#every lie she speaks becomes the truth

[clonerightsagenda]

Faulkner: I was going to hallow the town but sacrifices don't mean anything if you don't know how big a sacrifice it is so I started counting the lights thinking maybe four people to a light, but what about the people who've already gone to sleep, and I stalled myself out with the enormity of the mass murder I was about to commit.

Val: There's no town here :)

[artsy-hobbitses]

In truth there is no better place to be Than falling out of darkness still to see Without a premonition Could you tell me where we stand? I'd hate to lose this light Before we land And when I feel like I can feel once again Let me stay a while Soak it in a while If we can hold on we can fix what is wrong Buy a little time For this head of mine Haven for us

One of the things that I adore about Ties That Bind was the journey that Preston 'Prowl' Wan took to become a fully-fledged character, where he initially began as simply a mirror of IDW Prowl. And to honour that development, the man whose compassion is no less real for being learned rather than innate, who sees numbers and the faces behind them with the same crackshot clarity, and who believes not in gods or fate or a higher calling but in people, and in you Jazz, has earned a brand new character sheet! His old sheet can be found here And below, you'll finally find his full story!

Preston Wan Peirong remembers little of his childhood, which is perhaps for the best in some aspects; Hard to tell the truth from a lie in a memory when one doesn’t know how many times they have been ‘rewritten’.

However, what he can tell you with unnerving clarity was the coldness of it all. The sterility. The unquestionable sense of order and obedience to the system he was told kept the world from devolving into chaos after it narrowly avoided total annihilation. 

As a cold construct, Preston was a part of a batch commissioned specifically for the law enforcement division and grew up in the youth wing of China’s Public Security Academy in Beijing. Here, he was trained to become a police officer from the day he was old enough to respond when the numbers under the barcode stamped on his neck were called out: P7031 Names weren’t given; Names had to be earned. 

Every aspect of his life and that of those in his batch was strictly regimented down to the last minute; Food calculated down to the last calorie for maximum performance with minimum waste to funding. Lesson room, shooting range and dorm temperatures kept frigid to ‘sharpen the mind’. The text which met his gaze, the lessons which rang in his ears, the words that came out of his mouth when he was permitted to speak.

He learned early on what his purpose was in the world, and had it drilled into him how integral purpose was to keeping the system running; Everyone had a purpose, everything had its place, and as long as the people understood both, order would be maintained, and order had to be maintained to keep the peace for the good of the many. Sometimes, yes, that meant oiling the gears. Other times, it was hammering down stray nails.

That purpose drove him, and by seven, indoctrinated him so thoroughly that he didn’t question the stinging in his knees when he was ordered to kneel on rice grains during his lesson drills, or his own hunger when ordered to go without meals until he’d learned to disassemble and reassemble his weapon at a speed which put officer cadets to shame. 

At eight however, the sterile and orderly world he knew within the academy walls began to crack; Sitting on the top of his batch, it was decided by the academy trainers that he needed more one-on-one tutelage after class hours. It was decided that he needed a handler. 

Tan Yumei was a former soldier; a renown crackshot with steel in her eyes and in her bones from years in service to the state; The kind that made her sit up straighter when the offer was made for her to become a glorified babysitter—in her words—to what had to be the world’s best behaved boy. 

Asset, the interviewer would correct her. Not a boy; an asset. Our asset. 

The promise of a job in the academy which would come with pay and medical benefits which far eclipsed her government pension was too tantalizing to pass up, and she took on the child known as P7031 under her wing. 

She was to train him in field work and help with his assimilation into society; the silo of the academy gave him the skills necessary, but could only do so much to help him function as part of the system. 

As often as she was told to treat him as an asset, a tool rather than a child, that proved easier said than done as Yumei found herself warming up to all four-foot-six of stoic, stony-faced, serious-as-a-heart attack P7031. 

It started small and innocuous; ice cream as a treat for a job well done, something completely novel to the child. No sense using the stick exclusively when the carrot was there as long as results were achieved, she would assure the staff.

This hid her growing disturbance with the way P7031 was raised, more so as he began to light up when when she greeted him every morning, began to smile as she praised him for things that weren’t tied to the purpose given to him by the academy, began to question the world around him in ways he had never been given the chance to do before with the kind of childish wonderment that dissipated into thin air when it came time to return to the academy. 

And P7031 began to feel his worldview shift as well, as she was the first person to treat him like the child that he was, whether it be reading with him young adult novels not approved by the academy board or snapping the very first pictures of himself he was allowed to keep (a gift to remind him that he existed beyond the academy walls). Attachments were an alien concept to him; he understood that his purpose meant connections beyond duty—whether it be family or friends, neither of which he had prior to Yumei— were wasteful, unnecessary, dangerous. But for the first time in his nine years of living, he wanted for something more than purpose. He wanted a life with his handler, his mother, as the card he presented to her on a second Sunday in May proclaimed with words easier written than spoken.

And as the time grew near for her handler contract with the academy to end, it was a sentiment Yumei echoed. 

When he was ten years old, she came for him after hours; silent, stealthy and wreathed in shadow, promising him a life away from the academy, from a purpose he never asked for. 

And at ten years old, time froze for him. 

P7031 didn’t remember anything of that night; The escape to the docks. The lullaby hummed to keep him calm. The struggle and the thunderclap that spattered his coat in blood that wasn’t his, and the wretched, barely human sound that tore from his throat. 

He didn’t remember being dragged back to the academy beaten within an inch of his life screaming blue murder. 

Didn’t remember the golden eyes crinkled at the edges with amusement as he begged for them to stop, because he knew Uncle Gold-Eyes, the one they called Trepan, to be a doctor who dealt with ‘defective’ assets; something he had once prided himself in never being. He didn’t care that he was defective; they had already taken the only person worth anything in his life away from him physically, and they were prepared to take what remained of her in his mind to ‘fix’ him. 

His pleas fell on deaf ears, and what he did remember, after all this, is simply his dorm room, Spartan as ever. 

Life went on, with only whispers of the unexplained cancellation of the handler initiative, which he’d never heard of, as a ripple in the monotony of his classes, shooting range practice and on-field assignments.

At eighteen, he graduated from the academy and finally earned the right to a name, and P7031 became Officer Wan Peirong, assigned to the Chengdu Security Bureau where he became one of its rising stars. 

His professionalism, loyalty and sense of duty were unmatched, even among his batch, and he unquestioningly served the system that kept the nation running. Criminals had no place in the system, but as he was told by his superiors, neither did dissidents who threatened order and had to be re-educated, taught the error of their ways to become productive citizens the same way he had been molded into a model worker in the academy. 

In this period, blips in his memories became more frequent, though his attending physician dismissed his concerns as it didn’t impact his work. Work which he began to question one day when his task entailed breaking up a miners’ protest downtown. As he led one activist away, an elderly woman kowtowed at his feet, begging for him to show mercy to her son, and something in her voice made him loosen his grip with the beginnings of doubt.

Miners were not an outlying group; they were a sizable section of the populace, and they weren’t the only group voicing their grievances. He was tasked with helping keep the peace; something he was told repeatedly that the many desired over the few who bucked against the order. But who was he serving when those who bucked against the order he was told should not be challenged became the many? 

It was a question Peirong struggled with as the days went by and dissent grew louder among the working class, which authorities were ordered to respond to with mounting force even for the pettiest infractions.

He began to seek out banned texts, including translated copies of ‘Towards Peace’, supposedly penned by a Cold Construct just like him from the west, to gain clarity on the situation; He reasoned that ne had to study all angles before making a move after all, and the more he read, the more shaky his faith grew in an institution which was far from the paragon he had been promised in the academy. 

He wasn’t a fool however; he knew how the system worked inside and out, and began searching for loopholes to secretly help out people he believed were being failed by the system, as well as utilising malicious compliance to cover his tracks in a real-time game of chess with his superiors.

It all came to a boiling point one day, as he was assigned to a squad escorting a group of political prisoners to a new facility. 

Among them was someone Peirong recognised as one Brandon Shen Bailin; a charismatic and  defiant radio deejay-reporter from Hong Kong who recently came out as a Cold Construct and was nicknamed the ‘Blaster’ for the exposes he penned about the government. 

Brandon had gone missing weeks ago on assignment in Xinjiang; no amount of bandages and no large a hoodie could hide the toll that time had taken on the man, who was now emaciated and missing all of his fingers.

Before Peirong could fully process what he was seeing, the reporter was separated from the rest of prisoners and forced to kneel, as a gun was placed in Peirong’s hands by the Second-Level Inspector and he was told to dispose of this enemy of the state.

What was unspoken but clearly understood between both of them, as Peirong could deduce from the officers closing in on him, was that this was a test of loyalty as his wavering faith in the system was becoming clear to the bureau’s cabal. 

The choice was made in a split second; he refused his commanding superior’s orders, shot the man square between the eyes before they could draw their weapon and then kneecaped the rest of the officers before the dust settled.

Hauling Brandon into the shotgun seat of the prisoner transport truck and driving off, he helped the reporter liaise with a contact that directed them to a rendezvous point at the nearby contested China-Arunachal Pradesh border to fight extradition orders. 

With authorities not far behind, Peirong pressed on and covered for them as they raced towards the border, following in Brandon’s lead. He had spoken with them throughout the journey; stilted and monotonous as ever on his end as he struggled to connect with them, but two things were clear, as they made that run for freedom:

The first was that the system was untenable if it would deem parents, poets, artists and blue collar workers–the many, the unarmed—as enemies of the state.  The second, was that while they ran for their lives, he wasn’t sure whether he’d ever truly lived at all. 

This was a sentiment that Peiriong echoed, after he was overpowered by men in the same uniform he wore, to the constable pressing the nozzle of a gun to his forehead; That they were free to take his life, a life where the only moment he’d felt even barely alive was he had defied an order for the first time. 

The argument that occurred next between two commanding officers who debated his fate was a surprise, though not so much as the revelation that this wasn’t the ‘first time’ he had broken protocol, and that he had apparently broken protocol one too many times that they were now weighing his use against the cost needed for his ‘upkeep’. 

In a day of firsts, it was also the first time Peirong had allowed his emotions to overwhelm him, as his increasingly frantic demands to know what they did to him before this—suddenly the blips in his memories made sense—was met with a pistol whip to the temple, and booming sound which made him believe for a fraction of a second that the gunman had kept true to the threat to kill him. 

Except he still breathed, and despite the ringing in his ears, he dazedly managed to push himself up to see the officers scattered and stunned while a new man stood in their midst; armored, backlit against the sun, and smiling.

The words were muffled, but he could read the man’s lips clearly; “Focus on me.” 

It was the singular thread of clarity he needed to finally accept the hand outstretched to him as both of them made a run for the waiting aircraft that would, for better or worse, take him away from his purpose, from the only life he knew. 

The man, who introduced himself as Jace Zayden codenamed Jazz, was a friend of Brandon who had refused to leave without the lone cop who had risked everything to help them.

And where Peirong had feared losing his purpose, his reason for existing with the single step he took beyond China’s borders, he found that he had instead traded it in for another the moment Jace invited him to team leader Omar ‘Orion Pax’ Parvez’s table to discuss strategy; something this new team desperately needed. 

He chose a new name, Preston, to mark his departure from his old life, and focused on his new purpose as framed by the man who saw worth in his life when those he’d once pledged it to did not: Peace through compassion, even if learned, over oppression. 

And between understanding what it meant to live as a man rather than a government asset, and forging connections beyond what duty once dictated for him, maybe, just maybe he could one day piece together the scattered fragments of his past. 

[gor3-hound]

GIVE ME LOVE // NAOYA ZENIN

ft. brother!naoya x sister!reader

a/n: art by @/sakurai_itachi on twitter/x !! another commission for my fave @nexysworld ♡ more naoya... i feel like i'm single handedly populating the naoya x reader tag atp 😭😭😭 as always, feedback and reblogs super appreciated !!

cw: 18+ content, brother/sister incest, breeding, misogyny, kinda dub-con but very barely, spit, kissing, p in v, creampie, biting, tinyyyy amount of blood, naoya has feelings that he doesn't know how to handle, cockwarming

word count: 1.9k words

Growing up in the Zen'in clan taught you one important lesson - women would always be seen as inferior to men. It did not matter how hard you worked to prove yourself to the Elders in the clan. You were a woman, and that was crime enough.

More than anyone, Naoya had every right to resent you. Your mere existence was an inconvenience to him, but more than that, your birth dishonoured him. He already had to fight harder than your brothers to climb to the top and become the head of the clan, but sharing a womb with a woman was unforgivable. He was constantly ridiculed for having a female twin, and in turn, you were treated as a stain on the Zen'in name for bringing shame to a Zen'in heir.

Despite everything, Naoya could not bring himself to hate you. You were nothing but a woman, a thing. But he could not see his own twin as such. You were close when the two of you were younger, but as the years went on, you grew more and more distant. Now, with both of you past the age of adulthood and his claim to the clan stronger than before, you've been completely avoiding him.

If anyone asked why he was so obsessed with your absence, he would lie and say that his ego would not allow a mere woman to disrespect him so heavily by thinking she could be the one to ignore him, but the truth of the matter was that he missed you. Dearly. The thought alone had him burning red with embarrassment. He was meant to be better than this, and yet he was letting his emotions get the better of him over a stupid girl.

He strolls to your room late at night when he's sure he won't be caught. He doesn't want to explain to any of the assholes in his clan that he was about to grovel to his sister because he missed her company. He'd never recover. In fact, Naoya would rather die on the spot than be caught being so soft around you.

Naoya takes a deep breath before he pushes open the door to your room, eyes falling on your form sitting at the edge of your bed, bent over a book. He runs a hand through his hair before rapping his knuckles against the open doorway to get your attention.

“Hey.” He murmurs, shifting awkwardly between his feet, clearing his throat when you look up at him. “I piss you off or something? No need to be a bitch about it. Can't do anything if you don't tell me.”

He inwardly cringes at his words. He doesn't know how to do this, but he was willing to apologise if he upset you. He shuts his eyes for a moment sighing before speaking up again. “You've been avoidin’ me. Don't let what the old bastard said at dinner the other night get to you. I know you're a woman, but you're still a Zen'in. No need to be so sensitive.”

“I haven't been avoiding you.” You say in response, brows knitting together. Both of you know it's a lie - you'd always been an awful liar. Naoya scoffs, raising a brow at you. “And it had nothing to do with father. I've gotten used to him over the course of over two decades being his daughter.”

“You are avoiding me.” He huffs, stepping into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. “Don't bullshit me. You're a fuckin’ awful liar.”

Your jaw tenses for a moment as you close your book, setting it on the bedside table. Your eyes flick up, meeting him as he sits at the head of your bed, leaning back against the pillows.

“Father has not bothered me.” You repeat, running a hand over your face. “But our eldest brother has spoken of marrying the girl he's seeing. You spend too much time with me. We aren't kids anymore. My presence isn't helping your reputation. If we were seen less together, you could have more luck producing and heir to solidify your claim to-”

He should hate you, really. You'd ruined his chances at the life he wanted - the life he deserved a chance at by birth. He wasn't used to this tightness in his chest. Why was he so upset by you acting as if you were the reason he was seen as lesser by the clan if it was the truth?

“Are you fuckin' kiddin’ me?” Naoya hisses, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “We both know my claim was practically non-existent the moment your gender was revealed at birth. Not spendin’ time together isn't gonna do shit.”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes dropping to flicker over your body in a way that makes you tense. You can feel his gaze burning through you, a knot twisting your stomach. His expression darkens as he meets your eyes once more - he's made up his mind.

“You can fix this, y'know.” He murmurs, shifting closer to you in the bed. He chuckles as you back up, grin spreading across his face when you're pressed back against the headboard with nowhere to go. Naoya let's his head dip forward, nosing at the crook of your neck.

“So worried about my reputation. It isn't your place as a woman to worry about me.” He growls against your neck, continuing the trail of heated kisses along your skin, tongue darting out to taste you. He bites down before pulling back to meet your eyes. “If father needs an heir to legitimise me, we'll give him one.”

“Naoya, we can't. You're my brother-”

He cuts you off with a laugh, running his tongue along his teeth before he continues sucking marks along the length of your throat. “And? Our cousin did it, and he's on a vacation in Venice with his sister. As long as it's not a servant girl, our dear father doesn't give a shit.”

“You're nothing.” He hisses against your skin. To him, it isn't an insult. It's a mere fact. His breath is hot against the skin of your neck as he pulls back just enough to gaze at your body, hands moving to gently pull open your robes. “I can make you something. Give you some power in the clan. Just need you to go along with this, yeah?”

He kisses you to silence any protests that might bubble up, pushing the fabric away from your body as he works on undressing himself. He kisses you like he wants to possess you, teeth pulling at your lower lip, hands grasping your waist tight enough to bruise as soon as they're free. Naoya slips his tongue into your mouth with a groan, tasting you, claiming you. 

You break the kiss when you feel his fingers hook themselves in the waistband of your panties, eyes shooting open. “Naoya, wait-” 

“Shut up.” He hisses, but there's no real bite behind his words. He lines himself up with your entrance, chest rising and falling more rapidly than usual as he struggles to calm his breathing. “This is your duty. You ruined me. You can… you can fix this. You said you wished to help me solidify my claim, yeah? That's why you're avoidin’ me? This is how you can make up for all the years of ridicule I was subjected to.”

He presses forward slightly, just enough that you can feel the pressure of his cock trying to break through the tight ring of muscle. You take a deep breath, waiting for movement that doesn't come. He's just staring at you - waiting for some kind of agreement, you realise. With a shaky breath, you push back against him, nails digging into his arms as he presses forward, slowly sinking into you until he's buried to the hilt.

Naoya knows you're a virgin - not only because you're his sister, and he knows you enough to know you wouldn't destroy your honour before marriage - but also because of how fucking tight you're squeezing around him. He's warring with his body, trying to bring himself to go slow, to ease you into it.

But he's selfish. Even when it comes to you. He can't stop himself. He fucks into you roughly, shushing you gently as you make soft, pained noises. He grunts words of praise under his breath - so tight, so good for me, doing so well. Anything he can think of to soothe you.

“Gonna stuff you so full… gonna have you dripping me for weeks.” He groans, bracing himself with his arms either side of your head, holding his weight up as he fucks into you harshly, each thrust making the bed frame creak. The sight of your lips parted makes him feel a little dizzy, the pleasured little gasps spilling from them making his cock twitch. Drool pools on his tongue as he leans over you, and he opens his mouth to let the spit trickle onto your own before he leans down to press his lips against yours. The movement of his hips grows sloppy as he licks into your mouth, tongue exploring you forcefully, like he's attempting to claim every inch of you.

He bites your lip when he pulls back, drawing blood. His gaze is hooded with lust as he fucks into you, tongue darting out to lick the blood clean off your lip. He grins as he straightens back up, his hands grasping your hips as he begins to fuck into you with slow, deep thrusts, grunting as your cunt clings to him every time he starts to pull back.

“Milkin’ me dry, huh? Clenchin’ around your own brother's cock, don't even want me to pull out…” He punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, pulling you back against him. “Gonna cum… gonna fuckin’ cum, shit. Cum first, baby. Wanna feel that cunt grippin’ me before I fill you up.”

It doesn't take much more than that to have you seize up, body tensing as your release rushes over you in waves. He fucks you through it, drawing out your pleasure until he stills inside of you, choking out a moan as he shoots his load deep inside of you. He stays there for a moment, just taking in the feeling of you wrapped around him.

His gaze flutters down to you, and he collapses on top of you with a sigh before flipping the both of you over so you're lying on top of him without pulling out. His arms snake around your waist, your head resting against him.

“Didn't take you for a cuddler.” You tease after a moment, practically going up.

“Shut up. Fuckin’ brat.” He huffs, a hand coming up to the back of your head to press your face into his neck. “S'not cuddlin’. I'm making sure it takes. Gotta keep you plugged, yeah?”

You both know that's not the whole truth, but you say nothing as you settle against him, shutting your eyes as you relax in his arms. You'd deal with whatever this leads to in the morning, but for now, you were content to fall asleep with your brother.

[nebulaafterdark]

Promise Me

Summary: Aegon is slowly dying of a heart condition, his final wish is for his childhood companion to find true love. Based off this & this request.

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader

Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader

Aegon’s held a fascination for Y/N since he was a boy. Two sides of the same coin, the heir to the Iron Throne, the girl who would eventually ‘steal’ his birthright, by all accounts of his mother.

Mayhaps Alicent would have pushed harder for a marriage between them, had it not been for Aegon’s condition. He knew as well as any that he would not live to be an old man. He will die young, alone in his bed, with no one to mourn him, if he has any say in the matter.

When King Viserys calls for Rhaenyra, Daemon and their children to return from Dragonstone, Aegon is smitten at the sight of his childhood companion. Now a woman grown.

To his surprise, she and Aemond become fast friends. Then again, there is something to be said for their shared snippy demeanors; forever weighed down by the crown and their places beneath it. Attempting to prove themselves worthy at any cost, studying the histories and learning to speak fluently with two tongues.

Aegon cares for none of it. He is dying. Therefore he is not above following Y/N around like a lovesick hound, licking at her heels for the smallest bit of affection.

The princess does not appreciate this behavior at first, as she is busy with her duties. “What is it you want?” She scoffs.

“To be near you.” Aegon confesses, “nothing more.”

Y/N melts, her eyes softening to an extent, Aegon fears she might cry. “Be near me then.”

So he is, day and night. However inappropriate, they do not lie together, though they share a bed and all their secrets. They do not kiss or embrace, they simply exist, side by side for several moons.

“I want to be near you, always.” Y/N tells him, on the day he begins to withdraw.

“You cannot.” Aegon replies, gently. “You must prepare yourself to take a husband.”

“I should like you for a husband.”

Aegon sighs, breaking both their hearts as he whispers, “you are my friend. Mayhaps Aemond-”

The sting of Aegon’s rejection sends her from his rooms in tears, past the prying eyes of Queen Alicent.

“What have you done?” His mother wonders.

“She wished for my hand.”

“Did you not wish for hers?” Alicent shakes her head. Y/N is all Aegon wants.

“I will not condemn her to love a ghost.” Aegon explains, “she will go to Aemond, he will comfort her. He will be there for her, they might grow old together. He will help her lead. I cannot.”

“Oh, Aegon.” Alicent takes her eldest son into her arms. “If you’d only been honest with her. She would’ve wed you still.”

“I care for her happiness over my own.” He well and truly loves her.

————————————————————————

Y/N grows closer to Aemond in those weeks following Aegon’s rejection. Enough so that Aemond asks for her hand. On the day they wed, Y/N learns the horrible truth of Aegon’s condition. He has only hours left to live and he’s robbed her of so much time with him.

She makes for his chambers with her new husband in tow, wedding gown still adorning her.“You lied to me,” she wails, clutching at Aemond as though she wants to bring him closer and yet push him away. “How could you?”

“Because I love you, darling girl.” Aegon forces out the words, despite the pain of his ailing body. “This is what’s best for you. To live a long and happy life with someone who can. Not to make you a widow before you could’ve been a proper wife.”

Aemond whispers to his wife. “Go to him, sweetling.”

Y/N shakes her head, she loves Aemond. She will be a good and faithful wife.

Aemond sighs, “you are allowed to love him as well.”

Aegon opens his arms for her, allowing her head to rest on his chest. Stroking dark hair as she traces the line of his jaw with her finger.

“I would’ve been with you every second.”

“I know.”

“I would’ve cared for you, you imbecile.”

“You have cared for me, more than you will ever know.” Aegon murmurs.

“I do not know how I can survive this.” Y/N admits. “Who will I wake with in the middle of the night for sweets? Who will listen to me ramble on about-”

“I will,” Aemond hushes her.

“See,” Aegon looks to his brother. “You will be well loved.”

Aemond nods to his brother. “You needn’t worry about her, I will take care of our girl for you.”

“In this life I will be with Aemond. I will be happy and loved, just as you’ve asked of me.”

“Thank you, darling girl.” Aegon says, with a hint of a smile.

“And in every life after I will be yours.” Y/N tells him. “We will fall in love a hundred times, in a hundred different ways. We’ll be together and I will give you everything I could not this time.”

“Promise me.”

“I swear it.” Y/N assures him.

“As do I, brother.” Aemond takes his hand.

Aegon nods, feeling his tired heart begin to slow. “Thank you.” He is ready then, as he will ever be. “Mayhaps we might be one, like the Conquers.”

“I should like that very much, brother.” Aemond admits, “though you must always keep to your side of the bed.”

Aegon lets out a low chuckle. “Of course.”

“I love you, Aegon.” Y/N’s arms tighten around him, as if she holds him close enough, he will not go.

“As I love you.” He murmurs, with his dying breath, “hush now, Aemond will hold you.”

Her husband strokes her hair, sweetly. Knowing there is nothing more he can do. Aegon draws his last breath, Y/N very well knows it. Screaming loudly enough to alert the attending maesters.

“His grace is gone, my princess.” The grand maester confirms. “The silent sisters must prepare his body.”

“I do not wish to leave him.”

Aemond sighs, helping her to sit up and then to stand.

Y/N throws her arms around him. The pain is too great, no person could bear it alone. Her heart splits open, aching for someone she will never see again.

Aemond assures her, “we’re going to survive this, you and I. We’re going to live our lives to the fullest, do my brother proud.”

She nods, head cradled against his chest.

“Breathe,” he reminds her, “for now, just breathe.”

————————————————————————-

Y/N cries for him often, the most gut wrenching sobs Aemond has ever known and he holds her. Rocking her, soothing her as best he can, though there is not much to be done for a broken heart. He prays it will heal in time.

“I feel closest to my brother when I am with you.” Aemond whispers, pressing a kiss to the worried line between her brows. “As though you were two halves of a whole. I do not fault your longing for him.”

“I do love you, Aemond.” Y/N breathes, leaning up to catch his lips.

Aemond nods, “I love you too.”

The future Queen and King Consort bless the crown with four sons. The first of which they name Aegon.

[jaeyunverse]

the perks of having a hot best friend

pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader

genres: fluff, crack, mild angst, best friends to lovers, college au

wc: 14336

warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, jeno is shirtless in a scene phew, too many idol features SORRY i lowk lost track of who i’ve included. i think that is all but lmk if you find something else!

summary: having a hot best friend is nice until you start getting butterflies in your stomach every single time you look at them.

note: JAEYUNVERSE COMEBACK WOOO i’ve missed writing long fics so much omfg but i’m shitting bricks as we speak LOL it’s been a while since i’ve posted something big and i won’t lie i’m hella nervous. i rlly hope you guys enjoy this fic ♡ please don’t hesitate to give me your feedback! here’s to hoping my writing skills haven’t become as rusty as i think i have hehe :’))

masterlist

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐊𝐒 !

01. an abundance of freebies and discounts

Lee Jeno knew the power his smile held. 

All it took was one flirty laugh combined with those sleepy eyes of his for people to melt. Being the resourceful person you were, you utilised that talent of his to its full extent. 

“Can you go and flirt with the cashier so she gives us a free muffin?” 

Your best friend gave you a dirty look. “You do realise this is supposed to be your treat, right?” 

“I am paying!” you exclaimed. “Just go do your thing and make her feel generous enough to slip a free dessert in our order.” 

Jeno rolled his eyes, but you knew you’d won. You almost always did. “Fine, whatever. You owe me one though.” 

“I’m feeding you because I owe you one,” you pointed out. “This makes us equal.”

“How riveting. I have to work so the person who owes me doesn’t have to owe me anymore.” 

“We can argue about this for hours or you can haul ass to the counter and place the damn order. I’ll Venmo you the money the moment you’re back,” you promised. 

Sliding out of the booth, Jeno said, “You’re lucky you’re cute. If this were Jaemin, I wouldn’t be letting him off the hook easily.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and shooed him away. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. 

“Hey!” you cried. “Don’t take me with you! The flirting won’t have any effect on her if she thinks we’re together!” 

“Everyone thinks we’re together,” Jeno muttered and got in line behind an old man. “She checked me out when we entered the cafe, saw you arm-in-arm with me and gave you the dirtiest look to ever exist.” 

You snorted. “Liar. You might be an eye candy but you do not command such a high level of attention.”   

“I’m telling the truth!” he argued. “I would know because I was checking out the drink she placed on the counter. I was trying to figure out what the person’s order might have been to get something so incredibly delicious-looking. I saw her out of the corner of my eye.” 

“Oh.” You frowned and took a step forward when the line moved ahead. “That’s unfortunate. Should we go to another cafe and try our hand at getting something free there?” 

“How about you stop being such a cheap skate for once?”

Slapping his shoulder hard, you grumbled, “I have to bear the weight of my goddamn rent alone while you share yours with three others! I need to cut down on certain things, asshole.” 

“My offer to move in with you next semester still stands.” Jeno wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m a really good housemate; ask the others.” 

“You live with boys. The disgusting things you do don’t bother them because they do them too.” 

He closed his mouth and thought about it for a second. Then, “Touché.” 

You rolled your eyes, but before you could make another snarky comment, a pleasant voice interrupted, “Good morning. What can I get for you today?” 

Jeno averted his gaze to the girl standing behind the counter and let a lazy smile take form on his lips. You raised a brow and watched in amusement. 

“Hey there. Can I get a Strawberries & Crème Frappuccino with 1 pump caramel syrup, 1 pump hazelnut syrup, and 1 pump toffee-nut syrup? Java chips too, please.” 

The girl—Lia, according to her name tag—looked surprised to see him blatantly flirting with you right beside him. Maybe he was right about every stranger assuming the two of you to be together, though you couldn’t fathom why. “O—okay.”

“What do you want, friend?” Jeno stressed the last word. Refraining to roll your eyes a second time, you said, 

“Iced coffee without milk. Could you add some sugar to the brew? I prefer my drinks to be sweet.” 

“Of course,” she said and nodded once, unfazed even after learning of Jeno’s status as an eligible bachelor. 

Snorting under your breath, you whispered to him, “Lia doesn’t give a fuck. You’re lacking.” 

He scoffed and nudged you away. “No, I’m not,” he whisper-snapped. “Get out of here. You’re killing my vibe.” 

You deadpanned and gave him a don’t-bullshit-me look but retreated to your booth nonetheless. The last thing you heard Lia ask was: “Anything else?” 

You’d only been sitting and scrolling through your phone for a few minutes before a hand slapped a receipt on the table in front of you. 

Glancing up, you inquired, “What?” 

“Read the order.” 

Dropping your gaze to the piece of paper again, you picked it up. An appreciative frown tugged at your lips as Jeno slid into his seat. “You managed to get us a free muffin and a free bagel?”

“Don’t ever question my talents again,” he ordered and leaned back. Resting his arm on the cushion behind him and placing his ankle on his knee, his attitude was nothing short of a king’s. “I won’t tolerate any further slander.” 

“Uh-huh,” you muttered, utterly unimpressed. Though you admit, a smile threatened to break out on your face and you had to bite your lip to keep it from escaping. 

Jeno raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for something. All you did was stare at him, and when he realised you wouldn’t budge, he did an extremely horrible and high-pitched imitation of you that should have deserved jail. “Thank you sooooooo much, Jeno! If it weren’t for your flirting skills, I wouldn’t have anything to eat. You’re my one and only saviour, and I don’t know what I would have done without—”

“Order for Jeno!” Lia hollered. 

Said-boy flinched and clutched his heart with his hand. “What the… That was quick.” Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to you, the tips of his ears red and his face flushed. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. Venmo me the bill amount.” 

You snickered and watched him get up. However, before he could move out of earshot, you called his name. “Thank you for your service.” 

Jeno glanced at you over his shoulder and did nothing but observe you for a moment. Then, a lopsided grin took form on his lips and he mock saluted. 

“You’re welcome.” 

02. gives good boy advice

“What are you doing here?” 

Pushing past you, Jeno strolled into your living room and plopped down on your sofa. “Is that any way to greet your best friend?” 

You rolled your eyes and closed the front door. Sitting down beside him, you placed your laptop on your lap again and resumed going through your notes. “I’m being serious. Were we supposed to hang out today? Because I cannot. I still have three finals left.” 

“No, we didn’t have any plans today,” he said, peering over your shoulder to check what subject you were studying. It was Economics. Horrible memories from the previous semester resurfaced and he shuddered before continuing, “Your text said you wanted to talk about something important?” 

You paused and glanced at him. “So you came over?” 

“Do you want me to leave?” Jeno frowned. “I thought it would be better to talk in person.”

He stood up and dusted himself off. Eyes widening, you grabbed his wrist and forced him back to his original position. “That’s not what I meant! I do want to talk to you but—it’s weird. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever has happened right now and I’m getting second thoughts about asking you for advice.” 

Concern seeped into Jeno’s face. “Woah, are you okay? You don’t have to explain anything right now. Just tell me one thing: do I need to beat anyone up? I’ve got a few gym buddies who are ripped.”

You huffed a laugh and placed your laptop on the coffee table. Crossing your legs, you turned to face him. Upon watching you get comfortable, your best friend rolled his shoulders back and did the same thing. 

“Before I say anything, I need you to promise me that you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me. Or call me an idiot.” 

“I won’t,” he answered immediately, though he wondered what issue warranted you to require his word. 

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “YangYang asked me out a few days ago. I’ve always liked him, but not in a way that’s not platonic. I fucked up and instead of rejecting him right there, I asked him for some time to think it over and kinda led him to believe that I would say yes.”

Jeno raised an eyebrow. “How?” 

“I told him he’s my type,” you mumbled, cringing at the memories that came rushing back. 

“What?!” he exclaimed. “How the hell did you manage to do that?” 

“I don’t know!” you whined and buried your face in your hands. “He came up to me when I was in the library and asked if we could talk! I didn’t know he was going to drop such a bomb on me so I said yes. Then he started talking about how he’s always cherished our friendship and how he’s so glad to have me.

“I started suspecting where his train of thought was headed when he added a but to his sentence. He said he’s liked me for a while now and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. I was flabbergasted once he was done! I’ve always viewed him as a good friend and I didn’t want to just turn his heart down!”

“So you told him he was your type?” Jeno asked incredulously. “I know I promised to not call you an idiot but you’re really fucking stupid, Y/N! It’s going to be hella awkward when the group meets up!” 

You groaned and closed your eyes shut, letting yourself fall on your back. “That’s not even the worst part.” 

Jeno grabbed your wrists and hauled you back up. His face was barely a few inches away from yours when he ordered, “Explain.”

Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I told YangYang that he was cute and my type but I wasn’t in a position to think about going out with anyone with still two weeks of finals left to get through. I thought he would drop it but he asked me if I would think about his confession after our exams and I felt terrible telling him the truth. So I said I would. Yeji called me last night and said she set me up on a blind date with this guy in her class. You know how fast word spreads here. YangYang is going to know I dangled him on strings only to go on a date with someone else!” 

“You’re going on a blind date? With whom?” 

You flicked Jeno’s forehead. “That’s not the issue!” 

“Well, I want to know!” he sputtered and slapped your hand away. 

“I don’t know! Frankly, I don’t care either. I made a bet with Yeji and I lost. Now I have to spend an evening with a random guy I don’t even want to seek a romantic relationship with.” 

Your best friend sighed in frustration. “This might be one of your biggest fuck-ups till now.”

“I know,” you said quietly and dropped your gaze to your lap in shame. 

“You’ll have to apologise to YangYang and tell him the truth. He’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve any of this.” 

“I know.” 

“Hey,” Jeno said softly. You glanced at him to see he’d gotten up and was holding his out for you. “Come here.” 

You rose to your feet and let him envelop you in his comforting embrace. Burying your face in his chest, you whispered, “I never wanted to hurt YangYang. I don’t want to lose him as a friend.” 

“You won’t as long as you come clean and explain everything. Don’t insult him further by giving him more half-truths. Guys would rather know what’s the real deal than be lied to and find out from someone else. Not only is it hurtful, but it’s a huge blow to the ego.”  

Your lips curled in a small smile and you leaned back a little to look at his face. “Is this about your mom lying to you about the tooth fairy?” 

“Damn right it is,” he grumbled. “I gave an entire speech about her being my favourite person in the whole world. That’s not something you recover from easily.”

“It’s been 15 years.”

“It’ll take me another 15 to come to terms with the fact that I used to rip my loose teeth out and place them under my pillow when I needed money urgently.” 

You laughed and pulled yourself out of his arms. “I can’t believe I’m taking guy advice from you.” 

“Why?” Jeno exclaimed. “I’m a guy too! Plus, I always give good advice!” 

You giggled and plopped down on the sofa again. “I know. But you’re also Jeno. I’ve never thought of you as just a guy.” 

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.” 

“How about you sit your ass down and help me study now that you’re here? I made flash cards.” 

Snatching the stack from your hand, Jeno teased, “Oh, how would you survive without me?”

“I don’t have to wonder about that shit.” You grinned. “There’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.” 

He laughed. “And thank fuck for that.” 

03. hugs always make you feel safe thanks to all the beef underneath

You were going to drag Jeno to the seventh circle of Hell. 

You couldn’t afford to go grocery shopping with him when you had a huge exam the next day. You hadn’t studied shit and were one “have you prepared for tomorrow’s final?” away from a mental breakdown. 

It didn’t help that Yeji had called you in the middle of the night to clear a doubt she had from a chapter you didn’t even know had been covered.

You’d been panicking ever since and it felt like you were going to get a heart attack at any moment.  

“Doritos or Lays?” 

“Kick to the nuts or knuckles to the jaw?” 

Your best friend tore his gaze from the rack of chips and eyed you warily. “I said I’ll help you study tonight.” 

“You don’t understand, Jeno!” you exclaimed and ran a hand through your messy hair, pacing in the supermarket aisle impatiently. “I’m going to fail! Fail!”  

Groaning, Jeno grabbed your arm and forced you to face him. He held your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, enunciating each word as he reiterated, “You’re not going to fail. We’re going to pull an all-nighter in the library, but we need to be stocked up on food before we do that.” 

You sighed painfully. It burned your eyes to just focus on anything—how the hell were you supposed to stay awake for another day and write a three-hour-long exam after that? 

“You could have come here without dragging me with you,” you muttered. “I could have been studying at home instead of wasting precious time.”

Jeno frowned. “Any more time in front of your laptop and you would have gone insane, Y/N. Your eyes are completely red.” 

“Oh, that’s not because of the screen time. I cried before you came to check on me.” 

Huffing a small laugh that bordered on exasperation, amusement and worry, Jeno threw a few packets of Doritos in the shopping cart before slinging an arm around your neck. You let him pull you against him and wrapped your arms around his waist as the two of you began walking. 

“Well, you needed to get out anyway. I don’t remember the last time I saw you leave your apartment.” 

“I stepped outside yesterday to play with the neighbour’s cat,” you said defensively. 

“Not good enough,” Jeno popped. “We’re going to go get a massage once we’re done shopping.” 

You stopped in your tracks and peeled yourself away from him. “The final is in twenty-eight hours!” you yelled, staring at him incredulously. “Are you fucking stupid?!” 

“So you have plenty of time to de-stress before you start studying again!” he chirped, paying no heed to your concerns nor the people who had heard your outburst and were giving you odd looks. “Trust me, I went for a massage before my final and I was so relaxed. It helped me to focus too.” 

“Jeno,” you uttered his name with barely contained impatience. “I don’t have time. I need to cover a lot of shit before I go and sit in the fucking examination hall.” 

“And I said I’ll help!” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated. Pushing the shopping cart forward again, he studied the shelves and continued, “You always do this, Y/N. You freak out before a test and act like the world is ending only for you to do super well.”

“Well—” you began, stumbling after him— “that’s just my coping mechanism! The more worried I am, the better I do. But I’m screwed for real this time!” 

“No,” Jeno popped, placing a 2-litre bottle of Sprite in the cart. “I’m not listening to you this time. Especially not after you stayed awake for three days straight for your midterm.” 

You sighed again. There was no arguing with your best friend. “How long is this massage of yours going to take?” 

“We’ll be back at your place in two hours max,” he reassured you, patting your head. You swatted his hand away and gave him a dirty look. “I think we have everything we need to make it through today and tomorrow.” 

“Why do we need such a big bottle of Sprite?” 

“Party at my place this weekend. There’s a discount so I’m buying in advance.”

You frowned. “Shouldn’t you be stocking up on booze?”

“The guys said I have an alcohol addiction,” Jeno said, getting in line at the billing counter. “Which is, like, totally untrue but you know I never back down from a challenge. I’m going to prove them wrong by staying sober for two weeks.”

“Sure,” you snorted. “You’ll just find lame loopholes or cheat when no one’s looking.”

A sly grin took form on Jeno’s lips. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and drawled, “I know what you do when no one’s looking.”

“Really?” You feigned a gasp. “You know I sneak over to your house and steal your food when you’re not there?”

His smile dropped immediately. “Wait, what? That’s you? Not Hyuck?”

“The food thief is me but the one stealing your sheet masks is Hyuck,” you admitted.

“He steals my masks?! The ones I buy are expensive as fuck!” Jeno exclaimed, betrayal seeping into his features. His hands fell to his side and his eyes turned distant. “I can’t believe he’s been gaslighting me into thinking I do an extra round of skincare when I’m drunk.”

You giggled and pushed the shopping cart forward once the person in front of you was done. Placing the contents on the billing counter for the cashier to scan, you revealed, “Hyuck saw me raiding your pantry when you were at the gym. He used that as leverage against me for weeks before I saw him stealing your sheet masks and was able to finally strike a deal—he turns a blind eye to my robberies and I turn a blind eye to his.”

“Why’d you team up with him?” Jeno pouted. “I thought we were best friends.”

You laughed incredulously. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the part where Hyuck and I used your stuff without asking?”

“Well, yeah, I’m pissed you used my shit. But I guess I’m just a little more bothered that you guys teamed up,” Jeno said and shrugged, fetching his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Because, you know, coming together to make people suffer has always been our thing.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by how he was beating around the bush. “Are you saying you wanna team up with me to get back at Hyuck?”

Jeno grinned. “I’m gonna screw over that motherfucker so bad. You get off the hook, though, because you’re cute and I need your help.”

“You’re impossible.” You huffed and shook your head. Taking the bag of groceries, you said to him, “Text me my share and I’ll Venmo the money to you.”

“You could buy me an ice cream instead.”

“No,” you denied immediately. “We’re not wasting time on ice cream. Massage and then straight home so I can pick up my study material and we can leave for the library.”

Thankfully, Jeno didn’t protest. He drove you to your apartment complex and waited for you while you packed your bag. Then, the two of you were off to the massage place.

An hour later, you were done and forced to admit that the massage had indeed helped you. It felt like all the stress had left your body. Thinking about the final didn’t make you want to cry anymore and things were actually looking up now that you were rested.

You were able to retain the knowledge better and it was easier to understand the concepts. Jeno quizzed you and provided you with an endless supply of coffee throughout the night.

Right before lunch the next day, however, the panic resurfaced as you were revising your syllabus for the last time before your final at 3. You couldn’t seem to remember anything you had studied the previous night. 

You could feel another breakdown coming, but before you could hyperventilate, Jeno scooped you up in his arms.

You hadn’t even realised when he’d come back from picking up your food. One minute, you were trying to control your breath and the next, your face was buried in his hard chest.

You held onto his shirt as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and he rocked you from side to side.

“Shh, don’t cry,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “You’re gonna ace the final like you always do. You were able to answer all the quiz questions, so keep in mind that you are prepared. The pre-exam anxiety is just clouding your thoughts. Everything’s gonna come back to you when you sit down to write, alright?”

Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and bit down on your lip to keep a sob from escaping. Jeno’s presence kept acting like a tether for you. It always had.

Maybe he was right about the final. Maybe he wasn’t. But at that moment, engulfed in his warm, safe embrace, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 !

01. having to deal with a narcissistic asshole. 

It was an especially sweltering day. 

You were being baked inside-out despite wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, your hair tied in a messy high bun. Adding to your torment was your broken A/C. You’d requested your landlord to fix it several times but your efforts were to no avail. 

You would have kept bothering him incessantly and gotten the job done if you weren’t so intimidated by him already. 

Sighing, you eyed your bathroom. A cold shower sounded like an amazing idea. Jeno wasn’t supposed to come over to watch the movie for a while anyway. 

Deciding to cool yourself and get rid of the sweat sticking to your body, you entered the tiny bathroom. A high-pitched squeal left your mouth the moment you turned the shower knob and the cold water hit your skin. 

“Fuck,” you cursed and flinched, turning the knob the other way immediately. Your shitty apartment didn’t even have a valve to adjust the temperature—the water was either mildly hot or ice cold. Showering in summer was always a big problem.

“God, I don’t wanna keep doing this,” you mumbled to yourself and stepped into your room again. 

There was this… thing you’d been doing ever since you moved into this apartment. Whenever it was hot, you’d work out so you’d get more sweaty. That way, when you showered under the ice-cold water, it didn’t feel as unbearable. 

It was weird and there probably was no science behind it, but you didn’t care as long as it worked. 

So, you rolled out your yoga mat on the floor and began warming up. 

Within no time, your skin was glistening with sweat and your hair was damp. You were struggling to complete the last push-up of your final set when someone knocked on your door, causing you to lose your focus. Your arms gave out beneath you, and you collapsed to the ground. 

“Woah, it’s boiling in here,” Jeno pointed out intelligently. “And you look like you’re one move away from dying. God, I can’t even breathe Why the fuck are you working out with the windows closed? Are you stupid?” 

Groaning, you rolled on your back and watched your best friend as he moved to the windows and threw them open. “Hey!” you protested weakly and raised a trembling arm in a pathetic attempt to stop him. “I’m trying to do something!”

Jeno raised an eyebrow at you and grabbed your hand, hauling you up effortlessly. “Oh, yeah? Pray tell.” 

You crashed into his chest and rebounded, but he tightened his hold on you. His palm hovered over your back in case you lost your balance. Steadying yourself, you glared at him and snapped, “No. You’re gonna make fun of me.”

“I won’t!” Jeno laughed, his eyes crinkling. 

“Stop, you’re doing it already!” 

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. I really do wanna know what you were doing.” 

You eyed him for a moment, waiting for him to slip up and start laughing again. But Jeno’s face remained mildly curious. Satisfied, you explained, “Well, because I was feeling hot, I decided to take a shower. The water here is very cold, though, so I decided to work out in a closed room because that would make me even hotter. If I get in the shower now, it wouldn’t feel as cold because my body temperature has already increased, and the water would be sort of neutralised.” 

A beat of silence passed. And then, “I know I said I wouldn’t make fun of you—”

“Then stop talking.”

“But did you not realise you could have mixed the hot and cold water in a bucket?” Jeno continued, clearly still talking. “Or, I don’t know, come over to my place to shower?” 

“You live with three other men.” You deadpanned. “I was not going to shower in your apartment with Jaemin, Renjun and Hyuck there. Also, I don’t have a big enough bucket, so I will be buying one today,” you added, muttering the last bit. 

Jeno rolled his eyes. “God, Y/N, I would have kicked the guys out.” 

“What makes you think they would have listened to you?” you asked amusedly.

“Okay, true,” he agreed. “They would have listened to you, though. If there’s anyone who’s bossy enough to get them out of the house on a hot Sunday afternoon, it’s you.” 

“Are you calling me bossy?” 

“Are you going to shower now?” he deflected. “You stink.”

“Shut up!” you exclaimed and slapped his shoulder hard, but laughed nonetheless. Moving away from him, you kicked him off your yoga mat and said, “You opened the windows and interrupted my workout, so I don’t feel as hot anymore. I think I’m gonna exercise a little more so I don’t die of hypothermia in the shower. You can take my laptop and choose a movie till then if you want.”

“How about I work out with you?” Jeno suggested. “We can have our gym bros moment.” 

“I don’t wanna have a gym bros moment with you.”

“Why?” he whined. 

Flicking his forehead, you said, “Because I know you’re gonna turn this into a competition, and I’m not in the mood.” 

“Scared?”

“You wish,” you scoffed. “I’m tired from all the working out I did before you came, and I’m not going against you when you have that advantage over me.” 

“That still means you’re scared. Pussy.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you got into the position for a plank. “Get out if you’re going to keep being annoying and not contribute shit to our gym bros moment.”

“I knew you’d come around,” Jeno replied smugly. You practically heard the grin in his voice when he said that. 

You closed your eyes and laboured your breathing as you felt your abdomen begin to burn almost immediately. “Had to, or I knew you’d keep irritating me.” 

Opening your lids, you turned your neck to see if he was doing the exercise with you. 

Your arms gave out the moment you saw Jeno shirtless, his bulging biceps on full display.

“Damn, you lost quicker than I thought,” he commented. 

“Why are you naked?!” you demanded in a shrill voice. 

Still in position, Jeno only glanced at you like you were out of your mind. “I was wearing a hoodie, Y/N. Did you expect me to do a plank in that furnace?” 

“Yeah!” you exclaimed. To your dismay, your eyes kept drifting to his well-defined muscles no matter how much you tried to focus on his face. 

To make things worse, Jeno noticed. And smirked. “Stop complaining if you’re enjoying the view so much. It’s okay to admit you have a hot best friend.”

Flustered, you scrambled to your feet and looked at the ceiling. God, you felt like a stupid middle schooler. It was insane how much of an effect Jeno was having on you. What was weirder was that your mind was drifting to places it had never been before. At least where your best friend was concerned. 

“Narcissus has nothing on you,” you muttered under your breath, and tried to gather your bearings. 

“Besides,” Jeno continued, having not heard you. “I do send you pictures sometimes. I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ve never seen me like this.” 

“Your phone’s camera is fucked, Jeno,” you grumbled. “The photos you texted me didn’t capture half of what’s actually there.”

No matter what you hadn’t seen, you’d felt whenever you hugged each other. It didn’t take away your surprise upon seeing the 2440p quality visual though. 

“Is that disappointment I hear?” he taunted. 

“No!” you exclaimed and finally looked at him again. At the sight of his working muscles, you muttered, “Can we stop now? You won.”

“Ah!” Jeno dragged the word as if he had just stumbled upon a revelation. “You want me to stand up so you can get a better view of my abs? Got it.” 

Your eyes widened, and before you could deny his ridiculous accusations, he was towering over you. Wiggling his eyebrows, he gestured towards himself and flexed dramatically. 

“You’re an idiot,” you huffed, unable to help yourself. 

“Yeah? Then I guess an idiot just managed to fluster the shit out of you.” Jeno smiled and ruffled your hair. Bending, he picked up his discarded hoodie and shrugged it back on. “I’ll go and get you a bathing bucket from the supermarket around the corner. Don’t freeze yourself to death.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I won’t.” 

“Also, do you remember the shirt I forgot here all those months ago after I got wet in the rain? Can you find it so I can change into it when I’m back?” He frowned and looked at himself. “I’ll eventually toast myself if I watch the movie in my hoodie.”

“Sure, but you’re stupid for wearing warm clothes in summer,” you commented.  

Jeno gave you a dirty look. “Sorry for assuming your A/C was in working condition. Besides, you always want to cuddle when we watch movies, so I figured you’d be more comfortable if I was wearing a hoodie.” 

Your cheeks warmed at that, your heart stumbling a beat. What was wrong with you? You’d always known Jeno was caring and went out of his way to do nice things for you.

Typically, you’d have felt grateful for how thoughtful he was being. 

Now, though, you felt that and… something else that you didn’t really want to acknowledge. 

“Whatever,” you said instead, trying to sound dismissive. Pushing him out of your room, you continued, “I’ll find it. Just hurry up with the bucket.” 

A few minutes after Jeno was gone, a notification popped up on your phone. 

[jeno]: clearer picture that i clicked on jaemin’s phone for your viewing pleasure :”) 

You blinked in confusion and opened the photo that was attached below, your eyes widening the moment you saw it. It was a zoomed-in gym mirror selfie of Jeno wearing nothing but sweatpants and shoes, his muscular abdomen on full display. 

[you]: did you crop jaemin? 

[jeno]: ???? [jeno]: wdym……. [you]: the photo’s dimensions are weird [jeno]: oh [jeno]: what the fuck [you]: LMFAOOO [jeno]: STOP I DIDN’T WANT YOU LOOKING AT HIM INSTEAD OF ME I’VE GOT A BETTER BODY ANYWAY AND I’M GONNA BUY A NEW PHONE SO I CAN SEND YOU CLEARER PICS WITHOUT HAVING TO CROP THAT FUCKER OUT 

You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling too wide. Right before you were about to type a reply, you received another text from your best friend. 

[jeno]: so are you gonna tell me what you think [you]: FINE you’re hot. [you]: happy?  [jeno]: euphoric

Finally laughing out loud, you shook your head. 

Narcissus had nothing on Jeno indeed.

02. female friends ask you to be their wingwoman 

You didn’t think you’d ever accompanied Jeno to a party without having someone ask you to set them up with him. 

“Please,” Yoo Jimin begged for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Yeji said he was single!” 

Sighing, you mentally cursed Yeji for inviting Jimin to Jeno’s party. “He is, but I’m not setting you up with him.” 

“Why?” Jimin demanded rather aggressively, making you wonder what it would take for her to quit nagging you. “Do you like him or something?” 

It took a concerning amount of effort for you to refrain from rolling your eyes. “I do not.” 

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“I don’t know, Jimin!” you finally burst and gestured at your surroundings. “Maybe I’m not too keen on helping you out because you followed me into the washroom and cornered me! Maybe I feel used because you’ve never shown much interest in me even though I’ve tried striking up a conversation with you several times before!”  

Jimin’s features softened, and she looked away. “You’re right,” she muttered, guilt and shame evident in her voice. “I’m sorry for jumping on you like that.” 

You immediately felt bad for snapping at her. Pursing your lips, you tried to cheer her up. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need me to set you up with him anyway. I know we haven’t hung out much, but based on what I’ve heard about you from Yeji, you’re smart, funny and social. You have no reason to be nervous while approaching Jeno.” 

For some reason, you regretted encouraging Jimin to pursue your best friend. A gaping hole formed in your heart, and you wished she would go for someone else instead. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” Jimin smiled gratefully. “I know I’ve been a shitty person, but could you give me another chance? I’d really like to get to know you more.” 

And just like that, the hollowness in your chest was gone. You gave her a genuine smile of your own and said, “I gotta pee right now, but does lunch tomorrow work for you?”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot where we were.” Rubbing the nape of her neck sheepishly, she replied, “Lunch works. I’ll text you tonight so we can talk about it.” 

The two of you exchanged your goodbyes, and then she was gone. A few minutes later, you exited the washroom as well and headed back to the party. 

“I missed you,” a voice slurred in your ear. Arms circled around your waist, and a face buried itself into the crook of your neck. 

You laughed. “You failed the challenge, Jeno.” 

“Where were you?” he demanded in an almost whiny tone. “It’s your fault! I wouldn’t have lost at beer pong if you’d been playing with me.” 

Patting Jeno’s back in consolation, you replied, “I’m sorry you have zero self-control and commit to things you know you won’t be able to do.” 

Jeno peeled himself away from you and pouted. “You’re mean.”

“Thanks. Let’s get wasted together,” you said, but then added upon looking at his already tipsy condition, “Or I can get wasted, and your ass can keep me company.”  

“Don’t you think one of us should be sober?” Jeno asked as you pulled him along.

“I’m not gonna hold back from drinking!” you exclaimed. “Let me remind you that you were supposed to be the sober one today and make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. I’m blaming you if I get naked in the yard.” 

Thanks to the music that was gradually getting louder as you approached the main party area, you didn’t hear your best friend’s response. You tightened your grip on his hand when the crowd thickened. Wading your way through the dancing throng, you finally reached the table lined with alcohol and food. 

You chose a bottle of Romanov and popped it open, drinking straight from it. You’d barely taken a few gulps when Jeno snatched it from you and put it to his own mouth. 

Throwing him a dirty look, you picked up another bottle for yourself. “Do you wanna dance?”

“I wanna throw up.” 

“Suit yourself.” You shrugged and aimed for the dance floor. A smile crept on your face upon seeing Jaemin; you were not in the mood to dance alone. 

“Y/N!” he hollered when he noticed you. Stumbling towards you, he pulled you in a quick embrace. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 

“Finals!” you answered. Jaemin nodded in understanding and ran a hand through his hair, taking a swig from his beer. “Do you wanna dance?” 

You grinned. “You know I do.” 

The next few hours were a complete blur. The bottle in your hand was replaced by more one after the other, and when Jaemin deemed you’d had enough to drink, he gave you a red solo cup filled with water instead. 

It felt good to finally unwind after the horrible few weeks you’d had. There was no academic stress weighing down on you anymore, and though you were low on sleep, you didn’t want to stop partying. 

You just wished you and Jeno had gotten wasted together. While you were having fun with Jaemin, partying with Jeno was a different experience entirely. 

Right as you were about to take a sip from your cup, you felt an arm being thrown around your neck. The touch was so familiar that you recognised who it was immediately. 

“I missed you!” you exclaimed. Jeno looked down at you with a grin on his face, a pair of black party glasses sitting on his nose. His hair was damp and fell over his forehead. Maybe it was the liquor in your system, but you could have sworn he never looked better. “Let’s dance.”

“Dance?” Jeno laughed. “Haven’t you been doing that for the past two hours? Don’t your feet hurt?” 

Frowning, you glanced at your legs. “They do!” you exclaimed, and looked back at him again, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Feeling tears beginning to pool in your eyes, you mumbled, “But I still want to dance.”

“How about we go on the roof instead? The stars look pretty tonight,” your best friend suggested, trying his best not to laugh at you. “I didn’t drink at all after you left me. I’m sober enough to take care of you now.” 

Your eyes lit up at that. “Wow, that’s such a good idea! You’re so smart, Jeno. I love you.”  

Jeno’s lips finally twitched up in a smile. “I love you too, silly.” 

Plucking the solo cup out of your hand, he offered you an arm. You looped yours through it with a soft thank you and leaned on him as he led you upstairs. 

The two of you entered his dark room, and Jeno shut the door behind him. Only when the loud music was muffled did you realise your head was throbbing.  

He unhooked your arms gently and grabbed a warm blanket off his bed. Throwing open his window, he jumped out on the flat roof and looked at you expectantly. 

You staggered behind Jeno and took the hand he was holding out for you. His other hand hovered over your waist as you climbed on the sill. 

Thanks to the alcohol in your system, your balance was non-existent, and your legs turned to jelly the moment they made contact with the roof. Fortunately, your best friend was there to catch you.

You bumped into Jeno’s chest instead of falling to the ground. He wrapped his arms around you and steadied you, laughing a little at your antics. 

“God, how much did you drink?” you heard him wonder to himself. You mumbled an incoherent response and leaned against the outside wall of his room, watching him lay the spread on the floor. 

The two of you usually climbed the ladder that led to the slanting roof at the very top of the house, but you reckoned the boy in front of you didn’t want to risk taking you up there when you were so wasted. 

Jeno sat down on the blanket once he was done and peeked at you over his shoulder, patting the space beside him. “Come on.” 

Pushing yourself off the siding, you stumbled to him, tripping over your feet a bit. You were able to keep your balance, though, and a moment later, you found yourself lying on the blanket next to him.

Your shoulders brushed against each other, the warmth from his body seeping into you. It was summer, but the night air was still chilly, especially now that you were on the roof. You were thankful for the protection Jeno offered against the mild cold. 

The music was blaring once again now that you were outside, and there were no barriers to deafen it, but the volume barely bothered you. Your eyes were on the stars, trying to identify the constellations.

“I see Orion right there,” Jeno said, pointing at the sky. You followed his finger, and sure enough, there it was. “And there’s Ursa Minor.” He moved his hand after noting that you had recognised Orion. 

“I don’t see it,” you muttered, blinking heavily to clear your sight. 

“Can you see Polaris?” he asked, glancing at you for a moment. 

You raised your hand and pointed it at a random star that was nowhere near the one Jeno was referring to. “There.” 

Jeno snorted. “You could spot Orion, but you can’t identify the brightest star in the sky?” Without waiting for a response, your best friend grabbed your arm and directed it to the right star. “That is Polaris.” 

“Woah.” You gaped and lowered your arm. “It’s so shiny.” 

Jeno laughed again upon hearing the child-like wonder in your voice. You stargazed often and always challenged each other to see who could identify the most constellations in a minute. He knew the night sky was familiar to you, but seeing you like this reminded Jeno of the first time he brought you to his roof and introduced you to his favourite hobby. 

“Do you want it?” he teased. 

Eyes widening, you turned your neck to look at him, your faces so close you could count his lashes. “Really?” 

“Really,” he said and pinched your cheek, unable to help himself. “I’ll get it for you.” 

A wide smile immediately broke across your lips, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you!” you squealed. 

Jeno chuckled, a little surprised that you had practically climbed on top of him, and part of him was caged under you now. He didn’t mind the sudden intimacy. It had always been his love language; any sort of physical contact with you—be it comparing hand sizes or carrying you on his back—warmed his heart. 

Patting your head, he asked, “You want me to show you the rest of Ursa Minor?” 

“Yes.” You nodded into the crook of his neck and peeled yourself away from him, but your head still rested where his shoulder met his arm. 

Brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on your face, he averted his gaze to the sky. “Polaris is the tail of The Little Dipper. Now we move towards the left. See the star that’s above the brightest? That’s Delta. Epsilon is above Delta too, but the distance between them is not as much as the distance between the first two. Zeta is below—” 

You tuned Jeno out. He was still showing you the stars that made up the constellations, far too invested to notice that you were no longer paying attention to what he was saying and were looking at something much more beautiful instead. 

You’d always known your best friend was attractive. You’d have to be blind to not notice his striking features—they were sharp with a certain softness around the edges. His face always stood out in crowds and demanded people’s undivided attention. 

Rightfully so, you thought to yourself as you admired his perfectly straight nose and the shape of his soft lips, diverting your gaze to his eyes. You’d always thought they were his best features. They were warm and open and felt like home. It deserves to be appreciated. 

“Pherka, Eta, Kochab and Zeta form a—”

“You’re prettier.”

Jeno glanced at you, your faces mere inches away and those beautiful eyes peering into yours with slight confusion. “What?”

“You said the stars looked pretty tonight,” you whispered. “I think you’re prettier.” You paused for a moment, as if rethinking your words. Then, “I think you’re the prettiest person in the world.”

A fond smile crept on your best friend’s face, and maybe it was because your ear was in the vicinity of his heart, but you could have sworn you heard it thumping loudly against his ribcage. Lightly bumping his forehead against yours, Jeno whispered back, 

“I think you’re the prettiest person in the world too.” 

03. it’s very easy to fall for them, especially when they’re always so sweet and caring

The first thing you felt upon regaining your consciousness was pain. 

Your skull was splitting apart, the little bit of sunlight creeping in through the closed curtains rendering you blind. Nausea was beginning to set in, but your body was so weak that you weren’t sure you could make it to the toilet in time. 

You should have never drunk so much. Not only had you not taken any proper rest after working yourself to exhaustion during your finals, but had also danced to the point you couldn’t move your legs. Heck, you couldn’t even remember much of the party. You recalled leaving Jeno behind to party with Jaemin, but everything after that was a huge blank slate. 

The toilet was far away, but you could try reaching the dustbin near the study table instead of just throwing up on the carpet. Groaning, you tried to push yourself up. When that didn’t work, you put all strength in your abdomen and threw yourself off the bed. 

A shockwave of agony passing through your body rendered you immobile on the ground. You moaned in pain and curled in on yourself, covering your mouth with a hand upon tasting bile on your tongue. 

The door was thrown open, and a worried Jeno gaped at you lying on his room’s hard floor motionlessly. “What the fuck?” 

“Dustbin,” you croaked with much difficulty, tears springing to your eyes. They hurt so much you wanted to rip them out. 

Your best friend moved into action immediately. “I kept the dustbin right beside the bed in case you got sick, you blind twat truck. Along with painkillers and water on the table.”  

You found it in yourself to glare at the boy, but he ignored you. Placing the waste basket in front of you, he helped you up. You gripped the rim as he gathered your hair in his hand and held it up to avoid it getting in the way of your vomit. 

Right before you emptied the toxins in your body, you managed to say to him, “How capable do I look to you right now, you stupid toe-licking grinch man?” 

Jeno rolled his eyes and rubbed your back with his other hand, patiently waiting for you to finish. Once your heaving stopped, you took the tissue he was holding out for you and wiped your mouth. You felt much better after throwing up but you were still so tired. 

“Come on.”

You swatted Jeno’s hand away and rested your back on his bed, tucking your legs under your chin. “Too much effort,” you muttered and closed your eyes, willing the headache to go away.

“I was going to carry you to the bed, Y/N,” he said in exasperation. 

“I just need a moment,” you whispered almost incoherently, wishing he would stop asking you questions when you had no energy to answer. “A moment and an Aspirin.” 

There was some shuffling, and then you felt a hand brushing your matted hair out of your face. “Here.”

You peeled your lids open to see Jeno crouched in front of you with water and the painkiller you had asked for. Taking it from his hand, you popped it into your mouth and gulped down some water. 

For a few moments, you tried to regulate your breathing and calm yourself down. Jeno could tell you were gathering the willpower and strength to climb back on his bed. He wanted to help, but you clearly didn’t want it. So, he just watched you silently struggle.

He should have been with you last night; he hated that he wasn’t when he had promised to be the sober half. As far as Jeno was concerned, Jaemin was going to get an earful about keeping tabs on how much his friends drank. Never in the two years of friendship had he seen you with such a huge hangover. 

“Fuck,” he heard you curse under your breath. You moaned in pain as you pushed yourself up on trembling arms and fell on his mattress. Sighing, Jeno tucked you in and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“Sleep well,” he said and made his way to the door. “I’ll wake you up for lunch. Renjun is making grilled sandwiches.” 

Your eyes flew open again. Fuck. You were supposed to meet Jimin. 

“Jeno, wait,” you blurted, and he stopped in his tracks. “I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch, but I don’t think I can make it. Can you cover for me?” 

Your best friend leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which friend?” 

“Jimin.” 

“I thought she ghosted you.” He frowned. “Now you’re meeting her for lunch?” 

“No, you are meeting her for lunch. I don’t wanna be rude and cancel at the last minute. What if she already left?”

“It’s 10 in the morning.”

“Well, what if she turned down other offers because of the plans we made?” 

“She left an hour ago with Mark after passing out on the couch in Hyuck’s room last night. I doubt she’s had the time to turn down any other offers. Actually, I think she’ll be glad you cancelled. She looked pretty hungover when she left.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” you whined, wincing when the throbbing in your head responded to the sudden increase in the volume of your voice. “I’m only asking you for a small favour.” 

“I’m not being difficult,” Jeno defended himself and took a few steps towards you. “I’m trying to tell you that you may be overthinking this. Let me send her a text from your phone asking for a reschedule, and we can have some homemade lunch with the guys.” 

Sighing heavily, you averted your gaze from his and stared at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna blow this. I think she’s really cool and I’d like to get to know her more. I’m good friends with everyone in our social circle except her. It’s awkward.” 

Jeno’s eyes softened at that. “Y/N, you’re not blowing anything. Rescheduling lunch because you both partied till you collapsed is not going to take away any points. Trust me.” 

Your best friend was right. You were overthinking this, but you didn’t exactly blame yourself. All your efforts to befriend Jimin had been futile till now. You didn’t want to do anything that could mess up the friendship that had begun to bloom last night. 

“Fine,” you finally relented. “Shoot her a text from my phone. I think it’s in my clothes bag—” you paused, your eyes widening. Lifting Jeno’s duvet in panic, you looked down at yourself. “Who changed my clothes?” 

“Ningning did!” Jeno answered quickly, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He couldn’t understand why he was freaking out—nothing happened. 

You exhaled in relief, trying to get rid of the alien tingling feeling spreading throughout your body. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “Okay. Well, my phone’s in my clothes bag.” 

Jeno busied himself, rummaging through your backpack that was on his bedside table. What you didn’t know, however, was that it was just a front for him to calm himself down. “Got it.” He waved the phone at you. “What’s your pin?”

“Your birthday.”

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and a seed of warmth sprouted in his chest. A dizzying sense of affection for you washed over him, drenching him in happiness from head to toe. “Really?” 

You nodded and closed your eyes. Turning on your side to get into a more comfortable sleeping position, you buried yourself deeper under his sheets. Yawning, you mumbled, “Day-Month-Year with leading zeros.” 

“My password is your birthday too,” he said quietly after sending Jimin the text. “A lot of them are. It’s the easiest set of numbers to remember.”

You didn’t respond. Jeno didn’t mind. He knew you’d already fallen asleep. Keeping your phone on the table, he smiled sadly and stared at your resting figure in longing. “Everything about you is so easy to remember.”

Jeno closed the door behind him as he left, none the wiser about the fact that you were still awake and had heard everything he’d said, your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to leap out of your chest. 

Your best friend left, completely unaware of the fact that you were now entertaining the possibility of being in love with him. 

𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 !

01. the green-eyed monster you resent makes an appearance more than you’d like

You genuinely couldn’t believe your friend group and their seemingly never-ending social battery. 

One would think that after a long night of partying, a person would stay at home the next day and take some much-needed rest. Your friends, however, thought it was a good idea to meet up for dinner and decide what to do over the weekend. 

You didn’t bother to remind them of the wonderful invention that was group chats. 

“We should drive up to the beach,” Mark suggested, flipping through the menu. “Summer just started, so I don’t think there will be a lot of people.” 

All of you were seated in a round booth at the back of a diner Chenle said he frequented. You weren’t going to lie; you could see why. The setting was very homey, and the cushioning of the sofa was very cosy—you were almost sure you were going to fall asleep even before your food arrived. 

Ningning, who was sitting beside Mark, peeked over his shoulder to see what was listed. Minjeong said, “That’s stupid. The start of summer is exactly when beaches get overcrowded. Most don’t get to visit the ocean during the year, so they make a beeline for the beach as soon as break begins.”  

“True,” you heard Jeno say. He leaned back in his seat and put his arm on the cushion behind you. You resisted the urge to lean in. Taking a sip of his water, he continued, “Besides, we’re already going to Jeju Island for a week next month. I don’t think we should drive three hours to go to the beach right now.” 

“What about karaoke?” Jimin piped up. She was sitting on the other side of Minjeong, opposite from Chenle, who was on the other side of the table. 

“We don’t need an entire weekend for just karaoke,” Chenle pointed out. “We could do it whenever we want.”

“Well, what about—” 

“Hey, can I take your order?” a female voice that was a combination of annoyed, upbeat, friendly and polite interrupted Minjeong. The girl looked a little flustered at being cut off, but she cleared her throat and mumbled a small yeah, just give us a minute.

The waitress did not move, so all of you awkwardly picked up the menu cards and began flipping through them. 

“The usual for me, Yuna,” Chenle said, smiling up at her. To diffuse the sudden tension created in the air, he began making small talk with her as she waited. 

“What are you eating?” Jeno asked. He was closer to you now, his eyes scanning the contents of the menu card in your hand over your shoulder. 

You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m eating anything. I’m not very hungry.” 

Jeno’s eyebrows creased, and he glanced at your face in worry. “You haven’t had anything since lunch. At least drink something.” 

“It’s fine.” You dismissed him with a wave of your hand and pushed the card in his direction so he could order whatever he wanted. “I won’t be able to finish anything by myself and I don’t wanna waste food.” 

“How about we share?” he insisted. “You eat however much you want, and I’ll finish the rest. Don’t go to sleep on an empty stomach.” 

An internal battle began. While Jeno’s suggestion was sensible, you knew he didn’t like to share his food with anyone. You remembered a time when he had refused to go on a second date with a girl because she kept nibbling on his meal. You didn’t want him to do something he hated just for your sake. 

“Really, it’s fine,” you repeated. “You go ahead and—”

“Hey, Y/N,” Yeji called, making you divert your attention to her. “You wanna share a triple-decker chicken sandwich? Chenle said this place is famous all over town for that dish.” 

You had to admit, a triple-decker chicken sandwich did sound tasty. But you’d just turned down Jeno, so you didn’t wanna say yes to Yeji. Shaking your head, you once again said, “I’m not hungry.”

“Why aren’t you hungry?” Mark frowned, overhearing your conversation. The rest of your friend group looked at you in concern. Ningning asked, “Are you okay?” 

You groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to everyone why you didn’t have an appetite. “I’m okay. I’m just not hungry because I had a lot for lunch.”

“That’s a lie,” Jeno commented unhelpfully, and you smacked his shoulder hard in retaliation. He winced, rubbing the area of attack. “Hey!” 

“Shut up!” you exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, you said to everyone with as little annoyance in your voice as you could, “Please just order what you want. I still feel a little weird after last night’s party, and I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.” Before anyone could reply, you added, “I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.” 

Yeji looked a little stunned, but she got up from her seat and let you leave the booth when you requested her to move. Locking yourself in one of the stalls, you clutched your stomach and curled in on yourself, closing your eyes. 

Your period cramps were especially painful this time. Maybe it was because of last night’s exertion, but your cycle was early too. Your stomach was in too many knots for you to even think about eating anything. 

The washroom’s door opened, and you heard soft footsteps trudging towards you. Knocking on the only occupied stall’s door, a female voice asked, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” 

“Yeah,” you croaked, feeling tears burning your eyes. “Everything’s fine, Jimin. I just have period cramps, that’s all.” 

“Oh.” There was silence for a moment. “I have painkillers. Do you want them?” 

Exhaling through your mouth, you wiped your moist cheeks and stepped out of the stall. “Sure.”

Jimin smiled at you reassuringly and handed you a wet wipe, looping her arm through yours. “Don’t worry. I got you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness and gratitude. You’d wanted to connect with her for so long, and it finally felt like you were getting somewhere this time. Maybe you were being overemotional due to your fluctuating hormones, but you wanted to pull her into a hug.

“Oh, also,” you started a little sheepishly, “I wanted to apologise in person about cancelling on you earlier today. I drank and partied more than I should have. I thought about sending Jeno to cover for me, but he pointed out that it would have been awkward for you to see him when you were expecting me.”

“Woah, wait!” she gaped and took a step away from you. The shock on her face surprised you for a moment, but the feeling didn’t last long. “You’re kidding me! You should have kept insisting, Y/N! A lunch date would have been the perfect way for us to get closer!”

“I don’t think he would have considered the lunch a date because he was just a stand-in for me,” you said awkwardly, and threw the used wipe in the dustbin. 

Jimin waved you away as you walked out of the restroom and back to your booth. “I mean, yeah, it wouldn’t have been an official date, but it would have given me the opportunity to ask him out on a real one.”

“Right.”  

You hated the way you sounded. You hated the way your stomach churned, and your mood dropped. You hated that someone was pursuing Jeno. You hated that you were being forced to play Cupid, all thanks to your strong refusal to admit your feelings and the friendship you wanted to build with the girl next to you. 

“Oh, my God!” Jimin exclaimed, too immersed in her own fantasies to have noticed the change in your tone and demeanour. “I can make up for the missed opportunity by sitting next to him right now! You wouldn’t mind, would you?” 

You did mind. The idea of her making a move on your best friend made you want to dig a hole and cry. God, you were being so pathetic. This was completely unlike you, and you despised the way you were acting. You had to pull yourself together immediately. 

Besides, it wasn’t like you were ever going to explore these newfound feelings you had for Jeno. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your friendship. Forcing an encouraging smile on your face, you said, “Um, sure! That’s a really good idea.”

“Took you guys long enough,” Chenle commented once you returned. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you have any other places to be?” 

“I mean I was worried.” He rolled his eyes. “We ordered food while you were gone. You sure you don’t want anything, Y/N?” 

“Yep,” you said, popping the last letter. “Scoot over and make space for us.” 

Yeji got up again and stood to the side as Jimin, and you slid into the booth. “The two of you better not make me get up again. I’m not budging even if you need to take a big dump.” 

“Sorry,” you muttered, smiling at her sheepishly. Making yourself comfortable, you grabbed your glass of water and dipped a straw in it, idly sipping the liquid. 

Jeno’s gaze caught yours from behind Jimin’s back. He pointed at her with a frown on his face and mouthed, “Why is she sitting beside me?” 

You waved him away and turned your attention to the rest of your friends. “Please tell me you guys finally decided what we’re doing over the weekend.”

“We did,” Mark piped up. “We’re thinking of going to an amusement park and then a water park.”

Jimin frowned. “Won’t those places be crowded as well?” 

“We just need to accept that most destinations will be. Everyone’s on break, so it doesn’t matter where we go. There will be people everywhere.” 

You agreed with Minjeong. “Amusement park it is. Can we hit the bars at night?”

“It won’t be much of a trip if we don’t.” Ningning grinned. “You sure you want to go clubbing so soon though? You were completely wasted when Jeno called me to his room and made me change your clothes last night.”

Mark snickered. “Are you scared of changing your own girlfriend’s clothes, Jeno?”  

Silence. No one spoke. 

NingNing was staring at Mark incredulously, and Yeji seemed to be suffering through an extreme case of second-hand embarrassment. Chenle pretended to flip through the menu while Minjeong grabbed her phone and scrolled through the apps on her home screen in an attempt to look busy. 

Jimin whirled to face you so fast that you wondered how her neck hadn’t snapped. You couldn’t even dare to look at Jeno to see what reaction Mark’s words had evoked out of him. 

Laughing awkwardly, you asked, “Who said we’re dating?” 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Mark scoffed in disbelief. “You guys are so bad at keeping your relationship private. Everyone knows there’s something going on between the two of you.” 

“Is that true?” Jeno asked, but no one present at the table dared to meet his gaze. “Do all of you think there’s something going on between Y/N and me?” 

“I mean….” Chenle began, dragging the word out. “You both are very close. People who claim to be just friends don’t cross the boundaries you two step all over everyday. But we’ve never seen you kiss either, so we’re not sure if you’re dating secretly or…” 

“You guys are crazy,” you interrupted. “Stop speculating about our relationship. It’s weird.” Turning to face a very betrayed-looking Jimin, you enunciated, “Jeno and I are just friends. That’s all there is to us.”

“Yeah,” Jeno added, glancing at you. “Y/N and I will only ever be friends. There’s no way I would date her. I don’t find her attractive in a romantic way.” 

Feeling a knot form in your heart and anger bubble in the pit of your stomach, you snapped, “Same. Jeno’s not even my type. I wouldn’t get together with him if we were the only people left on Earth.” 

Your friends exchanged knowing glances, and poor Jimin, who was stuck sitting between Jeno and you, made an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Okay, guys. We get it.” 

“I’m not sure you do,” Jeno hissed, staring all your friends down. “I can see your damn faces. The only way you’re going to believe I’m not into Y/N is if I prove it to you by going out with someone else.” 

Minjeong began, “That’s not—” 

“No, he’s right,” you fumed. Under the table, your hand curled into a fist. “The only way you guys are going to get this stupid image of Jeno and me being together romantically is if we date other people.” 

“The two of you are overreacting!” Yeji exclaimed. “There’s no need to get so defensive! We were wrong for assuming, and Mark was an idiot for opening his fat mouth. I’m sure you both would have told us if there was something. We’re all sorry.” 

There was a chorus of agreement on the table. Everyone genuinely seemed to be apologetic—except Mark, who was glaring at Yeji and looked mad for being called an idiot. His eyes met yours, and a sheepish smile took form on his lips. 

You huffed a small laugh and shook your head, but your heart was still in knots. There was a certain hollowness in the pit of your stomach. You felt sick and anxious. 

Did Jeno really have to say all those hurtful things just to convince your friends about your platonic relationship? He didn’t need to sound so offended and make your mutual denial a competition. 

Sure, you were the one who had declared there would never be anything more than just friendship between Jeno and you, but he didn’t have to cross the line by saying you weren’t appealing to him. 

Besides, you’d said what you’d said for Jimin. You didn’t actually mean the words that left your mouth. Considering the emotions you’d been feeling recently, it would be a lie to claim you didn’t hope for a different sort of future with Jeno. 

It didn’t matter anyway. A romantic relationship between the two of you wasn’t practical. Your best friend had never so much as hinted at wanting something more. 

In a twisted way, you were glad he said those wounding things. You needed to be pulled back to reality.

“Hey, Jeno,” you heard Jimin say once the food arrived and everyone started eating. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch and watch a movie sometime this week?” 

Bile rose to your throat. You hoped to God he would say no. You didn’t care if you were being a shitty person; you didn’t think you could take any more of this torture. 

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Your eyes were trained on your glass of water, but you didn’t need to look at him to know he was surprised. As much as you hated eavesdroppers, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to learn where this conversation was going. 

“I am.” Jimin chuckled nervously.

Jeno didn’t reply immediately. The rest of your friends were engaged in their own discussions with the people sitting next to them. The table wasn’t silent by any means, but the only things you could hear were Jimin waiting for his answer with bated breath and the pounding of your heart in your chest. 

Then, “I would be honoured.”

Oh, you were most definitely going to throw up.

02. you fall for them

You hadn’t talked to Jeno ever since dinner with your group.

He hadn’t reached out to you, and you hadn’t tried to contact him either. You’d received a text from Jimin the next day about the specifics of her date with Jeno. They were supposed to meet up for lunch at a restaurant near your college campus and then go out to watch some sappy rom-com. 

He didn’t even care for rom-coms. You’d begged him to watch one with you countless times and he’d always turned you down. Part of you wondered if he knew Jimin was updating you about everything and he was purposely pulling this shit to get back at you. 

But you dismissed the notion immediately. No way were you so dense and self-centred. Maybe Jeno genuinely was into Jimin. 

Your phone began ringing, and you rolled over on your bed, blindly searching for it on your bedside table. God, you hated being woken up in the middle of your afternoon naps. It almost always guaranteed a headache. 

“Hello,” you said groggily, your throat raw and dry. “Who is this?” 

“Oh! Did I wake you up?” It was Jimin. She sounded upbeat. Your heart sank. “I’m so sorry!” 

Pushing yourself up, you rubbed the gunk out of your eyes and made your way to the window. The darkness made you bump into the corner of your study table, and you bit down on your lip to keep a yelp from escaping. Hobbling, you threw the curtains open and said, “No worries. My alarm was just about to ring. How was the date?” 

Laughter bubbled from the other end of the phone line. “It was cool! He is a really good guy. No wonder everyone is head over heels for him. He opened the door for me, didn’t let me spend any money even though I asked him out, was an excellent listener, called me pretty and beautiful, and drove me back home. Oh, God, and the eye-contact? It made him a hundred times sexier.” 

Seems legit, you thought to yourself. Jeno had always been a gentleman. The other girls you’d set him up with had pretty much given you the same feedback. Part of you felt relieved that this date hadn’t been any different than the others he’d been on. 

Except the rom-com part, of course. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why he would agree to something he hated. 

“Ah, I’m happy for you, Jimin!” you exclaimed, trying your best to mean what you said. Your own words tasted like ash on your tongue. “Are you guys going on a second date?” 

“I’m not sure, to be honest. He said he had a great time with me, but when I tried to ask him out again, he just hugged me. That took me by surprise, and I kinda just forgot.” She laughed. “I know good dates usually end with a kiss, but the fact that he didn’t go for one didn’t bother me.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. Sitting on the ledge of your window, you asked, “That sounds nice. Do you think you’ll try asking him again?”

The last thing you expected her to say was no. And the way she said it… she didn’t sound sad or upset or disappointed. She sounded like herself. She sounded the way one would when they talked about the weather. 

It confused you. Didn’t Jimin just say the date was really good? She sounded so happy and delighted. Why was she backing out now?

“I—I don’t get it,” you sputtered. “I thought you were into him. I thought you had a great time today. Why aren’t you going to ask him out again? Did something else happen—?”

“Calm down.” She chuckled. “Nothing happened.” 

“Huh? Then what’s the problem?”

“Nothing happened,” she repeated. “That’s the problem. I like Jeno. He’s attractive, funny and caring. He’s everything a girl would want in a guy. But there was no spark between us. I had a great time with him, but hanging out today didn’t feel any different than usual. It felt like I was hanging out with a good friend, not with a potential romantic interest.

“I was looking forward to exploring what I felt for him. Turns out, it was just physical attraction. It also turns out that he wasn’t into me at all. If it wasn’t obvious the night we all went out for dinner, it was glaringly clear today. I think part of the reason he said yes was that he didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” she added. “The other—major—part was that he’s in love with someone else, and I would rather die than be a homewrecker.”    

“Oh,” you said again. You didn’t know how to respond to that. What did she mean Jeno is in love with someone else? You didn’t dare focus on the last part of what she’d said. You didn’t dare hope that the person she was referring to was you. “Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out between the two of you. I’m sure you’ll find someone else easily. You’re a delight. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”

Jimin laughed again. “If you weren’t in love with Jeno too, Y/N, I would have thought you were into me.” 

It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Forcing yourself to laugh, you croaked, “Whatever do you mean?” 

Saying that was a mistake. You should not have asked her to elaborate. She was going to make you come to terms with your feelings, and all the time and effort you’d spent denying and trying to get rid of them was going to go down the drain. 

Before she could speak, you made a static sound with your mouth. Then, you pretended that the connection was really bad. “Wha—hear—you. Try—back. Hell—?” 

You hung up before Jimin could call you out on your bullshit. A moment later, you saw a text pop up. 

[jimin]: that was soooo unsubtle  [y/n]: idk what ur talking ab!!!!!!! [jimin]: sure [jimin]: also a tiny heads up [jimin]: i told jeno to stop being a pussy and an asshole so he’s on his way 2 ur place now [y/n]: WHAT THE FUCK [jimin]: i’m going 2 pretend u said thank u [jimin]: don’t forget ab our dinner date tmrw [jimin]: have fun <3 

It was crazy how the bell rang almost immediately after you read the last text. You wondered if the timing was planned and that Jimin had told Jeno to wait till she gave him the go-ahead. 

You trudged to the front door and took a deep breath before opening it.

“Hey,” Jeno mumbled with a small smile. His hair was ruffled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. “Can I come in?” 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded and moved out of the way to make space for him to step inside. He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and stood awkwardly. 

“You can sit,” you said, feeling the corners of your lips curl up in amusement. 

He sighed and wove his fingers through his strands again. “Not before I apologise for my behaviour. I was completely out of line that day,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.” 

“So you don’t think I’m unattractive?” 

You meant to tease him, but the next thing you knew, he was standing toe-to-toe with you, a desperate and guilt-ridden expression adorning his face. “God, no. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I only said that because… because I knew it would hurt you.” 

Jeno was standing too close to you. You could barely breathe, much less think. But that didn’t stop you from asking, “Why would you want to hurt me?” 

He didn’t answer for what felt like an entire minute. He only kept staring at you, an internal battle raging inside him. Then, he let loose a breath of frustration and moved away. He refused to look at you, and your patience kept slipping with each moment that passed. 

Right when you thought it would snap, Jeno spoke up, “It hurt me when you said you and I would only ever be friends. I know how stupid it sounds, but it really did. For years, I’d been pining after you and hoping that maybe we could be something more in the future. I felt like an idiot when I realised wouldn’t ever view me in that light. 

“You got so defensive when Chenle said all our friends were suspicious of us being in a secret relationship. I couldn’t help but wonder if you felt disgusted at the idea of us being together. I got angry at myself for being naive and said those horrible things without even realising.” 

You didn’t know what to say. This was the second time you’d been rendered speechless in the past thirty minutes. It was one revelation after the other; you were having a hard time keeping up.

“You—you like me?” you stuttered. 

Jeno laughed humourlessly and looked you dead in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

You took a step back. “No, no, no, no—”

“Yes,” he pressed. “I’m sorry that I do. I know this changes everything, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I just—”

“Why would you go out with Jimin if you… if you love me?” you whispered. 

“Partly to see your reaction and partly in an attempt to get over you,” he admitted. “It didn’t work. I just—I just couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time I was with her. I felt so guilty for saying such terrible things because I couldn’t deal with my emotions and come to terms with reality. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry too.”

“You don’t have to apologise for not loving me back—”

“That’s not what I’m apologising for,” you interrupted and walked towards him until your abdomens were touching. “I’m apologising for not seeing it sooner. I’m apologising for encouraging Jimin to ask you out even though it killed me. I’m apologising for denying my feelings time and time again. I’m apologising for saying we would only ever be friends. The last thing I want is for our relationship to be platonic.” 

Jeno was barely breathing. “What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying I love you too, Lee Jeno,” you mumbled and stood on your toes, cupping cheeks with your palms. “I’m saying I want you to kiss me.” 

The words didn’t register immediately, but his lips were on yours the moment they did. 

Jeno’s arm snaked around your waist, and he pulled you closer. His hand grabbed your neck from behind, and he tilted his neck to the side, deepening the kiss. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. All you could feel was him. Your nerve-endings were short-circuiting, and pure adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You didn’t think you’d ever been as satisfied and euphoric as you were right now.

Jeno’s lips slotted with yours perfectly. You smiled to yourself upon realising he tasted like chocolates. Your best friend always ate a piece before any event he deemed to be very important. He claimed they gave him good luck. 

Letting go of one of his cheeks, you grabbed the round collar of his shirt and pressed your mouth harder against his. The nights you’d spent wondering how kissing him would feel and then hating yourself immediately for having such thoughts amounted to this. 

You didn’t want to hold back. 

But you had to ask him a question. It didn’t matter how stupid or ridiculous it was; you wanted to know the answer. So, you broke the kiss and inquired with your body still tangled with his, “Why the hell did you agree to watch a rom-com with Jimin?” 

“Really?” he asked exasperatedly. “You wanna talk about Jimin while we’re making out?” 

“I wanna know why you watched a rom-com with her when I’ve been begging you to watch one with me for so long,” you corrected. 

Jeno was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to tell you. You raised an eyebrow. “Well,” he started, blowing out a breath. “She told me you set her up with me, and it pissed me off even more. I knew she’d tell you all about our date, so I suggested we watch a rom-com. I knew you’d be riled up once you realised.” 

You snorted. Who knew? You weren’t actually being a self-centred narcissist when you suspected the same. “You’re an idiot. I was already riled up you were going out with her.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he teased. “Why’d you encourage her in the first place then?”

“Honestly, at first, I thought I could use you to further my friendship with her,” you admitted. Jeno scoffed in disbelief. “Yeah, I know. That was kinda shitty of me. But when I realised I was falling for you, I pushed her to pursue you in an attempt to convince myself I was not into you. That obviously backfired and did the very opposite. I was horribly miserable. I wanted to shoot myself everytime I heard her gush about you.” 

He smirked. “She gushed about me?” 

“Oh, get over yourself.” You shoved his shoulder playfully. “How’d you end up here after your date? Jimin texted me that you were coming.”

“Tough, but I’ll try.” He laughed. “She was probably able to tell how disinterested I was. After the date when I dropped her home and hugged her instead of kissing her, she just confronted me and asked if I was in love with you. Then told me to not bother answering because it was obvious. She said she didn’t want to get in the middle of us and threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t come here to make amends immediately.” 

You grinned. “Oh, the things I would have done to witness that scene.” 

“It was scary.” Jeno frowned. “She hit my shoulder really hard when I said I was in love with you and called me an idiot for going out with her. I think she was angry at herself too for being oblivious to our situationship. It was one of the weirdest dates I’ve ever been on.” 

“Jimin actually said she had a great time with you. She told me it was nice.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised. 

You placed a chaste kiss on Jeno’s mouth. “Hmm, I wonder how good the best date you’ve ever been on would be then.” 

He chased your lips and kissed you back deeply. Caressing your cheekbone with stars twinkling in his eyes, Jeno said, “I guess we’ll know when I take you out.”

“No way, are you officially asking me out on a date, Lee Jeno?” you asked, and let out a fake gasp. 

“Damn right I am,” he declared. “I don’t want the amusement park trip with our friends to be our first day out as a couple. Do you wanna grab some food tomorrow afternoon? We can go to the trampoline park before that.” 

You smiled softly. “That sounds wonderful. But,” you added. “No more flirting with restaurant staff for free food, or I’ll go ballistic on you.” 

Jeno laughed, and you thought it was the most beuatiful sound you had ever heard. His chest rumbled with the force of it, his eyes creasing to look like small crescent moons. Slipping his hand into yours, he squeezed once. 

“Wouldn’t even dream of it.” 

note: THANK U FOR READING TILL THE END WHAT ??? loads of hugs and kisses :’)) also i know i said this before but posting after a rlly long time has lowkey made me anxious LOLL i think i could have done better with the fic esp the end bc it’s a little rushed. honestly speaking i am ready to move on to my next wip and i don’t wanna spend more time rewriting this one :(( i still love this piece though and i would definitely love to hear your thoughts amigos!! stay healthy and hydrated <33

thank you to mira for coming in clutch and helping me out with the plot when i was stuck + giving me her honest opinion! thank you to dori too for reading parts of this fic and giving me her opinion as well! i love you both :D

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[eu-nicola]

arranged marriage part 1

sinopsis: After the death of his girlfriend in an accident, Rafe falls into a severe depression. His family offers him a family friend, Arabella, with whom he has always had a bad relationship, to marry him for the good of the family.

warnings: death, arranged marriage, etc

author's note: english is not my first language and this story is very long and it is only the first part

word count: 8647

some labels are not correct

Arabella had always lived a quiet life on the Outer Banks. Her family was very close to the Camerons, and family reunions were a tradition. Since they were little, she and Sarah Cameron had become inseparable. They spent summers together, swimming, exploring the small islands around the coast, or just talking. However, Arabella's relationship with the other brother, Rafe, had always been different.

Rafe Cameron was everything Arabella hated: arrogant, conceited, and with an ego that barely fit in the room. Every time they met at a family reunion or event, their exchanges were cold and tense. They didn't openly insult each other, of course, but the looks and sarcastic comments were constant. The truth is that Rafe also saw her the same way: he thought Arabella was a haughty girl who thought the world revolved around her. Despite everything, they both knew how to behave in front of others. It was a tacit agreement, a sort of silent truce to not cause problems in their families.

Parallel to their tensions, both their lives had continued on their course. Arabella had been dating a boy from the Outer Banks, Matthew, for a year. Matthew was the complete opposite of Rafe: charming, humble, and always ready to make her laugh. He was easy to be with, and their relationship gave her the peace of mind she had always sought. For his part, Rafe had met a young woman a few years ago and, in an unexpected turn, was preparing to marry her. The wedding was the most talked about event on the island. Everyone seemed to be excited, from close families to childhood friends.

Arabella, in particular, couldn't help but joke about it with Sarah. Every time the topic of the wedding came up, she and Sarah used to laugh and say that, once Rafe got married, they could get rid of him once and for all. "Can you imagine?" Sarah said with a laugh, "we'll finally not have to put up with his 'I'm better than all of you' attitude." Arabella smirked, knowing that even though they were joking, a part of her actually believed it would be a relief to not have to deal with Rafe on a regular basis anymore. With the wedding approaching, he'd be busy with his new life, and she could enjoy her days in peace.

One afternoon, while helping Sarah pick out a dress for her brother's wedding, Arabella and Sarah sat on the store's couch, surrounded by fabrics and catalogs. Sarah showed her one of the dresses, and Arabella looked at it, nodding in approval. "It's beautiful, Sarah. You're going to be the prettiest bridesmaid I've ever seen."

"And you? Do you know what you're going to wear yet?" Sarah asked curiously, glancing at her friend out of the corner of her eye.

Arabella let out a soft laugh, crossing her legs as she settled into the couch. "I haven't decided yet, but honestly, I don't care that much. The important thing is that you'll look spectacular and that your brother is finally getting married."

Sarah smiled. "Can you imagine what it'll be like? It'll be weird not having him hanging around the house."

Arabella laughed, nodding again. "Exactly. It's like he always has to remind us that he's Rafe Cameron, as if we could ever forget." She paused, leaning forward. “Speaking of which, how is everything going with him and his fiancée? Do they have everything ready yet?”

Sarah sighed. “Mostly everything. I won’t lie to you, though, there have been tense moments. You know how my brother is. Everything has to be perfect for him, and his fiancée seems to be the same way. It’s like two perfectionists have met, which should be a good thing, but… sometimes I think they’re going crazy with the details.”

Arabella nodded, imagining Rafe being picky about every little aspect of the wedding. “I can see that. He’s probably checking every flower, every napkin, to make sure everything is up to par.”

“Exactly,” Sarah said, laughing. “But, well, it’ll be a wedding everyone will remember, for better or worse.”

The days leading up to the wedding were complete chaos. Arabella had anticipated it, but nothing could prepare her for the magnitude of the storm that was brewing. Between last-minute meetings, planning details, and the endless list of tasks Sarah had set out to complete, they were both swept up in a maelstrom of stress. Rafe, of course, was at the center of it all, making sure every aspect of the ceremony and reception was flawless. It was nearly impossible to see him without a worried or annoyed expression on his face, which, to Arabella, was a normal occurrence for him.

Despite everything, Arabella tried to stay out of the way. She reminded herself that this wasn't her wedding, and that no matter how much everything got out of hand, the best thing she could do was stay calm, help Sarah when necessary, and avoid Rafe as much as possible. But things didn't always go as planned. During the days leading up to it, she was forced to cross paths with Rafe more times than she would have liked. Every time she saw him, he was arguing with someone: an organizer, a caterer, or even his own sister.

The wedding day finally arrived, bringing with it a mix of emotions. The Cameron household was bustling early, with servants and family members running back and forth to make sure everything was ready. Arabella had slept there the night before, as part of tradition. Sarah had convinced her that it would be easier to get ready together from the Cameron household. They had both thought they would get ready with the bride, as was customary for close friends and family of the couple. However, that expectation was quickly dashed.

At the last minute, Rafe's fiancée had decided that she preferred to get ready elsewhere, alongside her mother and some members of her family. Not only that, but neither Arabella nor Sarah had been invited to join them. It was a clear sign of distancing, and although Sarah tried to hide her irritation, Arabella noticed how she clenched her jaw at the news.

Arabella, for her part, considered it disrespectful. Wasn't Sarah Rafe's sister? And hadn't she, Arabella, been by Sarah's side all these years, sharing every important moment in the Camerons' lives? She tried to ignore the small flicker of anger that was beginning to form inside her. There was no point in making a scene over something so trivial. Besides, she had Sarah, and the two of them could turn any awkward situation into something fun. If the bride didn't want them there, then they would enjoy getting ready on their own.

“Can you believe it?” Sarah said, slamming the bedroom door shut as they entered. “He didn’t even tell me directly, can you imagine?”

Arabella, sitting on the edge of the bed, shrugged. “Truth be told, I was expecting it. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who wants to share his day with us. At the end of the day, it’s his wedding, and he can do whatever he wants.”

Sarah let out a sarcastic laugh as she sat down in front of the mirror. “Yeah, sure. But I’m his future sister-in-law. And you’re my best friend. I don’t know, he just seems… cold.”

“Well, better for us,” Arabella said, getting up to find her dress. “At least we won’t have to pretend to like his every comment and smile all the time. We’ll get ready together, like always.”

Sarah let out a sigh and looked at herself in the mirror. "You're right. But it still bothers me. Anyway, let her get ready by herself. Today's all about my brother getting married and I honestly want this all to be over with."

Arabella laughed softly, patting him on the shoulder before starting to change. The sun's rays streamed through the curtains, illuminating the room in a warm, golden light. Although they were annoyed by the bride's lack of consideration, there was something almost magical about those moments.

As they both got ready, the silence was filled with soft murmurs and occasional laughter. Sarah tried to comb her hair while talking non-stop about how chaotic everything had been, and Arabella, who had already finished getting dressed, helped her with some details. It seemed like the small frustrations of the day were being left behind.

As Arabella and Sarah got ready in the bedroom, chaos quickly took over the house. The screams and constant movement of people running through the halls soon interrupted the calm that had prevailed only a few minutes before. Arabella, who was finishing adjusting her dress in front of the mirror, frowned as she noticed the growing sense of anxiety that was beginning to fill the air.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, glancing out the window and then back to the door. The door to her room opened and closed frequently, but no one stopped to give them an explanation. Servants walked back and forth with tense faces, exchanging hurried whispers. The two friends began to grow restless.

Arabella stood up, smoothing out the folds of her dress as she walked to the door. “I’ll ask. This is already too weird.” Sarah nodded, following closely behind. They both stepped out into the hallway, hoping to find someone who could tell them what was going on. But every time they tried to stop someone, the employees avoided their gaze, mumbled apologies, and walked on, as if they were under strict orders not to say anything.

Nerves began to set in at Arabella’s stomach. The laughter and conversation that should be filling the house on a wedding day had turned into tense whispers and palpable nervousness. They tried to approach various people, but the answers were always vague, almost as if no one knew what to say or how to handle the situation.

Sarah, for her part, was starting to lose patience. “Is someone going to tell us what’s going on?!” she exclaimed, glaring at one of the servants who hurried past without stopping.

Their frustration grew by the second. Finally, they decided to try something more daring: approach Rafe’s room. They knew he must be getting ready there, and although they didn’t feel like facing him in the middle of a possible disaster, they couldn’t stand to be in the dark any longer.

The atmosphere around Rafe’s room was even stranger. The door was closed, but people passing by avoided looking at it as if they feared what was happening inside. Arabella and Sarah stopped in front of it, exchanging glances. Sarah, frowning, took a step towards the door, but before she could knock, a muffled scream came from someone behind them.

“No! Don’t go in there,” one of the women working in the house said, quickly approaching with a look of pure panic on her face.

Arabella crossed her arms, facing the woman with a mix of confusion and impatience. “What’s going on? No one’s telling us anything.”

The woman hesitated, nervously glancing at Rafe’s bedroom door before looking down. She seemed to be torn between what she should do and what she was supposed to keep secret.

“It’s… it’s the bride,” she finally murmured, her voice shaking. “She… she had an accident. On the way to church.”

Arabella’s world stopped for a second. Her brain was slow to process what she had just heard. Beside her, Sarah let out a soft gasp, her face paling.

“An accident?” Arabella repeated, trying to understand. “Is… is she okay?”

The woman looked down even further, unable to hold her eyes. “No… he didn’t survive,” she whispered.

The silence that followed was deafening. Arabella felt the room around her seem to fade away, her mind caught up in the brutality of that simple sentence. Rafe’s girlfriend, the woman he was set to marry in a matter of hours, was dead. There was no softening that reality. Arabella slowly turned her head to Sarah, who had stood frozen, her eyes filled with shock and horror.

“What…?” Sarah stammered, bringing a shaking hand to her mouth. “How… how did it happen?”

The woman, clearly uncomfortable and distraught, tried to explain. “It… it was a car accident. The car he was in lost control. He died instantly, we were told.”

Rafe’s life, as arrogant as he was, had just changed forever.

Before they could fully process what they had just heard, the silence of the hallway was suddenly broken by a crash coming from Rafe’s room. Both friends turned sharply toward the door, their hearts pounding.

The noise continued: something heavy had fallen, followed by a thud, and then more sounds of things breaking. It seemed like everything inside the room was falling apart. Arabella and Sarah exchanged a panicked glance, and in that instant they knew Rafe had heard.

"No," Sarah whispered, bringing a hand to her chest as she took a step toward the door, as if she wanted to enter.

Arabella grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Don't go in," she said quietly. She knew the last thing Rafe needed right now was for someone to see him in the midst of his pain.

The noises inside the room continued: more glass breaking, furniture being dragged or overturned, and the occasional muffled scream that could barely be heard. It was as if everything Rafe had held in for days, weeks, or maybe even years was finally coming out in the worst possible way. Arabella could imagine him throwing objects at the walls, taking out his fury, his pain, and his helplessness on anything that could be broken.

Arabella nodded slowly. She knew that the day they had joked about “getting rid of Rafe” once she was married seemed far away now. All that was left was unimaginable tragedy.

The day of the funeral arrived with a heavy, oppressive air enveloping the Cameron household like a suffocating blanket. From the moment the news of Rafe's fiancée's death had hit their lives, the atmosphere in the house had changed. Everyone, from the servants to the family members themselves, walked with a caution that had not been seen before. Arabella had hoped that the funeral would be the moment when, finally, everyone could begin to process what had happened. However, that day only brought more bewilderment.

At breakfast, Ward Cameron had summoned the entire family into the dining room. It was a strange scene: the sun shone softly through the windows, illuminating the table covered with plates of food that no one had any intention of touching. Arabella sat next to Sarah, both silent, waiting for Ward's words, who remained standing at the end of the table, a stern expression on his face.

When he finally spoke, his tone was cold and authoritative. “No one from this family will be attending the funeral,” he announced, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

Arabella blinked, shocked by what she had just heard. She glanced sideways at Sarah, expecting her friend to protest, but she was motionless, her gaze fixed on her plate, her hands clenched in her lap. There were no murmurs of disagreement, no attempts to debate the decision. The silence was absolute.

Ward continued, as if he had not expected anyone to question him. “It is a tragedy what has happened, but it is not wise for us to be there. The family of… the deceased,” he said, pausing before mentioning Rafe’s fiancée, as if he could not bear to say her name, “can handle the funeral. We need not involve ourselves further in this matter.”

Arabella felt a wave of disbelief run through her body. How could she say such a thing? Her son’s fiancée had died tragically, and now they intended to simply ignore the funeral. It was inhuman. Yet the coldness with which Ward spoke made it clear that he was not willing to argue. To him, this was a matter of convenience, of avoiding further unwanted attention.

“This includes Arabella,” Ward added, giving her a brief but firm look. “You are part of our family and on this occasion, it is best that you follow our decision.”

Arabella felt a pang in her chest, but said nothing. This was not the time to challenge Ward’s authority, not when everyone was so tense.

Sarah, who had remained silent until this moment, finally spoke, though her voice was barely a whisper. “And Rafe?” she asked, her eyes lowered, as if she could not bear the answer.

Ward set his jaw. “Rafe won’t be attending. He’s not fit.” The way he said it made it clear that Rafe’s “condition” wasn’t something he was proud of.

Arabella knew what that meant. From the moment he’d learned of his fiancée’s death, Rafe had disappeared into a self-destructive cycle. Empty bottles piled up in his room, and servants whispered that they’d seen him with bloodshot eyes, walking the halls like a ghost. He was doing everything he could to avoid the pain, drowning himself in drink and other things to escape reality. He hadn’t bothered to see anyone or face what had happened. The funeral, of course, wasn’t an option for him. Not when his only concern was evading everything that made him feel vulnerable.

The weeks following the funeral were like a minefield in the lives of everyone around Rafe. There was no talk of the accident, or of Rafe’s fiancée. It was as if his name had been erased from everyone's memory. However, the absence of words did not mean that the pain had disappeared.

Arabella watched everything with a mixture of uneasiness and curiosity. She had grown accustomed to the rhythms of the Cameron family, to their coldness and the way they solved their problems without ever talking about them, but this time, the pressure was different. Something in the air indicated that, although Rafe had begun to get his life back on track, something had broken inside him that would never be the same again.

At first, Rafe had disappeared completely. He did not come down to meals, he was not seen at family gatherings, and the few times Arabella saw him around the house, he would stare blankly, walking like a shadow of the arrogant man she knew. But little by little, that changed. The nights when he would lock himself in his room with bottles of whiskey began to diminish, and, slowly, he began to appear again at social gatherings, resuming his place as the Prince Kook of always.

The first few days Rafe went out with his friends again, Arabella felt a kind of relief. She would watch him walk around the house with that same confidence that had always characterized him, his face unwavering as if nothing could disturb him. It was almost as if the tragedy had never happened. On the surface, Rafe was the same: the Camerons' golden son, the man who could have it all. He was seen with his old friends at clubs, sailing along the coast in his boat, and organizing parties that brought the hustle and bustle back to the quiet Outer Banks neighborhood.

But everyone knew that something in him had changed.

Sarah, who used to be the first to joke about her brother, now kept quiet when he was around. Sometimes, when Rafe walked past her and Arabella with his confident smile and sarcastic remarks, Sarah would just glance at him out of the corner of her eye, as if she expected the old Rafe, the one who laughed carefree at everything, to return at any moment. However, the silence that followed his words was almost unbearable, as if everyone knew that behind that mask of confidence there was something broken that had not yet healed.

One night, while Arabella and Sarah were in the living room of the Cameron house, Rafe walked in, fresh from one of his outings with the boys. His white shirt was open at the collar, and he smelled of alcohol and tobacco. However, his posture was as impeccable as ever.

"What, you're not going to say anything? Did you miss me?" Rafe threw the question into the air, with a lopsided smile that didn't reach his eyes. Sarah faked a laugh as Arabella watched him intently, noticing the details no one else saw: the slight tremor in his hands, the dull gleam in his eyes.

"You were quieter the last time I saw you," Arabella commented in a neutral tone, trying to test the waters. She knew that any comment that was too direct could be a bombshell for Rafe in this state.

He let out a short, hollow laugh, shrugging as he took a drink from the nearby cabinet. "Quiet? No, I was just... thinking about other things."

The weeks continued and Rafe was completely back to his usual routine. He began training and spending time with his friends. He seemed to have regained his place as the charismatic leader everyone admired and feared at the same time.

While to many everything seemed to be back to normal, in Ward's mind, the situation couldn't be further from that. The dream of seeing his son married, establishing a life of success and responsibility, was something he wasn't willing to give up, even after the tragedy. He knew that in order to maintain the Camerons' position at the top, Rafe needed to have a suitable wife at his side. The death of his young fiancée had only been a temporary obstacle in that plan.

Ward watched his son with a frown, aware that Rafe had returned to his old life, but without the purpose he believed necessary. Going out every night, surrounding himself with superficial friends, and getting drunk were not behaviors worthy of a Cameron with the responsibilities that corresponded to him. No, Rafe had to leave that life behind, and as soon as possible.

For several weeks, Ward had been looking around, evaluating options. The Camerons' social circle was extensive, but he couldn't just choose any woman. No, whoever married Rafe had to be someone suitable, someone who could not only handle his son's complex personality, but also bring respect and stability with her. But, as much as he searched among the young women of high society, he couldn't help but return to an idea that slowly began to grow in his mind.

Arabella.

He had known her forever, just like his family. She was someone he could trust. A strong, loyal young woman, and above all, someone who was already close to Rafe. Although their relationship had been strained over the years, Ward couldn't ignore that, of all the people in his environment, Arabella was the only one who had always been there, even in the darkest times. Perhaps, Ward thought, she could be the key to getting Rafe out of the abyss he was in, even if he didn't know it yet.

One night, as Ward was going through some paperwork in his office, that idea finally took shape. He closed the folder in front of him and leaned back in his chair, pondering what he had to do. He knew Rafe wouldn't take the suggestion well, not in his current state, but that had never stopped Ward before. It was his duty, as a father, to guide his son, even if Rafe didn't understand it.

Convinced that Arabella would be the ideal wife for Rafe, Ward decided to act. The next morning, he called Rose into his office and explained his plan. Rose, though initially surprised, didn't argue. She knew how her husband's mind worked and had learned not to question his decisions, especially when it came to Rafe.

"What about Arabella?" Rose asked, one eyebrow raised. "Don't you think she should have some say in the matter?"

Ward let out a dry laugh. "Arabella is a smart girl. She knows what's best for her family. And this is best for everyone."

Rose didn't answer, but a hint of doubt crossed her face. However, she left the subject up to her husband.

It was a few days before Ward decided to bring up the idea with Rafe. It wasn't an easy subject to broach, and his son was still dealing with the weight of loss, though he tried to disguise it behind his cocky smiles and carefree demeanor. He knew he would have to pick the right time.

The day came on a quiet afternoon. Rafe was in his father's office, going through some paperwork related to the family business, when Ward seized the opportunity. He looked at him from his desk, analyzing his expression, searching for a sign of an opening.

"Son," Ward began in his usual authoritative tone, "it's time for you to think about the future."

Rafe didn't look up from the papers. "What do you mean?" His voice was casual, but Ward noticed the tension in his shoulders.

"You know what I mean. We've talked about it before. You need stability. It's time for you to get married."

Rafe set the papers down on the table, his cold, disinterested eyes meeting his father's. "I thought that subject was closed. You know what happened."

Ward didn't flinch. "What happened was tragic, but it doesn't change the fact that you need a wife. Someone to help you build your life, settle down."

Rafe let out a bitter laugh, leaning back in his chair. “And who am I supposed to find now? Another girl who is willing to put up with me? I don’t think so.”

“I’ve already thought about that,” Ward said firmly, ignoring his son’s sarcastic tone. “And I think the answer has been in front of us all along.”

Rafe frowned, visibly irritated. “What are you talking about?”

“Arabella,” Ward said finally, dropping the bombshell.

Rafe fell silent, his face turning from confusion to disbelief. “Arabella? Are you kidding? Why her?”

Ward kept his gaze fixed on his son, his voice calm but full of authority. “Because she is a good young woman. She is trustworthy, we have known her forever, and she would be a good wife for you. It is not an absurd proposition, Rafe. It makes sense.”

Rafe stood up from his chair, his movements abrupt, visibly angry. "No, there's no point. I haven't even thought about getting married again, let alone to Arabella. I'm not going to."

"You will if it's what's best for the family," Ward replied coldly. "And this is what's best for you too, even if you don't see it now."

Rafe glared at him with fury in his eyes, but he knew arguing with his father was pointless. Ward always got what he wanted, one way or another. But this time, Rafe wasn't going to give in so easily.

Without another word, he walked out of the office, leaving Ward alone, pondering what had just happened. He knew his son wouldn't accept him right away, but he didn't need him to. As always, Ward had a plan. And sooner or later, Rafe would understand that Arabella was the right choice.

However, Arabella had no idea what was to come.

Arabella was in the living room with Sarah, laughing at one of the Kooks' absurd stories when Ward suddenly appeared in the doorway. His face was serious in a way that didn't go unnoticed by either of them, and Arabella felt the air grow heavy. Sarah, who knew that expression on her father all too well, fell silent.

"Arabella, can you come to my office? I need to talk to you in private," Ward said in his usual tone, one that left no room for questions.

Arabella exchanged a glance with Sarah, who gave her a small nod of support before she stood up from the chair. Although it seemed strange to her, there was no reason to hesitate, so she followed him. As she walked through the halls towards the office, a slight nervousness settled in her chest.

When she reached the office, the door was already ajar. Ward entered first and Arabella followed, but what she didn't expect was to see Rafe sitting in one of the chairs, arms crossed and a tense expression on his face. The atmosphere was thick, and she immediately knew that this was not just any conversation. Something was wrong.

Arabella frowned and, despite her discomfort, walked over to the free chair. She sat down stiffly, looking from Ward to Rafe, waiting for some explanation. The silence in the room was almost oppressive, until Ward decided to speak.

"I've been thinking a lot about your future, Arabella," Ward began, his tone trying to sound understanding. "And I think that, after everything that's happened, it's time for Rafe to move on. And since you both need stability, I think there's a solution that will be beneficial for everyone."

Arabella looked at him in confusion, her brain slowly processing his words. "What... what do you mean by that?" she asked, unsure of where he was going with this.

Ward paused, as if trying to find the right words, though his tone remained firm. "I think it would be best for both of you to get married."

Arabella froze. She looked at Rafe, expecting to see a reaction of surprise or disagreement, but he just watched her with a distant expression. She looked back at Ward, expecting there to be some misunderstanding. "I don't understand..." she stammered, trying to clarify what she had just heard. "Marry Rafe? That doesn't make sense."

Ward, ever calm, folded his hands on his desk. "It makes perfect sense. With his fiancée dead, and your family starting to look for a husband for you, Rafe is the best choice. You already know each other, your parents trust our family, and this would ensure the stability you both need."

"No, this can't be!" Arabella stood up from her seat, her heart pounding. "I don't want to marry Rafe. This doesn't make sense. We're not... we don't get along!" She looked at Rafe for some sign of support, but he just watched her silently, his dark eyes reflecting resignation.

Rafe finally spoke, his voice low but laden with a strange mix of resignation and mockery. “Don’t resist, Arabella. There’s no escape for any of us.”

Arabella stared at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about? This doesn’t have to happen. I don’t… I don’t want this, Rafe. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Ward slowly rose from his seat and walked around his desk, approaching Arabella with calculated steps. “I understand that you’re shocked, but believe me, it’s what’s best for you. Your family is already starting to look for a good match for you, and what I’m offering is the best option. You won’t have to marry a stranger, you won’t have to fear for your future. Rafe will be a good husband for you.”

Arabella took a step back, shaking her head, fear and frustration invading every fiber of her being. “No, Ward. I can’t do this. I don’t want to.”

Ward looked at her with a mix of patience and determination. "I know you think you can run away from this situation, but you can't. Your family is already considering alternatives, and if you don't accept, there will be other decisions you won't like. This is for the best, Arabella. For you, for Rafe, for our families."

Arabella's mind raced, trying to find a way out. But every word Ward said caged her further in. She knew she didn't have much choice. If her family was already involved in the arrangements, she wouldn't have much room to maneuver. And Ward... Ward wasn't a man to take 'no' for an answer.

She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. Frustration, fear, and despair washed over her, but deep down she knew there was no way out. This was the reality she was in, and she couldn't change it.

After the conversation with Ward and Rafe, the tension between him and Arabella had grown almost unbearable. They could barely be in the same room without feeling an overwhelming pressure in the air. Before, even though they didn't get along, they could at least maintain a polite conversation, but now not even that. Arabella avoided any encounter with him, aware that she was trapped in a situation from which there was no escape. The very idea of ​​marrying Rafe, of sharing a life together, was overwhelming, almost claustrophobic.

Every time she thought about the wedding, she felt a mixture of frustration and resignation. Sarah, however, seemed to be delighted with the idea of ​​organizing the event. She was more than willing to take care of every detail, from the flowers to the dress. Sarah tried to cheer Arabella up, but even with her enthusiasm, it was clear that her friend knew that things were not right.

One afternoon, as the sun filtered through the windows of Arabella's room, Sarah entered without knocking, as she always did, and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into a corner of the room. Arabella's expression was blank, as if she were trapped in her own thoughts, absent from the world around her.

"Hey, Bells," Sarah said softly, closing the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"

Arabella looked up and forced a smile, but Sarah knew her too well to believe that gesture. She sat down beside her on the bed, taking Arabella's hand lovingly.

"You know you don't have to pretend with me," Sarah continued. "I know this isn't what you want."

Arabella sighed deeply, letting out all the air she had been holding. She knew Sarah wouldn't judge her, that she could speak to her with complete honesty. "I don't want to marry him, Sarah," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I never wanted this. And now... I'm trapped. I have no choice."

Sarah squeezed her hand, as if with that gesture she could transfer some of her strength to her. "I know. This isn't fair."

Arabella lowered her head, her eyes beginning to fill with tears that she struggled to hold back. "It's just... even the thought of having kids with him terrifies me. I don't see myself building a family with Rafe. I don't see myself sharing my life like that. This whole thing... is a nightmare."

Sarah looked at her, feeling her friend's anguish as if it were her own. "Bells, I'm here with you. Always. No matter what happens, you're not going to face this alone."

Arabella smiled weakly, grateful for Sarah's words, though the fear was still present. "Thank you, Sar. You're the only reason I haven't gone crazy over all of this yet."

Sarah gave her a small push on the shoulder, trying to ease the tension of the moment. "Hey, you can't tell me that planning a wedding with me doesn't have its fun side, right?"

Arabella laughed through her tears. "Yeah, right, 'fun' is exactly the word I would use to describe this."

Sarah smiled back, though she knew there was little she could do to ease the weight her friend was carrying. "This is all bullshit, I'm not going to lie to you. But no matter what happens, I'll be with you every step of the way. And if you need to run away, I'll help you escape. I know a guy who has a boat."

Arabella laughed, louder this time, imagining the absurd scene Sarah was describing. "It's good to know you have an escape plan ready."

Sarah's humor always managed to calm her down a bit.

Sarah, despite her unconditional support, felt the frustration of not being able to do more. She wanted to free Arabella from this situation, but she also knew that her family, her father in particular, was an impossible obstacle to overcome. So, as the wedding progressed, the only thing she could offer was her company, her loyalty, and a firm hand in the darkest moments.

It wasn't long before the wedding planning was set in motion. The Cameron machinery, with its unlimited power and resources, made everything happen surprisingly quickly. Arabella watched with resignation as the planning took shape almost overnight. Dozens of people were involved, each responsible for a specific detail: the flowers, the music, the decorations. Everything was being managed with surgical precision, as if the fact that she and Rafe could barely stand each other was irrelevant.

Chaos reigned in the house. Employees were running around, phones were ringing off the hook, and vendors were constantly visiting. Arabella couldn't believe how everyone seemed to be so excited about a wedding that, for her, represented the end of any hope of controlling her own destiny.

However, in the midst of the chaos, a problem arose unexpectedly: the family of Rafe's ex-fiancée showed up, outraged by how quickly the Camerons had decided to go ahead. It couldn't be any other way, Arabella thought. The news that Rafe was getting married again had reached them, and it hadn't gone down well with them.

One morning, as Arabella sat in the kitchen drinking tea, she heard the commotion from the hall. The angry voices of the ex-fiancée's parents filled the house, and through the half-open door she could hear the dead girl's mother accusing Ward and the entire Cameron family of being insensitive and heartless. "It's disrespectful to our daughter's memory!" the woman screamed, her eyes filled with tears. "It's barely been a while since she died, and you're already planning another wedding as if it meant nothing to you!"

Arabella felt a knot in her stomach as she listened. She couldn't help but feel bad for them. Although she hadn't been close to Rafe's ex-fiancée, she knew that the young woman had been loved by her family. And now, here they were, protesting what they felt was a betrayal.

Ward, for his part, showed not a hint of remorse. With his usual coldness, he assured them that this was all for the best for both families, and that there was nothing they could do to change it. "We deeply regret your loss," he said in a calculated, distant tone, "but life goes on. Rafe needs a wife, and this wedding is the solution."

The ex-fiancée's parents were not intimidated. “This is disgusting! There hasn’t even been enough time to grieve properly! And you’re already pushing your son into another wedding!”

Arabella felt the awkwardness building, but Ward seemed to have it all under control. That’s when he made his masterstroke. He offered them a considerable sum of money, with the promise that they would never speak of it again. Silence fell over the room as the ex-fiancée’s parents stared at Ward, stunned. But money solved everything in their world, and little by little, the family’s resistance crumbled. After one last hate-filled look, they left, accepting the implicit deal Ward had offered them.

Arabella, from the kitchen, watched silently as Ward waved them off without blinking. The contrast between his sincere grief and Ward’s icy pragmatism left her even more empty. She knew that at that moment, any chance of her wedding being delayed or even cancelled was gone. Everything was already underway, and no one—not even the deceased's family—could stop it.

When it was all over, Ward returned to the living room with a calm that bordered on the eerie. As if nothing had happened, he met with some of the organizers to discuss last-minute details, completely ignoring the spectacle that had just taken place.

Arabella slowly got up from the table and left the kitchen, trying not to think too much about what she had just witnessed. She knew that in the Cameron world, feelings always took second place to appearances and power.

The wedding day arrived quicker than Arabella could have imagined. Every step in the organization had passed like a whirlwind, and despite her inner resistance, everything had come together with astonishing precision. The Cameron home was decorated in dazzling fashion, as if the event were a celebration fit for royalty. White flowers hung in every corner, chandeliers sparkled, and the golden light of dusk filtered through the windows, adding an almost ethereal glow to the scene.

Arabella was in her room, surrounded by bridesmaids and stylists, as she prepared for the most important day of her life—or at least, the most forced. Sarah was by her side, adjusting the last details of the dress and making sure her friend didn’t fall apart before the ceremony.

Arabella’s dress was something everyone would talk about. The dress was made of a sheer, almost second-skin-like fabric that hinted at more than it covered, though the lace details gave it an air of elegance, both delicate and sensual. Each thread of lace had been strategically placed to create the illusion that the fabric was gliding smoothly over her figure, covering just enough but still revealing the shape of her body in a subtle way. The plunging neckline at the back and the embroidered details on the long sleeves made the dress sophisticated, yet bold.

The skirt flared slightly as it went down, lending an air of grace to her every move. But the real center of attention was the veil. Long and airy, the veil almost floated behind her, like a cloud of lace that seemed to have no end. It fell from a simple silver tiara that held her hair in loose waves, giving her an angelic appearance, but in her mind, it didn't feel that way at all.

Arabella looked at herself in the mirror, and for a moment she didn't recognize herself. The woman staring back at her was everything the world expected of her: perfect, beautiful, untouchable. But beneath that facade, all she felt was a mix of anguish and resignation. The dress might be the most stunning one she had ever worn, but she couldn't enjoy it knowing what it represented.

"You look gorgeous, Bells," Sarah said, trying to cheer her up as she finished adjusting the veil. "I know it's not what you want most, but at least, today you'll be the most beautiful bride of all."

Arabella gave her a weak smile in gratitude. She knew Sarah was trying to do her best in such a difficult situation, but that didn't ease the weight she felt in her chest. "Thank you, Sar. I really don't know what I would do without you."

The bustle outside intensified as the guests arrived. The murmurs, the sound of musicians tuning their instruments, all blended together in a distant echo as Arabella tried to focus on the present. She knew Rafe was somewhere in the house, probably getting ready as well, though she had no idea how he felt.

As she was being helped into her veil, she heard the door open behind her. Her father entered, dressed impeccably for the occasion. He looked at her with tacit approval in his gaze, as if she were a masterpiece he had created and was now displaying to the world. "You look perfect, daughter. I couldn't have imagined a better match for Rafe."

She swallowed hard, unable to find the words to respond. She didn't want to be the "perfect match," but she knew protesting at that moment wouldn't change anything.

"It's time for us to go downstairs," her father said, offering his arm to walk her to the ceremony site. Arabella took a deep breath and took his arm, feeling like she was giving up a part of herself with every step she took toward the wedding.

The garden where the ceremony would take place was a spectacle in itself. White flowers adorned the entrance arches, and the guests were seated in perfectly aligned rows, all waiting to see the bride. The sun was beginning to set, lighting up the sky with golden and pink hues, adding an almost magical touch to the setting.

In the distance, Arabella saw Rafe waiting for her at the altar, with his usual serious and impenetrable expression. Dressed in an elegant black suit. There was no emotion on his face, as if he were fulfilling one more task, another obligation imposed by his father and by the world around them.

With each step she took towards him, Arabella felt the distance between them grow, not physically, but emotionally. They were both on the verge of joining their lives, but they had never been further from each other. When she finally reached the altar, Rafe offered her his hand without saying a word, and the silence between them was more eloquent than any promise they could exchange.

The ceremony was brief. Arabella could barely process what was happening as the priest spoke the words, whispering the promises she and Rafe were to exchange. Their voices were barely audible, a distant echo amidst the murmur of the crowd. It all felt unreal, as if she were watching her own wedding from outside her body. The cold ring Rafe slipped onto her finger was the only tangible thing amidst the fog clouding her thoughts.

Once the vows were concluded, the guests stood up, applauding with a mix of enthusiasm and protocol, celebrating the union. Fake smiles and gestures were what they had expected of her, and though her stomach was churning, she reciprocated with weak smiles.

The transition to dinner and the party was almost immediate. The organizers moved with precision, guiding the guests towards the large tent decorated with lights and flowers, where the tables were impeccably set. Arabella and Rafe were led to the main table, seated like a royal couple under the watchful gaze of all the attendees. Rafe was at her side, but there was no contact, not even a word. All between them was silence and distance.

The dinner passed in the blink of an eye. Waiters paraded around with carefully prepared dishes, and champagne glasses were raised again and again in endless toasts. Arabella tried to keep her composure, but with each toast, she felt the tension in her chest grow. She knew what was coming next. The dance.

When the time came, the music began to play softly and the lights dimmed. Arabella felt her body tense as Rafe took her by the waist, his cold hands on her body.

The music started, and the two of them moved gracefully, but without a hint of connection. Arabella followed the steps as if it were a memorized choreography, feeling the pressure of each guest's gaze. She knew that everyone present was paying attention to them. Rafe's touch on her skin did not provoke the typical nervousness of a bride at her wedding, but a mixture of resentment and despair.

When the dance finally ended, applause filled the room. Arabella let out a sigh of relief. At least that part was over. But what came next weighed even more on her mind: the wedding night. She couldn't stop thinking about what awaited her at the end of the night, and although she tried to convince herself that everything would pass quickly, fear and uncertainty consumed her.

The party continued, but Arabella barely participated. She smiled when she should have, exchanged a few words with the guests, and accepted compliments about her dress and the beauty of the ceremony, but every minute that passed brought her closer to the inevitable.

Finally, the night came to an end. The guests began to leave, and the Cameron house fell back into a sort of calm after the bustle. Arabella and Rafe were escorted to their new room, a luxuriously decorated suite within the Cameron family home. Everything was perfect in the eyes of others, but to her, the silence of that room felt like a prison.

Arabella sat on the edge of the bed, her dress still clinging to her body, feeling the weight of the moment. She was alone with Rafe, and although they had been cold to each other for weeks, the intimacy that being in that room entailed made her feel even more vulnerable.

Rafe stood near the window, looking out. The silence between them was awkward, but Arabella was too nervous to break it. Finally, it was he who spoke, his voice low and sharp.

“I’m not going to touch you, Arabella,” he said without looking at her.

The words hit her with an unexpected harshness. Arabella felt her body tense, her hands tightening on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t what she had expected to hear, but at the same time, it wasn’t a surprise either. Part of her should have been relieved by Rafe’s confession, by the idea of ​​not having to endure this forced intimacy. But instead of relief, what she felt was something far more painful: rejection.

“I don’t want to make this any harder than it already is. But don’t flatter yourself. This is what it is. A farce,” Rafe continued, his voice laced with contempt.

Arabella swallowed, trying not to show how bad those words made her feel. She was supposed to feel happy that she didn't have to endure a wedding night with a man she didn't want, but instead, Rafe's contempt cut right through her. There was something in his tone, in the way he looked at her, that made her feel small, unwanted. For a moment, she wished he had ignored her instead of attacking her so coldly.

Without another word, Rafe left the room, slamming the door shut. Arabella was left alone, sitting on the bed, surrounded by the opulence of the room she now shared with him. The moon shone faintly through the curtains, and the silence grew heavier.

She was supposed to feel relieved, but the opposite was true. She felt an immense emptiness, a loneliness that enveloped her completely. Tears began to fill her eyes, but she refused to cry. This was not the time to show weakness, even though every part of her felt broken.

Arabella slowly stood up, carefully removing her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a heap of lace and silk. She sat on the bed, hugging herself as the chill of the room took over her body. This was not the life she had imagined, and though she had never wanted to be married to Rafe, the feeling of being rejected in such a brutal way hurt her deeply.

[mukimokai]

okay no cuz why is every kinich ship valid smh

TW: LONG ASS RAMBLING BUT FUNNY SILLY CUTSIE I PROMISE

kinlani is kinlani. like omg have you seen them: sunshine social butterfly girlfriend and her introverted moon boyfriend that she loves unconditionally. And it's a new concept for her once abused boyfriend who thinks everything comes at a cost: who gets confused when Mualani just loves him without asking for anything in return and he just loves it so much it makes him weak for her; he'd do anything for her without asking for payment like he does with anyone else because she helped him heal and she's his darling little wife who he'd do anything for.

ajawnich (ajaw with the ability to go into human form because seriously. we NEED human ajaw in more ways than one) is your typical doomed mortal x immortal tragedy in which a dragon who is new to human emotions and thinks lowly of humans slowly starts to understand humanity over the years with his infuriating yet kind human companion. Both are emotionally constipated fools; Ajaw pining like a lovesick idiot because he's supposed to hate his companion and want him dead but when that day of death finally comes, Ajaw feels no joy or happiness: just empty as he looks himself in the mirror, touching his face, or, well, Kinich's face.

oronich (idk the ship name, but also it exists lol) is two characters who are seen somewhat as outsiders by their own tribes: Kinich, while loved by most of the children, has a negative reputation for his job while Ororon is seen as a problem child and cast out of society. The two ostracised characters coming together in a doomed "we're kinda similar, aren't we?" Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham style (from stranger things, sorry chat) and forming an unexpected yet wholesome and definitely welcome bond with each other (they'd tend to their garden together).

lynich (a rarepair!! a popular rarepair is a miracle honestly) is two traumatized boys, the flirt and the flustered. One who speaks the truth outright, and one who's every word is a lie. One who thinks everything comes at a price, and one who thinks everything is a trick. When Lyney tells Kinich about his connections with the Fatui, Kinich isn't mad, surprised, but not mad. How could he be? When he knows why Lyney joined? He accepts him with open arms, Weighing the costs, befriending a member of the Fatui would most likely leave him out of their shadier affairs since Lyney would never harm him, right? Right. Even when Lyney succeeds Arlecchino, Even when he becomes a harbinger, even after everything: they're together, despite all the complications there are.

basically yeah. every kinich ship is valid rn. those are the popular ones at least-(ororon and kinich is not popular but it has more content than any others I've seen and ppl actually talked abt it at one point so it's being included)

citlali and kinich is being excluded bcz that's p3d0philia: fanbase, that was your lesson for shipping characters before we even know anything about them/before they're even released smh (/lh lololol)

-

to my unfortunate realization: kinlani is poppy and branch smh (singing killed his father and made his mother run away, okay). They're basically every cliche quiet boy and cliche loud girl duo ever in history and they have that absolutely based opposite aesthetic duo vibe going on and it's wonderful i love them to bits and pieces chat.

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ajawnich is princess and the frog in which ajaw turns into a pixel dragon instead of a frog, or beauty and the beast in which ajaw's seal is the rose curse thingie, or both. or fluttercord, cant forget fluttercord. or billford, cant forget billford either. take your pick with them honestly.

-

oronich is chrissy and eddie, could also see it being christine and raoul from phantom of the opera in which ajaw is the phantom, kinich is christine, and ororon is raoul.

(wait that's genius, im a fucking genius chat. someone make that an AU and credit me right NEEEEOW.)

-

and lynich is kinda just there i dont really know anything else to compare it to but it's giving that one scene in tom and jerry where it's like: "I love you. *smothers in kisses* Why, you set my soul on fire. *smothers in kisses* It is not just a little spark. It is a flame; a big roaring flame. I can feel it now *smothers in kisses*" (the person doing the kissing and talking is lyney in case you couldn't tell LMAOOAO)

-

anyways yeah

basically kinich harem i guess

i love being a multishipper because i can collect ships like a bitch and fawn over so many a time whenever i want >:3

also i love the whiplash between some of these: like kinlani and oronich were so wholesome and then you have AUGHHGHG angst with lynich and ajawnich smh.

sorry for rambling lmao but yeah

[avatarkv]

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (3)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader.(wc: 5211)

“You will make a good olo’eyktan.” 

Jake snorted, downing the last dregs of amber liquid from his worn wooden glass. He shook his head in amusement as he put it down on his lap– It must be the alcohol speaking, he thought to himself. Tsu’tey had been speaking vaguely; roughly in between asking where his loyalty lies and if he was willing to stay for the people. To say Jake was confused was an understandment, and he wasn’t a brick of a wall to not feel that something was wrong. 

“Don’t you mean would?” He asked, refilling his cup. “I would make a good olo’eyktan. A possibility.” 

Tsu'tey's merely shook his head as he finished his beverage, letting a few drops of liquid trickle down his chin. He didn’t bother to wipe it away, gaze far into the crowd of young warriors celebrating themselves. The festivity had gathered everyone and his eyes darted constantly to his lover– the one who rightfully had this heart.

And that was something Jake had noticed about Tsu’tey tonight, he realized. Tsu'tey was never truly looking at him. Although he had only spoken to him on this particular night, his eyes never once met Jake’s; it seemed as though he was constantly searching for something else– someone. 

Could it be Neytiri? His heart seized as the thought crossed his mind. He was selfish. Eywa knows just how impure his soul is; how cruel he is to love a promised woman. 

“What is that human word you use when you have not been truthful?” 

One of the things he became aware of as he continued to learn life in Pandora was that the Na’vi didn't recognize or understand the concept of lying; there wasn't even a word in their language for it. It was a revelation for him, that such an integral part of his motherland - dishonesty and deception - was nonexistent here. He feared he would be the one to taint their morals, to be the example to its definition. 

Jake was a liar. 

“You mean lie?” 

Tsu’tey nodded. “I fear I have done such a thing.” 

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes in thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to pry– not when his eyes seemed distant once more. He thought he looked at Neytiri, but standing beyond her was the figure his eyes desperately sought. Tsi’ewa looked like a vision in the firelight, her every gracefully swaying movement becoming alive in the mesmerizing glow of the large bonfire.

And she was just there– how could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?

Jake puts an awkward hand to his shoulders, attempting to comfort him with a pat. “Eywa will forgive you– whatever you did.” 

But Tsu’tey only shook his head again. His steady hand made quick work of refilling his cup to the brim once more, as if he was trying to drown out the rising truth that was spiraling from his stomach. He paused for a moment before lifting it up to meet his lips, “No. She would have to ask for my forgiveness instead.”

“We must tell the people now.” 

They continued to walk aimlessly, steps wide and quick. The night had seemingly stretched on for hours since the gathering had ended, and they were growing ever more irritable– both bodies awash with alcohol and both minds clouded with judgment. “Your thoughts are muddled, Tsu’tey. You’ve had a bit too much to drink.” She said in a dismissive tone, making it clear that she didn't want to discuss the topic further. Tsi’ewa was nothing but distant— tonight where Tsu’tey felt most painfully vulnerable. 

“I can think just fine, Tsi’ewa.” He carefully takes her arm, steering her to face him. “We have to tell the people now.” 

“And risk your place in the clan?” She quickly swats his hand away, her face twisted with a troubled expression. “I will not let you ruin your name.” 

They finally stand still, exhausted— bodies glistening in sweat. Tsi’ewa frantically looked around, perhaps for something to hurl or something to tightly squeeze'; anything to relieve the knot that churned deeply inside her stomach. Letting out another lengthy sigh, she finally looks at Tsu’tey. “I am but a songstress, Tsu’tey! Someone who people wouldn’t care enough to give two glances.” 

“And why do they matter?” He replied in the same tone, just as defeated as she was.

“Because I am nothing. I am unheard, I am not seen– but you. You are to become leader. The people need you, Tsu’tey.” She steps in closer, just enough to feel his warm breath fanning over her face. Her finger digs into his chest as she speaks, pressing harder with each word that spills from her mouth. “You have to choose.” 

“I do not have to. It is you who I want.” He answers, almost casually– like he had lost a screw or two to trade such a title for something so miniscule. Tsi'ewa releases a frustrated sigh, her posture wilting in defeat.

“You are being stubborn!” 

“And you think too low of yourself!”  

Silence envelopes their heaving bodies once more. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “I am unhappy with the union– it is against my will and most especially my heart. Do not make me choose the people.”

He finds promise in the crooks of her body, the warmth of her palms; a place of sanctity he wouldn’t mind kneeling to for hours. It was the kind of romance so tender, it would dissolve right on his tongue the moment he would consume it– he just knew he would love her for a very long time. Tsu’tey would let his title be damned if it meant having her for eternity. 

“We will be miserable.” She whispers. 

“Only if you push me away.” He answers. 

Who knew Tsu’tey was quite the romantic? Well– people would’ve known if they had given him the chance to truly love. The day he died, Tsi’ewa knew her heart was buried along with his. 

The flickering firelight created a somber ambience as Jake sat motionless, lost in thought. The dancing shadows casted by its light created an indescribable feeling of unease– an overwhelming weight of dread settling on his shoulders. His mind raced endlessly, thoughts clamouring in his head to be brought to the forefront. 

The clan– the people. His family. Himself. Deafening, deafening sound.

Quartich was back and he had to think fast. Sure, they were far from where the old shack is, but it wouldn’t be long until they were eventually found. The thought strikes an indescribable fear, reeling him in and getting the best of him. 

To say Jake was tired was an understatement. 

Tired is a word used to describe how one feels after a busy day; one that promises a better tomorrow– a green light that lets you go ahead and continue once more. He fears this is more than just casual exhaustion, but something that threatens to bury him six feet under.

And then there was you; a particular voice desperate for a minute of his time. He hears your voice, even in mind. His stubborn eldest. You might as well be the reason for why his hair is turning white so early. He thought it was just a phase– he thought that every child would eventually grow out of their angsty-teenager stage. Heck, he went through one back on earth. Jake was once a little boy too, he’d know. 

But as time stretched on, he realized that your actions had rooted from actual hurt and not just some juncture in life. When you said you hated him, you actually did. When you said he was being a shit father, he actually was. He made you feel that way. 

Jake wonders when it happened– what had slipped through his fingers for everything to become so messy. He swears he hears you as much as you don’t think he isn’t listening. 

You’d make a great olo’eykte. He knows it. Somewhere along that line frightens him– makes him terribly uneasy. He doesn’t mean to tell you otherwise, but in his eyes, you will always be his little girl; the same kid who cried to him once because everyone had been too mean. Jake would burn the whole world if he had to; shed blood if it meant your safety. 

Being a clan leader meant exactly that. He knew you’d do everything to ensure everyone’s safety, even if it meant your life. Jake wasn’t ready for that– he wasn’t ready to hear that his little girl was capable enough to not need him. 

He wished he’d rather made that clear instead of severing your already strained bond. The gulf between you two has grown too wide for him to bridge the gap, and it's slowly eating away at him. 

There was just something so complicated between a father and a daughter’s relationship– a kind of complication that neither of you could tell what you really meant. He wishes he could understand you; take away the troubles that made you restless. Maybe then, your eyes wouldn’t feel so distant– maybe then, you wouldn’t look at him like he wasn’t your own dad. 

He numbly reaches for the machine gun– its surface still emanating heat from its earlier use. He can feel its weight in his grasp, a firm reminder of the violence that had just transpired. He clenches it in his hands, his sweaty palms pressing against its hard surface in an almost comforting way. 

“The children are fine and taken care of,” Neytiri gently announced as to not worry her already troubled mate. “Your mind is clouded, ma Jake, tell me about it. ” 

“Just thinking,” Neytiri sat in front of him, allowing the silence to linger for a moment longer while she awaited his response. “That maybe Tsu’tey had been hinting at his relationship with Tsi’ewa for much longer than we thought.” 

That wasn’t at all what her mate had expected him to say, thinking that he would likely talk about what had happened back at the old shack. The wrinkle between her eyes deepened as she questioned aloud, "Why is this being brought up now?" 

Jake released a lengthy exhale as he released the empty shell from his gun, letting it amble towards the fire pit. “Maybe I could have done something to save him from dying a warrior’s death so soon.” 

Neytiri straightened her leaning posture, clicking her tongue. “This isn’t about Tsu’tey, is it?” The way Jake's reaction was almost too subtle to notice only solidified her suspicions. His posture seemed to slightly change, his shoulders stiffening ever-so-slightly as if he was attempting to contain the emotions running just beneath the surface. “It’s about y/n.”

“Always about that daughter of ours.” He attempted to make light of the situation, stifling a chuckle. This demeanor was a thin veil for the obvious elephant in the room and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make it known just yet.  “Hard headed and snobby, just like Tsu’tey.” 

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she got it from you instead?” Neytiri narrowed her eyes at him, mouth twisted in a slight scowl. When Jake only released a snort in reply, his gaze still fixated on the machine gun, she lightly swatted him on the nape of his neck with a hiss. “You are too hard on her– on everyone! Don’t you think that you’re being too harsh on them?” 

Jake winces before replying, voice firm and just as loud. “I am only doing what I can to protect everyone.” He flails his arms around, trying to emphasize his words. “Everything that I do is for them. You think I enjoy being like this? Being the mean parent?”

“Then stop!” 

Jake let his long fingers run through his hair, slightly tugging at the braids in exasperation. His eyes closed for a fleeting moment as he drew in a sharp breath, attempting to compose himself. “It’s not that easy, Neytiri. They had their knives right under our children’s necks– I’m only trying to keep this family alive and together.” 

“By pushing everyone away? By telling your eldest that she isn’t enough? Listen to what you’re saying, Jake! You aren’t hearing yourself!” Neytiri presses a finger into his chest. “This isn’t about war– it wasn’t always about fighting. It’s about you and the children.” 

Everyone falls silent, letting the weight of their words settle in the air. The only sound is that of the distant fire crackling, filling in the otherwise unbearable quiet. They took in each other’s heaving figures, eyes softening in mutual understanding. 

“You’re scared you’re going to fail her like you think you did with Tsu’tey.” Neytiri whispers softly this time. Jake’s ears flatten in response– stiff shoulders slumping in defeat. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Neytiri.” 

“Oh please– you are never this rough with Kiri and Tuk. Y/n is your daughter too, so why does she have to be on the receiving end of such hard affection?” She lets out an agitated scoff,   “You do not hear her, ma Jake. When she shouts, she does not call for Toruk Makto– ma’ite does not challenge the olo’eyktan. She yearns for just you, her father.”

And that was Neytiri for you; ever the wiser one. She always knew what to say. Jake looks at him with such tenderness– an admiration that was strikingly reminiscent of the first time he ever saw her. 

“You fathers always do not know what to feel– what to say. So you tend to be less understanding, because in that way, less words are spoken. Silence is better than talking it out, yes? Ma’sempul was the same. Only when he died did I realize– but will you take it to your grave before you let her know that she is loved?” 

A daughter is only a daughter once, not until you make her forget. 

“Make her understand. Your intentions are fair, but your ways are ill— they are ill, Jake.” Neytiri's words stung like a slap in the face, she might as well strike him straight to the chest. It rendered him speechless, yet he knew something shifted— and for the better. “She is your daughter. Not Tsu’tey’s.”

His daughter. 

“Am I a bad father, Neytiri?” His voice had cracked and she swore she could hear the faint breaking of his already fragile heart. The realization slowly seeped into the wrinkles of his weary face, accentuating the creases from fatherhood itself. He failed everyone and he knew it. He always thought his actions were justified– but it was the consequences that struck him the most: He didn’t know Neteyam’s favorite color, but he knew how odd he held his bow. 

He didn’t know his children.

“No, just misguided.” Slowly, Neytiri cautiously wraps her arms around his rigid form. She can feel the warmth of his skin against her face as she nestles her head into the crook of his neck. She swears he could hear the rapid beat of his heart and it pounds in sync with hers– they were both lost and terribly exhausted. “I know earth did not allow you to be soft, but you’re not alone anymore. Put your burdens at ease, ma Jake.” 

Jake returns her embrace, squeezing her body softly. He allows himself to bask in the moment of stillness, taking in the sweet smell of her hair and skin. With a shaky exhale, he attempts to savor the fleeting peace before it's gone. When did everything become so difficult?

After a while, Neytiri finally stands, feeling the exhaustion of all she has endured today seeping into every fibre of her body. “The children are staying over at Mo’at’s for tonight.” 

She stands there, lingering for a moment before finally turning to leave. “Just talk to her, Jake.” 

And there he was, alone with nothing but the warm glow of the flickering fire to accompany him once again. 

Fruits. You love fruits, he thinks. 

Perhaps you didn’t get the memo that everyone was staying over at your grandma’s for the night; perhaps you were waiting for him to come home too. He carefully sliced the yovo fruits, placing them a bit too delicately on the bark bowl. 

Jake was undeniably nervous. His own teenage daughter made him nervous.

As he slowly trudged towards the hut, his toe lurched into one of the wicker chairs– a loud string of curses exploded from his lips as he clamped his eyes shut in frustration. Through gritted teeth, he peered down to the seat. immediately noticing its snapped leg which seemed to mock him for his carelessness. He exhaled deeply. crouching down to take a closer look.

Funny enough, it was yours– your name glaring right back at him.

If there was something that he learned best back on earth, it was to be handy— good with his hands. (well, considering the lack of legs, he had to make use of thereof.) He thought he had cracked the code back then; giving everyone gifts and crafting whatever they pleased. Jake failed to realize that it was not more toys the children wanted– it was him. Just him.

"Listen, I'm sorry," Jake visibly winces at his poor attempt at an apology. He takes a pause, deciding on the right words to say before continuing, “Let’s talk about it, kid– promise not to raise my voice." He waits for her response but only silence greets him in return. He releases a deep sigh and mumbles under his breath, “-- or maybe not. This is fine." He carefully slides in the bowl of freshly cut fruits under the flap of the hut after taking a few moments to rest against its wooden walls. He looks around, his eyes wandering everywhere, “You listening?” He waits again, “Your father– he was a good man. A very good man, in fact."

“Neytiri was promised to him and he was to become the olo’eyktan. I was only an outsider; barged in and made a mess of an already good clan.” he reminisced, “He had every right to view me as a threat– heck, he could’ve even greeted my approach with a spear right to the chest the moment I arrived. He didn’t. No one did.” 

“I’m thankful for that. Everything I have now is because of him.” He looks back at the entrance, hoping for even a flicker of light being lit by you– he thought maybe you were also leaning against the wall that separates you both. “I was wrong. Your father was far more than enough, and of all people, I should have known that better– should have known better than to talk shit about him to his very daughter.” 

He exhales a deep, heavy sigh for what feels like the hundredth time, his frustration evident as he rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “Look, what I’m trying to say is. I miss you, sweetheart. I’m growing old– and while you aren’t getting any younger either, I want you to understand that when I shout, it means I want you to listen. When I push you to your limits, I only want you to do your best.” 

He looked back at all the times where you and him argued– when he thought what he was doing was right. Jake wondered if he pushed you away everytime he raised his voice. He probably did.  

“Well– raising my voice probably never worked because you always shouted back.” he says, shaking his head with a snort of laughter. No matter how loud either of them got, the other always managed to raise their voice even higher. “Time is fucking with me– you all are growing so fast. One second I’m snuggling with everyone in the same hammock and then all of a sudden I find myself making everyone a separate one because we’re all too big now.” 

He grows quiet, a lump welling up in his throat that renders him speechless. “I’m not olo’eyktan– I’m no Toruk Makto. I’m just a father, baby. And I think that’s the most vulnerable I’ll ever be.” 

“Never wanted any of you to fight. Never wanted to put everyone on the line for war–” Another breathy exhale, “I was scared. Fine, there it is, out in the open. My star failed me, sweet girl. I know how humans worked back there and they worked ruthlessly. We killed our own land– our own mothers.” 

His stomach would lurch at the thought of it, an overwhelming pang of nausea stirring within him. Jake could barely survive back there– he truly was lucky to be chosen by Eywa. He could already be dead if not the past occurrences for all he knows. 

“I wasn’t allowed to be gentle back then and I’m glad eywa is a lot more merciful here.” He looks up, staring at the starry sky. Earth had taken too much from him and ironically, it was also humans who kept ruining him here in Pandora too. Jake was always one step behind no matter how hard he tried. “But you got to give me a bit of recognition here, baby girl, I'm trying. I didn’t automatically become a father after having children. I think I’m forever learning. I still have a lot to go.” 

“I did what I thought was right; I had to ensure that my family was safe, no matter the cost, and I didn’t even realize I put a damn war over everyone’s head. Sweetheart, I never wanted any of you to fight– I never wanted to put everyone on the line to battle. I would never wish for anyone to experience what I went through back on earth and funny enough, I brought it right to our doorstep.” And he felt his voice break as words tumbled out of his mouth in an incoherent pace, desperately trying to release all these emotions that had been clogging up his throat. He brought a hand roughly to his face in an effort to hold himself together, fingernails digging lightly into the delicate skin around his eyes. “I’m scared, babygirl.”

“Eywa was kind enough to give me children in the image of people I’ve already lost; Tsu’tey, Grace– hell, I even see Tommy on Lo’ak. That knucklehead is just too curious for his own good.” He didn’t know if it was a curse rather than a gift; every corner of his house was haunted and grief had made a home right on his very lungs. 

He looks back at the flap of the hut and still no sign of you– even the bowl of fruits was left untouched. “Tough crowd.” He murmurs to himself before finally deciding to stand, his legs stiff from sitting still for too long. He awkwardly pats his thighs, shaking away the dust he collected. “Everyone is staying over at Mo’at’s. You can have the hut to yourself for the night.”

Space. Maybe you needed space.  (And he was terribly wrong. Space was all that remained between you two.)

Jake starts to slowly walk away, yet somehow he feels like his troubles remain firmly on his shoulders. The guilt was there— all of it. He looks back one last time, praying. Eywa, give me one last chance. Let my daughter come running to me in an embrace and I’ll swallow my pride. 

Nothing.

He felt his heart slowly breaking, the pieces of it slipping lower and lower down his stomach with every passing second. His mind was a mess; he could feel all his doubts and insecurities swirling about inside his body, each one vying for center stage. I am no better than my own father. I am no better than my own father. I am no better than my own father.

Unbeknownst to him, you were never in the hut to begin with. It was sick– such a cruel joke for the words you’ve been desperate to hear to be left unheard. 

“Give me strength, dear mother. Tell me what I’m doing is just.” 

You were kneeling on the damp, mossy ground close to the roots of the tree of souls, your hands tightly gripping onto your queue. The thick foliage that surrounded you was awash with the lavender hue that emitted from the vine-like leaves, lending you warmth from the chill eclipse. Woodsprites floated nearby, swaying close as if to welcome your presence. 

Inching closer, you stretch out your arm before allowing the tendrils of your braid to coil around the hanging threads. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself feel– taking in the presence of Eywa. 

Your mind was clouded. Once a dark space turned into something light– too light, it was almost blinding. Everything was blurry, almost like a dream, but you knew it wasn’t; knew well where you stood and why you were here to begin with. 

Slowly, a vision emerges - a woman standing just a few paces from you. She feels something in the air and her ears perk up, as if she is trying to figure out the space she’s in too. Her head turns from each corner, cautiously checking the blurry surroundings. After a few moments of searching for something visible to the eye, she turns and finally spots you. A sudden shock passes through her body, evident by the way her eyes widen in surprise. She stands there for what seems like eternity, you can almost see the gears starting to move and click within her mind.

“Oh, my sweet child–” 

She reaches out to envelop you in an embrace, but you take a step back in response. Her arms remain open– still hopeful that you’d run to her like how a child would to her mom, but you were just there, staring incredulously. 

“I don’t know who you are.” 

This couldn’t be Eywa. You would’ve known. 

You two stood still, eyes drawing over each other’s lines and curves, trying to etch it in memory– then it dawned to you– could this be your mother? 

“I knew Tsu’tey had the stronger genes, I just didn’t expect him to take up most of the space in your face.” She lets out a breathy chuckle, “Come close, child, let me see you.” 

And you shouldn’t.  You haven’t seen this woman all your life nor did the people provide enough stories about her. She was nothing but the person who had birthed and given you life– that should’ve been enough for you to run straight towards her, but you stood there, gulping down a familiar grief. 

It’s weird for mothers and daughters to just coexist like she had not brought you upon the world at all. Sure, you have her eyes and you might grow to have her exact physique, but the word ma’ite sounded distant on her tongue– cold and unloving. Her arms weren’t inviting. 

This wasn’t your mother. Mothers are kind and warm, like Neytiri.

Your legs moved forward in a hesitant pace, as if you were being pushed against your will. You stood closer, enough to let her cup your face. She lets out a choked sob– or was it laughter? You couldn’t follow. She lets her thumb mindlessly brush against your soft cheeks, eyes filled with so much love, you feared it would be too heavy. That love was reserved for you and only you– for all the ages you’d grow to be.

But all energy is borrowed. She has been carrying this longing tenderness for years in the afterlife. 

You had Tsu’tey’s eyes, his lips. She’d argue that the nose is debatable, but surely if you rip open your heart, you’d find your mother’s own. Sweet, sweet child, forced to grow up too quickly. Tsi’ewa was sure you’d be the kindest soul. 

You ponder deeply– what kind of life would your mother have had if you had never been born at all? Would she still be here, with all her vitality and vigor, relishing in the gift of her youthful years? Would she perform to the children, singing them lullabies they drift off into a peaceful sleep? The thought causes you profound anguish– your mother was just like you; full of life and once was a little girl too.

You wish you knew her enough to let the grief prolong.

“Time has been unkind to you,” She said softly, her fingers tenderly sweeping the loose strands of hair away from your face.

“You are not my mother.” 

“I know.” She replies. Tsi’ewa doesn’t take it to heart how harsh your responses have been– you were just her little girl, lost and terribly misguided. “For all we know, I’ve only been one to you right now, so just this once– let my words bear meaning.” 

You chose to wait; giving her the opportunity to slowly get acquainted with you, taking in every little detail of your face - from the stars of moles to the creases around your eyes. You were patient with her, allowing her to digest all that made you who you are – beyond just looks. She was just a mourning mother that grieved her little girl. 

“You do not have to stay.” She whispers and her words hit a little too close to home, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut and suppress a sob. “A boy would be Olo’eykte of the Omatikaya– but you, ma’ite, shall be mine.”

As the words slipped her mouth, you had finally granted her an embrace. You swear you had felt yourself turn smaller. Your head rests against her stomach, letting your ear listen for whatever you might hear. This is where you came from, you thought. Who knew a mother could bear a stranger? She clings to you with a desperate grip, preventing you from falling apart— as if it's her own way of trying to hold you together. 

Just a bit more, Eywa. She begged. Give me a minute more to hold my girl.

I wish you’d give birth to me again, you cried, maybe then I’ll turn into something better. 

You open your eyes, feeling beads of tears roll down your face. You mindlessly wipe them away, not truly grasping what had transpired or how the weight on your shoulders lightened. Woodsprites quickly flutter away once you regain consciousness. Your head shoots up, and a silent thank you escapes your lips as you bask in the warm glow of the light that touches your face.

Forgive me Eywa for leaving. Your ikran lets out a sharp shriek as you climb onto her back, taking steady steps up her body while gently caressing her back. The animal quiets down at your touch, eager to fly once more. 

A heart is meant to be cupped by unscathed hands and if you cannot find palms big enough for yours, then you fear home is somewhere else.

finally posted a new chapter, how is everyone doing ! i honestly don't know what to feel about this part just yet, but i had to write through a writer's block so it might be ass. had to fight it or else i'd be stuck in a rut on god

very important ! i've decided not to take any more tags ;( i'm really sorry, but they take up most of my time and it bugs my posts because it only lets me tag to an extent? so if your name isn't mentioned, do know that i had to take out a few (or because your user didn't pop up when i tried) please turn on your notifications instead ;(

already proofread but please don't be hesitant to point out mistakes, i tend to be blind when it comes to editing teehee i listened to jacob and the stone by emile mosseri while writing this so you might want to do so too to set the mood !

love everyone so bad, thank you for being patient w me. smooch !

tags: @reyalvr @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @lunyyx @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pinkeroppi @mellowdiy @jimfiqs @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ayra2452008 @vodoo-heart @rose-brulante @starxao @bluevenus19 @entertain-my-lvst @wwwellacom

[aryxchse]

school president and the troublemaker. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n ; hello ya'll it's ya fav daughter of hera writer, this fic is written while i listened to my 'old bts songs' playlist, you know i'm talkin' about you just one day!!!

warnings : cursing, teenagers (that's should be a warning), this is writed by according to my countries school rules so deal with it, also grover, y/n, annabeth and percy are my favorite gang fr, rival-ish friends to lovers??, percy beating the shit out of some guy, mentions of staring, blood, no kiss on the lips ugh

"i fucking hate mondays," the son of poseidon whined, crossing his arms on his desk and leaning his head on them.

the first two class was history, which it didn't made anything better for him. he was a math guy, he didn't liked reading and stuff. but you and annabeth seemed to really enjoy it, even though annabeth is literally dislexic while your adhd was messing with your head.

grover sighed in front of him, leaning his head back until it rested on percy's desk. "i know right?" he said, fixing his green beanie. annabeth and you sighed, rolling your eyes at the two lazy boys.

"oh please, today's class is about mythology. i'm going to fuck that bitch up," annabeth said, smiling at you. you smiled back, knowing how much she hated your history teacher.

"you're fucking every teacher beth." percy yawned next to you, looking at the blonde girl. "they all hate you at this point for real."

"don't care," annabeth shrugged, looking like she was proud of herself. which she was. "they should educate people with truth, not a fucking lie."

"speak louder queen!" you agreed with her, while taking notes to your clipboard. there was a lot of shit going on in this big ass school, and you didn't know why you wanted to be a president of it this much.

at the beginning of the year, percy told you that you shouldn't get ahead of yourself—meaning that you guys can get expelled any day. but it never happened, it was yours second year in this school. three demigod's and one satyr, in the same school for two years. they should write and teach this in history too!

you had a way of talking out of problems, so whenever you four caused a trouble, everyone acted like nothing happened because of the mist. you controlled it in some type of way, because you wanted to be a president of some school before you become an adult.

back to now, percy peeked from your shoulder to see what you were writing on the clipboard.

— TO DO LIST —

visit the art, music and sport club to see if they need anything ✓

send the principal the needs of the clubs ✓

hang the new concert posters to schools board ✓

check if the p.e class needs anything

meeting with the other members at 13.00, lunch break

take the list of needed books in the library and hand the list to principal ✓

help the teachers or principal with the paperwork or sending them to where they should go ✓ (done for today)

you tapped your pen on the clipboard, focusing on the tasks you haven't done yet. percy sighed next to you, getting overwhelmed with how much work you had.

percy and annabeth was in the president club thingy with you, annabeth was the leader of the library club while percy was the sport clubs. they handed you the lists you writed on your clipboard. percy joined you to skip some classes and spend some time with you while annabeth just liked to be in charge.

"i didn't know we had a meeting today," percy whispered to you as the bitchy history teacher came into class. you rolled your eyes at the boy, putting the clipboard away to open your history notebook.

"i literally texted it in our groupchat. but you decided to ignore it and write 'what are we doing after school tomorrow?'" you reminded him. percy was about to answer you, but the teacher started yelling.

"alright kids, today we're learning about the twelve olympians and their wars!"

the four of you tried your hardest to not laugh, instead sharing side-eyes.

"man, for the first time this class will be fun," percy said, resting his cheek on his palm.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

the class was indeed fun.

annabeth had so much fun fixing the teacher's every mistake while the rest of you tried not to laugh. but you took notes anyway. you wrote the notes in ancient greek for the gang to copy from you, since they had dislexia and couldn't read.

"you're the best," annabeth said, kissing your cheek as you handed her the notes. you smiled, blowing a kiss to her way as a response. grover sat next to annabeth while eating a vegan sandwich, and percy was trying to get a drink from the machine.

"ya'll have any more cents?" percy asked, angry at the machine. you sighed and stood up, giving a good kick to the machine. it started working again, dropping percy's blue coke with some snacks. you smiled at him, flipping your hair while you returned to your seat.

"like i didn't know how to do that," he murmured, taking his drink with his now free snacks. he gave the chips to annabeth while handing the m&m's to you. he took the fish cracker to himself, holding it in his mouth to open his coke.

there was this little table at the end of the corridor, right next to the food machine. it was you guys usual spot, and everyone knew it. except the lunch times at the cafeteria, you four always hanged around here.

annabeth rested her back against the wall, laying her feet on top of grover's lap. the satyr didn't mind, since they usually sit like that. your seat was in front of annabeth, as you rested your head against your palm, taking a support from the wall. percy leaned against you, putting his whole weight on you while he eated the fish crackers messily.

you paid no attention to him as you wrote something on your clipboard again. "did we have anything missing in p.e class? like some new basketball's?"

annabeth looked up as she thinked for a moment. "the new one we got apperantly blowed up, at least that's what james told me." you groaned, smashing your head -gently- to the table. "i fucking hate basketball team."

"same," grover said, eating percy's now empty diet coke. "they're like hydra's."

percy laughed at that, making a fist bump with grover.

"when was the meeting again?" grover asked after the laugh session with percy. you groaned again, head still on the table. "read the fucking group chat for gods' sake!"

"man, chill." grover raised his hands in defeat. annabeth closed her own notebook while handing you yours. "thanks babe." she said, patting your head gently. you only made thumbs up to her, leaving the notebook on the table.

percy sighed and sat straight, putting your notebook in your bag. he held you by the waist and made you lean to his shoulder, taking your clipboard away from you. "you've already done almost everything here, the others are useless." he said, voice soft.

you hugged percy's arm to support yourself and annabeth slightly smiled to herself. as your chin rested on top of his shoulder, you looked at the clipboard. "i know but the p.e class is worst than everything i did there, it's so tiring."

"i can help you, you know." he said, putting the clipboard on the table and looking at you. you pulled yourself away to look in his eyes. how those ocean eyes can held so much care in them?

"but you hate checking p.e class," you said quietly, hands still lazily on his bicep. he smirked, putting his own hand on top of yours.

"if it's going to make you shut up, then i'll be glad to help." he teased, and you can see it in his expression. you only rolled your eyes, smile betraying your fake annoyance.

"wow, what a nice man you are percy jackson." you complimented, patting his bicep. he flexed them while he gave you a cocky look. "i know pretty."

"i'm gonna throw up," annabeth said, still smiling. grover nodded, gagging playfully. you both sticked your tongue out to them, chuckling.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"that's it, i'm not fucking letting you help me through the p.e class check again." you hissed, making percy sit on the infirmary bed.

he fucking had a fight. apperantly some guy from the soccer team checked you out in that pretty school skirt of yours, and percy noticed it. you didn't know why he was this protective or annoyed when it camed to other guys, but now you had to deal with his bloody lip and eyebrow.

"he was fucking you with his eyes, what i was gonna do? give him a view?" he snapped back, his normally sweet shade of sea green eyes now as dark as a storm. you hated when percy looked at you like this. his hatred was easier to see. it wasn't towards to you, it's never towards to you. but you can't help but feel like you're being attacked too.

"nothing, percy. nothing!" you said, your own eyebrows furrowed. no one was in the infirmary because the school sucked at being responsible. you made sure to point this to principal too.

luckily, your best friend was a demigod, who can heal with water. but unluckily for you, there was no water near. so, you had to caress his wounds like the old ways. still, he healed much faster than a mortal could.

the moment alcoholed cotten touched his lip, he hissed. "what the fuck you mean nothing?" he said, but his voice wasn't loud. "you- you had a crush on him or something?" the last sentence camed out his lip weak.

you rolled your eyes at the boy, who's now had a worried expression on his face. you couldn't understand why, but he looked like he could cry if you touched him. "don't tell me you have a crush on that fucking asshole. you can't be serious, i mean- have you seen hi-"

"percy shut up for gods' sake!" you yelled and he jumped. it made you feel a bit bad, but he was not making any sense. you stopped wiping the blood and cleaning the wound on his lip, now starting to put some bandages on it.

"i don't have a crush on the guy, i don't even know who he is." you explained, now wiping his eyebrow. he didn't flinched on this one, instead he was focused on you. "but you can't just attack people just because they're looking at me."

"he wasn't looking, y/n/n. he was literally-"

"fucking me with his eyes, i know." you shushed him gently with your words, your eyes holding too much care in them. weren't you questioning his eyes back then?

you were standing in between percy's legs, and you both were face to face, even though he was sitting. his expression was soft once again, and his eyes shined like always. you held his chin gently while carefuly treating the wound. "but he didn't dared to do anything, did he?"

"i would like to see him fucking try." he hissed.

"believe me, he wouldn't." you assured him, now bandaging him once again. he had a confused look on his face, but one side of him telled him you were right. "those guys like that can do nothing but stare."

there was a silence between you two now. percy kept sitting on the bed while you put away the first aid kit. after that you camed back to your previous place in between percy's legs, hands resting on his thigh.

he gently held your wrists in return, thumbs caressing the place gently. the boy was in the other infirmary in school, since they didn't want to put him in the same place as percy. you wondered how was the boy, because percy was literally about to kill him.

"how am i gonna get a boyfriend if you keep attacking the boys around me?" you joked, and for the first time, percy didn't laughed. he still looked down on your now intertwined hands, looking like he was in some kind of a trance.

you didn't want a boyfriend anyways, you wanted percy. the joke was to lighten the mood, but to also see his reaction. you we're having suspicions or delusions lately, about him liking you back. and you wanted to get a real answer for yourself.

luckily for you, percy was about to give you one.

"i don't want you to have a boyfriend, to be honest." he whispered, his forehead resting on your shoulder. your cheek -you didn't know why- immediatly found it's place on his head, smelling the salt water scent he had.

"why? you wanna keep me to yourself?" you chuckled, asking what you wanted to ask for a long time in a jokeful way.

"yeah, actually." he said.

you frozed. you wanted to keep your actions as warm as possible for him to not think you would ever reject him. you did wanted to get some real answers, but not stomach flipping, toe curling and cheek blushing one like this. your heart beated so fast that you thought you we're having a heart attack, and your breath hitched.

"what?" you managed to ask softly, and your voice felt like an angel to his ears.

"i'm sorry i-" he choked in his own words, afraid to face you. he still kept his head on your shoulder, in fact; he nuzzled into your neck a bit. "i don't want to ruin our friendship, but... in some way i do."

you chuckled, and he felt like the weight on his shoulders lifted.

"i kinda want that too," you whispered back, hands now caressing his bicep. his hands find their way onto your waist, holding you firmly close to himself. his heart was about to pop out from his body and met with yours, just chilling inside your body instead of his. weird way to express what he was feeling, but percy was never good with words anyway.

"yeah?" he breathed out, his smile can be heard from his voice. your own smile matched his, so bright that sun would be jealous. "since when?"

"oh man, i don't want to answer this." you joked, and he laughed. that's the react you've been waiting for. "you'd think i'm obsessed with you."

he raised his face from your neck to look at you, his eyes shining as bright as the sky now. you loved how his emotions reflected in his eyes, making him not be able to hide anything. you knew him better than anyone else anyways, he was always an open book to you.

"oh please, i don't have the right to judge you when i'm this whipped." he said, making you laugh. "we're we even friends this whole time?"

you laughed harder. "you know what? i think the fuck not." you answered through giggles. "we we're just two idiots who pretended to be friends."

as you both laughed there, to your whole situation, percy hugged you tight. an air escaped your lips in suprise, but you were quick to hug him back.

"you don't have any idea how relieved i am right now," he mumbled to your neck, leaving a few light kisses there. your hands caressed his raven hair, massaging the scalp. "i love you, so fuckin' much."

"i love you too, seaweed brain." you said back quietly, kissing on top of his head.

he was about to kiss you on the lips when annabeth and grover barged in.

"finally you idiots!" annabeth said, crossing her arms and resting her back on the door frame. grover put his arm on her shoulder, smirking.

"it's about fucking time, eh?"

[fallonsfics]

Perfection in Every Sense

Warnings: Cheating, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, fingering, oral (Fem receiving), lots of praise, profanity.

Overview: You’ve found yourself detesting your boyfriend Felix Ravinstill. Now you find the one who’s been turning your head is none other than Coriolanus Snow.

Word Count: 3,4k

You were arm and arm with your boyfriend Felix Ravinstill as you ambled around Heavensbee Hall. You were waiting for the Reaping to commence, as well as waiting for the results regarding who would be gifted the Plinth Prize. You smoothed out your tight black dress, it was simple yet eye-catching all the same. You greeted your peers with charming smiles and polite greetings. You sipped on your glass of posca as Felix chatted with Arachne and Festus. You found your mind drifting elsewhere as the three spoke in favor of the brutal games. Your gaze floated around the room as you looked for better company.

“Don’t you agree, dear?” Felix asked, nudging your shoulder. Your gaze snapped back to the trio.

“Hm?” You asked, cocking your head. They all chuckled at your response.

“Do you ever have a thought behind those eyes?” Festus teased, eyes raking your figure. 

You pursed your lips as you glared at him. “Trust me I do. However, I was raised with the ‘if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all mindset.’” You retorted. 

You craned your neck as a familiar blond peer caught your eye. Coriolanus had Clemensia Dovecote on his arm as he entered the hall. He looked gorgeous as ever, hair meticulously styled, his dapper vintage shirt creating a refined look. You found yourself drifting from Felix for a moment, as if your feet were moving on their own volition to go greet Coriolanus. However, your boyfriend put a hand at your waist and tugged you to his side once more. “Ansty to see Snow, are we?” He asked, raising a brow.

You rolled your eyes, as annoying as Felix was he wasn’t stupid. “Well, I wanted to wish him luck. As I did to all of my friends.” You said. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. Coriolanus was known to flirt with you and give you compliments that Felix would never dream of. Much to your delight, Coriolanus parted ways with Clemensia to join your group. 

“If it isn’t the star pupil himself.” Arachne mused as her gaze swept his figure with a critical eye. It was as if she were trying to find a flaw. An impossible notion in your mind naturally. 

“Worried about losing the prize, Arachne?” Coriolanus quipped as he approached. He flashed a charming smile at you. “You look lovely, by far the most radiant in the room.” 

You felt yourself become tongue-tied, looking away bashfully. “Thank you, Coriolanus,” was all you could manage to say. You wanted to compliment him as well but you feared that if you started now the praise would never stop.

Felix, as always, inserted himself into your conversation with Coriolanus. “Have you tried the lamb? It’s scandalous.” He said as he tossed another piece into his mouth. 

“Only the vulgar eat with their fingers, Felix. Did daddy not teach you manners?” Festus scoffed.

“Maybe he would’ve if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix countered with a smug grin.

You rolled your eyes and swatted his arm gently. “Felix, have some modesty.” You urged. Felix was often boastful about his father, as well as his expansive wealth. You found it revolting how egotistical he was. You had to remind yourself, this was a smart match. Your family had known Felix’s family for years. You were practically raised to end up together long-term. 

“Anyway, speaking of Plinth, take a look at Sejanus,” Felix said, jutting his chin to the Plinth family as they entered. “How can someone from such an elite family have such a detestable child?”

This time you pinched his arm. “Felix.” You admonished. You were embarrassed to even be standing next to him at this point. Coriolanus’s eyes darted between you and your boyfriend. It wasn’t uncommon for you to argue in front of others. It was clear that he, and many others, found it amusing. 

“Darling, you can’t argue with facts. Sejanus is simply not cut out for the Capitol lifestyle.” Felix responded with a shrug.

“If I have to hear one more word about how much he hates the games, I’ll put him in the arena myself,” Festus muttered. 

You gingerly removed Felix’s hand from your waist. “I’m going to find my seat.” You couldn’t stand to be around them when they spoke like this.

The Reaping continued and much to everyone’s discontent, the Plinth prize was going to be offered through unconventional means. The following few days at the Academy were tense. All of the mentors were on edge, for once, you were grateful that you weren’t in the top twenty-four of seniors at the Academy. What’s more, Felix was being especially irritable with you. You glared at your boyfriend as you watched him pair up with Festus for the Communications project that Professor Click had assigned. “Felix, you always pair up with me.” You argued.

“No offense dear but I need to make sure I get a perfect score on this assignment,” Felix said as he moved to sit beside Festus. 

You furrowed your brows as you glared at him. It wasn’t the first time that Felix had discredited your academic abilities. 

Coriolanus sat beside you, setting his notes down on the desk. “Don’t pay him any attention. I’ll work with you.” He said. 

Your eyes lit up as he took a seat beside you. “Oh Coryo, you don’t have to do that.” You chuckled softly.

“No I want to, I know we have differing opinions regarding the Districts, maybe you have some insight for me. May I?” He asked, gesturing to your notes.

“Of course.” You said with a shy smile. You weren’t used to many others caring for your opinion about the Districts, other than Sejanus naturally. 

Coriolanus’s eyes darted across the page, his brows contorted with concentration. You leaned over his shoulder. “I was thinking about ways to build rapport with tributes. I know I’m not a mentor but I was thinking…maybe offering them food and water could help. Maybe giving the sick ones medicine as well…Felix’s tribute has been showing signs of tuberculosis so that’s where I got the idea.”

Coriolanus looked over at you with a pleased smile. “That’s quite kind of you. You’re right, it would be a good way to establish relationships with tributes,” he paused for a moment, “such a smart girl.” He praised. You felt your cheeks blaze as he complimented you. It was an unfamiliar experience, you were used to heaping praise on Felix to keep him content however he rarely returned the favor. He chuckled at your reaction as he passed your notes back to you.  “Such a pretty sight too.”

You looked away shyly. “Coriolanus stop flattering me so much, I’ll get an ego.”

“Hm, like your boyfriend?” He asked, tilting his head with a teasing smile. You couldn’t deny that Felix had an ego the size of Panem itself. You looked over your shoulder at Felix and Festus who were animatedly discussing tactics to make tributes fight harder in the arena.

“No one could match that.” You giggled softly.

Coriolanus started brainstorming ideas, jotting them down on paper in his exquisite penmanship. “Why do you even stay with him?” He asked, moving a little closer to you, his leg now brushing against yours.

“He’s a family friend. It’s a smart match.” You said with a shrug. You couldn’t tell if you were saying it like that to remind yourself or to simply inform Coriolanus. You found yourself finding your boyfriend insufferable as of late. It almost wasn’t worth it to stay but you knew your family wanted you to be with Felix long term. 

“A smart match until he drives you insane.” Coriolanus jested. He set down his fountain pen and placed a hand on your knee. You felt your stomach flutter in response to the simple gesture. “As your friend, I just want to look out for you. Make sure you’re making the right decisions. To make sure you’re being treated well.”

You’re gaze darted between his grip on your knee to his face. “What are you implying?” 

Coriolanus shook his head with a short laugh. “Surely you aren’t so naive, darling.” He inched his hand further up your thigh. You looked around anxiously, worried that someone would catch wind of what was happening. However, everyone (including your boyfriend) was working diligently on their projects. “Tell me that I’m overstepping and I’ll stop” He whispered. 

“How long have you been wanting to do this?” You asked softly.

“I must admit I hadn’t given it much thought…until I saw you on Felix’s arm at the beginning of the year.” His fingertips fiddled with the hem of your skirt. “But I’ve always found you lovely.”

You looked up at him through your lashes. “I really shouldn’t…”

Coriolanus glanced at the clock on the wall and slowly pulled his hand away from your thigh. “Class is nearly over. How about this,” he gripped your chin affectionately, making sure he had your full attention, “I’ll come over this evening to work on the project. I’ll leave it up to you if you want to pursue this.”

You already felt a surge of anticipation, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought. “Yes, I’d like that.” You said breathlessly. 

“That’s my girl,” Coriolanus said affectionately. 

As soon as your chauffeur brought you home, you immediately started cleaning your room. Stowing most of your belongings in your closet naturally, you were on a time crunch after all. You rummaged through your dresser trying to find something to wear. You settled on a tight corduroy skirt with a zipper in the front (easy access) with a simple blouse paired with it. You felt your heart stutter when the doorbell rang throughout your family’s stately home. You dashed through the halls and down the stairs of the foyer. You knew it was wrong, it was so incredibly wrong yet it felt so right. You opened the door with a smile. “Coriolanus.” You said with a little nod as you took in his features. His figure was highlighted by the sunset. His curls were contentiously set in place. He was wearing the Academy uniform trousers and button-up but ditched the blazer. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up his forearms and something about that look made you nearly melt on the spot. 

“Good evening darling.” He greeted with a nod. His eyes raked up and down your form, taking in every curve and feature. “You look stunning, is this all for me?” He chuckled as he strode into the foyer. 

“I wanted to look good for you.” You admitted shyly. 

He smirked as he linked his arm with yours. “You look ravishing regardless of what you wear.” 

You looked away bashfully as you led him to your room. “You always know what to say to get me all flustered.” You giggled as you opened the door. 

He followed you in and closed the door, locking it behind him. “Have you given what I said any thought?” He asked as he approached you.

You nodded slowly. “I have,” you stepped closer to him and looked up at him, “I don’t just want to work on our project tonight.” You said coyly. 

Coriolanus snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against him. “And what else do you want tonight, hm?”

“Coryo, don’t make me say it.” You looked away embarrassedly. Your eyes widened as Coriolanus grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him again.

“Be a good girl and use your words.” You felt your breath catch at his order. “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” 

You nodded eagerly. “Y-Yes.” You pawed at his torso as you gazed up at him longingly. “I want you to make me feel good.” You said breathily. 

Coriolanus ran a hand through your hair to relax you. “Good job, darling. Already being so good for me.” He chuckled. He backed you up until you sat at the edge of your bed. “Tell me how to make you feel good.”You felt your face flush. You weren’t sure how to answer his question. With Felix, you always did whatever he wanted; he never asked for your input usually. Coriolanus arched a brow as he looked down at you. “Has your boyfriend ever made you come before?”

“No.” You mumbled. He ran his fingers through your hair again and sank to his knees in front of you. 

“What a pity,” he said as he rubbed your thighs, “you must be so pent up then, hm?” He teased as he toyed with the zipper of your skirt. He pulled his hand away and ran a hand up your torso to your chest. “Can’t believe he didn’t want to make such a pretty girl come.” He mused as he slowly started to unbutton your blouse. “I personally don’t think I’ll be able to stop til your shaking and begging me to fuck you.” He ran a hand up your skirt once he unbuttoned your shirt, his fingers brushing against your inner thigh.

You let out a little gasp as you looked down at him. His eyes were glazed over with lust as he gazed up at you. “Coryo, please!” You begged. 

He shook his head and chuckled. “So impatient.” He unzipped your skirt and tugged it off, tossing it aside. You shrugged your blouse off, blushing as you realized that you were now sitting in front of him in skimpy white lingerie while he was still fully clothed. You were about to complain but all grievances were whisked away as he suddenly moved and slotted his knee between your thighs, pushing you back against the mattress as he did. You let out a whimper as he started pressing kisses along your neck. “Such pretty sounds, I want to hear more.” He whispered huskily. A moan erupted from your throat as he started sucking on your neck, leaving a trail of marks down your neck to the tops of your breasts. You start grinding your lightly clothed core against his knee. He snickered as your hips moved, desperate to get some form of friction. He tipped your chin up and kissed you forcefully, hands roaming your curves as he did. Your breath hitched as he pulled away briefly to start unbuttoning his shirt. He was lean but toned, what you expected of him. He tossed his shirt aside as he pulled away. You nearly whined in protest but he grabbed your legs and pulled you to the edge of the bed once more. 

You giggled as he tugged your panties and put them in his pocket. “What, you plan on keeping them?” 

Coriolanus chuckled as he knelt in front of you again. “I’m keeping them there in case I have to shove them in your mouth from screaming too loud.”

You felt your face flush crimson as he teased you. You arched your back as you felt him brush his fingers across your entrance, coating his fingers with your juices. “So wet for me…I wouldn’t be surprised if my fingers just,” he slowly pushed his digits into your pussy, “slipped right in.” He mused smugly. You squeezed your eyes shut as he pumped his fingers languidly. You gripped the sheets beneath you as you moaned. Your eyes rolled back as he buried his face between your thighs and sucked on your bundle of nerves. He flicked his tongue over it causing your body to jolt. You squeezed your thighs together around his head, weaving your fingers in his hair. He groaned, seeming to savor every time you’d buck your hips and arch your back, soundlessly pleading for more.

“Coryo, oh god, Coryo, yes!” You shrieked, gripping desperately at his curls. Damn, he was good, better than your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend could ever dream of. He had you on the brink of seeing stars as he kept his fingers at a steady pace. “Coryo, I’m going to—oh fuck—you’re gonna make me—” Before you could finish you let out a broken moan as you clenched around his fingers, drenching them in your juices as you came hard. You frantically tried to pull him away as he kept fingering you. “’s too much Coryo.” You gasped. 

He pulled his face away but continued the pace of his digits. “You can give me one more before I fuck you, I know you can.” You whimpered as he crooked his fingers, rubbing that special spot just right. You were teetering on the edge once again, panting and moaning his name like some sort of corrupt prayer. He reached and wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to give you that high you were chasing. You pulsed around his fingers again, arching your back as you climaxed. You were gasping for breath as he pulled his digits from you, slowly. He moved his hand from your neck, placing it on your thigh and giving you an affectionate pat. “Such a good girl. I knew you could do it.” He praised. He licked your arousal from his fingers while gazing down at you. 

You reached up and ran your fingers down his torso. “Please, Coryo, please I need you to fuck me.” You begged pathetically. He gripped your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss as he unzipped his trousers. He took your panties out of his pocket and set them on the bed, just in case he needed to shut you up.

“Such a pretty slut for me aren’t you?” He teased, pushing you back into the mattress. 

You giggled and nodded, still dazed from the bliss you felt moments ago. Your eyes settled on his cock, the red tip already leaking precum. “Please, Coryo, I wanna make you feel good.” 

He spread your legs further apart as he slowly pushed into you, groaning as he bottomed out. “Fuck, you're so wet.” Your eyes rolled back as he set a brutal pace. “Who made you this wet? Who do you belong to?” He hissed. 

“Y-You, I’m all yours Coryo.” You moaned, relishing every thrust even more than the last. You let out a squeal as he grabbed your hips, forcing you to take him fully each time he rutted his hips to meet yours. Fuck he was rough and you loved it. You loved being used by him. It was as if your body was made for him and him alone. 

You reached a hand in between your thighs, rubbing your clit as he fucked you. Your moans grew louder and louder as you repeated his name. He grabbed your panties and shoved them into your mouth. It was degrading, humiliating even but god it felt so good. You felt the coil in your body snap again as you came undone. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. You were clenching around him, milking him for all he was worth as you let out muffled screams of pleasure. 

Coriolanus let out a grunt as he suddenly stilled and jerked inside you, coating your walls with his cum. He leaned into you, panting as he desperately tried to catch his breath. He slowly pulled out of you and lay beside you. He stroked your hair softly as he stared at you. His gaze was as if he was trying to commit every part of you to memory. “You are,” he paused as he brushed his fingertips over the marks he had left on your neck, “perfection in every sense of the word.” 

You giggled breathlessly. “So are you Coryo.”

He sighed as he raked a hand through his hair and sat up on the edge of the bed. “What are you going to tell Ravinstill?” He chuckled.

“That I found someone better in every way.” You chuckled, moving to wrap your arms around his torso. You looked up at him, cocking your head. “We still have to finish our project don’t we?” You grumbled.

He chuckled and nodded. “Yes, darling, we do. I’ll do the majority of it; you just lay there and look pretty.”

[vivalarevolution]

𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻

Dark-Obsessive Neteyam x Reader

Request: „I love your works, and I am wondering if you could write dark-angst fic abt neteyam (aged-up obv). Maybe in a scenario where the reader does not like neteyam/sees him as a friend and likes someone else, which makes him jealous. It doesn't have to be nsfw, but I think it will be very fitting considering the theme of the story.‟

A/N: I have a weakness for dark characters. That's why when I was writing this request I couldn't resist and added a few things along with little changes, going beyond the content I was given from anon.

Not my best work but still I hope you will enjoy reading it and that you will like it. Remember, english is not my native language, grammatical errors will or may occur. Works also contains smut , and that's why please minors do not interact with it.

*Some characters have been aged up

She felt it, felt his burning gaze on every inch of her body. No matter where she moved, no matter how she bent, his eyes followed her ,devouring her. This sent a wave of shivers down her spine which spread all the way to her toes.

And when a pair of hands slid subtly over her ribs, the gaze on her body was no longer devouring, but burning, causing her a pain she couldn't forget.

-Your body is right here , with me. But where is your mind tìyawn? - a man asked her, tickling her earlobe with the air that escaped from his mouth.

-My mind is here as well , do not doubt it - she replied, placing her hand on his chest, when her eyes wander over his blue skin and the black tattoos that decorated it.

-Are you lying to your future Olo'eyktan? - he asked, cupping her chin in three large fingers, stroking the soft skin of her cheeks, his thumb tracing her full, kissable lips.

-I would never lie to you, Aonung - she stated quietly, grabbing his wrist, squeezing it gently.

-Yet you're avoiding telling me the truth - metkayina man said, trying to find the answer in her onyx pupils, which had dilated, now resembling a dark night sky that decorated her irises.

Suddenly, the eyes that had been staring at her disappeared, causing her skin to be covered with a long-forgotten coldness.

-There is nothing I am hiding from you - said the woman, involuntarily looking away towards the place where the one who had been watching her every move had recently stood.

But after her words, the person she was looking for so desperately was suddenly behind her, as if summoned. Hiding her silhouette with his massive body ,placing a large, rough hand on her hip, giving her the impression of a silent and sick announcement that she belonged to him, that she was his property.

-I hope I didn't interrupt anything important - he said politely, so politely that it almost sounded like a lie that hide his true intentions.

-No ,of course not my Olo'eyktan - the woman replied immediately, avoiding the gaze of both men.

In response, Neteyam placed two fingers under her jaw, forcing her to look into his golden eyes, which screamed one word - liar.

-Good , very good...in that case, I would like to talk to you - he announced, speaking to her as if they were alone, even though they were surrounded by a sea of ​​people -...privately - he added, and his voice became lower, heavier, almost threatening.

She was unable to agree or refuse before the same hand that held her waist pulled her towards its owner, making her surrender and accept that she was trapped in a snare that was impossible to escape.

But even if she tried to escape, she knew she couldn't do it. She was too weak to disobey, too weak to oppose, and she hated how powerless she had become.

-Neteyam... - she whispered and almost immediately his attention focused on her -...you have to stop. I am begging you.

The man approached her, running his nose over the soft skin of her cheeks, inhaling her intoxicating scent that made him just want to be closer to her.

-I don't understand what you're talking about yawntutsyìp - he said, running his fingertips along her ribs and collarbones, stopping at the crook of her neck.

-My heart doesn't belong to you. I am not yours - the young woman said suddenly - I have never been Neteyam... and I never will be. 

Her words made the hand around her neck tighten, not to choke her, but to give her a silent warning.

-Oh, but you are - he growled low in her ear - You are mine, you belong to me Y/n. No one else can have you - his words became more possessive, more dangerous - You said it yourself, I am your Olo'eyktan - he whispered, pressing his body against hers - That makes you my possession.

Y/n let her body go limp.

My possession echoed in her head, and the dark thoughts that had crept into her mind so long ago suddenly became the reality that stood right before her eyes.

-Whatever you feel for me, these emotions. They are dark, poisoned. They are deadly - she noticed, closing her eyes after a moment when in response Neteyam only wrapped his other hand around her figure, pulling her closer to him, so close that the warmth of their skins overlapped - This is not what love should look like.

The man looked straight at her.

-How do you know what love looks like? - he asked, and the hand that was holding her throat found itself on her jaw, holding her head in place - How do you know what my love looks like if you never let me show it to you? You never try to take it, to feel, to truly feel what my love for you feels like.

-If this is what your love is supposed to look like, then I don't want it - the young woman announced, looking directly into his golden eyes, which became shadowy, no longer hiding the darkness that smoldered deep inside men -Your love is like ivy that wraps around me and suffocates me every time I try to move, tightening more and more, so much so that it breaks my bones. This's what your love looks like.

- I'll show you what my love looks like - he growled , suddenly attacking her neck with his fangs , which almost immediately penetrated her skin , creating a bloody mark , that made a silent scream fell out of her mouth , and a shadow of tears appeared in her eyes.

After that Olo'eyktan moved away from her body , watching with a kind of pride what he had done , moments later pushing her against a tree, immediately hovering over her small body ,like a predator who had managed to capture its prey.

His hands touched her with extraordinary precision, giving the impression that he was everywhere, not allowing even one patch of Y/n skin to be untouched. Her shoulders , her hands , her ribs , her breasts , her hips , her thighs. His fingertips left behind a burning sensation that, instead of dying out like a barely smoldering flame, lasted like a wildfire that consumed not only her body but also her mind.

His lips glided over her soft skin , going lower and lower with each kiss , which left a wet trail and chills behind. Neteyam stopped only when he could taste her sweet arousal on his tongue , soaking her inner thighs and loincloth . Her material teased the skin of his face , which found its place on her womanhood. Therefore, his hands , still roaming over her body , found their place on her hips , just above the belt that held her lower garment , after a moment ripping it with great force , tearing it almost to pieces.

-No...no , Neteyam - she whispered, trying to push him away, even though her body trembled with growing excitement that she could not accept.

-Stop fighting oeyä yawne- he muttered, looking at her out of the corner of his eye as his lips brushed her pubic bone, coming dangerously close to her clitoris, which was swollen and wet, begging to be touched - Just give in -he whispered , before his tongue sank between her puffy folds ,tasting her as if she were the sweetest of fruits.

The woman moaned , and her body involuntarily went limp , now being poised by the man in front of her , feasting between her legs , devouring her and making her mind grow emptier and emptier , no matter how much she tried to resist it . Not when his lips roamed over her womanhood , touching her so well, as if he knew her better than she knew herself , which terrified her as much as it thrilled her.

-No...no...oh please stop...I can't - she babbled , as her own body began to refuse to obey her.

But he continued his assault , slurping her juices with great greed , making her orgasm approach uncontrollably fast , too fast . Y/n tried desperately to push Neteyam away from her , but he only clung to her more , lining his tongue deep into her canal , teasing her tight gummy walls , making stars appear before her eyes, while the lower part of the man's face was covered with a transparent liquid.

The young woman let her head drop involuntarily. Her eyes closed again and again , and her mind became completely foggy , unable to think, unable to escape.

-This is what my love for you is , my sweet syulang - he said tenderly , capturing her heated cheek in his large hand - You saw it , you wanted it , you needed it - he announced in a dark tone of voice , kissing the tears that began to run down her face - You truly wanted it , your truly wanted to be mine...forever - he whispered , encircling her tired body with his arms , drawing her toward him , nestling her body into his.

And Y/n allowed him to do so. She allowed him to kiss the crown of her head, she allowed him to bring their kuru together, making them into a unity that even though it wasn't supposed to exist had just been born, finally making her his. Truly his. Forever.

[sebadztian]

Sebastian has gone from this sarcastic demon who'd make fun and mock Ciel at every turn.

To this devoted butler who truly believes that his young master is the one true earl.

The lie has truly become the truth...

Speaking of... Let's talk a bit about Seb's design, shall we?

His hair is getting shorter. Guess he finally got that haircut that he was talking about in the beginning of the manga, eh? And his face is rounder, which makes him look even younger.

Wonder how a demon who hasn't changed for centuries (how did Ciel even know that??) could look so different...

Yana did mention that she can't settle on Sebastian's look. But once again, I'm amazed at how much her artstyle has developed over the years as she discovered how she wants everyone to look (who knows, Bard & Mey might look different than the last time we saw them when we see them again after this Brighton arc).

I'm so excited for the Brighton arc and - to borrow Earl Phantomhive's words - for their return match.

Brighton is going to be epic!

(Okay, I'm biased, but hey...)

[prettyshinnythings]

Resurrection Chapter 3

pairings: Sauron x Reader, Adar x reader

Warnings: This is for readers 18+. This chapter contains smut and language. Please do not read if you're under 18. Idk if this is something I'm going to continue. It's just an idea that I had, but if people like it and want to read more I would love to continue it!

This is my first fic on this blog.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three:

Silence hung in the room around us. 

Tension so thick that you could cut it with a sword. 

Suddenly everything felt wrong. As if my entire being had been a lie up to this point. With furrowed brows, I stare back at Adar. I am unable to breathe for a moment as if his truth had sucked the life out of me. Suddenly every interaction we had was tainted. Every kiss, every I love you, and every promise was ruined. My head shakes in protest as I remember that I need to breathe to live. With a sharp gasp, I pull back, my feet carrying me backward until I am standing right beside Halbrand. 

“So, was it all a lie? You never loved me? You kept me like a prized pig because you hate Sauron that much?”

The look that flickers across Adar’s face is undetectable for a moment. There is a rage burning in his eyes as he contemplates what to do with me next. The facade had been broken in one fell swoop. The man I thought had loved me glances between both Halbrand and I, a twisted look of amusement pulling at the corner of his lips. 

“My dear, do not compare yourself to a prized pig. Not when I have never tasted a cunt as sweet as yours.” 

I feel my stomach churn at the words, disturbed by how cheap I suddenly felt. I had fallen for every word, every action of this man. I thought it was love, but it was all a lie. He did not love me. He loved the idea of how he could get revenge for what Sauron had done to him. Beside me Halbrand strains against the chain around his neck, he growls in frustration at Adar’s words. I look at the king of the Southlands, shocked that he appeared to be offended by the words of his captor. 

“Do not speak of  her like that.”

Halbrand wants to say more and I can see it all over his face, but he holds himself back the moment his green eyes meet mine. He notes the tears that have formed in my eyes. The way that my body is shaken by the awful truth I have just learned. A chuckle escapes Adar, his eyes calculating as I force my gaze back to his. 

“I see our dear (y/n) has made quite the impression on you, Your Majesty. I can understand why, she is beguiling to be sure. And you would not believe how pretty she sounds when your cock is buried deep inside of her. When you push her to her peak before she comes undone around you. It is beautiful, just as she is.”

I swallow hard, my jaw clenched. 

“Enough of this. Let him go Adar. He has told you what he knows.” 

My voice comes out in an unsure whisper as I feel the tension in the space around us growing worse with each passing moment. To my side, Halbrand becomes more ravenous with each goated word that passes Adar’s lips. His body strains against the chains, his eyes darker, and his body more tense. I did not know why he cared for what Adar said of me, but I appreciated the anguish that found his face. 

As if I somehow meant more to him than I had ever meant to Adar. 

“When I get out of these chains I will kill you.” 

He rasps, his teeth clenched as his words come out in a gruff threat. If Adar cares for the threat he does not show it as he merely nods. 

“(y/n) come here. Let us continue this conversation from the privacy of our tent.” 

Adar’s arm stretched out to me, waiting for me to comply as I always had, but I stood still. I remain unmoving as I peer back at the man I had thought I loved, the man who had just spoken about me like a piece of meat he enjoyed having his way with. 

As if I was only an object. 

“Let me leave. I beg of you, let me leave. I cannot stand the thought of sharing another moment with you. Another second of the lie you have created for me to live. I want to be free of you.” 

My voice is the furthest thing from confident as I say this. Each word is a mere murmur that delicately falls from my lips. The delicate nature of my wording completely contrasts with the burning rage that enters Adar’s face. Never had I denied him. In our years together I had always done whatever he wanted without question. All because I had thought he cared for me. All because I had thought we shared a mutual love and respect for one another. But now that I knew that was not true, I could not pretend away the revelations that had come to pass. 

His body trembles as he takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between us. I can tell he fully intends to manhandle me into doing what he wants, but the moment that his hand reaches for mine, our guest’s voice stalls his actions. 

“Now Lord Father, you would not want to harm (y/n) would you? If Sauron found out what you had done to her, he would do unimaginable things to your children. Think about it, if you want the best chance for your children, you ought to spare the one person Sauron loves above all else.” 

Halbrand’s voice is far calmer than it had been, but it stops Adar in his tracks. Mere inches from my face, my false lover stands frozen before contemplating the king’s words carefully. For a moment I fear that Adar will not care enough to unhand me, but after a few moments more of thought he sighs. His hand lets go of mine and he takes a few steps backwards. He looks me over with careful consideration before nodding. 

“Pack your things…”

He growls, eyes glancing past me to focus on Halbrand. Acting as if I am not there. 

“... I have a few more questions I would like to ask your king about. After that, you leave with him. Since he seems so fond of you, you can be his burden to bear.”

–

I pack the few things that I own in a single bag and before I know it, Halbrand is helping me up onto his horse. He sits behind me, arms caging me in as he grabs the reins. Adar had given him my horse, Elain, to take with us on our journey. One last piece of me he wanted to rid his camp of before letting us depart. It is not until we are a good enough distance away that I hear a scream coming from the camp, followed by an amused chuckle from Halbrand behind me. For a moment I do not understand what has amused him so, not until he whispers in my ear. 

“Waldreg just got what he deserved. I swear to you, that in time, Adar will get his too.” 

A shiver moves up my spine at his threat… No… 

A promise. 

Cautiously, I glance over my shoulder and meet the eyes of the Southlander. With wide eyes I allow myself to fully study his handsome face in the sunlight. I do not think I have ever seen a face so beautiful before today. And it was not only his appearance that struck me but something deeper than that. As I’d observed before, something about him reminded me of the man from my dream… 

Wrong, my memory that had awoken me. 

“Thank you for being kind to me, your majesty. You did not have to defend me to Adar, but you did and I am grateful.” 

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, a genuine smile that only makes him feel all the more familiar to me. I feel my cheeks redden and I force myself to look away from him. Suddenly I feel like a girl with a silly crush on her knight in shining armor. Mentally I remind myself that is exactly how I had once felt about Adar. 

Sensing my shyness, Halbrand’s chest presses firmly along my back shielding me as the wind picks up. The warmth of his body is comforting in the wake of the wind and I find myself hoping that where he takes us next is far enough away that I get to sit like this with him for a prolonged period of time. This comfort differed from the false comfort I had felt with Adar. This was genuine. 

Like coming home after years of wandering aimlessly. 

We traveled along winding roads, open fields, and small towns. We traveled from the light of the morning until the darkness slowly descended across the land. Eventually, we end up in the forest, near a cottage that seemed abandoned from the outside. 

“We will rest here for the night.”

He whispers from behind me, his lips on my neck. My breathing hitches at the action, the nerves all over my body stand on end in anticipation. Halbrand guides Elain towards the house, deciding the siding fence would be a sufficient place to tie my horse overnight. He gets off of Elain and glances up at me, his hands find my body as he helps me off of my horse. My feet are planted on the ground for only a moment before his heated stare knocks the wind out of me. Our eyes lock and I realize how much taller he is than I am. I had always been rather short for an elf (a mere five foot, nothing) and here he was standing at least six, two. He has me boxed in, with my back touching the side of my horse and suddenly I realize that I am all alone out here with a man I did not know. Even if something about him felt familiar. 

What if the Devil I knew was safer than the Devil I did not know?

The thought plagues me as I pull my eyes from him, focusing on his chest. 

“Thank you for helping me down.” 

I breathe the words into existence, but his eyes are too focused on my lips to truly pay attention to what they have said. 

“You were always so precious to me. Always too sweet and kind in contrast to me. My beautiful little queen who would rule over her people with kindness and compassion. A quality I could only show to one person, you, (y/n).”

There’s a roughness to his voice when he speaks, a deep need lacing itself in every syllable. An intoxicating sound to be sure. A sound that I knew I had heard once before. I could feel it in my heart, the unmistakable fact that this person before me was only familiar because he and Marion were one and the same. They had to be.

“Marion?”

I whimper as he leans in closer, his lips mere inches from mine. Slowly his hands find my waist as he pulls me in against him. I had not realized how large his hands were until they were on me, grounding me in place. A gasp escapes me, but the gasp is not born of pain, but deep-rooted pleasure. 

“I have had many names, Sweetling, but only that name is for you to say…”

He pauses, his lips moving against mine. The kiss starts slower than the kiss we had shared earlier. As though he is memorizing my lips. As though he is afraid he will never feel them against him again. My hands shake as I place them over his, willing him to pull me in closer to him. So close we are almost molded together. A dark chuckle escapes him when he feels that I am as in need of him as he is of me. 

“... That name is only for you to moan. The only name you will ever bind yourself to from this day forward.”

His words strike a cord deep within me when he says this. His tone is dark and possessive, but I do not care. I want every inch of me to be a part of him. Just as it had been an age ago. The memory I had this morning reminded me of that unfaltering love that I had once known. Having him return to me was all that mattered now. 

“I am sorry…” 

I whimper through a hazy whimper as his lips descend down onto my neck. He sucks at my skin so softly but with a deep intent to mark me as his own. No one would ever mistake me for anyone else’s. 

Never again. 

“... I never meant for anyone else to have me like this. I never meant to confuse my feelings and mutate those emotions into a falsity. I did not remember.”

I mean the words that fall from my lips. I was sorry. I was so sorry that Adar had taken my innocence in this life. That I had been defiled by someone who did not care for me as my dear Marion had. Something in my heart told me that, in my previous life, I had only ever given myself to Marion. But now, I was tainted. I was spoiled goods. All because I remained in the dark for so long. 

My words still his actions for a moment, his lips unlatching from my skin. For a moment he peers up at me with a look of raw desire. His gaze is heated, glossed over with want as his hands descend down my body. Slowly feeling every curve of my body, checking to see if I was still sculpted the way that he remembered. 

“You do not need to apologize to me, my love. It is Adar who will pay. He knew exactly what he was doing when he found you. He knew exactly how to exploit you and use you for his own desires. Your resurrection has taken a lot from you my love, but it has not changed the way that I feel for you.” 

I can feel my heart skip a beat when he says this. When I see the look in his eyes as he stares back at me. I had heard tales of Sauron and his deception, but I could feel that he was not deceiving me at this moment. The words he said were true and I could feel it. As though our souls were connected as one. 

I do not wait for him to make another move before I guide my lips to meet his once more. This time my touch is frantic as though I could not get enough of him. A chuckle brushes past his lips at my eagerness. 

“Sweetling, do not fret. We will have all of the time we need.” 

Protest moves within me, I can feel desire pooling in my stomach, the familiar knot of desire finding a home deep in my aching sex. I did not want to wait for him to be inside of me. 

I need him inside of me now. 

I run my hands through his hair the second he deepens the kiss. Again, I am eager to feel him beneath my fingertips. I cannot wait a second longer. 

“Take me inside and fuck me, Marion. P-Please do not make me wait a second longer.”

My words reek of the desperation I so desperately feel. I should be ashamed of being so desperate and vocal about that desperation, but I cannot bring myself to care at this moment. No, we had been torn apart for long enough. We deserved to be together once more. He does not respond to my words verbally. Only a deep guttural growl escapes him as his hands move lower along my body until he reaches my legs. He hoists me up so I can wrap my legs around his torso, holding me tightly while he moves us away from my horse to the front door of the cottage. I am so engulfed in him that I do not pay attention as he carries us inside and locks the door behind him once we are safely tucked away. A fire lights itself in the fireplace, illuminating our shadows along the walls of the cottage. 

“I am going to fuck you so deeply that you forget that you ever had anyone other than me in this life. You will forget all pleasures of the flesh you thought you knew and realize that only I can give you what your body desires.” 

He rasps the words when he breaks the kiss, his green eyes finding mine in the shadows. His words alone make me wet. My body was aching for him with a want that I had never thought possible. He guides our bodies to a long deserted couch that had been sitting in front of the fireplace, his body hovering over mine as he contemplates where he wants to start with me first. Lightly, his hands trace up the fine silk of the dress I had interrogated him in earlier. 

A lifetime ago it seemed.

The fabric ghosts along my legs, lifting higher and higher along my body until he has it wrapped around my waist. It is only then that he realizes my glistening cunt is completely exposed for his viewing pleasure. 

“You naughty minx, not wearing any undergarments. Had I known this earlier, I would not have been able to wait until now to touch you.”

I gasp as his lips meet mine once more. This kiss is a lighter one, thoughtful and careful. A moan escapes me when I feel his fingers slowly tracing the inside of my thighs. The tops of his fingers draw small circles on my thighs, deliberate strokes that set my body on fire. I can feel his fingertips as they move up my thighs, closer to where I needed him most. It is only once he has reached my soaked sex that he pulls back to look at me, a smirk finding his lips as he watches my face closely. 

“I want to memorize your face as I sink my fingers inside of you for the first time after all of these years…”

His voice drifts while he slowly inserts his index finger in between my soaked folds. His smirk grows as he watches my face, noting the way my lips part and the small mewl that escapes me. The calluses on his fingers created a friction that felt unlike anything I had ever felt before. 

“... Does my sweetling feel good?”

He asks while his thumb slowly begins to stroke my clit. He looks at me with fascination as my hips buck up voluntarily. If I had wanted to play hard to get, my body would have betrayed me in an instant. Being touched by him made me lose all control of my body. All I could do was lay there wanting to see what he would do next. 

“You have power over my flesh in the most sinful way.”

I rasp. He adds a second finger, the walls of my cunt seeming to be greedy for more. I watch helplessly as he pumps his fingers inside of me at a painstakingly slow pace. His motions only picked up long enough for my walls to start to clench around him before slowing back down

He wanted to prolong this as long as possible. 

“From this day forward, I am the only one who has power over your flesh. Never again shall you know another. You are mine and I am yours.”

He asks, pumping faster than before. My head feels as if it is spinning while doing these quick, unrelenting motions. Whatever prolonging I had thought he wanted to do seemed to become nonexistent. He pushed his fingers inside of me deeper and quicker until I knew that I could no longer hold back. My eyes fill with tears as my orgasm threatens to spill over. Cautiously, my eyes seek his permission. Silently, they beg him to let me fall apart on his fingers. For a moment I am unsure if he will let me. There’s a hint of mischief in his eyes. A quiet pondering of whether or not he should torture me further, but it seems mercy finds him as he nods. Silently he wills my body over the edge, my head sinks further into the cushion beneath me, my back arching off of the couch as my walls flutter around his fingertips, coating them in cum. 

A labored moan falls from me as my body starts to come down from its high. The fogginess of my mind overtakes me, the shadows in the room blurring in and out of focus. 

Casually he stands up from the couch, eyes focusing on me as he slowly starts to discard pieces of clothing. I lay there unmoving with a hungry gaze, realizing he was about to fuck me with his cock this time. He rids himself of each piece of clothing until he stands before me naked. My eyes flick down to his cock and I wonder how he will ever fit inside of me. 

Too big.

With a few painfully calculated moves forward he returns to me, his body resuming the position he’d been in before. He uses one hand to prop himself up and the other to grab the front of my dress. The lower cut of the fabric had caught his attention this morning. However, unlike this morning, he doesn’t use any care as he touches me. Instead, he reaches forward and starts to rip the dress from the front end. He rips the fabric down my body until the fabric meets where he had bunched it up at my waist. Only then does he place his lips at my diaphragm, mumbling against my skin.

“I am going to burn this dress. All traces of Adar’s gifts are to be eradicated from your body.”

With his lips still firmly pressed against my diaphragm, he continues to tear the fabric until it has completely torn into two. 

It is only once he has fully torn open the fabric that he starts to kiss along my body. Moving further and further up as he makes his way from my diaphragm, through the valley of my breasts, over my collarbone, and up to my lips. Once he reaches my lips he gives me another all-consuming deepened kiss. His tongue met mine in a battle of wills. I do not fight it, I allow him to consume me, to dominate me without a second thought. He uses this as a distraction as he lines the tip of his cock with my re-soaked cunt. He pushes the tip in slightly, my breathing hitching. 

Too big. 

I think again.

“Do not fret my sweetling, my cock is made for you. I will fit. Like a piece of a puzzle sliding into place.” 

Reading my mind, I feel him slide in a bit deeper. A gasp escapes me as my hands find either side of his face, our eyes locking together as he slides in the rest of the way. He does not move once he is inside of me fully. Instead, he opts to allow my body the time to adjust. 

“Marion, Halbrand… Sauron…”

His names fall from my lips breathlessly. 

“... I am yours. Yours to love, yours to hate, yours to taste, yours to ruin, and yours to corrupt. Whatever you decide to do with me from this day forward I will follow. To the end of time.”

An undetectable look washes over his face at my proclamation. A moment of allowing my words to slowly sink in. I can see it in his eyes though, satisfaction that I have bound myself to him in words. His head tilts to the side as he pulls out a knife that appeared to be conjured out of nowhere. 

“Bind yourself to me (y/n). Bind your blood with mine and we shall forever be as one. This is a marriage of two souls destined to be together. Souls that will always find each other in this age and the next for all of eternity.” 

The heat of the moment and the look in his eyes are something I know that I would never be able to live without again. I think back to the dream I had woken from this morning, my memory of us from before we had been taken from each other. I had been willing to bind myself to him then and I was willing to do so now. 

More than ever before.

I nod and wordlessly agree to be bound, pulling my hands from his face, I offer up his choice in whichever palm he wants to cut. His eyes flick from my palm to my face, licking his lips before making his choice. Grabbing my right hand, he slices along the middle of my palm. Blood rises to the surface of my flesh within seconds, a sight that causes his eyes to darken. The pain does not bother me nearly as much as it should have. The stinging is more uncomfortable than anything else. 

I watch him closely while he hands my uncut hand the knife. 

“Cut me (y/n) only then can we be bound.”

In hesitation, my uncut hand grasps the handle of the knife, looking at him in quiet reassurance before slicing his hand the way he had sliced mine. His blood is darker than mine, pitch black, a darkness that I had never known before. But that does not scare me, it entices me. I toss the knife onto the ground beside the couch before allowing his bloodied hand to grab mine. It is only then that he takes hold of me. 

The second our palms touch, something unbreakable forms between the both of us. I can feel his blood seeping inside of me and mine into him. Whatever darkness he had was mine and whatever light I had was his. I wondered what this would mean for us moving forward, but I was not given too much time to ponder this before he rolled his hips against mine, his fully embedded cock stretching my cunt. 

A chorus of moans and grunts between the both of us filled the silence that had fallen between us. Marion’s hold on me was comforting and firm as he started pounding into me. I lay there taking him inside of me as deeply as I could. Every movement sent a chill up my spine. A sense of deep-rooted satisfaction that this was who I was now bound to. His fingers intertwined themselves in mine as our palms remained locked together, this time pressed into the surface of the couch above my head. It all happens in a haze and after a while, I can no longer tell how long he’s been inside of me. It could have been minutes or hours, but every thrust of his cock touching that special spot inside of me, felt like heaven. I feel full with him inside of me, but with each thrust I can feel each of us reaching our individual climaxes. 

“Cum inside of me. I want to feel you fill me to the brim.”

I beg him, my body starting to near the end of his relentless movements. His lips find my ear, his breath warm on my neck as he chuckles darkly.

“Anything for you my love. After all, what kind of king denies his queen?”

His cock picks up speed, Unrelentlessly pushing me over the edge without apology. It is only then, when I feel my walls flutter around his cock as they had done with his fingers that I feel his seed spill inside of me. Deeply, embedded inside of me, feeding my cunt with his delectable nectar. Only once his seed has fully been spent does he pull out of me, laying next to me on the couch, the seat wide enough to hold us both comfortably. 

We both breathe in silence as our hearts slow, and exhaustion washes over me. Never had I ever been fucked like that.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Marion’s face studying me in the light of the fire. A fondness overtakes his face as he studies me. A genuine look of love that I could faintly recall from our lives previously. 

“I thought of you every day after Adar had believed that he had killed me. I worried about what they had done to you. Without me there to protect you. I am so sorry you were killed, that you had to endure all of that and be reborn. I cannot imagine what that was like.”

I turn over on my side to face him, my hand reaching out to push some of his longer brown locks out of his face. 

“I had elvish parents this time around and I loved them very much. When they died I felt as though life had lost all of its meaning. I had always felt this connection to this nameless entity. A memory from a life before mine, but I could never find any answer for why I felt that way. Not until I met you this morning. I felt it the second I laid eyes on you Halbrand...” 

I whisper his new name, smiling at my lover. 

“... Speaking of Halbrand, I quite like the way you came back to me. You are beautiful in every form, but this one… this one is very pleasing to look at.”

The smirk that had toyed with me since I saw it this morning finds his lips once more. He pulls my body in against his and my breathing hitches. 

He’s hard again. 

“I am glad my new bride finds my appearance so pleasing.”

My mind replays the exchange we had moments ago. The blood of his and the blood of mine. Forever bound together as it should have been years ago. 

“Shall I show my husband just how pleasing he is to me?”

I ask, my voice feigning innocence as my hand slowly drifts down his body. Down to his hardened member. He looks at me like a predator stalking prey, cruel intent on his handsome face. 

“Yes, my sweetling. Show me.”

[cobragardens]

The 3 Falls of Anthony J Crowley

So far, Crowley has told three different stories to three different audiences about why he Fell, and there's some important information that can be inferred from them. Let's get nerdy.

(Nb. C. 25% of this is from a previous post I made about Crowley's memory problems.)

Here's Crowley's 1st story (gifs courtesy of Fuck Yeah Good Omens), in 1867:

In Book Omens this line is narration about Crowley, and means that Crowley didn't embrace evil and side with Hell so much as he just wasn't into the whole Heaven shindig.

In Show Omens, this phrase becomes a little more fraught, because Crowley says it about himself, and he says it to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale has just disagreed with Crowley's assertion that the two of them have a lot in common. Az thinks Crowley means their origins as angels, and demurs, "I don't know. We may have both started off as angels, but you are fallen."

But what Crowley means, as we find out in pretty much every other scene the two of them share in S1 and S2, is that that he and Aziraphale have a lot in common now, in their current positions. He wants Aziraphale to see him as a friend--and to be his friend--so he elides the difference his Fallenness makes to Aziraphale, all "Ehhh, it wasn't really a fall kind of Fall, it wasn't that bad."

Also, given the conversation they have in the Final Fifteen, I feel like his phrasing is kind of important here, because falling is not voluntary, but sauntering is. In saying this Crowley is claiming that to some degree he chose to reject Heaven.

It's entirely possible that Crowley may have been lying to Aziraphale in 1867--he is, as he says, a demon, and he's lied to him before to make something bad seem less bad--but maybe not. Remember what the Metatron says about Crowley:

And this is another interesting point: The Metatron knew Crowley as an angel. The Metatron. The being who, after shepherding Aziraphale out of the bookshop, turned back and looked at Crowley with hate.

(And tense music playing, in case you weren't sure.)

So maybe that's it. Maybe Crowley just chose to be on his own side.

But in 2019, and addressing God, Crowley's story of his Fall is slightly different:

I think we can take this as Crowley's sincere belief. It's unlikely that he would lie when speaking to God, because that is Aziraphale's job because he doesn't have any reason to do so: God hasn't been listening to Crowley for 6,000 years at this point, and if She were listening, lying would not work. So Crowley probably believes he's telling the truth here with this story: Crowley believes one reason he Fell is that he asked questions.

But is he right?

Another line from the Metatron:

The Metatron seems to speak of Crowley's habit of asking questions as though he finds it obnoxious rather than damning, so maybe the questions weren't the problem. Then again we know that the Metatron is a lying piece of shit and an authoritarian who doesn't want his regime questioned, willing to erase memories and destroy lives to cover up the 'institutional problem' that Heaven doesn't know what the Plan is and is run by a handful of warmongers who want everyone dead or indentured.

Either way, this is the third time in the series someone has talked about the problem of Crowley asking questions, so my guess is his questions were probably a salient feature of his Fall.

Onward!

Before we look at the 3rd story, remember that we have strong evidence now that Crowley has had his memories erased by Heaven.

But we also know Furfur, another demon, still has his memories. Inference: Heaven don't erase the memories of every angel who Falls. This suggests that Heaven erased Crowley's memories because he had knowledge in those memories Heaven didn't want him to have anymore.

This may not be specific knowledge. We know Crowley has a high security clearance in Heaven and therefore must have been a high-ranking angel, and we know he created a nebula with Saraqael, so presumably there was a lot of stuff in his head Heaven wanted stripped out.

But I think there was something specific, and here's why. Firstly, there's no reason to assume that importance in Heaven is a guarantee of importance in Hell. Furfur could have been a high-ranking angel too before ending up an admin in Hell. (Hell does not seem to be any more of a meritocracy than Heaven does.)

Secondly, it's clear that Crowley doesn't know his memories have been erased. If he knew, then when Furfur says "We were in the same Legion? Just before the Fall? Doing dubious battle on the Plains of Heaven? Remember?" he'd say something like "Don't be stupid, of course I don't remember, Heaven erased my memories."

Instead he says,

Now, maybe Crowley is just being a dick here. Certainly we're supposed to take it that way until he goes up to Heaven with Muriel and doesn't remember Saraqael either.

But what if he's being truthful? If Crowley is being honest (and a dick), that would mean the Fash didn't erase all of Crowley's memories of his time in Heaven. We know this because Furfur says he and Crowley fought together "on the Plains of Heaven," and "just before the Fall" [emphasis added].

This suggests that Maybe Heaven didn't erase time from Crowley's memory. Maybe they erased people.

Okay, now here's Crowley's 3rd story about how he Fell:

It's a cute line, but what if it's not just a throwaway joke referencing what people say about kids who go down the wrong path and become criminals?

Crowley mutters this 3rd story to himself, so we can be confident Crowley believes this to be true. But Crowley doesn't know who the wrong people are. He doesn't know whose company got him thrown out of Heaven, because his memories of all those people have been taken from him.

And taken together, these three stories and Crowley's stolen memories suggest a bigger, more disturbing inference: Crowley doesn't know why he Fell. (Or sauntered vaguely downwards.)

Like Crowley, Job was once a favorite of God. But he has fallen out of that favor and been delivered to demons for reasons God refuses to tell him.

We the audience are meant to draw a parallel between Job and Crowley. We know this not just because of the speech Crowley cathartically gives Job's goats, in which everything he says to the goats can be just as easily applied to Job or himself, but from two other indications. Here's one:

Job is wearing Crowley's color.

The other is the minisode title, "A Companion to Owls." This phrase comes from the Book of Job, specifically Job 30:29. Job, lamenting what has happened to him, says,

 I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.

In Biblical symbolism, dragon=serpent=snake=demon. And in some Mesopotamian beliefs--one of them Judaism--owls were associated with demons as well:

and

and

So the Job of the Bible is saying in this verse the same thing the Job of Good Omens says: God has forsaken me and delivered me to demons. Or even: God has forsaken me and I am now being treated like demons are treated.

And he's also saying something else. In the Bible, owls symbolize loneliness, desolation, and solitude. They're consistently depicted as living in barren, abandoned, isolated places. Seriously. Go search owl(s) in a Biblical concordance and read all 30 entries: it comes up a lot. If you're a companion to owls, you're alone (except for the owls) in the wilderness. You're forsaken.

WHOMST do we know whose signal color is yellow, who's a brother of demons, and who admits at the end of the episode that being alone and forsaken in the wilderness is lonely?

So. Job, a character whose claim to fame is that God punished him and he didn't know why, is a mirror character to Crowley. This on its own isn't enough to say definitely that Crowley doesn't know why he Fell, but combined with the three different stories he tells about his Fall, I think there's enough textual evidence to conclude that Crowley isn't entirely sure why he fell; he only has educated guesses. Either he knew and the memory was erased, or he was never told at all.

My question about Crowley's Fall is this: Who pushed him?

Was Crowley's Fall an act of God Herself, or was it an act of Heaven? What did the fucking Metatron have to do with it? What was Crowley's crime? When Aziraphale takes charge of Heaven and the Second Coming, will he read Crowley's file?

[poetinthelakes]

SPEAK NOW . . . . gojo satoru .ᐟ

LYRICS. horrified looks from everyone in the room but i'm only looking at you ──────ex-husbands!gojo x fem!reader ⋆

NOTES. part two of this scenario, i think everything is a bit rushed so i didn't like it so much but anw, happy ending!! i wanted to write something angsty but ended up doing this, enjoy and thank you for the support <3 .ᐟ

Gojo Satoru’s heart had never raced as wildly as it was beating at this moment. The anxiety and nervousness coursing through him as he sprinted towards the venue where his ex-wife was getting married was unmatched.

Had you already said “I do”? Were you thinking about him? Had Megumi and Tsumiki managed to delay the ceremony long enough for him to get there on time?

A flood of questions swirled in his mind, none of which would be answered until he reached the place where you stood at the altar, dressed in for the white veil occasion with a man that didn’t deserve you in the slightest.

When he got there, a man in a suit stopped him, asking what did he want.

“I’m Gojo Satoru, i'm here for the wedding of Yn Ln and Kenji Hirano, where are they?” he demanded breathlessly, the desperation in his voice growing more evident.

“Oh, Miss Yn and Mr. Kenji are on the third floor, the main hall to the right and—” the man began, but before he could finish, the white-haired man bolted towards the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator.

Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes.

The voice of an officiant became clearer and clearer as he neared the hall where the love of his life was about to get married.

“If anyone has a valid reason to object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Satoru heard just as he reached the doors. A tense silence filled the room.

It seemed like his kids had executed the plan exactly as they'd rehearsed.

The man with ocean-blue eyes pushed the doors open dramatically, causing every head to turn towards him with horrified looks but Satoru didn’t care about anyone else in the room, his eyes were solely on you as he strode confidently to where you stood. Your surprised expression, as if straight out of a soap opera, met his.

“Satoru? W-what are you doing here? how did—?” you stammered, your eyes flickering briefly to where your kids stood, grinning in delight.

“I, Gojo Satoru, object to this wedding,” he declared, turning to face the man who was just minutes away from becoming your husband. Then, he shifted his gaze to the officiant as he added, “This man doesn’t deserve Yn, he doesn’t love her. And i don’t think she loves him either.”

“What the hell are you talking about, you idiot?” Kenji shot back angrily.

“I’m talking about how you’ve been using her all this time. Don’t think you can fool me, because i know you’re no saint,” Satoru said, eliciting shocked gasps from the crowd.

“Love, this man has cheated on you more than once, lying about loving you while sneaking around with other women behind your back,” he revealed, making your jaw drop in disbelief.

“What? Is that true, Kenji?” you demanded, your voice tinged with denial, unable to process what Satoru just said.

Obviously your fiancé immediately started to deny everything.

“Of course not! t-this idiot is just making things up to stop you from marrying me!” Kenji protested, growing increasingly nervous, so much that you began to suspect that Satoru was telling the truth but it was clear that your ex-husband was the only one being honest.

“I have photos, Yn, if you wanna see them. . .” Satoru began, pulling out his phone, but you stopped him by placing your hand on his.

Shaking your head, you replied, “You don’t need to show me anything. I believe you, Satoru.”

“You do?” he asked, hope lighting up his face.

“Of course i do, you would never lie to me about something like this. I know you, Satoru,” you said and the white-haired man smiled softly just as your kids ran up to join you both, leaving Kenji staring in disbelief.

“Let’s go, Mom! The car’s waiting,” Megumi said, and Tsumiki held up your car keys with a grin, making you smile softly as well.

“Well? what do you say?” Satoru asked eagerly, his eyes filled with that irresistible look you could never say no to.

The room buzzed with whispers as the guests ───and your family─── awaited your response.

You took a moment to think before soflty nodding, a soft smile gracing your lips. “Let’s go,” you said, smiling at the only man who had ever truly captured your heart.

With no hesitation, Satoru grabbed your hand, and the two of you bolted towards the exit, Megumi and Tsumiki following close behind as Kenji yelled after you, begging for you to come back.

This was a decision you knew you’d never regret.

BONUS .ᐟ

“You drive me crazy, angel,” said your now-boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, giving you a mischievous grin after what had been the best night you’d had in a long time.

Your bare body wrapped in nothing but a sheet, and the man of your dreams lying beside you made it feel like a dream you never wanted to wake up from.

“I love you, Satoru,” you murmured, looking at him with a smile as you leaned in to give him a fervent kiss. Satoru placed one hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, caressing it tenderly.

“I love you more, sweetheart,” he whispered, peppering your body with soft kisses, making you laugh and wonder how you'd ever thought of ending your marriage with someone as wonderful as him.

This time, Satoru wasn’t going to let you go, and you knew you’d never want to leave his side ever again.

© POETINTHELAKES 2025

[captainsophiestark]

Rock Solid

Enzo St. John x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: TVD/TO

Summary: Enzo's SO roped him into joining a Mystic Falls scooby gang game of truth or dare, and the rest of the Mystic Falls group is having trouble believing just how healthy their relationship is.

Word Count: 1,193

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: I know not all of the characters mentioned in this were present/on speaking terms at the same time in TVD, but I don't care. We're ignoring the timeline and going for vibes.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Okay, truth or dare?"

I could tell Tyler was up to something across the circle of our friends, but I wasn't sure what. I hummed, thinking for a moment before deciding to play it on the safer side. I'd known Tyler for most of our lives, and if he had a grin like that on his face, I didn't want to know what dare idea might be causing it.

"Truth."

Damon booed from across the circle, but Tyler and I ignored him. To my surprise, Tyler's grin actually grew as he asked his question.

"What's the biggest secret you're keeping from Enzo?"

I frowned, but not because I was upset at the question. My boyfriend, Enzo St. John, was sitting next to me, his arm around my shoulders. I'd dragged him to this party with my old Mystic Falls friends, and he'd given me some raised eyebrows and eyerolls at the idea of playing truth or dare. But, for me, he'd been a good sport about it. Because he loved me, and he knew it would make me happy while costing him relatively little. We had each other's backs like that.

Which is why I had absolutely no idea what Tyler was trying to do. Amongst the secrets, lies, and manipulations that had become the norm for my group since vampires got involved, Enzo and I always told each other everything. We didn't keep secrets from each other, unless maybe one of us was planning a surprise party, and frankly, I thought it was the main reason we were in a happy, committed relationship without the drama the rest of our group kept going through.

"Uh..." I said, stalling for time while I racked my mind. It seemed like Tyler was fishing for a specific answer, but I had no idea what it could be. After another few moments of thinking, I shook my head and dropped my gaze back down to meet Tyler's. "Honestly, I can't think of anything. I know that's not really the point of this game, but... I don't have any secrets from Enzo."

Right on cue, our entire friend group groaned and rolled their eyes. Also on cue, Enzo leaned down to kiss my temple with a smile. I turned to smile back at him, leaning closer into him and resting one hand on his thigh.

"Okay, there's no way you guys are actually this perfect," Caroline said, sitting up a little further from her seat beside Tyler. "There has to be some moment or lie or something that you haven't told him. What about that time at the bar...?"

"The one where we saw Kol and Klaus? He knows all about that."

Caroline narrowed her eyes at me.

"He knows all about that?"

"Yeah, Caroline," I replied, leaning forward and raising an eyebrow so she would hopefully get my meaning. "All about it."

My look must've worked, because Caroline promptly went bright red as her mouth dropped open. She glared at me, her voice raising in pitch as she spoke again.

"Are you serious? You told him about that?"

"Yes! Sorry, but... yeah, I did!"

Caroline huffed and flopped back into her seat, and I didn't need to look at my boyfriend to know he was grinning. I'd gone on a weekend trip to New Orleans with Caroline a few months ago, and we'd run into Klaus and Kol at a bar. Kol had spent some time hitting on me, but I'd shut him down, and we eventually ended up spending the night bonding and commisserating over the people we'd come to the bar with, who'd snuck off into the back to make out in a closet or something. I'd told Enzo everything, from the flirting to the shift to friendliness to Caroline ducking out with Klaus.

"Well what about some of the plans we've put together?" Elena chimed in, shifting in her seat next to Damon. "Like some of the things we all came up with before you started dating, when he was still working with the enemy?"

I shook my head. "...No, I told him about all of that after we started dating. And he told me about all of his pre-dating plots, too."

"Well what about-"

"I actually have a confession," Enzo broke in. Everyone stopped dead to look at him, and I turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. He continued, keeping his attention on my friends. "I know the question wasn't directed at me, but-"

"This works too," said Tyler, waving him off with a grin. "Whatta ya got?"

Enzo cleared his throat, then turned to meet my eyes. His expression was serious, and I could tell the rest of the room thought this was going to be a massive bombshell, but I honestly couldn't get myself to buy it. I just waited, letting Enzo build up to whatever it was he wanted to say.

"...I ate the last piece of cake last week."

I gasped, hand to my heart and a scowl instantly on my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw all our friends rolling their eyes and groaning, but I ignored them.

"Enzo! How could you?" I delivered the line like he'd just told me he'd slept with my best friend. "This is a betrayal! A stone-cold, unforgivable betrayal!"

"Alright, we get it!" Tyler broke in, giving us the tone equivalent of an eyeroll. I ignored him.

"Unless..." I said. Ezno raised his eyebrow, and I took a deep, dramatic breath. I barely managed to hold back a grin and stay in character. "I have a confession too. I was lying before, there is something I'm keeping from you."

"Boo!" called Caroline, as Damon hurled a pillow at the two of us. I ducked behind Enzo, letting it hit him, and the two of us quickly returned to dramatic form as it bounced off.

"I... told you the coffee I brought you last night was regular, but it was decaf. I know you're a vampire, but holy shit babe, it was two in the morning and you were drinking it for the taste, not to stay awake. You were trying to drink black coffee and go to bed. I couldn't just stand by."

"...I noticed. But it was adorable and thoughtful of you, so I didn't mention it."

I gasped again. "You bastard!"

That was the absolute limit of what Enzo and I could get through without dissolving into a fit of laughter. He moved his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him, and I laid my head on his chest as I laughed my ass off. Half of our friends were glaring at us while the other half smiled fondly, but Enzo and I couldn't have cared less.

Leave the shitty drama and backstabbing to the rest of the supernatural world. Enzo and I were rock solid, and neither of us was ever going to let anything change that.

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