#but also because she likes seeing azure be thoughtful

[chryzuree]

chrysi’s so enamoured w everything azure does, even to the most normal, everyday human things. like whenever he looks up while trying to remember something, all she can think of is how pretty he is when he’s thoughtful, how long his eyelashes are, how he’s fully engaged w conversing with her… she’s got it bad 🫶🏻

[chrollogy]

EPISODE 2: CHOCOLATE GONE WRONG

neuvillette x f!reader

NNN ‘24 masterlist | Next Episode

DETAILS: Neuvillette finds himself itching to break the sacred rule of No Nut November after naïvely indulging in aphrodisiac-laced chocolates gifted by Sigewinne—a popular craze among young Fontanian adults.

DURATION: 5.3k

CONTENT ADVISORY: explicit smut, mdni, porn without plot, p in v, creampie, neuvi has two cocks + emphasis on his draconic features, use of aphrodisiacs (neuvillette), neuvi uses his cane as a makeshift leg spreader bar, pet names (ma/mon chérie, ma belle, (my) love), not beta read

DIRECTOR’S NOTES: divider: cafekitsune. round 2! also i’m not quite sure i will get the next two fics out in time (or if i’m getting them out at all) but i will try my best T_T. your lil moon is having a rough patch rn so yeah but nonetheless enjoy!

For Neuvillette, the month of November was nothing significant to say the least—his job continued, overseeing trials, sorting out documents, meeting with important people, and more workload now that Lady Furina had stepped down from archon hood; so, when you had come into his office one day, talking about how a certain trend spread like fire across Teyvat, Neuvillette was rather intrigued.

It had a weird name—No Nut November—and couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea based on the name alone. He remembered how you explained to him Fontanians, and people of other nations were to engage in No Nut November which was to participate in sexual abstinence.

Naturally, the idea was all bizarre to him—not because he thought he couldn’t do it but more so the fact that it was natural for humans to engage in intercourse, same goes for his kind as well. Neuvillette couldn’t see the significance of such a trend, and why humans were participating but who was he to deny your proposal of a challenge? After all, there was no harm involved, he figured it would help him understand human customs a little better despite the it’s strangeness in nature.

Situated behind his desk, Neuvillette let out a deep sigh, letting the papers in his hand fall onto the wooden desk beneath before rubbing his temples. 

“Stressed, Monsieur?” A familiar, teasing voice sliced through the suffocating silence of the Iudex’s office. Neuvillette looked up from his desk, greeted by a friendly figure. The former was too focused on the case materials before him that he hadn’t realised the presence of another, “Wriothesley. I’m rather surprised to see you.”

The raven-haired male was clad in his usual attire, heavy obsidian boots sounding with each step taken against the carpeted floors.

“Ah, you’re not the only one.” Wriothesley chuckled, recalling his encounter with Sedene just mere seconds ago, who looked like she had just seen a ghost. Before Neuvillette could inquire about the sudden visit, the former beat him to it,

“Don’t worry, I won’t take up much of your time. I’m here because Sigewinne had given me an errand to run. She got these for you.” Taking a couple steps closer to Neuvillette’s desk, Wriothesley placed a small box atop the case papers. Carefully wrapped in an ivory satin ribbon, the azure container was adorned with intricate designs in gold that shone beneath the afternoon sun, neatly decorated chocolates peeked from the plastic window of the lid.

The Chief Justice subtly raised his brows in amusement, he wasn’t one to indulge in chocolate nor was he a sweet tooth but nonetheless, he appreciated Sigewinne’s thoughtful gesture.

“That is very kind, please thank her for me.”

Watching the way Neuvillette’s expression morphed into a naïve smile, Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, “Say, Monsieur, have you heard of the craze among young Fontanian adults right now?” He most likely already knew the Iudex’s answer to the question but what was life without a little teasing?

With how the popular sweet has been making rounds across Fontaine, it would be near impossible for anyone to be clueless about it but at the end of the day, Neuvillette was Neuvillette, probably the busiest man in all of Fontaine which is why Sigewinne had to intervene with the chocolates. The head nurse didn’t have to physically see the Iudex to tell how much he’s been overworking himself nor was a simple order from her was going to stop him.

So, what better way to disguise a remedy with something simple? Basically akin to administering medication to a pet concealed as a tasty treat

Sexual intercourse was the fastest—and best—way to relieve him of his stress. Sigewinne hoped for the Iudex to pardon her complete brazenness but he was as stubborn as a rock, and took her orders about resting rather lightly.

Naturally, Neuvillette shook his head with a light chuckle, a tinge of interest seeping its way into his skin, “I believe I’ve heard her talk about it but the details must have slipped my mind.” A subtle blush blanketed the Chief Justice’s pale cheeks at the mention of his lover, you. Wriothesley’s lips stretched into a teasing smile—one which the former paid no attention to.

 “Well, would you ever try an aphrodisiac?” At Neuvillette’s baffled expression, the younger male bit the inside of his cheeks, biting back a hearty laugh. 

“An aphrodisiac, you say? Substances that—” “That increases one’s libido, yes.” Wriothesley cut him off, tease practically dripping from his tone. Neuvillette was a man capable of many things, an esteemed individual once he’s in court but when it came to much simpler matters, the Chief Justice was nothing but clueless, especially regarding human customs that are a bit harder to wrap one’s head around.

“I’m afraid I have no such time for trivial things.”

The Iudex shook his head once more, this time dismissively waving a gloved hand at his friend. He cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks deepening into a crimson hue—Neuvillette wasn’t going to say it out loud, especially not in front of Wriothesley but he deemed himself more than capable of maintaining his sexual desires and performances, you were enough proof.

Wriothesley left it at that, his friend may just end up as red as a tomato if he prodded around the topic any further. Needless to say, amusement filled him to the brim, “Alright. It was nice chatting with you Monsieur. I believe Sigewinne also left a small note there—”

The latter looked down at the box. Indeed, there was a small piece of paper neatly folded and tucked beneath the ivory ribbon.

“—do heed her letter.” With that, Wriothesley dipped his chin, sauntering over to the double doors.

Reaching for the handle, the Duke stopped in his tracks, he looked over his shoulder, icy cerulean gaze full of mischief, “Oh, and I hope you two enjoy—the chocolates, I mean.” With that, he left the office, leaving Neuvillette to his thoughts.

The day went by rather quickly, the azure skies turning into golden hues of oranges and yellows as the sun bid farewell to its people, disappearing below the horizon. The chocolates from Sigewinne remained untouched on the corner of Neuvillette’s desk, it watched as stars decorated the night sky; though, as the Chief Justice retired for the evening, he grabbed the box of sweets before heading out.

Neuvillette figured he’d share them with you at home.

Greeted with silent darkness, he was suddenly reminded of your words this morning at breakfast: ‘Oh, I have work dinner later, my love; so, I won’t be eating here. We’re celebrating a company milestone.’ Conveniently enough, Neuvillette had already eaten at his office before leaving so he won’t have the pleasure of sitting across an empty seat at the dining table.

Getting ready for the chilly night ahead, Neuvillette changed into his evening attire after taking a warm bath, he donned silken azure pyjamas paired with a fluffy ivory robe. His silver strands cascaded down the length of his spine, the cerulean bow, and golden hair clips he usually wore were neatly tucked away inside his jewellery box.

Situated on the love seat, Neuvillette casually flipped through case documents inside a brown paper folder. The fireplace across him was ablazed with hues of oranges and reds, casting a citrine glow upon the dimly lit living room. As flames danced atop dry wood, the dulcet sound of classical music poured from the record player, filling the space with its tunes.

After minutes of skimming and scanning the documents, he reached for the box of sweets next to his lap, taking time to read Sigewinne’s carefully written note:

Monsieur Neuvillette, I’ve acquired these sweets for you, and her! I figured these would help you loosen up a little so please do not shy away from consuming as much as you want. Make sure to share them with her as well. Enjoy!

Love, Sigewinne

A warm smile spread across Neuvillette’s face, and despite his better judgement of waiting for you to come home and indulge in the taste of chocolate together, he figured one piece wouldn’t hurt to try alone, right?

With the moon high up in the obsidian night sky, you walked down the cobblestone footpath that led closer to yours and Neuvillette’s shared space, the evening breeze gently caressing the apple of your cheeks. Work dinner had just concluded at Hotel Debord which housed a lovely singer who put on a dazzling performance.

By now, the streets of the Court of Fontaine were more deserted as people retired to their homes for the night, shop owners here and there packed away their respective signage, their stores devoid of any customers.

With each step leading closer to home, you soon found yourself in front of your home, keys jingling between your fingers as you unlocked the front door. From the entrance hallway, warm hues greeted you like an embrace, hinting at the ablazed fireplace in the living room.

“My love? I’m home.” You called out to Neuvillette while skilfully removing your shoes, and neatly placed them beside his own.

Met with silence, you figured he either must be occupied with something or must have fallen asleep while waiting for your return. You sauntered over to the end of the entrance hallway, making your way to the living room, and as you got closer, melodic sounds engulfed your senses—you recognized it, Neuvillette’s favourite classical music.

Turning the corner, you were greeted with a rather interesting sight, a wave of concern washing over you,  “Neuvi—Are you okay?”

Seated on the love seat was Neuvillette, his left elbow propped on its arm rest, face hiding behind his hand. A deep crimson blush painted his handsome face, intensified by the reds and oranges that the fireplace emitted. He sat there looking flustered, chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. Drinking in the view, you noticed documents sprawled across the empty space next to him but what really caught your eye was the intricately designed box resting on his right thigh.

The box had its lid intact yet the loose ivory ribbon draped over his thigh hinted he had previously opened it. Upon closer inspection, you realised it's familiar packaging, a co-worker had shown it to you the other day, telling you how her and her boyfriend have been dying to try the popular chocolates—chocolates laced with a potent aphrodisiac. 

Your gaze made its way back to Neuvillette—who was still breathing heavily on the love seat—now noticing the prominent tent beneath his silken pants, the azure fabric was flimsy and delicate which left little to your imagination. Pushing away the impure thoughts that snaked its way into your mind, you kneeled before your lover with a concerned expression,

“My love, who gave these to you?”

Knowing Neuvillette, he most likely consumed the chocolates without knowing its true contents simply because he wasn’t aware of the trivial things that humans indulged themselves in.

He let out a pained groan, shaky and vulnerable as he shifted in his seat, “Forgive me, ma chérie. This is improper of me.” With trembling hands, Neuvillette covered his throbbing groin, completely embarrassed that you had to see him in such a state. Truth be told, he didn’t know what came over him—a chocolate or two was all he had, and the next thing he knew, his skin burned like a thousand suns as blood rushed down, down, down to his cock.

The very core of Neuvillette’s body churned with desire—carnal desire—and as each second passed, each tick of the ivory wall clock, the uncomfortable yearn between his legs grew. A light sheen of sweat coated his feverish forehead, as though he was experiencing a fever, and whatever this was, it heightened all five of his senses.

From your voice sounding like it dripped with pure honey, all the way to the saccharine scent of your body, Neuvillette was driven mad with lust. It didn’t help how you kneeled before him, and gently caressed his thigh, a poor attempt of comfort because it brought nothing but waves of icy shudders down the length of his spine. Sensitive. His body was completely sensitive to any external stimuli, and if you rubbed his leg any further, he might just come undone.

An embarrassing thought.

Neuvillette was pathetically needy. How preposterous, the high esteemed Iudex of Fontaine reduced to nothing but a lust-driven man eager to shove his aching cock deep in your velvety walls. The subtle buck of his hips against the thick air; the way he swallowed breathless whimpers at your touch; the violent throbbing between his legs, he was beyond irredeemable.

With another grunt, Neuvillette panted out, “Sigewinne gifted them. Wriothesley had delivered it to my office this afternoon.”

Truth be told, you weren’t surprised. At all.

Standing up from your spot, you walked over to the wall phone. You tried your best to ignore the dainty whimper that fell from Neuvillette’s lips as your warm touch left his thigh, you also tried to ignore how his body involuntarily sought you out—trembling hands reaching to chase your gentle hold.

With glassy eyes, Neuvillette watched as you deftly dialled on the phone, he couldn’t help but trace your breathtaking figure, from the square of your shoulders all the way to the curves and dips of your legs. Oh, the things he’d do to spread them open, and inhale your sweet essence like a mad man. Neuvillette could practically taste your honey on his tongue, its velvety texture sliding down his throat.

Another groan escaped your lover at the thought of eating you out, his cock rubbed against the fabric of his underwear as it shamelessly twitched beneath his pants.

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d be calling given the . . . circumstances.” Of course Wriothesley knew. Pure tease dripped from his honeyed voice, most likely paired with a smug smile, and an icy, taunting gaze.

“Why would you give him that?!” 

A chuckle from the other end of the line, “First of all, I just delivered the present. Our head nurse here bought it. She’s helping Monsieur Neuvillette out.”

You huffed, trying to make sense of Sigewinne’s motives, “By what? Feeding him chocolates with a potent substance?” You’ve always adored how Sigewinne cared for her loved ones, especially Neuvillette—whatever one’s deal was, she was always willing to help out in her own unique way. But this . . giving him such a substance without any warning felt like foul play, and not only was Neuvillette receiving the short end of the stick, you were as well.

You weren’t naïve, aphrodisiacs only wore off after one has reached their satisfaction through sexual means, like quenching one’s thirst. 

“You’re making it sound like we gave him drugs.” “It is drugs, Wriothesley!”

Before you could say anything else, gentle, yearning arms wrapped around your front, caressing your stomach which ultimately caught you off guard. Neuvillette. Nuzzling into the junction of your neck just beneath the telephone against your ear, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive spot, soft smacks of his lips loud enough for Wriothesley to pick up.

You bit back a moan, free hand coming up to rest on the wall to support your weight. Neuvillette’s kisses had your legs trembling, it left prominent goosebumps in its wake as he trailed further down to your shoulder blades.

“Hm. Looks like it's time for me to go. Pass on my best wishes to Monsieur Neuvillette.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

“My apologies, ma chérie. I just—I need you.” Neuvillette sighed, hot breath ghosting over your bare skin, akin to a gentle caress coaxing you into the borders of lust, like a lone finger protruding from the darkness, beckoning you to its endless, sinful void.

“Love—mhm!” You let out a yelp, his hands finding comfort on the curve of your hips, keeping them still as he slotted his clothed cock between your ass. Neuvillette grinded into you, unshameful and devoid of any decorum. Placing the telephone back on the wall, your nails dug into the hearts of your palms, just the feel of his hard cock had you embarrassingly wet already.

Neuvillette was different from this, despite his sexual urges, he was never forward with you, he took his time—sensual and sincere, treating you like the finest piece of gold to ever exist. But saying you weren’t enjoying his brazenness would be a complete lie. Seeing a different side to your lover put you in a rather sensitive state, almost like a virgin bedded for the first time.

Something primal had awoken deep inside his core, and the only way to handle it was to satiate his carnal thirst.

Nonetheless, you tried to get your point across, “Neuvi . . What you’re experiencing is the effect of an aphrodisiac from those chocolates Sigewinne gave you.”

Your words fell deaf on his pointed ears, instead, Neuvillette mumbled some of his own, “I’m sorry . . Ma belle, I promised you about that challenge but it seems I cannot fight my urges any longer.” Another shaky sigh left his rosy lips.

Challenge? Oh.

Oh.

Even in his lust-driven state, Neuvillette was still thinking about the No Nut November challenge you had proposed earlier this month.

“I’m a man of my word but I need you, my love. Let me break the rules just this once, please?” Pure desperation coated every word that came out of his mouth. It was thick like honey, and melted on your skin like snow. God, at this point the stupid challenge wasn’t even on your mind anymore, not when he desperately humped your ass like an animal in heat—quick, little ruts of his hips that soothed the ache a bit better.

Who were you to deny your lover?

The transition from the living room to the shared bedroom was a blur—everything was hasty; desperate hands exploring each other’s bodies; lips sealed together in a rough, passionate kiss; a trail of clothes messily discarded on the floor leading up to the room. Everything Neuvillette did had you on your toes, completely breathless while trying to mirror his hurried actions.

Normally, Neuvillette would bask in your serene glory, peeling clothes off from your body layer by layer, and decorating your exposed skin with butterfly kisses. He’d gently stroke your hair, slender fingers weaving through the strands as he takes in your bare beauty.

Now, his tongue swiftly explored your mouth—lengthy and thick—something he has never done before. It dizzied you.

You landed on the foot of the plush mattress with a soft gasp as Neuvillette pulled away. Breathless and flustered, you stared up at him through your lashes, soft pants escaping your kissed lips. The sight before him made his cock twitch. How your hair was splayed around your head, mimicking a soft halo, a divine being greater than he.

Neuvillette discarded the last two pieces of clothing—pants and underwear—in one fell swoop, and what came into view undoubtedly had you clenching around nothing. Standing proud and heavy at the base of his abdomen were his cocks, both painted in a deep vermillion hue, and generously leaking pre-cum. The sticky pearlescent substance coated his bulbous tips, it glistened beneath the moonlight, beckoning you to wrap your lips around them, and have a feast.

This wasn’t the first time you saw Neuvillette naked nor were you not aware of his kind but it always brought you shock every time, not to mention the faint cerulean scales the underside of his cocks boasted, it was also his sensitive spot.

Stepping out from the puddle of fabric around his ankles, Neuvillette did the same to your undergarments, mindlessly tossing them elsewhere in the room. A low growl sounded from his chest as he pried your legs apart, his deft hands guided them to bend at the knees while resting the soles of your feet on the edge of the mattress, putting your glistening cunt on full display.

In less than a heartbeat, Neuvillette was on his knees, his eager tongue lapping along the length of your slit, your arousal pooled at the tip of his tongue like sinful honey, the divine taste of your cunt prompting another shameless growl from your lover. He repeated the movement a couple of times, each lick reaching closer and closer to your sensitive clit, and when he finally reached it with his hardened tongue, you let out a surprised gasp.

“Neuvillette!”

Shocks of electrifying pleasure kissed its way up your spine as Neuvillette tongued at your swollen bud—tight, fast circles, up and down, side to side, he toyed with you like it was the only thing he knew how to do. Your hands immediately flew to his ivory tresses due to his ministrations, it was almost like playing a game of tug of war, indecisively pushing and pulling his, unsure if you wanted more or if you wanted him to stop and slow down.

Lewd, wet smacks of Neuvillette’s tongue mixed with his low growls filled the room, allowing you to bask in the sounds of pleasure your lover unabashedly made. Almost akin to a vicious beast swallowing down its prey.

As your back arched off the mattress, and the grip on Neuvillette’s hair tightening, he pulled away, earning a rather disappointed whine to fall from your lips. Sweet arousal abundantly coated his lips and chin, bringing warmth to your cheeks. No one in the room dared to say it but this was the first time your cunt got embarrassingly wet, not that Neuvillette was inadequate in bed per se but you were wetter than usual, and you were confident that he had also noticed.

The glow of his lilac eyes and cerulean feelers were proof enough.

Standing up to his feet, Neuvillette languidly stroked the cock that sat beneath the other one, an immodest gaze raking over your sopping cunt, and how it shamelessly dripped with sticky arousal enough to soil the ivory sheets beneath.

“Are you ready, ma chérie?” Neuvillette’s lilac stare captured you in a haze, absentmindedly nodding at his words as though you were rendered speechless.

He slowly rubbed the tip of his bottom cock before pushing it past your soaked folds, it eagerly swallowed him in—a loud, shameless squelch filling your ears as he stretched you open further. Your toes curled at the sensation, hips immediately bucking into him as you moaned his name. The stretch was a pleasurable burn, one that had you rolling your eyes back, and digging your nails onto the sheets a little harder. Neuvillette was able to easily slip into you, courtesy of the plentiful slick that coated your velvety walls.

Neuvillette stilled as he bottomed out, quick, short pants falling from his rosy lips. God, you always took him so, so well, he could never get enough of the feeling of warmth wrapped around his cock. You took this time to get used to the stretch, your muscles relaxing to lessen the resistance he felt. Neuvillette filled you up so well you could almost feel him in your stomach—a thought that had you clenching around him.

One, two, three seconds later, Neuvillette slowly pulled back, letting out a shaky breath at the pleasurable sensation. And with only his cock head inside you, he took no time to slam all the way inside. You moaned, hands flying to his bare shoulders, immediately marking his pale skin with crimson stripes. Neuvillette unabashedly keened at the clench of your cunt around him, knees buckling as you gripped his cock like a vice, making it harder for him to move in and out.

“Haah! Mhm! Neuvi—right there, my love!” Colourful moans and whimpers urged Neuvillette on, dragging him further and further to the state of insanity. “You feel divine, ma belle . .” The words came out as a choked sob—pathetic and dainty. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead paired with a deep crimson blush that painted his cheeks, if anything, Neuvillette looked absolutely ethereal in this state despite how out of it the aphrodisiacs made him.

Not only were his cocks extra sensitive to touch but he could also perfectly smell the scent of your sex that lingered in the air. That sweet, sinful aroma he knew oh so well.

It made his head spin.

He tried holding back, he really did but your dulcet moans stroked his growing ego, and the feel of your sopping cunt deliciously sliding against him, the last thread of sanity that held him snapped.

Violently.

As if he saw nothing but bright hues of ruby, Neuvillette picked up his pace, long thrusts quickly turning into short ones as he mercilessly pistoned his hips over and over again, allowing his cock head to reach your sweet spot. Your fingers raked down the length of his spine—leaving violent ribbons of red in its wake—stopping right at the dimples of his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you dug onto the pale skin there. Neuvillette wasn’t the only one on the brink of insanity with how the underside of his other cock furiously rubbed at your swollen clit with each thrust, it rested at the hood of your cunt, thick and heavy.

“S-so good! It feels so good—ngh!” The thrust of his hips felt amazing, too amazing to the point where your body started to reject them. Your body entered fight or flight mode, parted knees instinctively closing together which only allowed an inconvenient amount of room for Neuvillette to move with.

Upon noticing the change, he slowed down, sweaty palms resting on either knee, “My love—haah . . Open up for me, would you?” Winded and weak, Neuvillette attempted to pry your knees apart to no avail considering his mushy state.

“Too much, mon chérie . . I—I can’t.” Neuvillette shook his head at your words before pulling out, leaving you confused and empty. From the mattress, you watched as he sauntered over to his side of the bed, grabbing a lengthy, obsidian object that rested against his nightstand. Before a question could even formulate in your mind, he returned to his spot in the blink of an eye; though, this time, with something in his hand.

A cane—his cane. The same one he used during court proceedings, in that context, it was deemed a sacred symbolism of his authority as the Iudex of Fontaine.

To use it in such a setting would be borderline blasphemy.

Hovering over your trembling body, Neuvillette placed chaste kisses on each knee, “Do you trust me, my dear?” Was that even a question? Of course you did. He wouldn’t harm you and you believed that completely.

With a soft touch, Neuvillette was able to easily pry your knees apart, the scent of your cunt once again filling his senses. He wordlessly slotted the obsidian cane beneath your knees, its surface cool against your feverish skin, you shuddered at the contrast in temperature. Neuvillette pushed down on the shaft of the cane, bringing your knees closer to your chest—you also noticed how it kept your legs still, meaning you had no option to close them.

You whimpered at the slight burn the position invited, especially with the cane pressing down on your soft skin. And once again, Neuvillette sheathed his cock inside your cunt before setting the same merciless pace. Only this time, you wouldn’t be able to deny him.

“Neuvi! Neuvi! Neuvi—aah! Fuck—mhm!” You held on to the ivory sheets above your head for your dear life as Neuvillette roughly pistoned his hips. With each relentless thrust given, your body jolted further up the mattress, breasts bouncing in full display for your lover to drink in. Oh, how he adored the way your naked body moved and reacted to him, so plush and pliant.

Sharp hisses from the bed frame interlaced with the pornographic sounds of your moans, creating a lewd melody for the moon to witness, a sinful song only for the darkness of the night to hear—full of heat and passion.

“Does—ngh! Does it feel good, my love? Will you give in to the—haah! To the pleasure I’m giving you?” Neuvillette curled over himself, tresses of ivory cascading down to cage your face as he leaned closer to you. Despite the blur of your vision, you noticed the faint azure scales that decorated the side of his neck along with his pupils becoming more animalistic.

Neuvillette’s draconic features only ever made itself known during his heat; so, this came as a genuine surprise to you. Not that you were really complaining.

His hand remained on his cane while the other found comfort on your hip, subtly guiding your body onto him to meet each thrust. Neuvillette met your gaze through a glossy stare, you watched as beads of crystalline-like tears formed on the corners of his eyes, eventually rolling down his reddened cheeks. The sight before you was beyond divine, it wasn’t every day one would see the Chief Justice in such a poor state, his usual expressionless face painted with a colourful expression.

One that unmistakably screamed how lost he was in pleasure: rosy lips parted to let out soft whimpers, brows tightly knitted together, creating a deep crease between his brows.

“Are you close ma chérie? Mhm—aah! Come with me?” Neuvillette breathed out. It took all of his will power to hold himself up, and keep his hips moving due to immense pleasure weighing on his body like a great burden. The feeling had him trembling to his very bones, like a yellow autumn leaf braving the evening winds, and no matter how much his brain screamed at him to stop, he didn’t.

The pleasure would be too great of a loss if Neuvillette stopped now; so, he kept going—pounding, rutting, and grinding into you as he chased both your impending orgasms.

You nodded vigorously, throat too dry from all that panting to choke out any coherent words. The burn of the position you maintained mixed with Neuvillette’s cocks stimulating your cunt sent you into a painful yet pleasurable overdrive.

Without a second thought, you hastily placed your hands between your bodies, blindly seeking out Neuvillette’s other cock, and wrapping your fingers around it. To the best of your ability, you vigorously pumped his shaft, matching your strokes with his thrusts.

Neuvillette shuddered, releasing a loud moan into the damp air. After a few more quick thrusts, he stilled deep inside you, sealing his lips with yours as you both reached your climax, eagerly swallowing one another’s lewd moans. Your back arched off the mattress, toes curling, and fingers digging into Neuvillette’s skin as you violently came, the feel of his thick, hot cum painting your plush walls white had your hips bucking into him, begging for more.

Embarrassingly enough, Neuvillette came a lot. Not only inside you—to the point where it spilled out of your cunt and onto the sheets below—but also on you. The cock you’ve been stroking spurted thick ribbons of cum on your abdomen, abundantly covering your skin in his essence. He looked at the filthy art that decorated your skin, colourful curses enough to make Fontainians gasp in shock filled his mind.

How beautiful you were marked by him.

“Did I hurt you in any way?” He asked, slowly peeling himself away from you. Neuvillette made sure to quickly remove his cane from under your knees, placing it flat on the floor before tending to you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, and pulled your bodies up the mattress with your head atop the fluffy pillows.

“Not at all but I have to say, I was reaaally looking forward to completing the challenge, mon chérie.” You joked, letting out a breathless laugh.

Neuvillette blushed, suddenly remembering how he readily accepted the proposal of your challenge . . What was it again? No Nut November?

“Another year is to be expected, I am determined we will overcome the challenge.” And you were looking forward to that. Very much so. You just hoped he wouldn’t consume another aphrodisiac-laced sweet in the coming year so the both of you could actually complete the challenge.

Well, at least you concluded that Neuvillette and aphrodisiacs weren’t such a bad match, right?

Looks like you had a certain head nurse to thank. —

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[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (11)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: Omg guysss it's been months but here it is!!! I'm so happy and excited to share this chapter ❤️ Things are slowly coming to a close with this story, but don't you fret because there are still some big plans 👀 The POV bops around a little in the chapter because I just want to capture a lot. Well, enjoy!! Thank you for waiting for me :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

Nesta Archeron was glaring at you from the other side of the room. The icy stare was a stark contrast to the warm, jubilant nature of those around you, and you found yourself continuously edging into Azriel’s side to avoid the harshness. If the Shadowsinger noticed your growing distress—which you were sure he did—he didn’t make it known. He only allowed you to get closer, subtly shifting his arm to accommodate your movement. 

Feyre was speaking on the other side of you, retelling a light-hearted story about the creation of her art studio. You had been part of the construction and she was more than happy to share that information with you. 

Meeting her had been immeasurably easier than meeting Nesta. 

“I’m so happy you’ve been feeling well enough to do this,” Feyre smiled, her hand on your arm starling you out of your game of avoidance. “I’ve missed seeing you. I know we all have. Elain was furious that she couldn't make it. She got caught up on the outskirts of the continent with Lucien.” 

You took a calming breath in through your nose and shifted your gaze away from the chair Nesta was occupying. “Lucien?” 

Azirel’s low tone rumbled at your shoulder. “Elain’s mate. He has an interesting story. I’ll tell you more about it later.” 

And you trusted that he would. 

Since the night the two of you shared, Azriel had become an open book. He had spent half of that night making you privy to the story you shared—how you met, how the bond snapped, and his subsequent idiocy of keeping it from you while you knew the entire time. That point had sent you into a fit of laughter because obviously you would have known. Your magic revolved around parsing out lies and secrets. 

Coming to terms with that truth also helped you better understand the bond itself. 

Azriel had explained that the cauldron found mates in equals, pairing the souls of those that matched. It had been confusing for you to make a connection between Azriel and yourself. He was an Illyrian with forceful wings and so much power that it needed to be contained in the azure siphons lining his body.

But then, on a particularly quiet night, Azriel had shared his role in Rhysand’s court. His words had been cloaked in reproach as if sharing that piece of him would send you running. You had listened with rapt attention and pieced together the truth of your bond. 

Azriel was the spymaster, and you were the truthteller. 

It also helped—presumably—that Azriel had gotten into the habit of telling you how much he loved you. Regularly.

He never expected anything following his declarations and never even gave you enough time to think of a response, but he said the words so openly. Handing you breakfast, taking a walk along the Sidra, in between stories from your life; Azriel always said I love you as if he didn’t mean to, like he was making up for lost time. 

You hadn’t said it back yet. 

Maybe you’d thought it. 

“There’s also a book club that I know has been eagerly waiting for your return—” 

“So you’ve really lost your memory?” Nesta’s biting tone cut her sister off. You snapped your gaze over to the piercing eyes you’d been avoiding. 

“Um—”

“Rather convenient, how cuddled up you are with the spymaster when the rest of us haven’t even seen you. What progression does that show?” 

“Nes,” Cassian chided from beside her. 

Something heavy made your chest hurt—embarrassment, you parsed out. You leaned away from the warm chest you found comfort in and glanced at Cassian’s exasperated expression as he stared at his mate. 

“What? You all have been hiding her away with your typical ploy of protecting her. Why hasn’t she been training with the Valkyries? Who gets to decide when she’s let out for a walk? I presume Rhysand is one of her handlers? I’d ask him but he refuses to speak to me about it and doesn’t show his face unless absolutely necessary.” 

“That’s enough,” Azriel cut through. You’d put about an inch of space between the two of you and the missing contact was glaringly apparent. 

“Is it? You’re making her weak.” 

“Nesta, we weren’t here the first time this happened. We have no idea what she needs,” Feyre argued, squaring her shoulders towards her sister. 

Nesta only scoffed. “Well, clearly, she needs something else because she still has no memory.” 

“I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but cool it,” Cassian commanded. 

Sharp features ran over your form, analyzing your every move as the conflict continued. You felt exposed, belittled under Nesta’s gaze, and the fae only sharpened the lines of her eyes the more you squirmed. Azriel closed the space between you again, covering your knee with his hand, and Nesta’s jaw worked at the movement. 

You wanted to say something, maybe defend yourself, but you were afraid to open your mouth and be ridiculed. Everyone had said you were friends with Nesta. They had described her prickly personality but said you had been fast friends. They said she had been asking about you. 

You breathed through your nose and pressed your lips together. 

“She’s gotten memories back, Nesta. We were told it’s a slow process,” Feyre reasoned, attempting to lower the tone of the room as Azriel’s shadows became restless. 

“Right. And they all happen to be memories of the precious Inner Circle. Another agenda I’m sure was purposeful.” 

That was true. You’d gotten back a handful of memories now, all with either Azriel, Cassian, Rhys, or Mor involved, but those were the only people you knew. And they were all distant memories made centuries ago. You had no new context and had started to assume that this process would be chronological. Sort of. 

“We are introducing things slowly,” Azriel all but gritted out, his presence large and looming at your back. “Even the process of getting those few memories hasn’t been pleasant. Based on what we understood we thought it would be better if—” 

“It’s always what you think. She isn’t yours, Azriel,” Nesta fought, gripping the arms of her chair in a punishing hold. 

“Careful, Nesta—” 

“You’re scared.” Your voice was sure but quiet as it silenced the room. You stared at Nesta, brows furrowed, and watched the tells of her fear emanate from her. “Why are you scared?” 

Nesta looked jarred, affronted. She glowered at you. “I am not scared.”

“I can see it. I don’t understand it, but I can see it.” You met her eyes and something looked different about them—something searching. “Is it about me?” 

The room tensed, air becoming still. 

Nesta stood abruptly. You straightened your back and were halfway up to follow her, a confusing urge leading you to comfort the woman who obviously did not like you, when pain took your breath away. You faltered, feet failing as you shot them out to balance your wavering posture. You fell forward instead, the ground a harsh pain against your knees. 

Azriel 

Azriel was so quick to find your side, any vitriol lingering in the room no longer his concern. He pulled you against him and slotted your head in his neck as a whine left your lips. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Nesta asked, harshness tinged with underlying urgency. 

He had known she was scared—everyone knew that—but you voicing it had made it real, and Nesta was not one to put that out in the open. In another life, just a few months difference, you would have confronted her privately. But you didn’t know. 

“She’s remembering,” Azriel muttered, holding you closer as your body became dead weight against his. This part always sent terror shooting through him, but he was getting better at containing it. You needed him to be calm.

“Does she always collapse? You didn’t think to—” 

“Nesta,” Feyre interrupted, placing a gentle hand on her sister’s arm. The High Lady shook her head with a wince. 

Azriel watched the interaction with lidded eyes, his hands pressed to your head and back. He knew you would come to within a few minutes. Sometimes it took longer and you were far more dazed then, but he’d be willing to sit here for as long as you needed. 

“I’ll get the compress,” Cassian declared, kicking up from his chair with a parting hand on Nesta’s shoulder. “Take it easy. It can be difficult when she wakes up.” 

Nesta crossed her arms and shifted her weight between her feet as Azriel repositioned you on the ground. He looked down at your face, the way your eyes moved behind the lids, and then tucked you back into his chest. He reminded himself that this was something good; last time you remembered the first kiss you had had with him. 

A turn of silence overcame the sitting room and Feyre excused herself to check up on Nyx. Nesta stayed, using Cassian’s return as her weak excuse. 

“How long—” 

“She’s okay, Nesta,” Azriel said, voice low. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but she’s okay. You  need to give her time.” 

Nesta’s brow furrowed and she bit the side of her cheek. “You all have made her weak. She doesn’t need to be coddled.” 

“She does. For now. That doesn’t make her weak—to need people.” 

Azriel moved your hair off your forehead as a harsh breath left your nose. You didn’t wake yet. 

“She would hate it—being treated like glass.” 

“I know,” Azriel admitted. “She hates it now. But, as Feyre said, you weren’t there before. This is nothing compared to how we were then.” 

“I haven’t seen her in months.” Nesta’s voice was smaller as she dropped to the ground beside Azriel. “She looked so… timid when she came in. She was never like that.” 

Azriel let out a sigh and held Nesta’s gaze. “I know how this feels, but you can’t… you can’t blame her for this. You can’t punish her, Nesta. She needs you, too.” 

“She hasn’t needed me this entire time, obviously. That was decided rather quickly.” 

Azriel sighed again, but before he could help his sister sort out the myriad of emotions he knew she was feeling, you groaned and the sound rattled against his skin. The Shadowsinger pulled you away from his body but kept his arms holding you up. Your lashes slowly fluttered before you pressed your palm into your eye socket. 

“Gods, ow,” you complained. “I hate that part.” 

Azriel offered you a melancholy laugh and brushed his lips along your forehead—always stolen touches with him. “I’m sorry, my love.” He paused, sending a sidelong glance toward Nesta. The younger fae was frozen in place. “Can I get you anything?” 

“The cold compress, maybe?” 

“Cass is already on it. He’ll be back soon.” Another pause as you gathered your bearings. Azriel rubbed soothing circles into any skin he could reach. “Share now or later?” 

The question was routine now. Some memories were easy for you to share, spouting them off as soon as you woke up like in the case of the first kiss you had learned about three days ago. Others hurt as if you were reliving them in the moment, like when Rhys was taken under the mountain or when you remembered the pain of Day Court. 

So Azriel would wait, and then he would ask. 

And if he needed to hold you as you cried afterward, he would do that, too. 

Your tongue darted out to wet your drying lips and then your expression pinched. You sat up fully to examine the room, still disoriented if Azriel could tell anything by the rapid way your eyes moved, but you were looking for something—or someone, maybe. 

When you looked over your shoulder and found Nesta’s frozen form, recognition shone in your hazy eyes. 

“I remembered you,” you revealed. You twisted from Azriel’s grip to sit on the floor before her. “We were talking. Or, I was talking and you were… angry at me for something. We were in a terribly awful apartment. I think it was yours.” Your brows came together as you searched through the memory. You looked back up. “You were afraid then too.” 

Azriel didn’t have a moment to protest before Nesta had her arms thrown around your shoulders, her grip on your sweater visibly unshakeable. You had to stabilize a hand behind you to keep upright, and even though Azriel knew your head throbbed after getting a memory back, you didn’t make a sound. 

“You’re going to be fine,” Nesta angrily demanded, sounding as if she were placing a curse. “You are stronger than this.” 

A minute ticked by, and then another. Azriel sat idly by as Nesta held you against her and you held her back without as much context, but just as tightly. 

“Well,” Cassian re-entered the sitting room, cold compress held loosely in his hand. “This seems to be going better.” 

~~~

A few days after meeting, and somewhat understanding, Nesta Archeron, you found yourself on a walk with Azriel following the resurfacing of a particularly painful memory. It was something from the war—Azriel was hurt, barely alive, and you were helpless and miles away from him. The memory was mostly just remnants of pain and fear, and it had taken Azriel fifteen minutes to calm you down after. 

But that was fine—it was good. Because for every painful memory came several good ones, and those memories made it worth it. You almost felt lucky to experience many of them for the first time again. 

“Can I ask you something?” you posed, swinging your conjoined hands as they intertwined between you. You loved holding Azriel’s hand—especially after the first time you’d initiated the contact and he blushed so furiously it warmed his skin. 

“Of course you can,” came Azriel’s soft reply. 

The low sounds of Velaris winding down laid the background of the conversation. The occasional merchant sweeping outside their shop would wave to the two of you, and although you still didn’t recognize them all, it didn’t hurt as much to grin and greet them. A few of them reintroduced themselves with warm smiles after hearing of your condition, but others just appeared happy to see you in any context. 

“When I remembered us after we were married,” you began. “Where were we? I’ve been in most of the rooms in the House and I can’t find it.” 

“Ah,” Azriel hummed. His mouth curved up in a beautiful half-smile. “I was wondering when you’d ask about that.” 

“You’ve been keeping something from me!” you accused with a playful gasp. 

“No, no, not keeping it from you, angel. I wanted you to find it on your own.” 

“What do you mean find it on my own? I’ve only recently been able to find my study in the House and I lose my way if I start in certain corners.” 

Azriel chuckled, his eyes squinting at the corners. 

This felt so good—so normal. 

This felt like something that could last. 

“How many times have I taken you on this walk?” he asked, gently guiding you forward on cobblestone. 

“Are you changing the subject?” Azriel shot you a knowing look that had you rolling your eyes. “Fine,” you relented. “Almost every other day.” 

“Why do you think that is?” 

“It’s a nice path. The street isn’t too busy but there’s a lot to look at,” you shrugged. “I thought you just liked it.” 

Azriel brought you to a stop away from the street. “Look a little deeper.” He gestured around with his chin. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary, not at first. He had stopped you in a quieter corner of the street, one you always admired each time you passed it. Soft foliage lined each house you passed, purples and blues and muted yellows obviously cared for among old brick and stone. Gentle water could be heard in the distance, most likely from fountains or small wells meant to provide for families. In the setting sun, the houses were peaceful, serene. 

Something called to you. It was inexplicable, but you found yourself without the urge to inspect why you were being called. Your power was usually unexplainable—at least that’s what it felt like—but this was different. 

You turned to look on at the quaint cottage Azriel had stopped you in front of. 

“Does this place mean something?” you asked, knocking your head to the side as you took in the ivy that trailed up tanned stones. 

Azriel could be felt at your back, the Illyrian bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders. “Yes. What does your intuition tell you?” 

“I don’t think my magic works like that.” 

“Just give it a shot,” Azriel chuckled by your ear. 

It was when his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, stealing your breath away, that you hoped for more. That your intuition prompted you to ask for more. 

“Is this… Do we live here?” 

You could feel Azriel’s smile near your skin. You turned to face him, his hands dropping from your shoulders as your expression shifted into pleasant disbelief. Azriel’s smile was twisted into permanent light on his face, and he brushed your hair behind your ears as you stared up at him. 

“We do. Picked it out right after we were married. We didn’t think raising a family in the House of Wind was very feasible long-term.” Azriel jolted, stuttering for a moment. “Not that we need to raise a family! Now, or ever, actually. That was just something we talked about before, but things are different now and just having you—” 

“Azriel,” you smiled, interrupting his rambling by sliding your arms around his shoulder. “Can I ask you something else?” 

Azriel blushed, closing his eyes with a sigh as he nodded in defeat. 

“Will you kiss me?” 

His eyes snapped open, the hazel searching yours with a quickened intensity. “Are you sure?” he asked. His hands were on your waist and you couldn't remember him putting them there. “You don’t have to—” 

“I remember our first kiss,” you countered. Your eyes flickered down to the ring hanging around his neck. That question would be for another time. “Seems only fair that I’d get to experience one in real-time, don’t you think?”

“You don’t want to go in the house? Go see it?” he whispered, but he was leaning down as he spoke the words, his eyes glued to your lips. 

“I think I’ll have time later.” 

When his lips met yours, Azriel exhaled deeply, the hands on your waist pulling you closer with desperation lining his skin. He deepened the kiss in a way that seemed unintentional, intrinsic, and you saw stars behind your lids as he covered your mouth with his and kissed you harder. You had to take a step back to steady yourself and he only followed, his wings coming around your back to press you tighter. 

Something rumbled in the back of Azriel’s throat as your fingers twined through his hair. You only had the faint memory of a kiss, but that one was much different than this. That kiss had been sweet and tentative. This kiss was desperate and needy and you could feel the way Azriel missed you in each of his touches.

And, Gods, did you miss him, too. Differently—a way you couldn’t even understand—but you missed him. 

When you pulled back, you were met with Azriel’s furrowed brow, his eyes flickering between both of yours. He kept you close as you let out a breathy laugh. 

“Do you always kiss me like that?” 

“I should,” he breathed, and then he kissed you and kissed you until your back met the front door of your home. 

~~~

“Things wouldn’t be so bad, you know,” Mor announced, breaking the silence in the room. “If you didn’t get everything back.” 

You glanced up from the diary you’d been poring over, bookmarking the page as you stared up at your friend. “What do you mean?” 

“I just mean if you had gaps, maybe things you never remembered, that would be okay,” Mor continued, rising to sit beside you on the loveseat. 

She had come to visit you in the cottage—your cottage—bringing you one of your diaries they had hidden in the House of Wind. You had eagerly ripped it from her hands and dove into the contents, barely greeting her as you ushered her in and flipped the door shut. 

“Well, the goal is everything,” you explained. You held up the diary and gave it a small shake. “That’s why Az and I asked for these. And there are still people out looking for the witch.” 

Mor kissed her teeth and sighed. “But it would be okay,” she repeated. “If you never got it all back. It would be okay if you were just like this, all the time.” 

“What, is there something you’re hoping I won’t remember? Something embarrassing?” you teased, but Mor didn’t laugh. 

“I’ve been thinking about something you said a little while ago. It’s been bothering me. I talked to Azriel about it too, and I just… I need you to know that we all love you—that I love you—just as you are now. You aren’t a ghost.” 

The smile fell from your lips. You placed the diary down in your lap and turned to face Mor, taking her hands in yours. “Mor, I know that. I didn’t mean—” 

“No, you were right. We were talking as if you weren’t there and that wasn’t fair. None of this is fair, but especially not that. You have to know, y/n, that the way you are, right now, that’s still you. I’m sorry. We’ve all been idiots.” 

You huffed out a small chuckle. “I mean I wasn’t going to say it.”

Some of the light returned to Mor’s eyes, masking the grief that lingered there. “See, there you are.” 

You gripped her hands tighter, yanking her in for a hug. “I forgive you, Mor.” 

She clutched at your shirt and laughed. “Thank the Mother. Because Azriel wouldn’t shut up about keeping you all to himself. I was sick of the gloating.” 

“Azriel? Gloating?” you feigned a gasp, pulling back with a teasing smile. 

“You bring it out of him.” 

Memories came in different waves as time went on. Sometimes they were quick, difficult rememberings. Other times you were out for much longer and would wake up disoriented and confused. But you were never afraid of them. 

At first, the slow nature of their return did make you afraid. You had feared that this process would take too long and everyone would grow tired of waiting. Maybe Azriel would start rolling his eyes when you lost consciousness or Cassian would start to grumble every time you couldn’t connect the dots in one of his stories. The fear was real and it ate away at you for about one week before it was completely diminished. 

Because this conversation you were having with Mor—you’d had it with Azriel too. 

He had pressed his lips along your forehead and told you that it was fine if you couldn't remember everything, he’d just make you fall in love with him again. 

And maybe you were too afraid to tell him that he’d already succeeded at that feat. 

A comfortable silence fell over the room as you and Mor continued your independent tasks, you reading your diary, Mor flipping through a stack of correspondence she had brought along with her. The sounds of scribbling and creased parchment were reminiscent of the first few days after you lost your memory—Mor would bring work into your room and sit beside you as you nursed a headache. Hearing it in this context, in your home, felt like it had a meaning to it. 

Azriel 

It was later in the afternoon when the front door silently opened, Azriel removing his shoes by the door and setting off to find his mate in the cottage. He could hear someone else and mistakenly thought it to be Nesta before he spotted a head of bright-blonde hair beside you in the sitting room. Mor had been the only one in the family who hadn’t visited the cottage yet and relief filled his chest and the sight of her. 

You had started to worry that she didn’t want to see you. Azriel had reassured you several times that Mor just thought you didn’t want to see her after the way everyone acted, but his sweet words had done little to quell your fears. 

Your relationship with Mor had been different since you woke up; she had been the one person you could trust for a while. When he was afraid and messing everything up, Mor held your hand and talked you through his idiocy. 

He was glad some semblance of a reunion in his sitting room. 

“Hi, girls,” Azriel greeted, keeping his voice low to match the calm of the room. He leaned down beside your place on the loveseat, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Should I get a fire going? It’s cold in here.” 

You turned your head to grin up at him, and Azriel had to calm his heart as it skipped several beats. He was trying to be casual about all of this—about you in the seat you had claimed as yours several years ago, sitting beside your best friend and smiling up at him, looking as if you belonged here because you did—but you were making it very difficult with your pretty smile and the pretty way you blinked at him. 

“Hi, Az. Mor’s here,” you offered. 

“I see that, my love.” 

You smiled again, this time directing it towards Mor. “She brought one of my journals. It’s from before I met you all. I don’t have any memories of that time yet. Very informative.” 

“Thought we could go chronologically,” Mor quipped. She leaned up from the couch and stretched her arms. “I’ll let you guys get to it, then. With… whatever mates do.” 

“Will you be back?” 

Azriel’s heart hurt a little at the question, and he could tell by the softness in Mor’s gaze that she felt the same. 

“Of course. Just not when you and Nesta are having your book club. Made that mistake a few too many times,” she teased, sending parting words out the entryway. 

As soon as Mor had vacated the seat beside you, Azriel was occupying the space, rounding his arm over your shoulders and smashing you into his chest as he pressed kisses to your skin. You laughed and attempted to push him away, the journal now lost in a cushion, but Azriel was unrelenting. 

“I missed you,” he proclaimed. 

“I saw you this morning,” you giggled back, finally giving up and allowing the onslaught of affection. 

“Doesn’t matter. I spent weeks not touching you. You just started letting me kiss you.”

“We’ve been kissing for a few weeks now.” Azriel only hummed at your words and moved his hands to cup your face as he kissed your cheeks. “Gods, we sound like children.” 

“I love you.” 

Main POV

You opened your mouth to reply, but Azriel had already silenced you with his lips. You were breathless when he pulled away, all thoughts emptying from your brain. 

“How was your day?” he asked, removing himself from the tight grip he’d captured you in. But he still kept you glued to his side. 

You took a breath in and blinked. “Um, it was good. Mor came.” 

“You mentioned,” Azriel teased. “Any memories you want to talk about over dinner?” 

“None today. It’s been slow over the past few days, I’ve noticed.” 

Azriel brushed hair from your forehead. “That’s okay. They’ll come with time.” He paused. “Or they won’t.” 

The reminder of Azriel’s promise to you sat behind his words. It echoed Mor’s conversation earlier and you fought the reassurance and dread that battled within you. 

Because he was right. They might come, or they might not. 

Your family would love you either way. 

But, would you have to live with this feeling of… incompleteness forever as well? 

Would that fade with time? 

You offered a soft smile and leaned up to kiss the corner of Azriel’s mouth. “The things in the journal Mor gave me,” you began. “Usually, when one of you tells me about something from the past I feel a connection to it. Or I get a memory back. But I’ve been poring over this book—” you fished it out from the cushions. “—and, nothing. It’s like I’m reading a story and not my own words.” 

Azriel furrowed his brow. “That must be difficult to comprehend.” 

“It is,” you nodded. “And, that’s fine—I guess. Because none of you can really reinforce memories when you weren’t there. I just feel strange about it.” 

“Can I do anything to help?” 

You bit your lip as Azriel stared back at you with concern laced in his features. He was already doing everything he could to help, already pushing aside so much so you could find comfort in this confusing life you’d been dropped into. 

You watched the way he held himself back, the way he always kept himself close to Velaris and refused necessary missions to keep you near. You looked on without the means to help him as he stressed over the memories you’d receive. He spent countless hours retelling your story and holding you through difficult bouts of unconsciousness and taking it so, painfully slow with you. 

Maybe, if you really thought about it, this hole within you wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“Could you get that fire started?” 

[riaki]

OKAY EVERYONE IS SAYING GOJO DOESN'T DESERVE A HAPPY ENDING YES

BuT what if we could make it a little ANGSTY instead?? 👀 He gets his happy ending. His. Happy ending. You? Well.. Old habits die hard. This is what you wanted after all no? So what if he breaks his promises? What if your smile begins to fade? What if

What you said about later on reader and freckles growing apart cause freckles seemed nice it'd be a shame for him to be an ass

But that it's silly cause the irony is what if that freckle boy.. was just like Gojo but in a different light.

Being as it wasn't him who hurt reader, it was easy to overlook the fact of how similar he was to the old Gojo she knew before it became a shit show

Maybe she realizes that

Maybe she starts thinking

Maybe she drifts apart

And maybe Gojo comforts her but he's the last person she wants to see

Because it's these stupid feelings for Gojo that led her to this hell

And Gojo goes again

And he reels her in

And once he has her

Only to see as her smile begins to fade

As all the effort he had put in when he didn't have her start going away once again

And he starts to fall into old habits becoming the same as he was before, but this time, with you at his hand

As he slowly takes away your smiles again.

But it's okay, he'll make it right. Just...later. and later. And later...

You hope.

sorry I'm not good with angst sorry for any cringe 🤣

this is!! such!!! a good!!!! take!!!!!! on hsbully!gojo!!!!!! tbh this ask speaks for itself lol n dw anon! i rlly love the way u brought it :3 this is highschoolbully!gojo part 592727465527 *suggestive!

yeah. freckles boy isn’t that great of a person. maybe he tried but it didn’t work out; u dunno why but u keep seeing gojo in him— hints of satoru in ur life. like that stinky cologne he thinks is kinda cool but rlly doesn’t smell too good on ur bfs drawer, or the way he takes his coffee. honestly, if u squint, it almost seems like freckle boy is tryna copy gojo in a way…? but u don’t like thinkin abt him so u don’t blink an eye.

fast forward u broke up with freckle boy because something or other; the point is, u really didn’t feel anything with him. there might’ve been a spark, but it was really only artificial and had no wind to fan the flames. and since u got together gojo’s been distant; his smile seems dimmer and there’s always this faraway; foggy look that makes the brilliant azure of his eyes seem cloudy gray. but then ur catching up with him again and at some random frat party you get drunk and ur sense is inhibited and— u end up kissing gojo… oops.

so then u kinda enter this fwb state with him. and.. he’s pretty cool, right? he’s kinda evrything u want in a guy— tall, pretty, cool, strong, handsome, charming— it’s a package deal. but there’s also this… rift, between the two of you. see, ever since gojo lost u the first time, he’s always been so scared of pushing u away. so u stay fwb because he doesn’t wanna lose u again in case he’s feelin more than you are. but his heart doesn’t skip a beat when he sleeps with other girls and his chest doesn’t tighten like it does with u when he gets mouthfuls of fruity gloss from kissing other girls. but he forces himself to keep this wall up between the two of u because he just can’t risk losing you a third time.

it sucks for u too, though! gojo’s just a bit too dense to see it. whether it’s in his own nature, or he’s faking it. it’s probably the latter, but that’d mean he’s not being genuine again, n you don’t wanna think about it. but you’re gettin comfy with him and so is he, and you really do whole heartedly believe he’s changed this time, and for good. and it’s true! he has. but not in the way you thought. apparently, he’s exchanged being an ass with an unreachable ego to a pinch more genuine, but still an ass. it’s proved when u get to his apartment one rainy day ready to spend the weekend w/ him for a study date, but there’s clothes on the floor. dresses n stockings and a frilly blouse that you definitely think (or hope) don’t belong to gojo. unfortunately, your suspicions are confirmed when you lay eyes on the tangle of people on his bedroom through the crack in the door— this time, it’s your turn to run in a hurry. turns out, he got comfortable with you— all in the wrong way, thinking it’d be okay to sleep around. except he gives chase— after pulling on a pair of pants, of course.

eventually he catches up to you; you hate those stupidly long legs. catches your wrist and forces you to face him. in front of a chick fil a, nonetheless. he gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu— but he’s forcibly snapped out of it when je realizes you’re crying. and damn, you look gorgeous, and he wishes it would rain because the sunlight falls around you like liquid gold, framing your pretty face and reflecting prisms of rainbow in your tears.

once again, he doesn’t get it. why are you crying? it’s not like you were really serious or labeled, right…? and the entire reason you’d stayed that way was to avoid somethin like this. but gojo slowly comes to the realization that he’s fucked up big time— he has been since day 1. really, he should’ve found somebody cheaper to chase— you stole his heart and his pride, making him awkwardly and stiffly apologize to you in front of a fast food restaurant on some random crossing next to a train station. it’s only tense because he doesn’t really know how to apologize— he doesn’t have much experience with it, and for that he blames his ego.

but even so, he’s not ready for those big, sappy love confessions yet. you always made him feel so weird— correction: you still do. so you walk away somewhere between fwb and strangers. it’s always one step forward and two steps back with gojo. but maybe, just maybe— he can slowly rebuild your trust with some patience, empathy, and a lot of genuine love that he’s yet to realize he’s been nursing in his heart for you since the first time he laid eyes on you.

paaaaaaart one

[gh0st-t0wn3]

I finally had time to make proper designs for the Trio!

Redson: Ver 1

Ver 2

I couldn't decide on if I liked it better with the braids or not so I just posted both, but anyways!

I gotta admit, I used to not like the idea of redson having Bull features (except for a small pair of horn maybe) but the concept really grew on me and now I really love it and wanted to try making my own design and I'm really proud with how it turned out.

I would've added more scars, since Guanyins throne pierced his entire body, but there came a point where it just looked like there was too much going on so I had to get rid of a few scars to tone it down, so we're just gonna say they faded over time, okay? Okay.

I also made him Miao (one of the largest ethnic minorities in southwest China) on PIF's side, and Mongolian on DBK's.

The Miao ethnicity of China has a long history, rich culture, and an ancient folk religion. Adorned in beautiful traditional clothes, possessing natural talent for singing and dancing, they live in uniquely designed indigenous architecture, which I think fits perfectly with how I imagined Princess Iron Fan and with her; Redson.

As for DBK being Mongolian, I saw someone else talking about this headcanon and I just liked it so I decided to use it, I don't really have a specific reason for it, I just thought it fit, not sure why though, it's just one of those things that makes sense even if you don't know why, you know?

Mei:

I made her taller and gave her a long dragon tail (like really long, it drags along the floor if she's not holding it up), though her scales are pretty much everywhere across her body they're most noticeable on her shoulders, thighs, and face (they're a bit hard to see in this photo because they're kinda hidden behind her hair, but I did give her scales beside her eyes)

I also gave her horns these little spiral designs around them, gave her sharper nails, and designed her ears to look like coral, since she's a water dragon and I thought they looked cool.

Honestly idk what else to say about her design, I didn't have anything specific in mind when designing her, I kinda just had to wing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)

(I also made her Bengali, on her dad's side, but it's not really important or has any reason behind it, just a headcanon I've had for a while, don't know where it came from though)

MK:

Alot of people have speculated that the monkey form we see during the fight against Azure in season 4 isn't MK's full form yet, that we're just seeing a fraction of what he's yet to become, based on the fact that while he has the weird side burns, the tail and the face marking, he also lacks a natural skin tone, they didn't give him a proper nose etc, so I wanted to play with the idea.

I decided to make him this strange mix between human and monkey, leaving him pretty much human with the addition of his tail(s), and weird li'l monkey feet.

(I was also gonna give MK more arm/leg hair, it was in my first sketch, but I forgot to add them when I was doing the line art and didn't realize until after I saved it as a jpeg, so that's my bad, but I'm gonna add it in to any other art I make)

It's also a bit hard to see in this, but I designed his staff with more details, specifically adding dragon-esque imagery to the Golden ends, this is because (for anyone who's new to the fandom/hasn't read JTTW) Wukong's staff was originally one of the several pillars that held up the sea in the dragon palace, until he stole it and shrunk it down to use as his weapon.

I also did MK's clones :)

Porty MK:

I gave him stripes of coloured hair and gave his tails all different colours, though I don't think he would actually dye it, instead I like to think that he would use that really crappy dollar store spray in hair dye (or hair chalk). I kept the fishnet clothes that I added in my originally design of him for my headcanons post, and decided to give him striped elbow length fingerless gloves.

I also gave him a cropped shirt, ripped shorts and these weird fingerless glove-esque shoes for convenience, since regular shows seem like they would be uncomfortable.

Edit: my dumbass forgot Porty's stupid print jacket 😭

Artist MK:

For Artist MK I gave him overalls and a jacket over it, which he wears specifically for when he's doing paintings so he doesn't ruin too many of his actual clothes (I know I said that this was inspod by Circusapple, which it still is, but this is almost exactly what I wear when I'm painting too, just in different colours).

I also gave him those gloves that digital artists wear so they're hands don't accidently trigger something on the screen because everyone knows that every artist just walks around with their art glove on even when it's not necessary.

Delivery MK:

I have to admit, I was never a big fan of MK's work uniform just being his regular clothes with a work jacket thrown over it so I wanted to try and make him look a little more professional and decided to instead give him a chef coat (similar to the one Pigsy wears on the show as well), with a logo for the restaurant on the chest, along with it I gave him plain black pants, since casual red jeans didn't seem very professional (I know he's just a delivery person, but if you were to look at pretty much any food corporation, even people who do deliveries have to wear uniform, so it's always been kinda strange to me that he's just in regular clothes). 

The shoes were harder to make professional given the whole "half-monkey" thing so I opted to give him the same strange fingerless glove-esque shoes for comfort and convenience, but made them plain black as well.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 08/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like in cannon baby MK was the kind of kid to eat glue, mainly because he hatched from a rock and doesn't know what anything is.

isn’t it like how all babies are? I think I also used to eat glue

@purpleprinceblood ha chiesto: In the spicynoodles bit where you explain how Red Son was charmed by Mk's beautiful personality and kind nature (/silly), you said Mk is Demi sexual Do you have other sexuality headcanons for the cast, or is it just "they're gay for each other"?

Pan for Mei, Bi for Redson, both Wukong and Macaque are in a way pan, in the sense that they don’t really care about gender, but are only gay for each other.

@kehideni ha chiesto: Whatever happened with never drawing a background ever again? :D On a more serious note: may we know the exact relation of DBK and Chiyou(did i spell that right?)? I'm just the nosy type :3

Chiyou has 72 brothers, one of them is an ancestor of DBK

@marcusalexander ha chiesto: I have a question is spider queen in your comic, and if so, is she like a part of the team or enemy or anuite? I'm just curious since she isn't that evil. By the way, I love your comic shadowpeach parents

The AU is set after S5, so I guess she’s enemy

Anonimo ha chiesto: Macaque HAS to be doing a little happy dance in the bio parents AU that murder isn’t considered distinct from self-defense Imagine being like… a legitimate threat to the world around you, and getting put down to defend it, and then being hailed as “the less bad one” because you were killed But this also means that MK probably views himself as a murdered for killing the LBD/Azure Lion too cause again “killing in self defense/defense of others= murder

most likely MK feels super duper guilty for what he did, and will continue to be until he get some extra comfort.

@goldenthecat ha chiesto: I'm wondering, since you watch lmk do you watch other Lego shows too? Like Ninjago or friends

does having saw the ninjago movie and a 4 hours video essay recap about the first 14 season count?

@haruwashere29 ha chiesto: Did wukong put his head over macaque’s chest to hear his heartbeat? 😭😭😭

OH OK NOW WE ARE ON WITH THE ANGST. YES 100%

Anonimo ha chiesto: You said Wukong is warm , change my mind that macaque has absolutely put his cold feet straight on wukongs back while he was sleeping not just cause he was cold but because he thought it was funny

hehe he has cold feet poor boy.

@og-glitch-punk ha chiesto: I'm haunting you at thisnpoint im so sorry but your lmk comic gives ideas and thoughts bro lmao /gen SO HERES ANITHER THOUGHT... If you technically think about it, MK is basically an clone (not but words are EHHH) of Sun wukong because they came from the sane rock. But what about our spooky Macaque? We have no knowledge of how he came to be but we all may assume it's the same way with MK and Wukong. but.. BUT. If Macaque had his own stone somewhere in the shadows then what if there's an basically MK but Macaque verison? Even if not, that would be wild to think about lol

like a slightly more emo version of MK? Something like the OK KO situation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello I just wanted to say I'M IN LOVE WITH YOUR COMIC it's sooooo good I'm obsessed and the recent part... I have no word only emotion Even though I use Tumblr for a while I still getting use to it so.. do you know any other Shadowpeach comics? I couldn't find any 😅

mmmm @kristea9ay is doing a shadowpeach parent story that’s really cute!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I NEED to see wukong and macaque having a cute moment and accidentally touch each others tails yk? 🥺🥺🥺 (and mk quitting is a stab to the chest, i dont think there is anything worse in store... Right?... RIGHT?!)

at this point they ain’t touching the tails “accidentally” anymore these bitches are too gay I can’t anymore-

@amyrosewithoutshadow ha chiesto: I think the next one that will need Sandy is Wukong, lol I always thought about one thing, how Wukong deal with traumas and crises? We only saw him dealing with it during his sleep, but what about a daylight crises? Love your art 💞

he has a “I can do it with a broken heart”-by-taylor-Swift-masking situation.

@alizardonfire ha chiesto: I understand why MK doesn't want to be their successor mostly because I think he needs time to think about all of it. There's a lot to unpack! I love how wukongs more shocked about it. And I think macaque kinda saw it coming?

i think Mac forseen that MK would have changed his view on Wukong for sure. But he didn’t know in which way.

@siennabanana ha chiesto: HDBDJDBDHSHDV NEW HEADCANON UNLOCKED: sometimes he misses his human form but he doesn’t tell wukong and macaque bc he feels like that would be an insult to them and plus he still thinks his monkey form is cool but eughhh dysphoriaa

awwww he might be sometimes! Good thing they are starting to hang out outside FFM as well!

@blazerratbluefire-blog ha chiesto: If Wukong ever manages to be able to control his kaiju form, I could easily see Macaque's kaiju form using him as a bed, and along comes MK wanting in on the action. Then, he proceeds to lay on top of Macaque, squishing him with his kaiju and making a wholesome monkey family bonding session. With Wukonh laughing that Macaque is being squished. Just a funny thought I had.

oh my I think he would be waaayyy to big for the other two ahah

Anonimo ha chiesto: For your LMK shadowpeach AU will Ironfan be making up for all of MK's birthdays she missed? (Dropping off a mountain of presents at FFM?) (My partner joked she would give Redson in a box, not in a bow or anything just in an open box like a cat.)

she would probably make a courtnapping room for her son to gift him, and Red Son would die from embarrassment right there.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Dose macaque sometimes cook for MK and wukong since wukong tends to eat his fur/hair and macaque fonts approve of it

I think yes, he would cook probably really basics but nutrient-full meals, the few times they don’t eat noodle from pigsy shop

Anonimo ha chiesto: TCan we get Red Son and MK Angst because Red Son technology tried to kill MK a lot of times?

just bc of the AU main plot I don’t think so, also bc at this point traffic light trio are all friends with each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Speaking of birthdays, I assume Pigsy and Tang celebrate when MK showed up in their life or a random day when MK first asked about his birthday. Would Wukong and Macaque ask Nuwa the day he was put in the rock/broken out of it (I assume he came out and was immediately brought to Pigsy the same day but idk) or is that sort of a sore subject still, with the whole harbinger thing?

I think the best thing would be to celebrate it the day they found it!

@yuk1yun ha chiesto: Giuro che è un mese che provo a rendere il mio cosplay di mk simile alla tua au (perché anche se è semplice è stupendo), ma non so come fare le orecchie... Sono di nuovo qui per dirti quanto adoro la rua au btw :)

ADUYDJYTDY SE HAI BISOGNO DI RIFERIMENTI FAMMI SAPERE! E MANDAMI IL RISULTATO QUANDO HAI FINITO!!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I'm just waiting until Mk realizes the other things Wukong and Macaque did, yk like what Sun did to Redson, what Mac did to some of the monkeys all that

I think with time MK will slowly learn everything, but for example I guess now Red Son and Wukong are at truce

Anonimo ha chiesto: I'm just obsessed with your shadowpeach comics!!✨✨ But heey~ how about bai he!? l think it will be super amazing if add her in the future to this little cute monkeys family

awww baby!! I hope she went back to her family honestly! But I also hope sometimes she visits MK!

@yainmy ha chiesto: Oh gods I when I found this bio parents au I got HOOKED. I love it so much and the shenanigans and the angst are just *chef's kiss*. I have some curious questions if you don't mind me asking, but if a similar situation happens in the future like when mk got baby-fied, but instead his forms get split up (human and monkey demon) would he have that child crisis of fear "if im not this certain way they wont want me as theirs anymore", considering he is still learning about the whole monkey business? Also in a shenanigans sort of question, I don't remember how stone monkeys are made in their world but it would be hilarious if mk asked wukong and macaque that since they both are male and they technically "had" him then does that mean they can give him a sibling if they wanted? Sorry if it's to long of an ask 😅

i think MK would mostly feel a sense of loss for the fact that in a way, things should have been like this, like when he “hatched” Wukong probably would have found him if it wasn’t for the fact someone or something brought it to Pigsy shop. He would have grown up with someone who could tell him how to be a stone Monkey and teach him his power. Surely, I think Wukong wouldn’t have been as good as a parent as Pigsy, and MK doesn’t regret a bit how things actually ended up happening, but it’s a bit of a case of “sometimes I imagine how my life would have been if it went this way”

Anonimo ha chiesto: I know it's a bit out of the scope of your comic, but I'm wondering if Mei's design is just stylistic additions as if they were always there due to her dragon heritage, or if you have any ideas of scenes that took place as she grew more dragon features?

she started to grow more and more into them after she was accepted by her family sword and started to use her dragon form more and more.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you ever think Macaque and Wukong argue over who the little monkeys on the mountain like more? Like Im 100% sure Macaque wouldn't really care but the idea of not being the favorite bothers Wukong

the monkeys go crazy for soft fur Mamacaque. Wukong will always be pissed at this.

@snsp6 ha chiesto: do u like the hc that Mac has naturally snow-white fur? cs when u showed him wo glamours I realized that u don’t rlly color anything so I wanted to ask if it was still black or some type of mix between the two

akjdkajsbkaj I love for that shit YES. Yeah I don’t really colour my comics but yeah he cover it with glamour

Anonimo ha chiesto: I don't think MK ever really acknowledged that Wukong is a person, still a glorified deity. As mentioned MK hasn't really read the actual book and really didn't know his flawed side. MK has seen the worst parts of Macaque and still accepted him.

and now he knows about Wukong worst oarts and still accept him :D

@alistairliddell ha chiesto: What is FFM?

Flower Fruit Mountain

[pallastronomy]

YOU. YOU GET ME

(I uh. May have gone autistic about my problems with Revue Frontier + Misc. Aruru thoughts in the tags. Oops.)

Every day I wake up and think about how irreversibly Arcana Arcadia has altered my brain chemistry. They did not have to go that hard for an arc exclusively in the mobile game and yet

[sidekick-hero]

It's finally here, my entry for the @steddiesummerexchange. This is a gift for my dear friend @starryeyedjanai - I was so delighted when I found out you were my giftee 💜💜💜 Your prompt 'Steve can't get his inheritance until he marries someone' really tested me and took me out of my writing comfort zone. I hope you like it and that I did your prompt justice! Special shout out to the best beta in the whole world, @acasualcrossfade 💜🙏

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 1 (5.6k) under the cut

"Rob! Robbie!" Steve yells as he walks into their two-bedroom apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. "Robin Juniper Buckley, where are you?"

He hears the telltale clatter of dishes and sure enough, he finds his roommate and best friend in their tiny kitchen washing the dishes. It's his turn to do them, but his schedule has been hell this week. He's been spending so much time at the firehouse cooking for a crew of five to twelve perpetually hungry firemen and women that the thought of cleaning up their kitchen at home has made him want to cry.

"I'm here doing the dishes, because if I didn't, we could have proven Darwin's theories right here in our kitchen." Despite the scolding words, she doesn't look particularly angry at him, and he figures he'll be forgiven in no time. She knows he's been working himself into the ground lately, pulling double shifts whenever his boss will let him. Living in Chicago is expensive enough, but Steve also has to think about Max's education. There's no way his little sister can't live up to her full potential just because their parents are assholes who stopped caring about their children the second they turned out not to be the perfect son and daughter Richard and Emily Harrington wanted them to be.

He walks up to her and hugs her sideways, resting his head on her shoulder for a moment as he mumbles, "'m sorry, Robs. I'll make it up to you."

She sighs, and he knows he's already forgiven. "I know you will. It's okay. Not like I forgot to do something once or twice."

He leans back to look at her for full effect, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, like when you started dating Chrissy and were so busy having sex that you barely left your room or her apartment?"

Robin swats at him with the towel slung over her shoulder, but there's a smile on her face at the memory.

"Okay, now that we've established that you're jealous that I have an incredibly sexy and wonderful girlfriend," Robin says, ignoring his indignant Oi!, "do you want to tell me why you stormed in here yelling out my full name, which I've clearly forbidden you to use except in emergencies?"

Her question brings back the excitement that propelled him from the grocery store to her apartment in record time, and reminds him of the news he's been dying to share with her in person, rather than by phone or text message. He needs to see her reaction firsthand.

Taking hold of Robin's shoulders, he locks eyes with her azure gaze, unable to contain the grin that splits his face in two. "She’s gone!"

Robin blinks in confusion, prompting him to clarify. "Grandma Harrington, she's kicked the bucket, bit the dust, you name it."

A puzzled expression lingers on Robin's face momentarily before realization dawns. "No way! She... really?"

Unable to contain his excitement, Steve gives her a gentle shake. "Yes, really. Grandma Harrington finally called it quits."

They look at each other, their grins widening until they both look like madmen. Steve is aware that all of this is probably a highly inappropriate way to react to the death of a human being, but Eleanor Harrington had been the worst human being Steve or Robin had ever had the displeasure of meeting in their lives.

She had visited her son and daughter-in-law infrequently over the years, never giving them much warning when she was coming over and occupying one of their guest rooms for the unforeseeable future. More than once, Steve had come home to find her sitting at the kitchen table or on the sofa, staring at him with her judgmental gaze, disappointed in him before he even crossed the threshold. Any friend who had the misfortune to accompany him was ordered to sit with her and be interrogated, always found wanting as her grandson's companion. Everyone was beneath a Harrington, even Tommy, even though his father was a lawyer. ‘Too many freckles and that awful grin’ was one reason, ‘I don't like the way he looks at you, Steven, too greedy’ was another.

Robin, who had become a permanent fixture in Steve’s life after becoming his project partner in one of their shared classes his junior year, hadn’t fared any better. To this day, Steve has no idea how Grandma Harrington found out that Robin was queer, because at that point Robin hadn't even been out to her parents, only Steve. But when she did, she had spit at Robin. Steve had lost it then, too angry, too hurt to think rationally. He had thrown caution to the wind and come out to her, too, even though the thought of liking boys was still new to him, something he was still trying on to see how it would fit.

He doesn't even know what he expected to get out of it. Certainly not acceptance or even approval, no matter how much a part of him still craved that from his family. The only thing he got was her calling them both horrible names and saying such cruel things that Steve had to hold Robin and wipe away her tears afterwards.

That episode alone was reason enough for Steve to hate the old woman. Never mind that she had raised his father to be a bigoted, heartless man who had never learned what it meant to truly love anyone, not even his own son or daughter.

When their faces begin to ache from smiling, Robin shrugs casually, as though dismissing the significance of the moment. But Steve knows better. He knows the weight of hurt and resentment they both carry because of that woman.

"Rest in peace, I suppose," Robin remarks with an air of detachment, and Steve can only offer a noncommittal hum in response, realizing that any words he might speak would only add to the inappropriate nature of their conversation.

"Alright, so what does this mean for you, Steve?" Robin asks, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Is this going to change how you deal with your family?" She pauses briefly before adding, "And what about your inheritance?"

Steve offers a slight shrug, his expression turning pensive. "I'm not entirely sure yet, Robs," he begins, his tone serious despite the lingering excitement from their earlier celebration. "I mean, I guess it means I don't have to deal with her anymore, which is definitely a relief. But as for the rest of the family, I don't know. They've never been particularly warm or welcoming to me, you know that. I mean, you’ve been there when they wanted to send me to a psychiatrist to help me get over being queer. I doubt they've changed much since then."

Robin nods in understanding, recalling the numerous tales Steve had shared about his family's cold demeanor and their refusal to accept him for who he is. She reaches out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I mean, you know she was loaded. So yeah, there is an inheritance, but -" Steve continues, his gaze distant as he contemplates the implications. "There's a condition in Grandma Harrington's will. I can only inherit if I marry someone.”

Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Marry? Seriously? That seems archaic, unfair, and downright manipulative."

Steve lets out a wry chuckle. "Tell me about it. Grandma always did enjoy her control games. It's probably her way of trying to mold me into the perfect, straight grandson."

"You've got to be kidding me! Seriously? You... what, have to marry some woman so you can be the perfectly acceptable heterosexual son and grandson your family always wanted? Fuck off!" Despite the heavy topic, Steve can't help but smile at Robin's outrage on his behalf. He could always count on her. After all, she was there to pick up the pieces when his parents told him in no uncertain terms to either learn to be straight or leave.

He left and lived with the Buckleys until Robin graduated and they moved to Chicago together. It was the best decision he could have made, even if it still hurts some days.

For a moment, they both fall silent, each lost in their thoughts. Then Robin squeezes his hand again. "We'll figure it out, Steve. We always do. And hey, maybe this is the perfect opportunity to really stick it to them."

"What do you mean?"

A devilish grin spreads across Robin's face. "Tell me, does her will say that you have to marry someone, or that you have to marry a woman to get your inheritance?"

Oh.

Oh.

Steve looks at Robin, his eyes wide with sudden understanding. “You’re a genius, Buckley,” he says, grinning. “I think it’s time for us to pay my attorney a visit.”

Turns out Robin is right. It seems that Grandma Harrington wrote her will at a time when gay marriage was still illegal in most states, and never thought to change it after the courts made it legal in Indiana and Illinois in 2014.

Steve's lawyer, who he honestly couldn't afford if it wasn't for the fact that she was an old family friend, agreed to help him pro bono just to give his bigoted parents the middle finger, as her sister was a lesbian. She said that the requirements of the will would be met if Steve married a woman as well as a man. As long as it was a legally recognized marriage, he would get close to half a million dollars. Enough to pay for Max's education, the rest of Robin's student loans, and maybe even a small house here in Chicago for him and Max once she was done with college and wanted to live with him until she was ready to be on her own.

The only problem was that Steve didn't have anyone to marry, woman or man.

His last serious relationship had been in high school, for crying out loud. Not for lack of trying. Steve loved love, but love apparently didn't love Steve back. Robin insists that's because he's sabotaging himself. She thinks deep down he's afraid of getting hurt again, so he only falls for people who a) he can't have or b) are a terrible match outside the bedroom.

She might have a point, he thinks in his more introspective moments. He has no shortage of options, and he always finds someone to hook up with, but he rarely makes it past the second date.

"Maybe you could hire someone?" Robin suggests, sipping her Dirty Shirley. After seeing John for some legal advice, they had gone straight to their favorite bar to hold a strategic summit over drinks.

So far, they have only made it to the drinking part.

Sighing deeply, Steve considers the idea for a second before shaking his head vehemently. "No way. I'm not paying some stranger to marry me. It's probably illegal anyway, and it sounds a lot like prostitution."

He knows it's the wrong thing to say when Robin raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "And what, Steven, is wrong with prostitution?"

"Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with it. A job like any other job,” he hastily assures her.

His answer seems to satisfy her and he knows she's right. It's just that sometimes the things he's been raised to believe, thanks to his extremely conservative parents, are hard to leave behind. They have a tendency to bubble back to the surface when he least expects it.

"That's what I thought. But I get it, it feels wrong to pay someone to marry you."

"Exactly. And I mean, it's about trust. Who guarantees that they won't double-cross me somehow and run off with all the money? I can't risk that."

He looks over at his best friend, his platonic soul mate, whom he trusts with his life and, more importantly, his little sister's life. Right now, he thinks, there’s only one person he could imagine being married to.

"How about we get married?"

He regrets it as soon as he asks.

Not because he thinks Robin wouldn’t do it, but because of the two of them, she is the one in a loving, stable relationship that could very well end in marriage one day. It's unfair of him to put her in a situation where she feels like she has to choose between Steve and Chrissy.

Worst of all, he knows she still wants to say yes to him. He can see it in the soft, sad way she looks at him. They both know they'll spend the rest of their lives together anyway. The simple truth of both their lives is that they would do anything for each other, walk through fire, face any horror the world could throw at them, just to see each other happy. And it's not like they couldn't get a divorce later, so Robin could still marry Chrissy, sure. But it would take something from her.

"Steve, I -"

"No, wait, don't answer that. It was a stupid idea, I shouldn't -"

"It's not stupid, it's just -"

As they talk over each other, their voices clash until they both instinctively reach over, silencing each other with a hand over their mouths at the same time. Their wide-eyed surprise quickly gives way to laughter as they realize the absurdity of the situation.

Steve is the first to recover from their fit of laughter, quickly sobering up to reassure Robin in a mild voice. "Seriously, Robs, I shouldn't have asked you to do this because it puts you in a shitty position. I know how much you love Chrissy and it wouldn't be fair to either of you. Especially when the two of you could finally get legally married. I don't want to take that away from you and make you agree to a fake heterosexual marriage like it was the 80's."

She looks at him with her big blue eyes, impossibly soft, and takes his hand in hers.

"Steve," she begins, her voice as gentle as her gaze, "thank you. For getting it, I mean. It wouldn't be all fake, though. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you're right, I'm not in love with you and you're not in love with me. And we both deserve to marry someone we feel that way about. In a perfect world, we would. I mean, I don't even know if Chrissy would ever want to marry me, but," Robin stops here, her eyes widening in sudden realization. "Oh my God, Steve!" Robin cries out in excitement and wonder, her reaction clearly colored by the strong cocktails their favorite bar always provided, before her voice becomes softer again, but no less wondrous. "I really want to marry her. I want to marry Chrissy so badly, Steve, I can't believe I didn't know.”

"And I can't believe you're realizing this after I asked you to marry me. Way to keep a guy's ego in check," Steve jokes with a big grin on his face. It's less news to him than it is to Robin, to be honest. Ever since Robin stumbled into their apartment with a piece of paper in her hand with a number on it, gushing about the gorgeous woman she had just met at the bookstore where she works, Steve knew his best friend was completely smitten with Chrissy Cunningham. That was four years ago, and they are still going strong, obviously madly in love.

She throws her arms around him and says, "I'm sorry," not sounding sorry at all, still giddy with her newfound realization. "I'll make it up to you. I actually might have an idea how we can get you your inheritance and still stick it to Grandma Harrington."

"I sense a but."

"But I can't guarantee it'll work."

"And..."

"And you might not like it at first, but honestly, it's genius, you just have to trust me. And if it really doesn't work out, then we'll get married and you'll pay for my 'I'm-sorry-I-love-you-please-stay-with-me-even-though-I'm-fake-marrying-my-best-friend' vacation with Chrissy. And the divorce."

Maybe it's the three beers he's already had, or maybe it's the fact that Robin would actually marry him just to help him out that makes him agree. He's sure he'll regret it along the way, but maybe he should take a leap of faith. If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't. No way to find out but to try.

Drunk Steve is clearly an optimist.

"I feel like I'm going to regret this, but all right. What's your plan?"

Robin grins mischievously, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she leans back, holding Steve at arm's length.

"Steve Harrington, you won't regret this, I promise," she declares, her tone brimming with confidence.

Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly, unable to suppress a chuckle at Robin's enthusiasm. "I'll hold you to that, Robin. But seriously, when do I get to know the master plan?"

Robin's grin widens, but then she sobers slightly, a hint of seriousness creeping into her expression. "I need to talk to Chrissy first. It's... complicated. But I'll tell you everything as soon as I can, I promise."

Steve nods, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension swirling inside him. "Okay, fine. Just... don't keep me waiting too long, okay? I've had enough surprises for one night."

Robin reaches out, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I won't, Steve. Trust me, this is going to work out. You'll see."

Despite his lingering doubts, Steve can't help but be swayed by Robin's unwavering confidence. With a nod, he squeezes her hand back, a silent agreement passing between them. Whatever Robin's plan entails, he knows his best friend has his back. And maybe, hopefully, they'll come out on top after all.

Drunk Steve should not be allowed to make any decisions, sober Steve decides.

Because he instantly regrets trusting Robin's secretive plan as soon as he steps into their apartment a week later, only to find not just Robin, but also her girlfriend Chrissy and Chrissy's best friend and roommate Eddie lounging in their living room.

All eyes turn towards him as he enters.

Robin's expression is the most transparent. Though the furrow between her brows is subtle, her lip-chewing and rhythmic tapping betray her worry, likely anticipating his reaction to whatever scheme they've concocted.

Chrissy, on the other hand, wears a radiant smile, her bubbly demeanor suggesting she's delighted about something. Yet, Steve can't shake the feeling that her enthusiasm might spell trouble. While he adores Chrissy and cherishes her friendship almost as much as he does Robin’s, he's well aware of her propensity for stirring up mischief.

Their shared history stretches back almost as far as hers and Robin's. It's a tradition for Robin and him to introduce their second dates to each other, one of their many platonic soulmate privileges. Steve often wonders if this practice inadvertently sabotages any chances of a third date, but he's unwilling to compromise on the importance of his friendship with Robin.

In any case, if someone can't accept his slightly unconventional bond with his best friend, they're probably not the right fit for him anyway.

Eddie's expression proves the most enigmatic. He appears utterly deer-in-the-headlights, his wide brown eyes resembling those of a startled doe. His usually pale complexion now seems even more ghostly. Steve notices how Eddie's fingers have been incessantly tousling his hair, rendering his dark curls resembling more of a chaotic bird's nest. Steve recognizes this as one of Eddie's nervous ticks, alongside fidgeting and rambling. His suspicions of Eddie's unease appear justified as Eddie avoids meeting Steve's gaze, opting instead to stare down at his hands, absently toying with his rings.

Something is going on and Steve has a sinking feeling that he won't like it.

"Um, hi?" He offers tentatively, his gaze flitting between Robin, Chrissy, and the nervously fidgeting Eddie. "Am I missing something here? Is this an early birthday surprise? Because if it is, I hate to break it to you, but my birthday's not for another nine months."

Before Robin can respond, Eddie interjects, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Hey, Steve! Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it? Nah, no birthday party, man. We definitely know when your birthday is!"

"We do?" Chrissy chimes in with a playful grin, clearly jesting, as Steve knows she's the one who meticulously keeps track of important dates in their circle.

Eddie, caught off guard by Chrissy's banter, stumbles over his words. "Uh, yeah, of course! February 23rd. Remember that baseball-themed cake from last year? I almost dropped it on the icy ground!"

Steve remembers it too, mostly because he was so chuffed to learn that in order to save his cake, Eddie had taken the fall instead, choosing to land on his admittedly not very well padded backside so that the cake could live. He had been unable to sit properly at their little gathering all evening. Steve had felt sorry for him, but also fond in the face of Eddie's sacrifice for him.

"It's so good to see you, Steve. You look great today, that shirt really makes your eyes pop. Doesn't it, Eddie?" Chrissy gushes, nudging Eddie's side as he just stares at Steve in a way that makes Steve worry that he's about to go into cardiac arrest.

Eddie's mouth opens and closes like a fish. "Um..."

"Okay, what's going on, Robin?" Steve turns to the only person who doesn't act like she's on drugs or caught red-handed at a crime scene. Or both.

Robin, bless her soul, doesn't beat around the bush. "I told you I had a plan. This," and she points to Eddie of all people, "is my plan."

"That's Eddie," Steve states the obvious, but he feels he can't be blamed. Nothing makes sense, so he's glad for every single thing he knows. Then the rest of her statement sinks in.

Blinking at her, his eyes wide, he says the first thing that comes to mind. "You can't be serious!"

There's no way she's saying what he thinks she's saying. Because right now it looks like her plan to help him get his inheritance involves marrying Eddie. Which, no. No, no, no, no. Not Eddie. Maybe she means some other plan that Steve has forgotten. Like Eddie helping him with Dustin's birthday surprise, which sounded much more likely than -

"I told you he didn't want to marry me," Eddie's voice sounds loud in the stunned silence after Steve's reaction. "This was a stupid idea, I don't even know what I was thinking." Then, addressing Steve with his eyes somewhere to Steve's right, "Listen, man, I'm sorry. I totally get it, no hard feelings, okay? I wouldn't want to marry me either."

The wry chuckle doesn't sit well with Steve, nor does the way Eddie still refuses to meet his eyes, or the fact that he's started walking toward their front door. Before he can think about it, his hand wraps around Eddie's arm as he passes Steve on his way out.

"Eddie, wait." Eddie does, looking at Steve's hand wrapped around his forearm. Steve's grip isn't tight, so Eddie could easily break free, but he doesn't. He just looks, quietly waiting. Still not meeting Steve's eyes.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I was just surprised, okay? A little warning would have been nice." The last part is mostly for Robin, who at least does look contrite at his words.

"It's fine, Steve, really. Don't worry about it. Now, if you'll excuse me. Places to be, things to do, see you when I see you, you know the drill."

Steve could let him go, maybe should let him go, because Eddie is obviously embarrassed and the whole situation has gone south anyway. But Eddie doesn't sound fine, and Steve feels terrible about his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Something that is usually Robin's specialty.

So instead of letting Eddie walk out of the apartment, Steve steps in front of him to block his way. "Eddie, please wait. I really didn't mean it the way you think I did, you have to believe me. You're a catch, okay? Anybody would be lucky to marry you."

And okay, wow, he didn't mean to say that, but it's the truth.

"You really mean that?" Eddie asks, pulling a strand of hair in front of his mouth. It looks incredibly cute and Steve wants to kill Robin for putting him in this position. She had said that he would not like her plan and that should have been reason enough for him to stop her. Because now he's between a rock and a hard place.

Either he lies and lets Eddie walk away thinking he's not good enough to be married, even if it is a scam to get his grandmother's inheritance. Or he tells the truth and risks getting his heart broken or their friendship ruined.

Because the thing is, Steve means every word. Steve has had a crush on Eddie for years. He's been able to keep those feelings in check because he and Eddie never spend time alone together. It's always group hangouts, or Eddie being there when he and Robin visit Chrissy, or Eddie joining them when they meet at their apartment. It also helps that Eddie keeps his distance from him. Sure, he's nice enough to Steve, but every time Steve tried to get close to the other man, his efforts were rebuked until he got the memo and stopped trying.

Before he can come to a decision, Robin steps in.

“I’m sorry we’re springing this on you, Steve. I could’ve prepared this a little bit better but Chrissy and I were so excited that we found the perfect solution, we couldn’t wait any longer.”

“And this is the perfect solution,” Chrissy jumps in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tell him Robin!”

Infected by Chrissy's enthusiasm, Robin’s voice carries an equally excited note. “You said it yourself, you’d need someone we can trust. And you trust Eddie, don’t you?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes on him. “Of course I do.” He doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath next to him at his decisive tone. Eddie’s a great guy, him rejecting Steve’s advances doesn’t change that.

Of course he trusts him because Eddie never gave him any reason not to.

But he remembers the stories Chrissy told them to explain why Eddie was a little wary of Steve. Apparently, Eddie didn't have it easy growing up. Chrissy wouldn't go into details because it's Eddie's story to tell, but she did mention that people used to treat Eddie like a criminal, a fuckup, trailer trash. Especially the jocks and rich kids at their high school, so since Steve was kind of both, Eddie had been wary of him.

So much so that Steve had overheard Eddie asking Chrissy once, early in her relationship with Robin, why Robin kept bringing that rich asshole jock over all the time. The words had hurt, but Chrissy's explanation had softened the blow. Still, he'd stopped trying to flirt with Eddie after that because he'd figured that even if Eddie came to accept him, he'd never be interested in going out with someone who reminded him so much of all the bullies in high school who had made his life a living hell.

All of which makes it easy to see how Steve's implicit trust could come as such a surprise to him. Which still kind of stings, because Steve had hoped that the last four years had shown Eddie that Steve was not what Eddie expected him to be just because he grew up rich and popular and into sports.

Before he can get lost in his thoughts about Eddie and what he has to do to earn Eddie's trust the way Eddie has his, Chrissy chimes in again, raising a finger. "So you trust Eddie. That's like the most important thing. Second," she raises another finger, making a playful peace sign in their direction, "Eddie's single. Not like Robin."

Ah, okay, Steve can see why Chrissy is so excited about her and Robin's 'plan'.

"'m sorry, Chrissy, for proposing to your girlfriend," Steve sheepishly apologizes, giving her a crooked smile, which she returns with a sunny one of her own.

"No hard feelings. I get it, believe me. Being with Robin means being stuck with you. Just like Robin is stuck with Eddie. Which is the third reason why this is a great idea," she adds, raising another finger. "We all spend a lot of time together already. Nothing really needs to change."

Aside from the fact that Steve secretly wishes things could change between him and Eddie, he's not so sure that's true. But to argue her point would mean revealing more about his feelings than he's comfortable with, so he lets it slide for now.

Objectively, Steve knows they're right. If he didn't still feel... something for Eddie, he probably wouldn't even hesitate. Because yes, he trusts Eddie not to screw him over, and he's also a close acquaintance who's been teetering on the edge of being a real friend for years. But he's also the reason Steve had to leave last year's Friendsgiving party early because Eddie showed up with some guy who couldn't keep his sleazy hands off of him. It drove Steve crazy to see someone else have what he wanted so badly.

In the end, it is the thought of being able to give Max all the chances she deserves that finally makes him look back at Eddie.

"And you're sure you want to do this? Fake marry me, I mean. Because, Eddie... I can't tell you how much I appreciate you being willing to do this to help me out, but... you don't have to do this, okay? It's not your mess or your fucked up family, it's mine."

Finally, Eddie is looking back at him, meeting his eyes.

"I do. Wanna do this, I mean. I know I don't have to, but -" Here Eddie pauses, apparently searching for the right words. After a few seconds he breathes a sigh and continues. "Look, for once, I love the idea of sticking it to an old homophobic hag, so that's a big incentive. Also, I was actually hoping you could help me out as well. Because there's this amazing record store that's for sale, but the bank refuses to give me a loan unless I have some kind of collateral. So I'm kind of hoping that being married will sway them."

At Steve's surprised look, Eddie hastens to add, "I don't want your money! That's for you and Max. Just the fact that I'm married to someone with money will probably be enough. And we can totally do a prenup or something like that."

Eddie sounds anxious, like he's afraid he's said something wrong, when in fact he's doing Steve a huge favor and asking for something incredibly small in return. Steve thinks he can't be blamed at this point, he just has to touch Eddie. So he does, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Eddie. Really. Of course we can go to your bank and convince them to give you the loan. It's the least I can do to thank you."

It feels good to be holding Eddie like this, even more so when, after a moment's hesitation, Eddie hugs him back. Even though they've known each other for years, Steve can count the times they've done this on one hand. It's never lasted this long either, and Steve can't suppress his disappointment when Robin interrupts the quiet moment by clapping her hands excitedly, causing Eddie to pull away.

"Oh, I'm so glad we worked it out. Go us!"

Chrissy, just as excited, jumps up and down next to Robin. "I'm so happy for you guys! We can totally help you plan the wedding. It's going to be great, I know it."

Steve and Eddie look at each other in growing confusion.

"Chris," Eddie begins, his voice careful. He's clearly more experienced in dealing with an overly excited Chrissy, so Steve lets him take the lead. "You do realize that Steve and I are only getting married on paper, right? I don't think -"

"You can still have a wedding!" Chrissy interrupts, clearly not deterred by anything silly like pragmatism or logic. "It's still a special day, and you deserve to celebrate it with your friends and family."

Before Steve can say anything - what, he has no idea - Robin jumps in on the ‘you should have a real wedding’ party.

"Besides, it has to look real, right? Why wouldn't you have a real wedding if you were getting married? Everyone would wonder. It's just easier to pull out all the stops and make it look as real as possible so no one will question it."

And that... actually made a lot of sense. Goddammit.

Looking at Eddie with an apologetic look on his face, Steve says, "I guess she's right," and shrugs his shoulders in a ‘I wish she wasn't, but what can you do’ kind of way. Eddie, to his credit, just sighs and nods, accepting his fate with as much grace as he can. He glances at Chrissy, who is almost vibrating.

"Fine. Chris, do you want to help us plan a wedding?"

She actually squeals. "Yes, yes, yes!" Then she rushes over and pulls them into a group hug.

Steve, looking over Chrissy's head at Robin, opens his arm. "Come here, Buckley." It's all the invitation Robin needs to join their celebratory hug.

For just this moment, Steve allows himself to feel as if this is all real, him and Eddie announcing their wedding and their two best friends in the whole world sharing in their happiness. It's a nice feeling, and when he leans his head on Robin's shoulder and looks at Eddie, he finds him looking back with the same soft smile on his face as the one Steve thinks must be on his own.

[starrclown]

I've see ALOT of LMK angst and I have nothing better to do (cause it's late at night) and I'm not working on my LMK apocalypse au right now sooo-

LMK ANGST HEADCANNONS

Triggerwarning for Violence, Blood, Suicidal thoughts, and other general upsetting topics.

(Feel free to leave yours below. Let's make these characters sad together!)

:D

Pigsy gets upset when people joke about Wukong being Mk's dad. It's insulting to him, the one that raises Mk since he was so little.

Wukong is someone that craves physically touch but also can't stand it. It stems from all the violence he's been apart of + the crown messed him up alot. He was SUPER uncomfortable with Mk touching him in the beginning. It has to be on his terms if you wanna touch him.

Macaque doesn't have a heart beat anymore.

Because of Macaque never coming back when Wukong needed him, Wukong had no trust that Macaque will come back if they have a argument. He assumes that Macaque is just gone and gets upset about it. Eventually Macaque comes back and realizes Wukong's upset but he doesn't bring it up cause he doesn't know how.

Redson doesn't really understand why his father doesn't seem to like him. He assumed that his dad would be overjoyed to see him again, not how he's acting now.

Mei had many breakdowns because of her grades and the pressure to be a spectacular student.

Pigsy got bullied alot in school for being a pig demon. It wasn't everyone, most people liked him, just a specific group of kids.

To add on to #7, Tang used to beat himself up over not being able to help Pigsy. He HATED seeing Pigsy getting bullied but he knew that if he tried to start a fight he would either get beat because he can't fight or get himself kicked out of school.

Mk gets nightmares of Wukong getting forced into the scroll. Sometimes he wonders what would of happened if Wukong never got out. He usually ends up crying.

The closest thing Sandy ever got to being violent is when one of his cats scared him and he accidently dropped Mo. He cried. Alot. (Mo was fine but he just hates his cats being hurt.)

Sandy still doesn't know Hunstman is dead. He just thinks that Huntsman was scared of him so he never came back. (Guess Hunstmans my favorite and he's dead and i hate it here god dammit.)

No one can say anything about Azure or Azure's death around Wukong because he will get upset. Macaque made a joke one time and Wukong lost his shit. He's still kinda shooken up about it.

Some of the baby monkies recognize Macaque as the one disguised as Wukong that ate the monkey and passed it around. Those monkies REFUSE to be around him. They get violent if they have to be around him.

Nezha wants to see Wukong, Redson, and the others more but his job is so demanding he barely gets to leave.

Wukong physically couldn't be around Tang for long periods of time when they first met. He got more comfortable with him over time but Tang reminded him to much of Tripitaka and he couldn't handle it.

Mei doesn't yell out of anger, like serious anger alot. When she finally yelled at Wukong because of the fire, all Wukong saw was Ao Lie screaming at him. (Stole that headcannon from a friend of mine. Thanks Ainnur you ruined my life.)

Mk brought up the fact that Wukong was willing to put the fire into himself and sacrifice himself, almost certainly killing himself in the process one time. Wukong kinda laughed and just said "Yeah, had to save the world bud. It's a shame Macaque messed up my plan, the world woulda been a little bit more peaceful if me AND Lady Bone Demon died." He wasn't even trying to admit suicidal feelings, he was just being honest. This scared the SHIT out of Mk because Wukong just admitted that he can and will kill himself if he feel he needs too.

Sandy often feels left out of the group and not as important but he doesn't wanna ruin everyone's fun so he stays quiet.

Bai he was ready to die when she was found by the Monkie Gang. She wasn't scared of death anymore.

Bai he was scared of Wukong when they first met face to face. Wukong apologized and explained himself. Over time she got a little more comfortable with him. She understands why he's apologizing but at that point she was so ready to die she didn't care who did it.

Redson wants to be around Sun Wukong again but he doesn't know how to start the relationship again. Same on Wukongs part but he's a bit more forward.

Macaque gets physical in fights fast. Partly cause his fights with Peng, Partly cause of his life before Wukong, Partly cause of Lady Bone Demon. If Macaque thinks a situation will get rough, he'll try to fight but if he thinks he'll lose he'll dip.

Princess Iron Fan unintentionally critiques Redsons's looks all the time. It messes with him alot so he's quite insecure.

Mei feels the need to always be upbeat and cheerful so Mk doesn't sink to far into depression. She can tell when he does this for her but she doesn't bring it up.

Pigsy's worst fear is that Mk won't come back home. The nightmares he's had of this is brutal.

I could make more but I'm sleeeeepppy. I'll make a part two one day though. Leave your own headcannons cause seeing other people break down these characters is so fun.

(How some people think Mk will be in season 5)

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[smutinlove]

HEYY

fem reader

*dad figure glenn♡♡

Reader and carl fight because of y/n got jealous of him and enid always being toghether ( or y/n feels like hes slipping away from her)

ANYWAYS THE ARGUEMENTS LASTS FOR HOURS MAYBE? AND THE WHOLE GROUP HEARD IT THEN SHE STORMS OUT AND RUNS OVER TO GLENN CRYING THEN GLENN COMFORTS HER

anyways u choose the ending, ty:)

SURE!!!

<3

enjoy (not proof-read though)

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It was unbelievable. Ever since you and the group had gotten to Alexandria, you and Carl had sort of been slipping away from each other.

Carl had adjusted quicker than you did. You always stayed away from most of the Alexandrians, you only ever communicated with them when you needed something.

But other than that, you despised them. They were always "sitting pretty" and they obviously did not know a thing about hardwork and survival.

Carl had also made an odd friend. A friend which you did not like. You hated her. Her name? Enid. She was oddly close with him, always clinging to his shoulder. It pained you. And you loathed Enid.

After pushing your thoughts away, you heard the door to your bedroom open. When you looked up, your eyes met a mesmerizing azure. It was Carl. "Hey, love," Carl said, making you roll yours eyes.

"Carl, it's almost midnight. Where have you been?" You asked, anger slowly seeping into your words. Carl chuckled. "Sorry. I was hanging out with Enid and the guys."

Enid and the guys, huh?

You let out a breathy laugh. "Enid and the guys?" you questioned. "Yeah, what's wrong with that?" asked Carl.

Carl hung out with everyone except you. Hell, he even hung out with Carol. You were worried about him. But you were also mad at him.

"Carl, I can feel you slipping way from me. I love you, you know? You're my best friend and my lover. You're the one, Carl. But I can't stand it! I can't stand you pushing past me all the time!" Tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Y/N, please. I love you too! But I want a life even in this monster-infested world. That doesn't me I'll stop loving you just because I want a life." Carl explained.

"Carl, what the fuck? What about me? You're slipping away from me because of that Enid! And you're losing me." You yelled. You hated saying these things to him, but he needed to know how you felt.

Carl stared at you in disbelief. "Y/N, she's just a friend, I swear!" You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "She's flirting with you!" You yelled. "Why can't you understand that? She is fucking flirting with you. That bitch has a crush on you and if you can't see that, fuck you. Talk to me when you've come to your senses!"

You ran out of your bedroom and went downstairs, only to realize that everyone was awake. It was midnight, why were they awake? Then it hit you. They'd all heard your fight with Carl.

And there stood Glenn Rhee. The man that saved you. The man who gave you your life back. He was like a father to you. He cared about you.

And now you found him staring at you with pure pity in his eyes. "Y/N, dear..." And something in you shattered, your heart was in shambles now.

Hearing his voice ended it for you. Tears once again fell down your cheeks. Everyone took it as a sign to leave, making it just you and Glenn downstairs. You ran to him and hugged him.

"It's okay, Y/N, I'm here for you." He let you cry out your frustrations into his shoulder.

After a few minutes, you pulled away from him. "Thank you, Glenn, for being there for me. You're amazing." You sniffled.

Glenn smiled softy. "You're a brave, sweet, and wonderful person. If Carl can't see that, then he's the one missing out." You nodded at his reassuring words.

It had been a few days since your fight with Carl. You had avoided Carl and tried not to think about him. But whenever you thought you'd gotten rid of him from your mind, he'd suddenly appeared in front of you and beg for your forgiveness.

It was getting old.

Now you sat at the edge of your bed, tying your shoelaces when you heard the door creak open. You looked up, your eyes met a pair of azure blues. "Carl, please, leave."

He shook his head.

"No, not until you hear me out, Y/N," you knew it wasn't gonna end unless you listened to him. "Hurry up."

He got close to your and squatted on the floor.

"I'm sorry, okay? I know how you feel around Enid and I should've listened to you. But the thing is, she likes you, love," your eyes widened.

"Yeah. I guess... maybe I should be worried." Carl joked, causing you to smile. "I love you, okay? I would kill everyone for you. You're my family. I don't know how I'll live without you."

You blushed. "You definitely know how to make a girl smile."

───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

I WOULDVE DIED FOR YOUR SINS, INSTEAD I JUST DIED INSIDE AND YOU DESERVE PRISON BUT YOU. WON'T. GET. TIME.

SIUDEINCFJCFEO

sorry

anyway send more reqs!!! i had so much fun writing this <3

[pilot-boi]

( @pilot-boi Only way I figure out how to gift this post to you.)

Original Image/Artist @pilot-boi

I know we’re in Mafia Mode, but I am thinking about Them

==> Short Inspired by Above Image by @novankenn<==

Jaune had always been told if you held someone in your heart, they were never truly gone. He really hoped that was the case, because in his fragmenting thoughts he was afraid, terrified of forgetting her. Of loosing the one more than real connection with her. The kiss they shared had been their first, and heartbreakingly their last. Yet the feeling of her lips was like an ethereal dream. One Jaune wished he would never wake from.

Even though he was with Ren and Nora, camping at Yang and Ruby's place, Jaune still felt lost and alone. They were waiting for Ruby to awaken, if she ever did to make a decision. Do they pursue the one lead they have about Cinder and her team? Or do they follow the example of other teams like CFVY and transfer to one of the other academies to continue their training?

Jaune as much as he wanted to hurt Cinder. To make her feel the pain he was sure the psychotic bitch had caused Pyrrha, he also wanted to gather more support. Cinder had bested Ozpin and Pyrrha, in single combat. They need more manpower. That was the only way he could see them getting a win.

"Chilly." Jaune commented to himself near the forested edge of the Xiao Long homestead. Crossing his arms over his chest, he started to rub his upper arms, trying to get some heat back in them.

He started to rub his arms with more vigor, as his shoulders were suddenly flooded with a bone deep chill. He looked about, checking the tree branches to see if there was a breeze. There was no movement. The air was as still as a grave.

"What the hell?" Jaune muttered seeing his breath before his eyes. That wasn't right. It was summer. There is no way the air was that cold. At least not naturally.

Jaune glanced about him, trying to pinpoint the source. His mind racing through the old stories, and folk lore his grandmother used to try and teach them as children.

"This is crazy..." Jaune whispered, before clearing his throat, to speak with a clear voice. "Pyrrha?"

A sudden bone chill invaded him. Wrapping about him as if he was being embraced in a hug from behind. Jaune's breath came in short gasps.

"I'm sorry." Jaune whimpered out, as tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough, that I let..."

"No Jaune." It was so soft that he could barely hear it. "It wasn't your fault."

The feeling of bone biting cold fell away and Jaune turned. His sorrow filled azure eyes suddenly regain some of their spark. He could see her.

"I never wanted to hurt you..." Pyrrha spoke, her voice was like the whisper of the gentlest breeze, but Jaune heard it. Tears still rolled down his cheeks, but the barest hint of his normal smile was upon his face, and his shattered heart at least felt partially patched.

"I miss you so much." Jaune whispered, unable to do anything but look upon the wispy, translucent form of his partner.

"I miss you." Pyrrha responded, a soft smile on her lips, "I'm never leaving you side again."

AHHHHHH MY HEART

[aleiiii]

-slides in to the ask box with I.V bag.-

Angst thought of the day for you my friend

How did Na react to Wukong's prison ( that piece of scroll of memory Azure trapped him in ) get sliced in half? With the thought of maybe never being able to get him out again?

And would she insist on going into the scroll with MK and Macaque? And to see him (Wukong) so broken inside as he relives some of his worst mistakes?

hello frosted 🤭

It already worried Nà to death enough knowing he was trapped in the scroll and currently in the grasps of Azure. It was another punch seeing the tablet get sliced. I feel like for everyone there, it felt like a drop in their stomach.

After this, it’s when MK takes this leave, and the others are onto their training arc with master Subodhi. I’ve had the idea that Nà might have some sort of support power (similar to tang), and I believe I might’ve mentioned it in the other angsty posts hehe. BUT taking that time to hone in on her powers, however can’t focus because she’s too entirely focused on never seeing Wukong again. In the training, it might be addressed that her dependence on Wukong is ultimately her downfall, and would only have to trust that they will be able to get him back ( he is Monkey King after all!) Also other tidbit on Nà having to overcome her own issues, her being dependent on Wukong’s attention is what made her happier, but ofc it’s backfired when he’s not around- this coming from her being kind of lonely in her life in Megapolis, away from her family, and not having many friends (yet).

ANYWAYS

we come back to the point where they get the sliced tablet thingy

Definitely a stress crier

And finally her trying to tag along with Mac and MK into the scroll. Macaque would be so very against the idea, it’s far too dangerous and he wouldn’t want to risk putting her in such a predicament. I think it would be funny for Nà to see both of the monkey boys coming back out from the scroll and being nicer (?)to each other. As from the incident with possessed Wukong and LBD would’ve tarnished their relationship just a bit. In the moment where they find Wukong, there’s an understanding between the two that Wukong wants to be better in his ways.

Maybe the three of them from then on out would have a better relationship… maybe learn how to share Nà

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

THE WORD NO ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

warnings: swearing

a/n: hello there!! im actual having so much fun writing this series and every so often a new idea will come to me and im just like YES I LOVE THAT WRITE U LAZY SHIT. (does the screaming at myself work? sometimes like right now) hence why we're here on a randomly tuesday. also this is shorter because im dying and need to sleep so bad

☾. ⋅

"i'm gonna throw up!" lia groans from her chair.

"get over it you oversized walrus."

"WALRUS?"

you sit back in your chair watching as your two friends bicker over cake. not even fighting over who gets the last piece, but who ate the most and who is gonna be the sickest.

"I AM NOT A WALRUS THANK YOU VERY MUCH-"

"do they always argue this much?" the voice of the person you'd hoped to forget about asks. you barely contain your eye roll as you turn to him.

"yes. it gets rather annoying when they start to act like middle schoolers." i say getting louder with each word. lia shoots me an offended look and riley all but leaps out of her chair and launches the throw pillow she was sitting on at me. she says high school was the worst years of her life and never wants to hear us talk about her from back then.

"i'm sorry i can't hear you over here talking about shit i don't know about," she smiles fakely and sits back down returning to her bickering.

"did that answer your question?"

"...yeah."

"y/n! percy!" stacey calls walking into your living room.

both of you groan in unison when you see stacey and lauren walking towards you with serious faces. you shoot percy an annoyed look and smile - painfully - up at stacey. "whats up?"

"its your birthday this weekend y/n."

percy's eyes flick to you clearly not knowing that.

"and what would you like us to do about that?" you ask stacey.

she pauses and looks at lauren for conformation, when lauren nods she continues on. "we'd like you to announce your relationship. go public. on your birthday. or well more like at your birthday party."

another pause.... "with a kiss."

"what the fuck?" both of you say again. stacey and lauren hid grins behind obviously faked sincere looks.

"I know this might suck-"

might suck. right cause we're obvisouly besties that have been joined at the hip from the womb and are secretly in love with each other. sure.

"but, with y/n's new album announcement coming out soon we thought it would boost both of your statuses." stacey smiles trying to convince you.

"i don't need the extra publicity!" you snap your head to percy. "oh for the love of god, can you shut up while i'm trying to talk? you're acting like we're old withered and grey and trying to sync our sentences so we say the same shit as we die."

a snort erupts from across the room where the bickering has now stopped and lia and riley have their heads buried in a pillow to stop from laughing.

"just think it over yeah?" stacey says to you as lauren drags a reluctant percy away to talk. "we literally came to this resort so we could get pictures for the two of you, it was a four hour flight. a kiss shouldn't be too bad."

"yeah for you," you grumble as stacey walks out shaking her head.

"believe me i would love to take your place," lia says plopping down in the seat next to you.

"of course you would."

"i could never not do something like that how could you?" she huffs.

"the word 'no' lia, its pretty cool."

"besides your party is the best place to do it. and the theme is going to be amazing. black and white baby!"

"shh walrus clearly y/n is going through something right now!" riley shakes her head.

"excuse me?"

you groan. its going to be a long night.

☾. ⋅

next week.

percyjackson posted

yn.official posted

☾. ⋅

☾. ⋅

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you]

@lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle,

@azure-drag0ness, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus,

@avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, @user-3113s-blog, @officiallyalbino

@gloryhaddock, @kozumesphone, @moonlightwonderlan, @starxshining, @taintedrosee

@lovelyygirl8, @cleothefrogo, @sungjinwoomybeloved, @hearts4li, @amandareids

@mirrorballdickinson, @gabrielle-tia, @riordanness

[stilessflannel]

hey !!

im not sure if reqs are open or not i just wanted to atleast try..!!

may i req an percy x fem!reader thats similar to ame in NSO

(general headcannons pls!!)

like shes a streamer that also REEKS of bpd/j (i have bpd dw)

but also into the style cutecore instead of jirai-kei..?

but in general she's slightly unstable yet a SUPER popular streamer?

thx thx thxxxxx!!!! >w<

unfortunately i don't know ame-chan at all so i'm so sorry if this req isn't brought to justice 😭 🙏 stay strong with your bpd lovely >w<

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ PERCY JACKSON X GAMER!READER HCS

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 HOW IT STARTED

➴ percy had stumbled across your livestreams while he was in manhattan, camp half-blood being a few months away from starting for the summer

➴ he recognised your face from around camp - he was about to click off your stream as you normally kept to yourself at camp and he thought you were another struggling streamer

➴ but seeing your view count rise up by the thousands every minute intrigued him. your stream consisted of you lounging in your gaming chair, quickly switching between chatting about whatever was on your mind or picking fights with trolls in your comments that you destroyed with quick, witty remarks.

➴ if there was one word to describe percy jackson, it would be: sassy

➴ so seeing that you also didn't give a shit

➴ nice

➴ naturally he gave you a follow and continued watching all your streams

➴ so when he saw you at camp the next summer he immediately came up to you and started chatting about your livestreams and the topics you seemed to love discussing with your vast audience

➴ seeing your face light up when he mentioned he was a big fan of yours made his cheeks burn red (whos wouldn't if someone like you smiled at them, bffr)

➴ and the rest, as they say, is history

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 HOW IT"S GOING

➴ beach picnic dates >> percy loves being in the presence of the two things he loves the most in this world - the ocean and you.

➴ you stream some of the dates he takes you on around manhattan and all of your followers love you two so much!! whenever a troll comes in the chat you and percy ridicule them so much they leave

➴ at camp pulling off intricate pranks on Mr. D to the delight of your fellow campers (and chiron)

➴ you sitting at the poseidon table during meals to keep percy company because who wants their boyfriend to sit alone :(

➴ you sat with your siblings once after he threw your favourite meal across the dining pavilion at the ares table and he was depressed for a whole week

➴ sneaking off into the forest and making out behind trees while the campers are at the campfire >>>>>>

➴ lots of training together one on one, the challenge he's set you is every time you beat him in a sword fight he'll give you a kiss (he goes easy on you just to have an excuse to make out)

➴ through your highs and lows of raging emotions, percy's always there for you - always there to make you laugh, always ready with a comeback to your quips, always ready to wrap you in a big bear hug and never let you go. he loves every part of you because you're perfect the way you are <3

taglist: @izzieluvsdelusion @azure-drag0ness @vivi-anasan @percyssunlithope @amandareids @raysmayhem-72 // join the taglist here

[semisolidmind]

So... how would the scene play out with Azure helping MK, Mei, and reincarnated Peaches go? Would he take the opportunity to yoink Peaches with Sun Wukong and/or Macaque trapped in the scroll (if that even happens)?

Or if he successfully becomes Jade emperor would he let the power get to his head and hold Peaches captive?

These are just some scenarios that have crossed my mind, feel free to ignore!

ooooohoohoo skye i love your questions

we'll just go with modern twice as bad au, to keep this relatively simple. it takes place in the lmk timeline; wukong and macaque are big bad guys, mk was raised by wukong and looks naturally like his monkey self, reader in the current era is a reincarnation of the reader from the past who was killed whilst on the journey with her two demon husbands, said husbands have been intermittently causing trouble and flirting with her every chance they get. reader works at pigsys alongside mk as the cashier/other delivery person, and is friends with the gang.

so, i imagine this is happening after the final lbd fight, but in this au wukong and macaque are also big bads, so their helping to defeat her is more because mk asked than out of any sense of heroism. they're still very much evil, they insist, and after that little bout of heroism they go back to being the bastards everyone knows them as. buuuut just a bit more tolerant of mk's friends (mostly because reader has influenced them with kindness bit by bit up to this point, shoujo-protagonist-style).

wukong invites reader to come to the mountain with mk after his monster-of-the-week battle with the twin metal demons in order to "help them organize" all the junk the kid is bringing home. really, he just wanted to get reader to the mountain so he could see her again and tease her (maybe she inadvertently admitted to finding him attractive in a heated moment the last time they met, during the big battle. like, telling him to get his big dumb handsome head in the game or smth idk). macaque joins in on the teasing too, of course.

mk, ever oblivious to his caretakers blatantly flirting with his coworker, opens the memory scroll by mistake. it almost gets him, if not for macaque quickly grabbing him by the back of his shirt and tossing him out of the way. unfortunately, this means the six-eared demon is absorbed into the ink. mk turns to wukong for help, and is firmly told to take reader and run. wukong stops a strike from the ink entity before being absorbed as well. reader and mk call out for them, but run for their lives until they get beyond the scrolls reach.

they go back later with their friends, the gang excluding mei get absorbed, and they're saved by a lion demon who introduces himself as azure.

the newcomer pauses when he looks at reader, a strange, stricken look crossing his features, almost as if he recognizes her. he looks like he wants to say something...but the moment passes and he continues his introduction. the two teens insist on going to save their friends (kinda ignoring reader's concerned voice in the bg), and he eventually agrees to help them.

the monkey demon boy and dragon girl go into the scroll (with the same reckless excitement they display in every other aspect of their lives), leaving reader behind with an unfamiliar demon. the distrust must show on her face, because said demon maintains his distance with the promise that he means her no harm.

azure tries to reassure reader, and offers to answer the many questions he's sure she has.

azure would explain the story a bit more in depth to reader (spinning it in his favor, of course). he would tell her the truths the monkey demons are hesitant to say; how reader's previous incarnation was a captive wife to the so-called great sage and his general, how monstrous the two really were, just how much bloodshed and chaos they caused... even when in service of the great monk.

reader is stunned—but not as surprised as she thought she'd be. anyone who pays even the slightest mote of attention to the world around them could tell you about just how much trouble the infamous monkey king is responsible for. kidnapping and hostage-taking seems tame in comparison.

when azure tells her point-blank who she used to be, reader goes silent. she's always felt a strange pull in her chest whenever she's around wukong and macaque. like she wants to get closer, but also wants to run as far away from them as she can. it's sobering to know why. she feels something similar when she looks at azure, she admits.

he chuckles fondly at her. it makes sense, he says, they used to be close after all. among the monkey king's allies, he was the only one who befriended the human queen of flower fruit mountain. azure assures her that her previous self was a kind person, that she had many friends who mourned her passing; himself included. reader says nothing, too stunned to speak.

azure lion rises from where he sits, stating that he must move the ritual site to his own home in order to bring the many victims of the scroll safely out. reader insists that she go with him. no offense, but i don't trust you with them, she says. azure chuckles, agreeing that blindly trusting someone you've just met wouldn't be very sensible. the two travel to camel ridge, and azure gives reader a tour.

---

sometime later, mk and mei bring each of their friends back to their present selves. they manage to free themselves as well (after mk has an...enlightening encounter with the scrolls' curse about his human half). they learn some interesting things about their past selves, and their many foes. they break themselves out of the scroll and confront azure about everything they've seen.

azure is holding reader hostage. the lion pins reader to his chest, and she struggles in vain to escape his grip. she yells, hurriedly telling them that azure isn't a good guy, he—! the lion moves his paw over her mouth. his expression is grim as she claws at the appendage.

the gang barely hold back from attacking him, not wanting to hurt reader in the process. though mei stubbornly tries to land a strike at the lion's head, getting knocked back.

azure says he didn't want to do it this way, but...he can't have anyone messing up his plans.

perhaps he puts reader into a scroll peice, right before the very eyes of her friends.

they stand horrified as she dissapears. azure glances at the scroll peice, tracing the characters of reader's name with his eyes. his expression softens a bit. he delivers his monologue to the gang, azure frees his brothers, they attempt to fight, the gang flees when their weapons are taken. they hate to leave reader behind, but... they're outmatched.

---

reader is forced to relive key moments in her past life as captive queen of the monkey king and the six-eared macaque. she learns more about them than she ever thought she would (way, way more; some of those memories were spicy 👀). she begins to understand why they treat her like they do, despite her seemingly being just another of mk's friends.

she plans on confronting them about it once she's been freed.

meanwhile, the gang is training and getting better, trying to figure out how to get both reader and wukong's scroll peices back. reader's peice is better hidden than wukong's, and so it'll be more difficult to recover. they have no idea where macaque's peice is, but one mystic monkey on their side is better than none. they know the two warlords are their best bet for defeating azure and the brotherhood.

thanks to some quick thinking, somewhat of a plan, and a whole lotta luck, the gang recovers wukong's scroll peice. they repair it, and it only takes a bit of prying from mk to get him out. the ginger-furred demon really doesn't like dwelling on his memories.

the rage radiating off the newly-freed monkey king is palpable. the hatred he feels for his once-allies is a force all on its own. now, mk and the gang just need to unleash it.

everyone is on edge during the battle, choosing to keep their distance and do their part while monkey king and mk fight azure. wukong demands to know where reader is. what have they done with her? if they laid even a single hand on her their lives are forfeit, he promises. he and azure fight for a while, trading jabs and airing out their grievances... to kinda everyone? the friends never would've guessed monkey king had romantic drama, but here they are.

it's likely they don't get reader's scroll peice back until later. i imagine macaque, after being freed (maybe it's revealed he was never trapped at all and it was just a trick; he sank into a shadow, not the ink, and that's why they don't see him in the scroll; watching and waiting for the right time to strike), sneaking into the jade palace to find her. he knows that the lion would keep her someplace he thinks she won't be in danger of being broken. when mac does find her (hidden by the throne, wrapped in a part of the lions' old cape), he handles the scroll peice as gently as glass, pressing it to his chest as he leaves the palace. he'll be the one to bring her out. he was her favorite, after all.

(kinda phoning in this part cause ive run outta steam)

the big battle happens, the gang defeats azure, they kill him, it's real sad, things sorta go back to normal. i imagine that wukong, macaque, and reader will have to have a long talk about everything.

[songsofadelaide]

Race Against the Sunset

cw/tw: Duke Fraldarius Felix x Princess reader, Azure Gleam route spoilers, no use of yn, childhood friends to lovers, family drama and trauma, long flashback, swordsmanship references, mentions of the deaths of loved ones, marriage of convenience turned loving marriage. wc: 16k (I am going to cry again) ୨୧ This fic will not use 'yn' and instead follow my usual naming convention. Please kindly see yourself out if you're uncomfortable with fics using placeholder names for the reader. I do not use 'yn' in any of my fics. I still use 'you'/second person pronouns and write with a generic (f) reader in mind. The name isn't mentioned often and is just for my preferences since I find it jarring to write 'yn' frequently. Thank you for understanding!

For a moment, he remembered that week you spent in their estate at Fraldarius territory many years ago. He recalled the singing of the young women employed in their estate's kitchen and how you sang along as you helped in meal preparation, even though you weren't supposed to be there because you were a guest. Those were hymns to the Goddess even he was unfamiliar with.

"Blessed are they who bask in the splendour of Gloriana's unreachable, empyrean domain!"

Felix had never been a pious child even from the beginning, even though the Kingdom of Faerghus' roots were so deeply intertwined with that of the Church of Seiros. Yet here was a girl who made him worship the very ground she walked on. 

The succession crisis between the two princes of House Blaiddyd was played out like a melodrama. Birth order meant little in the Kingdom, where a singular truth prevailed time and again: those born with Crests were destined for greatness, and the Crestless would have to settle for what would be handed to them. 

You were born to your parents on the fifth day of the Harpstring Moon in Imperial Year 1163, four months after the birth of your cousin, who would become the Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Dimitri's birth overshadowed yours, a fate your father believed you shared, given his position as a king who never became. 

Much to everyone's amazement, Prince Rufus doted on you immensely, so much that he seemed more human than the decrepit stand-in many thought him to be. Your father loved you dearly. How could he not? When you were born with the very thing he lacked, the blessed blood that made him so different from his younger brother, the sole reason he fell so short of becoming the king himself. Rufus cared not that you were born from a mistress mother. You were his blood— and his salvation. 

…But mistress was hardly the correct term to refer to your mother. She hailed from a cadet branch of House Charon and was a distant relative of the current head of the ancient house. That must explain the auspicious mixing of blood between the descendants of Blaiddyd and Charon, which resulted in you being born with a Minor Crest of Blaiddyd— the very same one your cousin possessed. 

When the plague swept through Faerghus, not only did it claim the life of the Kingdom's beloved Queen Consort, but your mother's as well, leaving your father and Grand Duchy household to care for you as you grew older. Rufus had no time to mourn his muse, and it was only after an exchange of condolences between the brothers that the king caught wind of the one thing that kept his older brother sane.  

King Lambert was only made aware of his niece's existence when she turned five years old, a time in which he also searched for appropriate companions for the crown prince. On your fifth birthday, your uncle sent you many an exquisite gift from the capital— a lovely dress the colour of Blaiddyd azure, a tailored coat made of the finest winter fox pelts, a box of delectable sweets from the city's best pastry shop, an ornamental dagger with a mindfully crafted leather hilt— a kind that fit your little hands perfectly— and a letter of invitation to Fhirdiad. While it was addressed to you, it was clear from the tone that it was meant to be read by your father, who only looked at the gifts in disdain. 

Rufus knew the truth behind the gifts and what you symbolised to the nobles of the Kingdom, especially those in the capital. Your existence was a threat to the current state of things and perhaps this invitation was Lambert's way of ascertaining his brother's allegiance to the Crown.

Yet he could not deny the truth of the matter, too. You were part of the Royal Family as much as he was… And the fact that your governess suggested a higher form of education for you only compounded his thoughts. 

"Papa, look! It's so beautiful!" 

Lifting his tired blue eyes from the letter sent by his younger brother, a smile lit his dire face when he saw you don the pristine white coat and twirl around at his feet, your sweet laughter of delight ringing in his ears. 

The coat was of exquisite quality, its paleness further highlighting the features you inherited from your mother— and it pulled at your father's heart so. Many thought him incapable of loving anyone other than himself, but it was clear from the way he tenderly spun you around as you danced that he cherished you. 

"And how beautiful you are, my little star." 

And there was no way that he would let you out of his sight, not even at the king's command.

"The Grand Duke of Itha, Prince Rufus Thierry Blaiddyd, and his daughter, Princess Imogene Aislinn Blaiddyd."

In Imperial Year 1168, Rufus was astounded by the fanfare and celebration that marked his daughter's first visit to the Kingdom capital, and among those who received you at the castle town were the king himself and the crown prince. He had his watchful eye on you as you gracefully curtsied in obeisance to your uncle the king and your cousin the crown prince. The look on Lambert's face softened as he bent down on his knee to receive your little gloved hand in his. "The honour is all ours, my little niece. I know you must be rather tired from your travels, but Dimitri insists on introducing you to his friends…"

"Oh! You're wearing the coat I chose for you! I'm so happy you like it!" Dimitri remarked with a smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes. His face was framed with the same golden hair as your father. "Did you… like our gifts for you?"

"Yes, I did! Even the little cakes were so delicious!" You beamed at the boy dressed in the same Blaiddyd azure as you were, happily recalling the afternoon you shared the said sweets with your father and your governess. The castle at Itha Plains had been your home all your short life, with your father, your governess, and the household staff the only people you've known so far…

"Come with me. I would like to introduce you to my friends," the boy said with an outstretched hand. You hesitated and turned to your father, who only gave you a short yet apprehensive nod of assent. 

"Very well, Your Highness. I—" You stated as you placed your gloved hand in his open palm, and he grasped you with a tremor that called your attention to his face once more. 

"You need not call me that, mine cousin. You and I are family. We are cousins— and you are the only one I have in the world."

Your astonished eyes met his wide blue ones, the weight of his statement still settling in your mind. Dimitri was your cousin, bound by the shared blood of your fathers, and just as he was the crown prince, you were a princess of this country, too. "Very well, Dimitri. I would very much like to meet these friends of yours."

"Such a pretty girl can only take after her mother. Caitlin must be pleased," Lambert remarked as he eyed the children's retreating figures. While you had a semblance of your father, it was your mother's soft features that stood out more when you first came face to face with your uncle. "It does my heart good to see you well, brother." 

Rufus was quiet in his place as he eyed the city alight with merriment. The plague that ravaged the country struck Fhirdiad at its heart, but here it was, beating once more, the castle town so full of life that you'd mistake it for another place or another time. 

"The change is marvellous, wouldn't you agree? All of this was possible with the help of the talented Court Mage…"

He wondered how Lambert's grief did not blind him to the fact that so much had to be done in Fhirdiad if he wished for it to be a dignified place worthy of its glory as the capital of the Kingdom. He had to admit that this was a feat he could not have achieved without losing his mind in the process. 

Rufus nodded at his younger brother, the two of them in their similar signature Blaiddyd azure regalia, yet still different sides of the same shining coin. "It is good to see you, brother."

There was a warmth in the king's face that unsettled his older brother, but it might have been the fact that Lambert was truly happy to host his niece and Rufus in Fhirdiad after many years. "You must tell me all about her. I doubt I'll have the time to speak with my niece myself now that she's with Dimitri. He was most excited to meet her…"

Dimitri's excitement was indeed obvious by the way he led you to his friends, most of whose names and stations you couldn't remember yet, but it was clear from the delighted looks on their faces that they were pleased to have finally met you, the Princess of Itha, and the crown prince's only known living cousin. 

But you heard the whispers as well— men who called you a "usurper"— and only understood the meaning of it all when you were reunited with your father later that day. Rufus did well to politely decline Lambert's later invitation to remain at the capital for the remainder of the week, citing your "homesickness" as the reason for your departure to Itha. 

He couldn't have you hearing those things. You were innocent… until he said otherwise. 

On the carriage ride back to your home, your father held your hand in his. "Did you enjoy your time at the capital, my little star?" 

You happily nodded your assent to his query. "Yes, papa! I had such a fun time with Dimitri and his friends! They were all so nice to me!"

A dark-haired boy was particularly awestruck by your presence, evidently surprised to see the resemblance between you and your cousin firsthand. The nameless boy shyly yet quickly stuffed his present into your small hands, and you held onto it for the rest of the day, the pretty wrapping paper crinkling in your grip. You were only able to ascertain what it was when the ribbons eventually came undone— a little decorative dagger with a blunt blade made of Mythril, the hilt delicately crafted with precious aquamarine stones.

"Will we come back again? To Fhirdiad? Dimitri said that I would always be welcome there… That we would always be welcome there. Because we are a family," you wondered aloud, the ornate dagger still in your hands. "I know that some of the people there hate me… but I would never take what isn't mine, papa. Madam Liadan told me that I shouldn't do it because it's bad… and the Goddess would punish me…"

Rufus was evidently surprised by your statement, which was far too forward for your age. He lamented the fact that he wasn't able to shield your ears from the mindless prattle of the Kingdom nobles under Lambert's file. 

Had he been the one… you would be his heir. The crown princess. He offered you no more words, but simply hoisted you on his lap and held you in his arms until you fell asleep, the exhaustion and excitement of the day finally settling in your little bones. You clung onto the gifted dagger until you arrived back at Itha, refusing to part ways with it even as your father tucked you into bed. 

That night, you dreamed of a dark-haired boy in aquamarine, his hazel eyes disappearing into his smile as he held out a gloved hand to you. 

Following your first meeting, Dimitri often requested your presence at the capital. The boy only spent a day with you but already considered you one of the most important people in his life. Rufus received countless letters of inquiry and invitation and eventually relented— allowing you to visit every once in a while, especially since it was at the crown prince's behest. 

Your visits to Fhirdiad were often short but memorable. While you spoke of the trivialities of your life in Itha, Dimitri often talked about how wonderful it would be to have your constant support and presence with him at the capital. It almost sounded like he was asking you to move there. 

"It's nice to visit every once in a while… But papa has stressed the importance of my presence at home. As your future Grand Duke of Itha, I still have much to learn, and as do you, as our future King," you told him from across your table, laden with a spread of sweet tea and pastries for your tea party for two that afternoon. "Speaking of which, where is Uncle Lambert? I have not seen him since this morning."

"Father is on a campaign further north," the young prince replied to your query. "In Sreng."

"I pray to the Goddess for his safety…" You said rather quietly. "Surely they did not send him there unprepared…"

"You need not worry. Father has the finest men in the Kingdom riding by his side," Dimitri smiled at you. "Even I am not troubled in the least bit. Those men are his closest friends."

Friends. Your memory was jogged. 

"That reminds me… When I first visited Fhirdiad, one of your friends presented me with this lovely dagger," you started, carefully pulling out the tiny ornamental blade from your floral embroidered satchel. "I never got around to asking his name. Your friend with the pretty black hair, I mean."

Dimitri inspected the dagger and easily recognised who it was from by the colour of the gemstones that dotted the hilt. "You must be talking about Felix. He is the second son of Rodrigue, who serves as my father's right hand at present."

"Felix…" 

"If you'd like, mine cousin, I can ask Felix to come here as well on your next visit," Dimitri stated as he returned the dagger to you. "That way, you can thank him for his present."

"I would like that!"

"Your Highness," one of the house's older female servants arrived at the garden where your tea party was being held and gave a quick bow to your cousin. "Your weapons instructor is here. It is time for your lessons."

"Is that so?" Said the boy with a frown. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut our tea time short…"

"Weapons instructor? You mean you study how to use weapons?" You asked rather curiously. 

"Yes. I will have to learn how to properly wield Areadbhar, the Hero's Relic entrusted to our family, though I am still not allowed to hold it, of course…" he replied, catching the curious yet crestfallen expression on your face. "You are to be the Grand Duke of Itha in the future. I believe you should at least know the basics of wielding a weapon. Would you… like to come with me, mine cousin?" 

Dimitri saw the shine of wonder that lit your eyes this time, your excitement clearly uncontainable as you leaped off your chair. "Oh, can I really?!" 

"Of course you can. I will have someone prepare a change of clothes for you," he said with the same warm smile as he beckoned the elderly servant to do as he had told. "But I must warn you. Gustave is a strict teacher. Just as he does not take it easy on me, he will not take it easy on you, too."

And not only was he strict, but an incredibly effective teacher. Despite his apprehension, Gustave was able to drill down the first principles of swordsmanship into you, even as you struggled in the lengthy trousers lent to you by your cousin. He sensed the same potent strength within you so akin to the king— and the crown prince… the blessedness of your blood. 

The power of a Crest. 

The feel of a sword was so different from holding but a mere dagger. You felt its weight in its entirety, dragging your shoulders down unless you put your back into lifting it. As you practised your swings with a blunted iron sword, Dimitri held an iron lance in his slightly larger hands, watching you sweat at your diligent efforts.

"Why did you teach her the sword, Gustave? Aren't axes and lances your specialty?" 

"The sword is easy to teach to a beginner, Your Highness. It seems she has taken a shine to it, too," the older man stated, his tired blue eyes drawn to the corner where you stood, cutting through the air with the dull weapon he chose for you. "I do not want to cause any trouble by teaching her the lance. The princess, she… She must not get the idea that she, too, can wield your family's Hero's Relic. Not only is it a weapon of old, it is a symbol of your sovereignty. She must never aspire to even just hold it in her hands." 

As your visits to the capital grew more frequent, the time you spent with your father grew less. Rufus always made time for you whenever you asked, but it was clear that he was busy with the affairs of Itha and many other discussions that required his attention more and more. Contrary to your initial thought that he would get angry at the swordsmanship lessons you had with Gustave at Fhirdiad, your father was amazed at your skill and the progress you have made so far. 

In fact, Rufus was so pleased with your efforts that he purchased a rapier of excellent quality for you. You and Dimitri only admired it from inside its sheath and leather case as you continued your lessons with the red-haired knight, who marvelled at your shared strength and skill, which was clearly a family trait. 

Gustave no longer looked at you with unease and trepidation whenever he instructed you but with a newfound admiration, especially on the rare occasions when he permitted you and the prince to spar against each other. You declared outright, after all, that you wielded your blade in the service of your king and your crown prince. 

The skirmish between the two young royals would often draw the attention of many knights and squires in the training grounds, who watched in awe at the sight of your shared exerted effort. Many have learned to watch out for stray sparks and splinters whenever your weapons broke apart from yours and the crown prince's sheer strength.

Dimitri was a fierce opponent even at your young age. He never went easy on you but did his best to match your ferocity. You possessed similar Crests which meant you stood on equal ground, even though you were a girl. You didn't see any shame in losing to each other, either, but often considered each loss a learning curve. Your hands— now callused after how many moons of arduous training with the blade— no longer shook as your training sword clashed against your cousin's training lance. 

It was during that sparring match that you encountered the boy who gifted you the aquamarine dagger once more, his present now one of your most prized possessions. 

"So the rumours were true. You have been training the Princess of Itha as well, Sir Gustave. I can only imagine the number of weapons they've already broken," said an older boy with the same long and dark hair as Felix. He eyed the bout between the royal cousins and was both amazed and troubled at how well you could hold yourself against the prince. "It seems His Highness has found himself a stimulating training partner. That saves me some of the exhaustion, at least."

"Well met, Glenn. The princess has proven to be a keen student herself," the older knight stated as he acknowledged the presence of the two brothers. "She will be an asset to the Kingdom in time of need." 

An asset is what many wished you'd be, but there was no denying the disquieting possibility that you may be used against the Royal Family— even though you were part of it, too. 

"Well, here she is, Felix. A far cry from when you last saw her, huh?" The older boy, Glenn, chuckled as he placed a hand on his younger brother's head of dark hair. "You should join them. I'm sure Sir Gustave wouldn't mind another head to look after."

"You're free to join them, Felix. I know you've sparred with His Highness before, but I must warn you that the princess is not someone to be underestimated," Gustave said as he walked over to the centre of the castle training ground to call for a truce between the sparring cousins. 

Felix stood there, his warm hazel eyes following the length of the prince's spear as its blunt pointed end met with the dull edge of your training blade. Dimitri lowered his weapon as his blue eyes fell to your face, a look of concern washing over him when he saw a small scratch on your cheek. He quickly reached out to cup your grazed cheek, but you only laughed as you gently swatted his hand away.

"Are you hurt anywhere else? I must have not noticed…" 

"I'm fine, Dimitri! I swear!"  

It was only when Gustave gestured towards the direction of the spectating young noble that you noticed him, another smile lighting up your face as you and your cousin made your approach. 

"Felix! It's good to see you!" Said Dimitri as he held you by your hand. "My cousin had been looking forward to seeing you again."

"Your Highness," came Felix's rather distant and embarrassed greeting to his friend. He echoed the same sentiment as he finally came face to face with you this time. "Your Highness."

"H-Hello," came your nervous salutation. "I-I wanted to say thank you f-for your present when we first met."

"You're welcome, Your Hig—" 

"You can call me by my name," you stated a bit more confidently this time. "A-Are you here because Dimitri said I wanted to see you again?" 

"I— I am, my lady," the dark-haired boy sputtered as he shifted his gaze from you to the prince, who had a pleased smile on his face that slowly shifted into a chuckle. 

"She said she did not need such formality, Felix. Just as you and I are friends, so are the two of you now," said Dimitri as he reached for his friend's gloved hand. He then brought your hand forward and engaged in a three-way handshake. "Now then, shall we call it a day? I believe you and Felix have a lot of catching up to do." 

"W-We do?" Came your sheepish query. A soft laugh left your lips as you placed a warm hand on the back of your neck. "Well, if… If Felix i—"  

"A-Actually, I would like to c…" Felix stepped up with a more determined expression on his face. "I would like to challenge you to a sparring match, Princess." 

"I—"

"I-If you're amenable to that, of course!" 

"I'd like that very much! I'm sure Dimitri is bored stiff having to spar with me all the time."

"I'm pretty sure you're talking about yourself," the young prince said with a smile and a small sigh of defeat. "Well then, carry on, my dear cousin. If Felix is here, then I'm certain Glenn is as well. He shall be my training partner."

Dimitri approached Gustave and gestured in your direction, clearly advising the older knight of your intention to spar with the second son of House Fraldarius. You adjusted your training clothes and trousers, picked up your sword once more and took a deep breath. 

From your lessons with your governess, you knew that House Fraldarius is a family of warriors. Rodrigue earned his title as the Shield of Faerghus for defending the king in their last military excursion to Sreng. His eldest son, Glenn, was a knight in the making and Dimitri's preferred training partner, seeing as the older boy could keep up with the prince's stamina. 

It was clear from his movements that Felix had the build and stride of a child at ease in battle. Such was their family's claim to success, apart from the fact that they, too, were the progeny of one of the Ten Elites. Your opponent shed his winter coat, a striking aquamarine blue with a collar made of the same fine winter fox pelts his family could afford. In his hands was a similar training sword, and in his eyes was a spark— an obvious exhilaration at having to do battle with an unfamiliar adversary. 

"I won't go easy on you just because you're a princess," he said as he raised his blade and assumed his battle stance. "Just because you're my friend."

His statement was bold yet bright, compelling you to step up to the occasion with the same excitement filling your chest up to your throat. You steadied your feet and raised your blade in response to his declaration. "I welcome the challenge! Come at me, then!"

In Imperial Year 1171, the Saintess, Cornelia, welcomed an Imperial lady to her home, and the King was so besotted by her that he married her in the shadows. Lady Patricia was a kind woman who raised the prince as her own, and yet… There was a certain sadness to her that you couldn't quite put a finger on. It was during one of your visits to Fhirdiad that you were introduced to each other, and the older woman warmed to the idea of having you around as her company.  

That same year, a girl from the Empire arrived in Fhirdiad, too— and there were whispers about her being a princess, too. You saw the delight that lit your cousin's face whenever he spent time with her, a girl whose air of precocious maturity matched the rumoured title she held. The girl, who simply introduced herself as El, taught you and Dimitri how to dance, and took pleasure in gently commanding your movements. 

"You need to learn how to dance, too, Immie. You're a princess, after all!" 

The young prince could only laugh and smile to himself whenever you blundered a step as El's partner. He cherished this memory— of you and him dancing with the girl who wore Adrestian crimson amid the pale blue cold of Faerghus.

There was a sadness in her you couldn't quite comprehend as well, so akin and similar to that of your new aunt. You tried your best to make them feel welcome in the capital, Dimitri even more so, but you both lamented being unable to do anything to ease the burden of their loneliness. 

You could relate to them in a way, especially since you've been seeing your father less and less. The day you last saw him was on the annual New Year's hunt at the Itha Plains, which did not go as planned since Rufus was inebriated from the festivities the previous night. He, along with his counsel and companions, most of whom were family members of the Kingdom's western lords, rode deep into the thicket in the heart of the plains, closely followed by you and your attendants on horseback. 

While it didn't please you to see your father drunk beyond his wits, the very thing you couldn't stand back then was the sight of several noble-born women flocking around him. They lauded his missed strikes, the sound of their shrill voices nothing but grating to your ears. And it annoyed you even more that he relished the attention.

You took the minibow you were equipped with and released a single arrow that struck a startled forest fox, much to the surprise of your father and his counsel and companions. 

"Th… The first ki—" 

You did not even wait for the knight to finish his declaration and rode towards your father with an indignant expression before lowering your head in exaggerated, mock reverence. 

"May you have a blessed and bountiful hunt, Grand Duke," you coldly stated before riding off to the castle, leaving him behind with the rest of his men. You made your way to Fhirdiad not long after, not a single response from your father even after you sent word that you arrived there safely. 

Part of you wanted to return home to Itha to see him. To reconcile with him. But part of you also wanted him to suffer in silence. 

Your seemingly short visits to the capital soon turned into moons. And before you knew it, you were celebrating your birthday with your cousin's family rather than returning home to Itha. Your uncle and aunt were happy to have you there with them, but Lambert understood that you longed for your father, too, though your pride wouldn't allow you to admit it. 

The king presented you with many gifts from his side of the family, but there was one Dimitri did not recognise as theirs— another leather case that contained yet another sheathed blade. "This is from your father. I believe he also has a letter for you."

It was another exquisite sword for you, the Crest of Blaiddyd engraved onto its silver blade. Along with it came a thick fur scarf made of the striking scarlet pelt of forest foxes native to the Itha Plains. You tried to receive the presents without tearing up and only read your father's message in the silence and solitude of your bedchambers after all the festivities celebrated in your name.  

"Happiest Birthday, my little star.  May you use this blade to strike forth and cut a path to your destiny, which I am hard at work to see come to fruition.    Papa misses you so." 

The letter was brief and had little detail, but you could tell from the erratic handwriting that your father was grief-stricken in his attempt at reaching out to you. 

He would have to wait a bit longer. 

The following day was your birthday celebration with your friends, all of whom piled presents upon presents in your arms once more. Despite being Dimitri's friends originally, they welcomed you into the fold as part of their close-knit circle. Sylvain, the heir of House Gautier, gifted you with a classical board game you used to play with your father, while Ingrid, the daughter of Count Galatea, presented you with a pair of fine leather riding boots. 

This year, Felix gifted you yet another dagger, but this time was different, for he had given you a functioning toothed knife rather than another ornamental trinket. 

"The Itha Plains is one of the best hunting grounds in the Kingdom, and perhaps all of Fodlan. As its princess, you're bound to host hunts there sooner or later. I can only hope that this will serve you well," he stated, handing his present to you with a short bow. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, Felix. And to everyone, too, for all your lovely presents! While all of these are so precious to me, the mere fact that you're here to celebrate this day with me warms my heart," you beamed at your circle of friends as they sat across from you, your table in the castle garden filled with sweet and savoury snacks and flowering tea. "I'll be going home tomorrow. As always, I'll carry my time here in my heart… And I hope to be back soon. For now, I have to speak to my father."

"Ah, that reminds me. Felix mentioned earlier that he can accompany you on your way back to Itha before he heads back to Fraldarius," Dimitri stated as he lifted his head from his cup of tea. "Have you not told her yet, Felix?"

"How thoughtful of you, Felix. Though I must tell you now that I have no intention of riding by carriage," you replied to your cousin's statement with a smile before eventually turning towards the dark-haired boy. "I will go on horseback, giving me the perfect opportunity to break in these lovely boots Ingrid got for me."

"And that gives us the perfect opportunity to race, too, Princess," Felix said with a small snort of derision. "That is if you're not against getting those new boots dirty, of course."

"Wanna make a bet while we're at it, too?" You said with a laugh. "The loser will do whatever it is the winner wants."

"Deal."

Dimitri could only shake his head in defeat as he listened to your thoughtless wager. By nightfall, he came to visit your bedchambers one last time before you went your way home. He found you packing your belongings, among those the ornate aquamarine dagger Felix first gifted you years ago. It sat on your bedside table on a special wooden stand carved by one of Grand Duchy's household staff. 

You placed the toothed dagger next to the jewelled one and smiled to yourself. "I have so many knives and swords."

"It is a thoughtful gift. I don't know if this has been taught to you, but we from the Kingdom consider such weapons as tools of destiny. I believe Felix wishes for you to cut open a path forward for yourself…" 

For an object to hold such weight… 

"And though it might be purely ornamental, its message doesn't really change," Dimitri stated as he sat down next to you on the edge of your bed. "You are the Princess of Itha, but if there is anything else you wish to be, you… You have only to tell me. So we can discuss it."

"Well, I…" You started, a sheepish grin now on your face. "It might sound like a girlish dream, a-and maybe it is to you, Dimitri, but I…" 

You beckoned him to lean down so that you could whisper your tender dream in his ear. A gentle laugh left his lips as he nodded to himself. "I think we can do something about that."

"But I will continue doing my best… so that he'll like me for who I am."

"I'm pretty sure he already likes you as much, my dearest cousin."

By daybreak the following morning, a retinue from the Grand Duchy Army was prepared to receive you, and they were surprised to see that you'd already mounted your horse, opting away from the carriage they readied for you. 

Riding beside you was the second son of House Fraldarius, his dark hair already tousled by the calm morning breeze. Several Fraldarius soldiers tasked with his protection shuffled into your retinue's line. 

"We'll race when we catch sight of Itha Castle," you declared as you gave your steed a gentle kick, prompting it forward. "For now, we have all the time in the world to talk, Felix. Have you thought of a prize if you win?"

"I have," came the boy's silent but confident response. 

"I suppose I should think of one now, then."

"We have all the time in the world," Felix echoed your sentiment with a small smile on his face. "Consider it carefully, Princess."

From a view of a map, the Itha Plains was but a stone's throw away from Fhirdiad, but travel to and from still took at least half a day. The boy riding next to you asked you questions about your early childhood— from before you knew him— and even went so far as to ask you about your intentions in the future. 

"I know that many still think I am a usurper… And that no matter how much time I spend in the capital, they will still look at me like I would intentionally cause a succession crisis," you said with a defeated chuckle, but not before raising your eyes to meet his gaze, your vision unclouded and clear of any hint of deception. "I've said it before and I will say it again— I've no intention of taking what isn't mine. When the time comes and if the need ever arises, I will fight for the Kingdom as Dimitri's sword. I've no intention of being Queen." 

"That's reassuring to hear." 

"I'm glad to hear you think that, our future Duke Fraldarius."

By the time the afternoon sun had made its way up in the sky, you and Felix had already spoken about nearly everything you could— and you already spotted your castle's first turret from across the horizon. 

"Race you," you declared to him, gathering your horse's reins before giving it a small yet impactful smack on its behind. Your steed picked up its pace as the path towards the castle slowly tapered upward. While you were sure you had a headstart, you caught a flash of aquamarine in the corner of your eye. Your horses were sprinting alongside each other at what seemed to be equal speeds, but you could only laugh out loud as Felix and his steed narrowly edged you out and arrived at the castle courtyard mere seconds before you could. 

"Welcome home, Princess," the dark-haired boy stated with a small smirk on his fine face. "Expect to see me again soon." 

"I eagerly await that day, Felix," you said with a smile and a nod. "Thank you for taking the time to accompany me back to Itha. Please take care on your way home."

"Dearest ■

How fare you, my dearest cousin? Last I heard from you, you arrived at Itha safe and sound. It does my heart well to know that you made it back home safely.

I only heard from Rodrigue the other day that you spent about a week in Fraldarius at Felix's request. I thought your loss would teach you not to make such ill-considered gambles in the future, but it seems you enjoyed your time there with Felix and his family… Are you perhaps grateful for that loss? It sounded like a win either way.

I am more surprised at how you and Felix managed to convince Uncle Rufus to permit you to go on that excursion. The old man watches over you like a hawk, as far as I know. Regardless, I hope you had fun. 

El says she misses you. I do, too. 

I hope to see you again soon. Please tell me all about your trip to Fraldarius. I am pleased to hear that you and Felix are getting along so well. 

Sincerely yours, 

Dee."

"Dearest Dee,

How fare you, my dearest cousin? I have been well and I hope you are, too. I apologise for my lack of communication with you lately… and for the lack of visits to Fhirdiad. Papa and I had a lot of catching up to do. 

Let us just say we have reconciled and leave it at that. Papa apologised for his mindless actions the last we met and I apologised for my impetuousness. 

Can I ask you how you felt when Uncle Lambert remarried? I am not too keen on the idea, but I suppose papa is still a man… I just wished he would choose his companions wisely.  

And as you already know, I spent quite a vacation at the dukedom. It was not so much a vacation, really, but more of a training camp. From sun up to sun down, Felix and I have done nothing but spar, hunt, and maintain weapons. Lord Rodrigue almost sent me home when Felix made out with their family's Hero's Relic without permission. It's a terrifying thing, isn't it? A Hero's Relic. The shield almost seemed alive and breathing to me. I shudder at the thought of having to wield something so… grotesque. But you've been training for that your whole life. 

I miss El terribly, too. And you, too, of course. 

I'll tell you all about my trip to Fraldarius when I visit Fhirdiad again soon. For now, stay warm and stay safe.

Yours truly,

 ■"

In Imperial Year 1176, your uncle the king perished in the Tragedy of Duscur, along with many other knights and vassals of the Kingdom. Duke Fraldarius lost his son Glenn in the clash, too, and you couldn't shake the thought that something more nefarious occurred in what should have been a peaceful diplomatic mission. 

And even as you pleaded in tears to be allowed to go to Fhirdiad to see your cousin, who had just lost his own father, Rufus did not permit you to go. 

"The Grand Duke is right, Princess. There is no need for you to rush," the Saintess, Cornelia, whom your father had taken as one of his closest companions in more recent times, also dissuaded you from heading to the capital. She spoke of the right moment to make your appearance, which was strange since you wanted nothing but to be by Dimitri's side at that time. 

…Something about your father's calmness about the catastrophe unnerved you. His reaction was almost inhuman, but you didn't want to give it too much thought. He could have been shocked, for all you knew…

By the time you were finally allowed to visit Fhirdiad, your father's regency had been finalised, and the nobles of the capital and the castle's household only seemed to look at you with even more contempt. You did not see much of your cousin even though you remained in there for his sake. The lords loyal to the late king evidently did not want you around the crown prince, either. 

You were almost violently rebuffed that one time you tried to help Dimitri when he was having a panic attack. His unfamiliar guardian from a foreign land shoved you away and spoke to you in broken sentences— both in the language of Fodlan and Duscur. It was only when your cousin placed a reassuring hand on the imposing boy's shoulder and explained to him who you were that he was able to quiet down.

"She is my cousin, Dedue. The only one I have in the world."

Dimitri, who was the sole survivor of the tragedy, was inconsolable for the first few moons after the horrific incident, and even you could not pick up your sword to train without being reminded— without imagining the hellscape he endured and survived— and the eerie feeling that clawed at your chest when you recalled your father's unbothered expression when he received the news of his brother's death. 

Whispers of your father's involvement in your uncle's death did not help your reputation in the capital, either, and the fact that Rufus did little to disengage himself from the rumours only compounded the frigid treatment you've been receiving from the nobles and the castle staff. 

The only ally you ever had was gone, too, driven away by his shame. Everyone had the same response when you asked about Gustave's whereabouts— "He's gone."

At Felix's behest, you were present with House Fraldarius when they held a memorial for Glenn, a true knight of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, or so Rodrigue said… But not even your soothing touch could quell Felix's fist, his entire body seizing in a tempered rage he tried his best to contain. He was not the only one who lost a loved one, after all. And yet, he couldn't stomach how his father glazed over his eldest son's death. No words of embellishment will take away the fact that Glenn was killed horrifically in the Tragedy of Duscur. Felix would resent his father for that.

It was Rodrigue who implored you to return to Itha while Dimitri gathered his bearings. He knew of the grievous treatment you endured in the capital, even more so now that Rufus preoccupied himself with the Saintess's company more than anyone else's.  

"His Highness will certainly ask for you once he has figured everything out, Princess. Return home for now. I'm certain you're tired of all the suspicion yourself."

And you did so, only because it was true that you could no longer abide by the royal household's disdain for you. You did not know that it would take Dimitri four years to reach out to you again, the boy you knew changed beyond recognition. 

In Imperial Year 1178, Dimitri, the Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and Felix, a knight in the making and the Heir of House Fraldarius, were tasked with suppressing an insurrection in Western Faerghus. Many of the knights who accompanied them attested to seeing the prince roll over the rebels with maniacal bloodlust.  

You were half-certain Felix might have developed the same grisly instinct, but you were relieved to find out that he was blatantly disgusted by the boar's unhinged behaviour. The incident prompted him to step away from his knightly vows, his sole intention now was to become a swordsman of unparalleled skill. 

You spent the past few years handling the affairs of Itha as the acting Grand Duke. As the regent, Rufus spent his days holed up in Fhirdiad under the thrall of the Saintess, Cornelia. He did not bother to manage the Kingdom, let alone reach out to his only daughter. 

…Though you knew for a fact that you may not be your father's only child now. 

You received no word at all from Dimitri, either, and you could only assume that he was busy with his responsibilities and studies as the crown prince. 

Or maybe he wanted nothing to do with you, either. 

Still, you handled the affairs of your home with all the knowledge and grace you possessed thus far. You often received wise counsel from the Head of House Gaspard, Lord Lonato, who once served as your father's retainer in their youth.

"Since it is now the Horsebow Moon, I suppose we should open a portion of the hunting grounds to the public…" You stated as you browsed through the stack of documents piling up on the desk in your father's office, which you have used as your own these last few years. "Oh, and the merchants and craftsmen from the Leicester Alliance should be accompanied by members of the plains' official hunting guilds. Many are unfamiliar with just how dangerous the grounds can be…"

Your elderly governess, Madam Liadan, now stood as your sole attendant and counsel while you were acting in an official capacity as the Grand Duke of Itha. She took pride in your expertise and manner of leadership as you steered your hometown in a direction that would benefit its people. 

"A word, Your Grace," came a knock outside the den. "Lord Felix of House Fraldarius has requested an audience with you."

"…Felix?"

True enough, your dearest childhood friend found his way to your home with only a handful of guards. His dark hair was grown out, now kept in a messy bun. His once warm hazel eyes stared down at you with a fierce coldness as he refused to dismount his horse, riding around you and your courtyard as you came face to face with him after how many years. 

"Ride with me, Princess," he stated with a small scoff. "Or are you content playing house and assuming a title that isn't even yours yet?"

"I—"

"We don't have to race this time," he said. "Just talk."

"Call for a stableboy to fetch Aureolin for me," you motioned to one of the household staff present to receive the heir of House Fraldarius. "And have one of the servants fetch my sword, the one from my father. I'm certain the heir of House Fraldarius did not just come here for a horse ride. Or to just talk."

"We shall have an attendant f—" Madam Liadan stated, only for you to cut her off with a mere wave of your hand. 

"There is no need for that, Madam Liadan," you said with a smile that did not reach your eyes. "Lord Felix is my friend. He and I have much to talk about, none of which is any of your business."

You heard a faint chuckle leave the said friend's lips as he steered his mount to the castle gates once more. 

"Receive his good men instead, please. Give them food and drink and allow their horses to graze," you instructed the household staff as you saddled and mounted your steed, Aureolin. "Shall we be off then, Felix?"

Your ride was quiet but meaningful, and it allowed you to rest your mind from all the noise of having to manage your household and lands. Felix noticed the pleased yet pensive expression on your face as he steadied the pace of his horse to match yours. He only spoke once you were in the heart of the plains, far from your meddling governess and the prying eyes of your father's loyal people. 

"Before everything else…" 

"Did you think I'd shirk my training just because I've been busy with paperwork, Felix?" You said with a low laugh as you swiftly dismounted Aureolin and unsheathed your sword. "Come. It's been a while since I had a worthwhile sparring partner."

The sounds of the grass in the plains crunching under your boots and the steel of your swords clashing quickly dissipated in the air, the open field unable to contain even your heavy breathing and heaving as you steadily held against your opponent. 

"Well, I'm glad all of that bureaucracy didn't dull your skill," Felix stated with a smirk and a small grunt as he parried your blow. Your bladework in your youth was wild and untamed, but your hands were more steady now, your strength measured and concentrated in a way that matched his own. "This cursed strength, though—!"

"You aren't so bad yourself," you said with a huff and a laugh. "Let's put our back into this, Felix!"

For a moment, he remembered that week you spent in their estate at Fraldarius territory many years ago. He recalled the singing of the young women employed in their estate's kitchen and how you sang along as you helped in meal preparation, even though you weren't supposed to be there because you were a guest. Those were hymns to the Goddess even he was unfamiliar with.

"Blessed are they who bask in the splendour of Gloriana's unreachable, empyrean domain!"

Felix had never been a pious child even from the beginning, even though the Kingdom of Faerghus' roots were so deeply intertwined with that of the Church of Seiros. Yet here was a girl who made him worship the very ground she walked on. 

Here was his Gloriana, her sword arm unmatched and her skill unparalleled. 

Not that he would ever admit it.  

It was only after you both broke a sweat that you called in a draw. You sat next to each other on the grass, knees and elbows brushing as you each wiped your swords clean with your cloaks, like when you were children.

There was only the faint sound of a calm breeze and the gentle swaying of the grass and weeds as you worked up the blade of your sword. You ran your thumb over the engraving of the Crest of Blaiddyd before eventually asking, "How is Dimitri?"

"Here," Felix stated, further slicing through the silence that enveloped you. He pulled out a single sealed letter from the inner pocket of his cloak and handed it to you. "The boar… has been trying to reach you for the last four years. Did none of his letters ever reach you?"

Letters? From Dimitri? 

You shook your head. "No. Not at all…"

He sighed. "Figures. He said he sent you countless letters, but I wouldn't be surprised if this was your father's doing." 

"My father?"

"Are you so out of touch with reality that you're in denial about what's going on in the capital? The boar no longer has allies there," he scoffed at your ignorance. "I'm not going to sugarcoat things for you just because he's your father. He's doing a terrible job as the regent and if you're going to pretend to be blind to that fact, then you're just as terrible as he is." 

"Felix… My father hasn't reached out to me ever since he assumed the regency of the Kingdom. Ever since Lord Rodrigue urged me to return to Itha four years ago. I wrote him letters but received nothing in return," you stated with furrowed brows after hearing everything for the first time. "And Lord Rodrigue told me that Dimitri would call for me once he's figured things out. The last I heard about him was after the Western Kingdom rebellion. You were there with him. He… must have figured things out by then, but…"

You pursed your lips as you held the unopened letter in your hands. "Part of me thought he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. Many of the nobles of the capital have made it clear that they hold nothing but disdain for me, after all."

"That's not true. The boar could never hate you."

"I feel so foolish," you said, swallowing a sob before it could escape your lips. "I should have stayed there with him."

Felix reached out and wiped away your tears with a callused finger. "No use crying over that now. And trust me— the boar— Dimitri doesn't hate you. He wouldn't have bothered with that letter if he did." 

"Dearest ■

How fare you, my dearest cousin? It certainly has been a while. I can only assume that my previous letters never got to you. You would write to me as soon as you received one, after all. How can I be so sure? Because that is how we've always been. You are my only cousin in the world, the closest thing I have to a sister. You are a friend I know I can trust my life with, regardless of what other people think. 

I've been hearing much about your good work at Itha. Many claim that your political acumen is just as good as your father's, but we can do more about that. I know things must have been terribly lonely for you, yet you handled everything with ease and grace. 

I am writing to you once more to let you know that I intend to enroll in the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach next year. Many of our old friends, including Felix, will be attending as well, and nothing would give me greater joy than being reunited with you— and seeing you amongst the rest of the members of the Blue Lions House. 

Believe it or not, Uncle Rufus and I have spoken about your enrollment, too. He did not say much about it but only agreed, which was all the more surprising given that he hasn't spoken to you much these past few years. I would know since he kept no one else close to him but the Saintess. 

I hope you are taking care of yourself and I truly hope to see you again soon. And maybe we can discuss some of the things that happened back then.

Sincerely yours, 

Dee.

PS: Let us celebrate all the birthdays we missed out on because we were apart."

In Imperial Year 1180, you joined the Officers Academy at the same time as all of the other noble children of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, forming the Blue Lions House under Dimitri's leadership. It was there you were reunited with your cousin and childhood friends and heard the truth about his way of life these last four years— and why his letters never reached you.

You didn't want to believe it at first, but every detail made sense. The Tragedy of Duscur, the death of your uncle, the Western Kingdom uprising, and Dimitri's solitary confinement in his own home… Everything pointed to your father and his obsession with possessing the throne that was never meant for him.

"I'm sorry, Dimitri… All the signs were there in front of me, but I never… I never…" You said, your voice cracking as you sat across your cousin, the tea and sweets no longer appetising and inviting after everything you heard from him. And Dedue, who wanted nothing more but to trust you after everything your father has done. He did not believe in blaming children for their father's mistakes, but you had a mountain of doubt to climb and overcome if he and the rest of the house were to trust you completely.

"It is not you who has to apologise," Dedue stated. "His Highness said before that he trusted you with his life. If you are still that person, then you must prove it with your actions."

"I don't care if it's not my fault, either," you sobbed into your hands this time. "I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for what he's done, I swear…"

It was only after you calmed down and had your tea that Felix approached you, a dour expression on his face as he spoke directly to you, ignoring your companions. "Are you finally done with your whining? Spar with me, Princess."

"Spare me, Felix. I'm too spent to even think about picking up my sword. The monastery is huge and the academic year has just started. I'm sure there are many skilled people just as eager to test their mettle against an unknown quantity…" You replied with a hand on your temple. 

"I'll only be warming up with you," the dark-haired young man said with a scoff and a shrug. "You're right, after all. There won't be a lack of people to spar with here."

"Did you just call me a warm-up session, Felix?" You quirked an eyebrow at him. "You know what? I'll have at you. I'm angry and need a way to blow off some steam, anyway."

"Are you calling me a cooldown session, Princess?" He snorted. "On second thought, it's good that you're angry. That means you won't hold back." 

While the peaceful school days gave you a sense of normalcy, those days did not last as long as everyone initially thought. Your latest mission saw the rescue of Baron Ochs's missing daughter Monica, who was found by your new mercenary friend in the bandits' hideout. Her reappearance opened a can of worms that needed to be cleaned out. Following the disappearance of the librarian Tomas, trouble and turmoil brewed in all three cornerstones of Fodlan simultaneously, like a masked puppeteer masterfully pulling strings— and everyone else along with it.

And unsettling as it was, the Blue Lions could only press forward into the truth you long sought, about who was truly running the show in Fhirdiad. 

But your enrollment was swiftly withdrawn following the dangerous revelation about the truth of the identity of the librarian Tomas. And though you protested, everything fell on your father's deaf ears. 

"He is right to be concerned about you, mine cousin," Dimitri told you as you shared a meal during what was supposed to be your last day of schooling. "And it would be wise not to anger him. That way, you can still convince him to return when the issue has died out." 

"But I don't want to go home," you said with a little grumble, absentmindedly poking your food with your fork. "Not after we've only reunited…"

"Scared of missing out on all the fun?" Felix sneered at you, to which you responded by stabbing the remaining teppanyaki in his place and scarfing it down whole. "Wh—! Hey!" 

You reluctantly parted ways with Dimitri and Felix and the rest of the Blue Lions House by order of the regent, your father. Ahead of your trek back home to Itha, you made a quick and unexpected detour to the Kingdom to see how he had been doing. 

"Welcome home, Your Highness!" 

You were welcomed by new Royal staff, all of whom took orders from the regent. Among those who received you at the castle town was a lord you were unfamiliar with by name, but you remembered him as one of your father's companions from the New Year's hunt.  

"Have you been well, Your Highness? Allow me to take you to His Grace." 

"Oh, thank you, uh…" 

"Viscount Kleiman at your service, Princess," the older man gave you a quick bow. "You would do well to remember my name and my face, especially in this coming era." 

This coming era?

You tried not to pay too much mind to the viscount's words and simply focused on who you came there for. "Has my father been well?"

"Perhaps you should see for yourself, Your Highness. I'm certain your presence will lift his spirits."

A strange chill danced up your spine as you were led to the former king's bedchambers, where Rufus paced and lounged these past few days. 

"Papa?" You called out to him as the aged wooden doors harshly creaked open, as though they hadn't been for quite some time. 

"Is that you, my little star?" 

Your father looked worn out, and it was evident from the rubbish that littered the room that he accepted no other company apart from the Saintess, Cornelia, who closely stood next to him. 

"Have you been well, papa? Oh, it's been so long…" You said, your voice cracking from both the joy and despair you felt as you stepped into your father's space. He was crowned with an unfamiliar circlet of precious blue steel, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look even more ragged and unhewn. He could only grasp your wrists in place as you lifted your hands to hold his face, your thumbs tenderly running over his cold cheeks. 

"His Highness h—" Cornelia started, only for you to shoot her a look that could have killed if only possible.

"With all due respect, Saintess. I wasn't talking to you." 

"How lovely you've grown, my little star," Rufus managed a small smile. It was his turn to gently hold your face in his freezing hands, which you tried not to notice. "Fret not. We won't be apart for long. You'll return to me once everything has been settled."

"What do you mean, papa? What will you do? What's going to happen?"

He did not answer your questions but only pressed a soft yet cold kiss on your forehead, the kind you were so used to receiving when you were a child. 

When it was just you and him.  

"Return to Itha, my little star. Stay there until I send for you," he stated as he turned away from you. "Go."

"But papa—!" You tried to reach for him, only to be rebuffed by the Saintess in crimson, barring you from approaching your father once more. 

"His Highness needs his rest, sweet princess. But worry not. It won't be too long until you remain here for good. This is your home, after all."

"The Itha Plains is our home, Saintess. You would do well to remember that."

"The Grand Duke has fought tooth and nail for his house's future. Your future, if we are being more specific, Princess."

The same eerie chill swept up your spine once more as you locked stares with the green-eyed mage. Still, you showed no hint of trepidation as you approached her. "I did not wish for him to fight for me. I wish for nothing but to spend time with my father, not the regent. And once Dimitri is crowned king, he and I will return to our home."

Cornelia smiled at you, her eyes void of emotion but her voice was still saccharine and sultry. It was no wonder your father was so enthralled by her. "Of course, Princess. Believe what you will."

The days blurred altogether as you resumed your management of Itha. You expected your father to send for you sometime soon, but what broke your routine was a lone Kingdom soldier allied with the Crown Prince, riding past your castle security with haste. 

"I have an urgent message for Her Highness, the Princess of Itha! His Highness and his counsel have sent for you!"

"What's going on? What happened?" You asked as you rushed past your household staff, not a care in the world with how undone you looked. 

"It's the regent, Your Highness! The Grand Duke seized complete control of the capital and declared war on House Fraldarius! He is calling for the annihilation of Lord Rodrigue and his family! He claims they are controlling His Highness!"

No. 

You felt your blood run cold at the revelation that was sent to you. All the signs yet again point to your father— and his fanatical, maniacal obsession with the throne. With killing Dimitri.   

"This conflict will only end with one of them dead," you said, your lip quivering in terror at the thought. "I… I will ride to Fhirdiad!"

"You will not, Your Grace! His Majesty will send for you once he has put the usurper to rout!" Madam Liadan declared as she barred your way to the stables. "Such is the price of peace—"

"There is no peace and there will be no peace even with one of them dead!" You shouted, swallowing the lump in your throat as you flung her out of your way. "Get out of my way, Madam Liadan. I will plead for my father's life if I have to."

"Y-You forget yourself, Princess! Everything he's done, he did for you! You would disrespect him by begging for his life— for leniency?! From a usurper?!" 

You once dreamed of officially inheriting the Itha Plains from your father. You dreamed of him accepting your choice of a husband. You dreamed of him as a grandfather, carrying your children— dark-haired, with eyes as warm as hazel and sunrise— and you dreamed of caring for him in his old age. You dreamed of a long life for him, far from all the melodrama he was initially born into… and a gentle death befitting the gentle father that he was to you. 

But no matter how good of a father he was to you, the weight of his sins to his family and the Kingdom hung heavy and low in the scale. He would pay the ultimate price for it. 

In your shock upon your arrival to Fhirdiad, in the aftermath of the succession crisis and Dimitri's resolution, you fell to your knees in tears of agony, crying and cursing yourself for arriving far too late— for never being enough for him to disregard the indignities of his youth.

"Hey!—"

The last thing you saw before blacking out entirely was Felix hurriedly reaching out to you. 

Finally, you dreamed of your father holding you in his arms as you made your way back to Itha following your very first visit to the capital, blissfully joyful and unaware of all that has yet to transpire. 

In the days that followed in the aftermath of the succession crisis, it was revealed that the Houses Elidure, Mateus, Kleiman, Rowe, Duval, and many other minor western lords played a part in the assassination of the late king. Dimitri's counsel worked swiftly to ensure your father's part in the ploy was also unveiled and made known to everyone in the Kingdom. You accepted that as the truth now. 

Your interrogation was conducted by Margrave Gautier, who accepted your statement as fact. Even if you had known anything, you would have related it to your cousin as soon as you could.

"The Princess of Itha has made it clear that she had no involvement in the matter and knew nothing about the coup," the older man related to the young king and the rest of his counsel. 

It made sense that you knew nothing of your father's scheme, for your role would come to pass in the future. For the pieces of his plan to fall into place seamlessly, you had to be blameless and unblemished. He kept you as far away as he could so he could present you as his faultless heir. Rufus would deal with the fallout in the years that followed. 

But your father was dead, and you were nothing else but a misplaced pawn. 

"I know," Dimitri stated. "How is she?"

"The princess is of sound mind if that is what you wish to know, Your Highness. I believe she is waiting for a chance to speak to you if you will permit it."

You remained confined under guard in your childhood bedchambers in the capital. This place was once filled with happy, joyful memories of your youth, but now it served as your prison cell. 

More of your father's misdeeds came to light when you last spoke to the Margrave, and though he does not blame you, he also made it clear that your presence would mean contention for Dimitri. For once, you found yourself cursing the very blood that flowed through your veins. You cursed the Crest you were born with that made your father aspire for things beyond his grasp. 

The indignities of your cousin's youth had yet to be repaid, and you swore to him that you would do so in kind for as long as he wished.

When Dimitri finally came to see you, you could only grasp his hands, unable to look him in the eye. "You've known where my heart and my loyalties lie ever since we were children, mine cousin. I swear to the Goddess. To our dead fathers… I no longer care what you wish to do with me, but believe me when I say not even once did I aspire to be Queen."

"I've known from the very beginning," he stated as he held your hands and quelled their shaking. "I believe in you. And I cannot cast you aside, even if you wish. You are the only family I have left… And I do not want for us to become like our fathers…" 

"We will never be like them," you strongly declared through your tears. "Never."

Dimitri and his counsel worked tirelessly to restore order to the capital before eventually extending their reach to the rest of the Kingdom. You assisted with implementing many of the reforms after being proven innocent of the regent's attempts at usurping the throne. 

You were used to the mistrust of the people, so much that you wished your cousin would delegate you tasks that required others to watch you carefully— just so you could prove that you meant him no harm. That your heart was nothing like your father's. 

Your fate, as the elephant in the room, was the topic of discussion in one of their recent councils, where they burned their candles at both ends to come to a resolution. While some of them voted to banish you from the Kingdom, others argued your possible usefulness to the king's cause, including Felix, who attested to your skill with the sword, which you previously pledged to Dimitri's service, whenever he asked for it.

As it stood, you remained a political prisoner granted remarkable leeway— so much so that you were still permitted to eat, train, and spend time with the prince and your friends, much like when you were children. 

"The matter with the princess is rather complicated. We simply cannot allow her to walk away from all of this," Margrave Gautier stated. "We cannot allow her to return to Itha, either, lest she be taken away by the remaining forces of the western lords—"

"—and be used as a symbol. A weapon against His Majesty," Rodrigue remarked.

"You're right. But she is no political prisoner. She is my family," Dimitri stated this time. "And she will be treated as such by everyone else while she is here."

Margrave Gautier turned to the young king. "If I may, Your Majesty. You said you trusted the princess. How can you be so sure that she will not betray you?" 

"Because she spoke the truth. She never wanted to be Queen, even when we were children. The highest thing she ever hoped to be was…"

A ghost of a smile made its way to the young king's face, only for it to disappear following several puzzled looks from his counsel. Felix was equally perplexed by the sight. 

"Unlike her father, she supports my claim to the throne and never once contested me for it. I'm certain that caused some kind of rift between them, but my uncle's desperation and determination to keep her away from the infighting only showed how much he cherished his daughter still…" Dimitri said with a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Since we're on the topic of what should be done with her, I may as well give you the best option. A way to ensure her loyalty to our cause… though I know we do not need such methods. It will require your approval, Rodrigue. But, ah… I suppose it would be more appropriate for the new Duke Fraldarius to have a say in it, since he is also part of this plan."

"What do you mean, boar?" Came Felix's incredulous quip, to which his liege only responded with a small but knowing smile. 

"All she's ever wanted to be is your wife, after all."

For Dimitri, there was no turning back anymore from what had already been done. The Kingdom called for his ascension and he cannot put it off any further, no matter how he tried to avoid it. A mountain of tasks lay at his feet ahead of his coronation and you were there to carve open that path for him, at least that was what you endeavoured to do after everything that transpired. When word reached you that Felix would soon become the next Duke Fraldarius, you pondered where your place would be in all of this. 

The Itha Plains, its surrounding lands, properties and territories have been consolidated under Kingdom rule in the meantime and all of the dealings you and your father previously signed off on have been effectively frozen. The new king will figure out what to do with the Grand Duchy once the more important issues have been resolved. 

While you were initially part of Dedue and Rodrigue's reconciliation campaign to Duscur, Dimitri has made indications that he will need you elsewhere, and that your father's sins are not yours to bear. But until he speaks to you about it, you will continue your work as a basic weapons instructor in the Kingdom, alongside the mysterious mercenary from your academy days, the one who possessed a power so eerily similar to that of "Tomas" and the "Saintess", Cornelia. 

It gave you no pleasure to put the knights in place, especially when they were loyal to your father, the regent. Some would declare their fealty to you, their blade under your command should you want it, but it was evident that they were misguided and led away by the false promises made by an irresponsible king who never was.

You missed Rufus, but it was clear to you that the Kingdom would fare better without him at the helm. And you would want nothing to do with ruling even in the future. 

When the evening came and training sessions came to a close, it was only you and your mercenary friend left in the castle training grounds to round up and conduct an inventory on the weapons used throughout the day.

"For a princess, you're surprisingly diligent," they remarked as they gathered the used swords in place. "Whenever I think of princesses, I'm always reminded of how… delicate they must be." 

"I'm a far cry from delicate, even when Dimitri and I were children, Commander. When Gustave taught me how to wield a sword, I fell in love with it at the first instance. And I suppose it's only fitting even for a girl like me born into the Kingdom, which values strength and our heroic bloodlines over everything else," you replied with a low chuckle as you carefully lined up the spears and lances in their racks. "My Crest made me stronger than the average person, too… So surely there was something I could do to support my cousin, too…" 

"You know, Dimitri told me something before the incident… when I was questioning this… gift I had. I thought you ought to hear it, too. You both have the same kind of strength. He believed his power was given to him so he could protect others. Your cousin has always believed in the innate goodness of a person more than anything. That explains why he chose to trust me despite everything. I know for a fact that he believes in you and greatly trusts you, too," they stated with a firm resolution, a spark of hope in their amethyst eyes. "I'm only able to stand here before you because of Dimitri, who believes my gift can be used for the greater good. Do you think the same way as I do? The only thing left for you to do is to prove that you are worthy of his trust. Of our trust."

"I… I'll prove it. I wield my blade in the service of my king. There is nothing more I could want."

Your conversation was cut short when you heard approaching footsteps followed by your cousin's wide shadow spilling on the ground. "There you are, mine cousin. Gustave said I'd find you here." 

"Well, we're just about done here anyway, so I'll leave you two to it," your mercenary friend said with a smile. Dimitri gently patted their shoulder as they passed by him. "I'm gonna help myself to some dinner now!"

"Oh, thanks for the help, Commander!" You managed to holler at them as they disappeared into the castle. 

"I was hoping we could share a meal ourselves, mine cousin," the young king started as he offered his elbow to you. "You know, we never really got around to talking about your time in Fraldarius lands."

"That week I spent there was one of the most unforgettable moments in my life," you chuckled as you linked your arm in his. "Felix… still smiled a lot back then."

"That is true. I suppose we will see less and less of that once is officially named the new Duke Fraldarius," Dimitri stated as he led you through the castle halls, specifically through the Hall of Kings, where portraits of the members of the Royal Family hung. You paused between the portraits of your father and your uncle, the late king, the brothers in their similar signature Blaiddyd azure regalia, yet still different sides of the same shining coin. "My counsel and I have come to a decision regarding your fate. There were some who wished to banish you from the Kingdom, but I would not have that. I could not agree to that… out of my great love for you and my respect to my uncle, who was nothing but a good father to you, I believe. You are my only family left in this world." 

"And you are mine," you solemnly nodded at him.

"I know the Itha Plains is your birthright, but we have decided against granting it to you. There are still some who fear the contention you pose and think you will not be so different from your father. There are still some who will not think twice to herald you as the rightful heir to the throne."

"Perish the thought," you said, your brows furrowed as you shook your head in dismissal of the notion. 

"I wish to keep you close, for I know that I can still trust you with my life, but in order for that to happen, you will have to renounce your royal title."

It was an unexpectedly lenient consequence, but not entirely surprising to you. You had no right to be begging for anything after everything that has happened, and to prove your worth and compliance to the Kingdom's cause, you agreed. "That is something I can do. Perhaps something I deserve, too."

"And marry Felix."

???

You looked up at Dimitri with eyes as wide as saucers. He did not just say that, did he? "Wh— Wait, what did you say?!"

"You will marry Felix and become his wife as your way of ensuring your loyalty to the Kingdom's cause."

"I— I would have renounced my title either way, Dimitri!" You attempted to disentangle yourself from him, only for him to hold you hostage with his grip. "A-And what did Felix have to say about this?! He must be seething in anger at having such an important thing be decided for him—"

Your bickering drew yet another set of footsteps this time, followed by the familiar, cynical voice of your childhood friend, who just happened to be your topic of discussion. 

"You ought to stop putting words in other people's mouths, Princess," Felix stated as he made his approach. "Are you done talking with her, boar?"

"Since he's here, you may as well ask him yourself," your cousin said with a smile as he placed your hand in the other young man's open palm. "I suppose I'll have dinner with our mercenary friend while you're at it."

"D-Dimitri! W—" You groaned to yourself as you watched the young king's figure walk away from you, as though he successfully led you into a harmless trap. 

"What's this I heard about you wanting to marry me ever since we were children?" 

Felix was never one to mince words, so you weren't at all surprised that he didn't evade the issue. 

It was embarrassing to hear him talk about it upfront, though.

"Th-That's—! Th-That was supposed to be a secret between me and Dimitri!" You squeaked at him. "I-I didn't expect him to actually find it usef—"

He squeezed your hand, reminding you of where you were and the decisions that had to be made. "And you'd rather it remain a secret than find out what I think about it?"

"I…"

"Hmph. Will marriage to me be such a chore for you?" He scoffed as he slowly released you, only for you to grasp his sleeve.

"N-No! I— It's true that I've always wanted to marry you, Felix! But I… I would never want for you to marry me out of obligation! Doesn't it sound like a punishment to you? I-I'm practically a traitor's daughter to everyone else, more or less… B-But this—! This… is such an important matter! This is marriage! I-If we agree to this, you'll be spending the rest of your life with me, of all people…! A-And—"

Oh, you were rambling at this point, your words strung together and incoherent as you attempted to explain your side to no avail. It was only when Felix held your hands in his once more that your mind was silenced from the thoughts that crowded it. 

"Princess," he said, his low and steady voice slicing through the noise of your thoughts. "I'm not marrying you out of obligation. This is not a punishment and you are not defined by your father's sins. Only fools refuse to accept the fact of your innocence. I agreed to that decision because I want to marry you."

"I… I—"

"And we're only having this difficult conversation because the boar beat me to it," he grumbled this time, his embarrassment evident by the blush that crept up his neck to the tips of his ears. "S-So what's it gonna be, princess?! Are you going to marry me or what?!" 

"Y-You want to m-marry me?! S-Since when?!"

"Wh— Why does it even matter?! Just say yes so we can be done with this!" 

"O-Of course I'll marry you, Felix! Th-This is like a dream come true! B-B—"

"I—"

"I-I've liked you f-from the start!" You sputtered at him, your hands burning in embarrassment as you squeezed him right back. "A-At first you were the boy with the pretty black hair, b-but when I started training with the sword and we started training together, I— I've been thinking of so many ways to grab your attention!"

You only realised now that you didn't have to try so hard.  

It is now 1182. Two years have passed since Dimitri's ascension as the King of Faerghus. As part of his reforms to the Kingdom, he established his private army spearheaded by none other than the not-so-mysterious mercenary from your academy days, who proved to be a reliable and trustworthy person. They grew to be a well-respected commander by both the nobles and the commoners who banded under the banner of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.

As agreed upon by the king's counsel, Rodrigue stepped down from his position as Duke Fraldarius and passed his title to his named heir, Felix. After renouncing your royal title, the two of you were wed in a simple yet elegant celebration in Fraldarius lands, the snowscape becoming the perfect backdrop of your union. 

The promise was sealed with a pretty ring he inherited from his mother. For all his austerity, Felix was a good husband and he was exceptionally kind to you, even though it was mostly him growing and maturing into his role— both as the Duke Fraldarius and as your spouse. 

For your efforts in aiding Dimitri in his reforms, you were officially appointed a Kingdom General. The title couldn't come any sooner, with Adrestia's declaration of war against the Central Church. That same church is now knocking at the Kingdom's doorstep and to deny it assistance would be denying Dimitri's ascent to the throne. As a member of the Kingdom vanguard, you understood that the declaration wasn't just a mere threat, but a promise that the Empire would do whatever it could to accomplish what it set out to do.

But the deeper into Imperial territory you step into, the looser the lid on the can of worms becomes— that can pertaining to the cloud of mysteries left in the wake of the Tragedy of Duscur. The string of deceit will unravel by the King's hand, and many of your allies who lost someone dear to them in that incident will receive the closure they deserve. 

You don't speak much about it, but Rufus sometimes visits you in your dreams, sometimes in unpleasant ways that rock you awake. When Dimitri was held hostage in Fhirdiad after being captured by the witch Cornelia, you hardly had a wink of sleep because of the image of your father's headless corpse standing at the foot of your bed. 

The exhaustion you felt deep in your bones was forgotten in the rage that nearly consumed you in the battle to liberate Fhirdiad. You backed your husband and the commander as they made their way into the castle before eventually safeguarding Rodrigue, who was tired but thankful. In a moment of respite, he spoke of how their captors brought them to heel by means of manipulating the king's heart for his people. Dimitri, who was once consumed by the throes of vengeance for the dead, was so concerned about the living and breathing that he willingly surrendered Areadbhar in exchange for a fragile peace in the city. 

There is no peace, you told yourself as you angrily charged at the enemy soldiers that attempted to attack your father-in-law. No peace for me, either.

Cornelia had nothing but a haughty look of derision as you brought her to heel. "Well, if it isn't the Princess of Itha. Ah, but you're no longer that person, are you? To see you reduced to a wife of a mere lord. Your father must be turning in his grave."

"Silence, witch. You're fortunate Dimitri still requires answers from you. I would have struck you down without a second thought if I could," you stated, pressing the pointed end of your silver sword to her throat. "Don't speak of my father. Don't speak as though you knew him. You only corrupted him. And for all it's worth, you were the one who killed him."

That night, you dreamed of your father's decapitated corpse once again, only to find him holding your head in his hands this time.

Ahead of the decisive skirmish against the Western Coalition, Dimitri beseeched you to step away from the fighting for only this instance. He said he couldn't risk you being taken hostage by the western lords and be heralded as a symbol— be used as a weapon against him. Felix agreed with him, surprisingly, but only because your husband noticed your severe lack of sleep.

"Felix is right, mine cousin. We can't have you collapsing on the battlefield because you didn't get enough rest," Dimitri said as you spoke ahead of your war council. "But more importantly, I know the western lords aren't above using atrocious tactics to upend the battle, even more so if they find out that you will be fighting in it."

"For once, I agree with His Majesty," your husband remarked. "Royal title or no, it doesn't change the fact that you are a princess of Faerghus and the daughter of the dead Grand Duke who started this all." 

"But don't you see? All the more I should be in this battle. To teach those western lords the error of their ways. To show them once and for all that they will gain nothing from putting me on a pedestal."

Your declaration would have been perfect if you weren't nearly captured in the ensuing battle. It was a misstep you attributed to your exhaustion, your sound decision-making crippled by the fatigue that enveloped your head. 

Your head. In your dead father's hands. 

No. 

When word reached Felix that you were overwhelmed by the opposing forces, he raced through the battlefield in a fit of rage and fury and a flash of aquamarine, nearly razing the enemies to the ground in lightning and ashes. 

"Get your hands off my wife!"

You were awakened by the golden glow of the setting sun that peeked through the opening of your lodging. As you moved slowly, you were surprised to find yourself encased in an embrace as your husband slept soundly and calmly on your warmed bed. You were out of your battle regalia and in a comfortable sleeping tunic. There were clear signs of your injuries having been cleaned recently and you couldn't help but think of how much of a burden you were to your allies after having made that thoughtless declaration of strength, too. 

Felix mumbled in his sleep, his brows furrowed as he buried his face further into your chest. As you settled into his arms, you noticed the crimson ribbon holding his ponytail slightly coming loose, so you decided to untie it, allowing his silky hair to fall behind him. You caught a lock of his hair and gently toyed with it, curling it around your finger until it eventually came loose. 

"Are we… actually a love match?" You quietly mused to yourself. You didn't mind not getting an answer. You cherished these quiet, tender moments where he was nothing but a husband to you. Not Duke Fraldarius. Not a general of this army. Just Felix. Your Felix.

"You're not one for words, I know that much. You've saved me countless times. I don't even know what to say…" You started, your voice hushed to a whisper. He smelt of your favourite tea blend, too. "And for a man who values strength above all else, I still can't help but wonder what it was you liked about me."

"Mm…" You felt his low grumble reverberate in your chest. 

The colour of the sunset was lovely, casting a warm glow over your entangled figures, illuminating the space until it prompted Felix to wake. 

"How're you feeling?" Came his gentle inquiry. 

"I'm well, thanks…"

"That's good to know," he started, slowly releasing you and sitting up. "Because you're going to get an earful from me! This recklessness of yours really runs in the blood, huh? You and your beastly cousin are cut from the same tough cloth!"

Here comes his tirade, you thought to yourself with a small sigh. But it's only right, I suppose… 

"I'm sorry, Felix," you said apologetically, your hands gently reaching for his own. "I have no excuse for being caught unaware back then."

"What is going on with you, anyway? You haven't been eating. Your bladework has been sloppy," he sharply replied. "And you've been having trouble sleeping?"

You didn't want to conjure it in your head— the image that's been keeping you awake. 

"Hey," he called out to you as your mind wandered, your lashes lowered to your quivering hands. "Tell me what's going on."

"I…" You started, eventually prompted to continue by the way your husband squeezed your hands reassuringly. "I see him in my dreams, Felix. My father. I see his headless corpse holding my severed head in his hands. Maybe I am as guilty as he is."

"You're not."  

"Then why? Why does he visit my dreams in that form?!" You sobbed at him, warm tears filling the corners of your eyes. "I…"

"That's not him," he stated. "Those are just your regrets. You regret not being enough. Not being able to save him. So much that you wish you were dead as well."

Instead of lashing out at his realisation, Felix simply encased you in yet another warm embrace. "The truth hurts but it is the truth, regardless. There was no saving your old man after how far he'd gone. And you have to understand that his sins don't define you. How many times must you hear it from me and your cousin?"

You blinked away your tears and gently coiled your arms around your husband's neck. "Does he ever visit you in your dreams, too? Your big brother, I mean…"

"I can't count the times he did," he replied with a low hum. "Perhaps not as grotesque as your father's appearances, but it was still jarring all the same to me."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence before Felix posed another question to you. "Do you remember the jewelled dagger I gave you on your fifth birthday?" 

"I do. It is one of my most prized possessions."

"It was Glenn who suggested I give you a dagger. I thought it was strange at first because we hardly knew each other back then… But he told me, regardless of whether or not we knew each other, I should wish for you to carve open a path for yourself. And that's exactly what you did."

"Did I really?…"

"You carved open a path for yourself the moment you chose to follow Dimitri rather than fight him like everyone else around you expected you to do."

"Oh, yes. I think I did that," you said with a soft laugh. "I never wanted to be Queen, anyway. I wanted to be the Grand Duke Itha and your wife, though I knew I could only be one of those."

"Hmph. Well, I'm sorry if the Fraldarius Dukedom is all I can offer, Princess," Felix replied with a teasing scoff. He gently released you from his embrace and reached for a carefully wrapped parcel on the floor. "Speaking of which, I have something for you. My mother had it delivered to us."

"What could this be?" You wondered aloud as your fingers nimbly tore through the thick parchment. "Oh!"  

You couldn't take your eyes off the finely made mantle the moment you unwrapped it. 

Aquamarine, with cream white fur lining the collar and hem to protect your neck from the elements. You ran your gloved fingers over the Crest of Fraldarius that was embroidered on the cape with sturdy yet delicate-looking silver thread. 

"Beautiful…" You murmured in tears yet again. 

"I know the Itha Plains is your home, but it's likely that it will go to one of His Majesty's children in the future," Felix stated as he unfurled the cape to its full length before draping it over your shoulders and fastening the clasp on your chest. "This is to remind you that you still have a home. With me."

It was heavy— both the weight of the mantle and the duty tethered to its creation. You would never be the Grand Duke of Itha, but you were the Lady of House Fraldarius and wife of the Shield of Faerghus. 

But first and foremost, you were Felix's wife. A dream made manifest the moment you whispered it in your cousin's ear long ago.

You've faced the shadows of your past and supported each other through the most pitch black of moments. Your love, once a quiet promise made in the innocence of your youth, has blossomed into something profound and enduring. 

That night, you dreamed of your father in your youth, nary a trace of all his exhaustion, but only a calm smile on his face as he finally bade you farewell, your figure cloaked in Fraldarius aquamarine this time, your husband's gloved hand in yours as you marched ever onward, racing against the setting sun. 

୨୧ The images used here are from the lovely webtoon All Colors of Snow by Ah Ai Maria. 💛