t stop themselves from looking at him.

Curiosity. Lust. Appraisal. Pity.

It's human nature, people wanting to keep pretty, deadly things in their hands. It's written all over the clandestine glances that take him in greedily, dripping with morbid fascination. The most insistent eyes skitter away like spiders caught in the light the moment they find themselves under your scrutiny, ashamed of being caught or irked by what they assume is a display of passionate jealousy.

How mistaken they are.

Though you suppose you two do sell the couple fantasy at first glance, sitting side by side, matching in black; black dress, black suit, black eyes, black hair. His sharp, siren eyes contrasting against your round ones, dusted in the faintest glitter.

An unlikely pair in an unlikely situation, that’s the truth of it. Two people doomed to partake in an unorthodox dynamic. You’ve never even had one conversation. At all. Not since you met, nor since he came to live with you in your apartment.

"And now, it is time to present the award for Innovation in Design. This year's awardee is led by a remarkable group of visionaries, whose work has not only led the transformation of several industries but has also improved the lives of countless individuals.”

For weeks, he’s been a muted shadow roaming your apartment, and you the sole recipient of his unwavering disinterest. The silent treatment irks you more than what you’d anticipated, for reasons you refuse to unpack. You expected domestic warfare, belittling remarks, and even the subtle threat of being poisoned or smothered in your sleep. You were more than ready for it.

Instead, he’s simply looked right through you. No acknowledgment, no reaction to your presence, to anyone or anything. You both share a roof and simultaneously exist on entirely separate planes. The days blur together as you leave for work early and come back late, often staring at the door without knowing whether he’s eaten or had any water. Other than the weekly home visits from Dr. Nakamura, his psychiatrist, his whereabouts are a mystery to you.

Living with him is like having an emo, non-verbal teenager stuck inside a grown man's body as a roommate. So, you decided to react accordingly; by disrupting his streak of isolation and forcing him to come with you to a social function.

It was a desperate, risky measure on your part, and doubts began to creep in when you realized that the "social" aspect involved other people, members of the industry, top dogs from rival companies but most importantly, colleagues you interact with every day, who will undoubtedly have questions about this mysterious man they've never seen before.

But any hesitation dissolved the moment you two arrived at the venue. Looking at him over your shoulder as he made his way through the crowd, you just knew something in him shifted.

It wasn't as if a switch was flipped; rather, it was like a tiny chip had formed on his stony exterior, hinting at the possibility of a larger crack—but he’s still not quite there. Not yet, anyway.

“To receive this prestigious award on behalf of Kaneko Industries, please join me in welcoming Sera Kaneko.”

The room erupts into applause, and your entire table -except for your hostage/date seated on your left- rises from their seats. A radiant but measuredly humble smile steals over your features as your coworkers celebrate, bowing in every conceivable direction and patting each other on the back. Congratulations, you deserve it, you've worked hard. There's a mutual understanding that tonight is the result of an uphill battle, months and months of sleepless nights, time with loved ones sacrificed and many failures and stumbles have paid nicely.

You would gladly stay here and wipe the tears threatening to spill from your favorite senior creative director’s glassy eyes, but duty calls you to the podium. Fingers clutching the fabric of your dress's skirt, you stride across the room with the grace of someone who has worn these heels daily for the past seven years.

“Thank you.” Your voice wavers on the mic, giving away your heart hammering against your chest. Your mouth feels like cardboard, you're blinded by the lights, and you're just a little embarassed and thankful that the MC comes back to adjust the mic stand to a reasonable height. By the time he walks away, your head's standing tall and proud over your shoulders. “We are deeply honored. We believe this represents not only our dedication but also the incredible potential the work everyone in this room does has to shape the future.”

As your eyes adjust to the lights, you steal an indulgent glance at the heavy crystal, wand-like sculpture in your hands. One by one, faces emerge from the sparkling specks of dust in the air. They're looking at you expectantly, and though it's nothing similar to the looks your companion has been getting, there's something nearly predatory about their curiosity. The weight of your last name is heavy, but your shoulders push back in tenfold.

"I want to congratulate everyone at Kaneko Industries who inspires us every day with their creativity and dedication. This is a reflection of their collective efforts, and I’m privileged to be part of such an amazing team, and of course,this wouldn’t be possible without our CEO, Yamamoto Sota, whose leadership and support have allowed us to dream big and achieve even bigger."

Your gaze shifts from your direct superior’s prideful, borderline fatherly smile to the somber presence sitting on the other side of your vacant chair. The sight of him reminds you of a black hole, threatening to consume every last drop of life in the beautifully adorned room at any given second.

Then, a wicked spark goes through you. A brief second is all it takes.

"And I'd like to express my heartfelt gratitude to a very special person," your words ring out, "someone who has been an unexpected source of encouragement and inspiration."

As you stand alone in the spotlight, his eyes meet yours across the room for the first time.

A subtle shift of his jaw turns it into a blade, far sharper than human anatomy should allow, accompanied by the faintest flare of his nostrils. He blinks slowly, casting an ominous veil over his dark eyes. In his full glory, he’d have everyone here with their foreheads to the ground and keep a different fate just for you– you’d be saved for last.

But even as you paint yourself as the target of the world's most dangerous curse user, his wellspring of hostile intentions fails to intimidate you; instead, it sends an exhilarating thrill within you. Like a kid playing with firecrackers for the first time, awakening pyromaniac tendencies.

You have it, undeniable evidence that he’s not yet turned into a walking carcass. Beneath the surface of his pale, spectral skin and those haunting, faded eyes, the ability, the will to feel, to hate, survives. Even if part of him didn’t.

You finally have a thread to hold on to. But first, you're supposed to finish a speech.

"As we celebrate past achievements, we also look to the future. I'm excited to disclose to you that Kaneko Industries is embarking on a collaboration with the Biomedical Engineering Department at the University of Tokyo."

Uncomfortable glances are shared by your colleagues, hidden behind stiff, half-terrified smiles. The words flow out of your mouth with ease, making it too late to go back. Monday you will deal with the consequences.

"While we can't reveal all the details just yet," You add as a precautionary method and an act of useless but honest solidarity for Monday you. "You have our word that this partnership will usher in a new era of design possibilities, blending cutting-edge research with real-world applications. We're excited to continue pushing the boundaries of what's possible. Thank you."

You step down with another round of applause, and the night goes on.

About an hour later you escape the crowd for a moment of quiet and find it in the precious emptiness of the terrace. No one sets foot here; the night is too cold for comfort and merciless, crisp air freezes your lungs. The beautiful view of Tokyo makes up for it. It’s just you and your glass of champagne.

As if you’ve been under his watch, your phone buzzes against the hidden pocket on your hip about a few minutes later. You're surprised to see it's only a call, he's usually a facetimer.

“I knew Ijichi was a snitch.” you gritt. “That’s why he looks twenty years older than he is. Snitches get no collagen.”

“Be nice to him, you know he has a soft spot for you. Don’t break the man’s heart.” the voice on the line murmurs playfully, your perfectly lined eyes squint at the Tokyo Tower covered in stark blue light.

“If this is you trying to give me a scolding, just get to it. Don’t ease me into it like I’m one of your little stu–”

“Uh? It’s nothing like that. I just wanted to say congratulations, I heard you guys got the big prize tonight. I’ll make sure to bring the team their much deserved gift baskets as soon as I get back.” Knowing his flashy tendencies, he’ll pull something unnecessarily extravagant and terrorize half the building. The other half, most of them starry eyed interns, might fall deeper in love with him.

“The whole company?” you taunt, not necessarily doubting him.

“Of course! The kids at the front desk, that stuck-up little assistant of yours, even the degenerate CEO.” he promises, and you’re just opening your mouth to defend your friends when he continues “But seriously, I’m proud of you, bug. I know this means a lot to you."

"Yeah. Thanks." you rasp, right as your eyes start to sting. They might've been happy tears, but you refuse them knowing you'll have to come back inside eventually.

"Hey. We have to celebrate. how do we feel about Etxebarri?”

"In what, six months from now on? We'll have better luck with Jay Fai." you snort, even if the idea of seeing the Achondo scenery is enticing, fear creeps up on you that he's suggesting a spot with such a lengthy waitlist because he's planning an extended stay abroad. "Plus, it's no fun if I have to remind you."

"I can't help but feel underestimated. Big mistake, Kaneko, huge." he clicks his tongue "We'll do both. And if there's any other place you feel like hitting up, just let me know."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're trying to spoil me."

"Maybe you don't." you can't help but freeze at that, the sip you were taking threatening to go down the wrong pipe. You pull the phone away from you and try to recover as quietly as possible, only returning to the call in time to catch- "-used to it."

“What time is it over there?” you shut your eyes tight as soon as the question leaves your mouth, though you're sure your tone perfectly masked the mortification. Timezones? Bro, really?

“Early. Uh– 5 a.m. Doesn’t feel like it, though. The sun is bright as hell.” he complains, surely rubbing his eyes.

“Still working?”

“Just got off.” You pictured a dismissive little shrug, a reminder of how easy things come to him.

“Things are going smoothly here,” You just knew he was about to ask. “I’m handling it. Don’t stress about things that you have no control over and get some sleep.”

“No control? That’s an interesting way to phrase it. Not even a bit? And–” he chuckles airily “Have you known me to be the type to stress about things?”

“Zero, and no.” you turn to rest against the thick concrete rail, overlooking the party, hugging your waist trying to fix up some warmth. “But you have this ominous vibe every time we talk. I feel like you’re just waiting for me to tell you that I left the stove on at home. It’s kind of exhausting.”

“That’s–”

“But” you emphasize before the conversation gets too real “I get it. We’re on foreign ground, aren’t we?”

“Good foreign, or bad foreign?”

A soft laugh bubbles out of your chest at his poorly concealed apprehension. If you’re actively trying to learn your way around Geto Suguru, his counterpart you can read like a book.

“Dude, you seriously need to unclench.”

“I’m unclenched. I’m super loose, you wouldn’t believe it.”

There’s some shuffling around, followed by a sharp exhale, a telltale sound of him dropping his weight on some random hotel mattress.

“That did not land the way you wanted it to.”

“Answer my question, Kaneko.”

“Oh. Not Kaneko,” you gasp, just idly amused. No wonder his students show you more respect. “You know, If you were going to dread delegating something to me for once, maybe– I don’t know? You shouldn’t have made me your ex-boyfriend’s keeper.”

“I don’t–”

You’re cutting him off before the conversation gets too real.

“I’m fucking with you, jeez, god forbid a girl tries to make light of the situation.”

There’s a sigh of protest against you postponing an inevitable conversation, but the fact that he’s letting you off the hook speaks volumes. You keep your eyes on the one and only by the bar, standing up like he’s above sitting on a stool, ready to pulverize whoever dares come to his vicinity.

Good foreign, or bad foreign?

“I think I’m getting him to crack.”

“And why would you be trying to get him to crack?” he questions with utmost patience, like he's talking to a kid.

This time, you deflect without remorse. “He’s got enough admirers tonight to start another little cult. Do you know how long I spent surrounded by people this afternoon?”

“I don’t know. One hour?” he yawns.

“Four, Gojo. I’m talking hairdressers, makeup artists, some foreign stylist, and their assistants. There’s not a single dead skin cell in my body right now, and my tits look– they put some shiny body butter on me, I don’t think I can tell you how good they look” you pause, pinching your nose “All he has is his little bun, dark circles and vitamin D deficiency and I’m telling you, he stole my spotlight. I didn’t stand a chance.”

“I’m sure you did, bug. Don’t get too caught up about it.”

His honeyed words have the opposite effect. Your eyes narrow, shoulders sagging as you shift your weight between your feet.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you’re biased…" you murmur, shaking your head. "Whatever, I'm not worried about it, but I’ve been thinking about this–"

"Have you now?"

"I always found cults silly. I mean, what makes someone alluring enough to convince multitudes to follow them blindly like that? Even if they offer a super convincing lore about the end of the world. And they always say they’re charming and handsome, but the pictures tell another story– have you seen Jim Jones?”

The line falls quiet as reluctant realization lands on you, and you don’t even register how the cold has numbed the muscles of your face until one of your eyebrows tries to lift, tracing the edge of Geto Suguru’s profile from afar.

“But I kind of get it,” you speak your truth, more to yourself, and it comes as an intrigued whisper. The sharp wheeze of Gojo violently coughing comes immediately, breaking you out of your trance. Was he eating?

“Huh?”

Even from a distance, looking at him is a humbling experience. Pretty doesn't do him justice. Granted, the man has seen better days; you don’t get devastatingly close to achieving the dream of a lifetime, and lose a limb along with the world you built for yourself and your family without it taking a toll on you.

In every conceivable sense of the word, Geto is a withered man, but there’s something entirely magnetic about him.

The pitch-black suit you picked clings to him with an almost predestined fit, a stark reminder that under the unkempt hair and lackluster baggy clothes he wears around your apartment hides a strong, well-trained physique made of wide shoulders and a slender, should you say almost slutty waist.

Sunken eyes and weight loss aside, having a face like that never hurts, and whatever effort he put into his hair paid off nicely. A cascade of thick ebony locks spills down his back, half of it tied up in a neat bun exposing his forehead and the sharp angles of his face.

So, yeah. It seems completely plausible to you that people got hooked on his hardcore eugenics pyramid scheme, simply because they wanted to hit. Not that you would ever go down that road even at your lowest, horniest hour, but you see the POV. Now that you're thinking about it, you're not that far off from the people staring at him earlier, with the sole difference that he's... kind of in your hands already.

Your train of thought surprises you.

“I’m just gonna ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. Maybe? I don’t think so. Let’s just say I’m starting to empathize with your commitment issues.” you hold back a giggle at his pointed silence. Very few people can say they’ve left the Gojo Satoru speechless. And not for a lack of effort. “Man, imagine if I fell for him or something. That’d be hilarious. Huge conflict of interest. What would you do then?”

“Well, that– would put me in a very tight spot, for sure.”

“Mm. I can see how that would be uncomfortable for you, yes,” you admit, rather seriously, finding endless joy in how uncomfortable and concerned he sounded. You damn the distance between you for not letting you see his face. “But nah. No. I don’t go for the crazy ones, that’s your thing. Plus, it’s bros before hoes, always.”

A scoff that’s supposed to be a laugh sounds too much like a sound of relief. “Said in true girl boss lingo.”

Before you can open your mouth and continue making him uncomfortable, your alarms are set off by a figure in red approaching your roommate’s safe perimeter.

“O.k. I gotta go, there’s a— situation here. And by the way, you owe me dinner for the rest of your life. I’m never taking the tab again.”

“What? What’s–”

“And get some sleep. I’ll text you when we get home, say hi to Yuta and Miguel for me.”

“Sera–”

“I’ve got this, ok? Have some faith in me, Satoru. Don’t make me say that again.”

Your thumb hits the red button, not a glance spared at the screen as you make your way inside, sliding through the crowd and avoiding your boss and his lecture on how your stunt was a direct attack on the company’s stability. There’s a crossover at the bar that needs to be stopped immediately.

“Aunt Elisa” your tone goes a pitch higher to soften the way you’re peeling her hand off his forearm, holding it between both of yours instead. Her thin, wrinkly freckled skin reminds you of a newborn reptile.

Your aunt Elisa is the second wife of your uncle, one of the few members of your family who held onto enough shares in the company to get invited to this kind of event.

“Serafina, mia cara,” Her green eyes scan you from head to toe, lips curved in a practiced smile that always failed to reach her eyes. She’s a beautiful woman, but the stiffness of her face never fails to make you recoil. “You shouldn’t leave your date unaccompanied, it’s unbecoming. This event isn’t all about you, you’re an adult now, you should know that.”

The last time you heard from them, they were still going to great lengths to get your cousin a seat on the board, and you moved all the strings you had to make their mission impossible. Whether they caught on to your counter-scheming or not remains a mystery, you weren’t particularly sneaky about it and she’s always been lovely to chat with; as lovely as an old wretched hag with more internalized misogyny than blood running through her icy veins can be.

“No. Of course not.” You put some tragedy in your smile, furrowing your brows like the fact pains you. “It’s pretty late, so you and my uncle are probably leaving by now, right? I know his feet get all swollen when he wears his dress shoes for too long.”

“There we go. That answers my question,” she grins triumphantly, turning to look at Geto like you unknowingly fell into a trap of sorts.

There’s a hesitant chuckle from you, with a quick side eye in Geto’s direction. His face reveals nothing. “I’m sorry?”

“I was just asking the young man what you were to him, but I suppose he felt shy. Perhaps you should’ve introduced him to the family before bringing him to an event of such importance, dear. This kind of step in a relationship is discussed between both parties, you don’t want to scare him off with your dominant nature.”

“Ah, no–” You relax instantly, releasing her hand. Her wrinkly brown red lips purse at you. “No, we’re not a couple. And he’s not shy, quite the opposite. He's just uncomfortable with strangers being so casually forward with him.”

“Oh. That is such a relief.” she exhales, her arm slithers around your shoulders, rubbing up and down your bare arm. A shiver cuts through you at the unwelcome proximity. “After Kenichi called off the wedding, we worried you were rushing into finding a replacement.”

“No need for that, zia.” You blink reassuringly at her, shoulders rolling just to get her to stop touching you for a second. “If there’s one thing I learned from our family is that loveless marriages only bring depressing results. It’s one of the many cycles I’m committed to break.”

Her eyes snap up at yours, and her perfectly plucked auburn eyebrows narrow slightly. You hold her stare until she turns away from you, features instantly softening up for Geto, almost leering at him salaciously. “Are you not going to introduce us, then?”

“Geto Suguru, a pleasure to meet you.”

The velvety sound of his voice and the sound of his own name hits you like a bucket of ice-cold water. You planned to give him an alias, but somehow the opportunity to introduce him to anyone never came. Your coworkers were too taken aback by his vibe and perhaps mildly concerned to see you bring a plus one to ask you, and the death stare and intimidating demeanor kept them from starting a conversation with him directly, even in your absence.

By now, he has to know that this woman is not only a close relative of yours with less-than-kind intentions but a sorcerer as well.

“Elisa Kaneko, Il piacere è mio.”

Either you were having a distorted vision of reality, or he was almost smiling at her.

“So, now that you’re finally speaking, and since my niece keeps avoiding the subject, will you grace me with an answer?”

Your shoulders tighten. There’s no indication that she connects the dots, your aunt and uncle live in Europe, much more concerned with a lavish life than they are with Jujutsu matters. However, your cousin could recognize the name.

“Sono il suo karma, zia.” You pull away from her and come to stand by his side instead, pressing your shoulder against his arm like the muzzle of a gun. You look up at him with a secretive smile and let the woman read into it however she wants to. “And I can’t scare him off. We have a contract and all. Ho cambiato il suo destino. He’s tied to me.”

You feel more than you see him stiffen. Another glass on you and you might've poked your tongue in his direction.

Go on. Give it a shot, Geto-sama.

“É così che lo chiami di questi tempi?” She scoffs after assessing the two of you hoping to catch you slacking. “Well, in that case, I’m sure you must’ve lived a beautiful and honorable life, Geto-san. Our Sera is the gift of the Kaneko family, our doré enfant, did you know? Our Golden Child, her grandfather used to call her.”

You know where this is going.

"Zia-"

"Fate has dealt her a heavy hand, so if she changed yours, hopefully you'll do the same for her. For good fortuna of course, yes?"

You let her rejoice with a tight-lipped smile and excuse the two of you, saying your goodbyes and kissing her cheeks before walking away without checking to see if he follows behind.

The silence on the drive back home feels like a loaded gun. Ijichi drives diligently and quietly, hoping not to be noticed by either of you but sparing concerned glances through the rearview.

You can’t help but wonder what kind of Pandora’s box you opened by bringing him outside, even if only for a night. Back inside the building, as the elevator doors close in front of you, your mind is made up to grab onto the small thread and pull.

“Well played,” you acknowledge, cutting through the soft bossa nova version of some Korean song that topped the charts last year “I drag you with me to a party and you try to recruit my aunt. Kind of a petty move, but it could make things a little bit uncomfortable for me, I’ll give you that.”

You let the chorus pass. No answer comes.

“You know, for a former cult leader, you sure hate the attention. It must’ve been an exhausting ten years for you, maybe you should start thinking about this as your retirement, hm? Lighten up a bit.”

Your reflection’s a blurry blob on the brushed surface of the elevator doors. He keeps his stare forward, wide shoulders dwarfing your figure next to him, standing at a measured distance. Anyone with enough context might call you crazy for poking a murderous man with nothing to lose in an enclosed space, isolated from any sort of protection.

“Here’s the deal. Making you come was unnecessary, but you left me no choice. Plus, it's not like you had plans.”

Ouch. Tough crowd. All you get is a single, slow, uninterested blink that would put the world's meanest cat to shame.

You drop the friendly tone, crossing your arms instead.

“I’m not trying to make this any more difficult than it is. The sooner you come to terms with that, the smoother things will go.”

The doors open in front of you with an imperceptible hum. Your gloved hand touches the metal frame before they close again. The man is stubborn, doesn’t move until you finally step out with a roll of your eyes, and follows you through the dimly lit hallway like a sinister shadow.

You open the door to your apartment with a soft click, halfway through a long exhale and deliciously close to savoring releasing your feet when the world spins–

No warning. You're pushed between the ice-cold surface behind you and the wall that he is. A strong hand covers half of your face tightly before any sounds of protest can come out.

A million thoughts speed through your head. Most of them are about how you've brought this onto yourself. You can feel him breathe steadily against you, while you hold yours and brace yourself for his next move, which is totally not your style. What's even weirder is that you're not breathing at all, but you pick up the scent of something like leather and wood in the rough skin of his hand on your nose and mouth. To be fair, it suits him. Maybe you're hallucinating, leave it to you to show signs of phantosmia in a situation like this.

This is it. He's gonna try to kill me right now. Hours after I told Gojo to trust me. He's never gonna let me live it down.

You don’t notice he’s released you until you see him bring a finger to his lips, stone-cold eyes staring over your head. You briefly wonder if this is what those curses saw, or felt -if they're even capable of such a thing- before he swallowed them.

It’s in that tense moment that you catch the faint sounds coming from the apartment. There's someone inside.

He’s gone before you blink again.

You stay rooted in that spot and start to seriously reconsider your life choices. Then, you silently step out of your heels, wipe away the strange warmth his hand left on your face, and make your way inside.

Silence.

And then a sharp slam followed by a thud.

They’re in your office. You stand at the end of the hallway, ears straining, and let him come to you.

You turn as a shadow lunges from behind, a metallic object poised to strike just a fraction of an inch away from your face, aimed at your left eye. Not a knife, not a gun, but a much more intricate object. You push back against his forearm trying to make sense of it and duck and he swipes it across the space your head once occupied.

A swift kick at your legs sends you sprawling to the ground. Rolling with the momentum, you fall across the different floor heights and land at the center of your living room narrowly avoiding his boot as it lands on the ground.

That pisses you off. Stepping on you? Uncalled for.

Indignation in mind, your hand swipes under the coffee table and closes under the reassuring cold handle of a knife. The chance comes next as he charges at you again. In one fluid motion, you curl your body around his leg and slash the blade across his calves.

No cry of pain comes but he drops on one knee, neck straining as he looks up at your glass ceiling. To your surprise, he's standing back up in no time. Impressive.

He’s wearing a black kimono and hakama pants, young and good enough of a fighter to land a few hits on your side and still move with significant speed and determination after the number you've done on his legs.

He never once reaches for his katana, a detail that tells you that his technique has something to do with it and he knows it’s rendered useless in the confines of your apartment. No one but Gojo Satoru can wield cursed energy in the building. You both spent a good six months working on the prototype for the protection system.

“Zenin or Kamo?” you ask breathlessly, dress skirt tattered and fluttering around you thanks to your own hands ripping it.

He lunges again. He’s strong and you're rusty, but you’re faster. You seize the moment and move to the side, grabbing onto his arm with one hand and plunging the blade into his side. It slides easily between his ribs like he’s made of butter left out of the fridge.

“Kaneko?”

He stumbles on his feet, eyes glazing over, fixed on you.

He can’t be much older than Megumi.

With a heavy, not as graceful as you'd like kick to his middle, you send him hurtling into the crystal shelf unit.

Wasting no time, you sprint to your office. Papers whirl like confetti, and every single object on your desk is scattered on the floor. Geto's going at it with a dark figure, dressed in the exact same clothes as your buttery friend back there.

You step into the room just in time to catch it. His expression of shock gives away the exact moment it hits him, as he tries to land a punch with his missing arm. All three of you realize the slip, and the stranger capitalizes on it. With brutal force, Geto crashes through the floor-to-ceiling window, the glass shattering with a deafening explosion.

Eyes wide and unblinking, he props himself up with his arm, and you recognize that he’s gone, a million miles away from the room.

It's just you and the intruder who stalks over him with full purpose, katana in hand.

Three shots ring out. The man's knees fold in first, his weight balancing cartoonishly until he crumples to the ground, katana following with a resounding clang, its echo reverberating through the wreckage.

Carefully navigating through the shattered glass on your bare feet, you make your way to the balcony, extending a hand at him. The rain pours mercilessly, its drops thick enough to sting on bare skin, the sound a lonely symphony in the quiet hum of Aoyama at night. You take the wordless rejection and come back inside before you're completely drenched.

“As I was saying,” you sniff, kicking away the katana, using the butt of your gun to push away a strand of hair that escaped what used to be a beautifully done updo. “We don’t have to be best friends, but we don’t have to be enemies either. The whole psychological waterboarding thing sounds exhausting. You seem to be doing that yourself just fine.”

It’s only a miracle that in the wreckage that they’ve turned your office into, your liquor cabinet survives. You generously fix up two glasses and skip the ice in his, having a feeling that he's one of those people.

“I must’ve truly been blessed. Karma is rarely known to be so benevolent.”

There it is. After that pitiful display, wet like a dog abandoned in the pouring, ice cold rain, and slipping on his first attempt at regaining his footing, there's an acidic edge to his words as he approaches you, like a serpent hissing through its fangs, its venom dripping from every syllable.

“You took the liberty of introducing yourself to my aunt; I thought I could afford a little joke.”

His hair sticks to his neck, bun unraveled like a tattered flag. Strands cling to the side of his face. He’s limping, and there’s a bright red spot on his amputated shoulder. He stops at a considerable distance. You slide the glass across your desk in his direction, not in a gesture of hospitality, but more like offering a lifeline to a drowning man.

“Your clan doesn’t know,'' he states. Droplets of water hit the floor under him, from his hand, his soaked clothes, and his chin. “You’ve done this without notifying them; you’ve committed treason.”

The first sip washes down your throat, cold and scalding at the same time, as you sit on the edge of your crooked desk. A sharp burst of pain in your leg reminds you that you did not come out of your own fight unscathed.

“My clan.” you repeat, though you mean it as a question. “And who’ll come for me? You didn’t exactly leave any elders for me to answer to.”

His brows furrow slightly, the corners of his eyes closing momentarily as if to read a truth written in a foreign language. You, on the other hand, are only momentarily lost and quickly draw the line from A to B.

“Are you doing a bit right now?”

You can’t help the pitch of your voice going higher, blinking quickly at him, giving him time to deny your unspoken assumption.

“Who did you think those Star Religious Group leaders were? The Kaneko family was the backbone of the Time Vessel Association. Did you– did you not know that?”

His eyes shift between yours, searching. Why would you lie about this? It makes sense. After all, your clan positioned itself as one of the big four partly due to descending from Tengen herself. It makes sense that they had their claws in her little murderous fan cafe from its very beginnings.

“Really? That’s hilarious. You cleaned house for me. I should thank you.” you lift your glass.

“Still.” he mutters, the knot between his eyebrows not giving. You take another sip. “You’re head of a clan–”

Worry starts to settle in you, did he hit his head or something? Surely, the world's wettest, most dangerous curse user so far can't be this dense.

“I’m a non-sorcerer, not to mention a woman. Do you think anyone holds me to that standard? As long as the company keeps filling their pockets, my family will stay in line, and as you can see we’re not doing too bad.”

The majority of the living members had slowly excited Jujutsu Society, those who were active hardly regarded you as a leader. Life makes you the nepo-child of a sinking clan well past its glory days and the world refuses to let you forget how insignificant and purposeless your position is.

All in all, the only remarkable thing left is the company your grandfather founded decades ago, and the Kaneko vault, but that's another thing entirely. You represent nothing other than a silver of hope for the survival of the Kaneko inherited technique. And even in that area you’re damaged goods.

"So, that moving speech you delivered to the higher-ups—did it not speak honestly of your intentions?"

You indulge in another sip.

“What’s your angle then, Golden Child?”

“Ha. You caught that, huh?” you laugh half-heartedly at the nickname, your phone starts buzzing quietly, but you pay it no mind. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not interested in your redemption arch. I just didn’t see the benefit in you letting you die.”

“So you agreed to this?”

This.

A binding vow.

Set by far with better considerations for you, granted. If anything, you're a warden of sorts. The cruel irony in binding him to a non-sorcerer did not escape you. The higher-ups know their poetic shit when they want to.

One of the main conditions is that at any given time you can draw without consequence, and the original sentence will proceed; execution by none other than Gojo Satoru himself.

“You don’t trust me, I get it,” you admit, a faint understanding in the drop of your voice. It is reasonable, you’re strangers, tethered together only by a thread named Gojo Satoru. “Honestly, I wouldn’t trust me either, but you should know that I’m not the type to give up easily.”

You sound confident, like you weren’t seriously considering dropping his ass to the Jujutsu version of the lethal injection if he kept freezing you out and sucking the serotonin out of your apartment. Your phone buzzes again, and he eyes the exact spot where it’s hidden with knowing eyes.

“Is it love?” he inquires, the question hanging in the air.

The ice cube in your mouth shatters into tiny fragments between your clamping teeth, the cold sensation spreading across your tongue.

"Is that why you're so desperate to cater to his desires?" his eyebrows arch empathetically, voice dripping with concern, and you can't help but recall that you've witnessed more emotions cross his face in the last four hours than you have in an entire month.

As you remain silent, he shakes his head gently, a disappointed click of his tongue echoing in the room.

“You should know better, Serafina. He’s Gojo Satoru. Nothing is impossible for him. Everything he’s ever wanted and needed in life, he’s had it. You’ll waste yours away trying to live up to a man like that.”

“Worried about me, or speaking from experience?” he smiles at the floor, casting you a look that’s equal parts pity and amusement. Like you’re an insect landing on a venus flytrap. A tragedy waiting to unfold. “I like this. I like us talking, but I think we should be more serious about this.”

Your chin dips at the body on the floor. The younger intruder, hopefully just unconscious in your living room, will have to answer for both of them. A fate far harsher than what his deceased companion faced.

“Let’s be.” he agrees, unusually animated, extending his open palm towards you. “We should also be honest, wouldn’t you agree?”

Fair enough.

“I didn’t think he deserved to execute his best friend” You concede easily. If he’s looking to play 4D chess, he’ll have better luck with whoever sent your two visitors. “And who knows, maybe you didn’t deserve the easy way out either. You’re gone, leaving the rest to clean up the mess? That's not fair.”

“And what do you believe I deserve?”

The end of the conversation looms over you as the rain starts to give. You need to make a few calls, deal with the man in your living room, and figure out what comes next before getting some much-needed sleep, which might end up being none.

And there’s something unknown to you that bleeds into his question, that tells you the curtains are closing on you for the night.

“I’m not gonna pretend to know the answer to that.” you shake your head dismissively “But I do know you’re beyond giving a shit about what happens to you, so this is my promise to you; betray Gojo's decision, and I’ll make sure your family pays your debt.”

Live, Geto Suguru. Whether you find a reason to wake up in the morning or not, you will live. You don’t get to die. You'll face this shitty, monkey riddled world for as long as you have to. I'll make sure of it.

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