#Ways to Find Peace in the Midst of Chaos

[novthirty]

🐦‍⬛ OUT OF BOUNDS — you get isekai-d into the n109 zone [chapter four]

synopsis — the monotony of your university days is interrupted by a stroke of misfortune, one which lands you in the world of love and deepspace, the game you had been casually playing for the previous months. with no way to return home, sylus offers you the job of being his personal secretary. — a continuation of the one-shot “out of bounds”

pairing — sylus x non-mc! reader

tags — reader is not mc, isekai/transmigration, fluff, angst, mutual pining, slice of life, boss/employee relationship, slow burn, grief, mourning, loss

a/n — we have finally reached the long awaited reader crashout and are nearing the end… i hope you all enjoy! this chapter was fucking with me for so long and i wanted to take my time rather than under deliver. this story means a lot to me and i’m trying my best to make sure it pays off well<33 but still, 18k words was not easy to edit so please don't mind any slight errors 😓 also, caleb came home in 30 pulls so do expect a birthday fic coming soon ~ (whether it'll be on time for his birthday is the question...)

ao3 | masterlist | series masterlist | part three | part five [coming soon]

chapter four: inevitable — it’s hard to shine when you’re standing between the sun and the moon. wc: 18.6k

The hunter’s arrival is no more than a whisper within the N109 Zone. 

Sylus has kept the truth of her existence under lock and key, hiding his weakness under steel and chainmail. As far as the world knows, his interest lies in the protocore attached to her heart — and he plans to keep it that way. Biding his time, preparing for the day he carefully steps into her life.

But, like the force of nature she was, the hunter manages to find her own way in.

He’s the image of cool confidence as he’s informed of her capture in enemy hands, draping a blazer atop his shoulders and instructing the twins to start the car. “Will you be able to hold the fort on your own?” He asks.

But you can see the barest tremor in his hands, the tension in his shoulders, the rising fear of losing her before he even gets to see her with his own two eyes.

“You can count on me.”

This is the only peace you can offer him in the midst of this chaos. 

His eyes continue to linger, as if time wasn’t of the essence. Little words have been exchanged between the two of you since the hunter came into the picture. And for a moment, you think he might say something (please, say something). But all he does is grip your shoulder as if to ground himself, nodding in a silent ‘thank you’ before he leaves. 

The door shuts behind him. 

You know how this story goes. It was only a matter of time before he reunited with his lover in this life, before the story would continue along its tracks and catch you in the crossfire. 

Your search for a way home had become painfully futile. You’d think a world altered by the discovery of the Deepspace Tunnel would have more answers to the truth of your presence here, but your search had dug up nothing. Wormholes, dimensional travel, transmigration; from the philosophical to the scientific, all paths led to dead ends. 

You sit listless in your chair, fiddling with the necklace Sylus gave you as you wait for your life to be thrown into chaos. 

Staring into the metropolitan abyss of the N109 Zone, you sometimes like to imagine what sylus sees. An ant-like web of crimes and deceit, of power-hungry folks looking to get ahead and eat each other alive in the process. But all you ever see is a world beyond your understanding. And here, you wonder where you fit in this ecosystem; what your presence has done to change the story. 

You burst into terrible, broken laughter.

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. 

You were but a drop of water in the ocean. There was nothing that you, with no worth or significance to your name, could do to make more than a solitary ripple.

And so, you keep your longings locked and your love as just thoughts, as you wait in bated breath for the story and their fated reunion to begin.

—————————————————————

“Where are you taking me?” Her voice is biting as the twins bring her to the room you’ve prepared. Ornate, spacious, and windowless, just as Sylus asked. A gilded cage with an open door. You don’t see her but her rage rings through the corridors, something that feels almost like a hallucination after having stepped in her shoes, reading the story you once adored.

Her arrival is a marker of the story catching up to you, of time catching up to you. A reminder that you do not belong in this world. 

In the next few days, you become a quiet observer of this tale, watching their fractured reunion play out.

“What makes you think I'd ever be willing to help you?” She snapped at Sylus after their third failure at resonance, a sad attempt at a threat when she lay exhausted, slumped in the fancy chair in his study.

“You don’t exactly have a choice, sweetie. As you can see —” He gestures to the opulent surroundings, “— you’re in my territory.”

You roll your eyes. Trust Sylus to make a shit first impression, even to the supposed love of his life.

You keep to the sidelines, going about your typical routine. But your curiosity gets the better of you on the second day, when you offer to bring the hunter her food. 

You can’t help but imagine being in her shoes right now; kidnapped by the man she believes to have destroyed her home and killed her family. To an extent, you think it might not be so different to how you felt, first arriving here.

So, you decide to reach out. Maybe gain her trust and coax her into eating and regaining her strength. Food is the way to the heart, after all. At dinner time, you bring a tray to her room, knocking on the door and calling her name.

“Who's there?” She asks from the other side of the door, wariness lacing her voice. 

You introduce yourself, “It’s me, Sylus's secretary. Aren’t you hungry?” You soften your voice, treating her with the gentleness you would a cornered animal, but you’re met with silence. Concern gnaws at you, “You haven’t eaten in twenty four hours.”

She scoffs, the sound muffled by the barrier between you two. “What, isn’t that your plan? Starve me til’ I’m too weak to escape and resist Sylus's demands?”

You stop in your tracks, puzzled. “Escape? You know you can leave, right? No one’s going to stop you.” Even the door was unlocked. But you believed knocking was a basic form of respect, unwilling visitor or not.

She stays tight-lipped for the next few moments, so you continue, “Not that you’d get any further than a couple blocks, what with vultures hanging around the compound at all hours of the day—” Your spiel is cut off as she suddenly swings the door open, doing a double take at the sight of you.

It’s clear she sees the resemblance just as you had, her face contorting from defensiveness to stunned confusion. But for you, seeing her in the flesh only refuted any idea of similarity between the two of you.

Haggard and bruised, the hunter still manages to shine in the gritty underbelly of the N109 Zone.

When you first saw her face projected in the hologram, the likeness was unmistakable. The shape of your eyes, the slope of your nose, and the barely-there difference in the color of your hair and complexion. Anyone could have mistaken the two of you as cousins, maybe even siblings. But standing in front of her now, the difference has become clear as day.

You can’t help but understand how so many have fallen head over heels, enthralled by her and her character. In the shadow of her energy and vivacious presence, you could only look dim in comparison. Standing beside Sylus was no small feat — one that you’d failed to live up to, looking nondescript and ordinary at the side of the most powerful man in the N109 Zone. 

But of course, she fits like the missing piece to his puzzle. The dragon and the sorceress, now the criminal and the hunter. You try not to feel inferior, tamping down the jealousy and pettiness festering within you, but it’s hard to shine when you’re standing between the sun and the moon.

The initial surprise dissipates, and she eyes you with the mistrust expected of a kidnapee twice-over. You extend the tray towards her as a sign of good will, “Eat it while it’s still hot.”

“...How do I know it’s not poisoned?”

You huff, taking a quick bite. “Happy now?” 

She snatches the tray and slams the door behind her in one quick motion. You click your tongue; so much for gaining her trust. 

—————————————————————

Time had dulled your memory of how awful their first meeting truly was. 

Really, what was Sylus thinking? You wonder as he treats his treasured soulmate so… menacingly. 

You’ve become a bystander to the motions of the story you’re familiar with; the failed resonance, her disdain for him, and his absolute lack of tact in interacting with her. With his every word coated in menace and veiled threats, you’re wondering if Sylus was even thinking at all. Was he like this when you two first met? You try to recall as you get the ick from his unexpected hostility.

You want to know what’s running through his mind, what possessed him to think this was the appropriate way to go about this. But since the hunter’s arrival, your time with him had become even more scarce, any moment together cut off by his work or your urgency to leave. 

Guilt washes over you each time you see his face drop, when you make another hasty escape from facing him. But you cling on to the belief that this was necessary, to give you both space to adjust to the hunter’s presence, and for you to learn to live with the fact that he was not yours.

The two return from the workshop, and you stride into the office to give your daily secretarial report — only to find him hunched at his desk with a glass of wine, staring vacantly into the skyline of the N109 Zone.

In the dimly lit office, his eyes, shrouded by the shadows, give away nothing. But you catch the way his shoulders tense, his fingers clenching the stem of the glass. 

“Sylus?” You call out gently, announcing your presence with audible footsteps as you approach him, breaking your internal promise to keep your distance. But you could only hold out this one-sided silence for so long, weak in the face of his vulnerability. 

He calls your name with a weary tone, “Do me a favor and tell the informant I won't be meeting him today.”

“Are you okay? What happened?” You take slow steps in approaching him.

He fiddles with the stem of his wine glass as he releases a low, bitter laugh, “Well… it seems that our dearest hunter fears me. It was not any bodily dysfunction or injury that was preventing us from resonating, but rather her disgust.”

She captured his heart, bound his soul to hers, and now has no recollection of any of it. Detests him to the point her evol rejects his. 

You feign ignorance to the story beats you remember, “Well, it’s only been so long since you’ve met her again… If she’s still the same person, her memories of you are still there, deep down.”

“As if the world hasn’t made me wait long enough.” 

You don’t know what to say to that — heart torn between feeling bruised and feeling sadness for him.

“I'd like to be alone.” He takes a deep breath, a subtle command as returns his gaze to the skyline, guarding his vulnerability, unwilling to bare more of his weaknesses than he already has.

The world sees Sylus as an unstoppable force, as the supreme authority in the criminal underworld. But though the dragon may be fierce and capable, the human underneath was just that — a human. One that got frustrated, whose skin bruised, who had weaknesses that he guarded with veiled ferocity. But somehow, somewhere along the way, he’d chosen to strip the curtains of that vulnerability to you.

Maybe in another world, you would have taken him into your arms, refused to leave him as he quietly fell apart. But in this reality, it was no longer your place to do so. As it was, he had promised his heart to another, leaving yours too tender to comfort his.

The only peace you could offer him now was the privacy to crumble in solitude.

Still, you couldn’t bear to leave him so quietly. “You’re not a hard person to love. You know that, right?” You whisper, a quiet admission of your feelings. For all his gruff and intimidating nature, it was not his power, money, or looks that earned him your affection. But rather, all the softness he guards from the harsh world he lives in.

You shut the door before he can acknowledge you, trying to wipe the mental image of his conflicted expression. You mute his email for the next hour, redirecting it to your inbox, offering him a brief moment of peace to ruminate in his thoughts.

You laugh silently, bitterly to yourself, for giving so much of yourself for a man who was devoted to another. Despite having been set aside, you still can’t help but show your love for him in the only way you know how. (In the only way you can).

And you wonder to yourself: could you ever touch the part of him that hurts? One of the most powerful men in this world, having his world shaken by the hunter’s disdain. If it were your spite, your hurt that he faced, would it even feel close to the gravity he feels now? 

You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to. 

You had found yourself in the deep end, and it was high time to swim back to shore, to back out of this one-sided race. Because you may have received his affection, but you will never receive the depth of his devotion.

—————————————————————

Hostility melts into mischievous affection as the hunter’s dynamic with Sylus takes a sudden pivot into unfamiliar territory. The visit to the shopkeeper marked a turning point in their relationship as Sylus came to his senses, and their relationship evolved for the better. The truth to their tied souls, you think, as you bear witness to the connection quickly blossoming between them.

You’re fine. Really, you are. 

(At least, that’s what you tell yourself each time you see the soft smile on his face, melting in adoration for the hunter.)

You stop avoiding him, after catching a glimpse of the vulnerability he attempts to hide. His face lights up whenever you approach him, breaking the silence you kept for so long. And not for the first time, you feel guilt wash over you for how you added to his existing turmoil.

But still, you’re left wondering about your place in his life now that the hunter has arrived. 

The pages turn one after another as the two of you fall back into old routines, nurturing the friendship and camaraderie you built over the past year. But not everything stays the same.

You maintain your boundaries, keeping your nightmares and worries to yourself — settling for long, lonely nights, when the alternative is setting yourself up for a painful road. 

One night, you find a rare moment of peace in the recent chaos. The two of you battle over this world’s version of Monopoly in a high-stakes, cutthroat bet to determine who will have the first taste of Luke and Kieran’s slightly… dubious creation in the kitchen.  

They had taken up a class in baking after catching you one too many times in the dead of the night, making midnight snacks. A fact which warmed your heart, at first, until you realized that neither twin has ever touched a stove in their lives. The clanging of pots and shouts coming from the kitchen only serve to fill you with dread. 

You try your best, but eventually resign yourself to your fate. You know a lost cause when you see it. You didn’t exactly expect death by food poisoning, but when you think about it, it wasn’t a bad way to go.

“Can’t you let this poor salaryman pass through? Just this once?” You pout on the second hour of playing this stupid board game, putting on your best puppy eyes as you implore him to pity your little player.

“That wouldn’t be fair to you, sweetie.” He smiles as you begrudgingly hand over the play money for landing on his property.

His attention is focused solely on you, a rarity since the hunter’s arrival. But even with the scarce time you’ve spent together, you can’t pretend not to have noticed the growing bags under his eyes, the constant furrow in his brow. He’s handled the chaos in the N109 Zone with the stride of a man who knows his word is law; but at the expense of his own health and rest.

In perfect timing, the game ends just as the twins exit the kitchen, dressed in matching aprons and holding a plate of mini strawberry shortcakes. You end up losing, as expected, but Sylus is a good sport — taking a bite right alongside you. 

It’s… not bad at all, especially for a beginner. A little wonky and undercooked in the middle, the edges slightly burnt. But it’s edible. “Not bad,” You say — and immediately correct yourself, “Not that I thought it would be! But it’s good. Better than my first go at it, at least.” You leave out the age you were when you first touched an oven — all worth it to see their eyes shining from your praise.

”Awe, thanks, Miss Secretary! It was all in a day’s work,” Luke grins as he fixes his crooked apron. 

Of course, Sylus is Sylus. Eliciting his praise is like pulling out teeth. “It’s… acceptable, I’ll admit,” He says with a satisfied hum. 

Still, it’s enough for the twins to celebrate with a high five, “Hell yeah!”

The four of you clear half the tray, before bidding the twins good night, the two  suddenly tired from the sugar crash. “Amateurs,” You tease. They probably kept taste-testing the ingredients.

“I hadn't expected baking to become such an… outlet of energy for them.” Sylus comments, stealing a strawberry from your piece. You retaliate by getting a scoop of his whipped cream. 

“Well, most people I know started baking as some sort of distraction or stress relief,” You eat a forkful of cake and nod in approval. Every storm in your life has been followed by the creation of more pastries than you could possibly eat. “If it distracts them from the pranks, then I wholeheartedly approve!” You cheerily stake your fork into the air.

“Knowing the twins, they’ll just find a way to incorporate it,” He eyes the kitchen doors skeptically, not wanting their mischief to bleed into the food they eat.

With all the sugar you just consumed, it was clear you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. “Wanna clear this batch with me? Before they go and stock the fridge with the rest of their projects.”

“I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check on that,” He says as he puts on his blazer again, standing up from the dining table.

“Hm? But there wasn’t anything on the calendar, last I checked. Did I miss —”

You’ve already brought out your phone to view the shared calendar when he explains, “I’ll be meeting with the hunter regarding a little… deal, that she’s brokered.” He leans down to match your height and ruffles your hair. “Don’t worry, Miss Secretary. Your schedule’s still intact.”

You roll your eyes, trying to muster a smile as you remind him, “Be nice.”

He raises an eyebrow, “When am I not?” Tch. When is he ever? 

Soon, you settle in the silence of an empty kitchen — and the thought of more cake doesn’t sound so appealing anymore. It’s never easy hearing of the two spending time together, much less seeing them in the penthouse everyday. But you’d rather have a friendship with Sylus than nothing at all. And you can only hope that with time, one day, it won’t hurt at all anymore. 

For a brief period of time, you have hope of that possibility. You think if you hold these boundaries in place and protect your friendship, things might just return to normal. Even if it means the end to anything more.  

That is, until the arrival of the auction.

The Solon Hotel celebrates its 15th annual auction, a Myriad of Nights. The crinkled invitation has been pinned to your corkboard for months, a dreaded reminder of all the preparations you needed to make.

The event has kept you on your toes; dutifully studying the list of guests, keeping an eye on keen bidders and Onychinus rivals. This auction is one of the N109 Zone’s most important events of the year, with the grossly rich and the violently powerful alike having a stake in this auction.

One week before the auction, Sylus strolls into the office, a sly smile plastered on his face, “I come bearing good news.”

You roll out your chair to face him. Without missing a beat, you ask, “A raise? World peace? Luke and Kieran outgrowing their terrible twos?”

“I'm not a miracle worker,” He smirks at that last one. “No, I've come to tell you that you’ve been granted a night off on the 17th.” 

“The 17th?” You question — and he amusedly spins your chair before striding over to his desk, ready to start the work day. But you’re left dazed, stopping the wheel as you pull up the shared digital calendar, confirming your suspicions. “But that’s the night of the auction.”

“Miss Hunter will be covering for you.”

“Oh?” Your face falls in an obvious dismay you can’t hide. 

The auction. Like many things from the story that have become hazy over time, the auction had slipped your mind. With how far back preparations had started, you completely overlooked its connection with the hunter’s arrival.

“She has her own agenda for the night,” He continues, “One that promises bloodshed. So, I want you to rest easy for the night. Take a well deserved break.”

By all accounts, you should be glad. You can’t blame him for making this decision, as you vocally detest going to these events. It’s easily the least enjoyable part of your job. But even with the foreknowledge you had, the thought of her taking your place weighs like a heavy brick in your stomach.

He realizes you’re not exactly pleased. “You can still come if you’d like to, of course,” He’s quick to assure you. “I thought you might enjoy the night off since you despise dealing with these affairs. I didn’t take you for being such a workaholic,” He chuckles affectionately, motioning to ruffle your hair — but you pull away, a little too abruptly.

You see his face fall, and you quickly brush it off and pretend to be unaffected, “Ah, ah, ah — no can do, slave driver!” You dramatically make a letter X with your arms. “You can’t take away a day off once you’ve given it.”

He rolls his eyes, but the concern doesn’t leave his face as he tries to coax you into opening up, eyes filled with a quiet honesty, “There’s no need to pretend like you’re not bothered by this. I know you’ve worked hard for this event.”

“Sylus, you don’t need to worry about me. You have bigger fish to fry. Besides, why would I be bothered by a day off?” You try to play it off. 

He sighs, accepting that you’re not going to talk about this any further. “Well, you know that there’s no one who can do your job better, right?” He places a hand on your shoulder, “I just don’t want you getting caught in the trouble that’s bound to ensue.”

You muster a smile, “Of course. After all, what would you do without your dearest secretary?”

He smirks, mind flashing to a night that now feels further than the sun. “Descend into chaos, no doubt.”

As though you were a scorned lover, you watch them from the mezzanine of the penthouse, dressed in your frilly pajamas and sipping a hot mug of tea as they leave dressed to the nines. The criminal and the hunter, two souls cut from the same cloth.

As much as it hurts you to stay behind, there was no way you would be able to stomach the picture perfect image of them together.

“Ready?” He offers his arm with the mannerisms of a perfect escort.

“It's showtime.”

“You lovebirds leaving without me?” You can’t help but be a little dramatic and interrupt their moment — though, Sylus definitely sensed your presence long before they entered. “Could’ve saved me a dance, at least.”

The hunter’s face scrunches in disdain at the mention of lovebirds, but she quickly recovers. “Oh, I think there’ll be more than just dancing, Miss Secretary,” She cheekily lifts the slit of her dress, showing a peek of the pistol strapped to her thigh. 

Despite already knowing they’ll have a safe return, your brows knit in worry, “Stay safe out there, you two.”

“You know we can’t promise that — but we’ll make a good effort,” Sylus smirks at you, a hint of concern in his eyes at the idea of leaving you behind.

You nod, a silent way of saying you’ll be okay. You wave goodbye and the hunter returns it eagerly, having warmed up to you in the past week. But the concerned, knowing look never leaves Sylus's face until they depart. 

The elevator doors slide shut, and it feels like a coffin closing over your heart. 

You laugh at how dramatic you’re being as you hold back a slight tear. It’s just an auction, you keep telling yourself. But it’s not the auction, isn’t it? It was seeing her take your place, and knowing this won’t be the last time.

You pick yourself back up, resolving to make the most of your night off. You make yourself comfortable in the living room, blanket and couch all to yourself, a movie running as background noise as you try to distract yourself with all sorts of hobbies. But you find yourself listless, unable to keep your mind focused on one thing.

The movie ends, and it becomes quiet.

With Sylus gone and the twins on a mission, the silence becomes all consuming. You leave a light on for when they return, trekking through opulent hallways until you reach your room, where once again, you stare into the city skyline stretching out into the distance. 

There’s rarely ever an opportunity to be alone in the Onychinus base. But when you are, it never ends well. You used to be able to appreciate solitude in your old world, but maybe you’ve become a little spoiled here, in receiving the constant companionship you had once lived without as a student living away from home. 

Here, solitude is when the lines between your dreams and reality begin to blur. Hours dazed in the possibilities of the past, the possibilities of a world where you had stayed. Graduated, diploma in hand as your family stands proudly at your side. Starting your career, devoting your passion to the field you love.

In comparison, this place feels like a lovely yet imprisoning dream. You’re fascinated by the wonders of the world you live in now, but each day that passes is a reminder of your place — or rather, lack thereof — in this world. A reminder of losses beyond comprehension. The loss of chance. The loss of possibility. No opportunity for you to grow, no winding path to change and evolve. And you ask yourself: are you even living?

This world feels like dreaming in a far-too-long nap. And not for the first time, you want to wake up from it.

It's currently March, the last of the winter chill before the snow melts, marking more than a year since your arrival. You feel like a broken record, looping back to the same hurts in an endless loop of grief; your doomed love, severed home, rootless soul. You can no longer fool yourself into thinking you can continue like this. You can no longer pretend to have a reason to stay.

You need to spare yourself from this grief, before it consumes you. 

—————————————————————

The auction reaches a chaotic conclusion, one that is whispered about through the N109 Zone for weeks after. You feel the ripples of their actions even from the safety of your office. Luke and Kieran are sent to clean house at The Nest. Meanwhile, you’re swamped with associates from Onychinus’s complex web of loyalties, scrambling to reclaim their spot in Sylus's good graces in light of the recent power struggle. 

Eventually, the dust settles. The pages of the calendar turn as the snow melts and warmth pours into the Onychinus base. And alongside the sunshine is Miss Hunter, whose presence becomes a permanent fixture in the penthouse.

It has only been a year since your arrival in this world, but your life has been completely upended, you think. From being a broke, burned out college student, to a tired secretary and mother of three. 

Who were those three children, one may ask?

“Miss Secretary!” You poke your head out to see what the fuss was all about, hearing the twins snickering not too far away. The hunter stomps her way to your room, face cringed and seething in disgust. “Luke and Kieran gave me a cookie filled with toothpaste!”

“Ah — see, your first mistake there was trusting anything they gave you.”

Luke and Kieran warmed up extremely quickly to the hunter, as they did in the story. They enjoyed her presence around the base, but you couldn’t tell if it was more for her personality or the fact they had a new target for their trickery. A part of you was relieved; it meant you were no longer on their roster of victims (not that they particularly like pranking you, as you stare them down in disappointment each time). But their determination to mess with the hunter was going to send you into an early grave. 

“I didn't even know they could feed themselves, let alone bake,” She pouted, crossing her arms. “In fact, they told me you made them!”

Ah. “Well… there may be some truth to that…” Your voice descends in volume to hide your guilt, but the hunter manages to hear quite clearly. 

“You knew about it, and you didn’t tell me?” She gasps, face contorting into mock betrayal. “I can't believe you had it in you to be this… deceitful!”

In your defense, they had only asked you for baking lessons on how to make a cookie sandwich. You had no part in the actual crime. (Though, you may have turned a blind eye at them squeezing toothpaste in the frosting bag. Your patience can only go so far.)

As penance and apology, you promise to bake her actual, edible cookies in return for the monstrosity she just ingested, when you suddenly have a stroke of genius. “I wonder if they have any left.” Your face contorts into a shit-eating grin, “Don’t you think Sylus would appreciate a sweet treat right about now?”

The two of you cackle and rope the twins into it, sending Miss Hunter as the messenger. (He sees right through your ploy, but still takes a bite because she’s the one offering.)

So maybe you’re not as mature as you preach to be. However, your headaches aren’t exclusive to the humans in the penthouse. 

Mephisto's permanent return to the base was a spark of joy in the bleak few months you’ve had, as he’s released from the duty of monitoring the hunter 24/7. It surprised you how much you missed the crow, realizing you’d taken his presence as one of your constant companions for granted.

The first week after his return, he sticks to your side like glue. Displeased at the hunter’s continued presence, continuing to report about her to you. Each time he catches her with Sylus he goes to show you the footage — almost like a son tattling on his father’s misdeeds. It’s a sweet gesture; clearly he’s smarter than given credit for, enough to decipher why you’ve been so downtrodden in the recent weeks. But as much as you appreciate his concern, you’re also not a masochist.

“What is it, Mephie?” You groan, abruptly woken after three grueling hours of trying to fall asleep. You would have thrown hands had you not discovered Mephisto, flapping his wings urgently.

He pecks at your cheek, showing you a hologram of Sylus and the hunter in his room, shoulders pressed together in a close proximity you were not prepared to see. “What, you want me to do something about it?” He flaps his wings in earnest, and you promptly turn around to bury your head in the pillow.

“It's none of my business!” You stubbornly burrow yourself under the blanket as he continues to squawk, “I don't want to know about the time they spend together, okay? It’s just rubbing salt into the wound.” You groggily explain, voice muffled by the pillow.

You didn’t need Mephisto to report on them — you already knew Sylus spent all his free time with her. As recalling her memories was a long shot, he turned his efforts to slowly build up their relationship again. What were once free slots in his calendar are suddenly blocked with the simple notes of ‘Miss Hunter.’ Your work dynamic has never been more out of sync, with his adjustments to the hunter’s daytime schedule after you had originally adjusted to his nights. Gone are the nights you could find him downstairs, spending the night chatting away your fears. Now, all you find are the lights turned off and a motorcycle gone from the garage.

Your voice must have taken a sad turn as the crow whimpers, nuzzling his beak into your neck to comfort you, almost like an apology. “It's okay, I know you just wanted to help.”

You let him roost on your bedside drawers, watching as he mechanically shuts down to rest. Mephisto's presence usually helps you fall asleep but tonight, you sigh as you resign yourself to a night of overthinking.

For a while, you thought that Mephie’s grudge against the hunter was one-sided. A rebellious phase, like a son’s poor reaction to his father’s new partner. So imagine your surprise when you realized she returned the sentiment.

You’re knitting on the couch, nodding along and reacting accordingly to Mephie’s squawks and accusatory pointing of his wings to the disgruntled hunter across the room.  

“She said that? Oh, I’m so sorry you had to hear that…” You dramatically cater to the crow’s concerns, “I'll talk to her for you, don’t you worry.”

“Sylus should’ve fed him to the wolves,” The hunter pokes her tongue out at the crow, who squawks in horror. “Of all the adorable, fluffy, non-feathered pets he could’ve had —”

“Ah, ah, he’s not a pet,” You correct her to appease the bird who looks as if steam is about to leave his butt. “He’s the best reconnaissance agent we have at Onychinus. Aren’t you, Mephie?” You coo at him and he flaps his wings in agreement. 

But of all the changes the hunter’s arrival brought to your life, the most unexpected development was your friendship with her.

In hindsight, it was no surprise. She may be a hunter — cutthroat and fearless, storming into the N109 Zone, wreaking havoc in the city’s most powerful crime syndicate — but you find there’s a certain bond between all freshly graduated college students. A little burned out, a little lost in life. Your similarities run deeper than your appearances, finding common ground in interests and life experiences despite having come from two different worlds.

She turns to you as a refuge within Onychinus, and in the process, she becomes yours. 

Although you loved your newfound family, a year spent with only them had perhaps led you to become a little stir crazy. You almost forgot how it was to interact with normal people your age, as your current situation and job didn’t leave you with a lot of room to feel carefree. But the hunter steps in as a breath of fresh air, taking you along on her various escapades.

“What, leaving without me?” Sylus asks with a touch of playful offense, when the hunter arrives at the Onychinus headquarters — not for him, but for you, to his comical surprise. You can see the silent question in his eyes as they flit between the two of you, and you shrug.

“Yes, now go shoo,” The hunter flicks her wrist, motioning for him to leave as she grins and slings an arm over your shoulder. “It's just me and Miss Secretary today.” 

This had all began when the hunter had been rambling about Kitty Cards, and you had stupidly made the off-hand comment, “Oh yeah, I’ve never played that before.” 

It wasn’t a lie; the real life edition of the game would be a vastly different experience to the virtual one. But the appalled look on her face sent waves of regret coursing through you, as she immediately booked a session at her favorite cat cafe.

Of course, Sylus still manages to pull one on you as you’re promptly greeted by two bodyguards from the pool of new initiates.

Your jaw drops as you turn to him, “Excuse me, do you not trust me to go out on my own?” 

“It's not you that I don't trust,” His gaze drifts over to the hunter, who glares at him in offense. “Our dear hunter, on the other hand, has a talent for finding trouble.” 

The hunter in question scoffs, “Well, why else do you think I keep you around?” She tilts her head cheekily at him, as he rolls his eyes, breathing an affectionate sigh.

Like always, it’s a casual punch to the gut. 

His gaze travels to you (almost knowing, you think) but you brush it aside and keep the neutral expression on your face. “Let’s wrap it up, you two.” You walk forward, lightly shoving your shoulder against Sylus’s, interrupting their moment. A rare moment of pettiness from you, but you think you’re entitled to it every now and then. “Shall we go? I’d like to see the Linkon sun before nightfall.”

You spend the day in Linkon where she crushes your ass repeatedly, and you’re not even offended. You were only here to see the cats, after all. It’s the perfect duo; she’s way too competitive and you don’t care about winning at all — the best of both worlds as you share the winnings, anyway, at the badge counter.

In your small world consisting of your newfound family at Onychinus, you appreciate the new friend you’ve made. An appreciation that surpasses any of the petty jealousy you may have. Time spent with the hunter means the opportunity to be a little less mature, to be silly in a way you haven’t been in a long time. You appreciate the brief reprieve, as this world has forced you to remain at 100% — keeping you at constant guard in the wake of your transmigration. 

Alongside kitty cards, she introduces you to the pop culture in this world, something you were never given a glimpse of in the game. One afternoon, you two decide to steal a set of speakers from Sylus’s study, putting on a playlist she made after learning how little you knew of mainstream music.

You’re sitting on the floor of your room, surrounded by papers as she switches the song to a soft acoustic track. “I like this one,” you comment, making a mental note to add the artist to your own playlist. 

“You don’t know them? Huh, I guess I shouldn't be surprised since you didn’t know any of the fifteen others before this…” You laugh awkwardly as she sends you the link, murmuring a soft thanks. “Did you grow up under a rock?”

“Something like that. I grew up really far from Linkon, it’s like an entirely different world there.” It wasn’t a lie. 

She never questions you further than that, to your relief. “You know, three months ago I wouldn't have dared to step into sylus’s study unless my life was at stake,” The hunter reminisces, sprawled out on your bed. “But here we are, committing casual theft.”

“You’ll learn over time he’s not as scary as he thinks he is. Especially when it comes to you. You could — I don’t know, spill your coffee on his desk, or stage a revolt against him in Onychinus, and he wouldn’t even bat an eye.”

She rolls her eyes, but you can see the faint blush coating her cheeks. “You’re exaggerating. Honestly, I was scared shitless when I first met him. Don’t tell him that,” She stares you down, and you motion to zip your mouth closed. “But I guess he’s not that bad, the more I get to know him…” 

You smile, partly out of affection and partly out of bitterness. The hunter is so obviously smitten, and you know it’s only a matter of time before she opens her heart to him.

By all means, you should be happy for them. You should be happy that your dearest friend in this world is finally getting the love and happiness he desires, that he deserves. You promised to back out of this unspoken race and let the story continue as intended — but here and now, fiddling with the beautiful necklace given to you many moons ago, you realize you have a habit of clutching onto things for far too long.

Long after the hunter leaves, you shuffle papers and calendars around to an unnecessary degree of perfection, lingering on these thoughts. Your friends, your family, your dreams, had made up the beautiful, imperfect mess that was your life. But here, beyond the walls of this place, the sad reality was there was little reason for you to stay. Little reason for you to live.

And you wonder, when she finally takes the place you hold in Sylus’s life, in Onychinus — what will be left for you in this world? 

—————————————————————

Early April showers take over the dark skies of the N109 Zone, a soft drizzle pattering against the windows of Sylus’s main office. It's a slow day, spring taking its course as Onychinus returns to a new normal with the hunter.

Stoic and focused he may seem, but Sylus’s mind is anywhere but work, drifting to the hunter and their blossoming relationship. He’s taken any and all opportunities to spend time with her. His schedule — once filled with free nights and weekends spent cozily in the penthouse — are booked back to back in any free moment he and the hunter can spare. His text messages, typically relegated to his work, become full of silly little moments as she continues to take a larger place in his life.

It’s what he wanted, isn’t it? 

So why does he feel his heart fall every time he sees the distance that’s grown between you two?

It's the 17th of April, and despite the little time you’ve spent together, he knows you already have something planned for his birthday. You haven’t breathed a word about it, but he knows that you would refuse to let it go uncelebrated, if the twins’ hushed scheming around him isn’t enough to go by.

He rests his chin on his hand, scrutinizing you, as if he could read your mind if he tried hard enough. You type away on your computer like a machine, so focused that it takes an awfully time before your eyes drift over to him, a bit alarmed at the intensity of his staring. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason at all,” He barely holds back the smirk threatening to curl at his lips. 

He can practically see the thoughts running through your head. Is he mad? Is he planning something? Can he read my mind? Until you finally look away with a resigned sigh. 

He chuckles under his breath, thinking he’s ready for whatever you have planned, when the door swings open, revealing the hunter — who was supposedly busy with work today — on a surprise visit.

“Knock knock!” She raps her knuckles against the open door, “Good evening, Miss Secretary! Or — good morning, I guess, for the both of you?”

“Did I say you could come in?” Sylus asks with his typical drawled snark.

She scoffs, throwing a smile at you before occupying his visitor’s chair, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable. “Is that any way to greet your favorite hunter, who’s so kindly come to you since you’ve been busy all week?”

He narrows his eyes, “You want something from me.” A statement, not a question. 

She sticks her tongue out at him, having clocked her immediately before she even got a word in. “A little birdie may have told me that you own an RX–116 —”

“You’re not riding it.” The answer comes automatically, eyes mechanically returning to the paperwork he’d been previously neglecting. 

“You haven’t even let me explain why…!”

“Alright, tell me. Why should I let you take Treasure — my most cherished motorcycle — out on a reckless joyride into the N109 Zone?” He crosses his arms, patiently waiting for her answer.

“Because you’re a fun–loving soul at heart, who values the happiness of his friends?” Her tone is light, fingers crossed, only to receive his deadpan stare. She huffs, “Oh, come on. I promise I'll be careful. What if you drive? If Miss Secretary can survive it, I definitely could!”

His eyes drift over to you, and you barely glance up from your screen, deigning him with a shrug. “Sorry, she asked.” He continues to stare intently at you, a silent plea he hopes you’d understand if only you’d just look up. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“…No meetings? Deadlines? Overdue paperwork? Tell me what’s on my schedule today.”

You grant him an almost knowing smile, rolling your eyes. “Since when have you cared about paperwork?” Still, you flick through the digital calendar, lazily pretending to indulge his request. “No, there’s nothing keeping you. You’re free from the clutches of work. For today,” You emphasize that last part as a subtle threat.

Still, he continues to look at you skeptically — it’s almost like he wants you to hand him more work. “I mean it, go have fun. Take a break. Since when did you care so much about skipping work?” He can almost hear you muttering, “The privileges of being a rich bastard…” as you breathe a tired sigh. 

It's true that Sylus's position affords him the privilege of passing up on the workday for his whims. Whether it be upgrading Mephisto, waiting on online auctions for vintage records, or in this case, a day out with the hunter.

It unnerves him, this side of you. Despite the stark gap in power between you, you’ve never failed to scold and banter with him, thumping him on the head more than a few times after he’d neglected the calendar. But lately, you’ve been almost… complacent with him, as if you’ve accepted something inevitable.

It's a jarring realization when he thinks about how little time he’s spent with you since the hunter’s return. Especially considering how close you had grown, how you’d spent almost every free moment with him before. A part of him knows that for one reason or another, you’ve kept your distance, and he hates it — but at the same time, the hunter was slowly opening her heart to him.

But were you really going to let him go this easily, on the eve of his birthday, when you clearly had something planned already? It was moments like these that made him wish for things to return to normal. (That made him wish to see the side of you that cared.)

“Fine,” He gives into the pleading eyes of the hunter, who cheers as he tosses her the keys. “Meet me in the garage. Careful not to go too wild, kitten.”

He shakes his head as she skips out of the room, catching one last look at you before muttering, “You two will be the death of me…” He leaves the office without looking back. 

The evening is spent racing through the outskirts of the N109 Zone, wind and rain rushing past them as Sylus takes the opportunity to show off the motor’s maximum speed. She screams, and it echoes through the empty roads. Joyously carefree, still carrying the same fire and spirit she once held in their previous lives.

But, not everything was the same. The hunter’s life was by no means easy, but she grew up in a much kinder world than the sorceress, untouched by the horrors that he and her previous iteration were irrevocably changed by. Does he even want her to remember? Would it still be love if he forced her to relive those horrors? 

His devotion to the sorceress has always been overwhelming, all-consuming. But in this life, he does not feel the same intense love, but more so a quiet affection, a desire to protect. And so, he’d rather the hunter live in peace. Never knowing the horrors of their past, even if it means that he’ll be forgotten, as well.

She urges him, “Go faster!” and he obliges with a smirk, revving up the engine to go at maximum speed. She cackles, letting go of his waist and letting her arms caress the midnight breeze. He can’t help but breathe an affectionate sigh — her dauntless, the opposite to your wariness on this very motorcycle. 

Miss Secretary. His thoughts have once again spiralled back to you, a habit that’s slipped out of his control. He's always been unwavering in his desires, but your arrival had upended his world and the foundations of what he knew about himself. And now, he no longer knows where his heart lies.

He knows it’s not fair to either of you. He feels guilty for the hunter’s oblivious nature — clueless to what almost was (what could still be) between you and him. And for you, you have done your utmost best to keep the boundaries he wasn’t strong enough to. 

He's a shameless man who’s never been afraid to take and take. But every time he sees the pain that his indecision — his choice — has caused you, he can’t help but tread carefully, wary of hurting you any more than he already has.

The clock strikes twelve, marking the beginning of April 18th. They return to a base shrouded in darkness, where they stumble around for the lights, only to be greeted by a garishly decorated living room and the twins dressed in red and black. 

“Happy birthday, boss!” The twins blow party poppers as he walks into the living room, “Didn’t expect this, did ‘ya?”

He’d been so conflicted at leaving before his birthday, when little did he know, it was all an elaborate ruse to distract him while you and the twins decorated.

“…It seems I've been deceived.” This is the first time you have ever left him truly dumbfounded.

“Surprise!” The hunter slaps him on the back, a satisfied smirk on her face. “Did you really think I was bugging you for a ride out for nothing?”

“Well, not nothing, considering you commandeered the vehicle halfway through.” She swats at him playfully in response. 

His eyes search for you, and just in time, you carefully step out of the kitchen, holding a two-tiered cake with a candle lit atop. What ensues is an off-tune rendition of happy birthday, as you step closer, careful not to extinguish the flames, “Make a wish, Sylus.” You smile. 

Since the tragic end to his life as a dragon, he’s only ever had one wish. But this year, he hesitates.

For the first time, he wishes for something else. Something new and precious. 

The flames dance in the wind before being snuffed with a single breath, smoke trailing with the promises of what’s to come.

Once again, you‘ve planned an elaborate celebration, just as you did the previous year. Something simple here at the base, but still catering to his preferences. From the tasteful red, black, and gold decorations, his favorite meals laid out on the dining table, and a pile of presents wrapped in a mishmash of patterns and ribbons.

When he takes the first bite of the cake, he lets out a hum of satisfaction, immediately noticing the gleam in the twins’ eyes.

“What, did you like it?” You smile at him cheekily, chewing through your own bite. “Luke and Kieran baked it, red velvet cheesecake with a bourbon coating.” 

The hunter scowls, still not over their previous attack on her taste buds. “Oh, so Sylus gets a fancy, artisanal cake and I get toothpaste cookies?”

Kieran grins, lightly punching her shoulder, “Don’t worry, Miss Hunter. Just wait til’ it’s your birthday.”

”Yeah! We’re more than ready to top the last one," Luke chimes in, a sinister promise no one wants to hear.

Sylus's gaze follows the hunter throughout the night. It’s the closest he’ll ever get to closure, he thinks, seeing her slot into his close circle (family) like a perfect puzzle piece, celebrating a day that never mattered to him until they made it matter. In their previous life, they had never been afforded the time or peace to celebrate these mundane milestones.

But despite the jovial atmosphere, his eyes can’t stray from your strange mood. You do a good job of pretending that everything is alright, going about the motions and matching the merry of the occasion. But though you may be able to fool others, you can’t fool him. After the party has come to an end, he doesn’t leave your side — determined to know what’s been bothering you. 

“Hey, no cleaning for the birthday celebrant!” You lightly shoo him away with the broom as he tries to take over cleaning the living room.

“Oh? I say the birthday celebrant gets to decide that for himself,” He easily swipes the broom from your hands, and you huff, relegated to picking up the wrapping paper strewn about the floor.

“Stubborn bastard,” You mutter under your breath. 

“A little louder, dear. I couldn't hear you.” You scowl at him and he laughs, “I can't let you do all the work, no? What kind of boss would I be, then? Tsk, if only you had just left it to the cleaners like I told you to.”

Still, you resolve to finish cleaning. It’s a bit comical seeing him with a broom and dustpan, and on his birthday, of all days. Still, you assert that it would be too rude to leave all this work for the cleaners’ shift come morning. With the two of you working at it, by the time the hour’s up you wouldn’t have been able to tell a celebration occurred.

“Let's go to the rooftop,” Sylus suggests, after taking out the trash. “I feel like taking a breath of fresh air.”

The two of you walk up the familiar staircase to the rooftop, the highest point in the N109 Zone, where you’ve spent many nights deprived of sleep and spilling your deepest fears and nightmares. 

“Watch your head.”

“What are you— ow!” You bump your head on a new exit sign that hadn’t been there the last time you came.

He laughs breathily, rubbing your forehead with his thumb after he perfectly ducks under the sign. “I did warn you.” 

“It feels like forever since we’ve been up here.”

“It's also been quite a while since I’ve seen you.”

You laugh shakily, “What are you talking about? We’re in the office every day…”

“Don’t act like you don’t understand, it’s unbecoming of your intelligence,” He brushes a stray hair from your face.

“Well, what can I say? We’ve all been so busy lately… But you seem happy, though.” He remains silent, so you continue, “You’ve waited so long to reunite with her. I've never believed in soulmates or anything like that, but for you two, I just might. I’m happy for you,” A timid smile paints your face, and he can’t tell if it’s out of bitterness or soft appreciation. 

He doesn’t know how to feel, receiving your approval — feigned as it may be. “If that's so, do you believe it for yourself?” You look at him strangely. “Do you think you could have a soulmate?”

The question seems to weigh heavily on your mind as you look away, dangling your feet aimlessly, “Maybe so… But I like to think that love is a choice. Something that’s earned, built up over time. That's the kind of love that I want, at least.”

His heart has been conflicted for so long — but all of a sudden, you feel unreachable, slipping from his grasp into a territory uncharted. (All of a sudden, he wants to give you everything you wish for.)

“It's been a while since we’ve talked like this. It’s nice being able to spend time with you again.” You stand up, brushing non-existent dirt off your thighs. “But I better head to bed.” 

It’s a lie, you both know you’ll spend the night tossing and turning into the hours of the night; so he tries to push at the walls you’ve put up. “Come on, dear. It's my birthday. Just grace me with your presence for a few more minutes…”

He tries not to sound desperate, but all he wants to do is reverse time, to return to a period where you weren’t wary of spending time with him. He'd been spoiled by the affection and friendship you once offered so freely, and now he couldn’t bear this distance you stubbornly held in place. 

He reaches to grab your hand, but you pull yours away. 

You hesitate before turning around, “I'm sorry, Sylus. But maybe another night.” Your voice is soft as you say good night, his eyes stuck on the image of you walking further away until you disappear from sight. 

He wants so badly to pull you back, yearns to grab your hand once again, to feel the warmth of your palm against his. But he knows he has no right to. The presence of the hunter a few doors over says it all, says his choice. He can’t bear to hurt you any more than he already has. But at the same time, he can’t bear to lose you.

So instead, he watches you walk away, knowing that he’s chosen the hunter, his soulmate. But a part of his heart continues to yell at him, telling him he’s making a grave mistake. 

—————————————————————

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the overstimulating atmosphere of the underground ring. The flashing lights, the all-consuming noise in the hours before a match starts. It's been months since you’ve been here, but it’s clear that anticipation runs high in the crowds, with this being Sylus's first game since last year’s loss. 

You sniffle, holding back a sneeze as you approach the ring with a bouquet of flowers, waiting patiently for Sylus to break from his pre-game focus as the coach gives him a last minute pep talk.

His eyes eventually drift over to you as he takes a sip of water, “Oh? Look who showed up." He smirks at you, arms leaning against the barrier, “And here I thought you’d be a no-show after last year’s disappointment.”

“What can I say? It’s a crime to pass up on an easy bet.” 

“I'm touched by your faith in me,” Unlike his words, his tone is deadpan.  

You mockingly scoff, “Who said I placed my bets on you?” You say this, but both of you know who you’re rooting for. “I just thought I might as well wish you good luck, considering I used my PTO on this.”

“Trust me, dear.” His smirk is one of confidence, as he leans past the barrier, face inching towards yours. “By the end of the night, there’ll be a new champion reigning this ring.”

A sudden screech comes from behind — some sort of ongoing venue prep — and your face scrunches up, another headache coursing through you. 

“Are you okay?” His brows furrow as he calls your name, concerned at the deep circles under your eyes, the pale sheen to your face. “Maybe you should sit down. You don’t look well.”

“I'll be fine,” You wave him off, “It’s just a headache. I can champ through it.” 

“But is it wise for you to stand in these crowds?” He removes his glove, pressing a hand against your forehead. “Go sit down in the locker room, they’ll be airing the match inside. I don't need you in the stands to know you’re supporting me.” 

The increasing dizziness you feel is the only reason why you nod, picking up your things and doing as told without so much as a fight. His eyes follow your sluggish form until you make it past his sight, settling inside the rundown locker room to watch alongside other competitors and coaches.

Even though you’ve been continuously sneezing and feel like knocking out, you’re on your toes the entire match, even from the low quality screen delegated to the locker room. The crowd is just as enthusiastic, roaring for his revenge match. You know nothing about boxing, but even you can tell from the first few minutes alone that he’s doing well, performing better than he ever was as the cheers of the crowd pound through to the walls of this secluded room. The camera shifts as he overtakes his opponent — and that’s when you see it, a glimpse of the hunter cheering at the front row. 

You already expected her presence, was anticipating to sit by her side as the both of you cheered Sylus on. But a part of you feels sick, lightheaded, progressively dizzier as the match continues. Not just because of the hunter’s arrival, or the anxiety of seeing Sylus getting socked in the face — you realize as you feel the bile rising up your throat. 

The match ends as you walk out of the bathroom, contents of your stomach flushed down the toilet. You missed the final blow, the crowning moment, the television having switched to an interview. His voice fills the room, the audio muffled and crackly, “Someone came all the way here to watch me. Said she didn’t want to see me lose.” 

You recognize that look of adoration, reserved only for the hunter. And once again, you feel your stomach lurch. 

It's a weak moment for you — you want to stay, to cheer him on as his friend and supporter (the only things you were and would ever be to him). But it was too much for you, seeing her take the place that maybe, in another life, could have been yours.

You guiltily leave the bouquet in the locker rooms, slipping away easily into the swarm of crowds leaving the venue. You pass by the ring as you make your way to the exit, seeing him at the edge of the barricade, swarmed by reporters.

In the ring, he shines like a star far out of your reach.

Was this penance for your pride? For believing you could take the spot of someone who was long destined to be by his side? The last image you see is of his arm wrapped around her waist, lips pressed to her forehead — his attention, his gravity, tethered to her. 

You leave the underground stadium guilt-free, feeling a little silly for having doubts about your departure affecting him. You realize that no matter what you do, he’ll be fine.

He has the hunter now.

—————————————————————

The moment he steps out of the ring, lights flashing and reporters crowding to get his interview — the first thing he sees is the hunter, standing front row in the bleachers, cheering him on with her fist in the air. His arm stays around her waist as they celebrate his win, answering nosy interviewers and being crowned with the champion’s ring.

He should be filled with nothing but happiness, satisfaction. But right now, all he could think of was finding you.

He fiddles with the champion’s ring, a nervous tic he’d never dare show to the naked eye as he makes his way to the locker room, where he finds an intricate bouquet of flowers and a congratulatory note, written in your familiar penmanship. 

It seems his greed had become far too overwhelming. 

Faced with all his wishes coming true, he still yearns for more. Everything he ever wanted was coming together, but none of it felt right — not with your absence creating a gaping void in a picture perfect image. 

Disheartened by your absence, the dim mood follows him as he returns to a quiet home. He carefully steps inside, your snores filling the space as he finds you sprawled on the living room couch, still dressed in your outside clothes, skin dull and face tightened in discomfort. 

He lifts you up, beginning the trek to your bedroom to let you sleep away the rest of the night, only for you to stir awake in his arms. “Sylus?” You peek at him through bleary eyes, “You’re home…”

He places the back of his hand against your forehead, “You’re burning up. Did you take any medicine before falling asleep?” 

“I'm sorry I couldn’t stay for the match…” In your drowsy state, you don’t hear his question, instead nuzzling your head into his chest. He savors the feeling of your warmth. “Did you get my flowers?”

“I did. They were a beautiful choice.”

“That's good. You deserve only the best, after all.” Your voice is a little breathy, soft and tender in ways you never reveal to him anymore — and he couldn’t help but be a little lovestruck. 

“You know just how to flatter me, don’t you?” He lays you down gently, tucking the covers over your form, as he musters the courage to follow through with his thoughts. “But since you brought me flowers, I should give something in thanks.” 

He slides the champion’s ring off his finger, delicately placing it in your palm, closing your fingers over it. “I believe this should be yours.”

“Sylus, what is this?” Your face is still unnaturally pale, but you seem more lucid now, staring at the ring with an unreadable expression on your face.

“There's only one reason I left as a champion today, and she’s standing right in front of me.” His eyes are glued intently to yours, water still streaking from his hair after the quick shower he took before leaving. “Last year’s match was a blow to my pride, I'll admit. But how could I ever stay down with you by my side?”

It’s rare for him to display his fondness on a silver platter — not painted in wit or banter, but with the clarity of an open window into his heart. But something about you wills him to take steps he never has before.

You stay silent for an unnerving amount of time, turning away from him, overwhelmed by the depth of his gaze. Your face contorts into a fractured smile, “I think we both know who you should really give this to.

He stares at the ring, refusing to take it from your outstretched hand. a strained laugh leaves his lips. He gently grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him once again, “You won’t even accept gifts from me, now? How much will you pull away from me before you’re satisfied?” 

“I can't accept this, and you know why.”

He knows. Just like he knows why you stray from his touch, why you avoid his gaze. He knows, but he refuses to accept it. 

“I went into this match for you. I won it for you, not the hunter.” A frantic sort of grief fills his features, imploring you to open your heart to him. “So why is it that you keep telling me to run to her? What makes you believe you’re undeserving?” 

“Because it shouldn’t be me. I just—” The words fail to form on your tongue, twisting and turning until the intention is lost. “Please, sylus. I can't do this right now.” 

“I didn't think your cowardice was stronger than our friendship.” 

You come to an abrupt still, your eyes glazing over in stifled shock. “Well, I'm sorry to have disappointed you.” 

Regret immediately courses through him as he realizes the harshness of his words, and the guardedness of your tone. He hates causing you hurt or pain, but he can no longer bear to ignore the distance that's grown between you. (But does he even have the right to confront you about it? When he knows his actions are the root cause.) 

“We can't hide from this forever, so why won’t you just talk to me?” He's just about ready to beg for you to look at him again, to talk to him again, without the inhibitions that separate you now. 

You take a deep breath, a hundred thoughts running through your mind before you settle on simple words, “Because things can’t go back to normal, and I don't know if they ever will.” You turn around, effectively ending the conversation and drawing that dreaded line. “I'd like to be alone now, please.” 

It’s not irreparable; at least, you don’t think so. But regardless of the place the hunter now holds in your life, you had crossed a turning point in your relationship, one that made it impossible to turn back. This was the price of his choice; he couldn’t have his cake and eat it, too.

Despite how much he wants to confront you, more than anything he wants to respect the boundaries you’ve set in place. And so, Sylus is left to stew in his thoughts in the living room, fiddling with the ring and wondering why he wouldn’t just give the ring to the hunter. Why he caused all of this mess. (He knows exactly why.)

The bond he had with the hunter transcended lifetimes, giving his soul a first taste of human connection and love. He grasped at the seams of that bond, holding on for dear life and desperately seeking the peace they were never afforded. But your arrival broke the monotony of his days, and in the process, treated him to that connection, that genuine acceptance and care so freely. You easily slotted into his life, and now that you were trying to walk away — he couldn’t just bear to let you go.

He may have fallen in love with the sorceress in their previous life, but now, it was time to face his current reality. 

In this world, his heart had chosen you. 

—————————————————————

You feel like you're being replaced, being pushed out of the picture you were never meant to be captured in.

For the longest time, you’ve felt the petty urge to hate the hunter. To pick out her flaws and shortcomings to make yourself feel better. But that wouldn’t be fair to her, who’s done nothing but unknowingly capture Sylus's heart. And it would only fan the flames of bitterness and hurt that were already burning inside you.

You stomp at the petty jealousy taking root in your heart — because what right do you have to feel that way? What right do you have to mourn a love that was never yours to begin with? 

You feel rather foolish. You thought you knew what his affection felt like, but it was nothing compared to seeing his devotion. You never believed in soulmates — but how could you deny the cosmic connection before your very eyes? Like a planet and its moon, they orbit each other — his harsh edges softening in her presence.

Sylus gave you hope for a future in this world. But to him, you must be just one of many, a buffer while he waits for his lover to finally come along in this life. He was someone who had never known peace, never known the warmth of love before he met her. In the grand scheme of things, what was your rust to her gold? 

These fantasies have become fatal, cutting open old wounds and deeply hidden thoughts. Never have you felt so untethered. No place where you belonged, no place to call home, no connection that was meant to be truly yours. Your world had been shrouded in static in the wake of losing your loved ones, life becoming grainy and distant in your grief. The loneliness had been dampened by new connections, by a blossoming love, but was now coming back in full force as you watch the image of how it should be, without you.

You were never meant to be here. 

(Thus, it was only right to return things to how they should be.)

—————————————————————

Thunder rolls in, casting gloomy skies over the N109 Zone. it’s one of those days where you can’t muster up the energy to do anything but curl up on the couch with a blanket, paperwork left forgotten on the coffee table, watching raindrops dart against the tall windows overlooking the city. 

The twins are similarly sprawled across the living room floor. With Sylus and Mephisto out on a mission, it’s just the three of you in the penthouse, spending the last of the spring showers working by the warmth of the fireplace, before humid summer storms take over. 

The dreary atmosphere did nothing to quell the persistent grief that weighed heavily in your chest. Not even the comforting presence of Luke and Kieran could muster a smile on your face, these days. 

Your eyelids start to flutter, the movie and the twins’ chatter becoming hazy as you drift into slumber, where once again, you dream of home.

You find yourself thinking about home much more, nowadays. You miss the sun, you miss the food, the warmth of company (the lack of doubt of your belongingness). But as always, you wake up to the cars and gunshots typical of the N109 Zone, the rain having slowed to a soft drizzle, pattering against the window. 

You spend a little while with your eyes closed, savoring the taste of home only a dream can capture, a feeling that slips through your fingers before you can truly grasp it. And once again, you wish for a clue, a hint, an answer to a way back home. 

Little did you know how soon this wish would be granted.

You stretch your arms out, coming to a slow rise from the couch, remembering the pile of paperwork that awaited you on the coffee table. You sigh as you see the other half; it seems the twins hadn’t gotten much done either, their papers getting mixed up with yours during your short nap. you take quick, mindless glances at the papers — your events and supply documentation, the twins’ mission reports — as you sort through them. 

One in particular slides out from the pile, and you pick it up, intending to place it on their side of the table — only to stop in your tracks, catching a single phrase. Dimensional travel. 

You shouldn’t be snooping. As Sylus's secretary, you’re already privy to most of the ongoings in Onychinus. You know that if something’s been kept from you, it’s for a reason. But as your mind flits over all the dead ends you’ve run into in your search to go home, you think — what’s the harm in taking a look?

Your blood stills. 

What greets you is the twins’ hasty scrawl, recounting their findings as they led a reconnaissance mission at an EVER lab on the outskirts of the N109 Zone. Test subjects who were found in public, on the brink of death. Who spoke of “other worlds.” Unfortunate individuals who were found somewhere more public, deemed a nutcase, and left vulnerable to the hands of EVER. In Kieran’s more formal penmanship are the words, “These findings are supported by the classified dimensional travel studies at Prestara University…”

And when you see the date of the mission — it’s from the previous year.

Why did no one tell you about this? 

All of you were smart enough to connect the dots. Near-death experiences, tales of other worlds. Here you were, searching on what seemed to be a fool’s errand, when the people you slept under the same roof with held the very answers you’d been so desperately seeking.

An eerie feeling settles over you (you don’t want to name it as betrayal) as you look over the papers, reading them over and over, thinking there’s no way this had been just out of reach, all these months.

On the dot, the twins return to the living room with bags of snacks in their arms, Luke with his typical cheer as Kieran stills, seeing the papers in your hand. “Miss Secretary, you’re finally awake. Do you want a snack —” 

“What is this?” You cut him off, uncharacteristically stoic as you raise up the stapled reports, still reeling from shock at the words you’ve just read. “Your mission reports… These are from a year ago. Why didn’t I know about this? 

The two worriedly look at each other in silent communication, before you ask again, fed up with the lies and secrecy. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

“Luke, she read the reports. She knows.”

“But the boss said — Fine. But don’t blame me when this ends badly.” He sighs before giving in, turning to look you in the eye. “I think it’s better if we show you. But… Please don’t be mad at the boss.” 

“No  more than you already are,” Kieran adds, and you look at him skeptically. “We know you two are fighting. It’s been torture seeing you guys mope! The boss has been burying everyone in work and you… You’ve been a shell of yourself.”

You open your mouth, ready to spout excuses, but he interrupts you. “Don’t deny it, we can see it for ourselves. Especially with the way the boss has been grovelling.” 

“Sylus has not been grovelling. He has better things to do with his time.” You roll your eyes, but they continue to stare at you in doubt, until you sigh and let up.

“Alright. so we may have had a… slight disagreement. But really, I've just been in a funk. A little homesick, and a little actually sick. That's all. But you know what will help me?” You raise up the reports once again, flipping to the research page. “Show me these case studies. Show me everything there is to know about this.” 

“Well, we tried.” Kieran lets out a tired exhale, “If knowing this will help you, then we’ll do it.”

The twins lead you into their wing of the penthouse, a territory you never dared to venture unless it was dire circumstances— which it very well feels like it is now.

“Welcome to our little abode!” Luke cheers as he swings the doors open. 

“Oh, how… charming.” 

You tiptoe around the communal living area, unable to distinguish what is a weapon for Onychinus and a personal invention they’ve made for an elaborate prank. Frankly, it’s a mess. Apparently teenage boys are the same type of disgusting in any universe, you cringe as you find a smelly article of clothing on his desk that's definitely overdue for a wash. Only the promise of answers holds back your urge to hand these kids a broom and force them to clean.

“Over here’s my desk. Go wild, I guess. I'll be in the other room if you need anything.” 

Your heart races as you’re left to your own devices, inputting the related mission code — and there it is. A wealth of information answering the questions you’ve had. 

You skim over the articles, all from the same research team, studying the phenomenon of dimensional travelers, as they’ve so aptly put it, and their possible connection to the Deepspace Tunnel.

But the most damning implication of them all, was that there was a way for you to return home. The researchers are positive they’re close to a breakthrough, they write, as they cite the commonalities between these travelers. If a close encounter with death is what brought them all here, then it only makes sense it can bring them back. 

But this is where the trail ends. The last article ends with the researchers discussing potential experimentation — the risks of being lost in the unknown boundary between worlds, ripped to shreds by the force of gravity, or better yet — just dying. With it, your hope dims. 

But it’s something. Nothing concrete, but enough to prove you weren’t crazy. Enough to have hope. Enough to try.

But the question remains… how could this have possibly slipped past you? You’ve researched every corner of info available to you in the Onychinus database. 

As Sylus's secretary, you’re granted the privileges to access almost everything in Onychinus, including the information databases which contain a wealth of information from various sources (legally and illegally obtained, many inaccessible to the public yet). And when you check the status of the articles — you see that your access has been blacklisted.

As it was, there was only one person in Onychinus with the power to do this. 

“Sylus put you up to this, didn’t he?” When your eyes turn to Luke in question, he only nods grimly in confirmation. 

“The boss asked us to keep it from you,” He almost looks like a sad puppy wagging his tail, trying to appease your increasingly irate mood. “He was only worried about what you might do if you found out about this.” 

“He should’ve worried about what I’d do if you kept this from me.” You spat bitterly, and immediately, guilt coils through you for misplacing this anger on Luke. The twins might have been in on it, but despite all their mischief, they would never have had the heart to lie to you. No, this was all Sylus's doing.

You walk away, as overwhelming waves of betrayal course through you. You don’t want to make assumptions, but there is no other possible truth. It’s almost uncharacteristic of him, you think. He's always supported whatever you wanted to do. So why would he do this now? 

Why hide the answers that would lead you back home? 

And if he hid this from you, what else could he be hiding? 

These thoughts continue to plague you into the late hours of the night. Hours of tossing and turning in the sheets, before giving up on slumber entirely. Before, you would tiptoe in the marbled halls in search of laughter and company. But things were no longer the same. Now, you lock yourself in silence, refusing to bare any more of your heart.

But there still comes some nights such as now, when you can’t stifle the dark creeping in. Like a sheep heading into the wolves’ den, you tiptoe out of your bedroom, making your way to the kitchen where you cope as you always have: by baking. 

As you pull out the ingredients, Sylus eventually comes strolling in, as if he had a sixth sense to your presence. 

“Can’t sleep again?” He asks groggily. Hair mussed and robe crumpled, it was clear he had already been in bed. His tone is careful, still tiptoeing around you after the mess of a conversation you last had after the match.

You nod tiredly, “Too much to think about.” You’re being uncharacteristically cold to him, not even turning around or looking at him in acknowledgement. But if he notices, he doesn’t show it. 

All you want is a moment alone. But already, he’s coming far too close to you — invading your space like he’s entitled to it, when all you want is to be as far away from him as possible. 

“Let me help you.” He says, grabbing the bowl from behind you and rolling a whisk in his other hand. “It'll just be like old times, don’t you think? Miss Baker, with her apprentice running the ovens.” 

You can’t help the anger simmering beneath you as you slam the cupboards closed, alarming him. Can you not get one moment of peace in this fucking household? “You know what? I think I'll just go to bed, actually.”

He lets out a breath of frustration. "Alright, it’s clear that there’s a problem here.” He grabs your hand to stop you from leaving, only for you to rip it from his grasp. He steps back, “I admit that I said some hurtful things before, and I'd like to apologize properly. But can we sit down and talk about this like civilized people?”

You know it’s wrong to lash out like this, but this betrayal had you reeling and acting out impulsively. A crash-out long in the works, tipped over by your recent revelation. “Always one to ask forgiveness rather than permission, aren’t you?”

“What?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, utterly confused. “I don't know why you continually insist on shutting me out — but I assure you, nothing productive will come out of this.” 

A bitter laugh escapes you, “Well, I don’t know why you insist on lying to me. But I'm not the one asking questions here.”

“What are you talking about?” His blood runs cold, gaze steely as he begins to tread carefully through this volley of words. 

“Did you think I'd never find out about the information you hid from me? That you ordered Luke and Kieran to lie to me about? How much have you hidden from me?” You seethe, the words spilling out of you like an overflowing kettle. 

His silence says it all. 

“Gosh, I guess it figures.” You don’t know whether to laugh in irony or cry in defeat. “The one person I trusted the most turned out to be a lying bastard… I don't know why I expected any better from you.” 

Sometimes you forget the person Sylus truly is, beyond the softness he’s shown to you in confidence. He may be flowing with unspoken affection for those he cares for, but in the end, he was still a criminal. The leader of the world’s most notorious crime syndicate, gifted in the art of deceit.  

But despite this, Sylus was still the person who took you in when you had nowhere else to go. The one person you trusted more than anyone in this world. Although his blossoming relationship with the hunter sprouted thorns over your friendship, you thought that you’d at least have total honesty. 

But your expectations crumble into disappointment. 

Sylus treats this exchange flippantly, at first, trying to stave off a fight he doesn’t want to have. But you’re so frustrated, you can’t even look him in the eye. Though his face gives away nothing, a storm was brewing inside as the consequences of his actions dawned on him.

And so, he decides to tell you the truth. 

He whispers your name carefully, like an apology in itself. “I'm sorry I lied to you. It was never my intention to deceive you, or to hold you back from finding answers — but I know I've hurt you nonetheless. But please, let’s not fight about this. Let me explain myself, first.”

You turn to him, waiting for an answer that will resolve the hurt in your heart. 

He doesn't know where to begin, so he starts with an explanation. 

When you first arrived, Sylus had done the research. Tried to find a way to send you — this anomaly who’d landed in his backyard — back to where she belonged. But all he could find were dead ends. As far as he knew, there was no way to send you back. You, this stranger, who he wanted out of his life. (Oh, how the thought hurts him now.)

Almost a year later, when the dimensional travel research came in — he immediately marked it as classified. A spur of the moment decision, where he blocked off your access to these files in fear of you discovering them. He excuses it as the danger, the potential recklessness that might possess you in the face of this revelation.

But the truth was: you were no longer just a stranger, you were Miss Secretary. A core part of his life, regardless of the short time you’d been here. Maybe if he was less in-deep, if the reality of you slipping from his grasp wasn’t so tangible, he wouldn’t have resorted to deceit.  But as it was, there was no way he was letting you go now. 

After all, the fear of lying to you was nothing compared to the fear of losing you forever. (But now, he may just lose you because of it.)

His explanations ring through your head, but all you hear are excuses. You fire back, words slow and tense like a string stretched thin. “You think you’re always right, but you’re not. That's not an excuse to withhold this from me. Living in the N109 Zone is a danger in itself, so what’s so different about this?” 

He scoffs, “The difference is that here, you are by my side. Do you think I can't protect you?”

“It's not your responsibility to protect me. In fact, I've long overstayed my welcome here.”

“Says who?” His eyes stare intently into yours, as he opens his arms, “Look around, dear. The only person who wants you to leave is you.”

He shakes his head, frustrated, “Do you even understand what could happen to you if you pursue this path? This not only blurs the boundary between our worlds, but the boundary between life and death. You could die before ever seeing a glimpse of your old world,” A frantic panic shadows his eyes as he moves forward, shaking you by the shoulders, almost begging you not to do this.

“At least I'd finally have some peace!” You spat out like a bullet that’s been lodged in your chest, a truth so hard to bear. Every day in this world has been an uphill battle, and no connection — whether familial or romantic — could make up for everything you had lost, or the closure you had seeked.

“You don’t mean that.” He murmurs in disbelief, the broken look on his face enough to have your shoulders slumped in guilt.

He tries — you know he does — to close the distance that you have placed. But a sadistic part of you likes to see him hurt, likes to see him struggle to repair what he unintentionally broke. But the other part of you just wants to spare yourself from any more hurt. 

You’ve never been the type to cling to your pride, but not even you can acquiesce to this when you feel so wronged.

“Do you even understand what this information means to me?” Your voice trembles in desperation, “You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything. I cared about my life. I had dreams, I had plans! My family and friends, they all probably think I’m missing or dead — when I'm just here, trying to get back to them. Yet you have the audacity to pretend like you did this for my sake?”

To him, your arrival was a miracle. Another surprise fate had thrown his way, something he was determined not to let slip from his grasp this time around.

But to you, your arrival in this world was your greatest tragedy.

In spite of it all, he puts his foot down, refusing to put your life on the line. “No, this is where I draw the line. You will not be pursuing this — this death wish, and that’s final.” He doesn’t realize how tightly he’s gripped your shoulders until he steps back from the sheer betrayal in your eyes. 

For the first time, you look at him as if he were no more than a stranger. Like you didn’t know him, hadn’t held him in your arms in his lowest moments. He could handle the hunter’s anger and distrust, your distance and aloofness. But your fear? It breaks him. 

Still, he swallows this heartbreak in favor of your safety. “Ignore me, hate me — I'm willing to put up with all of it so long as you don’t hurt yourself.” 

“Well, what fucking choice do I have when you control everything in this goddamned place?” You close your eyes and laugh bitterly, whispering, “I guess I never knew you as well as I thought I did.”

You walk away, and he knows better than to chase you. 

All this time, you had felt guilty for hurting him with your distance, for being an obstacle in the space that was meant for the hunter. Meanwhile, he had been the one barricading you from going back. But why? You cannot comprehend as to why he would be selfish enough to try and keep you here, not when he has everything he’s ever wanted.

Your thoughts continue to spiral as you return to your room– and for the first time, you feel more peace in the silence than in his company.

—————————————————————

He sits in the kitchen until early noon, stewing in disappointment and anger towards himself. 

Sylus is hailed for his ability to read people. His target’s desires, his enemy’s weaknesses, his loved ones’ needs. Yet when it comes to you, he finds himself lost at sea, in conflict with himself in a way he hasn’t been since he was unused to the world and its dangers. 

For the past millennia, he’d had a clear focus, a clear goal — until you strolled in and completely upended his world and everything he thought he knew. 

And what’s worse? He would let you do it as many times as you wanted. 

He knows this won’t be resolved so easily. Both of you are the type whose true feelings cannot be encapsulated by mere words. And when the storm inevitably rolls in, he’s afraid of what might be lost in the collateral. Because now, he was far too gone. 

Losing the sorceress had nearly broken him once, sent him on a search that had clouded his realization of the place you’d taken in his heart. The realization that he couldn’t bear to live without those mundane moments with you.

He knows, here and now, that he needs to fix this. Right his wrongs, clear things with the hunter, and maybe beg at your feet for you to look at him kindly again, after all he’s done to push you away. Before it's too late and he lets love slip from his grasp once again. 

—————————————————————

The ballroom is lit under the warm glow of the numerous chandeliers, casting light over your stone cold face. The opulent celebration — a business partner’s 40th wedding anniversary — was a complete juxtaposition to the storm raging inside you, uncaring to be approachable as you swirl your wine. 

In a twist of cruel irony, another event had delegated Sylus to bring a partner for the evening.

“We'll be leaving at 8 o’clock. Use my card for the dress — and treat yourself, while you’re at it.” He informed you, placing one of his cards on your desk along with the invitation. You raised an eyebrow in skepticism, he never spared time for frivolous events such as anniversaries, especially for people he barely knew.

“What, the hunter wasn’t free this time around?” You can’t help but ask, the snark evident in your tone.

He sighs and walks away, not even deigning that with a response. “Don’t be late.”

You shove the invite into a drawer, fully intent on ditching him. But alas — he added it to the calendar himself.

You were expecting him to hand you another half-hearted apology, to add to the growing pile that was already accumulating. Apology flowers left at your desk, paperwork submitted on time, deliveries of chocolates and your favorite food at the office, as his eyes suspiciously don’t meet yours. 

“If you think you can bribe me with material things, then you don’t know me very well,” You bitterly threw these words at him then, before clocking out for the day. But Sylus was never one to give up easily. 

Throughout the night, you feel the constant prickle of eyes on your back. At first, you assume it’s because of past events, people’s curiosity towards the secretary Sylus was so quick to defend. Your insecurity has you turning around each time — only to meet your employer’s gaze across the room, his eyes lingering on you even with the conversation in front of him. You scoff and look away.

Eventually, he approaches you with your coat in hand, “I believe it’s time to take our leave.”

“So early?” You reply, your words short and cutting when it's necessary to speak. 

“This night has already proven to be a disappointment. No reason to waste any more of our time.”

“I'll call for the driver then,” You’re about to dial when he plucks your phone out of your hand. 

“No need, I've already given him the night off. I'll be the one driving us home.” You squawk in indignance. Once again, this man has managed to corner you into a situation where you can’t escape him. “But, dinner first, shall we?” He extends a hand, which you resolutely walk past.

This seething ignorance follows him the whole way to the restaurant, into the dimly lit private room where the two of you are seated. Had it been any other occasion, you would’ve taken the time to appreciate the florals adorning the tables, the band playing jazz in the corner, and the delicious food. But your anger clouds your enjoyment, as you channel your frustrations into blindly ordering the most expensive items on the menu. 

It isn’t until you’re about halfway through the meal and down one bottle of wine when he finally gets you to speak up, “You can’t stay mad at me forever, darling.”

You take a heavy breath through your nose, “Maybe not, but I can certainly try.” You take another sip of your wine, burying your hurt and sorrow into another bottle. 

“You should realize that I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness.” 

“You broke my trust. You lied by omission, letting me continue on a wild goose chase when you were withholding the answers. Pretty words and extravagant gifts aren’t enough to earn my trust again.”

He gently reaches for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. “I know that, and I'm willing to do it all to earn your forgiveness. Not only for my deception, but all your hurts that have gone unnoticed.”

It’s too much, your chest feels too heavy with all that’s bearing down on you. Your voice takes a shaky note, “Sylus, all I want is to go home. That’s it.”

You put up the boundaries he never had the heart to, kept your heart at bay for both of your sakes. But now, he wants to pry open your walls, to reveal the fears that plague you at night.  

“I know, dear. I know. And if that’s what you truly want, then I promise to do everything in my power to help you —- so long as it doesn’t result in you getting hurt.” He looks into your eyes, grasping your hand tightly, “All I want is for you to feel safe in confiding in me again — to share your worries, your fears, as you once did. Allow me to carry the weight of your grief with you.”

He knows how much your arrival in this world hurt you, and he carries the guilt of being selfish enough to keep you here despite that.

“I can't anymore. It hurts too much to confide in you, to have a taste of what I know I'll never have. What we’ll never be.” You don’t know what possesses you to admit this yearning. Maybe the intoxication from the wine. Maybe his pleading eyes, or his sweet talk, saying all the right words you’ve wanted to hear for the longest time. But you don’t have any fight left in you to keep your distance. 

“What you can’t have? Darling, I would lay the world at your feet, if that was your wish,” He strokes your cheek with an intimacy surpassing friendship — but you haven’t been just friends in a while, have you? 

Maybe you both drank a little too much, scooted a little too close in the booth, got too caught up in each other's presence (something you've both been starved of for a while). You don’t know who moved first — but one of you ends up breaking. 

You share a starved kiss, hidden under the privacy of dim lights. All at once, the chatter of the restaurant and the rushing of cars dissipate, and all that's left in this universe is you and him and cosmic dust, orbiting around each other.

He explores your mouth, brows furrowed, hands gripping your waist and pulling you to his lap — as if he could meld the two of you by the flesh. It’s like a taste of heaven on your lips, tasting what you had yearned for, denied yourself for so long.

And for a moment you think: what was stopping you from being together? What was so wrong with this connection — so powerful that it wracked your body with shivers and tethered your soul to his presence? 

And then you remember: the hunter.

The reality of what's happening dawns on you, your eyes widening mid-kiss as you abruptly push him away, leaving him stunned; his tie crooked, lipstick staining the corner of his lips. 

Your hands tremble, still hazy from that searing kiss as you try to hold back the tears welling at your eyes, “Sylus —” You choke on your tears, unable to form the words. 

He grasps your face, breathing your name, trying to make sense of what just happened. 

“Sylus, oh god, what did we just do? I — fuck, what about the hunter?”

You run outside the private room, the voices of the restaurant and servers fading in the distance as you hastily escape from the implications of what you’ve just done. You try to hail a taxi when he catches up to you, calling your name.

He may be in front of you but all you see is the hunter, her face riddled with betrayal and hurt. Unlabeled as their relationship may be, she’s just spent the past few weeks opening her heart to someone only for it to be betrayed. By a new friend, at that.

You don’t know what possessed you to kiss him back, to deepen it and lose yourself in his lips. Love struck your head, ridding you of logic. Made you give in to the sin of yearning for something that isn’t yours. And now, you were facing the guilty consequences. 

“Sylus, we’ve done enough. Please, let’s just forget that any of this ever happened —-”

You’re cut off by his hollow laugh, his chin tilting down for his eyes to stare directly into yours. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

“This is gonna ruin everything you’ve wished for, don’t you see?” You’re desperate for him to see the wrongdoing in your actions. 

“No, it’s you who doesn’t see what’s in front of you.” He grasps your wrist, pressing it to his chest, gentle in a way that doesn’t match the fire in his eyes. “Do you feel this heart? It races in your presence, melts at your touch — and if you disappeared? Well, it would simply stop beating.”

His other hand rests on your clavicle, fiddling with the necklace that has remained on your neck since the night of your birthday. He's a man who never says please, but for you he’ll get on his knees and plead.

His words, such heartfelt words that want to make you give in to all of his wishes are one thing. But his actions are another. You’ve witnessed firsthand the way he looks at her, melts in her presence. And you’re not ignorant to how she feels for him now, once heated frustration turning into the adoration she feels now. 

“How could I ever believe what you’re saying?” You feel almost hysterical, with the weight of your emotions crashing down on you. “You’re telling me that you’ve waited hundreds of years for the love of your life, the person bonded to your soul, and you’re going to push it all away for some fleeting connection?”

“Don’t reduce it to something as frivolous as that,” His face darkens, and he grips your hand tighter. “You know that what we have runs deeper than both of us can describe.”

”But what is it to a soulmate?” Your voice is despondent, resigned, “What is this compared to a bond transcending time and space? I know that regardless of what happens here, you’ll choose her. I know that very well, Sylus.” Your voice breaks as you reach your tipping point. 

His heart stills, because he himself doesn’t know what he can say to prove himself.

“Please don’t cry,” His voice softens at the sight of tears welling in your eyes, becoming all but putty in your hands. As of this moment, he knows there’s no convincing you, no making you believe that his words ring sincere and true. But he still can’t help but motion to wipe your tears, until you harshly block his hand.

The sorceress and the traveler, Miss Hunter and Miss Secretary. The dragon resting inside of him couldn’t bear to let go of his mate — after all, what was a centuries-old love compared to a new, fleeting connection? But the threads of fate had woven together to bring you to him, and the man he was now couldn’t bear to cut those ties.

You swallow the hurt, trying to put into words the burden that’s been weighing on you for so long, “I don't want to live in her shadow. I don't want to see this through when I know that one day, you’ll regret what you’ve lost.”

His face falls, and you feel a bit of satisfaction in seeing him carry even a smidgen of the hurt you’ve felt. But for the most part, it just hurts you to see him in pain. 

”You think so lowly of me, as if I don't have the autonomy to make my own decisions. But you need to face the facts, dear —- the only one holding back is you.” He’s laid his heart on a silver platter. The only obstacle here was your own doubts, your own insecurities.

You reel back as he steps closer, “So tell me, why do you prevent us from having what we both want?” He brushes his hand gently against your cheek.

You take a deep breath to say the words you know will end this for good. “Because I deserve better than to settle for second place in your heart.” You give him no time to refute before you turn around, heart bruised and battered. “Please, just leave. Don’t follow me. I don't wanna speak to you anymore, not tonight.”

“I’m not leaving you alone in this city —”

“I'll call someone.”

And that’s how it ends. 

You walk away, deciding to call Kieran to pick you up. You can’t bring yourself to be in close proximity with Sylus right now. You know he hasn’t actually left, hearing the conspicuous whirring of his motorcycle in the distance, engine alerting you to his presence from a mile away. In the corner of your eye, you can see Mephisto's red, beady eyes from the pedestrian light across the road, watching you. 

Still, you continue to walk aimlessly in this false notion of solitude, carrying your heels as you wait for Kieran to arrive. Now that the haze of alcohol has cleared, and you’ve let out all that was building up since the hunter’s arrival, you can’t help but feel hollow. Completely drained of all the anger and sorrow that you’d been carrying in the past few weeks. 

The streetlights cast these roads in an artificial light, the moonless sky and desolate streets feeling emptier under its warm glow. Midsummer was fast approaching, a period once marked by sunshine and cicadas. The N109 Zone was the antithesis to everything you’d ever known and cherished — and for a while, you thought that maybe it could be enough. 

But now, you yearn for the sun to rise after the long night you’ve endured. 

A familiar car eventually pulls up, the window rolled down for you to see the concern on Kieran’s face. But he says nothing as you enter, haggard and spent, with no energy to hide your woes or muster up small conversation. The lights of the city dissipate as you head into the outskirts of the N109 Zone, and you can only hope the darkness is enough to shroud the silent tears streaming down your face.

Kieran says nothing as you silently cry in the backseat, offering you the grace of asking no questions. 

—————————————————————

Sylus watches painfully as you walk away, ashamed by this seemingly forbidden act — when all he wants to do is pull you in for more. 

For the longest time, he'd been in this foolish delusion that things could be the same between him and the hunter. If he got her to remember, if he got her to open up. But the truth was, it’ll never be the same. Both of them were two entirely different people in this life, and now… now there was you. 

He had been desperately latching on to the love that was robbed from him centuries ago, and blinded himself to the way you’d fully taken root in his heart. 

Now, he needed to cut off these loose ends and find a way to make up for his mistakes, his indecision — and only then, could he even try to give you the love that you deserve. 

But the next few days prove to be a trial as the world seems keen on keeping the two of you apart. You have a talent for avoiding him, finding increasingly elaborate ways not to cross paths with him. And when an important mission arises, requiring him to go into the field himself, it felt like fate conspiring against him.

He finishes the mission in record time, completing it in detached efficiency as he ponders how to go about speaking with you — something he plans to do as soon as he returns home. But as he nears the entrance to the Onychinus headquarters, he can immediately sense that something is wrong.

A flash of light strikes through the heart of the N109 Zone — devoid of the accompanying rumble of thunder to be lightning — when dread fills his bones. He realizes he's seen this before. 

On the day that you arrived.

He rushes into the building, immediately approached by his lackeys reporting of traitors lurking in Onychinus, who thought it wise to attack the base in his absence. But all he can think about is finding you. 

He rushes to his office, finding the twins equally distressed, after they’d cleared the floor for traitors. “Boss, she’s gone.” 

“Explain it to me clearly. Who's gone?” His heart is racing — struck by horror at the blood pooling at your desk. He knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to confront the devastation about to tip over. 

“Miss Secretary. We apprehended the traitor, but there was a stray bullet and then — she just vanished.” 

Rage blinds him. Suddenly he wants vengeance, retribution, ordering his men to apprehend the shooter. All he can do is imprison and torture the man who dared shoot at the woman he loves, making him suffer for what he’s taken from you. 

But it's not nearly enough. Not when your absence is so palpable, not when you’ve left his life as easily as you entered it. 

In the end, your departure is but a whisper in the N109 Zone, leaving behind nothing but a pool of blood and a mark on his heart.

—————————————————————

are we gonna talk about the way it took me a whole car crash, the national elections, and a loved one's terminal illness to finally finish this chapter? maybe another day. but for now i'm going to play death and rebirth (i didn't let myself until i finished this LOL) i'll see you all on the next chapter where we pick up where this chapter left off and (maybe) see things from sylus’s perspective!

some things i’d like to share since i took off for a month

i've started a new term with new professors — and one of them is literally named GOJO??? my class calls him “professor gojo uwu~” behind his back its hilarious

hot chocolate does not mix well with vodka (don’t ask me how i know)

filipino lads artists are goated and i spend more money on their merch than on the actual game

i fear i’ve become too delusional because why does my dad’s doctor look like ZAYNE —

p.s. if any of you are interested, i've linked the playlist i made for this fic in the series masterlist :>

taglist — @mangooes @mentaltrouble2201 @animegamerfox @crazy-ink-artist @phisen @jeondyy @t4naiis @wifunozomi @munimunni @blessdunrest @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @paintedperidot @mansonofmadness @pillarofsnow @sylususeyourevolonmepls @angelichiaro @mephisto-with-a-knife @crimsonmarabou @hikaru-sama @flamedancer13 @tati-the-fangirl @ameili @poptrim @caramelizedpopcirn @cupid-gene @vvonunie @lunia-likes-pomegranet @iamawkwardandshy @tinyweebsstuff @astolary @vyntheria @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @velourmobius @beaconsxd @hon3yydew @kira-loves0905 @codedove @that-lost-one @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @kaiii07 @bohoooitsme @everythingistaken00 @rmjace @red-raf-sy @goddexxluv @seris-the-amious @stellisangelicus-world @alhaith4ms @young-adult-summer @junrui

feel free to dm/comment on the series masterlist if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist 💕comment and reblog if you enjoyed!

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙀𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 - Pt. 1

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

[​🇦​/​🇳​]⦂ I'm not specific with his looks or costume so this can be any variant that tickles your fancy! Just know tho that for me, that's Mohawk Mark 👀

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】 ⦂ Variant!Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】 ⦂ Violence, possession

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】 ⦂ 100% inspired by reading tokoyamisstuff‘s Variant!Mark fic called “Second Chance At Love” (it’s a 2 parter and SO GOOD – you MUST check it out)

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

You were fucked. 

There was no sugarcoating the situation – things were looking grim.  Your breathing was labored as you laid face down on the pavement beneath a car.  There was a constant rumble in the ground as buildings collapsed all around the city, the sound of desperate screams overlapping one another and turning into a stomach-churning cacophony of horror.  The day had switched so abruptly from calm and peaceful to utter chaos that your brain didn’t have time to fully comprehend what was happening.  One minute you were enjoying a light lunch at an outdoor café, and the next you were cowering for your life under some random vehicle. 

From what you could gather from your small window of sight, someone who resembled the hero named Invincible was making short work of the city – why?  You couldn’t even begin to guess.  You were never overly interested in the life and goings on of supers, and made no effort to keep up with the latest happenings in their world.  As far as you were concerned that was all way above your paygrade.

But even with your bare minimum knowledge, you knew that Invincible was one of the good guys.  And from the few glimpses you saw, this super had a slightly different costume.  Whatever the situation, you couldn’t help but kick yourself for choosing to stay in the city.  Your mother had been nagging you for ages to move back to your rural hometown, claiming that it was safer and better for your health.  You’d hate to hear what she was saying about the current events unfolding…

The cramped and shaded spot you were hiding in abruptly became open and sunny, the sound of creaking metal almost deafening overhead. “There you are!” a voice rang out.  Turning slightly to look up towards the sky you’re greeted by the darkened silhouette of a super, the small shine of his teeth illuminated in the shadow.  With one arm he held the car you were hiding beneath casually over his head. “I knew I’d find you somewhere around here.”  He tossed the sedan into the café a few yards away with as much ease as you would have tossed a crumpled sheet of paper into a trashcan.

You curled into yourself, arms attempting to cover your head in response to the car crashing into your favorite lunch spot. In the midst of the mayhem you didn’t even notice you were off the ground until you realized all of the ear-splitting clamor seemed quieter and farther away.  Cautiously lowering your arms, you opened your eyes to the view of Invincible’s face as he smirked down at you.  Had you been saved?  That is what heroes do of course, but to save just you in such a widespread catastrophe seemed… well, really fucking weird.  “W-What’s happening?” you manage to choke out.

“A lot of fucked up shit,” he responded starkly, his stare raking across the destroyed landscape below.  You kept your eyes fixed on him, refusing to see how far up you really were.  After a second he returned his gaze to you, the almost wicked smirk still pulling at the corner of his lips. “Aren’t you so glad I got to you first?”

“F-First?”  As if on cue, another voice identical to Invincible’s boldly stated,

“Find yourself a toy?”  Spinning midair to face the voice, you were beyond confused to find another Invincible, this one different enough to clearly tell they were indeed not the same person yet somehow they were still identical. 

“Fuck off and mind your own business,” the one holding you spat back.

“Didn’t mom teach you not to play with your food?” Alarm bells were blaring in your mind, and any thought of this being a rescue mission quickly melted into an abduction story.

“Didn’t she teach you how to shut the hell up?”  The other Invincible choked down a bitter laugh before turning away from you and saying,

“Whatever.  More universes for me to conquer then.”  With a sonic boom he was gone, barreling through buildings on the streets below and leaving nothing but rubble and fire in his wake.

“What a prick…” The Invincible holding your mumbled. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Before you could think to ask who the hell was that, who the hell was he, what the hell was happening, or anything at all, you were moving through the sky at a speed that left you hanging on just to breathe.  You were cradled in his arms like a child, still curled into a tight ball with your fingers locked desperately into his suit. 

After some time that felt like an eternity, Invincible made contact with solid ground.  Feeling safe to lift your face up and away from his chest, you immediately recognized where you were.  “Why are we in Fernville?”  Setting you down on your feet, you felt your knees shake as if about to give way beneath you.  You gripped onto his arm to steady yourself.

“I figured you’d want to see this place one last time.”  Looking at him with wide eyes, you’d finally had enough of the confusion.

“For the love of god can you please tell me what the hell is going on?!”  For the first time you saw an expression on his face that seemed almost out of place – heartache.

“Wait – you don’t remember me?”

“I mean, sure, I know of you.  I think everyone knows who Invincible is.”  Now his face turned to a look of mild relief.

“Ohh, I get it now.  You and this Mark never got close.”

“Who the hell is Mark!” Your words came out more as an exclamation than a question, your feelings really running your actions at this point.

“You used to make drinks for me at Coffee & Capes.”  You studied his face closely, and after several moments in dawned on you who he was.  The tension in your eyebrows lessened.

“Oh wow, Mark...  I remember you now.  I-I can’t believe you’re Invincible!”  And just like that his smirk was back.

“That’s what they tell me.” You shook your head in disbelief, your mind reeling to try and make sense of what was happening.

“But hold on, you said “this Mark”.  What does that even mean?”  He rolled his neck, eyes glancing wearily in the direction of town.

“It’s complicated.  And honestly a lot to explain…”

“I mean,” you scoffed, throwing your hands up. “I guess I’ve got time.”  He looked back to you again, this time showing a softness and almost adoration.  You quirked an eyebrow, and then suddenly you were being gripped tightly by your upper arms and pulled into him. Without any further warning, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. It’s not gentle or tender. It’s forceful, full of a twisted need that leaves no room for you to breathe or think. His kiss felt like a claim, a possession rather than a moment of affection.

After a moment of being frozen in shock, you tried uselessly to pull away.  Noticing, Mark pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression dark but oddly satisfied. "It’s been so long since I’ve had you…” His voice dropped, a sickly sweetness to it. "I’m not going anywhere.  And neither are you."

【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｔｗｏ】

[thesecondhandwoman]

THE PRICE OF BETRAYAL

Caitlyn x f!reader

Synopsis: Caitlyn had chose Maddie over you weeks before the battle, but after everything, you still loved her. Now in recovery, she seemed to realize her mistake of not loving you too.

Request: @nyrasproblm

The air in Piltover was heavy with smoke, the stench of burnt rubble lingering as the sounds of battle echoed through the streets. Everything had changed, and everything was in chaos. Yet, amidst the destruction and bloodshed, your mind couldn’t escape one thought: Caitlyn.

It had been days since the final battle, the battle that had torn apart Piltover’s fragile peace and brought so much loss. And yet, in the midst of everything, Caitlyn’s absence felt like the heaviest blow of all. The woman who had once been your partner, your love, was now fractured, not just physically, but emotionally.

You hadn’t seen her since the moment the battle had ended, when everything had blurred into confusion. Caitlyn had been injured—gravely so. The doctors had said she was lucky to be alive after shard had nearly pierced vital organs in her abdomen. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was the blindness in her left eye. The doctors had done all they could, but there was no fixing it.

And worse still, Maddie, the woman who had crept into Caitlyn’s life, who had pushed you away in ways you still couldn’t fully comprehend, had betrayed them all. It was Maddie’s treachery that had nearly cost Caitlyn her life.

Now, you stood outside the makeshift infirmary, the weight of your emotions pressing on your chest. You had heard the whispers—the murmurs of what had happened in the battle. Caitlyn had been forced to kneel, Maddie holding a gun to her neck, ready to end it all. It was only by the miracle of Mel’s powers that the bullet hadn’t killed Caitlyn. Instead, it had been deflected, and Maddie was dead, a casualty of her own treachery.

You had felt a sickening mix of relief and sorrow when you had heard that Maddie was gone. Caitlyn had survived, but what had she survived for?

The woman who had once been your closest confidante had turned away from you, choosing Maddie over you, letting a wedge form between you both that could never be erased.

Yet, here you were. You hadn’t left Piltover. You hadn’t abandoned Caitlyn. Not because you thought it was the right thing to do, but because part of you still believed in her, still loved her.

It had started slowly, Caitlyn pulling away from you, her words sharp, her eyes cold. At first, you thought it was just the stress, the weight of her duties as a lawmaker and protector of Piltover. But when she started spending more and more time with Maddie, something shifted. Something in her changed.

You had tried to ignore it. Tried to chalk it up to nothing. But the truth was in her eyes every time she looked at you. The distance, the icy politeness, the way she no longer seemed to care about your presence. It hurt in ways you hadn’t expected. You had been there for her through everything, always ready to stand by her side. But when she needed you most, she had turned away.

You had confronted her one night, desperate to understand, to find answers. But all Caitlyn had done was shrug you off with a cold, emotionless stare. She had told you she didn’t have time for you anymore. The words cut deeper than any blade could.

It wasn’t just the fact that Caitlyn was with Maddie, it was the way she treated you as if you didn’t matter anymore. As if everything you’d shared, every moment, every laugh, every quiet word, had meant nothing to her.

The betrayal had shattered you.

Now, as you entered the dimly lit infirmary, the first thing you saw was Caitlyn, lying in a cot, her bandaged head turned away from the light. Her right eye was closed, and the left was bandaged, a patch covering the wound that had taken her sight. Her breath was shallow, and she didn’t seem to notice you as you stood in the doorway, your heart aching.

You took a hesitant step forward. “Caitlyn,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Caitlyn, it’s me.”

Her head turned slightly, the faintest trace of recognition flickering across her face. But her gaze was distant, cold, as if she was afraid to let anyone get too close.

“What do you want?” Her voice was low, strained, but still sharp.

You felt a pang in your chest at the bitterness in her words. This wasn’t the Caitlyn you had known—the one who would have laughed at your jokes, who would have held you close on stormy nights. This was someone else, someone broken and distant.

“I came to see if you were okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the wave of hurt that threatened to drown you. “I came to make sure you were alive. You nearly—”

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn interrupted, her voice weaker now. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I never stopped worrying, Caitlyn. Even when you pushed me away, even when you chose Maddie over me.”

There was silence in the room, and you could feel her stiffen, the air between you heavy with unspoken words.

“Y/N,” she said finally, her voice breaking ever so slightly, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Your eyes narrowed, the sting of old wounds still fresh. “I don’t want anything from you, Caitlyn. Not anymore. But I never wanted you to treat me like I was nothing. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain. You didn’t even care.”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, a flood of emotion you had been holding back for so long.

“I loved you, Caitlyn. I would have been there for you. But you…” You couldn’t finish the sentence. The pain of it was too much.

Caitlyn turned her head away, her jaw clenched as she stared at the ceiling. “I made a mistake,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I was wrong. I let my fear control me. I pushed you away because I thought you wouldn’t understand, I thought I needed Maddie to feel something. To feel anything. But I was wrong.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and you could feel the weight of her regret in the room. Caitlyn, the strong, proud woman who had never apologized for anything, was finally admitting to her mistakes.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I was a fool. I never should have treated you like that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

You stood there, unsure of how to respond. You had spent so many sleepless nights wondering if Caitlyn would ever come to this moment, wondering if she would ever realize how much she had hurt you. And now, here she was—broken, humbled, but still reaching out to you.

“You nearly died, Caitlyn,” you said, your voice softening. “And I nearly lost you. I would’ve never forgiven myself if you—if you…”

Your throat closed, the weight of your own words choking you.

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Caitlyn admitted, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know how to deal with everything. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I shouldn’t have let Maddie come between us. She was a mistake.”

You could see the raw pain in her eyes as she spoke, the depth of her regret. And as much as the hurt still stung, you realized that Caitlyn was trying, she was trying to make things right.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen now,” she continued, her voice growing steadier, “but I want to try. If you’ll let me, I want to fix this. I want you in my life again, Y/N.”

The words hung in the air between you both, fragile, uncertain, but full of hope.

You looked at her—at the woman who had broken your heart, the woman who had now come to you with nothing but her vulnerability—and something inside you softened. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. There would be scars, both visible and hidden, that would take time to heal. But in that moment, as you looked at Caitlyn, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

With a small, tentative step forward, you reached for her hand. “We’ll figure it out, Caitlyn. Together.”

Caitlyn’s eyes softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw a flicker of warmth in her gaze. It wasn’t the same as before—it couldn’t be. But it was a start.

And that was enough, to both you and her.

A/N: Oh my god, final fic of the day (literally been cranking these out since 12 am). I hope that this one was a good way to end the day off, and tomorrow should be just as crazy (multitasking fics again).

[ha-rinrin]

Echos of Laughter

Summary: You and Jinx are joking around when an annoyed Isha appears, demanding some peace so she can sleep.

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 963

Authors note: Hey guys. This was a request, but I accidentally lost it 😭. It was basically what I summarized here. If you're the person who requested it, I'm so sorry I lost your request 😔. I really hope you like how it turned out! 🤞🏻

Masterlist

The hideout was as chaotic as ever. Scattered piles of old crates, mismatched furniture, and bits of scrap metal filled the space, yet it felt oddly cozy. The flickering light from a few scattered lamps cast shadows across the room, the air thick with a mix of dust and the faint smell of burnt gunpowder from Jinx's latest "project."

You and Jinx were stretched out on a large, slightly lumpy couch, the kind of couch that had probably seen better days but was still perfectly comfortable in the midst of all the madness. Jinx, curled up next to you, was having trouble settling down — her fingers tapping restlessly on your arm, her usual buzz of energy refusing to let her fall asleep.

Jinx shifted closer, her fingers tapping a playful rhythm on your arm. You felt her gaze on you, even before her hand sneaked up to poke your cheek.

“Poke,” she whispered with a grin, leaning in so close her breath tickled your skin.

“Jinx,” you groaned softly, swatting her hand away, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you with a smile.

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re all serious now,” she teased, tilting her head dramatically. “You’re just as much fun as me. Admit it.”

“Fun?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Who got stuck upside down in the ventilation shaft last week because she thought it was a ‘shortcut’?”

“That was a calculated risk!” Jinx shot back, feigning offense, though her lips twitched with amusement. “Besides, I got out, didn’t I?”

“Not without my help,” you quipped, smirking as you remembered the chaos.

Jinx pouted for all of two seconds before she launched her next attack—tickling your sides. You let out a yelp, twisting away from her as you tried to escape her hands.

“Jinx! Stop!” you gasped between laughter, your attempts to push her off only encouraging her more.

“Nope!” she declared triumphantly, straddling your legs to keep you pinned. “This is revenge for all those times you didn’t laugh at my jokes.”

“I always laugh at your jokes!” you argued, still squirming as she grinned down at you, victorious.

“Hmm, debatable,”

Your laughter filled the hideout, echoing off the metal walls and mismatched furniture. Jinx’s grin widened as she leaned closer, her fingers still poised for another tickling attack.

“Shh!” she hissed, though she was laughing herself. “You’re gonna wake up Isha!”

Before you could respond, Jinx's hand shot out, covering your mouth with her palm, silencing you instantly. You tried to push her hand away, but the laughter still bubbled up from your chest, making it impossible to stay quiet.

“Jinx, stop!” you mumbled, unable to fully protest with her hand over your lips.

She grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with playful victory. “Not my fault you’re so loud when you laugh,” she teased, still not letting go.

“Then stop tickling me!” you managed between gasps, trying and failing to push her off.

Jinx froze dramatically, her hands hovering mid-air as she raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so now it’s my fault? You’re the one with the loudest laugh ever.”

“You’re the one who started this!” you shot back, breathless but smiling.

She smirked, tapping a finger to her chin as if deep in thought. “Hmm, fair point. But…” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m not done yet!”

“Don’t you dare—”

But before you could finish, she pounced again, her hands finding their way back to your sides, and you dissolved into another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

You froze mid-laugh, your gaze catching movement from the corner of your eye. There, standing just outside her little tent, was Isha. She was clad in her adorable mismatched pajamas, complete with tiny rocket ships and moons, her arms firmly crossed over her chest. Her expression, however, was anything but cute. With narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow, she stared you both down, her entire posture screaming, Let me sleep.

Jinx followed your gaze and immediately burst into a wide grin. “Oh no,” she whispered theatrically, nudging you. “We’ve been caught by the sleep police.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again as Isha’s glare intensified. Despite her silence, the message was clear. She tapped her wrist dramatically, as if pointing to an invisible watch, then raised a brow at Jinx.

“What?” Jinx said innocently, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “It’s not even that late!”

Isha tilted her head, her expression unimpressed, before dramatically pointing at her tent and then miming covering her ears. You could almost hear her saying, You’re loud, and I can’t sleep.

You stifled a giggle, whispering, “We should probably let her rest.”

Jinx, never one to back down, leaned closer to you and whispered back, “But she’s just so cute when she’s mad. Look at her little pajamas!”

You nudged Jinx in the ribs, trying to hold back your own laughter. “Jinx, stop.”

Isha, catching Jinx’s teasing expression, rolled her eyes in exaggerated frustration before throwing her hands up and stomping back into her tent. The little door flap swayed dramatically behind her as she disappeared inside.

Jinx let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “oof. Someone’s got an attitude tonight.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” you muttered, shooting her a pointed look.

Jinx grinned sheepishly before flopping back onto the couch beside you. “Okay, okay, no more tickling. For now.”

You sighed, settling back into the cushions as the hideout fell quiet again. “Good. Let’s try to get some sleep before Isha really loses it.”

Jinx snorted softly, curling up next to you. “She loves us. She can’t stay mad forever.”

You glanced at the tent flap, still swaying slightly, and shook your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” she shot back, her grin audible in her voice as she snuggled closer.

[aventurineswife]

Can we have Jing Yuan coming home to find Reader asleep on the couch? 💛

The Sound of Silence

Summary: Jing Yuan returns home after a long day of work. He finds you asleep on the couch, having waited for him. As he watches over you, he feels a rare sense of peace, reflecting on the comfort your presence brings him amidst his responsibilities. The two share a quiet, tender moment, with Jing Yuan offering affection and reassurance as you sleep beside him.

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Fluff, Romance, Tender Moments, Comfort, Slow Burn, Soft Jing Yuan, Domestic, Sweet.

The steady hum of the Xianzhou Luofu filled the air as Jing Yuan stepped into his quarters. He had returned from another long day overseeing the Cloud Knights, his mind constantly turning over strategies and plans for a future he knew would always be in motion. Yet, when he crossed the threshold into his private space, something shifted. The weight of the world outside felt lighter, and for a moment, it was as though time slowed to match the peacefulness of the room before him.

His eyes softened as they landed on you. There, nestled comfortably on the couch, your form curled into the cushions with an air of tranquility that was a stark contrast to the frenetic pace of his daily life. It was clear you had fallen asleep while waiting for him. He could see the faint rise and fall of your chest, the way your breath slowed to a peaceful rhythm, the calmness of your face free from the concerns of the world. His lips curled into a fond smile.

His steps were quiet as he moved across the room, careful not to disturb you. Jing Yuan had seen many things in his long life—battles, victories, losses—but there was something remarkably grounding about these simple moments. Your presence, warm and unpretentious, always reminded him of the quiet beauty that still existed, even in the midst of chaos.

He knelt beside the couch, his sharp gaze softening as he watched you sleep. The moonlight from the nearby window bathed the room in a cool, silvery glow, casting shadows that made everything feel more serene. He could see the faintest curve of your lips in a peaceful expression, and it made his heart inexplicably lighter. His fingers hovered for a moment, uncertain, before he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t stir. He chuckled softly, his voice barely a whisper.

“I guess I’m not the only one who enjoys a nap, hm?” His words, though spoken aloud, seemed to be only for the two of you.

The long, elegant folds of his attire rustled slightly as he stood, now leaning against the edge of the couch, watching you with a quiet affection. How you could fall asleep so easily while he was so often lost in thought was beyond him, but it was a quality he envied. He needed only a few moments to himself to regain his focus, but you—always so at ease—had an ability to find peace in the simplest of moments.

Jing Yuan's gaze flicked down to the space next to you, and, with a sigh, he gently removed his gauntlet and set it on the table. Slowly, he lowered himself onto the couch beside you, careful not to jostle you from your slumber. His body felt the familiar ache of a long day, the tension from his position as Arbiter-General lingering in his shoulders. But here, in this moment, there was no war to fight, no decisions to make. There was just you.

The gentle rhythm of your breathing was all he needed to relax. Jing Yuan stretched his legs out, and his gaze remained fixed on you, drinking in the tranquility you exuded. It was almost funny, he thought—he spent so much of his life planning, strategizing, managing conflict, and yet the moments when he was most at peace were those spent by your side, even in silence.

He reached out once more, this time running his fingers through your hair, the touch tender and affectionate. He could feel the weight of the day’s burdens lift off his shoulders just by being near you. The world could wait.

"I'll be here when you wake," he whispered, settling his head back on the couch.

And there, in the quiet glow of the Luofu’s halls, Jing Yuan found peace once more, his heart tethered to the calmness you brought into his life.

Hours later, you stirred, the soft sound of a sigh escaping your lips. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself face to face with the person who had, unknowingly, been a balm for your own restless mind. His eyes were warm, not sharp or calculating as they usually were, but full of tenderness—a rare, fleeting softness that only you seemed to bring out of him.

“Did I wake you?” you asked sleepily, still half-dazed by the weight of slumber.

“No,” he replied with a small smile. “I was waiting.”

You chuckled softly, reaching up to gently touch his cheek. “Waiting for me to wake up?”

“Waiting for you,” he confirmed. “It’s the little things that matter.”

You blinked, not entirely sure what he meant, but before you could inquire further, Jing Yuan leaned down and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead. The action, so simple, was a promise—of patience, of time, and of unwavering presence.

“Rest now, my dear,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across your knuckles. “Tomorrow is another day.”

And with that, he relaxed into the couch once more, the two of you enveloped in a silence that felt as though it would stretch on forever, timeless and peaceful, just as you both deserved.

[nemisuki]

𐔌 ✧.* ʜᴇᴀᴅʟɪɴᴇꜱ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ || He would never let paparazzi overwhelm you, not when he’s here.   

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, no smut or angst, short oneshot, dating au, protective bkg, acts of service, he’s just a lil guy, 539 word count

It was practically chaos whenever the students were spotted outside campus.

A frankly annoying mix of paparazzi and chattering reporters, disrupting their previous peace — attempting to get through the crowd — as they try to make it back on school grounds from their mini outing.

"Give us some fucking space! We're not a damn circus act 'ya money hungry extras!"

He was on the verge of exploding right then and there.

Until he felt her practically glued to his side, hand firmly gripping onto his forearm — as if seeking comfort in the disarray of people — squinting at every flashing light from the snapping camera lenses.

The action unknowingly reminded himself that he's not alone, that he has a job to do.

He's quick to wrap his arm around her back — carefully guiding her closer — making sure not one of these extras lays even a single finger on her.

His threatening gaze zeroing in on those who are closest.

"Move it."

He scoffs when some shrink back, clearly caught off guard by his serious tone.

Talk about a bunch of weaklings...

Seeing an open opportunity, the blonde picks their pace up, shuffling towards the entrance.

"Fucking nosey shits."

They both visibly relax once they safely make it through, the automatic closing gates shutting out the loud voices from the other side, finally giving them time to breathe without a camera in their face.

A feeling that's unfortunately rare these days.

"There were more of them today huh? Honestly, I'm shocked that they are so persistent."

"Just our damn luck. It's like those pesky extras keep multiplying."

"Guess they're really invested in our lives..."

"Tch, more like they need to get one of their own."

Her head perks up as he turns to her, noticeably giving her figure a silent once over for any injuries or discomfort.

His crimson eyes looking straight into her own with slight concern, remembering the girls earlier anxiety in the crowd.

"You alright?"

She smiles at his protective nature — feeling a warm sensation in her chest — he's always like this.

Grumpy but still incredibly loving.

"Mhm! I just didn't want to be separated from you in the crowd—"

"As if I'd let that happen, idiot."

The girl could only laugh at his offended look, the combination of furrowed brows and crossed arms — looking away with a frown — clearly not finding humor in this situation.

"I'm serious, you know? I wouldn't let anything happen to you... dumbass."

Her eyes soften, taking a hold of his hand and giving it a — both gentle and reassuring — squeeze.

"I know, I wouldn't let anyone hurt you either."

He scoffs, giving her hand a squeeze back.

"I'm damn near untouchable but thanks for the thought."

She rolls her eyes.

Oblivious to the small smirk threatening to form on his face at her reaction.

"Is that your ego talking?"

"Nah, that's just the facts sweetheart."

He can see the way she bites back a shy smile at his teasing, sticking close to him as they walk towards the dorms.

Pride filling his heart in ways he never imagined at her clingy nature, it's not like he minded though.

After all, in the midst of a chaotic world, she could always rely on him.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

ᴀ/ɴ ||| i'm actually going on vacation this whole summer so i need to pre-write some fics to post while i'm away! feel free to send some [preferably summer themed] ideas/tropes in my inbox bc i need to write at least 12 stories to post once a week, doesn't have to be with just bkg btw, u can request diff characters as well! no promises i'll do all of them, so just a warning, keep it fluffy is all i ask (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ||| katsuki bakugo x f!reader (fluff) ᴛᴀɢꜱ ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin @sunnyalmighty — ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[filmsmakkari]

Part of Her World 𓇼

rhaenyra targaryen x mermaid! oc

Summary: A mermaid princess finds the only person who understands her in a princess from another world

Word count: 3.5k

CW: None!

A/N- I use a character name for this because it was easier for me to write but it can still be read as an x reader because that's what I had in mind writing it! I am seriously considering making this a series saurr let me know if you'd be interested!

Above the thrashing, powerful waves of the deep blue sea, a ship headed by a golden dragon cut through the tides like a swordfish. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen's hair blew wildly around her face in wild silver waves as she overlooked the sea from the side of the great ship. She was in the midst of her betrothal tour- a humiliating ritual where she sailed from house to house and offered herself up like a piece of meat to the great lords.  The young princess desperately longed for freedom, and here, during these quiet moments, alone on her ship, she felt that she could get a mere taste of it. At night, when she was meant to be getting the proper amount of beauty rest for a royal princess, she would sneak out and watch the sailors in their evening merriment. Drinking and singing shanties. Life at sea gave them freedom. Total control over their lives and fates. No one was forcing them to dress up like dolls and present themselves to bidders. Rhaenyra truly longed for the same.

As she should, a light sprinkle began to drop from the air. Rhaenyra didn't acknowledge the way the raindrops glazed her face, wishing the sea would swallow her whole.

"You should go inside, princess," the profoundly irritating voice of Ser Criston Cole cut through the soft music of the rain, disrupting Rhaenyra's peace. "I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."

"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," Rhaenyra said, exasperated. "I will not be washed away with the rain."

"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," Ser Criston tried to pull her to her chambers, but she shrugged him off.

"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston?" asked Rhaenyra. "Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways  to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."

"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."

"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.

"Princess—" a violent bump abruptly interrupted the white cloak. The knight and the princess both turned. In the distance, they could see a dark cloud highlighted with thunder and lightning.

The captain noticed at the same time. "Storm coming in fast, all hands on deck!" The first mate parroted the message, and the entire ship descended into chaos. Sailors rapidly climbed the mast, desperately cutting the lines, as the first mate rushed to the helm and furiously spun the wheel, attempting to guide the ship away.

"We need a lifeboat for the princess, immediately!" Cole shouted at the deckhands, pulling Rhaenyra by her arm. 

Rhaenyra watched as lightning struck the mast, and fire quickly spread across the deck. Her eyes widened at the catastrophe. Deckhands rapidly cut a lifeboat free, tossing it into the water for the young princess. 

"Hurry, your grace!" Cole attempted to shove Rhaenyra into the boat, but she would not go.

"No! The sailors and my ladies first!" She broke free and ran, shouting like a mad woman for all the men and her ladies in waiting to board the lifeboats themselves. The sailors didn't need to be told twice, and though they attempted to encourage her to join them, she refused, searching for every soul aboard to make sure they'd escape safely. 

"Madeline!" Rhaenyra shouted her lady's name. The small girl was curled up in a corner, holding Rhaenyra's little dog, Meria. 

"Princess!" Madeline yelled, relieved. 

"Come! Quickly come!" Rhaenyra grabbed Madeline and pulled her across the burning deck. Avoiding the masts as they crashed down and the canons as they rolled from side to side. Rhaenyra helped Madeline rise to the rail and jump, the dog still in hand. Rhaenyra watched as the pair hit the sea. The violent waves separated them. While Madeline was quickly pulled aboard a lifeboat, Myria lingered behind, desperately paddling to get to the boat. Rhaenyra panicked, but suddenly, it was like a gravitational force took hold of the dog and pulled her to safety. If it hadn't been a life or death situation, Rhaenrya would have pondered how it happened. However, given the circumstances, she quickly took it upon herself to climb onto the rail. But just as she was about to jump, the entire ship turned on its side, and she fell backward into the black sea.

All she saw was fire. Her lungs filled with water as the sigil of the mighty House Targaryen burned. A flash of purple. And then it all went dark.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Children of the sea do not have tears. It is that fact, perhaps, that separates the merfolk from the humans. Long shimmering tails and siren songspells aside, the simplest divider was that when humans were hurt, they wept. But when the young royal princess of the Carinae Sea, which humans called the Blackwater Bay, was upset, all she could do was swim for hours around her gilded cage of coral and cowrie stone. 

Princess Lerína angrily swam through the seaweed drapes that kept her grotto hidden from all others. Her powerful tail thrust behind her, creating a shining kaleidoscope of purple and blue. As she frustratedly sat down on the large rock on the ocean floor she'd made into her little sofa, her long black hair, a mass of braids and flowing curls decorated with shells and pearls,  cascaded around her head, irritating her further.

"He just doesn't understand, I don't have to see things the way he does!" she said angrily to Flounder, her childhood companion. 

The princess and the little fish had just been scolded by her father, King Oceanus, for spending time on land.

The day had started a happy one. Lerína had managed to escape the watchful eye of Kunle- the crab majordomo her father had assigned to watch after her, met up with Flounder and gone to find Scuttle- her seabird friend- to show him her recent human finds. Her latest favorite was what he called a Dinglehopper, used to create an aesthetically pleasing hairdo. She'd returned to the castle smiling, saying hello to every shark who made up her father's kingsguard and humming sweet songs. However, the day turned sour when Flounder accidentally mentioned to her father, King of The Seven Seas, that she'd been spending time on the surface again. Her father had done what he always did. Yelled, waved around that trident of his, and said that of every problem in the sea, she was his most troublesome. He'd given her the usual reminder that she would soon be married to a noble merman and that her fixation on the human world would not make her a more desirable bride. Bringing up how humans butchered the queen, however, was an unusual low blow. The reminder of her mother's fate sent shivers down Lerína's spine.

Now, as she was sitting in her grotto, the one place she had to herself, she pondered her father's words. Looking around, she took in the beauty of her human treasures: the shimmering little gold coins she'd found in a pouch lost in a kelp forest, the countless books written in a human language she couldn't understand, and the gold sphere with two glass ends that made everything bigger she'd just found that very day. 

Lerína chuckled dryly. "I just don't understand how a world that makes such wonderful things could be so bad. I just wish I could learn more about them. See them dancing, walking around on those… what do you call them?" she asked, gesturing to her fins.

"Feet!" Flounder responded joyfully.

"Oh, right," Lerína smiled. "Up there, they just walk and run wherever they want! Wandering free, without the constant eyes of crab babysitters and shark guards watching their every move. Tides, I wish I could be part of that world." Lerína looked up at the circular opening at the top of her grotto, admiring the colors the rapidly vanishing sun cast onto the ocean surface.

"Well, what would  you do there? If you could," Flounder asked.

Before the young mermaid could respond, she noticed the colors she'd admired just moments before being blocked out. A ship, she thought. She'd never seen one so close. Real live humans, so near that she imagined she could hear their voices through the waves. With the reminder of her impending doom wedding looming over her, Lerína, it occurred to Rhaenyra that this may be her first and last chance to ever see humans up close. 

Father will never know.

"Lerína, I know that look. It's the bad idea look. What are you-" The little fish was abruptly interrupted by a powerful gust created by the sea princess's tail as she rapidly swam for the surface, quite literally chasing her dream. As she grew closer to the surface, she reached out her arm in front of her, desperate to be close to humanity. 

And when she breached, she couldn't believe what she saw.

The ship was smaller than most of the wrecks she'd seen underwater, but it was still the most stunning thing she'd ever seen. The wood was a rich brown, with a golden sharp-toothed creature at the head. Lerína believed the beast to be a dragon. She'd heard stories of dragons as a child. While tails, songspells, and salt ruled the seas, fire, blood, and wings ruled the skies. She'd been told that rulers of the human world chained them up and rode them like seahorses- just another sign of how primitive they were. And at the top, two large black sheets with a three-headed red dragon on them.

Dragons have three heads? Lerína thought. I wonder how humans came to control them.

She swam up close to the ship, admiring the craftsmanship of each groove and hook. 

"Isn't this amazing?" Lerína semi-rhetorically asked. 

"NO! It's terrifying! Let's go home!" said a panicked Flounder.

Lerína shot him a look and continued on, ignoring him calling her.

She swam alongside the ship, coming across what appeared to be another boat tied to the larger ship. Only much, much smaller. She wondered what use humans could possibly have of one that size. As she took it in, she noticed two people conversing. Her heart skipped a beat. She'd never seen them this close. She wanted to get a better look, so she did something perhaps dangerous. Grabbing onto the small boat with both of her hands, she pulled herself inside the contraption, her long tail hanging out of the side.

There was a small hole in the ship's side, and she took a better peak to see the pair more clearly. The man was rather plain-looking, she supposed. Brown hair, a round face, and a strange, metallic, heavy-looking suit. He reminded her of  Tíeres- her father's kingsguard who used to follow her around. Nothing particularly special physically, besides the fact that he had legs rather than fins. But the girl who stood beside him… the very sight of her made Lerína's fins tingle, and her eyes widened with a feeling similar to awe. 

She didn't look like any of the pictures Lerína had found on the seafloor. Her hair was nearly as long as Lerína's, flowing like an ocean wave in beautiful ringlets down her back. Her skin was pale as a pearl, with pink lips like the corals her sister, Calypso, grew in her bedchamber. But the feature that stood out the most, the one that made Lerína's heart flutter, was the eyes. Lerína had never seen eyes like the girl's before. They were a beautiful shade of lavender, pure and bright. Lerína felt like she could see the girl's spirit through her eyes, a gentle yet regal and powerful one. She felt as though she could get lost in those eyes and never return.

Another thing she noticed was that the girl wore a crown. Similar to her own, but instead of rainbow abalone, pearls, and cone shells, the girl's was made out of gold, with three ruby eyed dragons in the middle. Lerína wondered if the girl was some form of a princess on land. Her question was swiftly answered as she heard the man speak.

"You should go inside, princess. I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."

A princess, like me. 

"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," the girl said, and Lerína knew that irritated tone well. It was the very same one she frequently used on Kunle. "I will not be washed away with the rain."

"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," the man said.

"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston? Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways  to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."

"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."

"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.

Lerína had never felt more seen or understood by anyone. Her six sisters had all taken to their roles as rulers of their seas with ease. They knew their place in the world and fit into it. Meanwhile Lerína never seemed to get anything right, much to her father's displeasure. They could never see eye to eye, and every stroke of her tail felt like a mistake, a disappointment. She knew what happened to her mother, and yet she always felt like there was room for progress. Contact with humans could help dawn a new era for their people. She felt foolish sometimes for thinking such things. But this girl, a girl from another world, she understood.

Suddenly, the ship, and the little boat in which Lerína sat began to shake violently. A man in a pointy hat ran across the deck, shouting "Storm coming in fast! All hands on deck!"

Suddenly all the humans began to scurry around like a panicked school of fish, tugging on ropes and climbing around. The man in the metal suit pulled the violet eyed girl away- much to Lerína's disappointment. She rose up on her arms to try to get a better glimpse, but the girl was already on the other side of the ship. 

"Lerína, watch out!" Flounder's voice called out. 

Lerína turned to see a group of large rocks right in front of her. She quickly hopped out of the boat and dove into the water, escaping just seconds before the boat was destroyed. She swam around, surfacing again to see the entire ship had descended into chaos. Bright, hot wisps of orange and red were rapidly spreading across the deck, and Lerína realized that this was fire. She had previously thought fire only existed in small boxes in human homes to keep them warm, but this fire was certainly not that. Everywhere the wisps went in their violent dance things broke and shattered. The humans used knives, similar to the stone and shell ones merfolk used, to cut free more boats like the one Lerína had hid in, and quickly jumped overboard into them.

Lerína watched as the land princess helped a brown haired girl, and a furry creature with a tail jump over. The girl was able to make it onto a boat, but the other creature was being pushed back under the waves. Lerína took a risk, diving under the water, grabbing hold of the creature and pushing it towards the boat, dipping under it just before she could be seen by any of the humans. 

She swam back around to the side of the ship, looking for the girl, just barely catching a glimpse of her before the entire ship turned on its side, and the girl fell backwards into the sea. Lerína swam around the front of the ship as quickly as a swordfish, tossing away priceless human items in search of the girl. She was nearly crushed as a statue of a woman came flying at her from the ship, but she narrowly dodged it. She dove down deeper, finally seeing the girl sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss. Lerína swam as fast as she could, quickly taking hold of the girl and bringing her to the surface.

Above the sea, as the waves rocked them back and forth and the burning remains of the ship illuminated the night, Lerína felt a strange sense of calm. She looked down upon the girl in her arms, and she looked so peaceful and beautiful. Lerína's heart fluttered once again. Saving a human would go against everything she had ever been taught. If she ever came in contact with them she was meant to swiftly escape, and in the worst case, use her siren song to kill. As she looked down on the most beautiful face she'd ever seen, Lerína knew what she had to do. 

So she held the girl tighter, and allowed the waves to swallow them whole.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

She had never been this far from Atlantis before. She could feel the dry sand burning her hands and the top of her tail, while the waves caressed her fins back and forth. Her hair was damp against her back, and the land princess was in her arms.

Lerína laid the girl on her back against the sand, immediately leaning against her chest to check for a heartbeat. When she couldn't hear one through the girl's thick, fuzzy red and black garment, Lerína quickly unbuttoned it and pulled it apart, leaving the girl in nothing but a thin gown, which, in its dampened state, made the girl's breasts plainly visible. Lerína's cheeks, for no reason she understood, got hot. She shook the girl a few times, trying to rouse her. Finally, the girl coughed a few times, spitting out seawater. Lerína moved back, preparing to escape before she could be noticed. But when the princess didn't move, Lerína did something foolish. 

Taking a deep breath, Lerína closed her eyes, and began to sing. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Rhaenyra didn't know where she was and she didn't know what was going on. Vague memories quickly flashed through her mind. Her tour, talking with Ser Criston, saving her ladies and her friends, and going under the water.

Suddenly, there was a voice. A voice so enchanting it flowed through the mist of her mind like a beacon of pure light. It was like a siren guiding her back home. She could barely open her eyes, only being able to make out a girl with long hair- she couldn't make out the color. From what little she could tell, it wasn't anyone she knew, and yet she felt incredibly safe and trusted her immediately. With what little strength she had, she lifted her hand and placed it above the girl's hand on her chest. But just as she was starting to regain her full vision, voices began to shout and call her name. The girl's hand quickly left her chest, and she vanished on the beach like seafoam. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Lerína, hidden behind a large rock, watched as a group of men and women descended down the mountain, all surrounding the girl in a panic. 

"Princess!" "Your grace!" "Rhaenyra," they cried as they gathered around her. 

The man in the metal suit Lerína remembered from the ship lifted the princess in his hands and carried her back up the mountain, the entourage following behind him.

Suddenly, Lerína was overcome with a feeling she could not explain. But somehow she knew, from this moment on, things would never be the same as they were.

I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's started right now. Someday, I just know I'll be part of her world.

She watched as the princess was carried over the mountain and disappeared when she realized something—she knew the princess's name.

Rhaenyra, she thought. I'll be part of Rhaenyra's world. 

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

[starhvney]

accidentally unfollowed when i was requesting

but anyways!

could i have tea, with cream and a warm pretzel :3 for mcd laurance pleek

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: romantic tension, fluff, festival

𝐚/𝐧: hahah i saw that notification and was like …wait a minute. anyways, i HAD to write about pre-shadow knight laurance because i love him and want to bite his cheeks, so here he is! and thanks for refollowing me lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The sound of laughter and chatter over crickets and the local band fills your ears and swirls around your head, the smell of food from the vendors and the twinkling lights above lulling you into a peaceful state in the midst of the Meteli festival.

“There you are…” A familiar, suave voice coos from behind you, fingers rough from training dancing gracefully along your shoulder to call your attention. “And beautiful as always.”

Long, copper-toned hair cascades over broad shoulders, and with green eyes twinkling and a handsome smirk tugging on his sun-kissed face, you find yourself looking at Meteli’s charming head guard. Ugh, you hate how easily he can stir up that fluttery feeling in your chest, and the blush that makes its way to the apples of your cheeks when he gently brings one of your hands to his lips in greeting.

“Ah, it seems the ‘Casanova’ of Meteli has finally found some time for me,” you tease (despite the slight twinge of discomfort you feel at the idea of him spending this night with any other woman).

He wrinkles his nose at the nickname, before dramatically closing his eyes and tilting his head in dismay.

“I invited you. Of course I’d want to make time for you. How your words wound me, my love. Unless…” he smirks, looking at you through thick lashes. Mischief twinkles in his eye, and you brace yourself for his next words. “Unless you’re jealous?”

“Oh, please.” You’re quick to defend yourself, cursing the blood that betrayed you by flooding into your face. “You wish.”

He tilts his head back, chuckling and breaking out into a full smile at your quick words.

You couldn’t deny, while his strong pursuit for your affections that started almost immediately after your first meeting was off-putting and a bit questionable, all of the lovely words and flower petals pressed into letters meant just for you… it was hard to resist his charm. 

“Oh, how I do,” he says, eyes full of mirth. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. “Though, my lady, if you’re feeling generous, could you be so kind as to spare me a dance under the stars tonight?”

Your heart rate picks up, and you spare a glance to the center of the plaza, where people were breaking away from the cheerful Saltarello dancing and making way for couples to slow dance to a more romantic tune.

“I…” you trail, suddenly feeling more nervous than you usually do around him.

“It would make my whole evening,” he admits, voice softer—-more genuine as he leans down to catch your eye. “In fact, it would make my whole week. No, I’ll think of it for a year!—”

“If I agree, will you stop talking about it like that?” you bite the inside of your cheeks, trying to calm the heat radiating from them.

He laughs again. “Anything for you, my love.”

When you give him one more approving nod he doesn’t hesitate to pull you towards the center of the plaza, an eager smile spreading across his lips. The lanterns are all gathered in a harmonious glow above you when he comes to a stop and twirls you into his arms. The music is louder here, drowning out the chatter and noise of the festival, creating a small word of its own in the middle of chaos.

As if the band were waiting just for the two of you to join, once he cups your hand in his and holds your waist in the other, the song swells for the dance to begin. 

You fall in step with him, Laurance guiding your feet across the cobblestones below as if it were as simple as breathing. Your brain has to work overtime to keep up with him, and a part of you wonders how he learned to dance so well like this; If he had serenaded many women before you, spinning them around and whispering sweet nothings in their ears with that charming smile before moving on to swoon the next.

Surely he’d have many dance partners to choose from, yet he had taken the time to write you yet another letter full of flowery words, wishing and hoping you’d take the time to come celebrate with him this evening. You let out a silent sigh at your internal conflicting thoughts, not noticing the observant green eyes that focused on the furrow in your brow and slight pout on your lips. 

“I’m surprised you indulged my invitation on such short notice.” He leans in to say, an eyebrow quirking as he fills your vision, forcing you to look at nothing but him.

You flinch, for a split moment fearing if somehow he was able to read your mind. “Well, you were quite adamant in your letter. I’d feel guilty if I turned you down. I could say I was surprised as well at the sentiment.”

The corners of his lips quiver, and for a small moment you catch his face fall before he smiles again.

“I was more than overjoyed to see you stepping into town, my love.” He extends his arms to spin you around, before pulling you back into his embrace. “I had to stop myself from cheering in front of all the townspeople. They may doubt their head guard’s abilities if they knew you alone could elicit such a reaction from him.”

You can’t help but push him further, curiosity and the satisfactory tingle that you were the only one he found interest in eating away at your ability to be subtle any longer.

“I thought you would have had many dance partners to choose from this evening.”

“Jealous?”

“You wish.”

His lips twitch, and he can’t help but to throw his head back for a bout of fond laughter. “I do… I do wish…”

He sighs, before continuing.

“And to answer your question, I may have many options, but in my mind there’s only one.” He tilts his head, intentionally directing a look at you. There’s a pause of hesitation, before he lowers his voice. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve always been too awkward to pursue anyone outside of playful teases? That you truly are the only one I want to be this close to?”

You suck in a breath, eyes widening when you find yourself being dipped in his arms. The lanterns above form a halo around his head, and your breath hitches when one of his hands drag yours across the opening in his shirt and onto the bare skin of his chest. 

The thrum of his heartbeat under your fingertips is rapid, an undeniable reaction to the proximity between the two of you. He stares at you intently—-and while he was a man of many words, this time he says nothing, instead letting the rushing blood to his cheeks and the almost nervous quiver of a smile on his lips speak more. 

This is because of you.

The song has ended, and Laurance reluctantly pulls you up to stand straight again. A beat of silence between the two of you passes, and after swallowing thickly, he bows to you with a charming smile once again.

“Shall we explore the rest of this festival together? I don’t think my heart can’t handle parting from you just yet, lovely.”

“...Yes, I would love to.”

It was hard to ignore the envious eyes that followed you as he gracefully whisked you through the crowd. But when you glance up at Laurance, he doesn’t even seem to notice they exist, his hands tight on yours and eyes trained forward with a bright, almost giddy and childlike expression on his face. The satisfied, almost smug feeling was hard to deny at the realization; that you were the only one occupying his thoughts right now.

Maybe, behind all that bravado, there’s a sweet, genuine man that you could find yourself falling in love with…

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz @vyladsgirl @allieyaaa @luvsymai @yoom-ss

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU FOUND ME

➛ EPILOGUE

a/n: what do i even say after months of writing this story. after it's lived in my head for so long. i wrote a small thank you letter that will come after this, but i just wanted to say this has been the best fucking time i've had writing a fic i never thought might get finished. i have loved logan and honey and laura and wade from the very start. i have cried writing this and laughed (way too hard at my own jokes) and it feels painful to finally say goodbye. but i hope i've done it justice. i hope it's lived up to your expectations. to all of you who love this story, thank you for the ride. it's been one hell of a memory.

summary: when time stands still and love clambers through the door left open, things begin to finally click into place. in the midst of chaos - of a life you never thought might have a final note - you find that you've had all you needed all along. a family to share that final page with.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!, endings + beginnings, logan being in love, time, wade's relentless commentary, laura kinney being an icon, fluff, romance, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption, promises, tears from the author cause i am sad af to end this, happy endings.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

“Places people! If you fuck this up I swear to me I’ll gut the fuzzy bear sitting on the bar.”

“You just wanna take it home,” Laura snapped, setting the final nail into place—the wall coated in dried putty from attempt number one and two and…six.

“What?” Wade scoffed. “I don’t want it. No matter how cute and cuddly and…shut up. Sugar bear! How are we doing with food?”

“Vanessa said she’s on her way with the shwarma,” Peter called. “Although I don’t know why we couldn’t just order pizza-”

“Please. Pizza doesn’t scream romance the way shwarma does. And that’s what we need. Fist fucking, knuckle biting-” Laura groaned, chucking the hammer at the walking annoyance who unfortunately knew how to fucking duck. “Romance!”

“It’s good to see you like this. Happy.”

“I wasn’t happy?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I made you a promise. I couldn’t keep it.”

“Maybe this time around you can.”

Sunlight broke through the drawn open curtains, casting warmth along the new and clean comforter. A gift left behind after you disappeared—the sticky note pinned to the soft fabric enough to let you know whose handy work it was. Contentment stirred in the base of your stomach, eyes unwilling to open as afternoon crested over the city—pulling you back to the present moment.

You could feel the time pulse in your wrists, the dimensions of the universe swathing around your bare body. But the heat pulling at your legs and streaking up your spine was different.

Shifting a breathless moan spilling past lips that tried to form his name. Buried beneath the covers you felt his tongue slide between your cunt, sucking each lip into his mouth with a muffled groan—hands kneading at your legs.

“Logan,” you gasped, hand pushing away what covered him.

He hummed in response, grinning at the feel of your hands curling into the unruly brown hair—his hold on your legs pushing them up and towards your chest. Spreading you just enough to delve his tongue into the fluttering hole. Your moan would no doubt be heard by the neighbors next door. Which would bring yet another complaint down on your head; claims that you were disturbing the peace by being fucked too well.

Every simplistic worry and overdrawn out thought dissipated the second he thumbed your clit, slurping loud with a harsh moan until you burned for him. Turned to ash beneath his needy touch.

Light coiled around his body, connecting your limbs to his. Vines that stretched to the skies; always meant to bloom in the late afternoon. Forever tinged by the hues of your love.

“W-Wait,” you breathed, tugging him free from your dripping cunt—his chin smeared in the slick he was starving for. Just a taste more, something to keep him from going hungry. His eyes were drooped, a flush forming along his cheeks, and the sight shot a hole through your chest.

He looked gone.

“Want you to finish,” he got out, thumb still running along your slit, pushing that sticky tang he’d grown addicted to everywhere he could get it. “Taste’s like fuckin’ heaven.”

“I need you.”

His lips twisted into a smile, eyes flashing dark. “Don’t worry bub. I’ll fuck ya good after I finish breakfast.”

Whatever complaint formed on the tip of your tongue slid down your throat as his mouth sealed over you. Sucking your clit hard enough to have your eyes rolling back, a shout of his name rippling in the air permanently tinged blue. He could feel the energy beneath your skin. The trembling burst of what now flowed with ease. Your scent was thick and heady, stuck to his senses like a perfume he never wanted to rid himself of.

His moan was lost into your slick, the mess pooling down to your ass begging him to clean it up with his tongue. A job he’d happily do with light in his eyes and devotion puncturing his heart. His thumb pressing down on the hole he had yet to claim sent the wave crashing over your body. A high pitched sob cracking in the air like a fucking whip—twining around his cock that leapt at the sound.

“Fuck,” he bit out, climbing up and over your still shaking body—his fist pumping tight over his already leaking cock. “Not gonna fuckin’ last this time honey.”

With an obedience that nearly fractured the last working bits of his mind, your legs fell open—a breathless smile crossing lips he took with a groan.

“So good for me.” His voice was lost as he sunk into your wet heat, the walls of your cunt clamping down hard enough to blind him. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

“Oh-” Nails punctured his back, scratching lines he wished would become a permanent scar. You were the only one—the only soul alive—he’d allow to hurt him. To cause enough pain he would feel it years down the line.

“Love you,” he rasped, hips pounding down into you and splattering wetness along his thighs. “Ya hear that?” A hand clamped around your throat, drawing your lips to his. “I love you.”

You moaned, thighs shaking around his hips. “I-I love you.”

Logan felt it along each muscle, his body tensing as he came with his tongue against yours. Time slowed, the clock stopped ticking, and the pleasure in his spine ruptured down to his toes. He kept fucking coming. Filling you slowly, warming your insides with everything he had to give, as you moaned wantonly beneath him—body glistening with sweat and eyes flashing gold.

Without even realizing it you were prolonging everything around you. Ceasing the tick of seconds to keep him inside you for as long as possible.

He’d never felt anything like it.

Tension melted off his body when you finally came to—the tick, tick, tick of your kitchen clock starting back up while his cock softened inside you. Cum steadily leaking out and around him. The scent caused his entire mouth to salivate, a mixture he’d never tire of, but your smile drew him back immediately.

“Good morning,” you sighed, voice dripping with ecstasy.

He grinned, nose pushing against your cheek. “Afternoon honey.”

“What a way to wake up.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” he chuckled.

City life echoed beyond the glass, stirring you to get up and join in on the noise. To fall back into a routine you once knew. Only now things were different. Only two days had passed since your return—nearly every moment spent in this apartment—but you couldn’t return to what you once knew. The job, the dull colored hue of everyday tasks, were things of the past. Pieces of yourself you learned to mourn in your time spent with Logan.

“Wade’s being a fuckin’ shit,” he groaned against your neck.

Absentmindedly your fingers twisted around the hair at the side of his head, eyes fluttering as he twitched inside you. “What’s he up to now?”

“Demanding we show up to this party he’s throwin’.”

“Uh oh. Wade and parties.” He snorted, lips sliding along your throat. “Although we do have a great track record of innocence last I checked.”

“Innocence huh?”

You smiled. “What’s the worst that could happen? You take me in his room this time?”

“Don’t fuckin’ tempt me.”

There was something tempting about watching him break above you—hazel eyes glimmering black at the thought of sinking into you and keeping you quiet. What an idea. To be at his mercy anywhere he wished. Logan’s arm circled around your waist, hauling you close enough to dig your way into his skin, as his cock grew hard for the second time.

“Something tells me I should,” you purred, sharply tugging his dog-tags. “Better tell Wade we’re going to be late.”

“Six. Fucking. Hours!” You heard his voice before you saw him, perched atop a table—a whiskey bottle in one hand and a grotesque stuffed bear in the other. “I would say I’m impressed but you’re teetering a bit too fucking close to mine and Nessa’s record.”

The lights strung along the bar’s ceiling caught your attention first, glinting like fireflies in the lowlights of a place you’d seen but never entered. Vanessa sat at the bar, Peter chattered away in the corner, Laura lounged in a chair—her feet propped up on the table beside Wade—and even Althea was dragged into the throes of a party you should have expected. A sloppy hand painted banner hung over the bar (in Wade’s handwriting no less): WELCOME HOME SWEET AN-

“Yeah I ran out of space,” Wade sighed. “Sorta had to squeeze it in there. But I’m used to that by now. Isn’t that right baby?”

Vanessa groaned, laughing into her drink. But you could see the love in her eyes, the promise of forever written in her heart. The same look Logan fixed you with every morning since he met you—his mind planning a life together from the very second. You felt his hand clutch your hip to tug you through the bar. Past everyone who showed up—some you knew, others yet to introduce themselves—but a family nonetheless.

“Mom,” a voice meekly said from behind him. You didn’t need to see her to know who was calling you, gifting you the title that had been branded on your skin. And you took it with pride, spinning to catch her as she threw herself into arms that would always be there to catch her.

“I got your gift,” you mumbled into her hair.

She smiled. “I’m glad I found you.”

Logan’s breath hitched—his body angled towards the bar. Allowing you two a moment of peace. A memory that clung to the blue that enveloped you both. Forever protecting what you refused to lose.

“I’m glad you found me too.”

“Not to break up the mamma mia vibes, but we’ve got some partying to do.” Wade’s chin landed on your shoulder, Laura sneering at the close proximity of someone she pretended to loathe. So much like Logan.

This is what you missed the most. Joy found and scraped at the very bottom of a barrel that held nothing but fucking pain. Something to live for. Even as the world ripped you to pieces. Logan was involved in a conversation—the man unfamiliar to your memory—and Wade was more than happy to drag you towards the group. Always a host (or attention seeker). You couldn’t be sure at this point.

Wade coughed, handing over a bucket with paper beaks. “Pin the tale on the platypus! Sorry Log they were all out of badgers.”

“Wolverine dumbass,” Althea snapped.

“Only when he’s in sweet angel-”

“I’d shut the fuck up if I were you,” Logan snarled.

“Six hours of the horizontal samba and he’s still acting like someone shit in his Cheerios.”

You smiled, yanking free a beak. “He didn’t have Cheerios for breakfast.”

Logan groaned—Wade’s laughter piercing his right ear. He had half a mind to ram his head through the bar, the half bottle of whiskey barely enough to keep his claws to himself. But you were glowing in the darkness, your laughter etching your name just a bit deeper in the deep caverns of a mind he rarely touched. Memories of pain turning to gold before his very eyes.

Wade peeked over Vanessa’s shoulder, his lips twisted into a grin that spelled trouble. “Logan you have other friends? And here I thought what we had was special.” His head swiveled. “Besides whatever those white men Ryan and Hugh have going on.”

“Fuck off,” Logan snapped, reaching for his half empty glass.

Two glasses clinked against the bar, a towel tossed beside them. “What’s with all the dramatics?” Travis questioned, pouring himself two fingers of bourbon. Aged. Smokey. A far better taste than what he was drowning himself in.

Logan grinned, heart fluttering—he hadn’t feltsomething so right in so long. “I just like to see her smile.”

“Keep it that way,” Travis agreed. “And life will be bliss. Take it from an old fuckin’ man.”

“I will.”

As if called forth by his gaze burning along your back, you sidled up to him, tucking into his side with a breathy giggle. “Wade’s claiming I cheated.”

“You did fucking cheat! You and that spork kid of yours.” A high pitched shout pierced the air, Wade’s shriek accompanied by Laura embedding a claw in his leg.

Logan couldn’t recall a time he’d been this proud. His daughter finishing the job he was too relaxed to get up and do himself.

“Hey,” you sighed, tipping your chin up—eyes glittering in the string lights. Stars lost to the depths of irises he’d happily stare into as time aimlessly passed him by. “I wanna show you something.”

He grinned, hand cupping your hip. “Already?”

“Not that.”

So he allowed himself to be dragged out of the bar—without complaint—and into the shadowed parking lot. It looked different at night. Empty of cars and lit by a single streetlight. Yet he could recall the time as if it happened moments before, the day solidified as one of his favorites. You wandering out of the grocery store altered the hell he was more than happy to wither in, barely fighting for breath.

You saved him. Only for him to save you right back.

“I believe it was right here,” you said. “When a stranger came up to me—out of nowhere— and told me I smelled different-” He laughed, pulling you close beneath a light littered by flies. “And changed everything.”

The small box nearly burned his hand as he dug it out of his pocket. Black and satin and tied with a yellow ribbon he found in the back of Wade’s drawer. He was too afraid to ask what it was for, but for you it would work. For you he’d endure every moment of Wade’s intolerance and parties he’d rather stray from. If only to see you smile for the rest of his life.

Your eyes went wide when it fell into your palm, heart stuttering and scent growing thick in the frigid air. “It’s not what you think it is. Unless that’s exactly what you want it to be honey. But well…fuck I’m not really good at this type of shit-”

It flicked open with a small creak, silver nestled into blue velvet. “Logan,” you breathed.

“I said forever. I meant it.”

“When did you…where-”

Crimson flushed across his cheeks and a hand tugged at the back of his neck. “I asked Laura who asked—Peter I think—and uh melted down one of the tags.”

“It’s…made from your dog-tags?”

He nodded, body humming with the weight of his next words—the promise set in metal left from a legacy he was finally proud to uphold. “I love you honey.”

A ripple extended through the universe, pulling from what surrounded you and forming a familiar glow of sunlight. You rushing past, him chasing after you, Wade intervening. He watched it all play it out behind you as he slipped the ring onto the finger it fit best. An inevitable vow, a promise engraved in cosmic matter and weaved by time.

He kissed you there in the darkness, breathing in your honey-like scent that called to him the day he found you. Even lost in a home never meant to house his soul, you made him feel wanted.

You brought him back to life.

The bar was chaos by the time you returned, paper beaks scattered on the floor, a broken chair stuffed into the corner and a song you couldn’t recognize blaring on the speakers. Laura was tossing darts with an older man, a smile finally gracing her face. Peter was deep in conversation with Althea and two others and yet all their eyes snapped to attention as you waltzed in, Logan attached to your hip—his mouth stuck to your neck.

“I fucking knew it!” Wade screamed, leaping forth. “Dibs on being the officiant.”

Logan groaned. “Wade-”

“I mean who else can say that Jesus married them. Can I get an Nema?” He grinned. “Can’t afford to get copyrighted by Hollywood. The budget is barely holding it together.”

“Get in line,” Laura bit out, meeting you at the door.

You allowed her to drag you behind her, Logan following close behind as everyone fell back into their own groups. Life settling for the first time since you met him. And for the first time…you felt it. That unfamiliar warmth pull at your chest, call you into the bliss that welcomed you. Time. Now at your side.

Forever and a day encased in the beauty of your family.

THE END.

note: am i crying as i format this? possibly. if you've been here since i posted chapter one then thanks for sticking it out with me. and if you've just discovered this fic, i hope you enjoyed their love story. it's been fun. onto the next.🖤

[icarusignite]

i don't want your sympathy (i just want myself back)

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Child of Hypnos! GN! Reader

Summary: Terribly injured after returning from his quest to the Garden of Hesperides, Luke Castellan turns to the only person who can help him sleep. Basically a hurt/comfort shortfic for Luke cuz he needs comforting lol

Word count: 1.7k

The infirmary was a sterile space, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and tonics. It was mercifully silent, devoid of the Apollo campers who often sporadically visited to check in on whoever occupied the space. 

Luke Castellan was the only patient there today, his features twisted in discomfort as he slowly regained consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, squinting against the sunlight streaming in and the room swam into focus, though his thoughts remained muddled, fragmented memories clawing at the edges of his consciousness. He struggled to separate reality from illusion, unsure of which memories were true and which were twisted figments of his nightmares.

Immediately, he became acutely aware of a throbbing ache pulsating through his face. It felt as though his skin had been stretched to its limit, pulled taut over the wound that marred his features. With each breath he took, the pain intensified, a sharp reminder of the injury he had sustained. 

The injury he had sustained on the quest he had failed. 

His hand instinctively moved to touch the bandages that covered the wound, fingers gingerly tracing the contours of the thick gauze. Beneath the sterile fabric, he could feel the heat radiating from the angry gash, the skin around it tender and inflamed. The cut itself was a jagged slash, stretching from the bottom of his eye to his jawline, and seemed to throb with a life of its own. 

The pain made him angry. He was always angry these days, and he had only just returned. 

The voices from his dreams still echoed in his head, sinister whispers that promised power and vengeance, their dark allure tempting him to succumb. They spoke to his deepest desires and stoked the flames of his fury in ways that were becoming impossible to ignore. 

And then, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he saw the figure seated by his bedside, their head resting on folded arms, form rising and falling in a steady rhythm of breath. A life, a beacon of familiarity and solace in the midst of his confusion.

It was you. Of course, it was. You had not left his side since he was carried in, broken and bleeding from the camp's border. Your face, though serene in sleep, bore traces of worry and exhaustion, and Luke's heart clenched at the sight, a rush of emotion flooding his senses—gratitude, guilt, longing.

You should not have to worry about him like this, forgoing your own wellbeing to look after him. 

You had been there the whole time, a steadfast presence in the chaos that followed his return. He remembered, faintly, the fleeting moments of clarity when his eyes had briefly met yours, finding comfort and reassurance in your gaze before he slipped into unconsciousness once again as his injury was stitched up. 

He did not want to disturb you, but he couldn't help himself, his hand reaching out almost as if it had a mind of his own, fingers trembling as he brushed them against your cheek. There was something about you that brought him comfort, something he could not put a name to, but it was instinctual, almost magnetic. 

You were peace. You were his peace. 

You stirred when made contact, eyelids snapping open instantaneously, filled with concern and affection as you bolted upright in your seat. 

"Luke," you breathed, your voice soft and gentle, like a soothing melody amidst the chaos of his mind. "You're awake."

A fragile smile tugged at Luke's lips, and although the gesture hurt, it was worth it to see the brief flash of relief that flooded your features. 

"Luke, are you alright?" you asked hurriedly, scrambling from your perch to inspect him. You were no medic but you spent long enough in the infirmary, easing injuries and sending campers off into a peaceful slumber that you had become accustomed to looking for signs of concern. 

"I...I'm fine," his voice was hoarse from lack of use, his throat parched, which had you rushing to pour him a cup of water.  

"Should I call someone from the Apollo cabin to take a look at your injury?"

Your words washed over him, but your concern was both comforting and frustrating in equal measure. He appreciated your kindness, your willingness to help, but at the same time, he couldn't shake the bitterness that rose in his throat at the thought of being pitied.

If even your gaze was heavy with it, he could not imagine what the rest of camp half-blood would think of him. A failure. A demigod who could not complete a quest that had already been completed once before by another. 

"I'm fine," Luke muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. "I don't need anyone fussing over me."

He tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, crumbling under the weight of his conflicting emotions. He didn't want your sympathy, didn't want to be seen as weak or vulnerable. He was Luke Castellan, a fighter, a survivor—he refused to be reduced to a mere object of pity. 

Silently he cursed the gods for reducing him to this. His stupid father and his stupid quest. 

Still, even as he pushed you away, a part of him longed for your presence, your touch. He couldn't deny the warmth that flooded his heart whenever you were near, the way your smile could chase away the darkness that threatened to consume him.

He had become quite accustomed to being around you over the years, because even though you had been claimed, being the child of a minor god was as good as being the child of nothing, thus cementing your place in the Hermes cabin with him. Another thing to curse the gods for, because if anyone deserved a place to truly belong, it was you, with your kind eyes, and careful hands so eager to help. 

He supposed it didn't matter in the end. You had wormed your way into his heart, unbeknownst to him, and if there was one place you surely belonged, it was there. 

As you paused in your fussing, your eyes caught the subtle signs of exhaustion etched into Luke's features—the faint shadows beneath his eyes, a telltale sign of restless nights and troubled dreams. Despite the fact that he had been asleep for the better part of the past three days, the toll of his ordeal still lingered, casting a shadow over his weary frame.

"Would you like some help...you know...falling asleep?" you asked gently.

The offer caught Luke off guard, his pride momentarily forgotten in the face of his overwhelming fatigue. A wave of relief washed over him at the thought of finding solace in sleep, of escaping the turmoil of his thoughts if only for a little while longer. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he acquiesced. 

"Please," he murmured, the word slipping past his lips with a mixture of gratitude and pain. He shifted slightly on the bed, wincing as he made room for you to join him. 

Your cheeks flushed a slight crimson as you took your place, precariously perched at the edge, careful not to jostle and cause him further pain, your gaze meeting his with a clarity that made his heart skip a beat. Then, when you reached out, your hand finding his own with a reassuring touch, it sent a shiver down his spine.

He found his eyes start to grow heavy. 

Your touch was warm and comforting, a balm to his weary soul as you ran a hand over his closed eyes, fingers tracing soothing patterns against his skin. The tension in his muscles began to ebb away, replaced by a sense of peace and calm that he hadn't felt in days. He wasn't quite sure if it was the effect of your powers, or just your presence that put him at such ease, but it was magic all the same. 

With each stroke of your hand, Luke felt himself drifting further into the embrace of sleep, his mind growing hazy and light. It was a different sort of slumber, one unburdened by the shadows and voices that awaited him in the darkness with dark promise. 

When your hand moved through his hair, a sense of familiarity washed over him like a warm tide. The soft melody you hummed resonated deep within him, stirring memories long buried beneath the weight of his pain.

It was a popular tune, one he might have heard before but he couldn't quite place it. Then it came to him, a sharp ache in his chest, not so different from the physical pain in his flesh. His mother used to sing to him like this, during her brief bouts of lucidity, when she wasn't chasing him around the house spouting prophecies of doom and destruction. 

He remembered her, her face a blur in the recesses of his mind, her voice a distant echo that whispered of warmth and safety. In those rare moments, she had held him close, her hands running through his hair in much the same way yours did now.

Unbidden, tears slipped from behind Luke's closed eyes, a silent testament to the grief and longing that filled his heart. 

"Everything will be alright, Luke," you whispered, wiping his tears before they had a chance to seep into his bandage. "You'll see."

It's a lie. He knew it was a lie. Nothing would ever be alright again, and he would never go back to being the person he used to be, but there was a part of him that wanted to believe her, if only for a fleeting moment. 

After all, he was the son of the god of tricksters—a master of deception and illusion. And as he lay there, cradled in your embrace, he couldn't help but succumb to the illusion of peace and comfort that you offered.

For now, with you by his side, he could trick himself into believing that everything would be alright—that the pain and suffering he had endured would soon be nothing more than a distant memory. And as sleep claimed him once more, he clung to that belief, finding solace in the presence of the one person who had never stopped believing in him.

A/N: feel free to send in requests for Luke lol, I'm currently in my brainrot era. Also reblogs/comments are much appreciated as I'd love to know what yall think <3

[strzlun]

SACRIFICE

// park sunghoon //

pairing: human!sunghoon x vampire!femreader

word count- 8k

genre/cws- angst, fluff, past life, a few kisses, turning into vampire, arguing, violence(?), crying(sobbing), sunghoon has so much love for reader, abandonment(?), fangs, two people in love, usage of two OC

>[2] of FATAL TROUBLE series

summary- Sunghoon is willing to sacrifice the heavens and earth all to get back the one he loves

________________________________________________________

You and Sunghoon were the perfect definition of never meant to be(a lie he told himself to ease his pain, but he knew the universe knew that you and him were meant to be).

Sunghoon knew everything he’s sacrificed to make it this far. Turning into the monster you forbade him from ever becoming.

But before all the sacrifices, turning into a vampire, becoming someone that you no longer recognize, even long before Jake Sim.

Being the root cause of everything, you had Park Sunghoon and he had you.

Sunghoon knows he shouldn’t be roaming around the woods, especially after the findings of a vampire attack in a nearby town. But it’s the only way he’s able to find peace in the midst of all the chaos.

No one dared to enter deep into the woods beside him so he was surprised running into someone, you, sitting peacefully on a boulder admiring the sunset.

Naturally he was curious about you but he knew better to get involved with unknown things and people especially in the woods by himself.

So when he turned his heel to walk away, he stepped on a branch causing it to crunch under his foot.

You quickly whipped your head around to the sound and Sunghoon doesn’t know what came over him but the way the sunset was setting behind you, his heart skipped a beat.

As your eyes trailed over Sunghoon, you felt an instant urge but you forced it back down, hating how that side badly wanted to showcase itself.

You knew who Sunghoon was, the times where you would sneak into the town you would always hear some type of talk about him but you never expected to meet him out here.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt” Sunghoon quickly said shifting his gaze away but you never took your eyes off of him

He felt your intense gaze on him and his heart pounded, he tried to remain calm but he’s read of these stories when reading the newspapers.

This is exactly how it happens in the attacks and he was scared that he just walked himself straight into a vampire’s trap.

He nervously gulped waiting for any response to make sure that he didn’t just sign up to meet his end and you realized that you were staring at him.

“Sorry didn’t mean to stare, you just startled me” You mumbled before finally peeling your eyes off of him to the ground which didn’t go unnoticed

Sunghoon let out a sigh of relief knowing that you were a human being just like him. He knows to take your averted gaze as a sign to walk away and leave you alone but there was an invisible pull that dragged him to you.

“So what are you doing out here?” You looked from the ground to Sunghoon, who was awkwardly standing in the same spot you caught him in

You furrowed your eyebrows confused as to why he was talking to you, does he not know of the vampire attacks? It was dangerous to be out in the woods as a human and he was lucky enough that he only stumbled upon you and not a hunger raged vampire.

“You do know it’s dangerous to be this far out right?” You asked and Sunghoon hummed, nodding his head

You were taken back by his response and you raised an eyebrow which Sunghoon knew meant if he knew why was he still out here, especially when nightfall was about to happen.

“You should listen to your own words too, how come you’re out here?”

“Just watching the sunset, it’s really pretty today” You shrugged not wanting to worry about Sunghoon’s careless actions, he didn’t have importance to you besides being stranger who stumbled upon you

He took a glance to the sunset but noticed how he didn’t even care for it as he was just captivated by you and he’s only just met you.

“You know staring is a bad habit right?” You pointed out feeling his gaze on you again

You didn’t expect him to know about your secret. There wasn’t any way that he could possibly know, you tried your best to hide it, ashamed and regretful of what you’ve become.

But you felt so seen by Sunghoon like he was looking past your facade to examine your soul to see you, the real you.

You wiped your lips with your hand to get rid of any remaining residue as you made your way to the boulder to watch the sunset like always. You jumped seeing Sunghoon waiting against the boulder.

He heard your footsteps and immediately pushed himself off and straightened out his posture. You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him.

“Hi?” Your voice was questioning

Sunghoon knew how weird it looked, especially after not seeing you for over a week. But he couldn’t get you out of his mind no matter how hard he tried, you played like a broken record with no end.

Every time he tried to sleep all he did was dream about a life with you in it and he had no idea why but he did know that he had to see you again.

“Hi” He softly responded and you awkwardly went on top of the boulder, taking a few glances every now and then to see him staring at you

“Told you staring was a bad habit” You pointed out and he quickly cleared his throat

“I was just walking by and was just coming through, decided to a take a little break before continuing�� Sunghoon lied and you could see right through it, you softly chuckled to yourself and nodded your head

“And what brought you back to this specific spot?” You asked turning around to look at him but the way he looked at you made your still heart drop

“Just wanted to admire the view” Sunghoon’s gaze never left you and you slightly frowned before looking away to ignore the crawling thoughts in your mind

But you gave in. You gave a hand out from behind your back to Sunghoon and he looked between your hand and you in shock.

You still didn’t face him but you shook your hand towards him.

“You said you wanted to admire the view, believe me it’s better up here” You looked over your shoulder and Sunghoon felt a harsh thump against his chest

He softly grasped onto your hand and it felt like electricity shocked through you both. You quickly pulled your hand away causing Sunghoon to lose his balance. He gasped loudly and closed his eyes ready to feel the impact of the ground.

But he quickly opened his eyes when he felt a harsh pull against his arm, you were grabbing on his arm as you looked to him with a worried expression.

He panted heavily as his heart was racing from adrenaline, not thinking about you were able to hold onto him with ease nor the coldness of your touch against his skin. You pulled Sunghoon onto the boulder with you and you could see the daze that he was in.

Your gaze landed on his neck and you gulped harshly trying to peer your gaze away from it but it was hard. But when you finally did you nibbled on your lips afraid he figured out what you wer. But instead he looked at you and gave a thumbs up.

“Thank you for catching me, I didn’t feel like falling today” You blinked at him in disbelief as he simply admired the sunset “You were right, it’s way better up here” Sunghoon turned to you with a soft smile and you couldn’t help but return it

“You’re amazing Sunghoon” You scoffed before shaking your head and he tilted his head

“You know my name?”

“How could I not? Everytime I go into the town I always hear something about the town’s beloved Park Sunghoon” You gestured with your hands and he chuckled

“So you think I’m lovely?” You whipped your head towards him as you saw his cheeky smile and you rolled your eyes “I should’ve let you fallen” You mumbled but he still heard it and gave a gasp acting offended

“How come I haven’t seen you around then?” You froze for a second before regaining your composure before shrugging your shoulders

“Guess you didn’t look hard enough”

Sunghoon chuckled at your remark, amused by it. There was something about you that he couldn’t explain that drew him in.

“I don’t actually live in the town. I tend to just visit every now and then” You explained which caught Sunghoon’s interest and you noticed

“I live… Uh here in the woods”

“You live out here? What about the vampire sitings? Isn’t it dangerous?” You could hear the tone of concern from him and you wondered when was the last time someone was worried over you

But you knew not to take it to heart, he was just saying that because he assumed that you were one of him, a human.

“They don’t necessarily interrupt me” You tried to be mindful of your words but before he could question anymore you stood up

“I think we should start leaving, the sun is coming down and it’s not ideal to be out here so late” You got down from the boulder easily, forgetting that Sunghoon couldn’t follow after you

“Uh, how did you get down from here?” You turned to Sunghoon still standing on top of the boulder and you smirked before answering

“Jump”

Now you didn’t actually anticipate for Sunghoon to actually jump but when he did, you could feel the impact on his feet on your own and you hissed quietly.

“I didn’t mean to literally jump!” You loudly said but he was crouched down with his head hung lower as he waved you off

He repeated to himself that he was fine, but you and him both knew that he was far from it. But before you could ask if he needed help, you heard distant howling.

You snapped your head around the area only to just see trees and bushes blocking your view. You cursed under your breath realizing that you spent far too much time out here with Sunghoon.

You looked to Sunghoon who didn’t look like he was planning on moving any time soon.

“Hey Sunghoon, you should really get going… It’s not safe to be out here” You tried to usher him up from his crouched position but he only moved his head up to look at you

“But how can I make sure you get home safely if I leave now?”Your stared at him seeing pure genuine in his eyes and you felt a shiver run up your spine

Another distant howl snapped you out of your daze realizing your secret would be revealed sooner or later. You sighed heavily before grabbing his arm and harshly dragging him with you.

He gasped at the sudden pull finally realizing your undeniable strength. “Where are we going?” Sunghoon asked noticing how you were guiding him somewhere

“My place”

You let go of the window shades groaning as you began to pace back and forth. You couldn’t believe that you brought Sunghoon, a human into where you live.

You told yourself that you had no other choice, you didn’t need it on your conscious if you read about another vampire attack in the forest.

Sunghoon on the other hand looked around where you lived, it was rather very cold and simple than what he expected but when he heard your groan, he turned his attention onto you seeing you pace back and forth.

He could feel your anxiousness in himself as you sat on a chair and rested your head into your arms. Sunghoon froze for a moment not knowing what to do.

You kept your head buried in your arms, hoping the loud thoughts in your head would leave you alone. The same the familiar aching in your mouth started again and you became even more nervous.

You didn’t want to do something you know you would deeply regret.

As you were in deep thought to control yourself, you felt a faint touch on your head. You looked up confusingly to see Sunghoon crouching before acting out like he was going up the stairs.

You stared at him in shock seeing how he pretended bumping into a door on the top of the stairs and rubbed his head from the impact before opening the door and turning to you with a smile and wave.

Sunghoon didn’t like to see you upset (he didn’t know why it bothered him so much) but he wanted to make you smile.

But as he placed his hands around like he was stuck in a box. Sunghoon was desperately trying to get out of the box but soon gave up and sighed heavily. He gave a slight frown to you before bringing his hands to his ears and slightly pulling on them which caused him to stick out his tongue.

You finally scoffed out a smile and Sunghoon felt pride feel his chest but his finger let go of his ears before having his hands slowly fall as he stared at you smiling.

“Fangs” The mere mention of the word caused you to slap a hand over your mouth

“You have fangs” Sunghoon was stating rather than questioning “You’re a vampire”

Before you could even explain there was clatter heard from another room inside your place and you knew exactly what it meant.

“Sunghoon stay here. I promise I’ll explain everything but please just stay here” You pleaded before rushing out of the chair causing it to fall to where the noise

Sunghoon was left behind to gather his thoughts. He stared at the fallen chair, he couldn’t believe it he was associated with a vampire this time.

And now you brought him to your house for who knows what. And the thought that feared him the most, were you the one responsible for all the vampire attacks?

He felt his heart drop as his chest rose with each pant of realization but what brought him back was the sound of another person’s voice along with yours.

He knows you told him to stay but his body had a mind of its own as he walked quietly to where the voices were trying not to get caught by you and the other person.

“Is that a human I smell?” You glared at the person making a mess in the room

This was the very person you were trying to look out for and you were already annoyed that he snuck into your place again, but this was the only time that he was able to come out.

“Oh boss is going to be so happy that you’re finally giving into your instincts” He chuckled menacingly and the mention of ‘boss’ made you twist

“What are you doing here?” You spat and he rose his hands up in innocence

“Just came by to say hi to my favorite vampire, is that so wrong?” You glared at him but he didn’t pay any mind to you “Did I interrupt your first dinner? Mind if I join you?”

He tried to walk past you to the door but you put your hand out to stop him “Don’t even think about it” You warned causing him to scoff

“You’re no fun, I’m hungry” He spat as he showed his fangs that were ready to bite

“I don’t care”

“I don’t know why boss likes you so much, you’re basically not even a real vampire” He gruff out before pushing your arm away from him harshly

“Get out of my place” You pointed to the very window that he came in from and he frowned

“Oh come on, you know I’m just joking” He smiled cheekily “You usually entertain me a little longer than this. Is it because you have a guest over?” He questioned and you quickly rushed over to him to shove him

He put his hands up in defense before backing away towards the window. The satisfaction in his still heart could only be fulfilled so much.

“By the way, pick up after your mess every time you eat. I’m getting tired reading about a vampire attack in the newspaper” Your words made him stop and look at you with a gleam in his eyes

“But I can’t help myself, the bite between my jaw is so tasty and the adrenaline takes over and you know that I have to be out before sunrise so I just don’t have enough time”

“But who am I kidding? You wouldn’t get it since you’ve never sunk your damn teeth into anyone” You visibly looked appalled by his words and looked away from his gaze to look off to the side

There mere thought of having to bite someone in order to satisfy the clawing hunger and desire in you was pushed down by the utter disgust.

“Do me and boss a favor and sink your teeth into this one”

You and Sunghoon sat face to face, your seat purposefully farther from his. Your fangs disappeared as you stared to the ground and he observed you.

“I’m sorry for having to keep you here for longer, it’s just not safe to go out there right now?” You told but that seemed to be Sunghoon’s least concern

“But being in here will be better?” He raised an eyebrow and you knew he was right

“Look Sung-“

“How come he said you’re basically not even a real vampire?” Sunghoon cut you off with his question “He said you never bitten anyone before, is that true?”

“How come you don’t disintegrate when you’re out in the sun?” All of Sunghoon’s questions came rushing towards you and your shakily let out a breath

He realized that he was bombarding you with his questions and softly apologized.

“No it’s okay, you have every reason to ask questions”

You sighed rubbing your temple at the mere thought of him, “Don’t listen to his words, he’s just bitter. Yes I am a vampire, but I’m not like the others”

“Unlike him, I can go out during the daytime while he can only come out at night” You explained

“Why is that?” Sunghoon’s words made you shrug your shoulders

“I don’t know either” Afterall it all came down to the ‘boss’ that turned you into a vampire in the first place

You could see his hesitance before he swallowed “What about… You not biting anyone. Is that true?” You nodded your head quickly

“That’s why he said I’m basically not a vampire, I never bitten anyone nor will I ever” There was a silence, he was trying to see if you were lying

“Why? Don’t you have an urge to bite a human?”

“Sometimes it happens, that’s something out of my control but the idea of having to sink my teeth into someone in order for me to survive pushes all that away” Sunghoon was shocked in hearing this, he never expected for a vampire not wanting to sink their teeth into anyone

“Is that why you never bit me?” You nodded your head at his question and you could see a slight relief wash over him

“And you promise to never bite me?” You furrowed your eyebrows as Sunghoon scoffed his seat closer to you

“Wha-“ As he was right in front of you, your breath got caught in your throat as he stared into your eyes

Sunghoon stuck out his pinky towards you and you looked at him with wide eyes. He ushered for you to link your pinky with his. “Promise to never bite me”

“Why do you still want to be associated with me?” You softly asked as his face was right in front of yours and he gave warm smile

“Just because” Sunghoon himself didn’t even know why he wanted to stay close to you, he would’ve run the other way and not look back if it was someone else

But it was you, so he decided to stay.

You looked to his pinky still waiting to be linked with yours. Your gulped harshly before intertwining your pinky with his. Sunghoon smiled at your action before tightening his pinky around yours.

“Cross your heart” He told and you raised an eyebrow at his choice of words

“Cross your still heart that you will never bite me”

Sunghoon found himself over at yours more often than not and always made sure to leave before sundown. At first, you didn’t expect to see him so often especially since you were a vampire but you got used to him.

Even though your heart was still, it wasn’t able to stop the fluttering in your stomach that you weren’t quite sure what it was but you did know it only happened whenever Sunghoon was around.

You admired the flowers Sunghoon had brought you with a soft smile “Where did you even find these?” You asked

“Town was selling them so I wanted to get some for you”

When he saw the flowers being sold, something in his mind(and his heart) yelled at him to get some for you. When he suddenly pulled the flowers from his sleeve to you, the smile you had made him realize why his heart wanted to get you it.

He loved seeing you smile and he loved it even more when he was reason behind it.

“Well they’re beautiful so thank you” You smiled before placing the flowers into a vase and placing them in the middle of the table where Sunghoon was sitting at

“I know this might seem invasive but how did you become a vampire?” You froze and you quickly heard Sunghoon rambling out an apology seeing your reaction but you waved him off

“I-I never wanted to become one. It just sort of happened…” You sighed before you turned to him. “One day I was human and then one day I wasn’t” You told and Sunghoon could see a deeper emotion in you

“You regret it, don’t you?” You smiled sadly before nodding your head

“Every single day”

Sunghoon was going to speak but you interrupted him. “You know you should be heading out soon, sundown is happening soon” You told before replacing the sad smile with a bright one and he knew you were avoiding the topic

You would tell him when you were ready and he was ready to wait as long as he needed to until you were ready. He gave a faint smile before shaking his head.

“I know. I’m just a little tired, figured I could take a nap before I leave”

The two of you knew that wasn’t the case. Sunghoon just didn’t want to leave yet, he was too engrossed in your presence to leave.

You shook your head to him before ushering him up from the seat. “No no if you stay here, I’m going to have to walk you all the way back and you know just how long the walk is” Of course Sunghoon knew how long the walk was. He did it practically everyday just to see you.

If you weren’t staring at him, you would’ve missed the slight frown on his face and this twisted something inside of you.

“Tomorrow. You can stay over tomorrow I promise Hoonie” The usage of the sudden new nickname had him whip his head towards you with wide eyes

His heart hammered against his chest as he stared at you but softly nodded his head as he could feel his cheeks warming up. You smiled to him and waved him goodbye as he walked out of your place. “Get home safely! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Sunghoon waved goodbye to you, an extra bounce to his step as he couldn’t wait

However, not even 30 minutes had passed whenyou suddenly heard a clatter from inside your place. You looked up confused still seeing the sun setting, you furrowed your eyebrows knowing it couldn’t be who usually barges into your place.

But the faint footsteps made your breathe heavy as you didn’t think about it being him, the boss. You quickly got up and ushered out of the room you were in to the noise.

You rushed over to see the flowers Sunghoon had got you knocked over and you felt a rush wash over you but suddenly you heard a noise next to you and you were quick to launch yourself towards it but stopped when you saw Sunghoon standing before you with shocked eyes.

With a sigh of relief, you felt a little more relaxed but you still sent a glare to him. “What are you doing here?!” You yelled and Sunghoon moved his gaze to the floor muttering a soft apology

“I’m sorry you just scared me is all” You sighed

“I was on my way back but I realized I couldn’t- I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow and so I came back and the door was unlocked so I thought I could come in and surprise you but accidentally knocked over the flowers in the process”

“I’m sorry” You heard his explanation before letting out yet another sigh before nodding your head

“Fine you can stay over tonight, it’s already too late for you to leave anyway” Sunghoon gleamed happily knowing that you were going to walk him back just so he didn’t have to stay over

The nickname you had called him never left his mind and with a smug smirk he looked at you and you knew he was up to no good. “So Hoonie huh?” Sunghoon was suddenly shoved away as you quickly left him alone but he was quick to follow you

It was about the reach 3 am and you could see how tired Sunghoon was. “Go get some sleep” You brought him to an untouched bed in the room

“What about you?” He turned with a nervous gulp and you chuckled and shook your head

“Don’t worry the bed is all yours. I don’t need much sleep” You tried to remind him and his mouth was quick to form an ‘O’ shape

“Right forgot” You chuckled before carefully patting his back to go inside the room but right when you were going to leave, you heard him call your name

You turned with a hum wondering what he wanted and you could see he was nervous by the way his eyes fluttered around everyone but at you.

“Stay with me”

You stayed as still as you could not wanting to wake him up. You didn’t even dare to look at him as you could feel something fluttering around in your stomach.

You’ve been staring at the wall for the 30 minutes without a single movement. You were fearful that if you turned to him, it would expose a vulnerability you didn’t even know it was possible to feel something as a vampire, but Sunghoon made the impossible happen like it was nothing.

But something gnawed in your mind and you tried to ignore but you were already turning your head to him and that’s when you knew it was far too late for you.

Sunghoon was peacefully sleeping, the faint moonlight shining through the curtains. Your hand hovered over his forehead as you pushed some hair away as you couldn’t help but fondly smile to him.

Yet, when Sunghoon groggily opened his eyes, your breath got caught in your throat and you froze. He looked up to you hazily and something turned in his heart.

Maybe he was sleep deprived or maybe he was finally allowing himself to feel what’s been in his heart ever since the beginning “You’re beautiful”

You scoffed out a chuckle and retracted your hand from his forehand. “You’re funny”

“Look at me Sunghoon”

“Aren’t you scared of me?” You asked as you turned to fully face him but instead of being met with a grimace, he looked to you like you hung the stars

“Scared of you?”

“I could never be scared of you. You’re devine, perfect, heavenly even”

You knew if your heart was still active, it would’ve been pounding against your chest. Your eyes searched for any signs of fear or lying but there was nothing but love.

Sunghoon raised his head from the pillow as he leveled with you with his lips hovering yours. “Can I kiss you?” You gulped, you shouldn’t, he was a human and you’re a vampire

But you found yourself slowly nodding your head, not trusting your words anymore as your mind became filled with just Sunghoon.

That was all he needed before carefully crashing his lips onto yours. You felt the same electric shock run through you from the first time you had contact with him.

Sunghoon adjusted himself to sit upright, his lips never detaching from yours before cupping your face with one of his hands. Your skin melted in the warmth of him and you could feel like your own body was on fire because of him.

While Sunghoon kissed you with such delicacy, he held you like you were the sole reason for his existence(you were).

The sun was setting yet again and you were trying to get Sunghoon out of your place and back to his own “Go, you’ve already stayed here all day yesterday and today. There’s no way you’re planning to stay another night” You said as he basically clung onto you like koala

“My place is boring and so far. What if the vampires get me when I’m walking back, it’ll be too dangerous” You narrowed your eyes at him as you tried to push him away

“That’s why I told you to leave earlier but you didn’t want to” You huffed out as you ushered him out the door

When he was finally outside your place he gave you a frown and you giggled before waving him goodbye.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” You looked confused at his question but you were shocked when you felt a quick peck to your lips

“Guess I’ll always have to remind you” He smirked seeing your reaction before walking away, a hand in air to wave goodbye

You chuckled and shook your head as you made sure to watch him until he was out of sight. You closed your door with a loopy smile as you remembered Sunghoon just in general.

But you shrieked when you saw someone sitting at your table. “See that you didn’t sink your teeth into him”

“Couldn’t do it? Too in love with him already? Pathetic” He spat as the chair screeched as he abruptly got up and walked towards you, careful to avoid the sunlight coming in through the window

“It’s still sunlight outside, how did you get here?” You sneered

“I’ve been here since last night, wanted to have a quick stop but you were busy” Your glare did not affect him in the slightest “Don’t give me that look, it’s not my fault you were kissing the human”

“You should’ve left” You told as you could see how he was getting closer but you stood your ground

“Oh but what’s the fun in that? Can’t wait to see the look on boss’ face when he finds out you’re getting too friendly with a human” Your eyes went wide before grabbing his collar and pushing him against the wall

“I dare you” You darkly said but all he did was chuckle at your actions

“Don’t test me, I’ll make your world crumble right before your eyes” You knew what he meant by those words and you could feel how he tried to push you off but couldn’t

It was clear who stronger between the both of you and it definitely wasn’t him.

“Touch him or even go anywhere near him and I’ll take care of you myself” You said in a low voice and you could see his smirk growing wider and you felt sick

“Get out of my house” You shoved him off your wall and he laughed menacingly before looking to you

“It’s still daylight outside, I’ll get burn if I leave” He told but you turned your back and didn’t turn back once

“Then burn”

You failed the realize the smirk forming on his face before he took his seat at your table once again, tapping his chin as if in deep thought.

He planned staying true to his words. He was going to make your world crumble right before yours eyes.

You watched as the sun was fully setting and there was still no sign of Sunghoon. You could feel your breath heaving as you waited for his arrival but it never came.

You were going to rush out of your house to go to the town, praying that you were going to find him there safe and sound but you stopped when you heard a knock on your door.

You looked to the door before carefully prying it opening it, hoping that it was just Sunghoon being incredibly late. But right when you slightly opened the door, it was forced open and you stopped.

There stood Sunghoon held by his nape by the very person that told you to sink your teeth into him. But you were confused on how he could even bear being in the sunlight until you saw the two puncture holes on the side of his neck.

He noticed how your gaze found the bite and he laughed. “Relax boss doesn’t like me that much well… That might change but it’s temporary, I only have an hour”

“But boss believed that was more than enough time to-” He looked to Sunghoon who was wincing by the hold on his nape tightening before turning to you again. “-Take care of everything”

You searched over Sunghoon and saw he only had a few scratches but nothing too major. You only let out a small sigh of relief before thinking of every possible way to get him far away from this moment.

“You told him” You told as a statement and seeing how his smile grew impossibly wider, you knew he had told ‘boss’ of what was happening between you and Sunghoon

You were done for but you felt foolish for ever believing that you could have a happily ever after with Sunghoon.

“Let him go. He has nothing to do with this, boss wants to deal with me not him” You told as you grabbed his wrist and tightened your hold on it

You saw how he visibly flinched feeling your hold but you clenched his jaw, trying to show that he wasn’t affected by it. “He was dragged into this the moment you decided to get involved with him” He told

“You have two options. Bite him or take it up with the boss. Choice is yours” You could see how Sunghoon’s gazes flickered onto yours as he heard the word ‘bite’

Your lips shivered as you realized what needed to be done. The tears soon welling in yours eyes made Sunghoon worried about you but he was beyond words when he saw you give your wrist together to the one that held his nape.

“W-what are you doing?” Sunghoon tried to get out of the vampire’s hold but it only tightened around him and he could feel the sudden claws grazing the side of his neck

“No way! You’re giving yourself up for a human?!” The words sunk into Sunghoon’s mind and he saw how you held your head down, your wrist still together

“No. No. Don’t!” Sunghoon yelled to you as he somehow managed to escape the vampire’s grasp, pushing him to the floor to go over to you

Your eyes widen and you quickly grabbed Sunghoon’s arm before putting him behind you from the vampire in front of you. “You’re gonna regret that” He lowly spoke as he rose from the floor

“Do you really think you will win?” You spat as you saw how he visibly grew angrier by your words

It was true. The ‘boss’ who turned you and him into vampires, favorited you by a landslide for reasons unknown to you but it meant you held more strength that he could only imagine of achieving.

“Don’t think you got boss in your corner right now, he was furious to find out you fell for some human” You could feel Sunghoon flinch behind you by his words and you glared at him

You knew your words wouldn’t mean anything but it would have to do for now. “But he still gave me options, didn’t he?” You raised an eyebrow knowing if it were anyone else, ‘boss’ wouldn’t have spare a single glance and get rid of them

“And you’re foolishly taking the wrong one! Just bite him!” You shook your head before peering over your shoulder to see Sunghoon staring at you with wide eyes

“I’d rather lose myself before biting him” You declared still looking to Sunghoon before facing the vampire who only scoffed loudly

“Fine! Tell that to boss. Tell him how you’d rather lay down your pathetic life than to bite some human” He ushered for your arms that held out to protect Sunghoon

Sunghoon held your arm which caused you to look at him as he shook his neck. You could see the faint tears falling from his neck before he bared his neck to you.

“Bite me”

Your eyes widen at his words and you could hear the loud claps from the vampire watching the whole scene but you shook your head before taking his hand off your arm. “Are you crazy?!”

“Bite me” Sunghoon repeated in a serious tone and you couldn’t believe how easily he was willing to sacrifice his own mortality in order to just stay with you

“You heard him, bite him!”

Your head reeled but you detached Sunghoon’s hold off you and you saw how he looked to you with confused eyes. “I promised my still heart not to bite you” You huffed out sadly but as you tried to leave, he quickly grabbed your wrist

“Please bite me. I-I can’t live without you” Sunghoon sobbed out and you could feel your chest ache which you never knew was possible again

“I’m sorry Hoonie, I’m so sorry” You tried to hold back your own tears and pry his hand off your wrist but he didn’t budge

“Please” The way Sunghoon begged turned something in you and you swore for a sliver of a moment, you felt a thump against your chest

“He’s telling you to the bite him, so what are you waiting for. Bite him!” You whipped your head towards the vampire and glared to him which never phased him, he only smirked widely before raising his hands up

You hated how it had to come to this, you didn’t want to leave Sunghoon. He made you feel cared for, seen beyond just being a vampire, and he loved you for you.

He did it like it was breathing for him and yet, here you were, forcing yourself away from him because you couldn’t drag him down the same hole you were desperately trying to crawl out of.

“Goodnight Hoonie, I’ll meet you next life” You gave out one last warm smile before planting a soft kiss onto his tear stained cheek and like a flash, you and the vampire were out of sight

Sunghoon stumbled on his feet when you suddenly disappeared with the vampire and he felt his chest tightened up.

“No. No No” He softly repeated to himself as he looked around before searching your whole place for you but nothing

“No!” He yelled when it finally settled into his mind, he couldn’t even say goodbye to you “No” His knees gave out on him and he went crumbling to the floor

His body curled against the cold floor as his tears never stopped, he tried to hold his body in some sort of comfort but it didn’t feel the same when you weren’t here.

Instead of having your world being the one to crumble, Sunghoon’s world crumbled right before him. “Why couldn’t you just bite me?” He sobbed out

Sunghoon groggily opened his eyes and with a raging headache he winced until he felt a hand against his forehand. His eyes shot opened and there you were.

Right in front of Sunghoon, the greatest thing to ever happen to him. But he tried to get up but couldn’t, he felt like his body was being held down.

He saw how you looked at him with a soft smile as you stroked his hair. “It’s okay Hoonie” The nickname he loved to hear.

“Save me, I’m twisted” Sunghoon knew you were the only person that could save him from the darkness that engulfed him, he was falling deeper by the second

“Please” Sunghoon pleaded as the aching in his still heart took over his being, tears burned his eyes as he stared at you “Heal me” but you never said anything. You only continued to grace his hair with a faint smile.

“Why couldn’t you just bite me?”

With a loud gasp, Sunghoon woke up in a cold sweat as he stared at your ceiling. He knows he should’ve went home long ago but he hasn’t, he couldn’t. He didn’t have the courage to leave your place fearing it would leave you behind.

He wanted to wait until you came back home and be in his arms. He felt a headache rising and he groaned as he held his head as he laid in the cold bed.

As he turned his body, wishing to see you next to him again but all it was an empty space. His arm rested on the side next to him and he swore he could feel you in his arms.

His eyes puffy and heavy from all the crying he’s done and he could feel his throat tightening as he swallowed harshly, why did you have to leave him? Why couldn’t you just turn him into a vampire? He was willing to sacrifice his entire being and soul for you.

But even under all the love and longing he has for you, he couldn’t deny the undeniable anger in him. He desperately wanted to rip the part of him that was molded just to you.

He wanted to forget you, to remove the touches and kiss shared, he wanted (needed) to hate you for leaving. But he couldn’t, he never could.

Yet still, he wanted to destroy everything that had any connection to you. He just couldn’t bear to live with you etched onto his soul and mind (but he forever will).

Sunghoon wanted to take away all of you that was latched onto him which meant having to rip apart his entire existence in hopes of getting rid of the tie to you, but even then he knew deep down it would never be enough.

Your soul was tied with his. No matter how far either of you were a lingering shadow will always follow, a reminder of the other.

You were forever with him and Sunghoon hoped he was forever with you.

But as he tried to get his body up from the bed, he groaned feeling his body weak. His eyes felt heavy again and just when he was going to rest them he heard a whisper in his ear of your name.

Strength surged through him as he immediately sat up in the bed and there stood a person at the foot of the bed. His breath was heavy and he could see how the person smiled widely.

“Ah so you’re the human” The voice spoke and Sunghoon felt shivers run up his spine, he muttered out a small ‘what?’ which made the person laugh

“You’re not the only one to miss her” The voice told and he looked around the room with a heavy sigh “But I needed to do what had to be done. She knew better than to fall in love with you”

Sunghoon suddenly got up from the bed and went towards the person with rage. “How dare you speak like that”

The person raised an eyebrow to Sunghoon’s actions, impressed how he went up to him without hesitation. “Don’t meddle in things that you have no idea about human” The voice spoke amused but patted Sunghoon’s shoulder

Sunghoon shrugged off the hand before staring at the person and through the moonlight he finally got glimpse of what was in front of him and his breath got caught in his throat.

A vampire with sharper fangs than he has ever seen. Red blood eyes and razor sharp nails pointed towards him. Was this the person, the ‘boss’ he always kept hearing about?

“You have guts, I’ll give you that. You two could’ve been so perfect together” The vampire sighed before continuing. “If only she bit you” The vampire shook his head in disappointment.

“What did you do to her?” Sunghoon’s tone was harsh and the vampire was enjoying this, seeing just how perfect Sunghoon could be if he was a vampire just like you

“I saved her” The vampire easily said before walking over to the window in the room and traced the frame with his finger sharp nails. “She made her choice and I didn’t like it so I saved her instead”

The vampire could feel Sunghoon’s glare and the pure anger seething through him and he smirked to himself before turning to face Sunghoon.

“What are you willing to sacrifice?”

Sunghoon stared at him in confusion. The vampire knew that Sunghoon couldn’t possibly understand the depth of his question meant, but he wondered.

Just how far was Sunghoon willing to go just to even get a chance to see a glimpse of you again. “So? What are you willing to sacri-“

“Myself” Sunghoon interrupted, he knew his words held a heavy meaning but the held truth above all, Sunghoon was willing to give up the end of the universe just for you

The vampire laughed loudly hearing Sunghoon’s response. “Now that’s what I like to hear! Let me make you a deal. I promise you get to see her again but it’s going to cost you”

“What will it cost?” Sunghoon’s voice was hoarse and the vampire chuckled before striding towards the frozen Sunghoon and smiled menacingly

“Whatever you’re willing to give up” This sentence whispered in his ear rippled a shiver up Sunghoon’s spine

But before Sunghoon could even respond, it happened all too quickly. The puncture to his bare neck made him dizzy, his eyelids became heavy as he could feel his body changing in an instant. His warm skin suddenly feeling icy cold, a sharp aching in his teeth, and the blaring headache that soon turned into an insatiable hunger.

Sunghoon breathed heavily as he held his neck from the pain and he could see how the vampire smirked seeing his state. The vampire wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before nodding.

“You begged her to bite you and she never did. Think of this as your pleas finally being answered” The vampire spoke. “Plus, I could hear all those twisting thoughts in your head”

“You amaze me. I can see why she was willing to give up everything for you” The mention of you cleared Sunghoon’s head for at least a moment before being overwhelmed

“You’ll see her again, it’s just going to take some time” Sunghoon’s blurry vision cleared as his racing heart stilling to a complete stop.

“Now let me ask you again, what are you willing to sacrifice Park Sunghoon?”

His gaze traveled all over your room and your laughter faintly filled his ear and the feel of your lips on his made his jaw clench. He harshly swallowed down his past life in an instant to make room for his new profound fate.

Sunghoon would give up heaven if he had to for you.

“I’m willing to sacrifice everything”

________________________________________________________

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NEXT CHAPTER -> DILEMMA

[earthlybeam]

Just some random headcanons i think that fit Legolas (my opinion) Request by @justaloserxx

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Legolas version below.

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

What's their love language? Legolas’ love language is a delicate, intimate expression of his deep connection with his significant other. He shows his affection through acts of service, quality time, and physical touch, each one reflecting his nature as an Elf—thoughtful, serene, and attuned to beauty and harmony.

Acts of Service as Legolas’ care for his partner goes beyond the typical gestures. He observes their needs and desires with an unmatched attention to detail. Whether it’s making sure their gear is well-maintained, creating a sheltered space to rest, or ensuring that they’re well-fed with the freshest fruits and herbs, he takes great pride in making their experience as peaceful and pleasant as possible. His love is often expressed in the quiet, everyday tasks that he performs without expecting anything in return. His gifts, too, are subtle but meaningful—an intricately carved wooden bracelet he made himself, a beautifully arranged bouquet of wildflowers he picked on a morning walk, or a rare, perfectly round stone he discovered during his travels that reminds him of their strength. To Legolas, these small offerings are intimate tokens of his affection.

Quality Time To Legolas, time with his partner is an irreplaceable treasure. He finds peace and connection in shared moments of silence, often leading them into tranquil settings where they can escape the chaos of the world. Whether nestled among the trees, gazing out over a sparkling river, or standing atop a high cliff watching the sun set, these moments away from the noise of battle or the daily grind are when he feels most connected. The lack of words in these moments doesn’t feel awkward for Legolas—it feels natural. He loves simply being in the presence of his partner, sharing in the beauty of the world together. Their presence is enough for him.

Physical Touch Although not one to display affection publicly, Legolas’ physical touch is tender and deliberate. A soft brush of fingers as they walk side by side, the warmth of his hand resting briefly on their back when comforting them, or a fleeting but meaningful touch on their arm when they’re near. His reserved nature means that he only shares deeper, more intimate physical affection in private, where he feels safe to be vulnerable. In moments of solitude, he may hold them close, offering gentle, lingering embraces that communicate his love without needing words. His kisses are always slow and deliberate, a soft brushing of lips, an expression of his deep and tender feelings. Legolas is not one to demand attention or grandiose gestures, but the way he expresses his love through actions speaks volumes. Every small gesture, every quiet moment, and every soft touch is his way of showing how much he values and cherishes his partner. For him, love is felt deeply in the smallest of acts, and it’s in these subtle ways that he reveals the depth of his affection.

How do they view their significant other? Are they the light in their life? Best friend? Savior, etc.? To Legolas, his significant other is not just a companion, but a profound presence in his long and often lonely life. He sees them as a source of strength, inspiration, and deep connection, and their relationship brings him a sense of joy and meaning that transcends the passing of time. His Light in the Darkness Having lived for thousands of years, Legolas has witnessed the destruction, pain, and sorrow that often accompany the passage of time. The world has changed, his people have faced endless struggles, and many of his friends and loved ones are gone. But his partner represents something different—a beacon of light in the midst of the shadows. They bring warmth to his heart, reminding him of the beauty in the mortal world, the fleeting but precious nature of life. Their laughter, kindness, and the simple joy they bring to even the darkest days rekindle his own hope. With them, Legolas is reminded that there is still good in the world, and that even amidst loss, love can thrive. His partner is the one who helps him find the beauty in moments he might otherwise overlook.

Best Friend and Confidant In his partner, Legolas finds not just love, but deep friendship. They are his closest confidant, the one person he trusts with his innermost thoughts, doubts, and fears. The unspoken bond between them allows Legolas to share even the things he rarely speaks of—his moments of doubt, the burdens of leadership, the heavy weight of the past. He admires their wisdom and often seeks their counsel when faced with difficult decisions, trusting their judgment above all others. The moments they share together, whether in conversation or in comfortable silence, are sacred to him. Their understanding and empathy offer him a sense of peace, and he finds solace in knowing that no matter the trials they face, they have each other.

A Partner in Adventure as Legolas has always thrived in the thrill of adventure, the challenge of battle, and the beauty of exploration. But with his partner by his side, those experiences take on new meaning. He delights in showing them the world as he sees it—the ancient forests, the vast mountain ranges, the quiet beauty of nature that few others truly appreciate. While his partner may not possess the same longevity or elven grace, Legolas admires their bravery, resilience, and willingness to learn and grow alongside him. He is proud of their courage, and he finds joy in helping them become stronger, guiding them through the challenges they face together. Their partnership is not just about survival—it’s about discovery, growth, and mutual respect. Together, they face the unknown, and that shared experience deepens their bond, strengthening their connection. For Legolas, his partner is not just someone he loves—they are an integral part of his life, his closest friend, and a constant reminder of the hope and beauty that still exists in the world, no matter how much darkness he has seen. They are both his light and his anchor, grounding him while also inspiring him to continue adventuring in this ever-changing world.

How do they act when falling out of love? When Legolas begins to fall out of love, his behavior shifts in subtle, almost imperceptible ways. His deeply ingrained sense of honor and respect for others, especially his partner, means that he would never be openly cruel or dismissive. Instead, he becomes quieter, withdrawing into himself, unsure of how to navigate the complexities of fading emotions. His actions may not be overtly harsh, but those closest to him will notice the change.

Guilt and Inner Conflict as Legolas’ elvish nature compels him to remain true to his emotions, and when those emotions begin to fade, he is struck by an intense sense of guilt. He knows that love is sacred and that his partner deserves someone who can fully return their affection. This causes a deep internal struggle, as he fights to reconcile the warmth he once felt with the growing distance he feels now. He cannot easily brush aside his feelings, and the conflict tears at him, even if he doesn’t show it. While he never intends to hurt his partner, the quiet shift in his demeanor and the absence of the once-present tenderness he showed them speaks volumes. His guilt prevents him from being as affectionate as before, and even simple gestures of love—like brushing their hair from their face or offering a comforting touch—become increasingly rare.

Reluctance to Speak Though Legolas is normally a straightforward and open communicator, when he begins to fall out of love, he struggles to put his emotions into words. His nature is not one to openly address emotional discomfort, preferring instead to withdraw into himself and reflect in solitude. This hesitation to speak can lead to a sense of confusion or distance in his relationship, as his partner might sense something is wrong but cannot easily reach him. Instead of initiating heartfelt conversations or addressing the issues, Legolas retreats inwardly, unsure of how to express his own disconnection without causing further harm. He may distance himself physically as well, pulling away from the intimacy they once shared. In his mind, he hopes that time will either resolve the feelings or that his partner might notice the change and ask what’s wrong. The avoidance of difficult conversations leaves him in a state of quiet turmoil. Despite this, Legolas is not malicious, nor does he seek to cause pain. His actions are borne from a place of internal conflict—he values his partner too much to be deceitful or unkind, but he struggles with how to handle the slow, painful process of falling out of love. In these moments, he is often most conflicted, feeling torn between his sense of responsibility toward his partner and the quiet, inevitable drift of his heart.

Will they do anything for their s/o? Will the crocodile tears win them over or are they stubborn on not giving in? Legolas is unwavering in his devotion to those he loves, offering a loyalty that is profound and unshakable. He will go to great lengths to ensure their happiness and well-being, but this devotion is rooted in a deep sense of respect, honor, and trust. He will not blindly follow, especially if he senses dishonesty or manipulation. Crocodile Tears as Legolas is exceptionally perceptive, and his years of experience have honed his ability to see through deception. If his partner is genuinely in need, he will move mountains to help them, whether it’s protecting them in battle, navigating dangerous terrain, or offering emotional support when they’re struggling. He’s not just a protector in action; he will invest time and energy in making sure their needs are met, and he finds great fulfillment in doing so. However, if his partner attempts to manipulate him—using false tears or exaggerated claims—Legolas will remain firm. His sense of honor and deep respect for truth prevents him from indulging in anything that feels disingenuous. He may not call them out directly, but his actions will become distant and measured. He’ll no longer offer the care and attention he once did, sensing that his trust is being betrayed.

Stubborn Loyalty Once Legolas has committed to someone, that bond becomes one of the most important parts of his life. His loyalty is steadfast, even in the face of adversity. If his partner is in danger, or if they need him in any way, he will put aside his own desires or comfort to help them. This loyalty extends beyond physical actions; it’s a deep emotional commitment as well. If his partner is suffering, Legolas will stay by their side, offering support and solace, even when it’s painful for him. He might take on burdens that aren’t his to carry, because he cannot bear to see his loved one suffer. His devotion comes with a price, but he would willingly pay it to ensure their happiness and security. However, this loyalty also means that once his trust is broken, the consequences are grave. He does not easily forgive betrayal or lies, and even if he still loves someone, he would struggle to ever fully trust them again. Legolas’ devotion is a rare and precious gift, one that he gives only to those who prove themselves worthy. His actions are always thoughtful and deliberate, and he never acts out of impulsiveness. When he commits, he does so fully—willing to make sacrifices and endure hardships, but only as long as his trust remains intact.

How do they kiss? Legolas’ kisses are a rare blend of gentleness and intensity, imbued with the depth of his feelings and the reverence he holds for the one he loves. His approach is thoughtful and deliberate, as if he’s savoring the moment, fully aware of the significance of every touch. Slow and Deliberate When Legolas kisses his partner, he takes his time. His lips brush against theirs in a soft, lingering caress, each kiss purposeful, as though he’s memorizing the sensation. He doesn’t rush, instead allowing the moment to deepen and unfold at its own pace. Each kiss is a quiet confession of his affection, a subtle yet profound way of showing his love.

Cradling Their Face In these intimate moments, Legolas often cradles his partner’s face with his hands. His touch is gentle, but there’s strength in the way he holds them—protective, tender, and full of adoration. He’ll run his thumbs along the contours of their cheeks or gently stroke their jaw, feeling the softness of their skin. This touch is both calming and reassuring, a reminder of his devotion and care.

Deeper Kisses in Private When the world is away and they are alone, Legolas’ kisses grow more intense. There is no rush; the deepening of his kiss is a natural progression, an expression of the passion and love he holds in his heart. His lips move with increasing urgency, though still with the same reverence. He may pull them closer, holding them as if they were the very center of his world. Occasionally, his kisses will trail down their jawline or along their neck, as he savors every inch of their skin. These kisses are full of unspoken words—pure emotions shared through touch. It’s a silent language that expresses more than words could ever convey. Each kiss from Legolas feels like a treasure, rare and precious, a reflection of the deep connection he shares with his partner. It’s a tender act, but one that carries the weight of centuries of unspoken emotion—gentle, but with the quiet intensity of someone who has lived through countless seasons, and yet finds something eternally beautiful in the presence of their loved one.

What's their favorite part of their s/o? While Legolas loves every part of his partner, there are certain qualities that captivate him in ways words can scarcely describe. These features resonate deeply with his Elvish soul, and they remind him of the rare beauty and fleeting nature of mortal life, things he holds precious.

Their Eyes as Legolas is drawn to his partner’s eyes above all else. He believes that a person’s soul is reflected in their gaze, and he finds solace and wonder in the way their eyes communicate emotions without words. Whether it’s the brightness of joy, the softness of vulnerability, or the intensity of shared love, he often gets lost in their depths. He can stare into their eyes for what feels like an eternity, feeling an unspoken connection that transcends time. In their gaze, he sees a reflection of everything that is worth fighting for—hope, beauty, and warmth in a world that has seen so much darkness.

Their Hands as Legolas is captivated by the way his partner’s hands move, the strength they possess, and the softness they convey. He loves how their hands feel in his—whether it’s a gentle touch or the comforting pressure of their palm in his. He admires the way their hands express their personality through small gestures, like the graceful way they wave, the warmth of their touch, or even the way they hold something delicately. To Legolas, holding their hand is a moment of deep peace, a grounding act that connects him to the present and makes him feel secure in their bond. Each of their fingers carries a unique story—one that he treasures deeply.

Their Voice To Legolas, their voice is the most enchanting sound he knows. Whether it’s the soft, melodic way they speak, the warmth in their laughter, or the gentle hum of a song, their voice brings him a sense of calm and joy. He finds himself listening intently to the rhythm of their speech, the way their words seem to paint vivid pictures, or how their laughter sounds like music to his ears. Every whisper, every shared story, is a treasure to him, and he delights in hearing the voice of someone he loves—a voice that makes him feel understood and at home. Each of these features—eyes, hands, and voice—are more than just physical traits to Legolas. They represent a deep connection to his partner’s inner world, a world he has come to cherish and protect. To him, they are the most beautiful parts of his partner, the qualities that embody the love, strength, and vulnerability they share together.

Are they protective? Absolutely. Legolas’ protective nature is woven into his very being, though it manifests in a way that is both gentle and vigilant. He’s not overbearing or suffocating, but rather quietly steadfast in ensuring his partner’s safety and well-being. Trust in Their Abilities While Legolas has great faith in his partner’s strength and intelligence, he cannot help but feel a deep responsibility to look out for them. He admires their courage, and he is always respectful of their autonomy. However, in situations of danger, his instincts kick in, and he takes the lead, though always with a sense of quiet respect for their abilities. He would never act as if they were helpless, but there is a certain comfort in knowing that he’s there to protect them, especially when the threat is too overwhelming.

Keen Senses as Legolas’ Elvish senses are unparalleled. He has the uncanny ability to detect even the faintest hint of danger before others, whether it’s the rustle of a leaf in the wind or the subtle shift of a shadow in the distance. He is often the first to spot threats, whether from creatures lurking in the forest or from hidden dangers in unfamiliar places. This heightened awareness allows him to take swift action to protect his partner, often positioning himself between them and the danger before they even realize the threat exists. A Silent Guardian Despite his vigilance, Legolas’ protective nature is not always loud or dramatic. He will never demand that his partner stay behind or be overly cautious. Instead, he might subtly guide them away from harm, using his presence to create a sense of security. If they’re engaged in battle, he will always position himself in a way that shields them from the worst of the danger, but he trusts them enough to fight by his side.

A Sense of Calm when Legolas’ protection extends beyond physical danger. When his partner is feeling anxious, lost, or overwhelmed, he is there with calming words and a steady presence. His unshakable confidence and sense of purpose help ground them, allowing his partner to feel that no matter the storm, he will always be there to weather it alongside them. In essence, Legolas is protective in a way that is both strong and tender. His commitment to his partner’s safety never feels oppressive; instead, it is a testament to how deeply he cares, a constant reassurance that he will always be there when they need him.

How far will they go to take care of their sick s/o? When his partner falls ill, Legolas’ devotion to their well-being knows no bounds. His love compels him to be incredibly attentive, taking meticulous care of them, and going to great lengths to ensure they are as comfortable as possible. His actions are not just born out of duty, but out of a deep-seated desire to ease their suffering and protect them. Knowledge of Herbs and Remedies as Legolas has an extensive understanding of the natural world, a skill honed over centuries spent living in the forests of Mirkwood. When his partner falls ill, he uses his vast knowledge of plants, herbs, and healing remedies. He’ll gather fresh leaves, flowers, or roots, carefully preparing medicinal teas to soothe a sore throat, create poultices for aches, or concoct calming brews to help them sleep. His gentle hands work with purpose, showing how much he cares in every detail, from grinding herbs to applying soothing oils to their forehead. The aroma of his healing concoctions fills the air, comforting both body and soul.

Comfort and Constant Vigilance as Legolas is rarely far from his partner’s side when they are sick. He ensures they are always warm and comfortable, bringing extra blankets if needed, or making sure the fire remains stoked to maintain a steady warmth. His presence is calming, a silent reassurance that they are not alone in their suffering. Even if they insist on resting, he’ll sit nearby, watching over them, his eyes never straying far. His protective instincts shine through here as well—he’ll adjust pillows, tuck them in, and attend to every little need, whether it’s fetching them water or simply sitting in quiet companionship. Determined to Find the Best Care If their illness surpasses his ability to treat, Legolas’ determination takes over. His connection to the natural world is vast, but his love for his partner makes him willing to go to extraordinary lengths to find someone who can help. If it means traveling across dangerous terrain or leaving the relative safety of his home, he will not hesitate. He’ll seek out the finest healers, ancient remedies, or forgotten magic, even if it means crossing miles of untamed land or seeking counsel from distant realms. He would not let them suffer if he could prevent it, regardless of how far he must journey.

Endless Patience While Legolas’ nature is usually calm and composed, when it comes to caring for his sick partner, he displays an infinite patience. He doesn’t grow frustrated or impatient at their condition; instead, he quietly reassures them, telling stories of their past adventures or speaking of brighter days ahead. His soothing words, though not many, are full of warmth and love. Even when they are too weak to respond, he will continue to care for them, acting as a steady and unwavering source of support. In essence, Legolas will go to any lengths to ensure his partner’s recovery. His care is thorough, patient, and unconditional, his devotion boundless. Whether using his skills with herbs, seeking out the finest care, or simply staying by their side, he will do whatever is necessary to bring them back to health. His love fuels every action, making him not just a protector, but a constant source of comfort and hope when his partner is most vulnerable.

How do they cheer their s/o up when they're down? When his partner is feeling low or burdened by the weight of the world, Legolas is there in a quiet but profoundly supportive way. His method of cheering them up is not through grand gestures, but rather through his deep understanding of their needs and his gentle care. He provides comfort through small, meaningful acts that show his unwavering love and attention to their well-being. Encouraging Nature Walks as Legolas believes deeply in the healing power of nature, and when his partner is down, he’ll invite them to join him for a peaceful walk through the forest or along a riverbank. The soft rustling of the leaves, the scent of fresh pine, and the sight of sunlight filtering through the trees bring a calmness that he hopes will soothe their soul. As they walk, he’ll listen quietly, offering his hand if they need support, letting the natural beauty of the world around them work its magic. Often, during these walks, he’ll point out small details of the environment that they may have overlooked—a hidden flower, the song of a bird, or the way the light dances on the water—reminding them that even in difficult times, beauty can still be found.

Small Tokens of Affection as Legolas has a tender way of showing his love, often giving small, thoughtful tokens to lift his partner’s spirits. Whether it’s a delicate flower he plucked from the forest, a feather he’s found on one of his adventures, or a simple sketch he’s drawn of a scene from their shared memories, these gifts are small but deeply meaningful. Each one is a reminder that they are cherished, and his attention to detail speaks volumes about how much he cares. He often tells them the story behind the gift, making each token even more special—a way to remind them that their struggles are not unnoticed and that he’s always thinking of them.

Quiet Support and Gentle Words as Legolas isn’t one to offer empty words of comfort, but when he speaks, his words carry a quiet, hopeful strength. If his partner needs to talk about their troubles, he listens intently, his eyes filled with understanding and empathy. If they need perspective, he speaks softly, offering a poetic view on their situation. He might say something like, “The dark forest always gives way to dawn. Even the longest night eventually turns to morning. Your strength is like the roots of the trees, deep and enduring. You will overcome this, just as the rivers carve their way through the rock.” His words aren’t rushed; they are chosen carefully, meant to inspire resilience and hope.

Physical Comfort If his partner is particularly down, Legolas might not speak much at all. Instead, he’ll offer them the comfort of his presence. Sometimes a gentle touch on the shoulder or a hand held quietly in his will say more than words ever could. He has a way of making them feel safe and secure simply by being there, his steady energy a constant source of reassurance.

Creating a Quiet Sanctuary as Legolas also knows that sometimes the best way to cheer someone up is by creating a space of calm. He might build a small fire or prepare a quiet evening for them—setting up a secluded spot where they can rest, free from the demands of the world. In these moments, they can share a quiet meal, listen to the sound of the fire crackling, and just be in each other’s company without the need for words. Ultimately, Legolas’ way of cheering up his significant other is not through dramatic gestures but through his deep, steady presence and thoughtful actions. Whether through the beauty of nature, a small gift, or a few well-chosen words, he knows how to lift their spirits in a way that is subtle yet profound. His quiet understanding and unwavering support create an atmosphere where his partner feels not just loved, but truly seen and cared for.

How do they react when they find out their s/o is dead? When Legolas learns of the death of his significant other, the grief he feels is profound and all-encompassing. Though he is an Elf, long accustomed to loss over the centuries, this death cuts deeply. His emotions, however, remain largely private, a quiet storm of sorrow and heartache that he doesn’t easily share with others. Grief and Isolation as Legolas’ first reaction is a deep, silent devastation. He retreats inwardly, shutting off from those around him. His grief isn’t explosive or outwardly angry, but it’s an overwhelming sadness that takes hold of him, leaving him numb. In moments like these, he will seek solace in the forests, away from the noise of others. The wilderness, where he’s always felt connected to the natural world, becomes his refuge. There, he may walk for hours, moving as if in a trance, searching for some sort of peace amid the trees that witnessed so many of his moments of joy with his lost partner. The air is thick with memory, and each familiar path or quiet glade seems to hold echoes of the time they spent together.

Songs of Lamentation as Legolas, ever the poet and lover of beauty, turns to music to express his grief. Alone in the solitude of the woods, he will sing haunting Elvish laments—songs passed down through the ages that speak of loss, love, and eternity. His voice carries with it the weight of centuries, soft yet piercing, the lyrics filled with sorrow. These songs, though in his mother tongue, carry an essence that anyone listening could feel, even if they don’t understand the words. They are not just mournful but deeply soulful, a raw expression of his broken heart. Each note he sings is laden with the memories of their love, the beauty they shared, and the anguish of losing them. His songs are a tribute to the life they lived, to what they meant to him, and to the world that now feels emptier without them in it.

Honoring Their Memory Despite the pain, Legolas is determined to carry on in a way that honors the life they shared. He would never want his partner’s death to be in vain, so he vows to continue living as they would have wanted. He might dedicate himself to causes they cared about or fulfill dreams they had left unfulfilled. To remember them, he keeps a token that belonged to his lost love—perhaps a piece of jewelry, a small trinket, or something that always had significance in their relationship. This token serves as a constant, grounding reminder of the love they shared and the lessons they imparted. It becomes his quiet touchstone, something he often holds when he feels the sting of their absence.

The Weight of Eternity For Legolas, whose life stretches over millennia, the loss of a mortal partner is uniquely tragic. He knows the pain of outliving loved ones, but it’s different with someone so close—someone who was his equal in heart and spirit. His immortality means he will live on, but the pain of losing someone who won’t is one of the hardest truths he faces. And yet, he will find strength in this knowledge, learning to hold their memory within him as a source of resilience. Though the grief may never fully leave him, he will learn, over time, to carry it with grace. In the end, Legolas’ reaction to the death of his significant other is one of profound sorrow, but also a deep reverence for the love they shared. His grief is quiet but unyielding, and his love for them never fades. Even as he moves forward, he does so with the knowledge that their spirit lives on in him, in every song he sings, in every quiet moment he holds their memory close.

What makes them worry about their s/o the most? Legolas’ concern for his partner’s well-being runs deep, and his worries are often tied to the stark contrast between his immortality and their fleeting mortal lives. His love for them is tender, yet filled with an underlying anxiety, as he knows that they are vulnerable in ways he is not. The greatest source of Legolas’ worry is the knowledge that, unlike himself, his partner’s life is fragile and finite. This disparity is something he struggles to reconcile. Despite the beauty of the mortal world and the bond they share, the knowledge that one day they will age, grow frail, and eventually pass away fills him with sorrow and dread. Every moment spent with them is both a blessing and a reminder of the inevitable. He often finds himself holding them a little tighter, gazing at them a little longer, knowing that these precious moments are limited. He worries about them in the quiet hours, especially when they show signs of weariness or sickness, as every ache or ill turn of the season reminds him of their limited time. The thought of losing them is something he can hardly bear, and yet, he faces it with a kind of resigned acceptance that weighs heavily on his heart.

Legolas admires his partner’s courage—especially if they’re someone who is willing to take risks in order to help others or to protect the ones they love. However, this bravery can also make him anxious, particularly when it leads them into dangerous situations. Whether they venture into the woods to confront a threat or pursue an adventure that might be beyond their abilities, he can’t help but worry. He’s seen too much of the world’s dangers—creatures, orcs, and perilous terrain—and the thought of his partner being exposed to such risks makes him uneasy. Though he will never stifle their spirit or desire to fight for what’s right, he can’t help but feel the weight of concern, especially when they act impulsively or rashly. His love for them makes him want to keep them safe, yet he knows that their courage is part of what makes them so special. So he worries quietly, his protective instincts sharpening with every close call or dangerous situation they put themselves in.

Illness or Injury Knowing that mortals have a more fragile constitution than elves, Legolas is particularly sensitive to even the slightest indication that his partner is unwell. A cough, a bruise, or a small cut can trigger a wave of concern in him that others may see as disproportionate. He’s well-versed in the healing arts and the use of natural remedies, but he is always conscious of how easily mortals can succumb to illness or injury. When his partner falls ill, even with something as simple as a cold, Legolas’ anxiety heightens. He will carefully monitor them, ensuring they have everything they need, from warm blankets to healing herbs, and will refuse to leave their side until they’re fully recovered. His worry extends to any sign of fatigue or injury—when they’re wounded, no matter how minor the injury may seem, it pulls at his heart. He cannot bear the thought of them being in pain, and if they ever endure an injury that cannot be easily healed, the grief is almost unbearable for him. These worries, while rooted in his deep love for his partner, also highlight the essence of Legolas’ internal conflict: his desire to protect them from all harm, and his ultimate powerlessness to shield them from the inevitabilities of mortality.

How often do they stare lovingly at their s/o? For Legolas, his love for his partner is something that he constantly observes, as if capturing the beauty of their presence in every fleeting moment. His affinity for them manifests in his gaze—an unspoken, constant adoration that never quite leaves him. Almost Constantly Legolas’ sharp elven eyesight allows him to take in the details of his partner’s movements with an ease that most would overlook. Whether they are deep in conversation with someone else, moving through a crowd, or simply standing still, Legolas is always aware of their every action. His eyes linger on them without being obvious, finding solace in the soft curve of their smile or the way the sunlight catches their hair. These moments, brief as they are, fill him with an overwhelming sense of warmth and affection. His gaze becomes more intense in quiet moments—when they are simply sitting together in the stillness of nature or walking side by side through the woods. It is a silent way for him to cherish them without ever needing to speak the words.

Subtle Glances Even when they’re within arm’s reach, Legolas can’t help but steal glances. His love is reflected in his quiet admiration, his expression softening into a fond smile whenever their eyes meet, even for the briefest of moments. When he catches them looking at him, there’s a spark of joy in his eyes, a silent connection between them. His gaze will soften with affection, and he’ll often look away quickly, only to glance back again a moment later. His appreciation for them is written on his face—his love is gentle and patient, always lingering in the way he watches them, silently taking in their essence as if committing each detail of their presence to memory.

In Quiet Moments When they’re alone, he is less reserved in his admiration. If they sit together in a quiet spot, like a tranquil grove or beside a fire, Legolas will gaze at them openly, his eyes filled with admiration. His gaze is often accompanied by a small smile, one that’s personal and private, as if they share a secret that only the two of them understand. When they aren’t speaking, he might still be watching them—letting his gaze fall on their features, the curve of their neck, the gentle movement of their hands. It is a way for him to revel in their beauty and presence, feeling a deep sense of peace when they are near him.

Secret Glances as we all know Legolas’ love also manifests in the more hidden moments, when he thinks no one is looking. In crowds or during shared moments with others, he will find opportunities to glance at his partner when their attention isn’t on him. His eyes will briefly flicker over their face, always with the same tenderness, before he looks away. These secret glances are a silent reminder to himself of how much he cares. He may find himself watching them as they talk to others, noting the way their laugh lights up their face or how they tilt their head when listening. These glances are never meant to be seen, but in them, there is an intimacy—a quiet understanding that only he fully knows. They are a way for him to steal precious moments with his partner, savoring their presence even when they’re not directly engaging with him. Every glance, whether fleeting, prolonged, or secret, carries with it the depth of Legolas’ love—a quiet adoration that he expresses through the simple act of watching them, savoring the time they have together.

How do they impress their s/o? For Legolas, impressing his partner is not about seeking praise or admiration; rather, it’s about showing them his skills, knowledge, and deep devotion in the most subtle and meaningful ways. His expressions of love are intertwined with his sense of honor and grace, showcasing his desire to keep them safe and cherished. Legolas’ talent with the bow and his agility in combat are legendary, but he doesn’t show them off for attention. When the opportunity arises, he’ll demonstrate his prowess in a way that feels effortless and natural—whether by swiftly and accurately shooting an arrow at a target or performing an elegant combat maneuver. It’s not about impressing them with his skill, but rather offering them reassurance that they are protected. His grace in movement, especially when traversing difficult terrain, will often make them watch in awe as he moves through the forest or climbs with the ease of a creature born to the trees. These displays, while showing his strength and abilities, are a subtle reminder that, with him by their side, they are safe and cared for.

Knowledge and Stories as Legolas is an Elf who has lived for centuries, and his experiences in the world have granted him an incredible wealth of knowledge. When he shares these stories with his partner, he does so with the quiet enthusiasm of someone who finds joy in imparting wisdom. He might recount tales of ancient kingdoms, forgotten lands, or adventures with friends and companions from ages past. His voice, soft and melodic, carries the weight of history, making his stories captivating. Through these tales, his partner learns not just about the world, but also about his deep connection to it. They’ll come to realize that Legolas is not just a skilled warrior, but also a man of wisdom, respect, and ancient beauty—a timeless spirit who holds the world’s secrets in his heart. His knowledge of nature, the stars, and the intricacies of the world around them are often shared in quiet moments, where he’ll point out the constellations or explain the significance of a particular flower or tree. Through these stories, he shows the depth of his affection by revealing the richness of his soul.

Thoughtful Gestures as Legolas doesn’t rely on grand displays or material gifts to show his love; instead, he showers his partner with small, meaningful gestures. A woven garland of flowers, collected during a quiet walk through the woods, might be draped over their head as a simple token of his affection. He may carve a small figurine from wood or stone—perhaps an animal or tree—something that reflects their personality or their shared connection with nature. These gifts, though humble, hold profound significance because they are made with care and attention to detail. He might also surprise them with carefully chosen items—something as small as a rare flower he’s found on his travels or a delicate leaf from a tree he knows they love. These gestures come from a place of deep understanding and affection, showing that he pays attention to the little things that make them unique.

Quiet Acts of Service Another way Legolas impresses his partner is through actions rather than words. Whether it’s building a shelter, lighting a fire, or ensuring their safety in battle, his every movement is driven by his desire to take care of them. These acts of service, though seemingly small, speak volumes about his commitment and love. He never hesitates to step in and help with whatever is needed, and his efforts are always done with a quiet elegance that mirrors his nature. It’s in these simple, everyday moments that his love is expressed most strongly—through the way he looks out for them and tends to their needs.

In Moments of Vulnerability While Legolas is strong and capable, he also has moments of quiet vulnerability with his partner. In these rare moments, he opens up about his past—the pain of watching the world around him change, the loss of friends and loved ones, and his sense of loneliness in a world that has moved on without him. Sharing these deeper, more intimate aspects of himself is a way for him to impress his partner, not through grandeur, but through the honesty and trust he places in them. It’s his way of saying that he values them enough to let them see the side of him that is not often revealed to others. Through all these actions, Legolas impresses his partner not with superficial charm or grand gestures, but with a genuine, unwavering devotion that proves he is a partner of unparalleled depth and loyalty. His love is as enduring as the ancient forests he adores—a perfect balance of passion, thoughtfulness, and devotion.

Extra bonus (these parts just for fun, love writing them 😈🙈)

𖧧 Legolas talks to the trees As a child of the forest, Legolas has a deep bond with trees. Sometimes, when alone, he can be seen standing with his back against a great oak or whispering to the wind through the leaves. It’s a calming ritual, as if the trees are offering him their wisdom. (I think this is well known fact 🤌)

𖧧 He’s a people-watcher, Legolas finds humans and other races fascinating to observe. Their mannerisms, expressions, and the way they interact with each other intrigue him. He’ll often sit in the background during campfires or gatherings, quietly watching people and analyzing their behaviors. He finds comfort in observing the complexity of mortal life.

𖧧 He dislikes wearing jewelry Despite Elves being known for their ornate jewelry and accessories, Legolas is very minimalist. He doesn’t wear rings or necklaces, feeling they are unnecessary distractions. The only piece of jewelry he wears is a simple pendant that has sentimental value, but he rarely takes it off. As the Prince of Mirkwood, he also dislikes wearing his regal Elven attire, which his father often insists he wear for formal events. Legolas finds the elaborate robes and crowns uncomfortable and feels stifled by the royal expectations, preferring the simplicity of his everyday attire or battle gear.

𖧧 He gets homesick Even though Legolas has roamed Middle-earth for many years, the call of his home in the forest is always a pull on his heart. When he’s away from the forests of Mirkwood for too long, he becomes quietly withdrawn, and there’s a subtle sadness in his eyes.

𖧧 He likes to hide things in his hair: Legolas has long, golden hair, and he sometimes hides small items in it when he’s on the move. It might be a leaf he found during his travels or a small token from someone important to him. He enjoys the secretive nature of it and the way it connects him to moments or people from the past. (Probably has comb in hair, that’s why his hair always neat and tidy 🤣)

𖧧 He has an odd fascination with clouds When he’s not staring at the stars, Legolas is fascinated by clouds. He finds the way they change shape and color over time to be incredibly calming. Occasionally, when there’s nothing else to do, he’ll lie on his back and watch them shift across the sky, lost in their endless movement.

𖧧 He’s surprisingly bad at keeping secrets While Legolas is generally reserved, if someone tells him something exciting or important, he has a hard time keeping it to himself. He’ll drop hints or sneak looks in the direction of the person he wants to tell. Eventually, his curiosity gets the better of him.

𖧧 He hates shoes as Legolas finds shoes to be incredibly restricting. As an elf, he’s used to feeling the earth beneath his feet, and the thought of covering them up seems unnatural. When he’s not in combat or on formal missions, he prefers to go barefoot or wear sandals if absolutely necessary. The feel of shoes makes him uncomfortable, and he’ll often take them off as soon as he can.

𖧧 He always remembers small details about people as Legolas has an extraordinary memory. He remembers the smallest details about people, like their favorite flowers, a funny thing they said once, or a quiet moment shared. He holds these memories dear, using them to make his loved ones feel special.

𖧧 He hums when he’s alone, Legolas has a habit of humming elvish songs when he’s alone, lost in thought. It’s a soothing, melodic sound that gives him peace and connects him to his roots. Sometimes, he’ll even hum while working—such as cleaning his bow or preparing arrows.

𖧧 He’s an early riser As someone accustomed to the rhythms of nature, Legolas wakes up with the sun. While the rest of the group is still sleeping, he enjoys the quiet moments of dawn, where he can gather his thoughts, check his surroundings, or just meditate in the calm light of morning.

𖧧 He values silence over conversation While Legolas is capable of deep and meaningful conversations, he values silence just as much. He believes that some moments are best shared in quiet, especially when he’s with someone he trusts deeply. There’s a deep peace in simply being present with another person without words.

𖧧 He’s a hopeless romantic, but can’t express it as Legolas has deeply romantic feelings but finds it incredibly awkward to express them. He often gets tongue-tied, tries to be overly composed, and ends up saying something completely embarrassing, like, “You… uh, have a good… um, presence?” His attempts to be smooth always backfire, and while his partner might think it’s endearing, he’s mortified and immediately retreats to the safety of the forest to avoid further embarrassment.

𖧧 He gets overly excited about simple things if Legolas is calm and composed most of the time, but there are certain simple pleasures that make him childishly excited. For example, if someone offers him a particularly delicious fruit or if he stumbles upon a beautiful flower he’s never seen before, his face lights up with genuine joy. He might go on about it for longer than necessary, rambling about how amazing it is, much to the amusement of those around him. (golden retriever energy ✨🙌)

𖧧 Always Eavesdropping (Accidentally) Legolas has exceptional hearing, so when he’s in the company of others, he sometimes picks up on conversations that aren’t meant for him. This leads to him overhearing awkward or private discussions. He tries to look nonchalant and avoid drawing attention to himself, but his facial expressions betray him. His eyes widen, his eyebrows furrow, and occasionally, his mouth twitches like he’s trying to stifle a laugh or an awkward comment. He quickly clears his throat and pretends like he didn’t hear anything.

𖧧 Loves to Fidget When he’s not in a battle or on a mission, Legolas often fidgets with small things—like running his fingers along a piece of fabric or flipping a stone between his fingers. It’s his way of soothing himself, especially during moments of rest or when he’s feeling anxious. The problem is, his fidgeting can sometimes distract others, especially if he starts playing with something in the middle of a serious conversation.

𖧧 Avoiding Eye Contact (In a Sweet Way) Legolas has trouble making and maintaining direct eye contact during intense or emotional moments. He might glance away when saying something vulnerable or when he’s trying to process his feelings, often focusing on something nearby, like a tree branch or his boots, rather than looking directly at the person he’s speaking to.

𖧧 Not a Fan of Surprises as Legolas dislikes sudden, loud noises or surprises, especially when they break his focus. A loud crash or someone jumping out from behind a tree will leave him momentarily startled, and it takes him a while to regain his composure. It’s not that he’s scared—it’s more that it throws him off balance and leaves him feeling a little frazzled. He likes to know everything that’s going on around him, and unexpected events disrupt his sense of control. If something catches him off guard, you might catch him muttering to himself, trying to process what just happened or mentally preparing himself for the next surprise.

𖧧 Struggles with Small Talk While he’s excellent in meaningful, deep conversations, casual chatter often leaves Legolas at a loss for words. He might give awkwardly long pauses after simple questions like “How’s your day going?” or offer overly detailed answers to “What’s up?” It’s not that he’s rude—it’s just that he doesn’t quite grasp the point of small talk, preferring more substantial exchanges.

𖧧 He has odd sleeping habits. Or rather, trancing habits. Sometimes, he’ll stand perfectly still, eyes wide open, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was awake. (This video perfect 🤣🤌)

𖧧 He names everything. His knives, his arrows, even the random squirrel following him on the journey. (Named it rondir), A Tree He Sleeps In, A Random Rock He Finds Beautiful, His canteen. Literally he names everything. Everything deserves a name, according to Legolas.

𖧧 Legolas’ Very Expressed Face: Legolas is incapable of masking his emotions, and his face is an open canvas for every feeling he experiences. Whether it’s a quiet moment of reflection, intense concentration, or a fleeting thought, his face shifts and molds accordingly. His eyebrows often lift in surprise or furrow in concern, and his eyes shine with joy or narrow with suspicion. Even when he tries to maintain composure, his emotions are so deeply etched into his expressions that it’s nearly impossible to hide them. His face constantly gives him away, so anyone who knows him well can tell exactly what he’s thinking—be it amusement, frustration, or admiration—just by the subtle (or not-so-subtle) changes in his features. It’s both endearing and, at times, a little amusing to those around him, as his feelings are almost always written all over his face. (Example of what I mean here can’t hide his expression 😂 being sassy bitch 💅✨)

[abswife]

stranger

you find yourself alone at a party and want nothing more than some peace and quiet. but the cute girl with the braid seems to have other ideas.

cw// smut with little plot, top! abby, bottom! reader, drinking, nicotine, fingering, cunnilingus, reader's appearance is not mentioned other than being afab and having hair, abby is a sweet respectful baby

this is my first fic for abby so sorry if it kinda sucks :/

word count: 3k+

__

The accelerated bass made the whole house shake, though you’d never be able to tell with the sea of bodies that flooded every room. People jumped up and down, spinning and shimmying to the rhythm of some generic trap song. You could hardly make out the shape of the living room you were in, what with all the gyrating college students and flashing lights. You’d lost track of your friends long ago. They were likely in the midst of the chaos, dancing to their heart's content, or had already left with someone to spend the rest of the night with. Not that it mattered, this isn’t your first party. Having gotten through almost three full years of school allowed for plenty of time to get used to the ragers your school’s frats would throw. 

Someone suddenly knocked their elbow into your arm, making the liquid in your plastic cup slosh onto the floor and on your shirt. 

“Fuck.” You muttered, not bothering to say anything to the culprit considering you weren’t even sure who had done it. 

Having had enough of being jostled by the people nearest you, you made your way through the crowd toward the back door. You successfully managed to reach it, and downed what was left of your drink as you swung the door open. The cool air rushed over your face, and immediately you felt much less overwhelmed. You stepped out on the small patio, closing the door behind you. There were a few other people out here, mostly couples that wanted somewhere calmer to talk or makeout. Though, it was kind of hard to see with the only light coming from the small porchlight and the colorful flashes through the windows. Setting your now empty cup on a small table near the door, you walked down a few steps before plopping down onto the edge of the wood. You pulled your vape out of your pocket, taking a big hit. You weren’t a big smoker, but alcohol always seemed to worsen the habit. The air was colder than you initially thought, and you tugged your denim jacket closer to you. 

“It’s pretty cold out here, huh?” A voice behind you spoke up. You turned, and your eyes fell upon a tall, blonde woman. Her hazel eyes were slightly watery, likely from the wind that blew toward her face. She had on a bulky jacket, but you could tell she had a muscular frame under it nonetheless.

You blinked, unsure what to say. “Yeah, but it is February,” You said, cringing slightly at yourself. You turned back around, hoping that would be the end of that awkward interaction. However, she sat down on the step next to you, resting her elbows on her knees. The stairs weren’t very big, and no one else would be able to get through with both of you sitting there, but you didn’t really care. You looked over at her, raising your eyebrows. She gave you a soft smile, then her gaze drifted down to your vape.

“Can I get a hit?” She asked, gesturing toward it. You thought for a moment, then shrugged and handed it to her. She raised it up in a way that said ‘cheers’ and then took a hit from it, handing it back right after. You watched her as you grabbed it back from her grasp. She looked out into the yard as she held the vapor in her lungs for a few moments before blowing it out through her nose, the smoke curling through the air around her face. She glanced back over at you, and you blushed and looked down, realizing you were caught staring at her. When you met her eyes again she had a small smirk painting her face. Immediately, you copied her actions before, facing the grass and taking a hit. As you exhaled, you slipped it back into your breast pocket. 

“What’s your name?” The woman asked, causing you to face her again. You told her your name, then asked the same question. “I’m Abby.” She said, flashing her pearly teeth. You just noticed that she had freckles sprinkled over her nose. 

“Are you a freshman? How come I’ve never seen you before?” You asked, even though you could tell you guys were the same age. She chuckled and shook her head, rubbing her hands together. 

“No, no. I’m a junior. I just don’t tend to come to stuff like this. I’m pre-med so I don’t usually have the time.” She explained, brushing away stray hairs that had fallen from her braid. You hummed in acknowledgement. You didn’t know many other pre-med majors, so it took you by surprise to meet one at a party. Though, it made sense, that seemed like the sort of study that wouldn’t have much free time. 

“So, do you approach strangers like this in the cafeteria or…?” You questioned, slightly teasing her. Her eyes widened and for a moment you worried you’d offended her, but then she laughed. Her head hung down, forehead almost hitting her thumbs where they clasped atop her knees. When she looked back up at you, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Just the pretty ones.” She said, and the ease with which the flirtatious words came from her lips embarrassed you. You bit your lip and looked away, the heat from your cheeks letting you know you were sporting a light blush. You hadn’t expected this very attractive stranger to hit on you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. Another chuckle sounded through the air, and you knew she was amused at your reaction.

You weighed your options. 1. You could feign disgust, and get up. This is the easiest route, considering it meant you could leave this party and go back to your apartment, spending the rest of your night in peace. 2. You could lightly turn her down, and then disappear back into the crowd of people, drinking to your heart's desire. 3. You could flirt back. Who knew what would happen if you did that? Number three was tempting, though you were afraid of making a fool of yourself.

 ‘Fuck it’, you thought. You turned back to her and smiled lightly.

–

Her keys jingled in her unsteady grip as she desperately tried to put the right one in the lock. Admittedly, you weren’t of much help, considering you wouldn’t stop kissing her for even a second. Even when she wrenched her lips away to actually look at what she was doing, you moved your kisses down her jaw and across her throat. She swore, then finally managed to unlock the door, swinging it open and pushing you inside. You giggled at her urgency, and gripped her jacket to pull her in with you. She kicked the door shut behind her as she reattached herself to your lips. You shoved each other’s jackets off, and she led you to her bedroom. Your back briefly met the door before she opened it and continued to walk you backwards towards her bed. 

The back of your knees hit the mattress making you fall backwards onto your butt. She rucked her shirt up and off, throwing it into the corner. You took the chance to admire her. You had been right about her being muscular. She had soft abs and big arms, and her sports bra covered her broad chest. You bit your lip and reached up to the nape of her neck, pulling her back down toward you. She willingly let you, and put one of her knees on the bed beside your thigh. She practically lifted you to move you further back on the bed, then properly straddled your hips. You slipped your hand into her hair as best as you could with it still neatly braided, and scratched her scalp as you kissed her. She groaned at the feeling and gripped your waist, thumbs slipping under your shirt. Your other hand found its way to her waist, and you ran your fingers over the muscles of her stomach. She pulled back to slip your shirt up slightly, before looking in your eyes.

“Is this okay?” She asked, hands shaking with anticipation where they held the hem. You couldn’t help but smile at her. Instead of replying, you helped her take the clothing item the rest of the way off, and then reached behind your back to undo your bra. She gulped as you pulled the straps down your arms, letting your tits out for her to see. The cold air in her room made your nipples instantly harden, and you grabbed the back of her neck again, attempting to drag her back down to kiss you. She resisted a moment, still wanting to look at your breasts, but gave in and leaned back down to your lips. You arched your back, pushing your chest into hers, and the feeling made you shiver. You panted as she began to kiss your neck, a hand gliding up from your waist to cradle the underside of your breast. Her thumb brushed across the soft skin, not yet touching where you wanted her to. A whine bubbled up in your throat when she sucked at a spot in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

As she finally began to palm your full breast, you pulled the hair tie from the end of her braid, sliding your fingers through her locks to undo it. Her lips continued to trail down, kissing the skin of your left tit before taking your nipple into her mouth. You sighed and gripped her hair, making her groan again. You took note of how she seemed to like having her hair played with and pulled. She grazed her teeth over your nipple and you swore under your breath. Her responding chuckle sent heat directly to your core, and you suddenly remembered that you both still had pants on. 

“Pants. Off.” You managed to get through heavy breaths. Her lips detached from your breast with a ‘pop’ as she looked up at you with an amused smile. You could see the internal conflict over whether to make a joke about your condition, however she must have decided against it as she sat back on her knees to unbutton your jeans. You lifted your hips to help her shimmy them down your legs, and she tossed them over her shoulder. Her hands met your hips and her fingers ran over the top of your underwear. The pads of her middle and pointer finger lightly pressed over your clit through the fabric, further dampening the material. 

You grabbed a pillow and slid it under your head, gripping the sides of it. Abby continued to barely apply pressure over your underwear as she admired you under her. Her obvious staring embarrassed you slightly, and you raised an arm to cover your eyes. You hear her huff a breath through her nose, and then some shuffling. Becoming curious, you removed your arm from your eyes. She had taken off her bra, her small tits now free, and had started moving down to lay on her stomach. Her hands drifted to the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart lightly. You made eye contact as she kissed from the inside of your left knee down to the junction between your thigh and groin. 

You bit your lip, desperate for her to continue her path. However, she quickly changed direction, lips trailing their way back up. Then she switched to the other side, giving the same treatment. You bucked your hips up, seeking friction. The corner of her lips turned up, clearly entertained by your neediness. She reached a hand up to rub at your clit through the material again, a little firmer this time, while she sucked marks onto your skin. You felt your breathing pick up again, and you grasped at the sheets. The attention she was giving you was nice, but not enough. 

You huffed out, “God- Abby, please.” You were too shy to fully articulate what you wanted and hoped she would just know. 

She lifted her mouth from where she had been sucking at your inner thigh, and gave it an extra lick before asking, “What?”

You knew she was just teasing you, wanting you to actually tell her what you wanted her to do. However, you were nothing if not stubborn. “T-touch me, please.” You breathed out.

She hummed, changing the movement of her thumb to run over your whole slit, occasionally catching your clit. “But, I am touching you.” She said, and pushed your right leg further out, emphasizing her point. You groaned in frustration and clenched your eyes shut, trying to work up the courage to actually do what she wanted.

You opened your eyes and looked back down where she was waiting patiently with a smile that made you want to punch her and kiss her at the same time. “Take them off and touch me.” You pleaded, cheeks burning. Abby hummed again, as though considering what you said. Apparently that had been satisfactory since she hunched over slightly to hook her fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off and flinging them across the room. 

It was her turn to bite her lip as she gazed at your unclothed pussy, wetness spread all over your labia. She spread your legs back out, making ample room for her broad shoulders. She settled back on her stomach, but leaned over to one side in order to reach her hand up. She used two fingers to spread your lips open, putting your full core on display for her. You whined out and palmed your breasts, needing some kind of stimulation. You could feel yourself becoming wetter by the second, the seemingly eternal teasing leaving you desperate and on edge. The pads of her fingers found your clit and she made slow, broad circles over it. Unable to handle the overwhelming sensation, you threw your head back and sighed. It took all over your concentration not to cant your hips up. 

You almost cried when you felt her fingers leave your clit until you realized she was prodding at your entrance. You look down, and her eyes are fixed on your pussy. She slowly pushed a finger in, and the intrusion is not particularly pleasurable. However, she quickly crooks her finger up towards your stomach, and the new angle has you biting back a moan. Her fingers are thick, a fact you had somehow missed until now. She slowly rocked her finger in and out, transfixed on the way you seemed to pull her in deeper. Your hips jumped involuntarily, and she used her other hand to press on your lower stomach, effectively holding you down. 

Finally, she looked back up at you, a smug look overtaking her features. Maintaining eye contact, she leaned her head down and pressed a kiss against your clit before licking a broad strip up your folds. The unexpected feeling made you let out a quiet yelp and your hand shot down to hold the top of her head. She hummed, as though she was appreciating your taste, and then continued her languid ministrations. You couldn’t help but let your moans free now, unable to conceal them because of the overwhelming pleasure. The vibrations from her moans added to the feeling, and you could feel yourself squirming despite her hold on your lower half. 

She detached her mouth from you and asked, “Does that feel good?” Then immediately dove back in. You were sure it was really a courtesy, considering the sounds you were making. Even so, you breathed out an ‘uh-huh’ and combed your fingers through her blonde locks. 

It was almost embarrassing. Your shameless moans and the wet sounds of her finger plunging inside you were the only noise in the room, but you couldn’t find it in you to care in your current state. The only thing you could focus on was the blissful pleasure Abby was giving you. She swirled her tongue in circles around your clit, and then funneled her lips around it to suck it into her mouth. You arched your back and gasped. Sweat started to form on your face and neck, making your hair stick to your skin. 

Just when you thought that it couldn’t feel any better she suddenly added another finger without slowing down. A particularly loud cry slipped from your lips, and you gripped her hair. She moaned unabashedly, licking at you faster. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and tried to shut your legs around her. She used her free hand to grab your thigh and push your leg up towards your chest and out, effectively keeping you open for her. Your hand that wasn’t in her hair fisted the pillow under you, and you turned your head to try to bury your face in it. The pace of her fingers didn’t falter as she lifted her head to say, “Cum for me. C’mon, you can do it. Cum on my fingers.” 

Her words sent you over the edge, and you let out a strangled whimper as your legs trembled. She kept fucking you through it, slowing her pace as you gradually came down. You gasped for air, panting like you just ran a marathon, and released your hold on her head. You could feel her kissing your thighs as she gently removed her fingers. You watched as she brought them up to her mouth, sucking your juices off of them. The pornographic sight made you flush, and you covered your face with your hands. You could hear her moving around, and then she wrapped her hands around your wrists and pulled your palms from your face. She flashed you a beautiful smile, and pecked you on the lips.

“Was that good?” She asked, settling onto her side next to you. You were still trying to catch your breath, and the question made you laugh. “Uh, yeah. I thought that was obvious.” You answered, turning over to face her. She smiled brighter and placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer. You nuzzled into her, your face finding a home in her neck. Your breathing finally settled, and she rubbed your spine up and down. Sleep began to overtake your body, and you fought to stay awake. “You can sleep, it’s okay.” Abby said, pressing her nose into the crown of your head. Her reassurance soothed you, and you allowed yourself to drift off in her arms.

[hyorijie]

Hi, I don't know if you're doing any requests at the moment, but if you are, can you do an Alastor x Reader where Reader and Alastor were Ex-lovers from their past life, and then they meet again, when Charlie decides to host a Halloween speed dating event, and the two are paired together?

I loved your request, I hope you like it. ♡

Between masks and shades

Alastor x Reader - Halloween date

Tags Ex-lovers, Speed dating, Halloween decorating, Awkward conversations, memories, masks, Alastor is not good with his feelings, resolutions, a bit of angst.

The darkest season of the year was beginning to make its way into the underworld. The air thick with malice, it seemed to tremble with anticipation, as if even in this corner a rare thrill was allowed with the arrival of Halloween.

Amidst the loosely controlled chaos, Charlie, Princess Morningstar, glimpsed a unique opportunity - what better time than Halloween to unite the hotel's inhabitants in something different? While convincing them would not be easy, she knew she could excite anyone with enough conviction.

So the idea was born; a Halloween party with a twist, something that would allow the damned souls, if only for one night, to rest in peace from their eternal woes. And its main attraction would be a "Speed Dating" event, an opportunity for ghouls, lost souls and other hotel tenants to establish a connection, a spark of humanity, or at least a fleeting distraction in the midst of purgatory.

Festive posters began to appear in every nook and cranny inside and outside the hotel, covered in cobwebs and smiling pumpkin drawings. They said in big, bold letters, "Find your soul mate! Halloween Speed Dating Event." You found yourself standing in front of one of those posters, looking at it with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. Since your arrival, fitting in had been a painful process.

This place, with its crushing atmosphere, seemed to mock your attempts to live in peace, leaving you mired in frustration. But above all, what kept a spark alive in your heart was the memory of someone special. A love lost in life, a face that kept appearing in your dreams, so clear you could almost feel its presence. That love, irreplaceable and taken away from you, was the only thing that still made you resist in the midst of the gloom. And without realizing how, you were already walking into the hotel lobby, the festive decorations absorbing you in their charm.

Pumpkins glowed with an orange glow, and autumn leaves seemed to float with a life of their own, giving the space an enchanted air. You had the feeling that the hotel itself was breathing. Suddenly, a floating tray glided towards you, with a decorated mask and next to it, a card, it looked like something custom-made. The startling glow called to you, and engraved in incandescent glare could be read, "To know true love, you must know the soul."

You took the mask, feeling the smooth texture under your fingers, and put it on, noticing how it fit your face perfectly, almost transforming who you were into someone else. It was then that a cheerful voice echoed through the room.

—Welcome! — A glowing figure at the front of the room exclaimed. It was Charlie, his hair contrasting dramatically against a golden mask and a red dress that seemed to glow with his enthusiasm. —Thank you all for participating in this event. The dynamic is simple; ten minutes per appointment. As the bell rings, they switch tables and continue to get to know each other.

Some residents looked around with the same mix of skepticism and curiosity as you, but Charlie's energy was contagious, filling the room with unusual anticipation.

The tables were arranged in small circles around the room, each decorated with candles, offering a warm ambiance in the midst of what for many was a rather uncomfortable gathering.

With the mask on your face and a slight tremor in your chest, you approached your first table. Your first encounter was with a demon with an arrogant bearing, who seemed in his element. He wore a flashy outfit, crossing one leg over the other as an arrogant smirk played across his lips.

— I suppose you've already noticed —he said, leaning towards you —that I'm not exactly the discreet type. Eternity is best enjoyed when you don't limit yourself.

He spoke of himself with a confidence that bordered on haughtiness, recounting his exploits with an almost disinterested looseness in your response. His eyes sparkled with a mischievousness that was intended to be seductive, but in reality only generated discomfort that bordered on displeasure. Nevertheless, you listened to him with a polite smile, but your mind was far away from there, wishing the minutes would run out.

This is definitely not my type. you thought.

Finally, the bell rang and you hurried to change tables, letting out a sigh of relief. In front of you, you found a petite, vibrant figure, whose single eye glittered with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Her voice was quick and high-pitched, almost a torrent of enthusiasm that seemed to overflow from her.

—This is kind of exciting! I can hardly wait to meet you! — she exclaimed, her words flowing with an energy that was hard to follow. — Did you know I love cleaning, I could spend hours organizing things and looking for bugs!

Her enthusiasm was so palpable that, while endearing, it began to overwhelm you. You struggled to keep up with her chatter, but each passing second increased your confusion, caught up in her maelstrom of words.

Despite your good intentions, every second of that conversation felt like a messy whirlwind of words and energy. The bell rang again, releasing you from that strange appointment, you felt an immediate indescribable relief. After just two encounters, you were exhausted and decided you needed a break.

The bustle of the tables, the hurried interactions, and the unusually lively tone of the event were beginning to wear on you. You got up from the table, sketching an apologetic smile, and slipped into the shadows of the lobby hoping to find the restroom or some secluded corner to regain your composure.

However, as you walked down a dimly lit hallway, something caught your eye. A slightly ajar door. Curiosity got the better of you and, without thinking too much, you pushed it, inside, a small room could be glimpsed. And right in the center of the room, a demon was sitting in a velvet armchair.

He held a newspaper and beside him rested a steaming cup of tea on a delicately carved small table. He was elegantly and neatly dressed, accentuated by the red of the dress. Instantly you knew who he was; infamous radio demon. He was such an enveloping and disturbing presence at the same time, he made the air in the room feel charged with a barely contained intensity.

He seemed oblivious to the bustle of the event in the hall, immersed in an absolute tranquility contrasting with the frenetic atmosphere of speed dating. He didn't look up when you walked in, so immersed in his reading or perhaps... as if he had been waiting.

—Well, well... you seem to have found something much more interesting than speed dating —commented a deep, resonant voice, full of strange musicality. He lowered the paper with a smile that had the clear purpose of disarming anyone who confronted him, a sly, calculated smile.

You felt the air in the room grow thicker. Alastor's calmness, his relaxed posture and his gaze that seemed to see beyond appearances, was disconcerting. There was something about his presence that not only unsettled, but created a kind of almost hypnotic fascination.

— I didn't expect to find something like this at the event...—You finally answered, your voice sounding more fragile than you would have liked.

Alastor tilted his head, studying you with a curiosity that was hard to decipher. His smile never disappeared, and there was a spark of amusement in his eyes. Though you had heard of Alastor and knew on good authority of his fearsome reputation, you were unprepared for the intensity of his presence in person. His look...everything about him projected a sweet, veiled menace beneath a layer of impeccable politeness.

All the rumors had not been exaggerated; he was absolutely dangerous. And yet, seeing him at that moment, wrapped in unnerving tranquility, made you feel captivated by the enigmatic atmosphere that surrounded him.

You noticed a soft melody, a jazz that seemed to emanate from the walls. The subtle melody, one that added an unexpected calmness to the space, as if this little corner was protected from the hustle and bustle. Your senses relaxed enough to make you forget, for a moment, where you really were.

Calmly, you decided to sit across from Alastor, in a delicate balance between curiosity and caution. It was then that you noticed that he was not wearing a mask, unlike the attendants, but in his case, he didn't need one. His very presence was shrouded in a mystery that not even a mask could intensify. Subtly, he finally slid the paper away, the amusement on his face was carved in an appraisal, a subtle communication of asking himself what to do with you.

— I don't remember seeing you anywhere, which makes me wonder...are you lost, my dear? — he uttered, his voice further emphasizing the resonance that achieved an electrifying static around him. It was a rich, melodious, enchanting voice.

Despite his question, you still felt you were in the speed dating frame, you forced a polite smile, trying to answer naturally.

—No, I'm not lost, I guess. I just took a break from the main room and, without realizing it, ended up here. I guess it's my turn... right?— You replied with slight doubt settling in your tone. Alastor, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, amused at your response.

"Your turn?" he repeated, as if he found the very idea extremely hilarious. Curious, he thought, watching you with an intensity that made you feel naked.

—My dear —He continued, with that smile that now seemed to widen just a little more. —Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not part of that little speed dating show. I don't usually get involved in such... ephemeral activities. —His voice deepened as she uttered that last word, as if reminding him of how insignificant he found such events. Then he paused, allowing you to process his words.

— But I must admit, I was intrigued. How did you get here? —You looked at him carefully.

Now somewhat more alert, you looked at him intently. His every word, his every pause, seemed carefully chosen, like a game in which only he understood the rules. There was something about that controlled calm that you found disconcerting. Still, your polite nature held you steady.

— Well, I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I'm simply following my intuition, and that brought me here...— you said, with a studied but sincere naturalness.— And here we are.

Alastor let out a soft, resonant laugh, one that seemed to drift through the air like the jazz melody that filled the room, enveloping the words in a subtle undercurrent of irony.

— Oh, of course... here we are. — he repeated, settling back in his chair, his interest clearly piqued by your words. His eyes narrowed just slightly, flashing with that teasing sparkle as he continued, —So, what do you think of this evening? I should imagine you've had some... rather memorable encounters.— The mocking tone and innuendo in his voice brought to mind some of the more flamboyant characters you had met that night.

You thought of the arrogant demon and the chaotic Nifty, and a wry smile tugged at your lips.

—Memorable is a good way to describe it. —you admitted sincerely. — Although, to be honest, I'm not sure this kind of event is my thing.

Alastor watched you silently, with a look that, oddly enough, seemed to soften. There was something akin to approval in his eyes, as if your answer had fulfilled some unseen expectation.

—Wise choice,— he commented, leaning a little closer, letting a hint of satisfaction show in his tone. —The true meeting of souls rarely happens in ten minutes... and certainly not in a room full of masks.— Leaning forward, his gaze deepened, as if in that moment he could see beyond your words, into some corner of you that he was barely aware of having shown.

— I'm surprised, then, that you haven't run off yet.— he added, in a kind of subtle challenge that made you raise your chin in intrigue. You looked back at him, searching his expression for some clue beyond his words.

—And why haven't you? —you replied, returning his challenge with the same intensity.Alastor interlaced his fingers calmly, never taking his eyes from yours, as if analyzing every nuance in your expression before answering.

—Ah, my dear,— he replied at last, his voice dark and melodious.—I don't run away from anything. I simply observe, I enjoy myself... and, on occasion, I find something or someone worth a closer look.

Again, the silence became dense and palpable, but far from being uncomfortable, it felt like a space suspended in time, an intangible place where you both lingered in that delicate game of words and glances. The soft music seemed to dissipate, blurring reality and making you feel that, for the first time in the night, you were in front of someone -or something- that really captured your attention, daring you to stay, to discover what else was behind his invisible mask.

—So...— continued Alastor, leaning in a little closer, his eyes like dark mirrors in which you seemed to lose yourself, — What are you really looking for in this little game?

Under the spell of the soft music and the intensity Alastor exuded, you let the moment take hold of you. The atmosphere was a refuge amidst the chaos, a corner of introspection where, for an instant, the frenetic event around you ceased to exist.

You found yourself questioning what you were really looking for, a question so elementary and simple, but which at that very moment felt immense.Without knowing why, you caught yourself reflecting out loud. The words flowed as if they were waiting for that exact moment to be released, loaded with an almost painful honesty.

—I don't know...— you said, with a hesitation that was more real than you had felt in a long time, — I'm not here looking for someone, or love, if that's what you mean. — You hesitated for a second, but in the end you decided to lower your gaze, looking at the texture of the table as if in it you could find answers.— But something, I don't know what, brought me here.

The confession slipped from your lips like a whisper, a secret released as much to yourself as to him. It was a thought you had not articulated before, and as you said it aloud, you were overcome with a sense of relief, yet also uncertainty.

The silence that followed was so palpable that you could almost touch it, but in an unexpectedly comforting way. It was a dense silence, but far from being uncomfortable; it was the kind of pause that, far from filling you with words, seemed to invite you to immerse yourself even more in that unique and sincere exchange. In the semi-darkness, the light barely managed to bring out the gleam in Alastor's eyes, who did not look away from you.

His eyes watched you with an intensity that, for the first time, you did not perceive as a power play or a calculated maneuver. Behind his enigmatic smile there was something deeper, a spark of genuine interest that puzzled you, as if your vulnerability had resonated with something he understood in his innermost being.

You didn't know what it was exactly, but in his silence and the way he looked at you, you sensed an unexpected connection.Alastor barely tilted his head, studying you with that captivating curiosity, as if he was valuing every word, every pause. His eyes, dark and enigmatic, never left yours, and in that moment you felt that he also showed you, perhaps unintentionally, a part of his true self.

—It is not common to find sincerity in the midst of a night of disguises.— he finally commented, his voice low and rich in nuance, each word spoken with a cadence that seemed to carry a special weight.

That calm that surrounded him, that strange peace he exuded, made you feel that he understood, even if he didn't say so explicitly.

For a second, the melody seemed to intensify around you, enveloping you both in an intimate and unreal space, a corner away from the world. The music and the gloom seemed to protect that confession, as if they had shared something sacred and Alastor had received it with a silent but profound respect.

He slid his hand, slowly, toward the center of the table, an implicit invitation, an offer of connection beyond words. He watched you with that same unfathomable intensity, his gaze like an abyss inviting you to enter unreservedly. And then, in that melodious, resonant voice, he spoke again:

— Sometimes, my dear...—he whispered, as if sharing a secret, — what we find is more important than what we seek.

His words hung between you, and you realized that, on that strange night, in that secluded and mysterious corner, you had found something more than a stranger. You had found a dark mirror in which you reflected yourself, and though you found it disturbing, you could not look away.

Now, immersed in the crushing and enveloping atmosphere, you found yourself watching him with a new intensity. Every detail about him, from his suit to the subtlety of his gestures, took you back to buried memories, images of a time that was once yours, but already seemed faded in your memory. There was something about his elegance that, as you looked at him closely, evoked a feeling in you, a sense of familiarity.

That thought, as regretful as it was revealing, made you feel an irresistible impulse, an urge to break the spell and voice aloud the suspicion that was hovering in your mind. With a subtle effort not to appear too intrigued, you muster your courage and allow the words to flow.

—Tell me…—you began, noticing that your voice was soft, almost a whisper— in life, were you… also from the thirties?

The question was direct, but there was a naturalness in the tone that seemed to be that of someone who recognizes a reflection in another person. As you asked it, your eyes remained fixed on him, waiting for some reaction, something that would confirm what, deep down, you already sensed. Because he not only seemed to be out of tune with that modern era; his bearing, his manners, that elegance carefully woven into every gesture... everything about him evoked a time that had been left behind, and that, somehow, you both shared.

Alastor let out a low, resonant laugh, a sound that spread through the room like the echo of an old radio crackling, almost tangible in the gloom around them. The laughter was brief, but in it you sensed something that seemed more than mere amusement: there was a spark of recognition, as if he had been waiting for that question and was pleased that you had taken the first step to ask it.

—Ah, wow...— he replied, without losing his characteristic enigmatic tone.— Very perceptive. Yes, I come from that era, and I must say that it is a pleasure to know that my essence has not been forgotten, even in these... accelerated times.

His words carried with them a kind of covert nostalgia, a hint of melancholy that, though barely perceptible, made you feel that you shared something more than a common era. He too seemed to remember that time with a mixture of disdain and longing, as if what you had both left behind was something unattainable, but indelible.

Alastor would look at you with a renewed intensity, that same spark of genuine interest in his eyes that you had sensed before, but now even sharper. It was as if, in that simple confession, he had allowed you to glimpse a part of his being, a fragment of the person he had been in life. The tension between you became more intimate and meaningful, as if that small revelation had created an unspoken bond, an understanding that transcended time and space.

— And so do you, I see...— He continued, in a tone that seemed to slide like a dark caress.

Alastor did not look away, and in his smile there was a subtle satisfaction, an almost pleased expression.Alastor's statement took you by surprise, shocking your perception and bringing back memories you had long since relegated to oblivion.

Although you had met many personalities in hell, each from different eras, rarely had anyone immediately noticed your origin, especially in a place and at a time like that. Most souls, like you, adapted to the dizzying pace of modern times; but Alastor, on the other hand, seemed absolutely adamant about renouncing his roots, that 1930s essence that permeated his every gesture, his every look.

His revelation awakened in you a torrent of contradictory sensations. You had forgotten what it meant to be recognized by the era that, in life, defined you. You had become so accustomed to the present time that, strange though it was, the past felt distant. But now, in front of him, those memories took shape again, and a part of you recognized yourself in that deliberate nostalgia, in that resistance to the expiration of what once was.

Alastor kept his eyes on you, watching you with an intensity that seemed to scan beyond appearances. His smile, even more enigmatic now, contained a kind of quiet satisfaction, as if the fact that you shared that time had solidified a special bond. He seemed pleased, perhaps because, somehow, seeing in you an ancient essence reaffirmed his own.

—Curious, isn't it?—he commented, leaning slightly towards you, just enough for his words to come through as an intimate whisper.— There's something about those times that's impossible to forget. Although... I guess some people just decide to leave it behind.

His tone was a challenge, an invitation to explore the background of what he had left behind. And though you were tempted to reply, to offer a defense for having adopted the rhythms of the present, deep down you knew that would be an incomplete explanation.

In the reflection of his words there was a truth you could not deny: perhaps you had left that era behind in an attempt to fit into modern eternity. But as you looked at him, so steeped in his original essence, you wondered if, at some point, you had lost something fundamental in the process.

Yourself...

The jazz in the background changed to a slower tempo, as if the atmosphere itself sensed the intimate, melancholy tone of the conversation. The music seemed to envelop them in a cocoon of shadows and dim lights, a refuge where both could exist in the limbo of their own memories.

You decided to break the silence, feeling it was time to accept that truth he seemed to see so clearly.

— I think that, with time, one forgets what was... or, at least, decides to leave it behind so as not to become a prisoner of it.— you said, with a sincerity that surprised both you and him. You watched his face, looking for some sign of disagreement or approval, but Alastor simply looked at you, his expression thoughtful and unperturbed.

His recognition brought with it an unexpected flash: a blurred image of someone you once loved. A man who had shared a life with you before oblivion, someone whose features now seemed to reverberate in Alastor's face. His presence, his gaze, even the echo of his voice, seemed to evoke a strange familiarity, like a distorted reflection of that ancient love. Thoughts fragmented in your mind, mingling with past emotions, buried memories and contradictory feelings that, until then, you had not known still inhabited you.

Alastor, for his part, also sensed that disturbance in the peace he had carefully maintained over the years. Since you entered the room, something about you had captured his attention in a way he could not understand. He felt a persistent murmur, an echo of sensations that he had decided to bury some time ago, and that now seemed to crack the heart of indifference he had built around himself. That voice inside him, faint but constant, seemed to murmur to him that in you there was something more, something that was not limited to this night.

They were both silent, caught in that intangible connection that spoke to them of a past that could not be ignored. The notes seemed lower, deeper, like a whisper from their own unconscious, and the gloom of the room felt like a sanctuary where they could confess truths they had preferred to forget.

Finally, you dared to break the stillness, your voice barely a whisper, a truth torn from your soul without permission.

— You... you remind me of him.— the words escaped before you could stop them, revealing more than you had intended to share. Alastor narrowed his eyes, and for the first time, a spark of vulnerability peeked into his gaze. Not irritating; the sly expression that always disappeared, and in its place appeared something you hadn't seen before, a kind of recognition and an inner struggle that was evident to him.

—Him...?— he repeated, quietly, as if that revelation also disarmed him.The echo of your words seemed to reverberate in the room.

In his mind, Alastor also recognized something eerily familiar about you, something he had overlooked, perhaps deliberately. Memories crowded into his mind: images of someone who had also meant something important in his mortal life, of a time he had left behind, or so he had wanted to believe. But now, in front of you, it was as if that illusion of detachment was beginning to crumble.

Every word, every gesture, every glance seemed to open a small crack in the wall he had built around himself, revealing pieces of a past he had sealed with his own contempt.

Your words, almost whispered, echoed like a forgotten echo, unearthing emotions buried so long ago that you hardly knew they still belonged to you. A flurry of questions and feelings swirled in your mind, confused, uncontrollable. On impulse, your hand moved almost of its own accord, bringing your fingers to your mask. You felt each centimeter revealed expose a part of you that you had learned to hide, as if, in that moment, you were forcing yourself to face the truth you had tried to evade.

Alastor did not look away. Your every move seemed to capture his undivided attention, his eyes burning with an anticipation he could not mask. As you dropped the mask, you could see his face change subtly, reflecting emotions that seemed to find themselves for the first time in his cold, calculating presence. With every millimeter you revealed, you felt him approaching not in distance, but in time, as if you were both about to unveil something shared, a truth that had been waiting in silence.

When the mask finally fell, your eyes met his. You felt naked, exposed, and yet there was a serenity in the connection that formed in that meeting of gazes. Your eyes, now vulnerable, reflected an unfathomable melancholy, the same melancholy you found in his gaze that is only seen between two souls that share the same weight. It was a deep sadness, a mark of time and the lives they had left behind. In those eyes of Alastor, you recognized something more than a simple affinity; you saw a reflection of yourself, a familiar shadow, as if in some corner of the past their destinies had intertwined.

The room hung in a dense silence, filled with an unconfessed understanding, a recognition that both of you could barely hold. Alastor's gaze remained fixed on your naked face, free of masks, vulnerable before him. It seemed as if his eyes devoured every detail, seeking confirmation in every feature that could bring back the fragments of his dormant memory. In a corner of his being, a spark of nostalgia flared, timid flames that threatened to consume him in the storm of what he once was.

You, however, felt a violent bewilderment. Every scattered fragment of memory in your mind began to fit into patterns that were painfully familiar. You stood motionless, caught between disbelief and the bitterness of revelation. This demon before you, this being known for his cruelty and malice, bore in his eyes the reflection of a lost time that, in some corner of your soul, still burned like embers. His eyes, that very specific way with which he looked at you, brought up memories you thought buried, faces and sounds that now emerged with a clarity that stunned you.

Finally, you broke the silence with a broken and fragile voice, holding your head as if the intensity of those memories were tearing you apart.

—It can't be... you... is it really you?—you whispered, your tone full of bewilderment and pain.

Alastor, whose sharp smile seemed to be his trademark, now transformed it into a crooked line, full of bitter irony. There was pain in his face, yes, but also a hint of relief, a tacit acceptance that lent an unusual gravity to his presence.

—Oh, my dear...— he replied, his voice tinged with a mocking sadness, like a joke that only he understood.— In hell, everything is possible, don't you think. Perhaps this reunion was inevitable.

The tone of his words was so soft that the ironic notes seemed to envelop a heartbreaking truth, a confession to the media. That slight mocking smile, a shield against pain, blurred on his lips as he looked at you, and in the silence that followed, you both seemed to sink into the bitter irony of a love that had begun in secret and now, in hell, showed itself naked and without escape.

His fingers approached yours, trembling, but determined. It was a barely perceptible touch, but with the weight of a repressed eternity.

—After so much... is this all? — you murmured in a broken voice, a thread of resentment in your tone.—You were just a shadow in my memory, a love I never fully knew, someone who disappeared just like that, leaving me with nothing... Was that all for you?

Alastor held your gaze, your eyes now charged with a somber intensity, a restrained pain. Still, his fingers closed around yours, and his words came out low, laden with a sincerity that few had ever heard from him.

—You don't know how much I was waiting for this moment,— he whispered, and the confession was so unexpected, so raw, that you felt your own thoughts freeze. That soft voice, free of the radio effect that characterized him, was the same of the man you had loved, the one who spoke to you in whispers when all was silent. For the first time in an eternity, you felt that the man you loved was really in front of you, that the lost love still had a voice.

A sigh escaped your lips as a lone tear slipped down your cheek. The reality of his absence, of his departure, hit you with renewed force.

—And you don't know how much I feared you would come to remember all this.—he added, almost in a whisper, as if the weight of the confession might crumble him. It was a truth wrapped in fear, in years of darkness, in a loss he never admitted.

The room seemed to hold its breath as they were both caught in the echo of a love that had been interrupted by death, by time, by decisions neither could change. The void he left in your life now seemed to have been filled, but not without the scars of the past.

— Everything was so dark...— you whispered, your voice shaky and barely audible.— When I lost you, it was as if everything went out. As if only shadows and cold remained.

Alastor, without looking away, let his fingers caress your face with an almost sacred reverence, as if he still feared to lose you. In a soft, steady whisper, he replied:

—That darkness, that cold... they were the only thing that could have brought us here. Perhaps only from the shadows can I see you again.

His tenderness, so unexpected and genuine, caused your lips to trace a fragile smile, full of sadness and resignation. You both knew that the road had been dark and full of mistakes, and yet, in this strange destiny, you felt you had returned to the place where you had always belonged: together.

— When I lost you... how could I have imagined that I would see you again, and like this? —You confessed in a voice that seemed to contain a lifetime of pain, of unexpressed love.

He stepped back a little, understanding the weight of your resentment, of the doubt that still throbbed in your chest, and held you firmly, with the assurance of someone who was not going to let you go again.

—Cher... in life we didn't know how to escape. But here we are, and this time, no one can force us apart.— The promise in his words was so firm, so absolute, that they both felt in that instant that hell had brought them together as much as it had separated them.

The room, the time and the darkness seemed to vanish in the embrace that followed.

Everything you had lost and searched for over the years now enveloped you in an impossible relief. It was as if the weight of all those moments lived in each other's absence dissolved in a single instant, as if the eternity you shared in hell was the only truth you had been searching for.

And so, in the silence of the infernal night, they found in the silence of their own pain the only possible peace, and reflection of one in the other, the end of a love that had always been eternal.

Their souls had been searching for each other, until the end of eternity.

Night had fallen softly, covering New Orleans with a blanket of melancholy. The cobblestone streets echoed to the sound of dry leaves blown in swirls by the autumn wind. The air smelled of recent rain, a perfume of damp earth that already seemed part of the city's atmosphere of mystery and nostalgia.

In the distance, in a dark and discreet corner, stood a small old library, its facade barely illuminated by the dim glow of the lamps. Its appearance was that of a refuge forgotten in time, a place that few noticed and where those who sought it could find a secret peace. Here, far from the gaze of others, was where you and Alastor used to meet, two souls caught in a strange spell of proximity and distance.

As you entered, your heart beat faster than usual, as if anticipating something your mind could not yet name. You closed the door carefully, letting the silence settle around you, and your eyes roamed the shelves and shadows until you found the familiar figure of Alastor, in the background, by a window.

He was standing with a book in his hands, immersed in a dim light that seemed to accentuate the enigmatic air of his essence. He was dressed, as always, in his elegant, impeccable suit, and as he looked up at the sound of your footsteps, a sharp smile - so his, so full of secrets - illuminated his face. You felt a tingle in your chest, an unconfessable emotion that he always managed to awaken in you.

At first it was his voice that attracted you: that magnetic softness, enveloping, like a whisper full of power. But as time went by, you had been caught by something deeper and less understandable, something that bordered on the spiritual, as if on a hidden level you were irremediably united.

—Ah, finally. I thought you weren't coming today,— he said with that warm tone he used only for you, but there was something else in his voice, a hint of anticipation, as if tonight was different.

You walked towards him with a shy smile and stopped just a breath away. You took the book he was holding and, out of the corner of your eye, you felt his gaze fixed on you, intense, as if he was looking to read something you had not yet said.

—And what would you have done if I hadn't come?—you asked in a playful tone, though with a slight tremor in your voice. Something about him had changed in the last few days, he had become more distant, more elusive, and that aroused in you a growing uneasiness.

Alastor held your gaze, his expression serene but his dark eyes shone with something indecipherable, something that seemed to hold all the words he would never say. Slowly, he slid his hand over yours, removing the book and setting it aside.

—You would have left me here, alone... thinking of you.— he murmured, his voice barely a whisper laden with a weight you didn't understand.

A thick silence settled between the two of you, and before you could react, Alastor wrapped an arm around you, pulling you to him. It was a gesture that on the surface was casual, but deep down, it felt like an anchor, as if he was trying to hold on to something that, somehow, he was already letting go.

At that distance, Alastor's scent surrounded you: a mixture of smoke, mint and something darker, something undefined that filled your senses. In that instant, the world seemed to vanish, leaving only that space between the two of you, like a bubble suspended in time.

—I know almost nothing about you, Alastor...—you whispered, with a mixture of curiosity and sadness. Every time you tried to know something deeper about him, about his secrets, he slipped through your questions like a ghost, like a mystery that never let itself be revealed.— Why don't you ever talk about yourself?—you asked softly, hoping, almost begging, that this time he would let you see the man behind the enigma.

Alastor lowered his gaze, his expression becoming somber, but the smile lingered on his lips, a smile that never reached his eyes, as if behind it lurked shadows that were not yours to understand. She seemed to be torn between the words she wished to say and those she could not allow herself to reveal.

— Perhaps... some secrets are better left that way, my dear. Things are less... charming when they come out in the open.— His tone held an almost imperceptible bitterness, but you noticed the trace of pain she was trying to hide. He turned his gaze to the window, where the reflection of the two of them was projected in the gloom.— Sometimes... I like to think that as long as you're with me, nothing else is needed.

That confession was almost inaudible, but there was a fragility in his words that you had never seen in him before, a crack through which you barely managed to peek. You raised a hand and, with a delicate gesture, touched his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eye.

—No matter what you hide... The only thing that matters... is this moment.—you said with unexpected firmness. It was not so much a truth as a desperate promise, one that protected you from the certainty that someday he would vanish from your life like a dream.

For an instant, Alastor's face softened, and his fingers traced the outline of your face, as if he were trying to etch every detail into his memory. The world, the secrets, the danger... all disappeared in the touch of his lips, in a kiss that felt more like a farewell than a beginning.

You clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body, while he held you with a restrained intensity, as if, at that moment, you were the only thing that really mattered to him. Neither of you spoke of the inevitable, but in the silence of that small library, you both knew that that night would be your last.

Soon after, you said goodbye with a smile, and he, promising to return. You left before he did, but stood on the corner, watching him walk away. His footsteps echoed down the cobblestone street, and with each one, it seemed to you that he was taking a piece of your soul with him.

The next morning, rumors spread like a shadow over New Orleans: the infamous Bayou killer had fallen in a confrontation, felled by a burst of gunfire. You heard the news like a distant echo, never suspecting that the man they spoke of in horror was the very man you had secretly loved, the man who held in his breast darker secrets than you could have imagined.

In time, the memory of him began to fade into the shadows, like a dream you clung to in vain. It was only years later, in another time and another world, that you met him again, in the place where you were both destined: a corner of hell where souls crossed by darkness meet again, united by a cruel and unbreakable bond that not even death could break.

That time, you understood that destiny had sealed them together forever, with no possibility of redemption, no possibility of escape.

Omg.

This story was too sentimental for me, but after all, I loved the ending. I actually thought first of the scene of them being human and then moved to the moment of their reunion at speed dating, and I think it was a good result.

I really had this story ready, but due to time issues I delayed it too much, however, I hope you like it as much as I do. I also wish you a Happy Halloween, Hahahaha, bye ♡

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 18: Bewitched

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Disclaimer: Please note that this is set in the 60s (like the original series) so there are some traditional dynamics. Also, some of the pairings were just made for plot convenience, I support all the ships without prejudice!

You woke up feeling like it was an important day. It was an important day.

You had received your first invitation to a neighborhood party after a few months of living there, and you were excited about it. Your husband was used to all those human rituals, but you, only since your marriage, had been exposed to them and didn’t know what to expect.

Your friendly and somewhat gossip-loving neighbor, Penelope Alvez, had been the one to extend the invitation. Your husband and hers had the same job and were quite good friends, so she thought it was a great idea to organize a gathering to strengthen the bond.

“I’m home!” called a male voice, as always, exactly at 6:30 p.m.

Your husband had chosen a black suit, white shirt, and a black tie with silver stripes that he had received for Christmas. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and his beard was starting to show. You loved any look he had, but the element of maturity his facial hair gave him had always been a weakness for you. He was one of those men who aged like fine wine.

“Good to see you, my love,” you said softly, in the midst of the mess that was your kitchen. He approached to greet you with a kiss on the lips and smiled as he noticed all the ingredients scattered on the table, the counter, the floor…

“What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Something to take to the Alvez's house. Isn’t it customary to bring something when you’re invited?”

“Yes, but… you don’t know how to bake.”

“Of course I know how to bake!” you squeaked, feeling offended. It was half-true, as you usually used magic to get decent meals. “I mean, I’m learning, but I’m trying hard.”

“I know, I know. But you could have told me, and I would’ve bought something on my way home, so you wouldn’t have to worry.”

“Let me do this, okay? I know I can.”

Spencer smiled compassionately, touched by your attempt to make a carrot cake. After the shocking revelation (for him) that you came from a powerful line of witches, the two of you had tried to live a life without magic to keep your marriage peaceful. Of course, your mother didn’t agree with this, upset that you were, in her words, lowering yourself and denying your nature.

However, you loved him enough to sacrifice the use of your powers if it meant being able to have a family with that man. No matter anyone’s opinion, it was just the two of you.

Of course, you didn’t completely abandon the use of your abilities, but you mostly did so when he couldn’t notice. After all, household chores were much easier with a little magical help.

“Okay, do you need me to help with anything? It’s almost time to go. I don’t know if you want to shower, get ready, or…”

“No. Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

You were stubborn—your husband knew that and accepted it when you decided to marry. That’s why he stepped out of your space, not wanting to create any unnecessary tension. You just needed time to calm down and carry out your plans.

Half an hour later, he came to check if you were ready, only to find you on the verge of tears in the kitchen. There was a nearly burned cake on the table, a poorly made frosting, and decorating items scattered everywhere. It was chaos.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?”

“It’s horrible! I’m a disaster,” you sobbed, approaching him to let him wrap you in his arms.

“You’re not a disaster; you’re learning,” he reassured you, holding back laughter. Gently, he removed some carrot bits that had somehow ended up in your hair and stroked your back sweetly. “It doesn’t look that bad. We can still save it.”

“I’ll bring it in a container, and… I don’t know, maybe that way it’ll look less awful.”

He encouraged you to do just that, and after helping you pack it up, you got ready to go. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t use a little magic to look better and change your outfit in a couple of minutes. And although your husband suspected it, he didn’t say anything.

Spencer offered you his arm to help you avoid tripping in those little blue heels you were wearing, and then you both walked to your neighbors’ house. You looked nervous when you realized you weren’t the only family attending, and your husband urged you to relax, somewhat amused by how much importance you were placing on it all.

“Good evening! Oh, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Come in, come in!”

The blonde woman with glasses hugged you as soon as she saw you and took the liberty of kissing your cheeks. Behind her was a man who greeted your husband, whom you assumed was Mr. Alvez.

“Thank you for inviting us…”

“Don’t mention it! I was dying to meet my new neighbor,” Penelope murmured, giving you a mischievous look. You felt as if she was trying to tell you she knew your secret.

Spencer encouraged you to enter, placing his hand gently on the small of your back and nudging you forward. Once inside, you met several people: the millionaire, divorced, and eccentric Mr. David Rossi, the LaMontagne family—husband, wife, and two kids—the Morgans, and lastly, a man named Aaron Hotchner, his son Jack, and Jack’s stepmother, Emily Prentiss.

The men were already drinking whiskey and champagne, while the women were chatting peacefully. You asked the hostess where you could put the container with the dreadful creation you had made, and she accompanied you to the kitchen.

“Penelope is obsessed with your wife. She doesn’t even pay me this much attention,” Luke teased once the women had left. “She’s convinced your wife makes things appear out of thin air and says the flowers in your garden are so beautiful because your wife takes care of them with magic and all that.”

“What… what things, that’s ridiculous,” he laughed, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling strange about Penelope’s deduction.

Had she really seen you practicing magic?

“She has a very active imagination. And sometimes she gets bored at home,” he murmured. The truth was, he didn’t believe the woman: he thought she was just pulling his leg.

But your husband, being more perceptive, started to reflect on what it meant for someone in the neighborhood to already be suspecting your particular condition. You both stayed somewhat apart during the gathering, as he wanted to give you a chance to socialize with the women. You know, to get out of the routine a bit.

At some point in the night, he saw Emily coming out of the kitchen with a slice of meringue cake that looked simply delicious, and Spencer excused himself from the other men to investigate.

“Where did you get that?”

“Uh… your wife brought it?” she laughed, a bit confused.

“My wife?”

“Ugh, men. You didn’t even notice what she baked!” the woman exclaimed, scolding him playfully. “It’s delicious, by the way,” she added, tasting the strangely perfect white meringue cream.

Spencer figured it wasn’t a matter of distraction—he knew you hadn’t brought that with you. He went in search of the dessert and saw that, indeed, a beautiful pastry was sitting on the table.

“She’s got a gift, Spencer! It’s almost like she has magic in her hands!” Penelope laughed as she cut a piece for herself before leaving the kitchen to rejoin the group.

He had a glass of champagne in hand as he approached you.

“Ladies, may I steal my wife for a moment?” he asked politely toward the group of women you were with.

You knew something was wrong when he looked at you, and as you walked over to him, you mentally reviewed what could have upset him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why is it that all of a sudden we brought a perfectly baked cake to the gathering?” he whispered through his teeth, keeping a calm expression. Everyone could have easily thought you were having a loving conversation.

“I can explain…”

“Love, you know the whole no-magic thing is for our safety. It’s not just some whim; it’s an agreement we made.”

“Do you not love me anymore?”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” he immediately replied, sounding exasperated. “I’m just saying you can do that at home, but… I don’t want anyone to find out, okay? I’m worried it could put you in danger.”

“No one will die because I fixed a cake, darling,” you exclaimed, pouting. Spencer feared you might be misunderstanding his words and getting upset, so he leaned in slightly to kiss your lips.

“Don’t be mad,” you said, looking at him in that way that made him melt, as you placed your hands carefully on his chest, almost at his neck “We’ll talk about this at home, okay?”

You sighed discontentedly, then glanced aside. The glass in his hand was almost empty, so you thought it would be a good idea to refill it with magic, even though he had explicitly told you not to use it in public a second ago. He said your name in a scolding tone.

“No one’s paying attention, Spence,” you defended yourself, nodding toward the group of people happily chatting. “But fine, I won’t do any more magic. It’s just that… everyone here brought such beautiful things, and I was afraid they wouldn’t like what we brought.”

Your husband, a bit calmer now, smiled briefly and leaned in to kiss you again, more deeply this time.

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t fit in without your magical abilities. But I also don’t want you to deny who you are. I just want to protect you, my little witch.”

You fell silent, unsure of how to respond to that, and then you leaned against his chest, silently asking him to hold you. He kissed the top of your head, and then you heard someone laughing.

“Save that for home, tiger. You’ll have plenty of time to spoil her later.”

Everyone laughed at Derek’s joke, and you both pulled away, your cheeks slightly flushed from embarrassment.

“Come join us. Reid still hasn’t told us the story of how you two fell in love, and I’m sure everyone’s dying to hear it,” Emily encouraged, sitting on the couch next to her husband.

Spencer took your hand to lead you over, and you both joined the conversation. Later, when you saw him arrive with a slice of meringue cake, you couldn’t help but give him a reproachful look, but he just shrugged and winked at you.

If you had already used your magic, you might as well enjoy it.

[zukosprettyprincess]

HII I SCREAMED AFTER I SAW THAT YOU WERE ASKING FOR REQUESTS !! I WAS LEGIT JUMPING AROUND MY ROOM AND I AM NOT CAPPING 😭🙏🏻 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEE WRITE A ZUKOXREADER WHERE THE READER DIES IN THE END thank you i am very happy

Hearts made of glass

Synopsis: In which Zuko finds himself regretting his decisions.

Word count: 1.1k

A/N ~ THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON! This is what i mean when i tell you to send me requests. I love you so much anon, we're married now. MWAH!

The sounds of screaming have never been unknown to Zuko's ears. Everywhere he's gone screams have followed. It's not entirely his fault. No, of course not. Even when he's being nice, it's his damn title that causes people to cower. Whoever he is as a person be damned.

He finds peace in the midst of the chaos. Finds himself able to concentrate better. He's always thrived at that, thanks to his uncle.

Everything was on fire.

He needs to breathe. He needs to find his center before he runs into anything. But then he hears it.

Of course he's used to screams, of course he's used to shrieks of horror and sorrow and agony.

But hearing his partner's cry for help was different. He didn't care about his fucking center, or his chakras, or whatever the hell it was Iroh told him to look for within himself. He couldn't even remember right now.

His feet moved faster than his brain could comprehend, and before he knew it, he was running into the plumes of smoke that coated the sky like a thick fog.

Everything was on fire.

He felt as though his heart was melting. The way glass melts against fire. His entire chest was burning, practically eating him from the inside out.

He couldn't see through all of the smoke, his blazing ember eyes squinting against the blackened skies.

He hears it again. Their call. Their call for him. His feet moved faster as he raced in the direction he heard the sound come from.

Everything was on fire.

And he saw them. Surrounded by five Fire Nation soldiers, he saw them. Their water pouch was empty, their eyes were wide and fearful, and their hands were trembling.

The hands Zuko loves to hold so much. The hands Zuko lets trace over his scar, the hands he kisses before bed, the hands he warms in the cooler seasons. Oh, how they're trembling like a leaf.

He makes a move to go forward, but immediately gets tugged back by a hand grasping his shoulder. He turns to see the familiar wolf-tail.

Sokka.

"Don't go, yet. Toph's grabbing Suki, then it'll be an even fight," Sokka says, his hand squeezing Zuko's shoulder reassuringly.

Zuko only glares at the water tribe boy. "They could be dead by then."

"It's better to wait," Sokka tightens his hold. "than to go in blazing."

"Fine. Fine, we'll wait," Zuko agrees, though reluctantly.

He can hear the Fire Nation soldiers mocking his partner, trying to rile them up, trying to get information out of them.

He can hear them threatening his love. Zuko has to turn away from the sight, unable to stand it any longer. Spirits, where are Toph and Suki?

"Come on, just tell us where the prince is. Fire Lady Azula wants to know," one says, his voice rough and gravelly.

Another pipes up from beside the first soldier, his voice higher pitched, almost squeaky, "C'mon. Tell us where the fuckin' prince is."

Zuko can feel his anger bubbling over. He's never been good at controlling his rage. His hands feel hot, just itching to go over there and wipe out every single one of the soldiers. But he relents, opting to trust Sokka's plan.

And oh, how he regrets that...

Everything was on fire.

Zuko's vision was blurring at the edges, his ears ringing as Sokka was speaking unintelligible nothings into his ears. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Like a weight was being pressed down on his chest, forcing his heart to stop beating.

The loud swoosh of fire was still echoing in his mind, bouncing off the walls of his brain. Your pained, tortured scream of pain filled his eardrums until nothing else could penetrate them.

His love, his life, his future. All of it came crumbling down into the pit of fire that roared in his stomach. He felt angry. He couldn't tell who he was angry at, though.

Maybe it was the soldiers. The ones who were all still surrounding his love's now limp body. Maybe it was Sokka. He was the one who made Zuko wait it out. Or maybe he was angry at himself. An anger that never quite seemed to relent. An anger that's always just ate at him and ate at him, never quite stopping.

His madness always did seem to have an insatiable appetite. But his partner was always there to catch him when he fell.

Well, here he was. Falling. And now he had nobody to catch him.

Everything was on fire.

He could vaguely make out Sokka's yells behind him. Telling him to stop, most likely. That killing wasn't what Aang wanted them to do.

Well what the fuck did Aang know? Aang knew nothing of the wrath that consumed Zuko to the very bone. That filled his soul and spilled over into his shattered heart as the sound of your scream.

The sound he could've stopped if Sokka had just let him.

But no, he was told to wait. And like a goddamn fool, he did. He waited, and the love of his life died, and he will never forgive anyone for that.

His heart shattered. The pieces rigid and sharp at the edges. He felt as though tiny shards of his glass heart were stabbing into his flesh. Stabbing and stabbing until he could feel no more. Until his insides went numb.

And that was it. He was truly numb.

He was numb while he set ablaze ever one of those soldiers. And he was numb while he watched them all flail around like idiots.

He was numb while every one of them burned to a crisp and then some. And he was numb while Sokka backed away from him when he turned to look at him.

He slowly walked over to where his love lied limp. Skin cold to the touch, but not in their usual way. Not in their usual "I'm from the South Pole, of course i'm colder than you." way.

Their skin was not how he remembered it. Where it was once full and soft, it was now burned or bruised.

He would never forgive himself for this outcome. Not himself, not Sokka, not his father for creating this mess, not Azula for looking for him, not Aang for disappearing all that time instead of stopping the war earlier.

His chest was ripped open, his heart was shattered, his head felt empty. There was a dull ache in his chest as his gaze swept over his love's body. He felt sick, and heartbroken, and he couldn't move. The tears stung as they rolled down his cheeks, but he paid them no mind.

He held his love's body closer.

Everything was on fire.

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Zuko Masterlist.