#amidst the drama and angst I write

[gyubakeries]

hey queen! I just found your page but oh god, you’re so good????better know you just got another loyal follower because I literally love you now🙂‍↕️.

Can I please request idol!dokyeom x idol!reader like some lowkey tension and flirting at an award show and bc their groups are both very close, they go to a dinner and drinking to celebrate, and afterwards reader gets so drunk dk has to walk her to her hotel room, and the rest is your imagination!

thank you in advance❤️❤️

𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗺𝗲 | l.sm

a/n: you are so sweet!! im so glad you like my writing 💗 this is such a cute request, so i really hope you like this one toooo <3 apologies for straying away from the flirting part of it BUT I HOPE U LIKE THIS NONETHELESS. also... first fic of 2025!! lets hope im more motivated to write this year lmaooo

p.s. for the sake of the plot, reader is the 5th member of aespa, but the group's name is different (lunaris) and they're 96 & 97 liners. also, they're under pledis, have trained together, and debuted around the same time, again, for plot reasons. reader and seokmin are the same age.

word count: 3.4k contents: seokmin x fem!reader , idol!seokmin , idol!reader , i made up a random kpop group guys , set at mama 2024 , drinking , tension , light angst , drunken confessions , k-drama-esque , silly stuff , happy ending

"i'm so nervous i could literally throw up," seokmin mutters, and you turn to take a look at him. you want to call him a liar, because the way he's exuding confidence and charm just by sitting there does not give away even the slightest hint of nervousness.

"aw, i didn't know i had that effect on you," you snicker, opting to tease seokmin instead of consoling him. that's mingyu's duty anyway.

"oh please, you think i get nervous around you?" seokmin scoffs, a smirk playing across his lips. "maybe you're the one getting flustered around me, like when my recent photoshoot pictures dropped, hm?"

"i wasn't flustered," you lie boldly, hoping that your cheeks weren't turning red. "it wasn't very pleasant to see your half naked body on my phone, it was more like a jumpscare."

"sure, whatever you say, darling," seokmin snickers, and you glare daggers at him, when the leaders of both your groups approach you. seungcheol sighs and crosses his arms when he sees you two arguing again, and your leader, karina raises an eyebrow at you.

"there they go again, fighting like cats and dogs," seungcheol grumbles, and seokmin stands up to defend himself, when the rest of the members of seventeen and your group, lunaris file in together.

"who's ready to get some awards!" soonyoung cheers loudly, making minghao wince in pain because of how loud his voice is. amidst all the chaos of both your groups chatting up a storm in the waiting room you've been assigned, you notice that seokmin has left your side, and winter approaches you.

"so, flirting with mr. sunshine again?" she winks teasingly, and you shove her shoulder. "no, not flirting. he's being insufferable." you reply.

"and still, you've had the biggest crush on him since our trainee days," she points out, and you deflate a bit. there was no denying that seokmin has been your crush for almost a decade. it was kind of pathetic, and you'd made countless attempts to move on, but nothing seemed to work.

"and i'm beginning to regret it," you give her a sad smile. winter doesn't have the time to ask you about it, because your group has to head out to the seating area for the award show.

the ceremony starts and performances pass by in a blur. lunaris goes next, and the exhilarating feeling of being on stage and performing in front of so many fans temporarily distracts you from the weird haze thinking about seokmin has put you in.

the reprieve doesn't last long, because when your group returns to their seats after the stage, seokmin is the only member who doesn't say anything about the performance. you can only look at him out of the corner of your eye, sitting in his assigned area alone, while soonyoung compliments your choreography excitedly. you can't help but feel that your heart breaks a little.

to the world, lee seokmin was the lovable, cheery, funny and optimistic ray of sunshine. his presence instantly brightens up any situation, and fans all over the world love him for his sunny personality.

you do too.

but it's difficult to keep in mind when seokmin behaves the complete opposite with you. your groups have been friends for years, since you trained together in the godforsaken green room, but you've never been on the receiving end of seokmin's laughs or smiles. to you, he's always been a cold wall, pointed glares and sharp words.

soonyoung and giselle would often joke that there wasn't any real hostility between you and seokmin, just pure sexual tension, and you've spent so much time praying for it to be true, but you know it isn't.

not when seokmin's never let you be his friend, not when he's always so keen to jump into a fight with you.

not when he doesn't even meet your eye when you congratulate him on winning 'artist of the year' at the 2024 MAMA awards.

the cheers are deafening, jihoon and seungcheol are crying like babies, and when seokmin ignores you in favor of talking to ningning and karina about lunaris winning song of the year, your heart breaks a little more.

you feel like a childish teenage girl, on the verge of tears after getting her heartbroken by the only person you've had your eyes on for a long time. you want to do nothing but change out of the uncomfortable clothes the stylists put you in and put on your pajamas, watch 'the notebook' and fall asleep while crying.

but there wasn't any time for that now, not with thousands of fans present in the venue and watching the show being streamed live. you push down your feelings and put on a bright smile, one you've practiced in the mirror countless times.

—

the award show finally draws to a close, and you're heading out of the venue with your group members when seungkwan and mingyu approach you.

"going home so early?" mingyu questions. "we need to party!"

"actually, y/n isn't feeling too well, so we thought it'd be best to go back to the hotel," karina fills in for you, the girls somehow aware of your heartbreak.

"was seokmin hyung being mean to you again?" seungkwan asks, and you try to shake his question off with a laugh, but he doesn't seem too convinced. "look, y/n, seokmin hyung can be the most oblivious person ever. don't let his words get to you, because i can assure you that how he acts around you and what he feels for you are two different things."

"sure, seungkwan-ah," you nod. mingyu and seungkwan don't relent in their attempts to go out for drinks and dinner with them, and you feel bad for making all your group members stay back just because of you, so you finally give into their requests.

—

dinner is a loud ordeal; soonyoung, chan and winter are already drunk and belting out weird remixes of 'god of music' and 'supernova.' seungcheol seems to be much happier after talking to jun and jeonghan on the phone, and jihoon seems to have quietened down a bit as he finishes bowl after bowl of rice, a pink blush settling permanently on his cheeks with all the compliments he's receiving from his bandmates and the staff.

you on the other hand, busy yourself with drinking. seungkwan, mingyu, joshua, giselle and you play several drinking games, and you lose at almost all of them.

"ha! y/n has to take another shot!" mingyu yells when you break the word chain game you've been playing.

"no fair! joshua distracted me by stealing the meat on my plate!" you argue, but it falls on deaf ears. resignedly, you take another shot of soju, the liquid burning down your throat as it goes down.

when you set the shot glass down and seungkwan claps and whoops loudly, you accidentally make eye contact with seokmin. he's sitting on the table across you, trying to get a drunk soonyoung to calm down, when his gaze meets yours.

you expect him to immediately look away, or for a look of disgust to appear in his eyes, but it never happens. he keeps looking at you intently, and the world seems to go silent around you. for once, seokmin's eyes don't hold any anger, annoyance or disinterest in them when he looks at you.

and maybe it's the shot of soju giselle pushes into your hands because you lost another game, but you even see a flicker of.... love?

yeah, you're definitely drunk.

"aw, y/n, don't cry!" chan coos, and you hadn't even realized that there were tears streaming down your face and the rest of your group, as well as some of the boys, had crowded around you to console you.

"i'm fine," your words are slurred and you feel sluggish when you raise your hand to wipe the tears away. "jus' a little emotional."

"oh my, you're really drunk," ningning mutters from behind you, and you finally register just how much alcohol has been poured into your bloodstream, and it hasn't even been an hour since you got to the hotel's restaurant for dinner.

"'s okay, ning," you hiccup. "i'm just gonna.... lie down here for a nap." you lean to the side, unaware of the fact that you were about to fall from your chair onto the ground. before you could lose your balance and do so, a strong pair of arms hold you up, making you sit straight.

your eyes are drooping shut, and the people in the room around you reduce to blurry figures. everyone's voice is muffled, except for one, that cuts through all the noise.

"i'll take her up to her room, you guys can stay here."

lee seokmin, you think to yourself, identifying the voice. was it all just a dream?

—

by the time you're in the hotel's elevator, on the way to your room, you suddenly jolt awake when you feel yourself held up by an arm draped across your shoulders. a familiar cologne floods your senses, and you're alert in an instant.

"what are you doing?" you shriek, pulling away from seokmin and plastering yourself against the opposite wall of the elevator. seokmin looks surprised, and the doors to the elevator open up to your floor.

"i was- well, you were drunk, so i offered to take you up to your room," he stammers, his voice unusually soft, lacking the usual edge of irritation it has when he's speaking to you.

"i'm fine now," you give him a curt response, snatching the key card out of his hands and walking out of the elevator. you don't maintain your balance for too long, however, and you're about to fall flat on your face, when seokmin holds you up, again.

"you're an idiot," he sighs. "just let me help you. you're clearly drunk, so stop being difficult and just listen to me."

"no," you cross your arms like a petulant child. "i don't want your help."

you refuse seokmin's tries to get you to walk and stay rooted to your place on the carpeted floor. seokmin heaves another sigh before muttering under his breath, "you've left me with no choice."

with the alcohol slowing down your reflexes, you belatedly realize that seokmin has picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder. when you do realize, you start hitting his back and swinging your legs.

"put me down! lee seokmin, i'm going to shave all your hair off and make you regret your entire life!" you shriek, and seokmin is glad that the entire floor has been booked only for staff and idols.

"stop moving, or i'll drop you," seokmin warns, and you immediately fall silent, stopping all your movements.

your hotel room comes into view a few seconds later, and seokmin opens the door with the keycard. he carries you into the hotel room too, despite your protests, and gently lays you down on the bed.

what you both hadn't realized was that your bracelet had gotten caught in the fabric of seokmin's sweater, so when he tries to put you down on the bed and move away, the snagged bracelet causes you to yank him down upon you.

your mouth falls open in shock as seokmin manages to support himself on his hands before he can directly fall onto your body. his wide brown eyes are trained onto yours, and everything around you seems to fade away.

"are you okay?" seokmin asks softly, and you snap yourself out of your trance to gesture towards your bracelet.

"it-it got stuck," you explain, moving to carefully free the bracelet from the sweater.

seokmin doesn't move away.

his gaze remains locked on you, and it reminds you of the time in the restaurant. it's overwhelming and suffocating to see him look at you like that without any of the usual hostility in his eyes.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you whisper, breath hitching in your throat when you realize that you spoke your thoughts out loud.

"like what?" seokmin asks back, even though he's completely aware of what you're implying.

"like you- like you don't hate me," you reply, tears welling up in your eyes. "like you don't feel disgusted by being this close to me. like you care about me."

seokmin's brows furrow in confusion, and it should be your cue to stop talking so you don't expose your decade-long crush for him, but the alcohol in your bloodstream has managed to deactivate your brain-to-mouth filter.

"you're a bad person, seokmin," you sigh heavily, looking up at the ceiling. "you make my hands sweaty and heart race."

silence.

"do you need to see a doctor?" he asks after a few seconds, and you groan. you sit up abruptly to face him and instantly regret it because of the way your head spins.

"you're an idiot!" you huff, frustrated. "you and your idiotic smile, and your stupid laugh, and that annoying ability of yours to make everyone fall for you with your voice. i hate it."

"you hate me?" seokmin asks, his brown doe-eyes widening, and you fall in just a bit deeper.

"i didn't say that," you sigh. "i could never hate you. that is what i hate. the fact that you could treat me like shit, break my heart, and still get away with it."

"have i?" seokmin mutters after a while. "broken your heart, i mean. have i done that?"

you don't answer him, choosing to pick at a loose thread hanging from your sleeve.

you both sit in silence for a while, before you finally speak again.

"the first time i met you, you told me that i smelled like peaches," you say, trying to keep yourself composed. "that day, i went home and told my mom to buy me two more bottles of the same perfume, because i thought you had liked it, and i was willing to do anything to get noticed by my crush."

you can see that seokmin is staring at you with surprise in his eyes when you mentioned having a crush on him in your trainee days, but you continue your story.

"the next day, no matter how much i laughed, sang, or danced, you wouldn't even look at me. i tried sitting next to you during our breaks to start a conversation, but you always moved away, as if me being around was repulsive to you," you let out a small laugh, remembering how embarrassed you had felt back then. "i never wore that perfume again, hoping that maybe it was the only thing you disliked about me. but even after all these years, you-"

"the day i first met you, i went to the mall before going home and bought the exact same perfume," seokmin cuts you off. he sounds uncharacteristically quiet, and his hands keep fidgeting with the hem of his sweater.

"i went home, sprayed it all over my bed, books, room, everywhere you could possibly think of," seokmin continues, and you see the tips of his ears turning red. "it got to a point where my mother had to throw the bottle away because she was sick of smelling the perfume. peaches became my favorite fruit, and every night i'd go to sleep while clutching my pillow, hoping that one day it'd be you instead."

"cut the crap, seokmin," you scoff. "is this some sort of prank?"

"it's the truth, y/n," seokmin shakes his head. he brings his head up to look at you, and you can see the genuinity in his eyes.

"then why- why have you acted with me like this for all these years?" you ask the million-dollar question, thoroughly confused.

"for the simple answer, i was stupid," seokmin confesses. "i had never felt such intense feelings for anyone, much less a girl, and i thought that avoiding you would make it better."

"the more complicated answer is, i didn't want jeopardize our futures. seniors would tell us stories about trainees getting kicked out because they took training too lightly. they would get into relationships and start slacking off. i wanted to debut, and i didn't want to ruin your career either, so-"

"we could've worked something out. we could've tried to be friends at least," you interrupt him. "instead, you made me feel like you've hated me for the last ten years, seokmin. you made me feel like an idiot for being in love with you, even after everyth- shit."

you throw a hand over your mouth, cursing your tendency to run your mouth when drunk. seokmin's mouth has also dropped wide open, his eyes staring at you with a shocked expression similar to yours.

"you love me?" seokmin asks, and you wish that the ground would just swallow you up so you could escape the situation.

the next best option was to fall back on the bed and cover yourself in the thick comforter, hiding yourself from seokmin's sight.

"i already said it, didn't i?" you huff, your voice muffled by the comforter. "look, i'm glad we talked about all this and it's great news that you don't hate me like i had assumed for the past decade. do me a favour, and forget the last bit of the conversation, and let's work on being friends, yeah?"

just as the words leave your mouth, the comforter is tugged off your body, and you meet seokmin's eyes, his face hovering above yours again.

"you just confessed your love for me, and you expect us to be friends?" seokmin raises an eyebrow. "i knew you were the comedian of your group, but this isn't funny."

"would you prefer going back to being strangers then?" you bite back, not understand what seokmin is playing. "fine, if that's what you really want-"

"i want you to be my girlfriend, you idiot," seokmin blurts out, and you freeze.

"your what?"

"my girlfriend," he repeats, and you feel giddy. "y/n, i know i haven't shown it, but since our trainee days, i haven't been able to get you off my mind. it used to scare me, it still does now, how quickly i fell for you, which is why i kept pushing you away. i would never forgive myself if i made a move that could risk either of our careers."

"seokmin, i get it," you nod. "it's not easy for idols to date, and even though it's the one thing i want the most, it isn't practical. i'd be happy with being just friends too."

"i don't want to settle for just friends," he shakes his head. "i've spent a decade pining after you but also shutting you out, and i don't want to spend another second not being yours, if you still feel the same way."

"of course i feel the same way, genius," you roll your eyes, and seokmin lets out one of his beautiful giggles that makes your heart skip a beat. "are you sure about this?"

"i am, i promise," seokmin agrees resolutely, his lips parting in the most stunning smile that seems to light up the room.

"then... can i kiss you?" you ask, your voice soft, almost hesitant, but seokmin is anything but. he doesn't waste a second, and before you know it, he's swooping down to kiss you.

despite your limited experience, you could confidently say that seokmin was certainly the only person who could kiss you this well. the press of his lips against yours is sweet and gentle, his hand cupping your face is delicate, and your heart feels overwhelmed with how happy you feel.

when he pulls away, his eyes hold a promise. a promise to always treat you right. a promise to always be by your side. a promise to always be open about his feelings and not hiding from them.

you pull him down for another kiss, trying to preserve the magic of the moment in that one action.

turns out, there's magic in every moment you spend with seokmin thereafter. whether it's in the warmth of his hand in yours when you tell both your groups about your relationship at breakfast the next day, or the joy lighting up his eyes when you start wearing your peach-scented perfume again.

now, whenever you see clips and pictures of seokmin's sunny smile, it doesn't hurt you anymore. not when you know that some of those smiles are only for you.

- fin.

taglist: @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen @unlikelysublimekryptonite @theidontknowmehn

@shinwonderful @hearts4hee @t-102 @grapejuicelh @aaa-sia

@cixrosie @deekaykaykay @baseball-dokyeom @4shypotato

fill this form to be added to the taglist <3

head to the masterlist for more!

[slu7formen]

Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.

Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.

Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.

Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.

I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.

I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.

Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler

₊˚⊹♡

The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.

You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.

You knew it.

From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.

The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.

But then he suddenly just, snapped.

A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.

The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.

You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.

You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.

Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.

A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"

Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.

"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.

He lied.

Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.

"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.

But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.

He was gone.

He had left.

You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.

Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.

The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.

You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.

You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.

The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.

And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.

The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.

How could you be so weak?

These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.

Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.

Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.

In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.

You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.

You hated how much you missed him.

The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.

New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.

Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.

Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.

Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"

Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.

You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.

The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.

Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.

“Luke?”

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.

"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.

You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.

"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.

Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.

"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.

"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."

He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."

You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"

Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.

"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.

You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.

Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.

"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.

"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."

His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"

Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"

You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.

"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."

The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.

You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.

Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.

He deserved it, that much was clear.

"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"

Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"

He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.

He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“

"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"

Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.

"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."

You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."

The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."

"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."

A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.

What had he done?

"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."

Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.

Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.

"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."

You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.

"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me to leave you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"

His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.

"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.

Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."

You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."

“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.

He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."

And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?

"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."

The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.

Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."

A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"

He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."

Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.

He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.

You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.

"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"

He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.

But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"

"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."

His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.

The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.

"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.

Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.

The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.

He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.

With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.

Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.

But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.

Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.

The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.

His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.

"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.

He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."

With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.

He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.

"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"

You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?

Did he care?

Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.

"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."

[kewrnage]

high infidelity

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ✶ ─── sylus had taught you to protect yourself from the things in the world, even from himself. that leads you questioning, doubting him.

pairings. sylus x fem! reader.

genre. sfw. angst. bad ending. surprise ending. bittersweet ending.

t. warnings. female reader. intelligent/smart reader. cheating. reader is not mc. slightly rushed ending. based on the card, night of secrecy. references to other cards like; abyssal mark and abyssal blossom. mephisto is our buddy, periodt. mystery ml in the ending.

word count. 5.3k

noir’s memoir. i’ve finally outdone my procrastination in writing, whoa. this is such a feat for my indecisive ass to stick to one idea. non mc reader because life with no drama in fiction is boringg. also tried to make sylus as annoying as possible 🙈

— plus, can my socmed feeds shut the fuck up with the night of secrecy card content because i feel like i just had a divorce with sylus, like the hell did i do to y'all?? 😭 jk. but i had to quit the game because i have no commitment to gacha games but enjoys being enraged in league lol.

— but i might open it again in summer after uni. 😩 your compliments and criticisms are appreciated tho! <3

— tagged y'all! in case i missed yours, pm me and i'll write your username on the tag list. pls don't hesitate to approach me! 🙏🏻

"Do you love me?" You'd ask, the words a familiar melody between you, a question that whispered on the wind of your shared intimacy. Each time, it seemed to brush away the dust of doubt, leaving only a lingering warmth in its wake.

You'd feel his rough hand, calloused from battles, graze your skin, a silent affirmation of his devotion. He loved every inch of you, flaws and all, your beauty, a canvas he cherished, a masterpiece in his eyes.

His thumb traced a path across textures of your skin clears any hint of insecurity within you as he paid no mind in those details, a touch that also spoke volumes of his affection.

Love. Almost three years ago since you have felt the romantic one aside from your family and friends, is when you met Sylus. Not only have you experienced it, but you learned things that have never entered your mind before.

He taught you things you didn't know. Baking, a little bit of programming- it wasn't easy, but love has the power to turn surrenders into miracles.

You somehow one day learned how to program Mephisto, because that mechanical crow is one of the little things that are part of him- that also you insisted on him to advise you.

There were many more lessons, such as when his knuckles scooted forward into the wind with force, eventually meeting your palm as your fingers enclosing his hand and he smiled proudly, his eyes reflecting the joy of that moment of that spar.

Or when he had a way of dealing with your emotional outbursts. One brush of his hand soothes your seething ardor towards frustration.

He would tell you to breathe in and out, He'd whisper, "Breathe in, breathe out," his voice like a soothing balm. You learned, slowly but surely, to think before reacting, to find calm amidst the chaos. He was intimidating, his red eyes like a blood moon, yet he was an angel you could turn to for guidance, a safe haven where judgment never crossed his mind.

After all, love isn't just all about affection, it is a journey and a path to clarity.

He surprised you one day with a statement that chipped away at your unwavering admiration. "I needed to teach you to protect you," he said, his voice low and tender. "From many perils, sweetie. Even from myself." The words were unexpected, unsettling even.

He usually spoke with a sense of calm certainty, but there was a lingering smirk on his lips, a hint of longing that you couldn't quite comprehend. It was a longing that made you wonder what secrets lurked beneath his unwavering presence.

Yet lately, his answer to that question was, "Of course, sweetie." Was his response before he left you in your bed, for a business rendezvous, he said.

Just like countless other days. The words were there, but the tone of his voice was flat, the warmth missing. It was as if he was going through the motions, his answer a hollow echo of his usual sentiment. The unease gnawed at you. Was it your mind playing tricks, conjuring up worries where there were none? Perhaps.

But these feelings weren't fleeting moments of anxiety. They had settled deep within you, a persistent unease that had lingered for almost a month. Something had changed, you were sure of it.

The piles of unanswered calls and unread texts served as a constant reminder of his transformation, a stark contrast to the man you once knew. Each unanswered call, each unreturned message, confirmation that he had hidden agendas he's unable to tell you.

.

It was difficult to push him from your thoughts despite his growing distance, his newfound frigidity. He was the one who'd always been there for you, a constant in your life, a safe harbor amidst your storms. He'd made sure that your comfort zone wouldn't crumble, that the cracks in your facade wouldn't widen into gaping wounds.

He’d bandaged your anxieties, reassured you of his love, trying to make sure that your heart, so fragile, wouldn’t ever break. But now, with each passing day, those bandages seemed to be loosening, and the wounds that had been so meticulously concealed began to bleed through.

Love takes many forms, including distraction, not to be confused with destruction.

The unraveling of your comfort zone forced a forgotten lesson back to the forefront of your mind. You had to know the truth. It wasn't easy. The path ahead was bound to be rocky, riddled with doubts and uncertainties, but you had to find your way, even if it meant facing the inevitable verdict you so desperately hoped was false.

Love had a way of clouding judgment, blinding a person to the cracks that were beginning to appear. He thought that massive alterations to Mephisto would go unnoticed, but you noticed.

You noticed the crow's new commands were convoluted as you tried to decipher its new system, its obedience reserved only for its Onichynus master. It was as if he’d put two steps between you, but you weren't one to be outsmarted.

You saved up, pooling your resources, and bought two small, unobtrusive tracking devices. It was a small step, a ripple in a sea of uncertainty, but it was a step nonetheless.

You gambled one day, a desperate act fueled by an insatiable hunger for truth. It was a risky play, a leap of faith, but you had to know. You began to wrap a collar around Mephisto’s neck, the mechanical bird squawking and thrashing in protest, its wings a blur of metal and feathers.

It was a struggle, a desperate dance of resistance, but with the help of your faithful butler, you secured Mephisto in your grasp. You felt a pang of guilt, you'd grown fond of the bird, but the truth, the need for answers, outweighed your remorse, but you can barely handle Mephisto's saddened, quiet caws as he grew fond of you as well.

You didn't know what sorcery Mephisto can sometimes able to feel on his own, nonetheless, it was a sacrifice you had to make in the name of love and the pursuit of truth.

With the leash secured firmly to the edge of your desk, you plunged the room into dim light, a measure to protect the camera from unwanted attention. Then, you turned to your butler, a man of technical prowess, the one who’d always understood the intricacies of Mephisto’s mechanisms. With steady hands, he began the delicate process of disassembly.

With the practiced hands of a seasoned craftsman, your butler begins. The silver cog atop its head, a key to its mobility, must be carefully detached. The delicate wires leading from it, intricately woven like a spider's web, must be disconnected, halting the flow of energy that animates its movements and vision.

It had been some time since that night, yet the memory remained vivid, etched into your mind like a scar. Now, you sat on the couch, your limbs restless, unable to find solace in the familiar comfort of your home. Sylus's actions, his growing distance, his secretive behavior, all gnawed at your mind.

You weren't sure what to think. Mephisto rarely visited you anymore, but sometimes, in a fleeting glimpse of its little figure from the sky, you'd catch sight of him, the collar you’d placed around his neck gone.

You knew, somehow, that Sylus had removed it. The knowledge made your teeth clench. Your doubts grew stronger, fueled by the certainty that he was hiding something.

But luckily, your butler managed to insert the other small tracking device inside Mephisto when the crow was dissected- as you anticipated your lover's potential actions. It was cleverly disguised, blending seamlessly with the crow's black metallic interior, just in case Sylus was trying to take a glimpse inside as well.

He thought he'd completely erased any trace of your sleuthing, but you always had a backup plan. He'd underestimated you, perhaps a mistake born from teaching you to be just as sly as him.

You sighed, a breath of grim determination, and unlocked your phone once more. The map glowed with Mephisto's location, a bright red circle on a backdrop of digital darkness.

The tracker, a nigh-perfect beacon. Dread, anticipation, determination, and anxiety—a cocktail that made your steps wary, every step made you so hesitant. You raced out of your lavish house, into the night, and into your car, following Mephisto's trail, the glowing red circle leading you deeper into the mystery.

Your car zipped past the city lights, the rush of wind against your face a testament to your mounting impatience. You were close, the revelation looming like a storm cloud on the horizon. The building came into view: an architectural masterpiece, a testament to opulence as you parked— it could be Mephisto perched on here somewhere.

Those elegant golden lights illuminating its windows and intricate designs adorning its exterior. As you entered, the grandeur of the interior, even more breathtaking than its exterior, momentarily stole your breath.

But this was not a time for sightseeing, for reveling in luxurious aesthetics. You were here for a different kind of revelation, one that could shatter your world. And for that, you couldn’t afford to draw attention to yourself.

You braced yourself, put on a mask of composure before approaching the reception desk. You couldn't let anyone see the turmoil within, the fear, the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you. "May I ask something, ma'am?" you inquired, your voice attempting nonchalance, though its slight tremor betrayed your façade.

The receptionist, a charming woman with a smile that could lure you into a sales pitch, smiled warmly. "Yes, how may I help you, young lady?" she inquired, mistaking your bundle of nerves for being shy.

A wave of relief washed over you. "May I know if a man named Sylus is currently staying here?" you asked. It was a simple question, but it held the weight of your anxieties, the culmination of your fears and suspicions.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering slightly as she noted the urgency in your voice. But she was a professional, and she quickly recovered, her smile returning. "One sec, miss," she chirped, leaning over the counter to slide open a drawer. She pulled out a logbook, its pages filled with names and dates, and began to search, her eyes scanning quickly for Sylus's name.

The receptionist's eyes scanned the logbook, her finger tracing the lines of names, dates, and numbers. Finally, her finger paused, a smile lighting up her face. "He's on the fifth floor, young lady," she said, her voice warm and helpful. "Room 506. You can find this person on one of the doors." She handed the duplicate of the room's key to you.

A shimmer of hope ignited within you. "Thank you so much," you murmured, your heart swelling with a rush of emotion.

You bowed to the reception desk, then, with a swift move, placed a small bill on the counter. The receptionist’s eyes widened in surprise. She had been happy to help, but this small token of appreciation was unexpected, a pleasant surprise. You couldn't have imagined a quicker, smoother retrieval of information.

The elevator hummed its silent ascent, a slow, steady climb that seemed to amplify your anxieties. The brief wave of relief you'd felt at the reception desk dissipated, replaced by a chilling dread. Each floor you passed seemed to deepen the shadows, casting a foreboding weight on your shoulders. As the elevator doors slid open, revealing the fifth floor corridor, your heart hammered in your chest.

You moved slowly, cautiously, until you reached the door you were seeking. An oblong golden plaque, embossed with the number 506, confirmed the location. You braced yourself, your fingers trembling as they reached for the knob as you unlocked it and hiding the key to your pocket, a silent twist that opened the door, a secret whisper in the symphony of this opulent space.

The once blurring luminescence of the white in seconds as you opened the door you take it in, blurring your irises in seconds until the path ahead becomes clearer. You take a silent stroll to mask your presence and make the dangers of the room unaware. You passed through a couch and several pieces of furniture until you stopped in front of a bed- but you kept your distance a few feet away.

The sight that greeted you made your anger and despair collide, a violent storm of emotions that weakened your legs, the blood draining from your face.

Sylus was there, sitting with his back to you, his arms wrapped around her, kissing each other comfortably, tongues grazing the other. The silky red sheets of the luxurious bed crinkled beneath their combined weight, and their bodies, slick with perspiration, were a testament to the hours they'd spent entwined.

His hand rested possessively on her ass, a lingering touch, while the other brushed the back of her thigh, a gesture that spoke volumes of their intimacy. You were certain, with sickening clarity, that they had been entwined for hours.

“Syl…?” You mumble as you try to lift your head up, loud enough for him to hear. But they were lost in their intimacy, a tableau of forbidden pleasure that made your stomach churn with a mixture of jealousy and disgust.

Both were so immersed into the rhythmic pulse of jazz music thrumming its spell over them, while their arms and legs waltz on each other's skins, your voice could barely register into the room especially to Sylus.

The only thing that broke the immersion was the sudden, urgent caw of Mephisto recognizing you. The mechanical crow, perched on the window sill, had spotted you, its red eyes fixed on your figure. Sylus's head snapped up, his eyes widening with a flicker of surprise.

“Sweetie,” he breathed, a lazy, affectionate drawl that grated on your nerves. He had the audacity to use that pet name, a term of endearment that had once held meaning for you, now laced with irony, a mocking echo of a past that felt worlds away. He was now aware of the storm brewing in your eyes, the silent rage that pulsed through your veins.

“Which one of us is that, Sylus?” You questioned. The tension in the room crackled, palpable, a force that seemed to draw every atom toward the heart of this forbidden encounter.

It was a tense standoff three-way, a collision of love, betrayal, and a simmering rage that threatened to boil over and tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

Sylus remained unnervingly calm, a stillness that bordered on arrogance. As if this situation, this blatant betrayal, was simply another day at the office.

He sighed, a melodic exhale that seemed to underscore his control, and gently eased miss Hunter down beside him. His hand remained intertwined with hers, a possessive gesture, a subtle reminder of his power, his control over her.

You remembered how he once taught you to think before reacting. But this was not applicable to this unjustified situation.

Sylus’s smirk held a trace of begrudging admiration. “How did you find me here? I made sure you wouldn't have any traces of me in my devices,” he remarked, a subtle challenge laced within his words.

He was impressed, not by your intrusion, but by your proficiency, the sheer brilliance of your tracking skills as little to no criminals, compared to you, barely achieved this feat.

The shock was evident in his eyes, a hint of something akin to awe, but he covered it with a façade of casual admiration. "You're two steps ahead of me huh,” he conceded, a grudging acknowledgment of your resourcefulness. “I should have known.” He tried to inject a false, affectionate tone into his words, but it was a poor attempt to disguise his unease. “you're indeed amazing for that. I'll give you the credit, sweetie.”

You surged forward with no explanation for that matter, fueled by a cocktail of anger and betrayal. You lunged, your palm connecting with his cheek with a resounding slap. The force of the blow sent a wave of shock through him, a crimson flush blooming across his cheek.

"Bastard!" you screamed, your voice raw with fury. "You betrayed me! How could you do this to me, after everything?"

Mephisto, sensing the eruption of emotions, flew out the window. The mechanical crow, a silent witness to your heartbreak, had sensed the shift in the atmosphere and retreated, leaving you in this charged space.

Sylus's hand flew to his cheek, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he felt the sting of your blow. He looked up at you, your eyes burning with a heat that threatened to consume him. He saw the inferno of pain, the charred remnants of your trust smoldering within them.

But he reacted with an unsettling calm. As if your fury was but a minor inconvenience.

"What happened to you?" His gaze, unwavering, held a glimmer of something akin to amusement. "I made you a strong woman and you're supposed to react like one." he had a small but bitter chuckle.

You stood there, face to face with him, the raw fury in your heart threatening to spill over. His figure, once a beacon of comfort, now seemed tainted, sinful in its betrayal. His calm, his audacity, ignited a fresh fire in your soul.

"Is this..." you began, your voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak, "Is this...what you meant when you taught me to protect myself from things… including yourself?" You finally completed your sentence, but the struggle to get there was visceral, an agonizing process of grappling with the raw truth.

"Sweetie," he purred, his voice dripping with honeyed sweetness, even as his hand remained possessively intertwined with his mistress's. He raised his head, meeting your gaze with a calm that bordered on a disturbing indifference. His casualness, his ability to betray you with such ease, was both maddening and bewildering.

"Yes," he said, his voice smooth and steady, "I needed you to know how to protect you from myself."

The words struck you like a blow. You were grasping for some semblance of logic, some explanation, some shred of comfort. But the situation was too complex, a tangle of emotions that defied reason.

How could this man, the man who had shaped your world, the man you had believed loved you, be capable of such a betrayal? You knew, you felt, you were certain that he loved you. His teachings, his unwavering support, they had all felt so heartfelt.

Sylus saw the whirlwind of emotions in your eyes, a mix of confusion, disbelief, and hurt. This was not the reaction he had anticipated, a vulnerability that made him feel a twinge of guilt, a brief flicker of mercy.

He took a deep breath, his voice tinged with a mixture of sincerity and uncertainty. "I'm going to be honest, sweetie." He averted his gaze, the weight of his confession a heavy burden. He wasn't a coward, he would always tell you the truth, just as he had taught you to embrace even the most uncomfortable truths.

"I have loved you," he confessed, his voice low and remorseful. "But you need to know, that this woman," he gestured towards the woman beside him, "is the one I love the most. Ever since… Eons ago, as a dragon, she has been with me. Even in the moment of my death," he finished, his voice trailing off.

The revelation struck you with the force of a thunderbolt. The anger, the hurt, the realization that you were, in fact, the other woman—it all washed over you, drowning you in a sea of despair.

This woman, this woman who had been with him for eons, their story, their world, had existed long before you, before your love, before your dreams. You were the one who had been tricked, the one who had been used, the one who had been left behind in the wake of their enduring love.

He turned away from you, his gaze settling on the woman beside him. She seemed flustered, embarrassed by the messy scene they had created, and you felt a wave of pity wash over you. You, too, were a victim in this twisted game of love and betrayal.

Sylus looked at her with an adoring gaze, the same affection he had once showered upon you. It was a sight that stabbed at your heart, a reminder of the love you thought you had shared, now gone, swept away by the tides of time and a love that had existed long before you.

"I remember, clear as day," he continued, his voice smooth, his gaze turning back to you, "Our adventures in Tarus City. The very first mark I placed on her skin." He was painting their courtship, a romanticized narrative that painted a vivid picture of their shared history. He was trying to make sense of it, to justify it—but it was hard for you to listen.

Each detail he shared—the caved city of treasures, the gold that glittered everywhere, how he'd held her waist with his dragon tail, the playful way he snaked up behind her to mark her neck—they were all memories you desperately wished were yours.

He continued,  "And when I laid on the field of crimson flowers, it was the only special place I would let her know and stay and she was on top of me..." It was a scene straight out of a fairytale, a love story that had begun eons ago,  a love that transcended time and death. And you were the outsider, the one who had been fooled, the one who had been left behind.

"In the moment of my death," he said, his voice laced with a profound sadness yet a sense of serenity. "She cursed me before my once more waking life, that I could never die again. I could only disappear in her will and her hands." He says, explaining the curse that the female hunter embedded onto her.

His words, laced with an undeniable truth,  were crushing. You could feel your own heart breaking into a million pieces. You were not part of their story, their love, their world. You were simply a footnote, a brief interlude in a grand romance that had begun before time had even begun.

"I thought I moved on," he admitted,  a trace of guilt in his voice. "But when I felt her newfound presence being around this world,  I couldn't abandon my true love.  It was a promise we made to each other, sweetie."  He was trying to make sense of it all,  to explain it. But it was too late.  The damage was done. His words were like daggers, twisting and turning inside of you.

"Did you think for a second that you used me!?" You choked out the words, your voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal.  The realization hit you like a tidal wave—you weren't just the other woman, you were a pawn in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

"I didn't— but it is my responsibility..  to make amends. But you already know who I chose." Sylus replied, with a calmness that enraged you further. His response, devoid of remorse, was a slap in the face of the earth in yours.

You could no longer hold back the torrent of emotion, of hurt, and humiliation.  Tears streamed down your face. "You used me!" you cried,  your voice hoarse from anguish. You raised your hand, a fierce anger fueling your movement, and slapped him again.

This time, the force of your blow was fueled by the crushing weight of your shattered heart. Your slap resonated with the quiet despair that echoed through the room.

He remained silent, his face stoic, his eyes filled with a grim understanding of the wreckage he had created. He didn't flinch from your blow, nor did he offer any further words of explanation. The silence that settled between you was a testament to the profound devastation he had caused.

You knew then, with a terrible clarity, that you had been a mere chess piece in a game of love, passion, and betrayal,  played by two souls bound by a love that had lasted eons. You had been seduced by his charm, his intelligence, his strength. But you had been blinded by your affection,  blinded by the illusion you had built around him.

"I trusted you…" You choked out the words, the realization of your betrayal heavy on your tongue and the tears breaking down from your etes.  You stumbled back, needing to escape the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you.  Your hand flew to your chest, clutching at the wound of your broken heart. 

"I looked up to you— I loved you!" You felt your voice crack, the weight of your shattered dreams cascading down upon you. "Then you're just leaving me to dust because you found your ancient ex-girlfriend! To deal with this on my own! Do you know how much I told my parents and my friends your loyalty— and you pull this shit out to my face!" The words were a torrent of anger, frustration, and betrayal, pouring out of you like a tidal wave.

"Yes, sweetie, I appreciate all the things you've done for me, too," Sylus conceded, his voice laced with a hint of regret.  It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a glimpse into the man you had once loved. He sounded a little rueful too from his disheartening deed.

But even as he spoke, his hand remained entangled with Miss Hunter's hair now, a constant reminder of his choice, his loyalty to the love that had endured throughout eons.

"But I simply chose what my heart desires and whom it beats for," he continued, his voice a smooth, steady murmur.  His words were a testament to his resolute decision,  a confirmation of his commitment to the woman beside him on the bed.

"It may have skipped for you as well," he added,  a faint flicker of acknowledgement in his gaze. 

"But not in the leaps way beyond mountains she has over me. " His words held a subtle undercurrent of  pride, a hint of boasting,  a reminder that his love for Miss Hunter was a force that defied time. It was as if he was comparing the intensity of his love for you to the enduring passion he shared with Miss Hunter, suggesting that yours was fleeting, while hers was undeniable,   unwavering and endless.

Your back slammed against the ornate, velvet-covered wall and, sending a wave of pain through your body. The rustling of the fire in the chimney heightening the tension.

But right now, nothing can be compared to the crushing pain in your heart. The silence of this opulent room now echoed with the hollow emptiness you felt within. You were stranded, alone,  lost in the wreckage of a love you once believed in, a love that had been a lie.

You had nothing more to say. It was all so clear, so horrifyingly simple. The pieces clicked into place, revealing a picture of betrayal so complete.

You gritted your teeth, tears cascading down your cheeks. "I just hope you won't make attempts to appear in my life again," you said, your voice hoarse.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a ring, a symbol of the future you thought you were building together.  

The ring, a precious gem that once held so much promise, now felt like a poison in your hand.  With a final, desperate action, you flung the ring towards him, the metal clanging against the floor, the impact echoing the shattering of your heart.

"I'm sorry, y/n..." Sylus said, his voice tinged with regret. But it was a regret that felt hollow, a  mere echo of the love he had once professed. His actions spoke louder than any words he could utter, and it was clear that his remorse was only a shadow of the love he held for the woman beside him.

A fire ignited within you, a blaze of fury fueled by heartbreak. You pointed a finger at him, your voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "Fine! We're done, that's what I want too!" You shouted, your words a declaration of war against the man who had betrayed you,  the man you had once loved.

You left him there, the image of his betrayal seared into your soul. You stepped into the elevator, the metal walls closing in on you, pressing down on you like the crushing weight of grief. The silent hum of the elevator felt like a dirge, a mournful symphony for a love that had died.

The lobby with its bustling crowd felt like a blur. You walked past people who were happily chatting,  laughing,  living their lives as if nothing had happened. You felt like a ghost,  moving through a world that had suddenly lost all its color.  It was too much. The dam of your emotions finally broke.

You raced to your car, a blur of movement and tear-stained cheeks. Slumping into the driver's seat, you rested your forehead on the steering wheel,  your body racked by sobs.  It was a quiet grief, a silent scream trapped in a world that no longer made sense.

The barrage of missed calls and texts suddenly made sense to you. Each one, a silent echo of your foolish trust, now felt like a searing reminder of your heartbreak. You kept crying, the weight of your grief feeling like a boulder, a heavy strain on your shoulders. You longed to break free from the torrent of your emotions,  but it felt like you were drowning in them.

But eventually, exhausted from the relentless sobs, you slumped back against the driver's seat, your head resting against the headrest. A quiet sigh escaped your lips, a testament to the depth of your despair.

Then, you heard it. A gentle, unhappy caw. You recognized the distinctive sound, the crimson eyes that peered through the darkened window. It was Mephisto. You unlocked the car window, and he flew in, settling on your finger, his metallic eyes shimmering in the dim light.

“Oh, Mephisto..” You sighed as you stroked his smooth, metallic feathers. Something about his presence, his silent understanding, brought a flicker of warmth to your heart.

“You're such a good friend, you know that?” He cawed softly, and you smiled, the first genuine smile you'd managed since you found out the truth.  It was a small comfort, but right now, it was all you needed.

The fact that he was Sylus' mechanical crow didn't diminish your fondness for Mephisto.  He had become more than just a possession, more than just a tool. Mephisto, as of now, had become a quiet companion, a silent witness to your heartbreak, a source of comfort in a world that had suddenly felt cold and unforgiving.

Life, in its own strange way, had offered you a measure of mercy. You haven't crossed paths with Sylus, not in any of the unexpected places where ex-lovers tend to bump into each other. It was as if fate had conspired to keep you apart, allowing wounds to heal without the added pain of an unwelcome encounter.

Mephisto, somehow, became your regular visitor, a silent observer of your healing process. Sometimes he would arrive with a sense of frustration, his metal eyes flashing a bit brighter, likely due to some altercation with Miss Hunter. 

She probably had a beef with him for being a spy dog, a relic of Sylus' traces. But you always greeted him with a smile and a gentle stroke to his head, the quiet comfort of his presence a comforting touch on your bruised heart.

Time, as it often does, had begun to mend your broken heart. The sting of betrayal still lingered,  a faint echo of the pain you had endured.  But  you were moving forward,  finding solace in  new experiences,  new connections.

You found yourself at a museum,  a haven of quiet beauty and wonder.  You wandered through the halls,  admiring the exhibits,  until you stopped before an aquarium,  captivated by the vibrant underwater world.  A particular fish, a mesmerizing glow emanating from its scales, caught your eye.   You pressed your hand against the glass,  intrigued by the creature’s hypnotic beauty.

"You seem to like that one too, miss? You have good taste,"  a voice said behind you.

You turned,  your heart skipping a beat as you met the gaze of a beautiful stranger.  His soft features had a hint of rebellion,  his  short, wavy indigo hair adding a touch of  charm. He  was  classically handsome,  dressed in  a  crisp white polo with  slightly puffy sleeves that  accentuated his physique,  and a glittering golden necklace adding a hint of  elegance. 

His smile was warm and inviting, and his gaze held a genuine interest. The  initial  hesitation you felt quickly melted away as you found yourself drawn to his charm and  ease. He spoke about the fish, sharing his  expertise, his passion for aquatic life filling  his voice.   

It made you giggle and discovered a shared love for the beauty and complexity of nature, and you found yourself laughing, sharing  stories, and  discovering a connection that  surprised  you.

Your banter with the mysterious man continued, a delightful mix of shared laughter and playful teasing. His initial charm was quickly evident, his playful teasing a welcome change from the dull routine of your days.

He was passionate about aquatic life, but he could be a bit pouty when you touched on sensitive topics. When you mentioned the idea of catching fish from the ocean to sell, he became visibly deflated and pouted a bit at you.

"Oh, please, you can't be serious?" he asked, a snarky tone creeping into his voice.

"It's not right to take creatures from their home just to line your pockets. The ocean is a sacred place, a source of life, and we need to protect it, not exploit it. It's not just about the fish, it's about the whole ecosystem," He defended and you only shrugged just to get him riled up again. Although he did have a point.

Somewhere in the throngs of visitors,  you  failed to notice a familiar pair of crimson eyes. Sylus, he was with his woman as usual, his presence a dark shadow casting  a  subtle regret across his handsome features, had witnessed  this brand new you.

tags. @yukithestar @babygirl-panda19 @rainkissedberries @aetherscribit @athanasia-day

[rootedinrevisions]

Masterlist: Top Gun Maverick

This list is all about the thrill and tension of Top Gun: Maverick. Most of my writing here dives into the cocky charm of Jake "Hangman" Seresin, but you’ll also find some pieces centered around Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, with more stories potentially featuring characters like Robert "Bob" Floyd in the future.

Whether you're into Hangman’s swagger, Rooster’s heart, or curious about the rest of the Top Gun crew, there’s something for every fan of the high-flying action and drama. Strap in and enjoy the ride! ✈️ (UPDATED 12.1.24)

JAKE "HANGMAN" SERESIN

**DRABBLES (Under 1k words)**

Five More Minutes (Jake x Reader)

You and Jake are headed to The Hard Deck to meet the daggers, but a few things risk making you late.

**ONE-SHOTS**

Everything to Me (Jake x Reader)

You arrive in San Diego, eager to spend the weekend with your fiance, Jake Seresin. What begins as an emotion reunion soon takes a complicated turn when you encounter a jealous pilot who's had her eyes on Jake for awhile. A comment she makes, sparks insecurities that challenge your confidence. However, Jake makes it his mission to remind you that you are the only woman he has eyes for. SMUT.

The Rough Side of Hangman's Girl (Jake x Reader)

You’ve always been the quiet one, the kind of girl who prefers soft laughter to loud crowds, and gentle touches over wild passions. But Jake “Hangman” Seresin has a way of drawing out the side of you no one else gets to see. When he steps into your world, he doesn’t just turn your life upside down—he pushes you beyond every boundary you thought you had. Now, with his intense gaze and unyielding hold, you find yourself craving every rough touch, every whispered command. SMUT.

Since Forever (Jake x Reader)

After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur. ANGST. FLUFF.

**SERIES**

Rooster's Shadow (Jake x OC)

When Carly Bradshaw, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw’s younger sister, starts college near her brother’s TOP GUN base, she’s excited for a fresh start. A surprise night out with Rooster introduces her to Jake Seresin, the charming and cocky Navy pilot known as Hangman. As Jake’s attention shifts to Carly, their undeniable chemistry leads to a series of flirtatious encounters that challenge Carly’s feelings and Rooster’s protective instincts.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5

Cop Car (Jake x Reader)

You and Jake enter a restricted area to watch the planes take off. It's all fun and games until the two of you end up cuffed in the backseat of a car. Things only get worse when your dad, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell arrives on the scene. Loosely based on/inspired by Cop Car by Keith Urban because apparently my thing lately has been making fics out of songs.

PART 1 I PART 2

Unplanned Journeys (Jake x OC)

You’ve been feeling off—tired, anxious, and full of doubt. When the realization hits that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. When you finally tell Jake, the conversation is filled with tension and fear.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW

**ONE-SHOTS**

The Night We Fell (Bradley x Reader)

After a night out with friends, you find yourself a little too tipsy and in need of a ride home. When Phoenix calls Bradley to pick you up, what starts as a simple favor turns into an unforgettable evening. Amidst drunken giggles, lingering glances, and unspoken emotions, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur. FLUFF.

Rooster Comes Home to His Girls (Bradley x Reader)

Bradley returns home from a deployment to his girls...his wife and infant daughter. FLUFF.

Let's Find Out Together (Bradley x Reader)

After a painful breakup, you turn to Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, your longtime friend, for support. But as he steps in to help you heal, he reveals that he’s been harboring feelings for you all along. What starts as a comforting distraction quickly turns into an intense, unexpected connection that blurs the line between friendship and something more. Now, as the sparks fly, you're left questioning everything you thought you knew about love, friendship, and passion. SMUT.

To the Sky and Back (Bradley x Reader)

After a falling-out with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, reader tries to piece her life back together, avoiding every place and routine that reminds her of him. But when Bradley faces a high-risk mission, a visit from Natasha "Phoenix" shatters her fragile peace, forcing her to confront the depth of her feelings. With Bradley’s life hanging in the balance, she must decide whether to risk her heart again and let him know just how much he means to her before it's too late. A story of love, loss, and second chances, To the Sky and Back explores the courage it takes to hold on to what truly matters. ANGST. FLUFF.

BRADLEY BRADSHAW & JAKE SERESIN

**ONE-SHOTS**

Between Us Three (Jake x Reader x Bradley)

What begins as lighthearted teasing at The Hard Deck quickly ignites into a night of new experiences as you and your boyfriend, Bradley, invite Jake into an unforgettable night of passion, play, and vulnerability.

No Nut November...or Not (Jake x Reader x Bradley)

When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun? SMUT.

[mononijikayu]

already gone – gojo satoru.

(manga spoilers for chapter 261)

His eyes flicked to yours, a flicker of pain and understanding passing between you. In that moment, you both knew that there would be no going back to the way things were. The choices made here would haunt you, but you also knew that you would face the future together, bound by the shared weight of your decisions and the unspoken promise of support.

GENRE: shinjiku showdown arc (spoilers for chapter 261)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: already gone by sleeping at last

NOTE: im mourning so hard, i haven't stopped crying. but i cried more because i can't imagine how my oc would feel considering genmei views satoru as her lifeline. im not even at that part of the story writing, but genmei would be hit hard. she wouldnt be able to move on. she wouldn't be able to stop crying either. but i needed to write this, to get the emotional brunt off my chest. i hope that this comforts you a little as it did with me. i love you all. hugs for everyone.

masterlist

u s and t h e m

THERE REALLY WAS NO GOING BACK FROM THIS. You and Satoru sat alone amidst the aftermath, the bodies of the higher-ups lying around you, a grim testament to the brutal reality you both faced. 

The silence was heavy, a suffocating weight that pressed down on your chest as you stared at the carnage. The acrid scent of blood and death hung in the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang that coated your tongue. Each breath felt like an effort, the gravity of what had transpired settling over you like a dark cloud.

Satoru, usually so carefree and unbothered, looked uncharacteristically solemn. His usually bright, mischievous eyes were shadowed with emotions embroiling into a chaotic harmony. 

He sat close to you, his hand resting on the ground beside yours, fingers almost brushing but not quite. The unspoken connection between you had always been palpable. Even when both of you were a bit younger. It was if anything, even when you both lost Suguru, a thin thread of solace in the midst of the horror.

You glanced at Satoru, seeking some form of reassurance, but his gaze was fixed on the bodies, his jaw clenched tight. The weight of the recent events bore down on you both, the decisions made, the lives taken, all swirling in a chaotic maelstrom of regret and necessity. 

There was no other choice. Not when there was such little time, when there was no way you would leave this for the kids to wrap up. It was a moment where the true cost of your responsibilities became painfully clear, the price paid in blood and sacrifice. This is all that will secure the future.

Satoru finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. "We did what we had to." he said, more to himself than to you, as if trying to convince himself of the necessity of their actions. “Don’t think too much.”

You nodded, though your heart ached with the truth of his words. "I know." you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But after all this time, I thought it would be easier.”

You did think it was easier. You knew what it was like to kill human beings. The act of taking a life was not foreign to you; it had been part of your existence as a jujutsu sorcerer for as long as you could remember. The initial shock and horror of it had dulled over time, replaced by a grim acceptance of necessity. Each death was a means to an end, a way to protect the innocent, to rid the world of curses, to maintain balance. Yet, today felt different.

The bodies of the higher-ups lay sprawled around you, their lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. These were not faceless enemies or malevolent curses; these were people you had known, some for years. Their ambitions, their fears, their humanity—it all lay exposed in the finality of their deaths. You and Satoru had made a choice, one born out of desperation and the need for a new order, but the cost of that choice now weighed heavily on your soul.

You have always been able to justify your actions in the past. Each kill had been a step toward a greater good, a necessary evil in the grand scheme of things. But this? This felt like a betrayal of the very essence of what you stood for. These were your peers, your allies, albeit flawed and corrupt. The distinction between right and wrong blurred, leaving you adrift in a sea of moral ambiguity.

Satoru's hand tightened around yours, a silent anchor in the storm of your thoughts. His presence was a reminder that you were not alone in this, that he too bore the weight of what you had done. You glanced at him, searching for some semblance of solace in his expression. His face was a mask of determination, but his eyes—those piercing blue eyes—betrayed a depth of sorrow that mirrored your own.

His eyes flicked to yours, a flicker of pain and understanding passing between you. In that moment, you both knew that there would be no going back to the way things were. The choices made here would haunt you, but you also knew that you would face the future together, bound by the shared weight of your decisions and the unspoken promise of support.

“Hm, it doesn’t.”

Silence engulfs you both.

Your eyes flared downward.

A sigh passes through your lips.

"It's not in you to have liked to do this." you finally said, breaking the silence. Your voice trembled with the weight of unspoken emotions, the sorrow churning in layers unknown. “To decide the upper floors had to go.”

Satoru sighed, his gaze fixed on the horizon, a faraway look in his eyes. "We had no choice," he replied, his voice devoid of its usual lightheartedness. "We have no more time to indulge in the future."

There was so much you wanted to say, so many arguments and pleas that burned on the tip of your tongue. But the words refused to come, trapped in the maelstrom of your conflicted heart. Satoru seemed to sense your turmoil, turning to face you, his piercing blue eyes searching yours.

"Just say it," he urged gently. "Tell me how you hate me for what Yuuta and I agreed to do, should I lose to Sukuna."

You met his gaze, the pain and love in your eyes reflected in his own. "I do hate you," you whispered, the confession tearing at your soul. "Because I love you too much."

Satoru's expression softened, and he stood, walking over to you. He pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. "The loss of me will pass," he murmured against your hair, his breath warm on your skin. “Hm? You will always move forward. You have to.”

You clung to him, the thought of losing him more than you could bear. "You say it as it is. I had to. Not because I wanted to.”

He laughs a little, echoes of guilt layered among it.. “But you will this time too.”

This is what you think you hated the most about Satoru. How settled he was in his ways, how stubborn he was with his plan. It was a means to an end. As long as it brought down the system, he didn’t care about what happened. As long as his students lived, he didn’t care. And yet you wondered, what he would leave you with. 

How much emptiness, how much grief he would let you settle for years and years — because he cared more about the world he wanted to build. In a way, you loved Satoru too much. You loved him so much you went against the world you had always known.

You had a dream of a normal life. Once when Kaiko and Namie were alive. Once with Shoko, Suguru and Satoru. When all you had left was Satoru, you were determined to live for him. 

But you never gave up on that dream That you would have that white picket fence life. That you would raise a family. That you would grow old with him. But you should have known. You should have known that he was too far gone for you to reach. 

Even with all the love that was between you, you should have known that love would not be enough to bring him back to life. Gojo Satoru had decided that love was a curse. And he lived by it. Geto Suguru had given it to him. 

And he had accepted it. And since that day, you knew that he would have never let it go. Yet, what right do you have to judge him for it? You felt the same, when Kaiko died. And you never looked back. 

“I loved you too much to let you just be a passerby in my life," you finally  said, your voice breaking. "I've lost too much already, Satoru. But…. but to lose you would break me."

He held you tighter, his voice steady and resolute. "You have to be strong, for me and for everyone, y’know that." he said. "They'll need you when I'm gone."

His words cut deep, but you knew he was right. The world would keep turning. The sun would keep moving forward. The march of time, the echo of life would not change. It will go on and on. Even without him. People would need you to be there, to fight for them, to protect them. But the thought of a world without him was a dark, hollow void in your life, in your heart. In your soul. More tears flowed in your eyes. 

Memories echoed in your head, as though they were just reels of your life in a picture show. You knew he could see it too, as though his six-eyes could see it as painfully as you could. As clearly as possible. Eleven years of life, motioned into small moments. Small  moments that encompassed your whole world. Because he was your world. He was your whole world. 

2011

You and Satoru spent a day at the beach, the sun high in the sky and the ocean waves crashing gently against the shore. He chased you along the sand, laughter bubbling up as you tried to escape his playful grasp. When he finally caught you, he lifted you up and spun you around, both of you dizzy with happiness.

You collapsed onto the sand together, breathless and smiling. "I wish we could stay here forever," you said, looking out at the endless horizon.

He squeezed your hand, his voice soft and sincere. "We can always come back. This place will always be here for us. We’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki with us next time too.”

You smile back at him. “I’d like that, Satoru. More than you know.”

2013

One quiet night, you both lay on a blanket under a canopy of stars, the world around you silent and still. Satoru pointed out constellations, his voice a soothing murmur in the darkness.

"There's Orion," he said, tracing the outline with his finger. "And over there is Cassiopeia."

You nestled closer to him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. "Do you think we'll always have moments like this?" you asked softly.

He wrapped an arm around you, his voice filled with certainty. "Always. No matter what happens, we'll always find our way back to each other."

2014

Your New Year's together that year was magical. You stood on a rooftop, watching fireworks light up the night sky. The colors exploded in brilliant patterns, reflecting in Satoru's eyes as he pulled you close.

"Happy New Year," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss.

"Happy New Year," you replied, feeling a sense of hope and excitement for the future. "Let's make this year unforgettable."

He smiled, his arms wrapped securely around you. "Every year with you will be unforgettable."

“You guys make me sick.” Megumi whispered under his breath, taking a bite out of his cake. 

“Megumi, don’t say that! They’re in love.” Tsumiki says, smiling at the sight of you and Satoru.

You both could only laugh.

2017

In the quiet of the night, you and Satoru sat together, your hearts heavy with grief for the loss of Suguru. The weight of his absence hung in the air like a tangible presence, a reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of duty and honor.

Satoru's normally bright eyes were dimmed with sorrow, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the burden he carried. You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours, offering what little comfort you could in the face of such profound loss.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I had to do it. I had no choice."

You squeezed his hand, offering silent understanding and support. "I know," you replied softly. "It wasn't easy, but you did what had to be done. Suguru understood that."

Tears welled in Satoru's eyes as he leaned into your embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of your presence. In that moment of shared sorrow, you held each other close, finding strength in your love and the knowledge that you would always be there for one another, no matter what trials lay ahead.

Satoru pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a sorrowful intensity. "Remember all the things we wanted?" he began softly. "Now all our memories, they're haunted."

Tears welled in your eyes as his words resonate deeply within you. "We were always meant to say goodbye." you whispered, your voice trembling. 

"Even with our fists held high, it never would have worked out right," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "We were never meant for do or die, darling."

A sob escaped your lips, and you shook your head. "I didn't want us to burn out, Satoru" you said, your voice breaking. "I didn't come here to hurt you now. I don't want to hurt you. But now I.... I can't stop."

Satoru gently cupped your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears. "I want you to know that it doesn't matter where we take this road. Someone's gotta go."

His words cut through you like a knife, the finality of it all hitting you hard. "It doesn't have to be you."

He smiles shaking his head.

"And I want you to know you couldn't have loved me better," he said, his voice full of love and regret. "But I want you to move on, so I'm already gone."

“How do I do it?” You sobbed to him. “Without you?”

“You can.” He presses a kiss against your nose. “And you will.”

“You were meant to grow old with me.” You croaked to him.

"But now you’ll do it for me. For the both of us, hm? Live a long life." Satoru shakes his head, his voice gentle but firm. "Keep Gakuganji in check. You know that old geezer can’t be trusted to keep the straight line.”

“Satoru….”

“Keep the jujutsu world at peace on my behalf.”

You shake your head against his chest.

You hit your arms against his figure.

Infinity was always down when it was you.

“Live long so that you have stories to tell me."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. "I hate you!" you repeated, the words laced with anguish. “I really really hate you.”

He laughed sadly, a bittersweet sound that echoed in the empty space around you. "I know, darling." he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I know."

In that moment, you both understood the depth of your bond, the unspoken promises and the inevitable heartache that lay ahead. But for now, you held onto each other, finding solace in the shared pain and the love that had brought you together.

When you let him go that day, you knew.

You would have to wait until you were gray.

You looked at Shoko and you shook your head.

Your eyes were too red to even look one last time..

As far as you were concerned, he was already gone.

[hisui-dreamer]

of scheming hearts

Pairing: Jade Leech x f!reader

Synopsis: if you're born into the enemy family, you suppose the best solution would be to simply switch sides

Tags: cliché isekai plots, reincarnation, enemies to lovers, female reader, historical setting, mentioned abuse and neglect, unhealthy mental states, arranged marriages, patriarchal society drama, angst with comfort, fluffy end, long fic

Word count: 2.7k+

Notes: this is my magnum opus omg i really loved writing this hahaha. happy birthday my most beloved adorable eel!

Floyd's Villainess ✧ Malleus' Villainess

✧Side Story✦Masterlist

There once lived a villainess who desired nothing more than to be wanted.

Her family, newcomers to the nobility, had ascended the social hierarchy due to their vital contributions to the kingdom. The baron, burdened by the weight of lineage, pined fervently for an heir, as the baroness had endured the heartache of multiple miscarriages, casting dark doubts upon her ability to provide a rightful successor to the barony.

In her heart, the villainess despised her ill-fated gender, for the world deemed her unworthy, and even her own mother rarely graced her presence, leaving her in the care of a faithful nanny.

But the villainess' destiny took a sinister turn when, at long last, the baroness bore a son. A grand celebration erupted throughout the barony, and slowly, the servants who had once watched over the young villainess began to shirk their duties, knowing the baroness's newfound obsession with her own offspring left no room in her heart for her daughter.

Now that the barony had secured its coveted heir, the young villainess was deemed nothing more than a pawn in the grand game of arranged marriages. It was hardly a shock when the baron agreed to a proposal from a prosperous merchant family, one that required no dowry for their daughter's hand in marriage.

The baroness recognized the potential of this union to solidify ties with the merchant family, and thus, at the tender age of fourteen, the young villainess was whisked away to the merchant family's opulent estate to meet her new family.

Life amidst the merchants was a vast improvement for the villainess. No longer was she subjected to neglect or mockery; the servants treated her with respect, and she embarked on a journey of education. Her heart was filled with a desire to repay her new family, particularly her fiancé, who had captured her affections. He was the first man to treat her as an equal, to make her heart dance with laughter, and to seek her companionship. She pledged her life to stand by his side.

The merchant family was locked in a fierce rivalry with another merchant clan, the Leeches, who hailed from the coastal regions. The eldest son of the merchant family, the villainess's betrothed, harboured an intense loathing for the Leech family, yearning to obliterate their family and monopolize the region.

With unwavering determination, the villainess sought to become an indispensable asset to her beloved, mastering the ways of a merchant and honing her intellectual prowess. Her aim was clear: sabotage the Leeches' endeavours, be ahead of their plans, and outwit them at every turn.

These actions did not go unnoticed by the second son of the Leech family, a man of keen intellect and a gift for persuasive speech. He was captivated by the villainess's cunning and sharp mind, and a rivalry was born. They vied to outsmart each other, exchanging backhanded compliments at public gatherings, while also skilfully anticipating and countering each other's moves.

However, the villainess's world crumbled when she discovered her beloved fiancé, the very man she had dedicated her life to was having an affair, and to a mere maid. Yet, her heart was not consumed by anger. She believed her inadequacy was the root of the problem, that she had not done enough to please him. Her efforts to ruin the Leech family became more direct, driven by the desire to earn her beloved's admiration.

Alas, the recognition she yearned for would never be hers. One momentous day, during a tea party she hosted to celebrate the success of her new business, an attempt was made on the life of the Leech family's heir, by a maid, the same one her fiancé was infatuated with, sought to poison him. Miraculously, the dosage of the poison was not lethal, but it left the heir bedridden for days.

The Leech family launched an intense investigation to unmask the culprit, and it did not take long for her lover to implore her to take the blame, to save his beloved.

Love, as it often does, clouded even the sharpest minds. The villainess, whose only desire was to please her beloved, agreed to shoulder the blame.

And so, she found herself imprisoned in a dark, desolate cell, wasting away the prime of her youth. But there was one person who would pay her a fateful visit, the man who had once been her rival.

"I didn't want you to end up like this," he began, shattering the eerie silence of the dungeon.

A faint smile graced her lips. "A place like this does not befit a gentleman like you," she replied.

He chuckled bitterly. "Please, my dear, you and I both know I am far from a gentleman."

She shook her head fondly, well aware of his misdeeds in the shadows. "Well, you always were a gentleman to me..."

The air grew thick with unsaid words, until he found the courage to break the silence once more. "Why did you take the blame?"

She sighed. "Whatever do you mean, Leech?""

He scoffed. "You had countless chances to harm my family before, and you never did. You always played fairly. If you had attempted such a thing, it wouldn't have been so sloppily done, and you certainly wouldn't be sitting here now." His intense gaze implored her to explain herself.

She cursed him in her mind for knowing her that well, but in the twisted life she's lived, maybe he was the only one who truly knew her.

"... Leech, you wouldn't know how it feels to be not wanted," she muttered, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

He stared at her in silence, unable to respond to the depths of her words.

"From one rival to another," she breathed, "may I ask for one last request?"

"Of course," he replied, his eyes cast down. "It would be cruel of me to deny my lady's request."

She huffed at his words. "I... I seem to have a craving for bitter almonds... They're my favourite snack, you see. Could you bring me some?"

She looked up to stare into his eyes, for perhaps the last time. His mismatched eyes were glossy, his eyebrows furrowed and it was the most emotion she had ever seen on his face.

"As you wish... I shall have them delivered before dawn," he replied hoarsely, his voice trembling as he turned to leave.

"Thank you... Jade."

The man froze in his steps, his heart heavy with the name you had never called, before resolutely walking away from the prison cell.

The next morning, the villainess was found to have passed away with a smile on her face, an empty box that still carried the faint scent of almonds cradled in her arms.

though Jade wasn't the main character, he and his twin brother grew largely popular for their interesting banter and chemistry with the main protagonist

the fans were particularly fascinated with his tragic love story, though they were only told bits and pieces of it, since the main plot was more focused on how the main protagonist would pull Jade out of his slump and get revenge for his love

we're told Jade fell in love with "a remarkable woman who was used as a mere pawn all her life"

the fanbase collectively agreed the villainess deserved a better ending, and more so for Jade who became so emotional for her despite always keeping up his appearances

the gap moe was just too strong to resist

and though you wished for him to get a better ending, you never imagined being the one to rewrite the ending, and especially not as the reincarnated villainess

by the time you entered the story, you had just gotten affianced to the scumbag of the merchant family

but even living in her birth family for a month was enough to make you realise how deep the villainess' trauma ran

even more so when you experienced the kind treatment in the merchant family, it was no wonder the villainess' detached mind threw away all reason to dedicate herself to her scumbag of a fiancé

perhaps she had never known companionship, but for you, the scumbag's attitude was an instant red flag

he would gift you cheap gifts he found on the street, constantly remind you what an honour it was to be his fiancée, but you suppose even these acts could warm the heart of a wounded child

you know that the Jade would eventually become your rival, and you would sacrifice yourself to protect the scumbag

buuut, you also know Jade fell in love with the villainess

so, if you were to side with Jade and help him put the merchants family under the Leech family's influence, there's a high likelihood he would spare you

and even if he doesn't fall in love with you, you would still be a skillful businesseswoman that could continue to work for the Leech family, or simply start your own business

basically just side with Jade and do not harm the Leech family!

only... the novel was far too vague about the "genius of the villainess", and you only know some of Jade's business plans

this means actually studying business and transforming yourself into a crafty businesswoman worthy of being the rival of Jade Leech (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

but you can do it!! the villainess managed to, so why can't you?

and soon you started working on the field, actively working in information guilds and business ventures so you could make a name for yourself for him to notice you

and it didn't take long before you had your first encounter at a ball

A velvety voice spoke from behind you, "I don't believe I've made your acquaintance, my lady."

You turned gracefully, offering an elegant smile as you dipped into a curtsey. "Indeed, I don't believe I have. May I have your name, sir?"

He reciprocated with a courteous smile. "My name is Jade Leech, it's a pleasure to meet you,"

"Mr. Leech," you nodded with a hint of intrigue. "I'm—" Before you could complete your introduction, he interjected.

"My dear, I already know who you are," he said, something sinister twinkling in his hypnotic eyes. "Let's skip the pleasantries, shall we?" he suggested, and you noticed that the other guests had discreetly departed, leaving only the two of you.

"It seems my lady is quite bold, your business endeavours are rather... striking," he hummed.

A chuckle escaped your lips. "I shall take that as a compliment." Your veins tingled with anticipation, for the game had begun, and you had no intention of losing. "I'm rather impressed by your family's ventures as well,"

"Oh?" he arched an elegant eyebrow. "Do elaborate."

Game set.

"Your family operates with remarkable efficiency, I suppose any business would only aspire to such!" You said. "Hmm... It's a miracle how swiftly you've gained the support of so many reliable allies..."

You noticed a slight falter in his composure, surprised that you possessed information about the Leech family's coercive tactics, how they had either threatened or bribed indebted families into compliance.

Match.

You inched closer to him, standing on slight tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "I think we can agree we can both hurt each other, but I'd much rather think about what we could accomplish together..."

Stepping back with a smug grin, you took in his expression, adorably dazed. "Now, if you'll excuse me," you curtsied once more before turning to take your leave.

But if you had looked back, you would have seen Jade Leech with his hand concealing a sly smile, a faint blush tingeing his ears.

from that meeting, you've basically become business partners with Jade

though you do so secretly in guild meetings so the scumbag doesn't find out

you offer Jade with your family's business plans and the two of you come up with ideas to make it seem like the Leech family naturally outshone them

of course, Jade was rather suspicious of you at first, after all, why would you be working against your future in laws??

but you explained to him that, in reality, they never saw you as family

you were just a pawn in their eyes, and particularly because the marriage wasn't official yet, you were the best person to discard in order to affect the family

you could have been wrong, but it felt as if there was a bubbling anger deep within Jade's eyes as you explained your situation to him

but he very quickly switched back to his typical closed eye smile, eagerly talking about another plan to thwart your family's business

what also came as a surprise was that the poisoning incident failed

somehow, floyd's fiancé realised his tea was poisoned

still you can't deny the glee you felt when Jade assured you that he knew you didn't do it

but now, the Leech family is adamant to make the merchant family, and particularly the maid suffer

so Jade devises a plan to simultaneously protect you, and set up the downfall of the family

rumours started to spread of what cruel and immoral woman you were, scandalous bribes made with the city guards, indecent behaviour spent with your colleagues, all painting the picture of a wicked woman

the scumbag very quick to fall into the trap, started accusing you of having affairs and illicit trading

you denied these accusations, but your words did little to calm him

and all it took was a little alcohol (courtesy of Jade) to make him declare an annulment of your engagement at a party

maybe jade set up more rumour spreaders to make him more anxious, but you'll never know for sure

so as planned, you accept the annulment

but of course, you've been well-prepared to fight back against these baseless accusations, so one by one, you refute them with your business logs and witnesses to prove your innocence

your fiancé is speechless at the end of it, and the whispers of the crowd seem to show you've successfully declared your innocence

you quickly excuse yourself to a balcony to "regain your composure" and asked everyone to continue the festivities

but it wasn't long before a familiar face joined you

You didn't need to turn around to know who the footsteps were from. "Leech, the curtains are drawn. Shouldn't a gentleman such as yourself know the balcony is occupied?"

You turned to face him, finding his eyebrows furrowed in an amused manner. "My apologies. I assumed my lady might welcome some company," he replied playfully. "What's the matter my lady, you don't seem happy with the annulment at all."

A wistful smile graced your lips. "I am happy, of course, this is what we've worked towards..." You turned your gaze skyward, your eyes glistening. "It's just... I won't have anywhere to return to now,"

"Whatever do you mean?"

You scoffed. "Please, as if you didn't investigate my background before we even met," you retorted, turning to him with incredulity. "...you know I have no place in that house," you murmured quietly into the night.

"My pearl," he reached to cup your cheek, directing your gaze towards him. "How would you find a place next to me?"

His suggestion left you wide-eyed. "But the dowry-"

"You know I have no need of that," he smiled. "In fact, I think I should prepare a gift for my in-laws,"

"I wouldn't want them benefiting from you-"

"Now, now my dear," he tenderly brushed away the stray tear that fell, "when have you ever know me to be so kind? I would of course make them... suffer, a little," he added with a mischievous grin.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his proposal. "Hahaha! I like the way you think, Leech,"

"Is that a yes, then?" he asked, his eyes tenderly focused on you.

You leaned up to him, pressing your lips to his. He initially froze at the contact, but then melted into your embrace.

"It's a yes, Jade."

within days, you had moved into the Leech estate, and the family very fervently welcomed you

floyd has mentioned several times how this was Jade's dream come true and how he's glad he doesn't have to spend hours moping in the library about not seeing you anymore

and as expected, the merchant family soon found itself crumbling into a financial crisis now that you left them

the leech family graciously saved the family from bankruptcy, leaving them in debt of them

and Jade scoured/fabricated enough evidence from the silver hairpin and the teacup to apprehend the maid, leaving the scumbag alone and heartbroken

and though your blood family received a large sum from the Leech family, started facing financial difficulties left and right due to unsuccessful investments

it seems your new fiancé isn't very forgiving towards anyone who wrongs you

but then again, you wouldn't forgive anyone for crossing your eel either

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon comes to comfort you.

Warnings: drama, angst because of reasons; fluffy though because we love writing fluffy Aegon. Long post.

***

What a strange bond you and the lord Aegon share. As the daughter of Ser Gwayne of House Hightower, you were raised as part of the Targaryen family since you could remember—but comparison, implicitly as it was, was always there.

You always aimed to please so what else could you do if not doing as told? You were raised to be like your royal aunt but your sweet nature prevented to emulate her flaws. Indeed your wit was as sharp as knife and your tongue could ricochet when provoked, but only your looks could tell what were you doing amidst an incestuous family.

Nevertheless, against all odds you did get well with them. How could it not be? You were raised with your cousins, but it was Aegon who climbed your walls and knocked them out.

Though he’s expected to marry his sister, it’s you whom he follows everywhere. There are whispers at court, but, as you told your aunt once, where there are tongues, words will be spoken.

Yet… now you are a young woman, in an age close to marry. You have no dragons to ride and all you can brag is about winning Aemond over poetry competition.

At times you are next to Helaena, but you feel outshone by your sweet cousin.

What is this, what is this that torments me so?

You have demons to fight underneath your mask of duty and you do not like when they crave their claws on your flesh. So today you withdraw, certain that no one is going to notice your absence.

When you do so, melancholy has you on its trap. You are swallowed by it, there staying whilst your footsteps automatically sway out of their view. You dissociate, rewinding the times you disappointed every one you know.

Perhaps what is worse is the day Princess Helaena and Prince Aegon’s betrothal is announced. You found yourself wishing to be in her shoes, the perfect Princess.

Disgusted by mundane sentiments you are suffocated when confronted by your imperfections. You need some air. Perhaps the gardens will offer some solution.

Barefoot, your Hightower curls are blown off your head the more you run into the labyrinth of green towers of leaves and pomades. Tears roll out, uninvited, as if the grip around them is now loose. Because at the center of this rarely visited labyrinth lies a cold stoned bench where you sit and burst into silent, painful tears.

*

Even a merry prince as himself needs some moment to himself. Regardless of how fearful he is of loneliness—which is usually mistaken as a moment of fragility—, Aegon feels in the air that not all is well as it should.

It takes no more than a few minutes to notice the lady Y/N Hightower’s escape of the court. He sighs. Thus the recollections begin as the silver haired Targaryen royal retraces your steps.

I remember well, my lady, when we bonded. It was odd that someone laughed at my sarcastic remarks; that a relative would appreciate my fierceness, or even compliment my efforts in reading messy words.

Whenever I was faulted for not being hard working like Aemond, or when envy consumed my poor soul for being overshadowed by Rhaenyra, you stood for me. You held my hand, dismissed my fragilities and reassured me I was as good as any of them. You encouraged me flying with Sunfyre when I was anguished before the Strong boys. You never failed to surprise me, a deed few—if any at all—accomplished.

But I was so selfish…. When you fell, where was I? When you wept, where was I? When your strength was shaken, I failed you. I blinded myself because I supposed you and Aemond were too bright to burn. I whored because the idea of you led me to believe I was unworthy—as my mother often remarked that she found our friendship rather unusual, uncommon, unmatched: you, the perfection; me, the broken man.

Indeed she has been correct in her judgement. But reason often tormented me because I am too weak to surpass myself. Where there are obstacles, I see an invitation to encourage my sins; where there are defiances, I convince myself I lack capacity to overcome them.

I am not brave. No, my precious lady. This errant prince is unworthy of your affection. Nonetheless… I will rescue you. You will see that I am capable of loving, even if this means to admit I cannot be loved.

The sight of you in complete distress makes him rush his steps. Part of him is relieved to see you haven’t done anything imprudent, but another prays anxiously for whatever deity that he is not the cause of your atonement.

“Goodness!”, you almost cry out when you see Aegon. You stand quickly, trying to recompose yourself. “A-Aegon! I mean, my lord cousin.”

You try desperately to omit your distress, to conceal your anxiety, but Aegon sees through you. The prince holds your wrists and pulls you against him.

“Don’t. Don’t do this, Y/N.”

Still holding a hand over your right wrist, he releases his free hand to gently brush away your eyes, after lifting your chin so he can read the pain in them.

“We’ve already surpassed this phase, haven’t we? It’s long gone since that day where… well, where we had mutual accusations of distrust”, says he, pleased to make you chuckle lightly.

“True. We are not children anymore”.

The distance is short. Shorter than what usually is. You can smell his scent, which only infuriates your racing heart.

“Then why are you running away?”

You sigh. Something about his long gaze at you, at the kindness behind his lilac irises, at the soft smile on his lips… is enough to disperse your insecurities.

“I am not running away.”

It’s a weak protest, a lie that Aegon knows what it really means. He once used it to shy away everyone who dares to approach him. For some reason, this old tactic never worked with you. It is only natural that it has no success with him as well.

“You are not well. What troubles you, my sweet? Always the dutiful daughter, always the merry one of us all, the prideful daughter of Old Town.” He strokes your cheek once more. “The stories we created, the past I was part of… cannot be just that.”

“We forged a very good bond, didn’t we?”

“Indeed.” Then a flash of hurt crosses his gaze for a moment. “Is it what it is, though? A good bond is what we have?”

And just like that you set yourself free of his touch. Where there was warmth, now there is cold.

“I cannot… Do not make me say what I may regret. Leave me to my pain, to be tormented by my delusions.”

“I may be many of the things I am accused of. However, to be careless is not one of them.” Aegon takes you by your arm, forcing you to turn at him. “Tell me I am only a memory, that we are nothing.”

“I was always yours, cousin. But you were never mine”, you burst out what’s been killing you. “I am not Helaena. Nor a Targaryen can I be considered! What am I? Who am I? Somewhere along the lines I became what is expected! But I lost myself in the process.”

“I will not sacrifice us for duty!” He holds you against him, your frame tied in between his arms. You find the same anguish in his eyes, the old desperation that equals yours, an entire ocean of profound sentiments that invite to an inevitable drowning.

Cupping your cheeks with his hands, he stares back at yours.

“It pains me that I am not able to take away your suffering. Miserable is the man who cannot uphold a sword to battle his damsel’s torments. For years I accepted that I failed before the world. But when it comes to you, Y/N, I am not afraid of the dark. I am not that fucking cunt. You never left me on my own. Unworthy as I am, hardly magnanimous as others might suggest to make me their jest, you remain.”

“I am a sinner, Aegon. Filth with…”

He covers your mouth, impeding words to come out of your disgraced soul any longer.

“For years we repressed it. Nay, Y/N. Do not make us miserable anymore. I shall make you mine at the cost of all.” And yet when battles seemingly obstinate at the cost of your breakdown, he holds you close. “Come here. Let us leave this world, uh? I know exactly what you deserve.”

You stay there for a moment, taking his words as what you need to hear. What you need to heal. Aegon is your balsam, and this is touching in many ways.

The rogue prince, rejected by all of those who, by blood, are moved by this familiar pretense of loving him, is someone else’s solace. You, often the strong one, so sensible and reasonable, rely on his feeble, meek prince whose divinity is nothing but a mask.

Thus you stay. And he loves you more than he can admit.

*

Sunfyre seems to smile at you when Aegon gleefully takes you to him.

“Come now. He won’t bite you!”, your rogue prince beams at you. He extends his hand at you. “Do you honestly think this is a privilege I give everyone I know?”

His golden scaled dragon seems to huff as if to say: “Indeed, my lady. Do you honestly think I would allow anyone to ride me besides Aegon?”

You giggle softly. Aegon sees you blushing, the idea of enjoying a privilege few would ever do makes you suddenly shy. Your face is adorably pink, a great sight to behold when adding to it your loose curly red hair.

“Well?”

“I do not mean to keep you waiting”, you take his hand, enjoying the warmth of your fingers locked. “Thank you for having me, Sunfyre.”

The winged creature looks at you pompously, a very adorable sight that makes you smile.

“How can one not smile before the most beautiful dragon there has ever been?”, says Aegon, resting his face against Sunfyre’s forehead. “Heavens know this is just… unmatched.”

“You have a very strong bond with this one”, you observe, smiling.

“He understands me like no other”, Aegon smiles as Sunfyre confirms him with its own way of showing tenderness. “We belong to each other.”

“Indeed. I am pleased he takes you as who you are. It is what it should have always been.”

“Come now. Let us fly!”

You take the hand offered even though you are not dressed for the occasion. As Sunfyre opens its wings and begins to fly, his hands around your waist ensure you that you are safe.

“You may be Targaryen in your own way, Y/Nickname”, Aegon whispers in your ear. “But I prefer you being Hightower. It has a better ring to it, hasn’t it? Lady Y/N Hightower.”

You giggle like a little girl. Oh, once upon a time you dreamed of this moment. It is unique, indescribable. He is so close to you, carefree and merry.

His arms around your waist as he leads the way when pulling the reins of Sunfyre, at the same time letting it be leaded by this beautiful golden winged creature.

Wind blows your hair, messing it all the way as you fly higher and maybe a choked sound comes out of your throat. Adrenaline runs in your veins and for a second you fear you are about to fall.

“Trust in me, my lady! You are safe with me!”, Aegon chuckles quietly.

You can only nod. Despite the fear, you trust your guts, and delegate all the power to him. Aegon’s face is close to yours so he can read your expressions, the subtle change in your countenance quite clear. And yet when you relax, when your shoulders are light again, he knows the value of your trust.

Taking the opportunity to surprise you, he is bold enough to press his lips against your cheek.

“Oh, Aegon!”, you blush, batting your eyelashes timidly.

“Are you enjoying this adventure?”, Aegon looks so content like he hasn’t been in years.

When your gazes meet, you forget that he is promised to another. You are led to believe he is delegating his heart to your possession. Against reason, you nurture hope.

“More than I deserve. Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Anything for my lady”, and even up in the skies he takes your hand and presses a kiss on it.

This time Sunfyre flies slowly, stable as it is up in the air. It is when Aegon takes his time to enjoy it with you.

“Aegon…”, you hesitate.

“Yes?”

He waits. When he does so, eyes are locked in a long gaze. He notices the color that paints your irises, the red that paints your curls, your long nose and heart-shaped face. Sweet features that mirror the kindness within. Your lips tremble and the prince is eager to hear those words.

Those three words that he too is eager to pronounce, tasting them for the first time in a lifetime of rage and frustration.

“I am scared to speak my mind.”

Aegon puts a hand over your chin, his callous hand moving higher to cup your cheek. To fight away the remaining shadows of your heart, right at the twilight, he knocks his pride down when choosing to be the one to say what must be said.

“Y/N Hightower, throughout these years my cold heart has been endeared to a new sentiment of a kind I never experimented before, often judged to never feel it because I was deemed unworthy of it. The root to my heart has been uneasy, I know, and yet you took it with the bravery of your gentleness.”

As the words come out so naturally, you blush deeper. You’d look away if he doesn’t make you stay and see the truth in his gaze.

“You, the very center of my heart, have grown more than a companion, a cousin, someone with whom I share blood. Nights grow cold without you, I sinned hopelessly because I thought…” Aegon sighs, impatient with himself. “All of this is to say that I love you.”

To his surprise, you cup his face with your hands and lock your lips with his. Right as the sun starts to go down, as the colors of twilight begin to paint the skies, every doubt is solved, every shadow dissipates.

It is a peaceful kiss, perfectly paired even if it starts sloppy. Sunfyre hums happily as if to put a soundtrack to this moment where Aegon Targaryen is genuinely happy for the first time in years.

“I love you, Aegon”, you rest your forehead against his. “Whatever it comes, never forget how endeared you are.”

He cannot argue when you say in such a sweet manner. You convince him that with patience and time, love flourishes.

And you stay like this for a while.

***

Aegon’s eyes are glued in you. Today you are dancing with Princess Helaena by her side at a feast that honours the king’s name day.

“Lady Y/N must be a witch”, muses Aemond out of the blue.

“What for?”, Aegon casts a frown at his younger brother. “Do not dessacralize her name like this, Aemond.”

“Oh. So you are far more smitten than I have assumed”, Aemond raises his eyebrows. “And here I was presuming you’d make her one of your mistresses…considering whom you are betrothed to.”

“Assume what you want. Lady Y/N is not a mistress, no.”

His brother cannot believe his ears. Is this an scandal in the making?

“You cannot be serious. Aegon…”

“What? All I can do is displease others as it seems. They are not content when I do as told. It is time to take my life with my own hands.”

“This will not end well.”

“We shall try and see.”

Aegon stands impatiently and moves to where you are. He knows all eyes are set on him: courtiers hold their breath when you come at his meeting. But what do they know when love is clear in the eyes of the Cupid’s victims?

Helaena, who knew from day one where this would go, smiles to you and excuses herself to Aemond’s side—which only served to leave Alicent astonished, but not entirely displeased since she likes you.

What indeed comes out as a shock is that Aegon has eyes to no other but you.

“We are making it obvious”, you murmur.

“Let it be so. I have no shame in showing my affection for you.”

“Aegon, but you are promised to another”, he sees the pain it comes when acknowledging this fact.

Hands are held and bodies dance when he says calmly:

“Betrothals are often brokered. It happens under uncertainties until marriages are certain.”

You cast him a long wide gaze.

“You cannot be serious..”

Aegon smiles at you in a way few have seen it. The dance comes to an end and he bows before you, lingering a kiss on your wrist without parting gazes.

“I am most serious in my intentions, lady Y/N.”

***

You are occupied with embroidery, lost in your thoughts by the time the queen comes to meet you.

“Y-Your Grace, my aunt”, you dip to a gracious curtsy, blushing as you do so, aware of the reason why she suddenly came to see you.

“No need formalities, child”, she gives you a small smile. “I came to talk to you. I believe you know why.”

As you mutter some answer, Queen Alicent is reminded of herself. You could have been her daughter had she been married off to a nobleman of a house like Tyrell. Not only that but some traits you possess makes her lament how she wasted her youth being a puppet to serve her father’s ambition.

Painful remembrances. And yet… you are tracing a better path than she ever did.

“I am not angry at you, dear child. I should have assumed any of this would result. To be honest, your grandsire was hoping to marry you to Aemond, seeing how similar you are.” Alicent smiles, clearly judging otherwise. “Well, Helaena was closer to Aemond than you in any case.”

“I have nothing to say against lord Aemond, my queen, but it is true that I am closer to lord Aegon.”

“I neglected to consider your sentiments in these matters much as mine were discarded by the time… Oh, never mind. It does little good to dwell in the past”, she now takes your hand. “Aegon surprised me for the first time. He is strongly decided to make you his wife.”

“Oh”, you cannot disguise your surprise. You have to put a hand on your heart as if to prevent you to pass out. “He actually means it!”

Queen Alicent chuckles at your reaction.

“I was shocked too myself, but the king and I are happy to see a change in his comportment. For which on behalf of the crown I thank you and officially welcome you to this disfunctional family, dearest Y/N.”

You laugh quietly. For the first time in a long time your demons are defeated and you taste a safe victory. This is not about comparisons anymore, nor to be gushed by insecurities. Aegon has helped you heal in many, many ways.

***

A few moons later…

“I thought I was not born for happiness”, you confide him right after you landed with Sunfyre.

Since the day Aegon and you were married, the king granted the newly weds a household so you could enjoy your privacy. Ever since this day, Springhall has been your home.

“Why would you say that, Y/Nickname?”, he holds your arm against him as you two walk side by side back inside. “Stealing from me the typical phrasing effect?”

You chuckle quietly.

“No, I mean every word I said. When circumstances forced me to acknowledge my feelings for you, Aegon, I never thought you’d correspond. I felt as if I loved a star too high to grasp.”

It is your way with words that move his heart. It is how these echo the sincerity with your devotion that bends a prideful man like him. Aegon stops the pace and turns you around.

“It pains me that you have gone through difficult months, withdrawn to a heavy pressure of expectations your mother and father laid on you. Even more that I disappointed you with my wayward manners”, he takes your fingers and kisses each for a long time.

Summer breeze blows his hair, and you seem to notice this day he is not dressing dark shade of green, but a light one instead, which matches yours.

“We tend to get lost in our way when we are not properly guided, I’m afraid. But I cannot excuse my past, when I was given the chance to write a better future. Your unending loyalty to me, Y/N… Gods. I could list to all of your virtues that charmed me… In fact, let me do it.”

He keeps his words. Your self esteem has never been higher. A man like him to praise yourself in this manner… Oh, how many skeptical persons would have mocked this possibility?

To be loved like a fair damsel in these stories you read is a reality you’ve thought impossible. You knew your dreams were prompted to be sacrificed by the duties to serve your family, but alas! The impossible is now possible!

“What a joy you give me to be your wife”, you say more tearful than you know.

“You are my heart’s queen, my heart’s gleam, light of my life, my sun and stars. I am devoted to you until the last breath of this body.”

You take his hands and plants a kiss on each, holding his fingers firmly as you look at him with a spark in your gaze.

“My best beloved, I could not find happiness elsewhere but with you. My soul rejoices when yours is close to mine, when day and night I can love you right. Oh, you light my life and lead the way to Seven Paradises!”

“My poetess!”

And saying so, he kisses you under sunlight.

***

• Epilogue.

Prince Aegon’s marriage has not only proven to be a great surprise to many and a true delight to all, but in many ways it was scandalous too.

Specially because he formally abdicated of his rights to the crown to spend his lifetime with you. By giving these to his younger brother, Aemond, well… Ser Otto Hightower might have to adjust his plans. And your sweet demeanor makes it difficult to be blamed for such a decision. Besides, you found in your father a good supporter at court so all is well that ends well.

Before the great series of events that are coming, you give Aegon a number of children to occupy yourselves to. These are:

1. Aegon, named after his father.

2. Rhaena, his twin.

3. Alysanne.

4. Daena.

5. Daeron.

6. Jaehaerys.

7. Maekar.

8. Daenys.

And two miscarriages. What is intriguing is that by the time King Viserys’ death, you and Aegon are found living your lives quietly in Essos.

So when war comes, Aemond starts to question himself.

Where is Aegon? Can he be counted on for this war? Or should he better be left in his domestic affairs?

But these speculations run out of this scope. Besides, it’s not as if Aegon and Y/N Targaryen would pose any danger to Aemond and Helaena’s inheritance… Right?

Whatever it is, some things are better left unsaid. And you and Aegon content yourselves with this very peaceful scenario…

[averageallogene]

Resubmitting because my WiFi weirded out when I was posting.

Jean convinces Diluc to dump you for her, because you are, in her own words, 'Not noble enough'.

With nothing holding you back in Mondstadt, you return to Inazuma to take up your Clan duties.

Less than a year later, you receive Diluc and Jean's wedding invite and you attend with Ayato as your plus-one.

At the reception, Eula instantly recognizes your Clan crest on your obi belt.

Jean proceeds to mock you as she makes her rounds to greet her wedding guest and Eula defends you, stating that your Clan is the overseer of the Tri-Commission *and* the First Clan of Inazuma, out-ranked only by the Raidan Shogun and Yae Miko. And you are its Clan Head.

Diluc ♡⊹˚ Not Enough (SFW)

fem. reader (3rd person) ; angst. cw for jealousy, heartbreak. Implied Ayato x reader.

4k words.

notes. Alright I am back with a bag of piping hot telenovela drama! I had a lot of fun writing this, even if I fear my Jean and my Diluc turned out a little ooc? Oh and Ayato is a petty menace. Well, suffice to say I took some liberty with this one- I hope we can just slide past through it and I’ll get better at their portrayals  eventually <3. Enjoy!✧˖°

The tranquility of Mondstadt, accompanied by the welcomed breezes it brought daily, was enough for anyone to fall in love with the country. The land of the Anemo Archon was blessed with peace, as well as a beauty to behold as its people were one of the most welcoming [F/N] had ever come across. It had been enough to compel her to stay a little longer when she’d begun traveling around Teyvat, with it bringing something more that urged her to remain there.

Diluc Ragnvindr, an otherwise very well known bachelor of Mondstadt, had certainly caught her eye. The feeling seemed to have been mutual, for [F/N]’s appearance and Inazuman style of clothing definitely stood out amongst the usual crowd. It had begun friendly enough, the winery tycoon seeking information regarding the Inazuman palette when it came to alcoholic beverages. Of course, as a businessman Diluc had plans of expanding to other nations, with  or without vision hunt decrees meddling in the middle. During that time, [F/N] had remained in Mondstadt, visibly stressed with the fate of her country. Thankfully, she had a friendly shoulder to rely on on the same wealthy bachelor. It turned out Diluc wasn’t all appearances, his very being burning with a gentleness that was enough to swoon the young woman off her feet. 

[F/N] was far from her family during said time, and exchanging letters was difficult. She’d never been exactly too open when it came to them, yet no one wished to pry. With the borders closed, she had next to no possibility of returning without possibly being detained, regardless of status. War reeked with personal vendettas after all, and to someone of high status as herself, many would indeed covet to take what was hers amidst the chaos. Unbeknownst to her, it had been these early signs of trouble that had helped her in convincing her father of letting her seek out the world whilst she could, sending his only daughter off to the land of the free before she too were to be caged down by duties and unfortunate circumstances.

Homesickness was terrible, but thankfully she had Diluc to aid her. Together they’d spend time together, whether that was in Angel’s Share as the bustling tavern closed its doors for the night, or whenever he offered her to have a tranquil walk through the Dawn Winery. His estate had quickly become one of her favorites, the scenery and the sound of the rustling leaves bringing an inner peace strong enough to temporarily wash away her worries. With the more time they spent together, they found more in common that they had, including dreams, plans for the future, even hobbies. It wouldn’t be difficult to find the pair reading by the fireplace, or even discussing various topics while enjoying a game of chess, hence many murmurs of Diluc’s sweetheart beginning to circle throughout Mondstadt. 

Still, he was a traditional man when it came to such affairs. Diluc was one to take things slowly, yet it was more than noticeable the way he held her hand gently, the way he’d open doors whenever they arrived somewhere, the way his hand would linger on her lower back as they walked through the streets. It wasn’t as though they were official yet, but to [F/N], it was more than apparent she was being courted. And truth be told, her heart couldn’t leap any higher.  Sadly, her expectations would come crashing to the ground, coincidentally just as the climax of the vision hunt decree took place miles away in Inazuma. 

Diluc had grown hesitant, a little distant even. He was a man to remain firm in his beliefs, yet with the right approach and from the right people, even the most determined man could falter. He’d told [F/N] of stories of his childhood, of happier times when his father was around, of times he and Kaeya got along well. Of times he had friends over at the winery, when his mind would only be preoccupied with fantasies he’d construct with his friends at the height of their innocence. [F/N] had listened to him happily, content with the idea of him having a good childhood, of having good friends. Good friends such as Jean Gunnhildr. [F/N] had noticed the way her glance would sparkle at him, yet they were only friends he’d reassured her, and it would’ve definitely seemed as such before it no longer did. The young lady wasn’t ignorant; the way Jean eyed Diluc paralleled the way she did as well, yet she had confidence in the chance she had with him until he’d taken the first step backwards.

He’d been calm, gentle with her upon shooting her down. His heart was murky, he had too many responsibilities. He had a lot to take care of between his tavern and his winery, as well as other responsibilities she wasn’t aware of. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to commit, and he was most sorry for leading her on. [F/N]’s heart broke with the way she was shot down, yet she gracefully smiled still, thanking him for his honesty. Even though she was the one being rejected, the woman placed a friendly hand on his arm, ensuring there were no harsh feelings, as well as wishing him the very best. Wishing that he soon find himself, reassuring that she would always support him. The urge to cry was strong, more so with the way his often gentle gaze shifted away from her. Yet, [F/N] persevered, pushing back any theories her mind crafted as the man she’d grown to love was swept away from her fingers. 

A gut feeling whispered to her that Jean had been the instigator, yet with no concrete proof, [F/N] was left out in the rain as Mondstadt grew less and less picturesque. The winery didn’t feel welcoming anymore, the once bustling streets of the main city were now noisy instead of charming. The mere sight of the crest of the knights of Favonius irked her, for it reminded her of the woman she knew was the reason Diluc had grown distant. In all her years of education back in Inazuma, [F/N] had grown to know when a rival struck through the shadows. She’d grown to realize the subtle signs, yet she’d held on faith for her beloved’s friend. It had proved futile, and now, bitterness replaced the fondness she’d held for the city of freedom. 

[F/N] held a letter that had finally reached her from her home country, bags being packed by the few escorts that had arrived to retrieve her. She’d arranged for them to only move at night, lest she wished to have unwanted attention on her as well as the Inazuman samurai her bedridden father had sent for her. Her duties ripped her out of her wishes to remain in Mondstadt, reality beckoning her back as her dreams were left behind with a broken heart, swept by the breeze. 

Ironically enough, Kaeya, of all people, had been the only one to notice her that night. There was the faint scent of wine on him, yet he was still sober enough to have a coherent speech. He’d waited for her by the city walls, a small expression of regret as he inquired if she really had to go. The relationship between the brothers was brittle to say the least, yet Kaeya would’ve been a fool to deny how Diluc seemed happy with her. How he liked seeing his brother happy. The Cavalry Captain voiced his wish for her to stay, explaining how he enjoyed her company, how Mondstadt did. It stung [F/N], yet with a sad smile, she told him she couldn’t stay even if she wished to. And without explaining further as to why she had to leave, Kaeya suddenly let out with a bitter chuckle.

“Is it because Jean sees you as not noble enough? I can assure you [F/N], no one here really cares for such superficial reasoning.”

It had struck a chord in her, for her suspicions were confirmed. All of this heartbreak had stemmed because [F/N], no matter how hard she tried, would never be one of them, the children of the wind. She was from the land of lightning, and apparently to some, appreciating and learning of their history wasn’t as good enough as being directly related to it. Her hands grasped her coat tightly, and with a curt response of how it was due to other things, she’d thanked Kaeya for everything before leaving the city in the middle of the darkness.

The voyage back to Inazuma had been long, but even more so bittersweet. She’d just arrived in time to say a final goodbye to her father, too sick to even get up from his bed as he held her hand one last time. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes, yet he was too weak to inquire on who was the monster to hurt his beloved daughter. All he could say was that the future of their clan lay now on her hands, the pressure nearly suffocating her. Amidst the conflict with the vision hunt decree, her eldest brother, who’d sided with the rebellion in secret, had been murdered, his drink poisoned. And even as justice had been served, life needed to move on, leaving the seat of Clan Head now to her. 

Days in Inazuma were vinegary. Her homecoming had been filled with heartache, having lost her brother, and soon after her father as well. Days, weeks, months, they all passed in a blur, [F/N] focusing on the heavy task of overseeing the tri-commissions as she donned her clan’s crest with pride. 

Not noble enough, it kept repeating inside her head every day, every time she put her obi on. The young woman hated to admit it, but the pettiness of it all had become her drive, fueling her as she surpassed her father in more aspects than one. In a short amount of time, she’d proved herself as a worthy ruler of her clan, an iron fist masked with elegance and grace as her name grew more and more respected by all the other clans. 

Despite her secluded life filled with responsibility, as well as her still distrusting heart, [F/N] allowed very few people in. She could count her friendly acquaintances with solely one hand, but amongst them were the Kamisato siblings. Businesses aside, they were able to lay down their crests for an afternoon every once in a while, enjoying each other’s company over finely brewed tea as they watched the sunset together, recounting stories to one another as time flew by during such leisure moments.

It had been during one such rare occasion, that [F/N] found herself enjoying tea with Kamisato Ayato, his sister busy with her own set of duties whilst the Commissioner took a much needed break. His trained eye could see how she was tense, eyes lowered as they remained narrowed with a bitterness he’d known all too well. Gently, he’d inquired if all was well, and with a quick glance, [F/N] debated if she should burden the already busy head of the Yashiro Commission with her petty bickering.

“You should know by now that I’m not one to ask things out of courtesy, [F/N].” Ayato had calmly stated, an enigmatic smile dancing on his lips as she took a sip of her tea. “I’m genuinely inquiring about your well-being, for I do in fact care. So please, if something is troubling you, do not hesitate to say.” 

And with a heavy sigh, the woman placed her cup down, before finally coming clean. From her large sleeve she revealed to him a sealed letter, one with a wax stamp of nothing more than the Ragnvindr clan displayed on it.

“It seems one of my acquaintances back in Mondstadt is about to get married, and has decided to invite me to his wedding.” Ayato hid his grin of amusement with the way she spat the word acquaintance with such distaste. It was enough for him to have an inkling of what could’ve transpired during her stay in the land of the Anemo Archon. “I suppose it’s his way of voicing his wish of letting bygones be bygones, but I cannot help but taste the sweet irony of it all.”

“Oh? Has he, perchance, hurt you deeply?” He’d inquired, watching as she lowly nodded her head.

“I was under the assumption he’d been courting me,” [F/N] revealed to her friend, remembering the way her heart clenched upon first reading its contents. The fact he was marrying after such little time apart, and to Jean no less, still filled her broken heart with such indescribable bitterness. “But then… Nevermind. I was needed to return, regardless. One way or another, it would’ve ended in tragedy.”

“My deepest condolences.” Ayato spoke softly, his hand gently resting atop hers before holding it cordially. “Do you intend on skipping the wedding? Just know there is no shame in doing what’s best for you.”

“I’ve thought about it.” She sighed, holding his hand back with a thankful squeeze. “Yet, I can’t bring myself to shut him off entirely either. He was, after all, someone who had helped me a lot during my stay in Mondstadt.”

“Ah yes, the heart is a most complex little thing…” Ayato breathed out, a faint smile on his face as he offered her an understanding glance. “When is it taking place?”

“In about three months.” [F/N] had nearly sulked, still glaring at the letter as if her sheer glance could burn the whole thing. Ayato had simply nodded, before insisting she take a little longer to reflect on what would be best for her.

In truth, Ayato decided to free up his schedule for three months into the future. Not only could he be a little petty when it came to his own allies, he truly did care for the well-being of his friend. In all honesty, perhaps it was best he didn’t know the full details of how she’d been shot down, lest he make an even bigger, yet still elegant, ruckus. In the end, he’d offered his company were she to decide on going to the celebration, and against all odds, [F/N] had accepted. With Ayato by her side, the young woman felt a sudden surge of confidence. Perhaps it was the idea of her being accompanied by a kind, and well accomplished man, that had her feeling that way.

And with her confirmation letter being sent with the intent on bringing a plus one, time was the only thing between [F/N] and her return to Mondstadt. Diluc was surprised she’d accepted, but he couldn’t deny he was happy. In all honesty, he truly wished for them to start over, for her friendship was deeply valued to the man. Jean on the other hand, was a little flabbergasted she’d accepted. To her, it had solely been a courtesy to send an invite, yet she’d be lying if she hadn’t predicted her decline of attending their wedding. Despite the slight disappointment, the Lionfang Knight was already stressed as it was; perhaps it would be best to just ignore it, and prepare for their big day as best as she could. 

The day for their voyage had arrived, and true to his word, Ayato accompanied her on their ship. Everything had been prepared, their duties being fulfilled by others for the duration of their trip. It was a much needed breath of fresh air, a small vacation he’d joked, smiling with eloquence even when he wasn’t one to enjoy large group gatherings. He’d insisted that he and [F/N] both dress in their finest clothing, for they were representing their Clans on foreign lands, and by extension, representing Her Excellency as well. Their crests displayed proudly on their clothing, made of the finest silks and brightest tones, arms linking together as [F/N] held her fan to her lips as they finally disembarked at the docks. 

Ayato had surely made a statement with the entire entourage he’d organized for the two of them, it almost seemed as though he indeed knew of what had been the reason given for their breakup. Then again, [F/N] thought, perhaps he did know. Ayato was a man of many means after all, who was to say he hadn’t read her bitterness like an open book? The way [F/N] looked at him smiling in that knowing way of his didn’t help her case, either… Well, it was too late to go back, anyway.

The way they’d arrived on Mondstadt had certainly caused an uproar, citizens watching in curiosity as the samurai escorted them to the hotel where they would stay until the day of the festivities. Most of the Knights of Favonius were busy as per usual, away from their arrival save for the guards stationed at the city gates who had warmly welcomed them upon confirming their identities and the purpose of their visit. Gossip was quick to follow, yet Ayato paid no mind, calmly chatting away with [F/N] as they were led to their rooms.

News of wealthy guests from the east reached the couple’s ears, yet neither Diluc nor Jean paid much mind. After all, Diluc had many wealthy acquaintances, most of them stemming from his businesses within the wine industry. All he cared for was to ensure all their confirmed guests had indeed arrived, including [F/N]. And upon being told she had in fact, he only nodded his head, not inquiring any further. Him and his bride were much too busy making the final preparations after all, and unbeknownst to him, Kaeya only watched in the background, an amused grin on his face as he patiently waited for the big show.

The bells rang with vigor on the big day, [F/N] jolting inside her room as she wasn’t exactly used to the way their Church would announce anything so loudly. Ayato had already finished preparing, smiling her way before offering his help in adjusting her obi. 

“You look positively beautiful.” He’d stated in a matter-of-fact tone, watching as she smiled at him with an honest, thankful gleam. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” She had sighed, nodding her head as she inwardly psyched herself up to go forth with the day. And without much issue, the pair left their hotel and made haste for the sight of the ceremony. 

Amidst the sea of guests, their presence had gone mostly unnoticed. It was best as such, [F/N] gazing ahead as she watched the man who she’d once thought would be the one marry another woman. Her heart still clenched slightly at the reality, yet Ayato’s presence helped her in grounding herself as she took a deeper breath. Her arm remained around his, admiring how beautiful they looked, how happy they gazed at one another. Even if Jean forever held a deep stain in her eyes, she couldn’t deny how radiant and gorgeous she looked in her wedding gown. The warm glow of the church veiled around them in a romantic manner, the union finally being tied as the main ceremony came to a close. For the first time in a while, [F/N] found herself smiling at the sight of Diluc with another. Perhaps, she thought, she would eventually get through this. Even if it still hurt, even if she still thought back on how she hadn’t been enough. 

Customs between Mondstadt’s weddings and Inazuma’s weddings differed, yet she and Ayato found themselves easily following along as everyone moved on to the reception. It was during this time that the guests began conversing more freely with one another, finally having a look around as they noted who had come to support the happy couple, who had come with whom. It was during this time that [F/N] could feel eyes on her, glances of surprise to herself and her partner being shared as she commented on how the food was delightful with Ayato. 

“Is that… [F/N]?” Eula had commented with Kaeya, who had nodded his head with an amused grin on his face. Despite the elaborate way she dressed when in comparison with the way she did when she had stayed in Mondstadt, nothing could escape her eye as a noble herself. “She looks radiant. And the man beside her…”

[F/N]’s voice could be heard not far, Ayato relishing in the way his comment had brought a laugh out of her. He patted himself on his back for having gotten the willpower to deal with such a packed event, for the way his friend seemed more relaxed had been more than worth it in his eyes. They kept on chatting together, a select few female acquaintances of [F/N]’s joining them as they soon found more company to converse with.

“[F/N]! It’s been so long… How have you been?” 

“You look amazing, [F/N]! I heard you’ve returned to Inazuma suddenly, is everything alright?”

“Who’s your friend there, [F/N]?” Followed with a knowing wink, causing the woman to blush before denying their accusations any further. 

Despite everything, the attention directed to a corner of their reception definitely wasn’t unnoticed by the happy couple, more so by the bride as her violet eyes gazed around. Jean found herself surprised upon landing her eyes on [F/N]’s face, recognizing her rather quickly despite the intricate ornaments she wore on her hair and the delicate makeup. She looked stunning, she thought, before stopping herself and clearing her throat. 

Her wandering gaze hadn’t gone unnoticed by Diluc, whose eyes followed before landing on [F/N] as well. It took him a moment to register who it was, and when it did, his shifting expression caused a stir of emotions deep within his bride.

“[F/N]?...” He’d muttered, Jean squeezing his hand lightly to return his attention to her.

“Come Diluc, we have to thank everyone for coming.” She’d hastily led him to the table where the rest of the Knights dined, all raising glasses of champagne and wine as the couple approached them. 

“Ah, Diluc, Jean! The ceremony was wonderful,” Lisa had smiled their way, a giggle following. “I nearly teared up at the vows. Goodness, weddings always make me so emotional.”

“The food is also delectable.” Kaeya grinned, his glass rising slightly above the others as he gave his brother a nod. “Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Congratulations! May your years be blessed with happiness and good fortune!” Amber smiled brightly.

“Yes, congratulations.” Eula complemented, smiling softly as Diluc held Jean close.

“Thank you everyone for coming. It is an honor to share such an important day with you all.” Diluc said with the utmost sincerity, smiling softly as Jean rested her hand on his chest.

“It’s a great pleasure.” Eula’s gaze narrowed as she could sense an unnecessary comment bubbling within Kaeya’s chest. The way he grinned spelled trouble, and just as she predicted so, the man swirled his glass of wine before he continued. “Of course, we wouldn’t miss your wedding for nothing! But perhaps it’s to those who’ve come from the furthest you should extend your greatest gratitudes.”

“Of course, we intend on thanking everyone as we go around every table.” Jean huffed with a small smile, still not following where he was headed. She rested a hand on her hip as she raised an eyebrow softly, Diluc too eyeing his brother as if expecting more.

“Oh, that’s great! I was beginning to think you were rounding around [F/N]’s table on purpose. But then again, you must still be thinking about how to properly thank her, no?”

“Kaeya!” Amber sighed, shaking her head as the mood slightly shifted around the table. The man simply shrugged, sipping on his wine before sighing with content over the wonderful undertones, as he explained. 

“Ah, Diluc! Congratulations, you lucky bastard!” Varka’s voice roared across the reception hall, hands plopping down on his shoulders as he laughed loudly. Diluc could only remain awkward as he quietly thanked him, the Grand Master practically whisking him away as he further congratulated him and gave him lessons on how to ensure his wife’s happiness.

“Honestly, I was surprised to know she’d be coming.” Jean watched her husband not stray too far, finally letting out a small sigh and folding her arms across her chest. “I’m still not quite sure how we’re going to address this, as her presence seems… Rather ill-intended.”

“Oh?” Kaeya’s gaze turned to her from the corner of his eyes, finding her choice of words amusing as he let her ramble on. 

“Diluc had voiced his wish of inviting her, and thinking it was just a formality I decided to agree with it. But for her to actually accept and show up seems bitter.” It was clear the stress was racing to her head, the table listening awkwardly as she rambled on. “While I understand it still must hurt given the circumstances, we would’ve hoped she would’ve let bygones be bygones. I simply find her actions to lack in-”

“Nobility?” Eula scoffed quietly, eyebrow raising quietly before watching Jean hesitate if she agreed with her or not. It was her turn to cross her arms, speaking directly to her. “I find it quite the opposite. I think that accepting and coming by to show her support shows just how noble she is. After all, for the head of her clan to not show up would’ve been scandalous. Do you know what kind of rumors that would start up, Jean?”

“Wait- Did you just say head of her clan?” Amber repeated, her eyes widening as Eula nodded her head.

“Yes. Haven’t you all realized? Look, notice [F/N]’s obi.” The group found themselves rather indiscreetly gazing towards [F/N]’s table, the crest displayed with pride as she enjoyed Ayato’s company. “It’s the crest of the first clan of Inazuma, otherwise known as the overseer of the Tri-Commissions of the nation. Basically, it’s the oldest still standing clan of the nation, only surpassed by the Archon herself and their Guji.” 

The table slowly digested the information, Eula proving yet again just how well educated she was not only to what concerned Mondstadt, but aristocracy of other nations as well. Her legs remained crossed as she finished explaining herself, leg bouncing lightly as she battled with herself to remain cordial despite not having quite liked her friend’s statement. Even if Jean was overly stressed, or their situation with [F/N] hadn’t been ideal, it had most definitely been an unnecessary comment. 

“Besides, the man next to her is none other than the head of the Yashiro Commission. Their Commission has many duties, including overseeing ceremonies and rituals that do include weddings. So, her choice of companion can most definitely be seen as yet another layer to her virtuous acceptance of your invitation.”

Kaeya found himself grinning unabashedly at the way Jean glanced away, clearly embarrassed with the outcome of the situation. She still held her arms crossed around her chest in a defensive manner, the Cavalry Captain thinking it would just be best if she left to avoid any further hits to her pride. For the first time in a while, he found himself agreeing fully with Eula, letting her take the reins of the situation as Jean’s ego was put in place. Sure, Kaeya liked Jean. Yet still, he couldn’t deny he thought [F/N] would’ve been a better match for Diluc. Call him petty, but he was enjoying the situation. 

“Sorry about that,” Diluc sighed as he returned to their side, his hand resting on Jean’s waist as he gazed around the table. “Erhm, everything alright? You all look, how should I put it…”

“Nothing to worry about.” His brother grinned, waving his hand dismissively as everyone began eating their food. “You go and thank everyone for coming by, yeah? Enjoy yourselves, after all it’s your wedding day!”

Despite the confusion with his sudden upbeat tone, Diluc simply nodded, leading his bride to continue on going through table to table. Needless to say, now that it was he who took the lead, they soon found themselves at [F/N]’s table, the man surprised to see her so intricately dressed and in the presence of someone of such stature.

Nonetheless, and despite the sudden lump of awkwardness that lodged itself in his throat, Diluc took his time to properly thank them for coming, [F/N] simply gazing at them and replying it was their pleasure. Ayato was the one to take charge in their response, smiling cordially as he basked in the way his bride seemed to avert her gaze from them. If looks could diminish someone’s presence, Jean would’ve been long gone, reduced to atoms. And Ayato would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it, holding [F/N]’s hand with such delicacy as if they were more than friends.

And as they left, he carefully leaned over her ear, watching as she met him halfway to hear what he had to say.

“Well, that was amusing. Perhaps next year we should invite them to our wedding. A fun retaliation, no?”

“W-What?”

[bloodlust-1]

The Consort ₊⁺જ⁀➴

NSWF | Explicit 18+ | Angst | Blood | Ascended Astarion | Spawn Tav | Dark | Smut | Trauma | Stockholm Syndrome | Violence

Ascended Astarion x fem Tav

Chapter: 1 | The Consort

Summary: In a tumultuous tale of love, power, and betrayal, Tav finds herself entangled in a complex relationship with Astarion, a heartless vampire lord who will stop at nothing to maintain control over his newfound spawn. As Tav witnesses Astarion’s transformation and descent into darkness, their love is put to the ultimate test amidst love triangles, drama, and the pursuit of world domination. Redemption seems like an elusive goal while Tav grapples with the realization of who her lover has truly become.

UPDATED EVERY MONDAY.

Notes: Hi, hi ! New series cause Astarion is heavy on my mind. I’ve been writing this on the low so I’m posting the 1st two chapters today so enjoy :*

AO3 LINK | MASTER LIST

Lovely photo by @aristenfromwarsaw

Tav sat against the window of a palace, her eyes fixed on the bustling street below. She hummed a tune so sweet to herself, the laughter of children playing echoed through the glass, and she hugged herself in this peaceful solitude.

Tav's fingers grazed softly over the bite marks that scarred her skin.

Astarion.

Her lover, her home, and ultimately Tav's only reason why she couldn't step foot in the sun any longer.

Being Astarion's spawn changed Tav's life instantly, and everything felt so - silent.

This was her love, and she'd almost do anything for him, including going threw the ascension.

And because of this, Astarion was always gone during the day, and it was so unfair.

Memories flooded her mind as she gazed at the sunlight streaming in. She remembered the warmth of the sun on her skin, the way it kissed her cheeks.

A ray of sunlight pierced through the window, illuminating a small patch of floor near Tav.

Sunlight.

What it would feel like to just...touch it. Would it really hurt? Maybe Tav could be the exception some how? Either way, the curiosity inside Tav chewed at her better judgment.

Tav bit down on her lower lip, whispering, "Just a - touch..."

With a hiss, the beam sizzled her skin, leaving behind a faint burn that quickly healed before her eyes.

“Ouch,” Tav winced and pulled back her hand with glossy eyes.

She watched as the mark faded away, leaving no trace of burns. That's it, no more daylight: this was Tav's sacrifice to Astarion.

As she leaned back against the window, Tav’s gaze lingered on the street below once more. She sighed and played with her hair.

They were so carefree and happy. She wished she could be like them again. Changing into animal form and feeling the warm grass beneath her feet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Tav couldn’t not let her vampirism control her. She would find a way to live a normal life again.

Especially with Astarion at her side.

Astarion burst through the door, shouting, "Darling, I've got great news! I- " He stopped mid-sentence, his words trailed off as he noticed Tav suddenly jump away from the window.

She nervously smiled and waved at him, with a hint of unease. “Hi, Star… How was your morning?”

Astarion’s gaze lingered on Tav’s face and then shifted to her reddened hand. Whatta trouble maker. He shook his head and sighed annoyed while grabbing her hand, forcing it for closer inspection. “Were you playing with the light again, dearest?”

Tav murmured slightly, feeling a pang of shame knowing how much Astarion hated when Tav tested her new form.

It was dangerous and foolish of her to push limits with her life. Astarion claimed she was better than before and that she should accept his gift to her.

“Must you continue to do this to yourself? Remember, you’re better now. I made you this way; learn to love it, my consort,” he rubbed his thumb over Tav's knuckles. Despite his stern words, a soft smile graced his lips as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Tav’s forehead.

"I just can't help it." Tav turned her head to the window, "It still doesn't feel real." She looked back at Astarion with confusion etched deeply in her furrowed brows, "It's like I don't believe it's real until I get myself hurt."

Astarion stared at her, confused and maybe even a little weirded out. "Riiight - well, please don't take it too far, I wouldn't want you to crisp into a chip right in front of my eyes." He grabbed Tav by the waist and gave her hugs and squishes.

Tav chuckled against his hold and bombard of kisses.

“And I trust you haven’t been practicing your wild forms in the house, dear?” He glared down at Tav with a sternness again.

Astarion did not accept animals in the house, not even for poor Druid Tav.

Tav smiled. “Noo…”

Lie.

Astarion's eyes glared down at her longer than usual. "Mhm. Do you want to try that again, Tav?"

She averted her eyes from his, “If I could just get some time to practice…I almost perfected my panther form!” Her eyes lit up with determination. If only she could just show him. It was quite impressive.

But no, shut down.

He scuffed with a slight squeeze of her body, “There will be no need for a panther form. I carry all this power and it’s all you need to depend on. Besides, I found animal fur on the carpet the other day.”

Oh, right.

Tav half-giggled against Astarion’s strength and pushed away with a smug look on her face, "Soo, what's the good news?"

"Ah, yes." He fixed himself before speaking while putting some distance between them, "I've been invited to Waterdeep, a party. I want to make connections with the nobles near us. I think it's a good opportunity to sniff out whatever advantages present themselves to us. Gossip and have fun of course."

Tav's eyes lit up and she clasped her hands together, "A ball?!" She took in a sharp breath, "It's been deathly boring here, I would love to get out and see new faces."

Being a spawn could be so sheltering sometimes, especially when Astarion kept her on such a tight leash. Not that she minded his attention, that was the plus.

Astarion rolled his eyes, "Of course, you're coming." He popped out a hip and with a smirk, "You are my lovely consort after all." He leaned over and brushed away a strand of Tav's hair, fixing it perfectly in place, "And you will put all those Waterdeep prissy noble-women to shame."

Finally, something to look forward to.

"You think so?" Tav bit down on her lower lip, flashing him playful eyes. Tav stepped closer to Astarion again, resting her hand on his chest and sliding his down to his stomach gracefully.

Astarion mirrored Tav's gesture and his fingers grazed over her hips, holding a hand full of her love handles, "I don't think. I know."

She smiled at his touch, and a sudden yawn escaped Tav's lips.

Astarion's ears perked up, "Tired are we?"

She rubbed her eyes and nodded softly, "Yeah...I'm still getting used to this whole nocturnal schedule." Tav tilted her head, "But I wanted to see you before I went to bed."

With one swipe, Astarion scooped Tav into his arms, "You'll see me for eternity." His crimson eyes fell on Tav as he craddled her in his arms, "My spawn."

Her stomach knotted. Did she really like being a spawn? Well...No. But she would definitely try to for Astarion. They were in this for life. Tav tries to find life's simple pleasures, but it's hard leaving a life she once had.

Regardless, she'd never admit it to Astarion. Tav didn't want him to think she was regretful or doubtful. Even if she felt like it deep down. He mustn't know. Tav loves Astarion. After all, he said he wanted this power to protect them.

Astarion held Tav bridal style and brought her into their bedroom. The king-sized bed was draped in red silk fabric, and he poured her onto the mattress like the rarest of jewels.

And to her surprise, Astarion crawled into the bed next to her, holding her body tight against his. He nuzzled against her neck, his breath warm against her skin, and it sent shivers down her spine.

He was unusually cuddly than most days.

"Are you okay?" Tav spoke out. This wasn't normal behavior, not after he ascended at least.

"Nothing." His eyes were cold and emotionless but the squeeze in his embrace contradicted that. "I'll stay until you fall asleep." He softly kissed the tips of her ears.

Oh...how sweet.

Tav smiled, her heart aflutter as she nestled into the soft pillows. Astarion held close and watched over Tav as her eyelashes fluttered closed.

She was so emotionally fragile lately, especially with her little accidents. It worried him when he wasn't home more than he'd ever tell her.

No, don't feel bad. She's made her choice.

Astarion's inner thoughts battled within himself. Mostly because Tav consumed his mind and thoughts, even when trying to engage in any political social climbing. Part of him despised how weak he was for her.

But for now...This feels nice.

Next part here

You made it to the end! Mwuah.

Also so sorry if this series triggers anyone

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

[hearts4hughes]

ECHOES OF LOVE | MARK ESTAPA

mark estapa x fem!reader

summary: in which reader confesses her love for her best friend— oops.

warnings: angst w/ happy ending, reader and mark both being blinded by love, nothing else!!

author note: my first writing after what feels like forever. oh my goddddd!! i have months of ideas and thoughts for more writings on the way. i haven’t done first person writing in forever, but i honestly love it!!

The University of Michigan had been my dream school since freshman orientation; Umich felt made for me. Yet, it wasn’t the only thing capturing my heart during those college years. Environmental Science class introduced me to Mark, and it wasn’t just about the subject matter. Mark, a walking ray of sunshine, entered a room like a force of nature, captivating everyone with his vibrant energy. Engaging conversations and lively class discussions made Mark the embodiment of an unforgettable college experience. It only took him two classes to claim the seat next to me, uninvited but eventually charming his way into my world.

Amidst my journey at Umich and with Mark, an opportunity to study abroad in Italy emerged. Excitement coursed through my veins, but it was tinged with a bittersweet undercurrent. Studying abroad meant a semester without seeing Mark, and my heart ached at the realization. The palpable truth lingered—I had feelings for him.

The day before leaving for Italy was spent entirely with Mark. We recounted memories, gossiped, and held each other. An emotional undercurrent hinted at something more than platonic love. In a moment of uncertainty and sadness, I confessed my love for Mark. The silence that followed my confession echoed in my ears as he stared at me with wide eyes. I had read the situation wrong, and tears brimmed in my eyes as I stormed out of his dorm.

The next morning, I vowed to leave the hurt and agony in Michigan and treat Italy as a fresh start. Italy became a sanctuary, a place where I could do as I pleased without worrying about the boy who rejected my love proposal. Now, sitting in the small, claustrophobic plane, dread overshadowed my return to the real world. Thoughts of making a scene to ground the plane lingered, as four months of studying abroad in Italy felt like pure bliss—warm weather, Italian boys, and zero drama. However, the sweet sounds of Taylor Swift couldn’t coax the cacophony of my racing thoughts. How to make a 12-hour flight even longer?

MARK: Hope Italy treated you well. We need to talk.

My hands trembled as I reread the message, the digital words carrying a weight that mirrored the turbulence within me. The plane had landed mere minutes ago, and as much as I dreaded my return to Michigan, a strange sense of comfort enveloped me the moment I stepped off the aircraft. As I navigated through the airport’s hustle, Mark’s message echoed in my mind, creating a symphony of worry and anticipation.

The journey from the airport to my dorm was a blur, the cityscape outside the window a mere backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. The prospect of facing Mark, unresolved emotions lingering like a specter, fueled a mixture of anxiety and a glimmer of hope.

He wants to let me know how he feels. Is that good or bad? What if he found someone else? What if he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if… I mentally stop myself from spiraling down that certain rabbit hole.

With a heavy heart, I approached my dorm building. The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit room adorned with posters and decorations. The message from Mark burned brightly on my phone, demanding acknowledgment. The empty bed next to mine indicated my roommate Miley’s absence. As much as I missed her, part of me was relieved to be alone. I read the note on my desk written in her neat handwriting. She wouldn’t be home for the rest of the night. Good.

MARK: Where are you? We need to talk.

The urgency in his words heightened the tension, and I hesitated, almost responding, but I couldn't muster up the courage to press send.

MARK: Y/N, if you're trying to ghost me, at least turn your read receipts off.

Shit. I silently cursed the advanced technology of iPhones.

Y/N: What do you want, Mark?

MARK: To talk, we need to talk.

Y/N: Oh, now you want to talk. Seems convenient.

MARK: I'm serious, Y/N.

I scoffed as I read his final text message. Who's he to say when I need to talk to him? I could ignore him for the rest of my life, and it wouldn't even bother me—scratch that; I'd miss him more and more every day.

Y/N: Fine. Let's meet at Logan’s around 7:00.

Y/N: Seriously, Mark, don't make me waste my time.

~

I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease that settled in my stomach. Logan’s, the pizza place around the corner, wasn’t fancy, but it held a certain charm. Memories of late-night pizza runs with Mark flooded my mind.

I grab my phone, checking the time for the fifth time in ten minutes. Everything feels wrong, from the headache-inducing bright lights to the fact that Mark is ten minutes late. The air inside Logan’s is thick with anticipation, and I can’t escape the nagging thoughts that something significant is about to happen.

The door chimes as Mark finally enters, a disheveled look on his face. I try to read his expression, but his eyes remain elusive. We exchange awkward greetings, and the atmosphere tightens with every passing second.

“Hi,” Mark says, gesturing to an empty booth. The weight of his words hangs in the air as I comply. The vinyl seats are cold against my skin, and the tension in the room is palpable.

Mark fidgets with his hands, avoiding eye contact. I want to break the silence, to demand answers, but fear keeps me silent. Finally, he takes a deep breath, meeting my gaze.

“I didn’t handle your confession well,” he admits, his voice strained. “I panicked, and I’m sorry.”

His words hang in the air, and my heart races with a mix of relief and frustration. The apology doesn’t erase the hurt, but it opens a door to understanding.

“Mark, I know what I did was stupid. I ruined a perfectly fine friendship for my selfish feelings,” I sighed, shame laced my words.

“Y/N,”

“No, Mark,” I interrupted. “You don’t need to pity me, I get it.”

“Wait, let me finish.” He spoke, reaching over and grabbing my hands in his. “Y/N, I didn’t handle what you said well because I was scared. I was scared because I’ve never felt so much for a person.” He huffs, eyes filled with sincerity and care. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you. I can’t even put into words how you make me feel. These four months without you have been pure torture. Ask any of the boys, I’ve been a complete and utter mess.”

His admission hangs in the air, and I feel a whirlwind of emotions—shock, joy, and a lingering sense of pain. The rollercoaster of feelings leaves me momentarily speechless.

“Mark, why didn’t you say something before I left for Italy?” I finally manage to utter, my voice a mix of vulnerability and frustration.

“I was scared too, Y/N. Scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way or that it would ruin our friendship,” Mark explains, his gaze unwavering. “But the truth is, I can’t imagine my life without you. I couldn’t let this continue without being honest about my feelings.”

“Mark, I… I don’t know what to say,” I admit, still processing the whirlwind of emotions. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N/N,” he brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. “I’m stuck with you forever, whether you like it or not.”

I giggled, tears of joy spilling over and flooding my face. “I like that idea.”

[agentstarkid]

AN ETERNAL LOVE BULLSHIT ✦ DR3

Based on this ask

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 3.7K words (I tried to keep it short, oops)

✦ TRACK LIMITS: angst, self-doubt, crying, feelings of not being enough, heartbreak.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: I've had this on my drafts, ruminating on it for days, soooo I hope you guys like it. Vitto, Iza and Chloe are the real MVPs of this chapter! Queens uplifting another Queen 💅🏽💖 This was fun to write! Thank you so much nonnie for this idea! ilysm <3 p.s. can y'all spot the song references? 👀

This is set during Saudade. | Everything between "—" and italized are flashbacks.

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

The end of April in California had days of clear skies, endless blue, and a gentle breeze carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The sun shone warmly, casting a golden glow over everything it touched, yet the cheerful weather felt almost mocking to her current state.

Her guitar lay across her lap, repurposed as a makeshift table for the notebook where she hastily scribbled words, each one an attempt to capture the storm of emotions swirling within her. The grass beneath her was cool and grounding, but it did little to tether her to the present. Every line she wrote was a desperate attempt to process the pain, to make sense of the abrupt void he had left behind. 

Life moved on around her with an indifferent rhythm, but her mind was still stuck replaying the scenes in a Bahraini hotel room on a fateful Friday morning in March. She was stuck, a relic in a world that had already moved on, trapped in the shadow of what once was. The ache in her heart was a constant companion, a reminder that she was still right where he left her, struggling to find a way back to herself.

Her pen moved frantically across the pages, as if the act of writing could somehow release the torment inside her. But each word, each lyric, only seemed to root her more firmly in the past. The guitar beneath her fingers, once a source of joy and creativity, now felt like a conduit for her sorrow. She was lost in her own words, hoping that somewhere in the tangled mess of emotions, she might find a way to heal.

But amidst the ache, she found solace in the unwavering support of her friends. 

Since landing in Los Angeles, her friends had been her rock. When days of isolation had left her feeling like a shell of herself, Vitto and Andrew had intervened, offering her refuge in their home outside the city. Their house, tucked away from the relentless glare of cameras and the whirlwind of drama, had become a sanctuary. The quiet of their surroundings was a balm for her frayed nerves.

Baby Iza, their little bundle of joy, at almost 1 year old, was a constant source of comfort. The child's tiny hands and infectious giggles seemed to have an almost magical ability to lift her spirits. It was as if Izabele could sense her sadness and made it her mission to shower her with love and affection. 

With the sun casting gentle rays through the window, the child would toddle into the room with her tiny feet pattering softly on the floor. Her face, a picture of innocent determination, was often lit up by a bright smile. She would clutch a small toy in her chubby hands—a plush animal or a colorful block—and make a beeline for her godmother, as if to say, “Here, play with me. Everything will be okay.”

Sitting down beside her, Iza would arrange her toys with meticulous care, her eyes occasionally glancing up to gauge her mood. They would sit together in quiet companionship, the simple act of play bringing a semblance of peace.

As the night fell and the room grew dim, she would make her way to her aunt's side once more, but this time with a special gesture. She would carry one of her favorite teddy bears, its soft fur worn from countless hugs—she recognized it as the one that Daniel had gifted Iza when she was born. 

Her sleepy eyes would barely stay open, and the pacifier bobbing gently in her mouth gave her a serene, dreamlike appearance. She would approach her aunt with the bear in tow, offering it with the sincerity only a child can muster. The gesture, simple yet profound, was Iza’s way of offering comfort and reassurance. The irony wasn’t lost on her, as the comfort offered by the bear was tied to the person who had broken her heart.

Despite the tangled emotions that the bear represented, she’d accept the gesture with a quiet grace. Each night, she would clutch the teddy bear tightly in her arms as she lay in bed, she would close her eyes and allow the bear’s presence to soothe her. It was a small, ironic comfort, a connection to a past she was still grappling with. She never spoke of it to anyone, keeping this bittersweet detail to herself. 

Vitto and Andrew's kindness, along with Baby Iza’s innocent charm, and Fio and Danna’s constant facetime calls—and impromptu visits—, were her anchors, grounding her in a time of turbulence.

Rumors had started circulating about Daniel moving on with Heidi, emerging just two weeks after their breakup. As she heard whispers and saw the headlines, she felt a deep internal conflict. One part of her mind tried to dismiss the rumors, knowing all too well how the business thrived on gossip and sensationalism. She had been in this world long enough to recognize how quickly false narratives could spread and how little they sometimes reflected the truth.

Yet, another part of her, the part that had been wounded by every argument they’d ever had about their future, couldn’t silence the inner voice that screamed she was a fool. It was the same voice that had questioned every promise, every declaration of eternal love Daniel had made. How could someone profess to love her, to call her the love of their life—a million times—, to talk about rings and cradles, and then, almost as soon as it was over, move on to someone new?

But a single text changed her entire world.

The moment she received confirmation from Chloe that the rumors were true, a wave of crushing disappointment and pain washed over her. It felt as if the ground beneath her had given way, leaving her in a freefall of disbelief and heartache. The confirmation struck her like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving her feeling hollow inside.

The betrayal was sharper than she could have ever imagined. Daniel, the person she had known better than herself, had indeed moved on after only two weeks. The image she had clung to, the person she had given the benefit of the doubt, shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. How could someone who had claimed to love her so deeply and had spoken of a future together move on so swiftly? The realization was a bitter, choking pill to swallow.

Her heart ached with a profound sense of loss, not just of the relationship but of the person she thought Daniel was. The trust she had placed in him, the dreams they had shared, all felt like a cruel joke. She felt duped, as if she had been sold a "get-love-quick" scheme by someone who never intended to follow through on his promises. The sense of being deceived cut deeply, leaving a wound that seemed impossible to heal.

She sat there, gripping her pen tightly, her mind swirling with the betrayal she felt so deeply. Without a moment’s pause, her pen began to race across the pages of her notebook, pouring out the raw, unfiltered emotions she could no longer contain. The lyrics flowed from her as if they were the only way to make sense of the chaos within:

And ain't it funny

How you ran to her the second that we called it quits? 

And ain't it funny how you said you were friends? 

Now it sure as hell don't look like it 

You betrayed me 

And I know that you'll never feel sorry 

For the way I hurt, yeah 

You'd talk to her 

When we were together 

Loved you at your worst 

But that didn't matter 

It took you two weeks 

To go off and date her 

Guess you didn't cheat 

But you're still a traitor

With each line, she felt the searing pain of his betrayal more acutely. How could he have moved on so quickly? The words “two weeks” echoed in her mind like a relentless drumbeat, reminding her of how little time it had taken for him to replace her. The sense of being betrayed, of having her trust shattered, was almost unbearable. She had loved him at his worst, given him everything, and yet it had taken him mere days to discard their love and move on to someone new.

The realization that she was right, that he had been talking to her while they were still together added salt to the wound. It made every moment they had shared feel tainted, every promise he had made feel like a lie. The anger and hurt intertwined, fueling the lyrics that poured out of her. He might not have cheated in the traditional sense, but the emotional betrayal was just as devastating, if not more so. To her, he was a traitor, someone who had violated the sacred trust of their relationship.

The pen in her hand paused for the first time in days, the words unable to flow as freely as before. The grief was too raw, too overwhelming to articulate. She felt an intense, suffocating sadness, mixed with anger and a sense of foolishness for believing in him. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and her chest tightened with the weight of unspoken emotions.

Her phone storage has been filled with voice notes for the past weeks, but the number has elevated exponentially since the news had hit. Her chat with her producer has been overflowing with “What do you think of this?”, demos shared between them back and forth. 

For moments, she was consumed by raw anger, her pen becoming a weapon as she furiously wrote songs that painted him as the villain he had become in her eyes. She felt the fierce determination to make him know—and if his treacherous heart allowed, to feel—her pain.

Each line dripped with venom and sorrow, a raw portrayal of the anguish he had inflicted upon her. The thought of him reading her words and realizing the depth of her suffering provided a fleeting sense of power and justice.

But after the anger came a deep, suffocating depression. The reality of his betrayal settled over her like a heavy, oppressive fog. Each day felt like a battle to simply get out of bed, and her once vibrant spirit seemed to wither under the weight of her grief. She found herself crying at the smallest things, her emotions a raw, open wound that refused to heal.

—

One night Vitto found her in bed, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes red and swollen, looking every bit as miserable as she felt inside. Without a word, Vitto quickly gathered her in her arms, holding her tightly as the heart-shattering sobs began anew. The weight of her friend’s pain pressed heavily on Vitto’s heart, but she held her close, whispering kind and reassuring words, trying to contain the pieces of her shattered glass heart.

In a voice barely above a whisper, filled with desperation and heartbreak, she asked the questions that had been gnawing at her soul. “Why can't it be me for once, Vitto? Why can't someone choose me?” Her voice cracked with the weight of the pain she felt. “Is it so hard to love me? What's so wrong with me that no one has the will to stay?”

Vitto's heart ached at the sight of her friend so broken, so lost in her despair. She tightened her hold, pulling her closer as if she could shield her from the cruel thoughts that plagued her mind. “There's nothing wrong with you,” Vitto whispered back, her voice gentle but firm. “You are so easy to love, fofinha, and anyone who doesn't see that is a fool.” She prayed that her friend would see the truth in her words. “You deserve someone who sees you for the amazing person you are and who will never let you go.”

Vitto rocked her gently, smoothing her hair and murmuring softly. “You’re strong,” she whispered. “Stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, one step at a time. You have us, and we’re not going anywhere.”

That night, after the tears had subsided, she found herself sitting on the windowsill, staring out into the vast, indifferent sky. The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest as she gazed at the stars, feeling more alone than ever. 

In the quiet darkness, she whispered her desperate plea to any entity that might be listening. She wasn’t asking for fame or fortune, but for something much simpler and infinitely more precious: love. A love that wasn’t for the artist she became on stage or the persona she put on for the cameras, but for her—the real her, with all her flaws, insecurities, and hidden depths.

She was on her knees, metaphorically, begging for someone to change her fate, to alter the prophecy that seemed to doom her to be always left behind. Why couldn’t someone love her as fiercely as she loved them—or even harder?. 

The question lingered in the air, a painful echo of her deepest fears. She longed for someone who would choose her, who wouldn’t toss her aside once the initial novelty wore off and someone else, shiny and new, came along.

The night air was cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the burning ache inside her. She closed her eyes, letting the silent tears fall, each one a small release of the pain she carried. 

She wasn’t asking for much, just someone who would love her, not for what she represented, but for who she truly was. Someone who would see her, really see her, and still choose to stay. The silence of the night offered no answers, but she hoped—prayed—that somewhere, someone would hear her and bring her the love she so desperately craved. The stars offered no answers, but in the quiet of the night, she found a sliver of solace in the act of voicing her deepest wish.

—

The phone rang late in the evening, its sound piercing the quiet of the room. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at the screen. Chloe's name flashed across it, and a part of her almost didn’t want to pick up. But Chloe had been there for her in ways she hadn’t expected, turning from an acquaintance into one of her closest friends. With a deep breath, she answered.

“Hey,” she said softly, trying to mask the exhaustion in her voice.

“Hey, you,” Chloe replied, her tone gentle, almost cautious. “I just wanted to check in on you. How are you holding up?”

There was a brief silence, the kind that stretches out when you’re trying to find the right words to explain a pain that feels impossible to describe. “I’m… surviving, I guess. It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice wavering.

Chloe sighed on the other end, a mix of empathy and frustration evident in her breath. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. And I hate that I had to be the one to confirm it. You deserve so much better.” 

Her heart ached at the sincerity in Chloe’s words. “I don’t even know what hurts more—the fact that he moved on so quickly, or that I still can’t hate him for it. I feel like such an idiot, holding on to the person I thought he was.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Chloe reassured her. “You loved him, and you believed in him. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you have to remember that this isn’t about you, it’s about him and his inability to recognize what he had.”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Thank you. It’s just… I keep asking myself how someone can move on so quickly. I thought what we had was real. We talked about a future, Chloe. The farm, rings, babies, all of it. And then, two weeks after we break up, he’s with someone else? It just… it doesn’t make sense.” she said, her voice cracking. “How could he say all those things to me, make all those promises, and then just... move on? Like I never mattered.”

Chloe hesitated, knowing that what she had to say might sting, but also feeling that honesty was necessary. “I know, and I wish I had the right words to make it better. I don’t understand it either. But people… they’re complicated, and sometimes they don’t even realize the damage they’re causing until it’s too late. Sometimes-” she let out a sigh, “Sometimes people make decisions that don’t make any sense, that hurt the ones they’re supposed to care about the most. But that’s on him, not you. You’re allowed to grieve, to be angry, to feel everything you’re feeling.”

“Do you think he ever really loved me?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had haunted her since the confirmation of Daniel’s new relationship, and now it hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded with vulnerability.

Chloe paused, her heart aching for her friend. “I think… I think he loved you in the way he knew how, but maybe that wasn’t the way you deserved to be loved. And that’s not your fault. It’s his loss, really. You gave him everything, and he’s the one who couldn’t appreciate it.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. “It just hurts so much, you know? I keep thinking that if I had done something differently, if I had been better, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Chloe said firmly. “You did nothing wrong. You were yourself, and that should have been enough. He’s the one who couldn’t see what he had in front of him. But I see you, and so do the people who really care about you. You’re not alone in this.”

The girl swallowed the lump in her throat, grateful for Chloe’s words, for her friendship. “Thank you, Chloe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m here for you, no matter what,” Chloe replied warmly. 

As the conversation between the girl and Chloe lingered, an uncomfortable question bubbled up within her. She hesitated, biting her lip before finally asking, “Chloe, how is Heidi? Is she… nice? She looks like she is.”

Chloe paused on the other end, considering her words carefully. “She is nice,” she admitted softly. “She’s kind and sweet, and she seems like a good person.”

The girl swallowed hard, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest. “I figured as much,” she said, her voice tinged with a quiet resignation. “At the beginning, I wanted to tear her apart, you know? I wanted to pick out every flaw she had, convince myself she wasn’t good enough. But I couldn’t do that… because she just looks so nice and kind. It’s almost like it made everything worse, knowing that I couldn’t even hate her.”

Chloe sighed, understanding the conflict in her friend’s heart. “It’s natural to feel that way, to want to protect yourself by finding reasons to dislike her. But you’re also showing so much strength by acknowledging that she’s not the enemy. It’s okay to feel conflicted.”

The girl nodded, though her throat tightened. “I just wish it didn’t hurt so much, Chloe. I wish I could be happy for him, for them. But it’s hard when it feels like I’ve been discarded, replaced by someone who seems perfect in every way.”

“Listen,” Chloe said, her voice firm yet gentle, “you’re human, and it’s okay to feel hurt and conflicted. But don’t let those feelings define you. You’re more than what he made you feel, and you deserve someone who will see all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between”

“I know,” she whispered, though the knowledge didn’t make the pain any easier to bear. “It’s just hard to accept sometimes.”

“It is,” Chloe agreed. “But you’ll get there. One step at a time. And remember, just because she’s nice doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t valid. You’re allowed to grieve what you’ve lost, even if it’s complicated.”

—

Slowly, the depression began to give way to a semblance of acceptance—or something that resembled it. It wasn’t forgiveness, nor was it forgetting, but a grudging acknowledgment that clinging to the pain and anger would only prolong her agony.

She continued to write, but the tone of her lyrics shifted. They were still tinged with sadness and loss, but there was also a hint of desperation and sometimes hope.

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You've moved on, found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you.

[...]

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?

An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

And now I'm pickin' her apart

Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she's beautiful, she looks kind

She probably gives you butterflies.

[...]

I hope you're happy

I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.

Acceptance came in small, painful increments. It was in the quiet moments when Baby Iza’s tiny hand rested on her cheek, or when Vitto and Andrew’s unwavering support reminded her that she was not alone. It was in the act of writing itself, where she could pour out her heart and begin to untangle the threads of grief and loss.

As she sat on the grass, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows around her, she realized that while Daniel’s betrayal had broken her, it had not destroyed her. She would rebuild herself, piece by piece, word by word, until she was whole again. Despite everything, she was still standing.

Through the anger, the depression, and the acceptance, she learned that she had the strength to endure. The scars from this heartbreak would always be there, but they would also be a testament to her resilience and her capacity to heal. And in those moments of writing, she knew she would emerge from this experience stronger, wiser, and ready to embrace whatever the future held.

[vernons-girl]

not her | choi seungcheol - kim mingyu pt.3

PART 1 ; PART 2 ; PART 3 (final)

angst, drama, happy ending,w.c:3k8

taglist: @gaslysainz ; @graybaeismytae ; @mansaaay ; @breadsquash

a/n: here we goooo, final part of this fic ! i hope y’all won’t be disappointed with this final chapter because i really enjoyed writing it and i'm pretty proud of myself hehe

The next morning, you woke up in Seungcheol's spare bedroom feeling a bit disoriented. As the events from the previous day flooded back into your mind, you couldn't help but feel a heavy weight settle in your chest once again.

Rolling over, you reached for your phone on the bedside table. Several missed calls and texts from your sister greeted you, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond just yet. The pain was still too raw, the betrayal too fresh.

As you lay there, lost in thought, you heard a gentle knock on the door followed by Seungcheol's voice. "Hey, are you awake?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice hoarse from crying.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "Yeah, sure."

Seungcheol entered the room, a sympathetic look on his face. "How are you feeling?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

You shrugged, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't know," you finally admitted. "I just... I feel so lost."

Seungcheol reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I understand," he said softly. "But you're not alone in this. I'm here for you, okay?"

You nodded, grateful for his comforting presence. "Thank you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol gave you a reassuring smile before standing up. "I made some breakfast. Why don't you come join me in the kitchen?" he suggested.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay," you agreed, slowly getting out of bed.

Together, you made your way to the kitchen where Seungcheol had prepared a simple breakfast. As you sat down at the table, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him for his kindness and support.

The two of you ate in silence for a while, the only sound filling the room was the clinking of utensils against plates. Eventually, Seungcheol spoke up, breaking the quiet.

"I've been thinking," he began, his expression serious. "About Mingyu and your sister."

You tensed at the mention of their names, the memories of the previous day flooding back into your mind.

"I think we need to confront them," Seungcheol continued, his voice firm. "We need to find out the truth about what happened."

You looked up at him, surprise written across your face. "But what if they deny everything?” you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Seungcheol shook his head. "Then we'll deal with it," he said firmly. "But we can't let them get away with hurting you like this. You deserve answers."

You nodded, feeling a sense of determination welling up inside you. "You're right," you agreed. "I need to know the truth."

With that decision made, you and Seungcheol spent the rest of the morning discussing how best to approach the situation. By the time lunchtime rolled around, you had formulated a plan and were ready to put it into action.

As you prepared to face Mingyu and your sister, you couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. But with Seungcheol by your side, you knew that no matter what happened, you would get through it together.And as you set out to confront the people who had betrayed you, you couldn't help but cling to the hope that perhaps, amidst all the chaos, there was still a chance for a happy ending.

After freshening up, you and Seungcheol got into his car on the way to meet with your sister. The drive felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with a mix of anxiety and determination.

As you pulled up outside the place, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. Seungcheol reached over and squeezed your hand reassuringly, his presence offering you a sense of comfort amidst the uncertainty.

Together, you made your way to the front door and knocked, your heart pounding in your chest. After a few moments, your sister opened the door, a look of surprise crossing her face at the sight of you and Seungcheol standing there.

"Oh my God! Where were you?" she asked, “I was so worried about you! Why didn’t you answer any of my texts and calls ?” she continued with worry in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "We need to talk," you said, your voice firm.

Your sister's expression shifted, a hint of apprehension flickering in her eyes. "About what?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"About what happened at the mall yesterday," you replied, your tone unwavering.

Your sister's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, you could see the guilt written across her face. But before she could respond, Mingyu appeared behind her, his expression equally surprised at the sight of you and Seungcheol standing there.

"What's going on?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"We need to talk," you repeated, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.

Mingyu glanced between you and Seungcheol, his expression growing increasingly concerned. "Okay," he said finally, stepping aside to let you and Seungcheol inside.

As you entered the living room, a tense silence descended over the room, the air thick with unspoken tension. Seungcheol took a seat on the couch, gesturing for you to join him. You sank down beside him, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to confront Mingyu and your sister about their betrayal.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face them, your gaze unwavering as you spoke. "I saw you at the mall yesterday," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "I saw you kissing Mingyu."

Your sister's eyes widened in shock, her face paling at your words. Beside her, Mingyu shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"I can't believe you would do this to me," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "After everything we've been through, after all the times I've confided in you, how could you betray me like this? You know that I liked him!"

Mingyu's expression shifted from confusion to shock at your revelation. His eyes widened in disbelief, and for a moment, you could see the hurt and guilt flicker across his face.

"What? I-I didn't know," he stammered, his voice filled with remorse. "I swear, I had no idea."

Your sister, however, remained silent, her eyes downcast as she avoided your gaze. But the guilt written across her face was unmistakable, a silent admission of her betrayal.

Seungcheol's jaw clenched as he watched the scene unfold, his fists tightening at his sides. He could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface, a fiery rage burning in his chest at the sight of Mingyu and your sister's betrayal.

But before he could speak up, Mingyu turned to your sister, his voice filled with accusation. "You knew?” he demanded, his eyes blazing with anger.

Your sister flinched at the accusation, but she remained silent, unable to meet Mingyu's gaze."Answer me!" Mingyu pressed, his voice rising with each word. "You knew about y/n’s feelings for me? Did you use her to get to me?"

Your sister's silence spoke volumes, confirming Mingyu's worst suspicions. Anger boiled over inside him, a wave of fury crashing over him as he realized the extent of your sister's deception.

"You lied to me," he accused, his voice trembling with emotion. "You manipulated me into thinking y/n had no feelings for me, all so you could have me to yourself."

Mingyu's shock and anger simmered just beneath the surface as he processed the revelation of your sister's betrayal. His voice trembled with a mixture of hurt and frustration as he addressed her directly.

"Mingyu, I can explain," the sister began, her voice shaky as she tried to salvage the situation.

"Explain?" Mingyu's tone was incredulous, his eyes flashing with disbelief. "You knew about y/n's feelings for me, didn't you? You knew, and yet you never said a word. You let me believe that there was nothing between us, that y/n was just a friend."

Your sister shifted uncomfortably under Mingyu's accusing gaze, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. "I... I didn't mean for things to turn out like this," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"But they did," Mingyu shot back, his voice rising with anger. "You manipulated me into thinking that you cared about me, when all along, you were just using me to get what you wanted."

Tears welled up in the sister's eyes as she struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I never meant to hurt anyone. I was just... I was so caught up in my own feelings that I didn't stop to think about how it would affect you or y/n."

Mingyu's expression softened slightly at the sight of the sister's tears, but his anger still burned bright within him. "Sorry isn't going to fix this," he said firmly. "You betrayed y/n's trust, you betrayed my trust. And for what? So you could have me all to yourself?"

The sister shook her head, her tears falling freely now. "No, that's not it at all," she protested, her voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted to hurt y/n, I swear. I just... I thought that if you knew how I felt, you would choose me instead."

Mingyu's anger flared once again at her words, his fists clenched at his sides. "So you thought it was okay to lie to me, to manipulate me into thinking that y/n didn't matter?" he demanded, his voice laced with bitterness.

Your sister recoiled at his accusation, her heart heavy with guilt. "No, I didn't think it was okay," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I was selfish, I was stupid, and I hurt the people I care about most. I know I can't undo what I've done, but please... please believe me when I say that I never meant for any of this to happen."

Mingyu's expression softened slightly at her words, his anger giving way to a sense of sadness. "I want to believe you," he said quietly. "But that doesn't change the fact that you hurt y/n. You betrayed her trust, you broke her heart."She bowed her head in shame, her tears staining the fabric of her shirt. "I know," she whispered. "And I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I'll apologize to y/n, I'll make amends for what I've done. I just... I hope that someday both of you can forgive me."

The tension somehow came to a still after Mingyu’s outburst, he lowered his gaze to your figure.

The weight of the fresh revelations hung heavily between you two, but there was something he needed to get off his chest.

Mingyu took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "There's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice wavering slightly with emotion. "Before all of this happened, before I started seeing your sister, I... I had feelings for you."

Your eyes widened in surprise, their breath catching in their throat. "You did?", you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "I did," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "And if I had known the truth sooner, if I had known what your sister was capable of, things would've been completely different between us."

Your heart ached at Mingyu's confession, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through your veins. "Mingyu, I..." you began, voice trailing off as you struggled to find the words to respond.

But Mingyu held up a hand, stopping you before you could speak. "I don't expect you to forgive me," he said softly, his eyes filled with regret. "I just needed you to know the truth. And whatever happens next, just know that I'll always care about you, no matter what."With that, Mingyu shot one last glance to your sister before speaking again, "I can't even look at you right now," he muttered, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I trusted you, and you betrayed that trust in the worst possible way."

As Mingyu stormed out of the room, leaving your sister alone with her guilt and remorse, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. The betrayal cut deep, tearing at the bonds that once held your family together. And as you looked at your sister, tears streaming down her face, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal and anger simmering inside you.

"You ruined everything," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "You destroyed us, all for your own selfish desires."

"You betrayed me," you accused, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "How could you do this to me?"

Your sister's expression hardened, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I did what I had to do," she shot back, her voice tinged with bitterness. "You were too blind to see what was right in front of you."

"Blind?" you scoffed, disbelief coloring your tone. "You call manipulating me and Mingyu 'doing what's right'? You had no right to interfere in my life like that."

"I did it because I care about you!" your sister retorted, her voice rising in frustration. "I couldn't stand to see you throw away your future for someone who would never feel the same way about you."

"But that wasn't your decision to make!" you countered, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. "You had no right to meddle in my relationships, to manipulate me and Mingyu like that."

"I was just trying to protect you!" your sister insisted, her voice cracking with emotion. "I didn't want to see you get hurt."

"Protect me?" you scoffed, incredulous. "You call this protection? You've only caused pain and heartache for everyone involved."

Silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating, as the weight of the truth hung in the air like a dark cloud. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of hurt and betrayal washing over you in waves.

"I trusted you," you whispered, your voice barely above a broken whisper. "And you betrayed that trust in the worst possible way."

Your sister's resolve wavered, her mask of defiance slipping away to reveal the guilt and remorse beneath. "I know," she admitted, her voice barely more than a choked sob. "I know I messed up, and I'm so sorry."

But her apology did little to ease the pain in your heart, the wounds of betrayal still fresh and raw. And as you turned away from her, unable to bear the sight of her tears, you knew that things would never be the same between you and your sister again. The bond that had once held you together now shattered, irreparably broken by her betrayal.

Suddenly, Seungcheol stood up, holding his hand out for you to take.

“We should go.” he simply said.

The room felt emptier than it had ever been as you took a hold of his hand and got ready to leave.

Your sister watched from across the room, her eyes filled with regret and sorrow, but it was too late for apologies now. The damage had been done, and no amount of remorse could mend the shattered pieces of your trust.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the deafening silence that surrounded you.

You turned to face her, the weight of her words heavy on your heart. "I know," you replied softly, your tone laced with resignation. "But sorry isn't enough to fix what you've done."

Seungcheol squeezed your hand, a silent reminder that you were not alone in this. With one last glance at your sister, you turned away, ready to leave the painful memories behind.

As you walked out the door, the sound of your footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, a haunting reminder of what once was. And as the door closed behind you, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for the sister you left behind, alone in the wreckage of her own making.

As you and Seungcheol settled back into the car, the weight of the recent events hung heavy in the air. The tension was palpable, but there was also a sense of relief knowing that the truth was finally out in the open.

Seungcheol started the engine, but before pulling out of the driveway, he turned to you, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice gentle and reassuring.

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I never expected things to turn out like this."

Seungcheol reached out and gently took your hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I know," he said sympathetically. "But you were so brave back there. Facing your sister and Mingyu like that took a lot of courage."

You offered him a weak smile, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks," you said, your voice tinged with gratitude. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

Seungcheol returned your smile, his eyes warm and reassuring. "You don't have to thank me," he said sincerely. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

As Seungcheol drove away from the chaotic scene at your sister's house, he glanced over at you, his expression soft with concern. He could see the turmoil in your eyes, the weight of the day's events heavy on your shoulders. Determined to provide you with some semblance of comfort, he decided to take you somewhere peaceful, away from the chaos and drama.

After a short drive, Seungcheol pulled into a secluded spot by the river. The gentle sound of flowing water filled the air, and the cool breeze brushed against your skin, calming your frazzled nerves. You stepped out of the car and walked over to the edge of the river, the tranquil scene providing a much-needed respite from the turmoil of the day.

Seungcheol joined you by the riverbank, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "I know today has been tough," he began softly, his voice filled with empathy. "But I want you to know that you don't have to face it alone. I'm here for you, always."

Touched by his words, you felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you. Seungcheol had been your rock throughout the entire ordeal, offering unwavering support and understanding when you needed it most. And in that moment, you realized just how much he meant to you.

"I'm so grateful to have you in my life, Seungcheol," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You've been there for me through thick and thin, and I don't know what I would do without you."

Seungcheol's gaze softened, his heart swelling with emotion at your words. “There's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of nervousness and determination. "I've been meaning to say it for a while now, but I didn't want to complicate things, especially with everything that's been going on."

Your heart raced with anticipation as you waited for him to continue. You could sense the gravity of his words, and you found yourself holding your breath, afraid to break the spell of the moment.

Taking a deep breath, Seungcheol reached out and gently took your hand in his, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I care about you more than I can put into words," he confessed, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. "And I don't just mean as a friend. I've developed feelings for you, deeper than I ever thought possible."

His confession hung in the air between you, the weight of his words sinking in with each passing moment. And as you looked into his eyes, you saw the raw vulnerability reflected in his gaze, baring his soul to you in a way that took your breath away.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing by the river, bound together by the unspoken connection that had grown between you. And in that moment, you knew with absolute certainty that you felt the same way."I feel the same, Seungcheol," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion.

A radiant smile spread across Seungcheol's face, his eyes sparkling with joy and relief. Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let you go.

You found yourself enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of his words echoed in your mind as you stood by the riverbank, the gentle sound of flowing water serving as a backdrop to the momentous occasion.

In Seungcheol's embrace, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging that you hadn't experienced in a long time. His confession had laid bare the depth of his feelings for you, and in that moment, you realized that your own emotions mirrored his.

As you held onto each other, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing together in a cocoon of shared emotion. The doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you earlier melted away, replaced by a newfound sense of clarity and purpose.

"I've been waiting to tell you how I feel for so long," Seungcheol whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "But I didn't want to risk our friendship. I didn't want to lose you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words, moved by the depth of his sincerity. "I'm so glad you told me," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been feeling the same way, Seungcheol. I care about you more than I can say."

In that moment, everything seemed to fall into place. The pain of betrayal and the chaos of the day faded into the background as you focused on the undeniable connection between you and Seungcheol. It was a bond forged through shared experiences and unwavering support, a bond that had only grown stronger with time.

With newfound courage, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Seungcheol's, sealing your confession with a tender kiss. In that simple gesture, you found solace and reassurance, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

As you pulled away from the kiss, a sense of peace washed over you, filling you with a quiet contentment that you hadn't felt in a long time. In Seungcheol's arms, you found not only love but also a sense of belonging that you had been searching for all along.

And as you sat by the river, hand in hand with Seungcheol, you knew that no matter what the future held, you were ready to face it together, united by the strength of your love and the depth of your bond.

[vxlentinescookies]

HELLO HI HI HI HRU??

So I was wondering if could do a one shot (bcz why not) of ananas discovering that reader is a witch cookie?? (Like reader is a witch but can transform into a cookie ykyk)

→ ❛A witch's tale❜

→ Pairing ; Ananas Dragon Cookie x Reader → Quote ; ❛❛Safe to say, this tale had a happy ending after all.❜❜ → Genre ; Drama , angst , romance → A/N ; Hihihi Im good! Sorry that this took so long, since it was a oneshot it took a bit of time but here you go! I hope you enjoy it!

“You lied to me!”

“I didnt have a choice!!”

At times like this, you always wondered how come you had such bad luck, how come you ended in moments like these, in situations like these. You’d look at the cookie in front of you for long moments. How did all of this start, actually? You closed your teary eyes for a few moments as you drew yourself back to the beginning of this mess.

It had been a long time when you two met, after all, you two were from completely vast worlds. You were a witch, a being of creation, but also one of destruction, and they were a dragon, also a being of creation, and also a being of destruction. Perhaps it was this duality what drew you both close? Perhaps it was this affection what drew you both together? You hummed to yourself as you thought, things were hazy, and yet, you tried to focus on the past for a few moments.

“State your business in this island, cookie”

“I-Im just a wanderer, I’ve stumbled upon your island and wish to stay for a few weeks, before I resume my trip to other lands…”

Right, the first time you both met was in the pineapple islands, back when you had just first turned into a cookie with the magic you held. You’d bow as deeply as you could as told by the villagers of the island, you even brought an offering as they said it might help you gain the dragon’s favor. It felt funny, depending on those who your hand created, you found delight in seeing how they grew to be, but you knew such luck wouldnt follow you forever. As so, you looked at the floor of the palace, awaiting for an answer. 

“Fine, you shall stay, but no more than a month” Would be the resolution, as you kneeled in front of the cookie, your gaze filled with a mixture of delight and joy.

From that day, you spent most of the time helping around the isles, helping cookies like Mango Cookie and learning about their lifestyle. It was… nice, a nice feeling to spend time amongst your creations, amongst the very things you made alongside the other witches, however, when asked where you came from by the other cookies, you’d stammer and attempt to find a way to either push the convo away or find a suitable excuse to answer. As much as you wanted to reveal your identity, you didnt want to scare the cookies away, after all, that was the main reason you became a cookie. However, there were times you missed your old human form, the form that you once belonged to and knew that you once would return to. But for now, you focused on your daily life as a cookie, writing about your findings and helping out on the island. 

Unbeknown to you, Ananas would be watching over you, as part of their task as the protector of the islands, they kept a special close eye on you, and yet, it couldnt fully put its head in the fact that there was something that drew them to you. Rarely coming out of their hiding, they’d call out for you in the middle of your stay in the isles, right when you were helping Mango Cookie with something. 

“You called for me, golden dragon?” You greeted them, then, bowing for them as they’d only gaze at you closely.

“Yes, I’ve been looking at you all these days, you’ve been of great help for the islands, I must admit” Would be their words at first, their gaze burning holes on your head as you kept your bow. “As so, I’ve decided to… request something of you”

‘Request?´You thought to yourself, ‘I thought Ananas Dragon Cookie was arrogant, what could they request from me?’

“What may I help you with, golden dragon?” You’d simply ask amidst your confusion, which was noted by the dragon, who, with a chuckle, would settle your sentence.

“You shall become my servant, and aid not only the island, but my personal affairs as well.”

Now, when you became a cookie, the last thing you expected was to call the attention of a dragon in that way, to call the attention of a being superior from you in such a way that they needed your aid in personal affairs. What personal affairs could a dragon even have? Despite your initial attempt at a protest, the dragon would simply tell you to be proud of this achievement, for they’d rarely hold onto any cookie for help. As so, you’d become their helper, the one to aid them in the issues they could have, always standing by their side and at times, even making chit chat as you both spoke whenever time allowed it.

Thats how you grew to learn more about the golden dragon, and in return, thats how it learnt what seemed to make you so special, so different form other cookies. You were kind, gentle, a complete opposite from them, and thats what drew them to you, that kindness, that sweetness, like sweet ambrosia in their lips, they’d drank it all the more you both spent time together, the more you both talked. Thats how they began to court you, slowly, but surely, and in return, you extended your stay, and a month became a year, and a year became many more. In said years you would take trips back to your home, where you’d return to your witch form and take a moment to rest, jolt down what you had found, before returning to the cookie world as one of them.

The rest of the time, however? You would be courted by the dragon of the islands, gifted lavish treasures, the finest of attires and the most delicious of foods. It was a slow burn, a flame that never seemed to fully consume, mostly because each time they got too close, you skillfully drew them away, denying their advances.

“Why do you not accept me?” They’d ask you one day, when you had refused their advances once more, causing them to grow tired and tired with each passing day. “What keeps you from doing so?”

“... Im afraid I cannot tell you” Would be your answer always, but the dragon wasnt satisfied, they could never be satisfied with such an answer.

Ananas was an obsessive lover, like many dragons were, possessive but not to extremes, simply wanting to protect the treasures that it had, and you were the most special of them all. So, it wouldnt back down, not while they had the ability to court you, and now while they knew that you felt the same. It was clear in your actions, your affection, how you accepted their lingering touch and their own affection. It threw them for a loop to see you be so adamant at turning them down. 

But deep down you knew there was so much you could do before they’d grow tired, you knew there was so much you could do before they knew the truth, for your heart ached in love for the dragon. They said opposites attract, and that couldnt be more true for the both of you. One day, you’d leave the islands yet again, hopping into a boat to disappear into the horizon like you always did, the catch? was that this time Ananas followed you as you left. They didnt want to distrust you, they truly didnt, but they knew that there was something in that trip that made you afraid of accepting their love, and so, they’d go with you in secret.

Perhaps, perhaps thats how we arrived at the current moment, where you gazed upon the cookie looking angrily at you as you stood in your witch form.

“Understand that I didnt have a choice” You pleaded, tears in your eyes as you took your hat off from your head, in a sign of respect, and defeat. “But there’s no hiding it now, is there…?”

“Just spit it out, you witch” They’d say, looking at you with venom in their eyes. “Your mere existence has put many cookies in the line, so say it”

“... Im a witch, Ananas Dragon Cookie” You’d finally sentence, but they wouldnt be taken aback, they’d simply huff as they prepared to leave. “Wait—Dont go! Please… Let me explain myself!”

“I dont have time for pitiful explanations” Would be their words before they took flight, disappearing into the same horizon you had disappeared many days ago.

And for many months, that would be the last you’d see of them, the last you’d see of Ananas as you wept in your study near your oven, near the door to the entrance of the cookie world. You considered closing said door, and leaving that life behind for good, for it brought you much pain, but one day, something changed.

You were weeping while revisiting your notes on the cookies, sat on the windowsill of your study, when something came flying towards you catching you off guard enough to trip and accidentally become a cookie yet again through a potion falling on you, a form you hadnt taken in months. Looking up, however, you’d be encountered with a sight you didnt expect to see after the fight that had broken that day.

“Ananas Dragon Cookie!” You’d explain, and the dragon in question would just groan slightly, rolling their eyes before helping you up. “W-Why are you here?”

“Witch— No, (y/n) cookie” They’d start “I’ve… come to hear you out”

“Huh?”

“Despite the secrets you kept from me, I’ve found myself unable to fully forget you, to fully draw you out of my heart, and so… and so…” They’d trail off, not without another groan, finally speaking after a while “Sigh… I’ve come to look for you”

“... You’re brave for stepping into the lair of a witch” You prefaced, then, to which Ananas would only huff as you’d chuckle “But, if you’ve come to hear me out, then I must oblige… I am a witch, but im not one of the witches that desire to eat cookies… I became a cookie myself simply for the desire to learn more about your cultures, your way of living, and… and in the way I… I fell in love…”

You took a deep breath, looking at them as they stared at you expectantly, awaiting for an answer, but instead of it you decided to continue speaking, in fear your feelings wouldnt be accepted, wouldnt be returned.

“I didnt tell you because I didnt want to tell you nor accept your advances because I knew the day would come where you’d realize Im not a cookie and, I feared that you’d leave me” You spoke, as he drew closer. “So I didnt—Ananas?”

“I’ve loved you for so many days” They’d start “And even when I thought I couldnt love you, i realized I still did, (y/n) cookie, will you accept my love now?”

Safe to say, this tale had a happy ending after all.

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon 2 - Letters.

Summary:

A series of letters that Aemond wrote to Vaelys, but never sent.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Language, Allusion to Smut, Discussions of Events from Lost Dragon, Future Events.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

Word Count: 9507

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Dear Vaelys,

The halls of the Red Keep feel emptier without you. Even though it has only been a few days since you went to Dragonstone, it seems like an eternity has passed. I find myself wandering through the corridors, expecting to see your smile around every corner, only to be met with silence and shadows.

You were my only friend, Vaelys, the one person who understood me in ways no one else could. With you gone, I feel a profound loneliness that I cannot shake. It is as if a part of me has been torn away, leaving an aching void in its place. I miss our conversations, our shared laughter, and the comfort of knowing that someone cared for me not as a Prince, but as simply Aemond.

Dragonstone is now your home. Yet, I selfishly wish you were still here, by my side. The burden of our family's name feels heavier without your presence to lighten it.

All my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I write to you with a heart heavy with sorrow, having heard the news of Laena's passing.

We are to gather on Driftmark for her funeral, to honour her memory and pay our respects. Yet, in the midst of this sorrow, I must confess to feeling a pang of something I should not—a glimmer of anticipation.

I know it is selfish of me, but the thought of seeing you again brings a light to my heart that I have not felt since you left King's Landing. The days have been long and lonely without you here, and the prospect of being in your company, even under such mournful circumstances, brings me a measure of solace.

I have missed you terribly, Vaelys. The thought of seeing you again, if only for a short while, gives me something to hold onto in these dark times.

I hope you are well and finding strength amidst the sorrow. I look forward to our reunion on Driftmark, though it is shrouded in the grief of loss. Until then, please take care of yourself and know that you are in my thoughts.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I-I don’t know how to start this. Everything hurts. My eye-or where it was-the pain is-it's too much. I can’t think straight, can’t do anything. The simplest things are so hard now. Writing this-it’s near almost impossible. My handshakes, and my vision blurs.

I need you. I need you here, with me. I can’t-I don’t know how much longer I can endure this. The pain, the frustration, the-the loneliness. It’s like a storm in my mind, and I’m drowning in it. I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost without you.

Please, Vaelys, come to me. I need your help, your presence, your-your everything. You always knew how to make things better, how to-how to make the world seem less dark. I can’t do this alone. I’m breaking apart. I don’t know how to be whole again.

The nights are the worst. The pain doesn’t stop, and I-I can’t sleep. I just lie there, thinking, hurting. I need you to help me, to make the pain bearable, to-to be my friend again. I’m begging you, Vaelys. Please, come.

I can’t write anymore. It’s too much. But please, know that I need you. More than ever.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I-I do not hate you for what happened on Driftmark. I know you were scared. What happened to my eye was not your fault. It was your brother's actions that led to this.

All I wanted was a dragon. I was tired of being picked on, tired of being seen as lesser because I did not have one. Claiming Vhagar felt like the only way to prove myself, to finally belong.

The loss of my eye is a burden I will carry for the rest of my life, but it is not a burden I place on you. I miss you, Vaelys,

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

I hesitate to write to you about this, but I feel I must.

On my thirteenth name day, Aegon took me to the street of silk. He said it was time for me to ‘get it wet’. I-I tried to refuse, but he wouldn’t listen. He pushed me into that place, and I did what he said because I felt I had no choice.

I felt nothing but shame and disgust. I didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to do what he said. But I did it. And now I am left with this sense of filth that I cannot wash away. I feel so ashamed, Vaelys. So deeply ashamed of what happened, of what I did.

I beg you, please do not hate me for this. It was not something I wanted, not something I chose. Aegon made me do it, and I feel like a part of me has been tainted forever. I am so afraid of what you will think of me now.

Please, Vaelys, understand that I am still the same person you have always known. I am lost and in pain, but I am still Aemond. I need your forgiveness, your understanding, now more than ever.

P-Please d-don’t hate m-me.

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

I have immersed myself in the study of history and philosophy. The ancient texts have provided a welcome distraction and have opened my mind to new perspectives. The wisdom of those who came before us is fascinating.

In addition to my studies, I have been training with the sword daily. The discipline and physical exertion help to clear my mind and strengthen my body. It is a way for me to channel my energy and focus on something productive. I feel myself improving with each session, growing more confident and skilled.

A few days ago, I took Vhagar for a flight across the Blackwater. The experience was exhilarating, the wind in my face and the vast expanse of the sky around me. We flew for many hours, and eventually, I saw the silhouette of Dragonstone in the distance. My heart raced with the thought of flying further, of coming to see you.

But as I neared, I lost my nerve. Doubts crept in, and I turned Vhagar back towards King’s Landing.

I wanted to let you know that you are always in my thoughts, even when I am far away.

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

I cannot help but wonder why you have not written to me.

We made a promise to each other in front of the weirwood tree, a promise that I have held close to my heart. Do those words mean nothing to you now? How could you cast me adrift like this? Do you not realize how much I need you?

I feel abandoned, Vaelys. I feel as if you have turned away from me, and it tears at my soul. You were my closest friend, the one person who understood me better than anyone else. Why have you turned on me?

I find myself questioning everything. Did our bond mean so little to you? Have you truly forgotten the connection we shared? I am struggling to understand how you could simply let go, how you could leave me to face this world alone.

Please, Vaelys..

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

It feels both comforting and ridiculous to write to you again after so many years. These letters, unsent and unseen, have become a private sanctuary for my thoughts. I suppose it is my way of holding onto something that has long since faded.

I miss you, Vaelys. I miss the closeness we once shared, the bond that felt unbreakable. Yet with each passing day, the distance between us grows, and our promise in front of the weirwood tree seems less likely to ever be fulfilled. I often wonder if you think of me as I think of you, or if I have become just a distant memory, a shadow of your past.

It is strange, this compulsion to write to you when I know these words will never reach you. Perhaps it is my way of preserving the connection we had, a connection that seems to slip further away with time.

Life has moved on, as it inevitably does. I have continued my studies, my training, and my duties, but there is always an ache, a sense of something missing. You were my friend, the one who understood me in ways no one else could. The absence of your presence has left a void that nothing seems to fill.

I often find myself at the window of my chambers, gazing out at the horizon, wondering what you are doing, where you are, and if you are happy. I wonder if you remember our promise if it still holds any meaning for you. For me, it is a bittersweet reminder of a time when the future seemed so certain, so bright.

I fear the distance that has grown between us, both physical and emotional. I fear that the years have changed us in ways that make it impossible to bridge the gap. Yet, despite these fears, I hold onto the hope that somewhere in your heart, you still remember and care.

This letter, like the others, will remain unsent, a testament to my thoughts and feelings that will never reach you. But it feels good to express them, to put into words the emotions that have long been buried.

Know that I miss you, and that you are always in my thoughts, even as the years continue to pass.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

You are here, in the Red Keep. After six long years, I finally saw you today. Oh gods, Vaelys, you are so beautiful, my breath caught in my throat and my heart pounded in my chest the moment I laid eyes on you.

But you wouldn’t look at me. You were so close, yet you seemed so far away, hovering near those bastard Strong brothers of yours. It made me angry, Vaelys. Why won’t you look at me? Why do you stay so close to them and not come to me?

I had hoped that our reunion would be different, that we would find our way back to the connection we once shared.

I have missed you terribly, and to see you so close yet feel so distant is unbearable.

The sight of you today has brought all my feelings rushing back, feelings I thought I had buried deep within. The memory of our promise in front of the weirwood tree haunts me still. Do you remember it?

Please, Vaelys, I need to know. Look at me, speak to me, let me understand what has happened between us. The years have been long and lonely without you and seeing you today has reminded me of how much I need you, how much I still care.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I find myself unable to shake the feeling of anger and resentment that gnaws at my soul. The petition for Driftmark, my father's sudden resurgence from his sickbed to defend his favourite child once again, and the ploy for power by Vaemond.

And then there was the feast. Forced to break bread with people I despise, to smile and nod and pretend to be civil when all I wanted to do was scream. And through it all, you still wouldn't look at me.

Why, Vaelys? Why do you turn away from me? Am I no longer worthy of your attention, your friendship?

It feels as if we are strangers, ships passing in the night with nothing but silence between us. I yearn for the connection we once shared, for the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence.

Seeing you here has stirred things within me. My cock grows hard at the thought of you and forgive me-I have fucked my fist many times this night. I wish to know what it feels like-to touch you with my lips, my fingers and my cock, would you let me sheath myself within you and never leave? I long to be the only man who will ever know you in that way-to take your maidenhead and keep you as mine forever.

I know that these words will never reach you. But I cannot keep them inside any longer.

Please, Vaelys, look at me. Speak to me.

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

The King is dead, and my wastrel of a brother Aegon has been crowned. Your mother was the named heir, but he is the Kings first born son, it was the right thing to do, the proper thing to do but I feel the uncertainty swirling within me.

You are Rhaenyra’s heir; you would have been Queen one day. But now, with Aegon as King, that future has been snatched away from you, and I helped to do it. I-I cannot bear the thought of what this means for you now.

My grandsire has commanded that I fly to Storm's End and choose a Baratheon for a bride. A political alliance, a marriage to secure support for Aegon.

I-I don’t want to, the thought turns my stomach-of taking a woman I do not desire, to again be forced-but I must.

But I want you to know that this is duty and nothing more. I will NEVER love her.

For in my heart, there is only one woman I desire, only one woman I long to call my own.

It is you, Vaelys. You are the one. Please, forgive me.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I beg of you, forgive me. Forgive me for my foolishness, my arrogance, my selfishness.

I heard the words you spoke, Vaelys. I heard you declare your intention to marry Cregan Stark, and something inside me snapped. I was consumed by rage and jealousy.

I chased after you in that wretched storm, blinded by my rage and my desperation. I did not think, I did not consider the consequences of my actions. All I knew was that I could not bear to lose you, that I could not bear to see you in the arms of another.

And now, your beloved dragon, Archonei, lies dead, and you are a prisoner in the Red Keep. The guilt is like a weight upon my chest, crushing me with its enormity.

Seeing you bleeding and bound in chains is something I will never forget, and neither is the fire you spewed forth-I’m shameless in my admittance that my cock grew hard when you refused to bend the knee.

It brought me a twisted sense of satisfaction to hear your words.

Your truly are a dragon-the revelation that you are the daughter of Daemon doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, you’ve always had that rogue quality about you.

What my brother wanted to do to you-I couldn’t allow it. I know marrying me after everything that’s happened isn’t ideal, but it was the only way to save you.

I brought you here, this is ALL my fault.

But I beg of you, Vaelys, find it in your heart to forgive me. Forgive me please.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I find myself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the events that have transpired between us. Our union, our marriage, was meant to be a joyous occasion, a celebration of our love and commitment to each other. But instead, it has become a nightmare, a twisted mockery of everything we hold dear.

To be forced to consummate our union in front of witnesses, to have our most intimate moments laid bare for all to see—it sickens me, Vaelys. It fills me with a sense of shame and disgust that I cannot shake. Our first time together, tainted by the prying eyes of others.

And afterwards, when it was over, and we were left alone in our chambers, you begged for me to hold you. You sobbed in my arms, your tears a bitter reminder of the pain and humiliation you had endured. I wanted to comfort you, to soothe your fears and wipe away your tears, but I felt powerless to do so.

I am haunted by the memory of that night, Vaelys. The look in your eyes, the sound of your sobs—it will stay with me forever. You deserved better.

I know not what the future holds, Vaelys. I know only that I cannot bear to see you in pain, to see you suffer, I will do whatever it takes to protect you, to shield you from further harm.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

The war rages on. And now, my brother, has made a demand of me that I cannot bear to think of.

You, Vaelys, have become a pawn in his twisted game of power and ambition. Your friendship with Helaena, your admiration for the beauty of the gardens—I cannot help but laugh at your fear of bugs.

But then, my brother summoned me, and the laughter died on my lips. The war was not going well, he said, and having you as a hostage was not achieving the desired results. And so, he demanded that I get you with child—another hostage to be used against our enemies, a pawn in this game of thrones.

The very thought of it fills me with revulsion, Vaelys. To think that a child born from us could be used in such a manner.

Forgive me, Vaelys, for the pain and suffering that I have brought upon you.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Vaelys,

I cannot begin to express the fury that consumes me in this moment. After everything we shared, after the passion and the intimacy we experienced together, you dared to try and escape from me. How could you, Vaelys?

You said you chose me, that you wanted to be with me, and yet you tried to leave. Do you not understand what you mean to me? Do you not realize the lengths I would go to in order to keep you safe, to protect you from harm? I killed Ser Erryk, because he dared to try and help you escape. I would not have you taken away from me, Vaelys, not now, not ever.

You belong to me, body and soul, and I will not allow anyone to take you from me. You are mine, Vaelys, and you will remain mine until the end of time.

Do not think for a moment that you can escape from me again. I will not hesitate to take whatever measures are necessary to ensure that you remain by my side, where you belong.

Remember this, Vaelys: you are MINE, and nothing and no one will ever change that.

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I find myself torn between fury and tenderness, anger and love, as I sit down to write to you. The events of the past days have tested me in ways I never thought possible, and yet, despite everything, my feelings for you remain unchanged. No matter how much I try to deny it, I cannot escape the truth—I love you, Vaelys, more than words can express.

I lied to Aegon for you, Vaelys. Despite my fury at your attempt to escape, I could not bear the thought of any harm coming to you. And so, when he demanded answers, I protected you.

I allowed you to write to your mother, even though I knew I should not have. It was a risk, a dangerous game to play, but I could not deny you this small comfort. You are trapped here, as I am, and I know how much you long to be reunited with your family. I could not deny you that, not when I have already taken so much from you.

And then, you found the drawings—the ones you gave me all those years ago. I had kept every single one of them, tucked away in a secret corner of my chambers. They were a reminder of you, of our love before the world tore us apart.

We spent the most wondrous time together in bed, Vaelys, lost in each other's arms as if nothing else mattered.

Oh gods, it was unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before. It was everything.

I love you, Vaelys, more than words can express.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

My Darling,

The gods have blessed us. Your womb carries our child, a precious gift that fills me with an indescribable sense of wonder and gratitude.

Oh gods, Vaelys, I can hardly contain myself. The thought of our child, our flesh and blood, growing within you—it fills me with a sense of awe and reverence that I cannot put into words.

Everyone expects a son. And yet, as I sit here and ponder the future that awaits us, I cannot help but wonder what it would be like to have a daughter. A precious little girl, with your eyes and my hair, to dote upon and cherish for all eternity.

But regardless of whether our child is a son or a daughter, one thing is certain— they will be loved beyond measure. They will know nothing but warmth and affection, surrounded by the love of us both.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

Last night, men sneaked into our chambers, their blades glinting in the darkness as they forced me to my knees, holding me at knife point.

In that moment, I feared for my life, Vaelys. I feared that I would never see you again.

But then you came, like a beacon of hope in the darkness. You begged for my life.

That if they spared my life you would go with them willingly. The thought of you wanting to leave me again—it tore at my soul, Vaelys.

But I was wrong to doubt you, for in that moment, you proved yourself to be a true dragon, fierce and unyielding.

You seized a weapon, and you struck one of the men with a fury that took my breath away. It was a sight to behold, Vaelys, to see you defend me with such courage and determination. In that moment, I felt a swell of pride and admiration for you, my beloved wife, as you fought to protect me.

With your brave actions, you gave me the opportunity to dispatch the intruders quickly, to ensure that we both emerged from the ordeal unscathed. And for that, Vaelys, I am eternally grateful. You risked everything to save me, to protect our love, and I will never forget it.

We moved into Maegor’s Holdfast at my mother’s insistence and I’m not ashamed to admit that my sexual appetite for you that night was ravenous.

Fucking you as many times as I was able to, left me thoroughly satisfied beyond all measure and I must say the way you bite your lip as you peak around my cock has left me wanting to see it again.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

We have a daughter.

Sovia, my byka grēges. She is such a sweet little girl, with your eyes and my hair, a perfect blend of the love we share.

Never did I imagine that I could create something so beautiful, so precious. To hold her in my arms, to feel her tiny fingers wrapped around mine—it is a feeling beyond words, a love beyond measure.

She is our legacy, our hope for the future, and I am so proud to call her my daughter.

I cannot thank you enough, Vaelys, for birthing our child. You are the bravest, strongest woman I know, and I am so proud of you, Vaelys—proud of the woman you are, proud of the mother you have become. You have given me the greatest gift imaginable, and for that, I will be forever grateful.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

Another child, another precious gift to fill our lives with love and laughter—it is more than I could have ever hoped for. In the midst of war and uncertainty, the thought of our growing family brings me a sense of peace and joy that I cannot put into words.

Life with our little Sovia has been a whirlwind of joy and wonder, each day filled with new discoveries and precious moments shared together as a family. She is growing so quickly, and now, to know that another little one will soon join our ranks—it fills me with a sense of awe and gratitude that I cannot fully express.

Thank you, Vaelys, for blessing me with your love and the gift of our children.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My sweet wife,

I cannot help but feel torn between my duty to my family and my duty to my king. The war between the Greens and the Blacks still rages on, consuming everything in its path, and yet I find myself caught in the middle, torn between conflicting loyalties and obligations.

Your father still holds Harrenhal, your mother remains on Dragonstone, and Aegon grows tired of our grandsire's inaction. He has removed him from his position as Hand of the King and temporarily promoted Ser Criston Cole instead, his strategy aggressive and one that promises to bring an end to the conflict once and for all.

Admittedly, I am reluctant to leave you and Sovia behind, to ride into battle once more and risk everything for a cause that seems increasingly futile. But I know that I cannot refuse. I ride the largest dragon in the world, and I am expected to defend my King, no matter the cost.

I cannot promise that I will return unscathed. War is a cruel and unforgiving mistress, one that takes as much as it gives. But know this—I will fight with every ounce of strength and courage that I possess, not for glory or honour, but for the safety and security of our family.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Dearest Vaelys,

The battle at Rook's Rest has come and gone, but the memory of what transpired in the skies above will haunt me for the rest of my days. Rhaenys and Baela appeared on their dragons, Meleys and Moondancer, and engaged us in a deadly aerial duel that shook the very foundations of the earth.

I knew that I could not harm your sister Baela, no matter the cost. I could not bear the thought of you hating me for the rest of our days, knowing that I had taken the life of someone you loved. And so, I made a choice—

I directed Vhagar towards my brother's dragon, Sunfyre, and the two beasts collided with a force that even the sky seemed to shake. Meleys and Sunfyre engaged one another in a deadly dance of fire and blood, until finally, both dragons lay dead upon the ground.

Rhaenys and Aegon were badly injured in the battle, their bodies broken and battered by the violence that surrounded them. I knew that I could not allow Baela to suffer, and so I made her promise to escape, to take her grandmother and leave before it was too late.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

Aegon's injuries have rendered him unfit to rule, and I have been crowned Prince Regent in his stead.

But with this newfound authority comes a clash of wills and ideologies. My grandsire, the one who should be guiding me through these turbulent times, insists that we attack Dragonstone, that we strike at the heart of our enemies and crush them once and for all. But I cannot ignore the voice of reason that whispers in the back of my mind, urging caution and restraint.

He claims that my love for you clouds my judgment, that I am incapable of making rational decisions when it comes to matters of the heart. But he does not understand, Vaelys—he does not see the strength and courage that you have instilled within me, the unwavering support and love that sustains me through even the darkest of times.

I will not be some puppet king to be manipulated and controlled. I will not bow to the whims of others, no matter how powerful or influential they may be. I will do things my way, Vaelys, for the good of our family and the future of our house.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

The news of your poisoning has left me reeling, my mind consumed by thoughts of vengeance and justice for the harm that has been done to you and our unborn child.

I cannot begin to express the depth of my sorrow, Vaelys, for the loss of the babe you carried, the child that we would never know. The weight of that loss weighs heavy on my heart, a burden that I fear I will carry with me for the rest of my days. But know this—you are not alone in your grief, my dear wife. I am here for you, now and always.

It took many weeks for you to heal, Vaelys, both physically and emotionally, but you did. And yet, even as you found the strength to carry on, I could not shake the rage that burned within me, the need for vengeance against those who had wronged us.

I have found the ones responsible, and I have dealt with them accordingly. Larys Strong, the snake who orchestrated this vile act—he is dead, his life snuffed out by my own hands. I watched as the light faded from his eyes, a small measure of justice for the pain and suffering he caused. And yet, even as I sought vengeance against him, I could not bring myself to end the life of my own mother. She has been locked away in her chambers, to face the consequences of her actions in solitude and shame.

But my sweet wife, the pain and loss you have endured—I swore to keep you safe, to protect you from harm, and yet I have failed. I cannot bear the thought of you suffering any longer, Vaelys, and I will do whatever it takes to ensure that you are safe and protected from harm.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

I cannot begin to express the depth of my sorrow, Vaelys, for leaving you vulnerable to my brother's disgusting actions, for failing to protect you from harm when you needed me the most.

I should have been there for you, Vaelys. I should have stood by your side and shielded you from the darkness.

I killed him, struck my sword straight through his throat. Gods, there was so much blood, so much pain and suffering that could have been avoided if only I had been stronger, braver, better.

But you are safe now, Vaelys.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I have written to Rhaenyra and informed her of Aegon's death, knowing full well that she will come to take her place on the Iron Throne. And when she does, I know that my time will most likely come to an end, by the blade, Dark Sister.

I keep a brave face on in front of you and our daughter, for I know that you both deserve nothing less. But inside, I am filled with a sense of resignation, knowing that my fate is sealed yet strangely, there is a sense of peace that accompanies this knowledge, a sense of contentment that I have finally done what is right by you and our daughter.

I know that my actions may have cost me my life, Vaelys, but I do not regret them. For in the end, all that matters to me is that you are safe and protected from harm. I would gladly lay down my life for you, my dear wife, and for our daughter, knowing that I have fulfilled my duty as a husband and a father.

So as we await the arrival of Rhaenyra and the inevitable confrontation that will follow, know that I face death with a sense of calm and acceptance. For even in death, I will find solace in the knowledge that I have done what is right, and that you are safe and loved beyond measure.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I did not expect to live. When your father's blade was poised to strike me down, I resigned myself to my fate, prepared to meet my end with a sense of calm and acceptance. But then you, my fierce and determined wife, stepped in to save me once again, casting yourself between me and the blade, risking your own life to protect mine.

And for that, I am eternally grateful. Your love has saved me in more ways than one, and I will spend the rest of my days repaying that debt to you, however I can. But alas, it seems that fate had other plans for me, for I soon found myself being locked away, stripped of my weapons and bound in chains, awaiting judgement for my crimes.

When the time came for my judgement, my heart broke at the thought of being separated from you and our daughter for two long years. To be exiled from your side, to miss out on watching Sovia grow and flourish, it is a punishment far greater than any I could have imagined.

But know this, my dear wife—I will endure this exile with a sense of resolve and determination, knowing that it is a small price to pay for the love and happiness that you have brought into my life. And when the time comes for us to be reunited once again, I will hold you and our daughter in my arms and never let you go.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Dearest Love,

As I sit down to write to you now, the memories of our final night together weigh heavily on my heart. There was no better way to spend it than with you and our sweet daughter.

The joy of hearing her say her first word, 'Da-Da' filled me with a sense of warmth and happiness that I will carry with me always.

But as the night grew quiet and the world around us fell into darkness, I found myself consumed by a hunger that could not be sated. The thought of being separated from you, my beloved wife, for two long years filled me with a sense of unrestrained longing, an ache that echoed in the depths of my soul.

And so, in the quiet of our chambers, I was unrestrained and ravenous, my appetite for you unyielding. I wanted to memorize every curve and contour of your body, to imprint the taste of your lips upon my own, knowing that it would be the last time we would share such intimacy for a long time to come.

I will miss you, Vaelys, more than words can express. I will miss the sound of your laughter, the touch of your hand, the warmth of your embrace. My heart is broken at the thought of being away from you, from Sovia, for so long.

But know this, my dear wife—I will carry you both with me always, in my heart and in my thoughts, as I endure this exile and await the day when we can be reunited once again. Until then, know that I love you more than words can say, and that not a moment goes by that I do not long for your presence by my side.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

As I sit here in this lonely exile, the emptiness around me echoes the despair in my heart. Each passing day feels like an eternity without you by my side, and the longing for your presence consumes me like a relentless flame.

My heart breaks at the thought of being separated from you, my beloved wife, for such a long period of time. The pain of our separation is a constant companion, a heavy burden that weighs me down with every passing moment.

I cannot help but wonder if our sweet Sovia will even remember me when I return. Will she still recognize the sound of my voice, the touch of my hand? The thought of being a stranger to my own daughter fills me with a sense of sorrow and regret that cuts me to the core.

But I know that I must endure, my dear Vaelys, for the sake of our family and our future together. This exile is a cruel punishment, but I will not let it break me. I will hold onto the hope of our reunion, the promise of a brighter tomorrow when we can be together once again.

Until that day comes, know that you are always in my thoughts and in my heart. I yearn for the day when I can hold you in my arms again, to feel the warmth of your embrace and the love that binds us together.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Queen,

It has been far too long since I last put ink to paper to write to you, my love.

In the years that have passed, our lives have been filled with both joy and sorrow, triumphs and challenges. But through it all, one thing has remained constant—the love that binds us together, unbreakable and enduring.

We have been blessed with more children, Daevyn, Aemon, and Rekara have brought immeasurable joy into our lives, their laughter filling our halls with warmth and light. To see them grow and flourish under your care fills my heart with pride and gratitude, knowing that they are the legacy of our love.

And now, to see you crowned as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, with me by your side as your King Consort—it is a dream that I never dared to imagine would come true. To think that we have come so far, to stand together as rulers of our realm, united in purpose and devotion—it is a testament to the strength and resilience of our love.

My dear Vaelys, as I write these words to you now, I am filled with a sense of awe and gratitude for the life that we have built together. Through all the trials and tribulations that we have faced, you have been my rock, my guiding light, my source of strength and inspiration. I am eternally grateful for your love, my queen, and I pledge to stand by your side always, as your devoted husband and loyal consort.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

I write to you now with a heart full of joy and anticipation, for we are soon to become grandparents. The thought of welcoming a new generation into our family fills me with a sense of wonder and awe, and yet, I cannot help but wonder if I am truly old enough to bear such a title.

The prospect of becoming a grandfather both thrills and terrifies me. I find myself wondering if I will be able to live up to the expectations that come with such a role, if I will be able to offer our grandchild the love and guidance that they deserve.

As I reflect on my own journey as a father, I cannot help but feel a sense of uncertainty. I tried my best to be there for our children, to offer them the support and guidance that they needed to flourish, but there were times when I feared that it was not enough. And now, as I prepare to take on the role of a grandfather, I can only hope that my efforts as a father have laid the foundation for success.

But amidst all the uncertainty, one thing remains clear—I am filled with a sense of love and excitement at the prospect of welcoming our grandchild into the world. I know that with you by my side, my dear Vaelys, we will navigate this new chapter of our lives together, with love and devotion guiding our way.

With all my love and anticipation,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

The loss of your brother Jacaerys weighs heavily upon me, a sacrifice that I feel unworthy of and one that has left me grappling with emotions I scarcely know how to express.

Jace and I have never been close, our relationship strained by the circumstances of our birth and the paths our lives have taken. Yet, in the midst of battle on the Stepstones, he chose to give his life to save mine. It is a decision that confounds me, for I cannot fathom why the bastard boy would make such a sacrifice for me.

As I ponder his actions, I am forced to confront a truth that I have long denied: Jace was a man of incredible bravery. Despite our differences, despite the enmity that often lay between us, he showed a courage and nobility in his final moments that I cannot ignore. Though I would never admit it aloud, I have come to respect him deeply for that.

His sacrifice leaves me feeling unworthy, Vaelys. I question what it is about me that merited such a noble act, and whether I will ever be able to live up to the honour he bestowed upon me. The burden of his death is a heavy one to bear, and I fear that I may never fully understand his motives or reconcile myself to his loss.

Yet, amidst this turmoil, I find solace in your presence, my love. You have always been my anchor, and I am grateful for the strength you provide.

With all my love and sorrow,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

Never in my wildest imaginings did I think I would find myself in the position I was mere days ago, assisting you in bringing our newest child into the world. A hidden pregnancy, the Maester called it—something rare and unforeseen, yet it has blessed us with another precious life.

The shock of realizing that you were in labour was profound. We had no inkling that you were carrying another child, and I had thought my days of siring children were long behind me. Yet, as I held our tiny son in my arms for the first time, all I could feel was a profound sense of love and gratitude.

In that moment, there was only one name that came to mind: Jacaerys, in honour of your brave brother who sacrificed himself for me. Though Jace and I had our differences, his courage and nobility left an indelible mark on my heart, and it is only fitting that our son should bear his name.

As I write this, I am filled with a sense of wonder at the unexpected blessings that life continues to bestow upon us. Our family has grown once more, and I am grateful beyond words for the strength and resilience you have shown, my dearest Vaelys. You never cease to amaze me with your courage and grace, and I am honoured to walk this path alongside you.

With all my love and admiration,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I write to you today with a heart full of both pride and concern for our grandson, Vhalarr. He is a remarkable boy, and it has become increasingly clear that he possesses a rare gift—a gift that both intrigues and troubles me deeply. Helaena believes he is an exceptionally gifted dragon dreamer.

However, it is precisely this gift that burdens my heart with worry. The dreams Vhalarr experiences are vivid and often disturbing, filled with images and premonitions that a boy of his age should not have to bear. Helaena assures me that in time, he will learn to make sense of what he sees, but until then, it is a heavy burden for one so young.

I find myself questioning how we can best support and guide him through this challenging period. The weight of such visions is immense, and I fear for the toll it might take on his young mind and spirit. It is a rare and precious gift, but one that comes with its own set of trials and responsibilities.

I hope that with our guidance and love, he will grow into his gift and learn to wield it with wisdom and strength.

With all my love and determination,

Aemond.

-

My sweet Vaelys,

It has been many years since I last wrote to you, and I find myself almost at a loss for words, so accustomed have I become to sharing my heart with you face to face. But today is a day of such significance that I feel compelled to return to the written word, if only to capture the depth of my emotions.

Our son Jacaerys is getting married today, and not to one, but to two loves—Vhalarr and Saeryna. This is a union that not seen since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, and I find myself reflecting on the weight of this moment. To think that our son, born in such unexpected circumstances, would come to embody such a rare and profound love is beyond anything I could have imagined.

The wedding of Jacaerys, Vhalarr, and Saeryna fills my heart with both pride and hope. I see in them a bond that is both strong and true, a love that mirrors the unity and strength we have always strived for in our own marriage. Yet, I cannot help but recall the history of Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya, and the challenges they faced in their unique union.

I pray that their marriage will be filled with harmony and understanding, that the love they share will fortify them against any trials they may face. Our world has changed much since the days of the Conqueror, and I believe that with our guidance and support, they can create a new legacy of love and unity.

You and I have walked a long and winding path together, Vaelys, and it is our enduring love that has been the foundation of our family. I see that same strength in our son and his spouses, and I am filled with hope that their journey will be one of joy and fulfilment.

As I watch them take their vows, I will be reminded of our own journey, the trials we have faced, and the love that has sustained us. I am grateful beyond words for the life we have built together, for the children and grandchildren we have raised, and for the love that continues to grow within our family.

With all my love and deepest hopes for the future,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I find myself struggling to put my thoughts into words, so great is the sorrow that fills my heart. The Maesters, with all their knowledge and skills, have been unable to find a cure for your ailment, and each day I see you grow weaker. It is a torment unlike any I have ever known, to watch the love of my life suffer and feel so helpless.

You have always been my strength, my guiding star, and the thought of losing you is unbearable. We have faced so much together, from the tumultuous days of war to the joys of raising our children and seeing them flourish.

I think back on our journey, the promises we made beneath the weirwood tree, the love that has only deepened with time. You have been my constant companion, my confidante, my everything.

You have given me so much, Vaelys—more than I could ever have hoped for. Our life together has been a tapestry of love and adventure, woven with threads of joy and sorrow, triumph and hardship. Even now, as you face this cruel illness, you remain a beacon of light and hope, reminding me of the beauty and resilience of the human spirit.

I pray each night for a miracle, for a cure that will restore you to health. But in the absence of such a miracle, I want you to know how deeply and completely I love you. You are my heart, my soul, my everything. I will be by your side, through every moment of this journey, offering you all the love and support I can.

If there is any solace to be found, it is in the knowledge that our love is eternal. No matter what happens, that love will endure, a testament to the bond we share. I am grateful for every moment we have had together and for the family we have built. Our love will live on in our children and grandchildren, a legacy of the extraordinary life we have shared.

With all my love and unwavering devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

You are gone, and my heart is shattered into a thousand pieces. Writing this letter feels like a cruel mockery, a way to pretend that you might still hear my words, though I know you never will.

You died in my arms, and as I held you in those final moments, a part of me died with you.

How do I live in a world where you do not exist? Every breath feels like a betrayal, every heartbeat a reminder that you are no longer here. I do not know how to carry on without you, nor do I want to. The very thought of facing each day without your presence, your smile, your love, is more than I can bear.

You were my everything, Vaelys. My strength, my joy, my reason for living. We built a life together, filled with love and memories that now feel like hollow echoes in your absence.

I do not know how to go on without you. I do not know how to wake up each morning and face a world that has lost its light. The days stretch out before me like an endless, empty void, each moment a reminder of what I have lost. I find myself longing for the end, for a way to be with you once more, wherever you may be.

Our children and grandchildren need me, I know this. They look to me for strength, for guidance, for the love that you and I built together. But how can I give them what I no longer possess? How can I be a father, a grandsire, a great grandsire when my own heart is broken and bleeding?

You were the best part of me, Vaelys. Without you, I am a hollow shell, a man bereft of purpose and joy. I miss you with every fibre of my being, and I curse the fates that took you from me. How cruel it is to love so deeply, only to have that love torn away.

I do not know how to live without you.

Until we meet again, my love, my heart, my everything.

Aemond.

-

My Darling,

Today we laid you to rest. The streets of King’s Landing were filled with people expressing their sorrow for our beloved Queen. Flower petals lingered in the air, and the city came to a standstill as they mourned you. It was a beautiful tribute, but it did nothing to ease the pain in my heart.

I could not bring myself to say the words for Vhagar to ignite the pyre. My tears were unending, and I felt as if my very soul was being torn apart.

Our daughter, Sovia, had to give the command. She stood there with such strength that I could not muster. Watching your pyre ignite and seeing the flames consume you was the hardest thing I have ever endured.

I feel lost without you.

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I have watched our children, Sovia and Daevyn, be crowned as the new Queen and King of the realm. They are strong and capable, and I know they will rule wisely and justly. I have remained long enough to see our children ascend to the throne, to ensure that our legacy lives on. But now, I find that I cannot go on any longer.

The world without you is a place of unending sorrow and pain. Every breath I take feels like a betrayal, every heartbeat a reminder that you are no longer here. I have tried to be strong for our family, to carry on as you would have wanted me to, but I can no longer endure this agony. The weight of my grief is too much to bear, and the thought of living the rest of my days without you is unbearable.

I want to be with you, Vaelys. I long to hold you in my arms once more, to hear your voice, to feel your touch. The pain of your absence has hollowed me out, leaving nothing but a shell of the man I once was. I cannot cope with this emptiness, this aching void that consumes me every moment of every day.

Sovia and Daevyn are strong. They will thrive and continue our legacy, just as you would have wanted. I am so proud of them, and I know you would be too. But I cannot find solace in their achievements, not when the ache of your absence is a constant, gnawing pain.

The thought of continuing without you is more than I can bear. I want to die, Vaelys. I want to be with you once more, to find peace in your embrace. I do not fear death, not if it means I can be with you again.

Please forgive me for my weakness, for my inability to cope with this life without you. Know that I love you with all my heart, and that love is what sustains me even now. But it is not enough. I need you, Vaelys. I need to be with you.

Until we are reunited, know that you are always in my heart, my thoughts, my every breath. I love you now and forever.

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I hear your voice. Soft, like a whisper carried on the wind, calling to me. At first, I thought it was merely my mind playing cruel tricks on me, but now I am certain. It is you. Are you calling to me, my love? Is my time near?

I am ready, Vaelys. I have lived my life, seen our children ascend to the throne, and watched over our family as best as I could.

Come for me, my love. I am ready. I am ready to leave this world behind and join you in whatever lies beyond.

Please, Vaelys, come for me. I am ready to follow your voice, ready to find the peace and happiness that I have been denied for so long. I love you now and forever, and I am ready to be with you once more.

Aemond.

"More, mama-“

Daenerys smiled tenderly down at her daughter, her heart swelling with love. "There is no more, my love," she replied gently, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room of the Red Keep.

Closing the overflowing book, Daenerys held her daughter close, savouring the warmth of her embrace.

“He died of a broken heart, didn’t he?”

“Yes, my love," replied Daenerys, her voice soft with sorrow. "It was said that Aemond was a dragon who mourned the loss of his greatest treasure-that he couldn't exist without the other half of his soul."

A small smile tugged at the corners of the little girl's lips as she pondered her mother's words. "Maybe that's what my baby brother could be called," she said thoughtfully. "Aemond."

Daenerys' amethyst eyes softened as she looked down at her daughter, her heart swelling with love. "Aemond," she repeated, as she ran a hand over her round stomach.

"Vaelys,”

The little girl turned at the sound of her name, her face breaking into a radiant smile at the sight of her father.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, reaching out her arms to him.

Jon scooped her up into his embrace, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "How's my little princess?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

"Mama was reading letters to me," Vaelys replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And I had an idea for my brother's name."

Jon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that, sweetheart?"

"Aemond," Vaelys said eagerly.

Jon's heart swelled with pride at his daughter. "Aemond," he repeated, testing out the name on his tongue. "I think that's a wonderful idea-after all we can’t have a Vaelys without her Aemond”.

THE END.

A.N - Apologise for the long fic, but I just couldn't seperate it and yes I cried.

[mononijikayu]

what are you doing new year's eve? ― nanami kento

The cafe was long behind them, and the echoes of jazz lingered in the little hums from her lips, accompanying them in their steps as they ventured into the winter night. In that quietude, they began leaving behind the remnants of that dance in the summer and that night in the jazz bar, stepping into the unscripted chapter that awaited them. Tomorrow was a new year, and in the cold winter streets of Copenhagen, both of them were certain—it was made for being together.

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Gen, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband;

WORDS: 5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i hope this makes up for the overtly sad sad stuff i write on here. this is a new year chapter for the new years!!! happy new year everyone!!! thank you for your support throughout 2023!!! let's be together happily in 2024 too!!!

main masterlist

what a wonderful world masterlist

malmö i mitt hjärta | what are you doing new year's eve

next: polaroid love

HE THINKS HE SHOULD HAVE WORN A WARMER COAT. Nanami Kento could feel his nose numbing as he tried to breathe air into his already exasperated lungs. He knew it was far too cold to wear this sort of coat. But he did not feel like going back into the house and scrambling through his winter clothes. He also did not want to see his grandmother fuss over him. She worries as much as his mother.

As much as he loved them both, he did not want them to worry too much about him. The cold could be bearable. But perhaps his restlessness was not. He needed to get out of the house. He just couldn’t take the four walls of his room anymore. He wouldn’t be able to bear it much longer.

The bitter wind, crisp and biting, meandered through the labyrinthine streets of Copenhagen, weaving its way around the ancient architecture that bore witness to the city's rich history. Each gust carried with it the distinctive scent of the nearby sea, a salty whisper that spoke of untold tales and distant horizons. In this Nordic city, where the air was charged with the essence of maritime adventure, Nanami Kento walked with purpose.

A year had passed since Nanami made the daring decision to sever ties with the tumultuous world of jujutsu. The echoes of battles fought and sacrifices made lingered in his memory, but the decision to leave it all behind had granted him a newfound sense of freedom. Seeking solace from the haunting shadows of his past, he found refuge in the comforting embrace of his grandparents' home—a haven nestled in the heart of this foreign land.

The cobblestone streets beneath his boots whispered tales of centuries gone by, and the vibrant hues of the buildings stood in stark contrast to the monochrome memories Nanami had left behind. In the midst of this cultural tapestry, he discovered solace, a respite from the constant turmoil that had defined his life.

As he walked through the city, the wind tugged at the collar of his coat, a reminder of the world he had chosen to leave behind. Yet, there was a promise in the air, an intangible current that hinted at new beginnings. Copenhagen, with its fusion of tradition and modernity, offered Nanami a canvas on which to paint the next chapter of his life.

Arriving at the doorstep of his grandparents' home, he felt the weight of the wooden door, weathered by time and stories. It swung open to welcome him, and the warmth within enveloped him like a familiar hug. The walls whispered tales of his own childhood, and the aroma of his grandmother's cooking wafted through the air, grounding him in the present.

In this foreign land, amidst the echoes of harsher winters than that of his own, Nanami discovered the beauty of starting anew. The bitter wind, though relentless, became a companion on his journey of self-discovery. As the sea-scented breeze caressed his face, he couldn't help but feel that, in Copenhagen, he had found a sanctuary—a place where the echoes of the jujutsu world could finally be drowned out by the soothing symphony of a city that embraced him without judgment.

It was a crisp winter morning, the kind that painted the world in hues of silver and white. Nanami Kento ambled through the narrow, quaint streets of the city, a foreign canvas upon which his footsteps left imprints of newfound freedom. The Nordic air, crisp and invigorating, filled his lungs with each breath, replacing the dense, suffocating atmosphere of the jujutsu world with the promise of serenity.

As he meandered through the snow-covered landscape, the weight that had burdened his shoulders for so long began to dissipate. The Scandinavian calm enveloped him like a soothing balm, soothing the wounds inflicted by battles fought and choices made. The city, adorned in its winter finery, seemed to cradle Nanami in its embrace, offering respite from the storm he had weathered.

Yet, in the quiet moments of solitude, Nanami couldn't escape the specters of his past. The thought of Mikoto Nobuhiko lingered in the recesses of his mind—the glistening eyes, the unspoken emotions that danced between them as they parted ways in the dorms. The memories of youth, now distant echoes, resurfaced, particularly the haunting image of standing before a cobblestone tomb where a dear friend rested, taken too soon. Nanami often found himself plagued by self-blame, haunted by the belief that he could have done more, that he could have altered the course of fate.

In the quiet of Copenhagen's winter, he couldn't shake the dreams of Yu Haibara and his infectious boyish smile. The gentleness that once defined Yu, stolen away by the unforgiving hands of the cruel world, haunted Nanami's subconscious. Yet, like a mantra, he reminded himself that those days were gone, a realm he could never revisit. The past, with its joys and sorrows, had become an unalterable tapestry that no amount of yearning could unravel.

Copenhagen, with its cold tendrils caressing his skin, became a sanctuary where Nanami sought solace. The chill, instead of biting, cradled him tenderly, a reminder that he had escaped the clutches of a world he could never truly leave behind. The city, with its ancient charm and modern allure, became a backdrop for Nanami's journey forward.

It whispered promises of a new beginning, a life unburdened by the shackles of the past. In the heart of Copenhagen, Nanami found relief, and as he navigated the snow-kissed streets, he embraced the present, determined to forge a path ahead—one guided not by regret, but by the gentle touch of a city that offered him a canvas upon which to paint the chapters of his rebirth.

The familiar street greeted him like an old friend, its cobblestones beneath his feet whispering tales of summer days gone by. Just a few months ago, Nanami Kento had wandered these same lanes during the summer break. The memories of those warm days lingered, woven into the fabric of the city's essence.

His grandfather, a jazz musician with a passion that spanned decades, had been a regular attendee of the music festival that graced the city every summer since the '70s. Kento, in tow, became a witness to the traditions that bound generations together. It had been a family affair, with his mother, equally enamored with jazz, usually accompanying them. However, that particular summer, his mother opted to spend time with his grandmother, leaving Kento with his father and grandfather.

As he traversed the familiar route, Kento couldn't help but reminisce about that summer day when the vibrant world of jazz had captured his senses. The infectious rhythm and soulful melodies had beckoned him, and he had surrendered himself to the music, if only for a brief moment. Little did he anticipate that this impromptu decision would act as a catalyst, altering the trajectory of his life.

The memories of that summer warmed his heart as he strolled through the well-trodden path. The city, once again alive with the spirit of jazz, seemed to echo with the tunes that had left an indelible mark on his soul.

And then, as if the city itself orchestrated a serendipitous encounter, he found himself standing in the same spot where destiny had intervened months ago. His gaze fell upon a young woman, her beauty transcending the ordinary. A wide smile graced her face, and her infectious laughter mingled with the music that enveloped the space. Her dress swirled around her as she danced with a partner, the joyous energy radiating from her like a beacon.

She fell into her partner's chest, laughter bubbling forth like a melody, and when she turned to face Kento, her eyes sparkled with an intensity that rivaled the sun. Before he could fathom what was happening, she took him by the hand, her eyes silently urging him to join the dance. 

A playful gleam lit up her eyes as she extended her hand toward him, the vivacity in her voice cutting through the ambient jazz notes. He felt hesitant for a moment, turning to his father and grandfather with sudden panic. He did not know how to react. They nodded at him, smiling and urging him forward.

The air was charged with excitement and vibrant wonder, and as the first notes of a jazz tune enveloped them, Kento couldn't resist the magnetic pull of the music and the enchanting woman who had chosen him as her dance partner.

"Come on, don't be shy! Let the music guide you," she urged, her grin infectious, and in that instant, Nanami Kento felt a magnetic pull that transcended both time and space.

Without a word, he took her hand, and as their fingers intertwined, an unspoken connection ignited. The jazz, a melodic symphony that seemed to resonate from the very heart of the city, served as the backdrop to their impromptu dance.

The crowded space with its eclectic mix of jazz enthusiasts faded into the background as they swayed and twirled to the rhythm of the music. The world ,with its indifference and worries, ceased to exist within the warmth of the shared moment. In the heart of Copenhagen, surrounded by the echoes of jazz, Nanami Kento and the mysterious woman moved in perfect harmony.

The music, like a benevolent guide, dictated their steps, leading them through a dance that felt both spontaneous and rehearsed. As they spun and dipped, the energy of the jazz festival enveloped them, creating a cocoon where the troubles of the past and uncertainties of the future held no sway.

The woman's laughter, a melody of its own, echoed through the cobbled streets, interweaving with the jazz notes in a harmonious dance. Nanami, typically reserved and guarded, found himself surrendering to the rhythm, losing track of time and space. For those fleeting moments, the weight of the jujutsu world, the ghosts of his past, all seemed to dissipate in the cadence of their shared dance.

As the final notes of the jazz piece resonated through the air, the applause of the café's patrons brought them back to reality. The woman, still caught in the joy of the dance, turned to Nanami with a bright smile. 

"That was amazing! Thank you for dancing with me," she expressed, her eyes reflecting genuine appreciation.

Nanami, a rare warmth lingering in his eyes, met her gaze. "No, thank you. It was a pleasure," he replied, a sentiment that transcended mere words. 

He tried not to be embarrassed as he stepped away from her and back towards his father and grandfather. They continued to clap and laugh and praise him for doing well. Father even bragged about having taken a video and promised to show it to his mother later. He groaned about it as they continued to walk off and go to the path towards the other jazz musicians.

He did not know if it was the Danish sun that was hot all summer that made him feel so warm.

But as he turned back, seeing the young woman smile and giggle.

He was certain that the warmth he felt would stay with him throughout.

The spellbinding dance in the heart of bright, sunny Copenhagen had not only offered Nanami an escape from his past but had also kindled a connection that felt destined—a dance of a lifetime that he would carry with him, a cherished memory of a summer's day in a city that had become his unexpected refuge.

Restlessness gripped Nanami Kento with an unyielding tenacity, casting a pervasive shadow over the edges of his solitude. Within the confines of his own thoughts, dark tendrils of contemplation writhed like wildfire, unwelcome and intrusive. He loathed this emotional turbulence, an unwelcome companion that had persisted, refusing to release its hold on him even after the passage of time.

Seated with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, Nanami took deliberate, deep breaths, attempting to quell the tempest within his mind. The warmth of the beverage offered a comforting contrast to the internal chill that clung to him. It was a battle against the relentless onslaught of thoughts, a struggle against the emotions that threatened to consume him.

In this moment of quiet reflection, he pondered the futile hope that distance could sever the ties to haunting memories. He had sought solace miles and miles away, yearning to escape the accusatory gazes that whispered tales of abandonment and the painful eyes that spoke the language of goodbyes.

As he sighed, the warm breath escaping his lips seemed to carry with it the weight of unresolved emotions. Nanami couldn't escape the relentless echoes of the past, and even in the sanctuary of a quiet corner with a steaming cup before him, the turmoil within persisted. The hot chocolate, a feeble antidote, offered temporary respite, but the battle against the haunting shadows of his thoughts endured.

It was a struggle against an invisible adversary, an emotional warfare that unfolded within the confines of his own consciousness. Nanami, with each deliberate sip, attempted to find solace, seeking refuge in the simple act of indulging in the warmth of his drink. Yet, the restlessness, like an indomitable force, continued to linger, an ever-present companion on his journey through the labyrinth of his own emotions.

The familiar walls of his grandparents' home, while comforting, seemed to close in on him, urging him to escape the confines of his own thoughts. Sensing his need for reprieve, his grandfather, a sage figure of wisdom and understanding, suggested a simple remedy—take a walk.

The time-worn walls of his grandparents' home, though steeped in familiarity and the embrace of cherished memories, now seemed to tighten their grasp on Nanami Kento. Despite their comforting presence, they took on an almost oppressive quality, closing in around him like silent witnesses to the turmoil within his mind. The quietude of the rooms, once a haven, now echoed with the resonance of unspoken thoughts, urging him to seek refuge beyond the confines of his own contemplations.

His grandfather seemed to recognize the restlessness that brewed within Kento's being. Perhaps his mother has felt this way before too. Grandfather smiled at him tenderly. He was like a sage whenever Kento looked at him. It was as though he was someone who years carried the weight of experience and the gentle wisdom of time. 

Certainly, he sensed the need for reprieve in his grandson's troubled heart. It was amidst this silent acknowledgment that the elderly patriarch offered a remedy as simple as it was profound—take a walk and relieve your heart with the sights of something else.

The suggestion hung in the air, laden with the unspoken understanding that sometimes, the remedy for a restless soul lay not in grand gestures or complex solutions, but in the simplicity of a deliberate step outside. The labyrinth of thoughts could often be navigated more effectively under the open sky, where the vastness of the world provided both perspective and solace.

Nanami, sensing the gravity of his grandfather's suggestion, nodded in silent agreement. It was a tacit acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that transcended generations—the understanding that, in the face of internal struggles, the wisdom of an elder could guide one towards a path of renewal.

As he stepped out into the crisp air, the creaking door behind him seemed to release not just his physical form but also the weight of his emotional burden. The world outside, bathed in the soft hues of daylight, became a canvas for introspection and healing. 

Nanami's footsteps echoed the rhythm of his contemplations, each stride serving as a subtle declaration of his intent to navigate the labyrinth of his thoughts with the simple act of walking—an age-old remedy, whispered from one generation to another, under the watchful eyes of time.

The winter air greeted him coldly as he stepped out onto the cobblestone streets of Copenhagen. With earphones in place, the soothing rhythms of bossa nova provided a backdrop to his aimless journey. Each step resonated with a silent yearning to untangle the threads of his restless mind.

The city unfolded before him, a tapestry of ancient charm and modern allure, and Kento wandered through its labyrinthine streets, losing himself in the rhythmic cadence of his footsteps. As the city whispered tales of its storied past, he meandered through the enigmatic alleys, the bossa nova notes acting as a companion to his contemplations.

However, fatigue eventually set in, and as if guided by an unseen force, Kento found himself standing at the entrance of a familiar courtyard. The air seemed to shimmer with a sense of déjà vu, transporting him back to the vibrant days of summer. It was as if the city itself conspired to lead him to this very spot.

Without much thought, he stepped into the charming café tucked away in the corner of the courtyard. The ambiance was a sensory symphony, the warm notes of a saxophone enveloping him like a gentle embrace. The air buzzed with the lively laughter and animated chatter of cafe-goers, creating an atmosphere that felt alive with shared joy.

Nanami chose a seat near the small stage, drawn like a moth to the enchanting voice of the singer who held court before a captivated audience. The music, a melodic potion, seemed to weave a spell around him, momentarily quieting the restlessness that had plagued his thoughts. The singer, with a voice that resonated with emotion and grace, commanded the attention of everyone present, casting a spell that transcended the ordinary.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the café and the entrancing melodies of the festival, Nanami Kento found himself once again caught in the embrace of the city's magic. The saxophone's soothing tones and the singer's enchanting voice served as a balm for his restless soul, providing a sanctuary where the worries of the world outside momentarily ceased to exist.

It was her, singing as though an angel sent from above.

Nanami Kento felt his lips part, but no words could come out.

He felt that same warmth, just as he had that summer's day in her arms.

As the musical crescendo reached its zenith, the singer's gaze, like a beacon in the dimly lit cafe, found Nanami Kento's eyes. In that ephemeral connection, a knowing smile graced her lips, a silent acknowledgment that transcended the audible notes and resonated with the unspoken language of their shared musical experience.

In that moment, it was as if a secret pact had been forged, sealed with the mutual understanding that they were both voyagers on a sonic journey, each note a stepping stone leading them to the heart of the melody.

The singer, bathed in the golden glow of the stage lights, seemed to surrender herself to the intoxicating passion of the music. Her eyes, illuminated with a spark of something indefinable, drank deeply from the chalice of its harmony, as if she were communing with a force beyond the tangible. It was a transcendent communion, where the boundaries between artist and art blurred, leaving only the essence of emotion that permeated the air.

For Kento, the allure of her presence became an irresistible force, a magnetic pull that tethered him to the heart of the performance. As he watched her, he felt not just the music but the very essence of her being infused with the atmosphere.

It was as though she and the music were indivisible entities, two sides of the same coin, each note an extension of her soul. In the canvas of the cafe, where the air hummed with the residue of melodies, life unfolded before him in the form of this captivating songstress.

The symbiosis between the singer and the music was palpable, a dance of mutual surrender. It was as though she embodied the very spirit of the composition, becoming the living, breathing manifestation of the melodies that cascaded around her.

The passion that emanated from her was contagious, and in that intimate space, Nanami Kento found himself caught in the intricate dance between artist and audience, the boundaries between their worlds momentarily dissolved.

In the presence of this goddess, life seemed to harmonize with the cadence of her voice. It was as though the cafe itself had become a sacred space, where the divinity of music and the essence of existence converged, creating a symphony that transcended the ordinary. 

In those moments, as the singer basked in the afterglow of the song's climax, Nanami Kento couldn't help but feel that he had witnessed not just a performance but a manifestation of life's profound beauty.

As the minutes stretched into hours, the atmosphere of the cafe transformed into a timeless realm where Nanami Kento found himself ensconced in the spell of both music and the captivating presence of the singer. The rhythm became a pulse, and time, a fluid entity that seemed to elude the constraints of the clock. She sang, her voice a melodic river that coursed through the air, and Kento, a willing captive, lost himself in the undulating waves of sound.

Her singing was a continuous offering, a stream of prayers that flowed from her lips, each note like a sacred incantation. Kento, seated in the audience, listened with a reverence that bordered on the worshipful. It was as though he paid homage to a goddess of music, and in the repetition of the praises, he found himself entranced by the enchanting cadence that echoed through the space.

In a serendipitous twist of fate, Kento learned that she was a last-minute replacement, a sudden vacancy in the band leaving them without a singer.

Her brother, a member of the jazz band, had called her at the eleventh hour to fill the void. She chuckled at the unexpected turn of events, downplaying the praises that showered upon her. She waved them off, saying she was no singer. That she was no professional.

Yet Kento, a discerning listener, recognized the truth in those praises. They all ring true. Her voice, a celestial melody that resonated with his very soul, had woven itself into the fabric of his being.

When the final notes of the last song melted into the ether, the cafe erupted in applause. The singer, basking in the aftermath of her musical journey, cast a gentle smile in Kento's direction. It was a moment of acknowledgment, a silent exchange that transcended the applause and connected them on a level beyond the tangible.

As she prepared to leave the stage, she thanked everyone for coming. She started to say goodbye to members of the band and grinned at them, joking with them for a bit and kissed her brother's cheek and left the stage. Her brother was doing the next set as just jazz music, and so the claps and cheers finished and began anew as the band started to play once more. The cafe had turned into the bar it was at night.

The warmth of the cafe–bar gave way to the chill of the outside world. Opening the door, she let out a disgruntled sound and started complaining about the winter cold with her thick She started to stepped out into the cold, fumbling with the buttons of her winter coat. In that transitional moment, as the boundary between the magical world of music and the reality of the winter night blurred, Kento felt an unfamiliar impulse surge within him.

Seizing the opportunity, propelled by a courage he hadn't known existed, he stepped forward to bridge the gap between their worlds. The cold air hung heavy with anticipation as he took a chance, driven by an urge to break free from the silent observer and become an active participant in the unfolding drama of the night.

"Wait," the words escaped Nanami Kento's lips, a sudden impulse that caught even himself off guard. The singer turned towards him, her eyes a curious but kind inquiry, as if the melody of his voice had woven its own verse into the lingering notes of the music. "I think I know you."

Her gaze studied his face for a moment before recognition sparked in her eyes, and a smile began to blossom on her lips. "I met you, this summer. Didn't I? We danced together, just nearby!"

A nod from Kento, his heart resounding with each beat, a rhythm echoing the memories of that summer encounter. "Yes, I just... I just thought I was mistaken."

Her grin widened, a playful glint in her eyes. "Well, you weren't. Good for you, hm?"

"I, uh... I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither," she responded, her hands finding refuge in her pockets, the winter air lending warmth to her words. "But my brother needed my help, and it's his last gig for the year. I thought I should help him out."

"I see."

"What's your name?"

"Kento," he replied, the syllables escaping almost too quickly for his liking. "Kento Nanami."

"Oh, you're Japanese?" A moment of realization crossed her features, and she gracefully bowed to him. Switching to Japanese, she continued, "It's nice to meet you."

Caught off guard, he reciprocated the bow, his face reflecting a mixture of surprise and astonishment. The unexpected reunion and the sudden switch to their shared language in the heart of Copenhagen added an unforeseen twist to the unfolding moment.

She giggled as she shared her name, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed as if Nanami was attempting to etch it into the recesses of his memory.

"I think I should go, Nanami—kun. After all, it's getting late."

"O-oh, uh... of course."

With a casual wave, she added, "Happy New Year, Nanami-kun."

"Happy New Year," he replied, the exchange marking a momentary farewell. Yet, just as she began to turn away, an inexplicable force pulled at him.

He called out to her again. That was what stunned him. He called her name by the pure, unexpected impulse. He did not know if she will turn around. But when she turned, still smiling, he could feel his heart pound so hard in his chest. It hurt to feel so warm inside, so almost exposed to the echoes of life. 

Yet he knew he wanted to be greedy, at this moment.

Nanami Kento thinks he will not be able to not speak his heart aloud.

Because deep within, he found himself reluctant to let her slip away. 

Scratching the back of his head, heat flushing his face, he mumbled, "I don't really do this, and I... I don't really know what will happen after I say it. But I just had to ask."

Her grin persisted, "What is it, stranger?"

"Would you like to have a meal with me?" He mumbles out, barely coherent. "Not here....just. Let's look for a place to eat at."

The question lingered in the air, suspended between the notes of the fading jazz melody, the enchantment of Copenhagen's winter night, and the thread of connection woven through their shared history of a summer dance. 

It was a daring proposition, an invitation that transcended the boundaries of the ordinary, as if the cafe–bar itself held its breath in anticipation of her response.

Her eyes, still carrying the sparkle of their shared memories, held a playful curiosity as she considered his invitation. The cafe and bar, wrapped in the quietude of the aftermath of the performance, seemed to wait with bated breath for her answer. 

The allure of possibility wafted through the space, a subtle hum in the air that resonated with the unspoken possibilities of a shared coffee, a continuation of a story that had begun in the rhythms of a summer dance.

She tilted her head, the smile on her lips carrying a hint of mischief, "Well, Kento—kun, I suppose it would be a shame to let such an unexpected reunion end so quickly, wouldn't it?"

Nanami Kento felt a surge of relief and excitement, the uncharted territory of possibility stretching before them. It was as though this moment just felt right. Everything he felt was right. Everything he felt about life shifted and changed and merged and broke. Everything in this moment was beyond comprehension. Everything about tonight was a once and a lifetime miracle.

"I'd like that," he replied, a sincerity in his voice that mirrored the warmth that had been kindled within him. "Very much."

She hums back, happily. "Hm, me too."

Their conversation, a delightful blend of laughter and shared memories, intertwined seamlessly with the enchanting atmosphere of the night. The lamplights cast elongated shadows on the cobblestone streets, creating an intimate tableau as they meandered through the city's silent alleys.

It was a dance of words beneath the glow, a choreography of sentences and responses that mirrored the ebb and flow of the moonlit waves on a distant shore.

The moon, a silent sentinel in the celestial expanse, bestowed its tender glow upon them, as if lending an ethereal blessing to this rendezvous. Its silver light, filtered through the winter night's breath, painted their silhouettes against the backdrop of Copenhagen's timeless beauty.

Underneath the moonlit canvas, they strolled with a leisurely pace, navigating the labyrinth of streets with no particular destination in mind. Each step was a sentence in the unwritten story of their night—a story that seemed to unfold organically, propelled by the magnetic pull of shared laughter and the quiet understanding that words could convey.

As they wandered, the city's pulse seemed to quicken, echoing the cadence of their conversation. The facades of historic buildings, adorned with tales of centuries past, watched over them like ancient guardians privy to the secrets exchanged in the moonlit embrace of the night.

The chill in the air did nothing to cool the warmth that radiated between them. Their breath mingled with the winter mist, creating an ephemeral veil around their steps. It was a dance of tenderness, orchestrated by the moon's watchful gaze and accompanied by the distant symphony of the city—footsteps on cobblestones, the occasional rustle of leaves, and the murmur of waves caressing the nearby shore.

As they continued to amble through Copenhagen's nocturnal embrace, the moonlight etched a silent poem in the sky, an ode to unexpected reunions and the timeless beauty of shared moments beneath its watchful eye. The city, in its slumber, whispered its approval, its ancient heart beating in harmony with the melody of their conversation. And in that tranquil interlude, two souls found solace in the delicate dance of words and the moonlit romance of a winter night in Copenhagen.

The cafe and bar was long behind them, and the echoes of jazz lingered in the little hums from her lips, accompanying them in their steps as they ventured into the winter night. In that quietude, they began leaving behind the remnants of that dance in the summer and that night in the jazz bar, stepping into the unscripted chapter that awaited them.

Tomorrow was a new year, and in the cold winter streets of Copenhagen, both of them were certain—it was made for being together.

fact about nanami and his wife this chapter: nanami's parents visited and attended a jujutsu sorcerer christmas party. his parents showed gojo the video of young nanami dancing with his wife in copenhagen. needless to say, nanami is not pleased. nanami's wife often comes to her brother's rescue when the singer of their band makes excuses. she has a really good singing voice and it helped nanami during sleepless nights or after a nightmare. she's been recruited a couple of times to be a professional singer, but she prefers writing! nanami's wife can speak japanese because her favorite uncle married a japanese woman. she wanted to be able to speak to her, so she and her aunt learned japanese and danish together. i always imagine nanami's wife's voice be like narumi from wotakoi while i write her dialogue. she sounds soft spoken but energetically bright to me. she was played by arisa date. here's a sample of narumi's voice. nanami's top three favorite music genre is hard rock, alternative rock and jazz. but he would listen to all types of music too. nanami's wife likes a lot of sorts of music, but she grew up around jazz, pop and ballad. the day of their wedding, gojo's present to nanami's wife was a giving her a flash drive of second year nanami kento singing and jamming out to evanescence's bring me back to life. his wife calls it the best video ever. nanami has tried to take the flashdrive but his wife has made subsequent copies! copenhagen is nanami and his wife's favorite city to be in whenever they're in denmark. its everything to them to be there on july, when the jazz festival happens when they first met and near new year when they had they met again. the years after this, when they confessed in snow flower, on new year's eve, when he and her came back to the jazz bar and ate at the same place as their first date as a couple.

[starlightlacrimosazpsff]

◇ 𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ◇

TO: @hollythius-rising EVENT HOSTED BY: @solarisfortuneia

SYNOPSIS:

The most renowned love stories tend to be about either whirlwind romances or heartfelt tragedies. A love brewed by fighting against all odds provides a sense of fulfillment after all the drama, the angst, the conflicts, and the memories. It is a buildup to the climax wherein the readers live vicariously, to see the leads achieve happiness after a lifetime of misery. However, in reality, many pairs of soulmates find peace in the simplistic beauty that life can offer. They fight when absolutely necessary to maintain the harmony that safeguards the fragile glass known as happiness. Amidst the trivialities, the foundations of felicity can be forged little by little; and what once served as mere frivolity becomes the profound bond of unconditional loyalty—the foundation of all true loves.

ENTRY TYPE: Event Submission, F!Reader

WARNING(S): mentions of abuse, mentions of violence, mentions of problematic themes, implications of neurodivergence, blood, unstable mental state, juxtaposed writing style, ambiguous relationships, slight toxicity, mild angst (because I need to sprinkle some even if my focus is fluff), author is sorry for submitting late, etc...

CHARACTER(S):

Diluc Ragnvindr, Alhaitham, Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax

•

•

•

•☆••☆••☆•

DILUC RAGNVINDR is a man of intrigue filled with mysteries hidden in the darkest shadows of the night. In a way, he is someone who breathes in contradictions as much as he lives in resolute convictions. He approaches life with a headstrong mind and steadfast heart, yet his soul tends to navigate a treacherous world by means of putting on masks infused with his spirit to distribute justice. The body born with the red hair of dawn and the crimson eyes of dusk takes flight as the firebird across the twilight. He honors the name of Noctua, which had blessed him at the tender age of 10. Despite his straightforward nature, his true persona is as elusive as any respectable gentleman with skeletons locked in his closet—or buried in Dawn Winery, for this case.

However, as expected of any formidable vigilante, there is one trustworthy confidante behind them. They are the precious secret keeper, the one to uphold the contingencies that shall be in play if the vigilante falls amidst disaster. In some cases, they stand as the one person who will remember the masked heroes for all their entirety and become their proof of existence.

For Diluc, that is you.

He had just become the Cavalry Captain of Ordo Favonius when he met you. The sight of you, a girl no older than him, battered and covered in blood was bone-chilling. He swiftly commanded the Knights of Favonius to escort you safely to Mondstadt, and led the caravan while ensuring your comfort. A peaceful smile was on your delicate lips even as tears poured down your cheeks. He asked for the reason behind your contradicting expression, bewildered and alarmed as he floundered on how to help you.

"Barbatos heard my prayers." You told him, "I am free now."

Diluc figured that is when his infatuation started with you. The years that had passed as you settled down into the city, the years that had passed after his departure from Mondstadt due to the death of his father, and the years that had passed when he returned...

None of it made a difference to what he feels for you.

If anything, the flames grew stronger and more adamant to have you.

As always, Diluc's nights conclude with a visit to your abode. After his nightly patrols, you are always the solace that awaits him. Whenever he tried to stop his visits, you will go to Dawn Winery yourself to ensure he took care of himself. He never wants you to ever risk yourself by travelling in the dark just to check on him, so he found it easier to just visit you after his patrols.

Sorry to have kept you waiting. Diluc seems to say whenever he finds you asleep on your couch, waiting for him all night. He would carry you in his arms, tucking you back to your bed. As he turns to leave, your hand would tug on his sleeve. His crimson eyes would see you awake, just barely to give him a pleading gaze and a dazzling smile. A part of him wondered if you dreamed of him all those years he had been away, utterly consumed by scathing grief. It made him ponder for how much longer he will keep you waiting.

I am fine, just stay with me. You seem to reply as you watch him discard his coat to join you. The line between friends and lovers blur for those nights of synchronicity. He would hold you until dawn, wherein the morning light would take him back to Dawn Winery. You wake up to an empty bed, yet the warmth soothes you despite his absence. You never complained nor expected more than what he could provide. You never tried to put a label to what you have. The important point is that Diluc always came to you, and that was all that ever mattered.

Please never let me go. Diluc was used to fighting his battles alone, yet he could never resist the allure of returning to you the first night you patched him up after a rough confrontation against a hoard of enemies. It yielded further moments wherein you would either prepare him a warm bath, or just patch him up with a few words of admonishment to be more careful next time. Every touch made him adore you, and every word made him admire you.

I am always with you. That was all you could truly offer to ease his suffering. You knew that your dear knight of dawn is broken, and pieces of him have permanently gone missing. He cannot be fixed and you do not seek to do it. You merely hold him, as his body was covered in gauze with his head on your shoulders. You do not speak of the tears you do not see as it soaked your dress, nor do you speak of the nightmares he confided to you past gritted teeth. I love you. Who will say it first?

"Honestly," you sighed, "your injuries tonight make me think you're doing it on purpose at this point."

Diluc almost smirked, "I suppose the notion is not too far off."

You plastered the adhesive bandage a little too harshly onto his chest, making him wince. He caressed the abused skin before putting on the spare shirt you gave him while you took hold of his cloak. You retrieved your sewing kit to repair the slight tear on the fabric.

"Don't even joke about that!" You scowled sternly, "What are you, a child? If you wish to see me, you ask for an invitation. Better yet, try to start a conversation. It feels as if you can only talk to me as the Darknight Hero and never as Diluc Ragnvindr."

He frowned confusedly, "What do you mean? If anyone knows all sides of me, it's you."

You raised a brow at him in challenge, "Oh yeah? Then why do you avoid crossing my path during daytime? Why do you only dare approach me during nighttime, away from any prying eyes?"

His lips part to deny your allegations but promptly close it when you point your needle at him. There was a stern glint in your eyes, the familiar fire that rivalled his own Pyro Vision. It makes him look away guiltily, fiddling with his ponytail as he released his hair from the tie. Seeing that he was not arguing anymore, you went back to your task as you continued to speak.

"I'm not one of those girls vying for your attention or anything," you said calmly, "but I won't deny that it grates on my nerves as I see you changing directions whenever you spot me en route. Then you come to my home as if it was like any other night."

You cut the thread as you finished stitching, glancing back at Diluc.

"Are you ashamed of me or something?" You asked bluntly.

"No!" He protested vehemently, "It's the total opposite."

A slight blush engulfed his face at the unwitting confession, but he does not correct himself nor take it back. You stared with wide eyes of awe and surprise, taken aback yet mostly amused. Rather than delving into it, you decided to keep silent as your eyes evaluated Diluc under a new light. You chuckled goodheartedly as you stood up, gesturing for him to do the same. Once he did, you help him put his coat back on and may have lingered to touch his arms. You were utterly shameless, grinning as he did not even tense up. It shows his familiarity with your caresses, even as you blatantly traced his shoulders to dust off some unseen lint.

"You owe me a date tomorrow then, Master Diluc~!" You whispered onto his ear.

Your cheeky remark ends with a chaste peck on his cheek, making the man look at you with a flustered astonishment. You giggle at his adorable expression, turning away to clean up the clutter in your living room. There was a sensual sway to your hips as you walked away, a soothing hum reverberating from your lips. This sight of you, bathed under the moonlight, felt so domestic and surreal to Diluc. Once again, he finds himself pining for a dream that could be just a step away from reality. He only needs to muster the courage to take that step, and you could be his for as long as you would have him in return.

Diluc yearns for you. He yearns for a future with you.

At the same time, he wonders if he could protect you beyond the clandestine moments shared with you. As he grabs your hand and twirls you into his arms, he found his answer by brushing his lips against yours with an intense look on his eyes.

"You missed." He retorts.

That was your first kiss with Diluc Ragnvindr.

"The wind wisps guided us, but the flame sprites united us."

•☆••☆••☆•

ALHAITHAM is a man of logic and rationality defined by the reasonable standards of routine. As an advocate of truth and wisdom, he has a thirst for knowledge controlled only by the disciplinary restraint of abstinence. This balanced mindset has earned him the title of Scribe within Sumeru's Akademiya, a well-maintained equilibrium between ambition and humility. Alas, this chosen lifestyle is not without its drawbacks to accompany the merits. Though this silver-haired scholar would argue that these cons are not truly detrimental, his peers would beg to differ when they tend to suffer said disadvantages more often than not. After all, the most brilliant geniuses tend to have quirks; and for this scholar hailing from the Darshan of Haravatat, it is his grievously cold-hearted personality.

His harsh disposition, more often than not, can be attributed to his analytical behavior. While he is not unsympathetic, Alhaitham is the type to prioritize facts over sentimental attachments. Because of this, most of his peers find it hard to get along with him.

That was, of course, until he was paired with you.

You had been desperate to find a decent roommate in the dormitories of the Akademiya, while Alhaitham wants a roommate whom would just learn to respect his supposedly strict boundaries. You heard from a friend about it and sought his contacts on the message board. You passed his initial assessment of you, and everything else was history.

Alhaitham was extremely meticulous of his space because he wants to be efficient with his time. That means every single thing in his home needs to be set in its place so a routine would remain undisturbed. If something goes wrong, it irritates him and it puts his mental facilities to work for something he deems could have been avoided. Despite his effective work ethics, he can be quite lazy in that regard. He does not wish to waste time and effort for someone else's incompetence, which people tend to find off-putting. However, you see it differently. He has his preferences, and it just so happens to be more thorough than most—which you respect.

For a while, you took the time to observe Alhaitham closely. It befuddled and agitated him at first, since there are times your glare could be quite piercing. If you had a problem with him, you should just say it. There are even moments when he thought you were stalking him. Alas, it was actually because you were taking note of his boundaries and his miniscule habits to adapt to them without compromising your own comfort.

Once the first week had passed, Alhaitham noticed your efforts blossom.

To his pleasant surprise, it even benefited him.

"[Name]," he called indifferently, "have you seen—"

"—your book on ancient runes?" You finished, "You left it on the couch when you got the emergency summons from your thesis professor. It was inspection day and I didn't want it to get confiscated, so I put it on the third shelf on the right with a disguised journal cover."

His sharp eyes looked at your precise directions. Lo and behold, there was his book—untouched and even bookmarked on the last page he left. It was a rather neat bookmark too, laminated autumn leaves and ferns with the Sumerian letters that spell your name on the paper base.

"You want one?" You asked, "I could make a custom design for you. I saw your old bookmark when I was cleaning the trash, and it will help keep your pages neat by not having to fold them."

Alhaitham stares at you with a calculative detachment, yet you did not miss the flicker of warm gratitude that you knew surprised even himself. He nods wordlessly while politely handing your bookmark back.

After you both graduated, it took little time for him to achieve the job of Scribe. Meanwhile, you ended up getting a job in Zubayr Theater to pursue the arts as a playwright. Much to Alhaitham's surprise, it had been your plan all along. Your time spent learning in Haravatat was to provide a deeper nuance to your stories by making use of ancient languages and inputting traditional designs onto your craftsmanship. It was an amalgamation of wisdom that you proclaim the sages have neglected, an artform they prohibit due to ignorance. As he read one of your plays on a whim, he begins to see you in an appraising light. In fact, the appreciative delight he felt in your texts was demonstrated by how he never misses a single play written by you when it is performed on stage.

You could not pinpoint when things began to transition from platonic kinship to romantic entanglement between you two. All you can recall is that Alhaitham invited you to live with him again.

"Don't you already have a roommate? Kaveh, was it?" You asked curiously.

Alhaitham scoffs, "He tends to get on my nerves a bit. Having you there would teach him a thing or two about respecting my space, and minding his own business."

You snorted amusedly but accepted his offer. You knew better than to question Alhaitham. Although you wanted to joke about whether he still has room in his house, you knew it will fly over his head. It would only be a leeway to roast you about how he would not have offered if he did not have a room unoccupied to accommodate you.

Henceforth, that is how you got your own key to Alhaitham's house.

It must have been quite a shock to witness for Kaveh, how you and Alhaitham seamlessly move around each other. You always rise an hour before Alhaitham's scheduled awakening in the morning. You bathe and keep the bathroom clean, with enough hot water for him to use. Then, you cook breakfast and brew his coffee with a specific mug he uses in the morning to keep track of his caffeine intake. Straight black and no sugar, but you will add two teaspoons of cream to ensure it does not scratch his throat. By the time he gets dressed, you have his meal set on the table right where his seat has a good view on the window. It was not the landscape itself but the sunlight that hits just right for him to read any book he currently fancies while he sat to eat.

Alhaitham will always clean his own dishes, which will leave you to double-check your things before you both leave for your respective jobs together. Kaveh gapes when he actually sees the silver-haired man help carry your things while you put on your shoes.

"Kaveh," Alhaitham said nonchalantly, "we're both going to be home late. Don't wait up."

You smiled warmly, "There's still food left for you if you get hungry. Oh, and—"

With no hint of shame, your hands patted Alhaitham down. Your calloused fingers rummage his pockets and retrieve his keys, separating the ones that belonged to Kaveh which got dragged with his own. The most astonishing is how the man remains unfazed by your casual yet intimate touches, even leaning into it.

"—here are your keys again!" You laughed as you threw them at the blond, "Honestly, I should get us some kind of key hangers to prevent this from happening."

"Do you want to go now?" Alhaitham asked smoothly, "I have some time."

"I don't have the money for it yet!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course, I'm paying."

Kaveh could only stare incredulously as he held his keys. He watches you both depart, voices fading behind the door and into the distance.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham all too chivalrously takes your hand in his as you both strolled down the streets. You hummed a familiar tune that you have been working to integrate on your next play. He takes note of it, subtly turning a vial in his headphones to record your voice. You did not stop him, eyes wandering to window shop.

"How was your latest research?" You asked.

"Troublesome," Alhaitham sighs lightly, "the scholars involved in it give me a headache."

You cooed, raising your free hand to sweep his bangs and massage his temple mildly. You stopped to focus back on walking but now allowed your fingers to stroke the callouses on the hand you held. Soon, he drops you off at Zubayr Theater and releases you from his grasp. You held back a smile, cheeks blushing, when he kisses the back of your hand before tracing your palm with his fingertips as he lets you go. For a moment, his intense gaze shimmered in a darker turquoise and vibrant rustic orange—reminding you of both the rainforests and deserts of Sumeru.

"I'll stop by in the library with tea and snacks for you." You mention.

Alhaitham gives you a fond smile, a privilege only ever meant for you.

"I would appreciate that." He replied.

"Be the oasis to my desert, the prized flower in my secret garden."

•☆••☆••☆•

CHILDE is a man that goes by many names, each with a role to play like a performer on a stage. Amongst all these aliases, one of them comes with a literal mask belonging to a Fatui Harbinger—Tartaglia, the Eleventh. He is the youngest to ever rise to such a status, and it was with good reason. With the exception of the higher-ranked Harbingers, his skills in the battlefield are practically unparalleled. Frankly, the only thing sharper than his twin hydro blades is his ambition for more power and worthy opponents. That is likely why he fit right into the standards of the Fatui, enough to please even the cold-hearted Tsaritsa whom is implied to have a soft spot for her Harbingers despite her loveless soul. As the person that grew up with him, you felt proud of him yet also concerned over him.

After all, regardless of everything, he remains as Ajax to you.

In a matter of three days, that Ajax lost the light in his eyes but you carried that light in your heart. It seems that was enough to you, and that was also reason enough for him to still come home to you.

"What gave you strength to return?" You asked delicately, "Three months in the Abyss only to realize Teyvat only missed you for three days, it must have been a tumultuous affair. What enabled you to gain power to rise above it?"

Childe looks at you with a wistful smile, eyes remaining dull. However, the touch of his gloved hand in yours displayed an everlasting bond while the other held the fishing pole.

"My family," he replied, "and you..."

You smiled fondly, sagging in relief. Ajax still lives even if his light has dimmed.

The times he returned from missions—covered in blood that you knew were a mix of his own, and that of another poor soul that has ceased to exist—were all vivid in your memories. The first few nights, your hands trembled; yet you showed no fear in your eyes as you gazed into those lifeless blues. He was still Ajax, whom just grew up for the thrill of battles and an ambition for chaos. When he smiles at his siblings, you feel his genuine love envelop the room and that is how you knew the existence of Tartaglia can never truly overcome Ajax. The light of a flame may extinguish, but the warmth of its existence shall leave ashes and soot—until the day it ignites again.

Wrapped in bandages, Childe pulls you into his arms and lies down on your bed. You let him do as he pleased, aware that once the high from the bloodbath is over for the Tsaritsa's Tartaglia...all that would be left is the turmoil of your Ajax.

"If you are bloodstained," you swore, "then I will wash you all clean."

His embrace tightens, cradling the back of your head to ensure you will not look at him. You close your eyes and sigh, pressing your ear against his chest. The thumping of his heart races slightly as the heat of your skin passes to his own, soothing the scars and invigorating his veins.

"That would make you an accomplice." He said huskily, "I don't want to taint you."

You laughed blithely, wriggling from his grip to lift your head and boop his nose.

"Silly, Ajax~!" You crooned adoringly, "Even the purest snow needs to get dirty to melt into spring; and even the clearest waters hold their secrets beyond what the eyes can see."

Your eyes gained a ruthless gleam that made Childe's breath hitch. Your fingertips traced his torso, dabbling on the line between his skin and the gauzes. Your hand wraps around his throat, not tight to suffocate but enough to make him feel the weight of its existence. It was not calloused from a lifetime of battles, but from years of labor within Snezhnaya's endless winter. Nevertheless, it felt soft and delicate compared to his own.

"Should the day ever come," you promised solemnly, "that Tartaglia devours Ajax within you, I would kill you myself."

Childe's eyes widened. For a second, the lost spark in his eyes flickered.

"Tainting me or not," you smirked meaningfully, "it was never a choice for you to make, Ajax."

In a matter of circumstance, you joined the Fatui with a determined glint in your eyes and a menacing sharpness in your serene smile. You were not empty or unfeeling, for you still shone with an unforgiving light that dismantled even the Harbingers to their core. You did not hold the same prowess as Childe did when he started as a recruit, but your potential was overflowing when it came to everything else. It took a matter of months before the Harbingers, excluding perhaps the Jester and Capitano whom had been silent, began fighting in a passive-aggressive manner in an attempt to have you as their subordinate. The Tsaritsa had been indifferent, though she did seem to smile when you met her eyes fearlessly after your paths briefly crossed in the Zapolyarny Palace.

The other Harbingers must have taken quite a hit to their pride when you chose to bend one knee—bowing only in front of the Eleventh, right where they can see you.

"This humble soldier swears allegiance to Tartaglia, Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers."

Childe gave a knowing smile, eyes flashing in appreciative endearment as he beholds your glorious form. He glances at his fellow Harbingers with a triumphant glare, brimming with possessive arrogance to which they all scowled. There was a palpable tension, a hint of envy to know that the lowest rank amongst them can encourage such devout loyalty. It was obvious there was something else to your relationship, but nobody could alas prove it.

"Rise, [Name]." He projects strongly, "This Harbinger acknowledges your oath."

Although you have joined his crusade in the Fatui, it did not mean you had to leave the place you have made for yourself in his family as his childhood friend. Since Childe made it clear he wishes to keep his real job a secret from the little ones, you also played your part in the secrecy. As far as his younger siblings are concerned, you are now an employee in Childe's toymaking company. In fact, you are the main designer of the toys. It is not too far from the truth since you end up being the one providing the toys to keep covering for Childe's lie. He knows engineering is one of your many talents, a reason why even Dottore and Sandrone had been very interested to have you as an assistant.

"[Name]," Teucer said when you joined their family for dinner, "when are you going to marry our brother?"

Childe ended up choking on his water, spilling it all over the table—much to his mother's chagrin. His father amusedly watches him struggle to regain his breath, patting his back in mocking consolation. You remain unfazed as you smiled at Teucer, whom sat on your other side. You chuckled as you grabbed the napkin, wiping away the crumbs and sauce on his youthful face. As Childe coughed into his elbow, he could not help but admire that maternal glow around you.

"When your brother asks, I suppose." You answered seriously.

Tonia squeals in delight while Anthon whistles, and Teucer celebrates by clapping his hands. All three glared at Childe expectantly while he stared at you, mouth agape and cheeks flushing in a rare image of flustered astonishment. His eyes seem to shake in unfathomable emotions, gulping dryly when you met his gaze with a challenging smile.

"It's getting late." His mother saves the day, "Ajax should escort [Name] back home."

His father smirked before Childe could agree, "Or [Name] could just stay the night like she always did when she and Ajax were younger. It's been a while since she has visited. It would be a shame for her to leave so soon."

Tonia nodded sagely, "I agree. Besides, maybe our dumb brother could finally pop the question if he gets used to sharing a room with his future wife again."

Just like that, the almighty Eleventh Harbinger got bullied by his own family.

In the solitude of his bedroom, you and Childe got dressed for bed with your backs turned to each other. Once done, you boldly embrace him from behind as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You lean your head against his while he sat hunched over the bedside, elbows on his knees. He sighs with an exasperated smile, tilting his head to look back at you.

"You have got to stop teasing me like that." He said.

You grinned smugly, kissing him passionately on the lips.

Friend, comrade, lover—the label matters not.

The absolute truth is that you are bound to be together until your hearts stopped beating.

"Beyond the gods I defy, my end shall come in your hands."

•☆••☆••☆•