#fiercely-raging-writer

[memento-morri-writes]

hi morri!!! i just wanted to check in on you and see how you're doing :) it's been a while dkjfks. what projects are you working on? is there anything you'd like to share about your writing/what you're upto in general? i hope you're doing well!!! [also, i just saw your twin ask and i am a twin too so !! fist bumping you gently :D] [@fiercely-raging-writer]

SO MANY TWINS, HOLY SHIT!!!!! Welcome to the twin gang!

Also, hiiii!!! It's so nice to see you on tumblr again, Jai! <3

I haven't been doing a lot of writing lately, but I do have a lot of ideas!! My most recent idea is a direct result of my DnD special interest/hyperfixation which is currently going very strong. It' called "high fantasy wip", and it's a bunch of messed up disasters making a found family and going on magic adventures. Also it's narrated by a raven belonging to the goddess of death, hehehe.

You can find what I've posted about it here!

Other than that, my same WIPs are still on in the background, left to simmer. Most importantly ATQH and CoS, but there's a couple other concepts that are floating about. (supernatural roadtrip wip and political fantasy wip)

Other than writing, I recently started my 2nd semester of university, which is kind of wild! And I also joined a DnD campaign at my uni too! I also had a birthday in January, hehehe.

How have you been doing? What have you been up to? (writing and otherwise) It's nice to hear from you!!

[daenerysaizie]

𐔌 . ⋮ REALM’S DELIGHT .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

MK1 x Targaryen!Reader

Note:

Game of Thrones concept included in MK 1. Even though, Game of Thrones is kanonically a show in the MK world (shown in the DLC), in this fanfic it’s not lol. Also, I will be changing plots and details for the both. Will get confusing as I’m not an experienced writer and yes :3 OH! You’re also basically Daenarys, sharing the look of classic Valyrian (only hair and eye color) and characteristics. If you don’t know anything about Game of Thrones, don’t worry I will explain it in the fic? But do realize it’s heavily rewritten so it’s not the same as the kanon one. Heavily inspired by “Kombat Hearts” by @ilykirara and “New Era” by @atlasofthestaars . I love this two fics so so much<3 female reader? But read however you like.

Edit: changed the story lil bit to fit the flow🩷

Chapter 1 — Everytime a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

In the year 283 AC (After Conquest) on Dragonstone, Westeros, a storm raged, with fierce winds and crashing waves echoing the pain that consumed Queen Rhaella. She lay in labor, her face pale and drawn, haunted by fear—fear of soon losing a husband to his madness and sons to a brutal world. Yet, she clung to her strength, whispering, “This child is of House Targaryen,” as though breathing life into the fire in her womb.

At the storm’s peak, the child was born—a girl with silvery hair and eyes like amethysts. Rhaella looked upon her newborn daughter with a bittersweet smile. Her breaths grew shallow, each one softer than the last, yet her gaze held firm. She would not yield to death, not yet. Her lips parted, and with a fragile voice, she spoke her child’s name—a final act of love and defiance.

—

They called you Stormborn. The youngest child of King Aerys, princess of Dragonstone—a darling of the fortress that rose dark and forbidding from the rocky, windswept island, surrounded by an endless sea. In your early years, you grew up there, often found by the beach, close to the waves, with sand in your hair and the scent of salt in your nose. You loved the sea; it made you feel free. The cold, unyielding stones of Dragonstone comforted you, and to your young eyes, this was home. Warm and protective.

You were never alone. Upon your mother’s death, the King, your father, appointed guards and servants to remain by your side at all times, just as he had for Viserys, your elder brother. Before you or Viserys, Queen Rhaella had suffered multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. This led the King, who was starting show signs of insanity, to suspect her, and he sent her away to Dragonstone from King’s Landing. He would visit her only after executing someone by fire.

Raised on the island, you knew little of the world beyond—King’s Landing, the Seven Kingdoms, or even your eldest brother, Rhaegar, whom you met only twice. You have met your father supposedly just once, when you were a babe. Viserys was your only guide, the voice that taught and reassured you. Sharing quite the big of age gap, he knew beyond the misty, cold walls.

When conditions grew too dangerous, you were too young to understand why you had to leave.

“Brother, please come with me. I’m scared,” you whispered, clinging to him. Viserys held you tightly. “I must stay. I am the Prince of Dragonstone, It is right for me to stay,” he replied, pressing a small bag into your hands. “Sister, I promise I’ll bring you back home. Protect this at all costs. It is the crown of King Jaehaerys I.” You clutched the bag close, nodding.

A man with clad in blue took your small hand and led you away from the only home you’d known to a place far, far away. Clutching the bag with the crown, you looked back at your brother for a final look. The maids and servants who had raised you weeped as they watched you leave.

In time, you would soon forget the feel of home and the memories it bore, but never the promise your brother made or the vow you’d taken to guard the crown.

—

You stayed at a placed called the Lin Kuei when you fled from home. The Lin Kuei's former Grandmaster knew your father personally. How? You didn't know. All you knew was that the Grandmaster was kind enough to lend a hand to your father and save his only daughter. "Do you know why you are here, little dragon?" He bent down to your toddler body. You gripped the golden crown to your chest. "Home is dangerous." you replied as you looked at the Grandmaster. He had the face of a strict man, but deep in his eyes, you could see honor and kindness burn. He hummed as he nodded, "You will be safe here." he told you as he put his hand on your head. And you were, for years.

Obviously, being in the clan, you were destined to meet the three sons he had. You became close to the youngest one, Tomas. He bore almost the same burdens as you and understood your pains and discomfort. Eventually, you got close to Kuai Liang too. He took care of you and guarded you away from the clan's considerably cruel side. However, as for Bi-Han, you never got the chance to get close. He was heir to his clan, making him busier than his brothers. To your memory, he was cold and strict, stricter than his father. The only vivid memory you have of him is him asking you how your hair and eye color were so... different. You could not give him an answer that satisfied his curiosity.

As you got older, when you showed the sign of maturity in body and mind, you were sent away once again. Somewhere much safer and peaceful. According to the former Grandmaster, the clan was not made for you; you were meant to live a life that was peaceful, not a life to become a skilled warrior. Thus, Madam Bo, a former Lin Kuei warrior, took you to the village where she resided. You would keep contact in with the Lin Kuei brothers through letters. Though, the last letter you got from was a year ago now.

You lived with Madam Bo for many years now. She taught you everything you needed to know, from tough love to combat (for self defense). You remember the moment she brought you to Fengjian as clear as day. The night was as silent as death when she brought you to this quaint village. Her horse's gallops echoed through the stillness, bringing little bit of life to the sleeping village. She had you firmly seated in front of her on her horse, your hair skillfully concealed beneath her deep purple scarf. Madam Bo took great care to inform you of the local norms and the dos and the don’ts. She explained that your unique features, which were considered royal in Westeros and the Essos, would seem different and will be only met with curiosity. You were also strongly advised to not speak of your old home or family name.

Through Madam Bo, you were able to meet Kung Lao and Raiden. "Thick-skulled boys," she would call them. Growing up, the three of you sparred, trained, and played together. Being homeschooled, Raiden and Kung Lao were diligent in ensuring that you didn't miss out on any fun experiences. After grueling training sessions, the males took turns to take you out for treats. In return, you helped them with various tasks around the farm. This included harvesting the freshly grown vegetables, a labor of gratitude from you. They were also vigilant in ensuring that no boys with ‘ill intentions’ ever bothered you with courting or whatever. Whenever you insisted you could handle yourself, they would respond with a confident "I know," followed by a statement that they knew even better because they were males. In retort, you would often ask, "In that case, should I be cautious of you two as well?" to which they would simply shut down.

—

It was early in the morning, 5 AM to be exact, as you sat on your bed staring at the golden crown in your hands. It was the last thing you had that represented your family's existence and was evidence of your royal heritage. The crown had a large sigil of a three-headed dragon at its center, while seven smaller gems of different colors decorated the rest. You had the same dream again. At this point, you could recall every detail.

"BURN THEM ALL! BURN THEM ALL!" A hoarse, old voice boomed through the room. An old man with a long white beard and crazed eyes yelled, ordering his pyromancers (who used some kind of chemicals to start major fires) while he sat on the Iron Throne, a seat made from thousands of swords. The pyromancers hesitated. It was your father who sat on the throne, though you didn’t know it was him; his unmistakable Valyrian looks—white hair and purple eyes—gave it away. He continued to yell until one of his guards, a golden-haired man with blurry face, drew his sword, stabbed him in the back, and slit his throat. The golden-haired guard watched your crazed father bleed to death as he sat on his throne, yet your father still whispered the same thing as he bled on the floor: "Burn them all."

You ponder if the dream was a real event or not. After all, you were never there to witness this event, and you were extremely young when you fled from home. Plus, you had no memory of ever meeting your father or what he looked like. What if it was a cruel joke your mind played?

"No use thinking about it," you whisper to yourself as you put away the crown into your nightstand's drawer. With one swift move, you get up to get ready for the day. After all, you had so much to do. You start your morning routine and change from your nightgown into more proper clothes for the day.

—

The day went by rather quickly. From getting fresh vegetables and produce early in the morning to serving customers until closing time, the day went smoothly. Almost too smoothly. You sigh and hum as you watch your two friends put away food like vacuums, with Kung Lao doing most of the work as usual. It was amusing - how did his stomach not burst? It was superhuman, you swore. Soon, you saw Madam Bo approach the two with a massive bill in her hand. Poor Raiden and his wallet.

Despite closing hours arriving, a few drunken uncles from the village stayed behind. One made a mess on the bottom floor, which you had to clean up. You mopped the floor as the drunken man apologized. "Ahhhh, I'm sorry! Here, here, have this," he slurred his words as he handed you an unopened bottle of beer. You shook your head and refused his token of apology. You chuckled inwardly as you washed away the mess from the floor.

Suddenly, Madam Bo came down to the bottom floor and crashed into the table, breaking it. She was unconscious. "Madam Bo?!" you exclaimed in horror. The drunken uncles behind you seemed to sober up and stare. You looked up to see the culprit with wide eyes.

The man with very familiar hair jumped down to the floor, landing next to Madam Bo's unconscious body. He wore mask that covered his face. Your chest tightened as fear clouded your mind for her. You tried running towards her as the previously drunken guy, now sober from the shock, grabbed your wrist. "Are you crazy!? He's going to kill you!" he whispered as he tugged you, preparing to run. "Go" you whispered back to him. The once-drunken guy thought for a moment and let your wrist go when he saw your determined face. He dashed out of the place with a few other people. You still gripped the mop in your hand as the man approached you. He had grey hair that reminded you of Tomas from your childhood. Was it truly him? You hadn't seen the man for years!

"Surrender to the Lin Kuei! Or end up like her," he replied as he prepared his karambit, aiming it at you. It is him! Is this what the Lin Kuei does now? you thought anxiously. "I thought the Lin Kuei protected people from harm. I never thought you would stoop this low," you spoke calmly, with a hidden wobble in your voice. How could your childhood friend do this?

Kung Lao and Raiden shout your name from the floor above after taking out the other members of the clan. They try to go down to help you, but Bi-Han and Kuai Liang stop them in their tracks. "You interfere with Lin Kuei business. Leave, or face our wrath!" Bi-Han warns as he dramatically stands on the rooftop. Kuai Liang approaches the two with his weapon from behind, swinging it in the air. "Abandon Madam Bo and her? Not happening," Kung Lao replies. After his reply, Bi-Han launches himself at Raiden while Kuai Liang grabs Kung Lao, pulling him towards himself as he yells ferociously, "Get over here!"

Tomas slowly approaches you with his karambit, closing the distance between you two, as if he were a hunter and you were his prey. You contemplate your actions as you grip the mop tighter until your knuckles turn white. When the gap closes, he swings his karambit at you. You dodge his attack and use the tip of the mop to strike his stomach multiple times before hitting him hard on the head with the mop's end. He falls down. "No, it can't be that easy," you think to yourself as you look at his ‘unconscious’ body. Emotions surge through you the more you look at him, unsure how to feel, but you take the result for granted, leaving the mop near his head and running towards Madam Bo.

The noises around you seem to blur as you barely breathe. You gently turn her body to see her, and your hands shakily brush her face to sweep away the strands of her hair. "Madam Bo?" you whisper with great worry and fear. Soon enough, Kung Lao and Raiden come running down to you. They ask about your condition first before turning to Madam Bo. "Oh no. Is she—" Kung Lao is cut off when Madam Bo suddenly opens her eyes and looks at you three. "Dead? Not yet." You three can hear the playfulness in her voice as she stands up. You and Raiden are quick to help her, but she brushes away your hands as she swiftly lights up her cigarette. "Madam Bo, how are you—" Kung Lao gets interrupted again. Raiden points at the stairs, "Guys!"

"So, Madam Bo, are they ready?" A man comes down as he takes his hood off, revealing his glowing eyes and chiseled face that bears a small, proud smile. You notice it's the same man who caught your attention earlier today. Madam Bo was fondly standing at his table as she served him tea. You anxiously fidget with the ring on your middle finger. Raiden notices your fidgeting and gently takes your hand, holding it firmly with care.

Madam Bo stands in front as if to present you three. "These two are a bit thick in the head, perhaps... But they are ready," she says, referring to Raiden and Kung Lao. "However, I did not think my child would be included in the exam," she chuckles as she glances at you.

"His eyes are glowing," Raiden blurts out to Kung Lao, who is on his right side with you on his left, still holding your hand.

"I am Lord Liu Kang, God of Fire and Protector of Earthrealm," the man with glowing eyes introduces himself as he connects his hands together and folds his arms. In response, you gently let go of Raiden's hand to bow to the god. "God? Earthrealm?" Kung Lao asks with curiosity as Raiden observes the god, silently mourning the loss of contact with your hand.

"Madam Bo has been preparing you for this moment since you were boys. Today you have proven worthy of joining my champions," he explains further.

"This fight was a test?" Raiden asks. The god smiles and nods, "Of your ability and character, yes. Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas," he calls out to the Lin Kuei members. Bi-Han and Kuai Liang come down the stairs while Tomas, who was already on the same floor, stands up and positions himself behind the god.

"So these three aren't thugs?" Kung Lao asks suspiciously, eyeing them. You can only send an apologetic look to Tomas, who returns it with soft eyes.

"The Lin Kuei is a centuries-old clan dedicated to Earthrealm's defense," the god explains.

"You keep saying Earthrealm. Don't you mean Earth?" Raiden asks, confused. Madam Bo chuckles as you smile. You already possessed a little information of this topic. "You boys have so much to learn," she says.

"Earth is only part of Earthrealm. Earthrealm itself is one of many realms. Together they comprise the whole of the universe," the god explains, gesturing with his hands. "The realms can be fierce, bitter rivals. That's why we need champions to defend ours," Madam Bo adds. "The time draws near for the grand martial arts tournament between Earthrealm and the realm of Outworld. Held once each century, it allows each realm to demonstrate its strength. While our realms are at peace, there are Outworlders who would prefer us to be at war. Our victory in the tournament will... temper their zeal," the god concludes.

Madam Bo turns to the boys and partially to you, "I've taught you everything I can. You must finish your training with Lord Liu Kang," she informs them.

"More training? These three couldn't defeat us," Kung Lao asks skeptically. At his remark, Bi-Han scoffs audibly, which makes Madam Bo chuckle along with him.

"They were pulling their punches," she explains. You nod at her words as you remember the Lin Kuei being so formidable and strong. "Had we not held back, you would not have survived," Bi-Han says proudly and threateningly, stepping forward slightly. Lord Liu Kang blocks his way and interrupts him. "Come. The monks at the Wu Shi Academy await to continue your tutelage." The god offers the choice, which Kung Lao accepts without hesitation.

"And you, Raiden?" the god asks. Raiden hesitates, "Leave Fengjian? I'm needed here," he replies. Madam Bo steps in, "Earthrealm needs you, Raiden. You'll best serve the village by being one of its champions," she assures him. After considering for a moment, Raiden agrees to the god's offer with a simple "I understand."

"How about you? You have proven yourself to be worthy as well," the god turns to you as he utters your name. You, who had been silent the whole time, gape at his question. You point towards yourself, "Me?" you ask, to confirm. Madam Bo chuckles. "Come on! You heard the god. The three of us could train together like we always did!" Kung Lao says as he steps forward towards you as Raiden nods in agreement. You were unsure. "But I do not fight well and I cannot leave Madam Bo." you answer bluntly. At your words, Madam Bo chuckles as she pushes you towards the god by your waist. "Forgive me, Lord Liu Kang. As you can see, she is timid, obedient, and so humble. But she has the spirit of the dragon." she says. The god and everyone else only looks at you and awaits your answer. You sigh and nod, which earns a proud smile from Madam Bo.

"Excellent. I will join you soon. First, there are other champions I must gather," the god says.

—

Lord Liu Kang departed the tea house to gather his other champions with Kung Lao and Raiden shortly after him, to prepare for the Wu Shi academy.

The Lin Kuei stayed behind to clean up the aftermath of their physical test, during which you exchanged subtle glances with them. It had been over a decade since you last saw them, and they had transformed from boys into men, now towering above you easily. Their faces had become more defined and chiseled, contrasting the young boys you remembered.

“You dyed your hair.” Tomas remarks as he approaches you. You were setting the chairs upside down on the table to sweep any debris or broken objects. “Ah, I had to” you return his greeting with a warm smile and stand up straight. A moment of silence hangs between you, filled with the unspoken words and nostalgia.

“You and your brothers haven’t written for a year now. Why?” You ask with curiosity. As you ask about the lack of communication from the brothers, Tomas chuckles softly and explains, “Many more new initiates. How about you? You haven’t written to us as well,” He then turns it back on you, wondering why you haven't written either. You answer in a soft voice, your smile revealing a hint of melancholy. "Life hasn't changed much for me," you reply. "I didn't want to bother you or your brother."

Tomas can only hum in response and before you could speak. “We will leave” Bi-Han commands, followed by Kuai Liang, as he walks up to you and Tomas. You immediately bow to them in greeting, and Bi-Han responds with a nod. Kuai Liang, on the other hand, returns your greeting with a slight bow.

"It was lovely seeing you three again," you say, your smile lighting up the conversation. "I hope we'll meet more in the future." There was happiness in your voice as you express this sentiment, despite the awkwardness, it was still refreshing to be in their presence. Kuai Liang responds with a simple, but sincere "I agree." Bi-Han quickly guides his brothers and the members of the clan out of the tea house, after finish repairing.

As the repair work on the tea house concludes, you realize that the only task left is the chore of cleaning. With a sigh, you mentally prepare yourself for the tedious process of scrubbing and tidying up, accepting the fact that it's part of your responsibilities. Madam Bo helped you, as always.

[libingan]

—escapism.

cw: cheating, age gaps, ooc simon because this was kind of rushed sorry babes, erm ig emotional neglect ??? idk how to tag warnings JSJDWJSJW

a/n: not my best work, but like, im having writer’s block rn so i just wrote the first thing that came to mind because i feel like i need to post something for yall HAAHAHAHAHA

as always, part two depends on how much this fic eats

you could feel the tension crackling in the air as you and your boyfriend faced off in your cramped living room. the argument had started small—another forgotten dinner, a dismissive comment—but it quickly escalated into a full-blown fight. his words were sharp, and his eyes, once warm, were cold and distant.

“you never fucking listen!” you yelled, your voice raw with frustration. “i’ve been trying to get you to notice me for months, but you’re always too busy with your own shit!”

he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “i’m tired of your whining. what do you want me to do, huh? i work hard and all you do is complain!”

“i want you to care!” you snapped back, feeling the sting of betrayal. “i want you to actually touch me, to know what i need, not just what you think you know!”

he threw his hands up in exasperation, his face hardening. “fine! if you’re so unhappy, maybe you should just leave!”

his words cut deeper than any physical blow could have. you felt a surge of anger and hurt. “maybe i fucking will!” you shouted, grabbing your coat and storming out, the door slamming behind you with a deafening bang. the sound echoed in the empty hallway as you rushed to your own place.

in the dimly lit sanctuary of your apartment, you stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection a mixture of rage and sadness. determined to reclaim some control over your life, you pulled out your most daring outfit—something that made you feel powerful and fierce. the tight, low-cut dress hugged your curves, and the bold makeup accentuated your defiance.

you headed to a bar, a place where anonymity and distraction offered some solace. the bar was loud and crowded, but you walked in with a purposeful stride. you ordered a strong drink and let the warmth of the alcohol begin to soothe your frayed nerves. it wasn’t long before you felt the eyes of others on you, their gazes filled with various levels of interest.

that’s when you noticed him—the man staring right at you. he was seated alone at the far end of the bar, his rugged features partially obscured by a black surgical mask. despite the mask, there was something compelling about him. he seemed a lot older, but his presence was commanding and intriguing. his gaze was intense, even if you couldn’t see his expressions clearly.

you found yourself drawn to him, not just by his looks but by the way he seemed to command the space around him. you hesitated for a moment, then made your way over, the alcohol giving you just enough courage.

the man looked up from his drink as you approached, his gaze piercing yet inviting. “evening,” he greeted, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "rough night?"

you signal the bartender to bring you another shot before turning to the man, an exhausted expression plastered onto your face. "you have no idea."

the bartender arrived with your drink, setting it down in front of you. before he could leave, the man next to you gestured to him with a firm yet polite command. "put the lady's drink on my tab," he said, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. a slight smile played on his lips as he glanced at you, his eyes intense and unreadable. the bartender nodded and moved on, leaving you feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity about this intriguing stranger.

"simon riley," he introduced himself with a nod. you offered your name in return, extending your hand for a handshake. he gladly took it, lifting his mask just enough to expose his lips before planting a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

"i have a boyfriend," you stated. simon chuckled in response, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "not a very good one if you're out here, no?"

you hesitated for a moment, but simon's easy confidence made it hard to stay reserved. as the conversation flowed, you found yourself laughing and sharing stories, your initial wariness melting away. there was an undeniable chemistry between you, a connection that felt natural and effortless.

simon had a way of making you feel seen and heard, his attention unwavering as he listened to you speak. he shared glimpses of his own life, his stories filled with adventure and depth. with each passing moment, you felt more alive, the weight of your earlier frustrations lifting.

you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way with your boyfriend. the spark, the excitement, the genuine interest—it had all been missing for so long. being with simon reminded you of what it felt like to be truly connected with someone, to feel that electric thrill of mutual attraction.

as the evening wore on and the alcohol worked its magic, you found yourself relaxing. after a few more drinks, the liquid courage made you more open. simon’s patient listening and calming presence encouraged you to open up.

as the night deepened and the bar's ambiance grew more intimate, you found yourself opening up to simon in a way you hadn't with anyone in a long time.

"my boyfriend... he's been so emotionally distant lately," you admitted, swirling your drink as you gathered your thoughts. "he's not as loving as he used to be. it's like he's more focused on his own world, and i'm just an afterthought."

simon listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours. "that sounds tough," he said softly. "you deserve to feel loved and appreciated."

you nodded, grateful for his understanding. "it's been hard. sometimes, it feels like i'm invisible to him. we haven't been intimate in what feels like forever. i almost feel like a virgin again because it's been so long since we last had sex."

simon raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity and concern in his gaze. "that must be really frustrating."

"it is," you sighed. "and the last time we did... he couldn't even find the clit. it was awkward and disappointing. it made me feel like he doesn't really care about my needs."

simon’s eyes remained locked on you, his presence steady and unyielding. “that sounds incredibly frustrating. it’s like he’s stopped making an effort to connect with you.”

“exactly!” you exclaimed, frustration spilling out. “it’s like he’s not even trying. i feel invisible, and he doesn’t even care. it’s like i’m just a roommate or something.”

simon’s voice was low and soothing. “you deserve more than that. it’s clear you’re looking for someone who actually cares and pays attention to what you need.”

simon leaned in closer, his presence radiating warmth and intensity. his hand, firm yet gentle, rested on your thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. “you know,” he said softly, his voice carrying a seductive edge, “i’d like to get to know you better. i can’t stand seeing you so unhappy.”

his fingers traced a light, deliberate path on your skin, the touch both comforting and thrilling. “why don’t you come home with me tonight? we can talk more, and I’d love to help you thryou hesitated, feeling a mix of curiosity and caution. “i don’t know, simon. you’re clearly older than me, and we’ve just met. it feels a bit... risky.”

simon’s gaze remained steady, his hand still gently resting on your thigh. “how old are you?” he asked, his voice calm and composed.

“i’m 27,” you replied.

“27,” simon repeated, his tone neutral. “you’re pushing thirty, not some freshly eighteen little girl. you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions.” he paused briefly. “could show you a good time, love, make you feel things your little boy toy can't. i'm only 42, you know. is that too old for you?"

you thought to yourself that yes, it might be too old, but right now? with the hurt and desperation for someone who would actually treat you right? you found yourself saying, “no, it’s not too old. yes, I’d like that.”

that's how you ended up in simon's apartment bedroom, naked and lost in the throes of pleasure.

simon's got you on your back, legs hooked over his shoulders, his head buried in between your thighs, mouth working overtime against your dripping cunt. he keeps his gaze on you the entire time, watching your expression contort in pleasure as he parts your lips with his thumb, pressing the pad of his tongue against your sensitive clit, swiping the muscle side to side. you let out a soft moan, hands tangled in simon's dirty blonde locks, pushing his head down further.

"fuck-! just like that, please, feels so good..." you mewl, causing him to groan, his own hips rutting against the sheets, staining the fabric with his pre as he greedily sucked on your sensitive, pulsating nub.

you missed this. this overwhelming feeling of pleasure that hinders your thinking, preventing any coherent thought from entering your mind. you couldn't think, see, nor feeling anything aside from the heat pooling deep inside of you. if simon could unravel you this much with his mouth, how much more damage would he be able to do with his cock?

the thought alone was enough to send you over the edge, but just as you were about to let the feeling override your senses, simon pulls back and sat up, the lower half of his face covered in your arousal, a slick sheen coating his lips and his chin. "fuckin' delicious," he grunts, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

you let out a needy whine at that, lightly kicking simon for edging you. "you're an ass..." you grumbled, to which the older man responds to with an amused chuckle. "won't be sayin' that when i fuck you with this thing." he says, grabbing his thick cock and resting it on your belly. you gawk in awe at his size, swallowing the lump in your throat. how the hell were you going to fit that inside?

"it'll fit." simon mutters, as if reading your mind.

he reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing the small condom packet next to his lamp. he rips off the foil with his teeth, hurriedly slipping it on to his dick. simon's hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him. he grabs his cock with one hand, dragging it up your slit, rubbing the fat head against your clit a couple of times before positioning himself against your entrance. "ready?"

"hurryyy...' you whine.

slowly, simon began to sink his girth into your pussy, stretching you out with his fat cock to a point where pain collided with the pleasure. you clutched onto his arm, a shuddering breath escaping you.

"that's it, love," he said, voice raspy and strained as he inched further inside of you, "good girl, taking me so well... just a little more, okay?"

you nod. it's all you could bring yourself to do as simon finally bottomed out. he lets out a grunt, gently rocking his hips into you. he kept a steady rhythm, taking his time with each thrust. the slow, agonizing pace drove you wild, especially after he denied you an orgasm just a few minutes prior.

"bloody fuckin' hell..." simon groans, inhaling sharply as your walls hugged snugly around his cock. "not gonna last long if you're this tight, love," he whispers, burying his face into the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin. a desperate whimper escapes your lips, legs wrapping around simon's waist as you complain about his pace. "faster, please... i can't, it's not enough..."

simon simpers, pulling back just enough to leave the tip inside before slamming back into your warm cunt, ripping out a loud moan from your mouth. "that what you want, love?" he asks smugly.

"fuck yes—again! fuck, do it again, please!"

who was simon to deny such a pretty litte thing?

his thrusts begin to accelerate, slamming into you frantically, driving his cock in and out of your tight, wet heat. "fuck, si—ah, shit!" you whimpered, eyes watering with each pound.

simon's hand reaches down, rubbing his thumb against your clit in circles. "does your boyfriend fuck you this good?" he growled, reveling in the way you seemed to tighten up around him at the question. "fucking answer." he demanded, delivering a single hard thrust, causing his tip to kiss your cervix. you cried out at the intensity, shaking your head, sputtering out incomprehensible words with each slam of his cock into your pussy. "gotta him bring him over then. show him how to treat a pretty little girl like you."

simon's previously rhythmic thrusts were now eratic, hips slapping into yours haphazardly, his hand beginning to ache with each circle of his thumb on your nub.

it didn't take long until you were finally teetering over the egde. you threw your head back, "simon, i'm almost—SIMON!"

with a loud cry and a final roll of simon's hips, you both reached your peak. simon let out a strained groan, releasing into the condom. he leaned forward, sighing, and rested his forehead against your shoulder blade.

for a few seconds, you lay in motionless silence, the sound of your shaky breaths filling the space as you both tried to regain your composure.

“jesus christ,” simon eventually groaned, pressing a brief kiss to your shoulder. “you felt amazing.” he then gently eased himself out of you and rolled onto his side, lying next to you. “your boyfriend’s really missin’ out,” he added.

as you lay there, your eyes flickered to your phone, which had been buzzing non-stop. simon noticed your distracted glance and asked, “boyfriend?”

before you could respond, he reached over, snatching the phone from your hand. with a decisive motion, he placed it back on his nightstand, out of reach. he turned back to you, pulling you closer with a firm, yet gentle embrace.

“let’s not think about him,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “tonight’s about you and me.” he nuzzled closer, his touch warm and insistent. “how about we see if we can make this night even better?”

with that, he guided you back into his arms, ready for round two, the promise of a deeper connection hanging in the air. as the night unfolded, the two of you lost yourselves in each other, making love with a renewed sense of passion and intimacy.

meanwhile, your phone continued to buzz with missed calls and texts from your boyfriend, each notification a reminder of the unresolved tension. but for tonight, you chose to ignore it all, focusing instead on the moment with simon and savoring the connection and pleasure that had been so absent. after all, wasn't it his idea for you to leave?

[whendeeplybored]

My favourite thing about Zuko and Katara is that they both are the sun and the moon. They are red and blue.

Let me explain.

Obviously at first glance Katara is the moon and Zuko is the sun, right ?

Katara is a water bender. Waterbending is associated with the moon since the benders draw their power from it. Contrastingly Zuko is a fire bender who draws his power from the Sun. So naturally we associate Zuko with the Sun and Katara with the moon.

It is also a fully established parallel in 'The siege of the North' with one of Zuko's hardest bars:

But anyways I'm gonna guess you all know this :p It is all pretty obvious after all.

What is very interesting to me is this. Hear me out. When you really think about it. Traditionally speaking. A sun-coded character is bright, fierce, fiery, attracts attention and brings joy and hope.

Isn't that the perfect description of a certain 14-year-old hair loop wearer we all know ?

On the other hand, traditionally a moon coded character is cold, sensitive, empathetic, maybe grumpy and sad, a light that only glows in the darkness (if that even makes sense lol, I mean they might try to find glory and success by being on the wrong side of history). Again doesn't that remind you of a scarred pretty boy from that old ass Nickelodeon show?

So what I mean is that in the concept of the show Zuko = sun and Katara = moon but outside of that Zuko can very much equal moon and Katara can fit the characteristics of a sun coded character.

This Tumblr post describes another side of it so well:

The Sun coded character here is a perfect description of Katara especially in the Southern Raiders episode which explores a side of her we just don't talk about enough ! I know the episode creates loaaads of drama but we can all agree (I hope) that she had a lot of bottled up rage which just exploded and almost overtook her in that episode. And do I even have to explain the moon coded one is literally Prince Zuko of a corrupt Fire nation who fought to lead his people into an era of peace or ? He even fits the stereotypical one perfectly (he do be moody and grumpy).

The writers just gave this perfect duality to them both like uuurgh!!! The fact that, in season 3, Katara learns that waterbending can be pain and death and not just the healing flow of life she thought it was and then a few episodes later Zuko discovers that firebending is also life rather than just destruction. Like wow how genius !!

*sigh*

Bottom line is Zuko and Katara really are the twin flames they think they are. 🙂‍↕️

Two raging purple flames.

[alicentflorent]

I have had to unfollow so many supposed Alicent fans because of their support for the bastardisation of her character. I didn't mind that they were Rhaenicent shippers but the way they're jumping through hoops to justify Alicent choosing Rhaenyra over her own family is making me want to pull my hair out!

What do they like about Alicent exactly? That she's a pathetic hypocrite who will happily side with the woman who slaughtered her grandson? Don't give me the whole "but Nyra didn't know!" bs. Did she punish Daemon? Did she show any remorse? Did she apologise for what happened? No, instead she demands Alicent accept the deaths of her sons to avenge Luke.

The fact of the matter is show!Alicent doesn't exist for Alicent/Team Green/HotD fans, she exists only for Rhaenicents/Rhaenyra stans who want to see everyone fall at the Dragon Queen's feet in worship of her.

You're absolutely right, she only exists for Rhaenicent and not even in a good way because Rhaenyra (understandably) looks down on her and Alicent's characterisation has to be thrown out and she has to make herself worthy of Rhaenyra by going against herself and what she fought for and they dress it up as her finally "doing something for herself" (which is what giving in to some kind of degradation kink?)

Realistically Alicent should have gone feral the moment Rhaenyra said "a son for a son" those were the words daemon used when instructing two assassins to kill one of the Hightower boys. Those are the words Heleana heard before being forced to point to her son who was then beheaded.

In the books Alicent says something like "how many must die for your thirst for vengeance?" why couldn't the show give her this line? why is Rhaenyra the only one allowed to want revenge? why is she allowed to call out alicent/the greens actions but Alicent isn't allowed to be angry and call out Rhaenyra/the blacks? Why is she going to Rhaenyra and debasing herself by confessing her sins and asking Rhaenyra to come with her? Her priority is helaena so why is she making a deal that isn't well thought out that will kill the father of Helaena's child and then going as far as to invite Rhaenyra knowing that Helaena's son was killed in Rhaenyra's name and Rhaenyra never apologised for it? She isn't liberating herself, she's betraying herself before becoming the queen in chains along with Helaena. As much as they defend it alicent choosing Helaena, this plan does not help Helaena.

Mind you, I've also had to unfollow or block certain "team green" stans who fell for the anti alicent agenda. Stans who will write meta's on how Alicent's sons have been done dirty by the writers while also hating on alicent for being so evil and horrible to her sons. Alicent has been rage bait for both sides of the fandom ever since 2x01, she has been humiliated sexually and politically for daring to choose the wrong side. I hate how she's been written but I can acknowledge that this is a clear attempt by the writers to punish alicent and reduce her to her relationship with Rhaenyra. I can also acknowledge that the most of team green have been treated similarly by the writers. In season one they made it clear that while she wasn't a good mother, she loved her kids fiercely and protected them and what have given her life for them. in season two we are constantly being hit over the head with the alicent is a hypocrite and a bad mother narrative and in almost every episode there is a scene of Alicent's bad mothering paralleling Rhae Rhee's good, loving mothering.

[lostintransist]

Boys' Home - Part 1

Do I know where the hell this is going? No. I'm gonna do it anyways. I am a good enough writer to figure it out.

AO3

You don't know how you ended up like this. Sigh okay, you do know how you ended up as the unofficial boys' home this side of the the mountain ridge. You take in one boy who escaped from the cult miles into the woods and suddenly the surrounding counties are dumping them on you as they find them.

It helps that your great aunt left you her big old house when she passed. Helped even more that she left you a small stipend to keep up on the property taxes and the maintance. None of your cousins would talk to you after the will gave both to you and left them with only baubles. It wasn't like you were ever close, spread across the country like dandelion seeds flung on the wind. It stung none the less.

Seth had been six when you found him. He had stumbled right into your path as you had been on your leisurely walk. Breaking down crying as he knelt on the packed earth path, you could only stare. The dark crust around his nails and the hollowness of his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. This wouldn't be the first child found, dead or alive, in this part of the woods.

Crouching down next to him you slid your backpack off your back. Scrounging through it quickly you pulled out an electrolight drink and the trail mix you had packed for yourself.

"Hi kid, can you eat this for me?"

The clean streaks of his tears stab at your heart. His big brown eyes are desolate.

"I need someone to eat this for me, the chocolate makes my tummy hurt. Can you help?" You offer up the trailmix again.

He takes the bag as if you would snatch it back at any point. The tears in your heart weep for him. Waiting until he has had a few handfuls of the food you offer the opened drink. This he grabs fiercely sucking down too much too fast.

"Whoa, whoa there friend," your hand shoots out tipping the lip of the bottle from his mouth. "If you drink too fast it will make your tummy hurt."

The glare he gives you is truly impressive, one of the best you have ever seen.

"How about this. You hold onto both of these, but why not have some the next time we stop. I need you to come with me, okay?" You put on the smile you learned from watching preschool teachers at the school coax children through the doors. Even though you taught high schoolers the communities around the area were small enough that all the children were bussed into one central school. A big old building from the seventies housed everyone well enough.

He stood, the thinness of his frame igniting a rage that would have burned the whole forest down and the cult with it. He followed you, docile even with more tears streaking down his face, all the way to the car. You buckled him in and drove straight to the police station.

Sherriff Pallas was less helpful than a deer with chronic wasting.

"Well, your options are to take him home and wait to see if anyone claims him or I have to turn him over to the state, and we all know how the state takes care of kids like him."

You did know. You doubted there was a record of this child anywhere, the cult kept off the grid. It was doubtful he could read, and since he hadn't spoken a word to you didn't know enough about him to even guess at his education.

Rolling your lips between your teeth you stared at the man who only won the election because he was friends with the mayor.

"This is the reason a murderer could live here and no one would be the wiser Pallas."

The mustache twitched as he plucked the insult from your words. Not giving him time to respond you herded your new charge back to the car. A call to the local foster mom had secured two weeks' worth of clothes for the kid and a trip to the grocery store ensured that he would have cereal to munch on if you could get nothing else in him.

No one ever came for him. Eventually, he started to talk and open up. His name was Seth and his birthday was in the winter. You decided that he wanted a February birthday. He chose the 23rd. By the time school started back up you had registered him for a birth certificate with the help of the helpful woman at the county records department, and got him started on vaccines with his pediatrician.

Life moved on like it does, slowly Reggie (10), Sam (6), and Darren (6.5) joined you and Seth in the old house. You were listed as legal guardian for each of them and took that role seriously. You boys, as you called them, roamed the trees around the house until sunset on any day that wasn't cold enough to freeze them to death.

The third day of summer break you are hanging the sheets on the line. The first week off school always saw you deep cleaning the house as much as you could. Screams of children have your head snapping to the trees. Those were not screams of joy and laughter, but of fear.

They stumble out of the leaves before you can take two steps away from the line.

"Mum!" They all called you mum, said it was easier that way. You didn't object, secretly loving the trust of the title.

Sam, ever the boisterous one, got his words out first. "Mum! There are men in the woods! They are fixing the old house!"

The other boys layered their thoughts on top of his words. The old house was the dilapidated house almost a mile from your own. The boys were not allowed to go inside for fear of the floor giving way.

"Boys!" You raised your voice and your hands in a calm-down gesture, "One at a time please, you know my ears don't work good with loud noises."

"There are men! At the house!" Darren spits these words out before his brothers can jump in.

Seth next, "They were carrying out old furniture and piling it in a dumpster." Ever practical your oldest told you what he believed to be the most important information first. They weren't allowed in the building, so why were the men?

"Okay, so why the screaming?" You look from face to face, settling on Reggie.

"There were three men we could see, but then there was a skeleton in front of us and we all screamed and ran."

Brows nearly touching you tried to logic out what he could possibly mean by that. When the others nodded aggressively in agreement you decided you would need to take a look. Hands settled on your hips; you sighed and gestured for them to follow you.

The walk through the woods felt extremely ordinary, except for the boys clinging to your shirt and one onto your not-torn back pocket. They chattered and fought as they normally do until the house came into sight.

Well, they hadn't been completely wrong. There was a skeleton, but it appeared to only be a skull face plate in the hands of a monster of a man. He caught sight of you first and called over his shoulder causing another three men to appear like mice when you kicked the corn sack.

It looked like you had new neighbors.

Part 2

Masterlist AO3

[pandorasfavorite]

hi, youre literally the best and i was wondering if you could do a smut where hes pissed off after a match and ignores his girlfriend aka the reader and you do the rest

Anger Management

An: I’m sorry I’m in a writers block :/ and couldn’t finish this (you can hate me 😅)

Dominik wasn’t really known for his temper; until he was in a match. I mean the way his face screwed up with rage when he lost was short of concerning. Normally he got so mad at the loss; that he would be prone to kicking things and yelling at camera men to leave him the hell alone. Though his anger wouldn’t completely diminish when he was with you, you definitely helped. The match he just lost was completely unimportant; it was practically a filler of time. Dominik had the right to be upset; but borderline fuming? Maybe not so much.

Despite his anger you were the best girlfriend to him. Therefore when Dominik stomped down the hallway (glaring at everyone while moving), his hard didn’t flatter like it normally did when he seen you. Dominik was not in a gracious mood. You opened your mouth to talk to him only to whip around when he walked past you in a fury. Your mouth dropped open and you laughed in disbelief as you walked him move down the hallway. “Dom!”, you yell loud enough for him to hear and your hands are thrown up while you speed walk towards him.

He doesn’t stop moving and you sigh when he childishly kicks a box. You couldn’t care less who Dominik ignores, but he was not going to do it to you. The more he moves the harder it was to catch up. “Dominik Mysterio!”, you yell and stomp down the hallway after him, watching him stop walking at you saying his full name… Every man knows that when their girlfriend says his full name; that means they are in deep trouble. Yet he crosses his arms and pulls his lips together when you stand in front of him.

You stand infront of him with your hand on your hips, “Why did you walk past me?”. He simply just shook his head and looked at the ground like it was the cause of his anger. You grab his gear by the chest and shake him ; he looks at you with deep anger set eyes. You try a different approach by rubbing your hands over his tattooed biceps and talking in a calming voice. “Am I talking to a brick wall or something? Hmm?”, you tease in attempt to lighten the mood. This time he shrugs you off and runs a hand through his hair; he was just ready to leave. But he was forever a gentleman and he couldn’t leave you behind; so he slipped his hand and yours and walked to the car; still ignoring your questions.

The same treatment was given to you in the car, each comment and question that went unanswered by him really mad you upset. He has no reason to be ignoring you; especially over a match that had no repercussions. You both walked into the house and you didn’t bother talking to him anyone. You took off your shoes and the door and stomped down into the bedroom; slamming the door right behind you. It felt good to say the least. You wanted so badly to throw yourself face first into the bed and scream into the pillow until your throat hurt. But you are adult now; you couldn’t act like a child. You wish Dominik would think the same way.

Dominik was so disappointed and angry with how his work life has been lately. Every match has been a loss and The Judgement Day had gotten onto him for it just before the match. So when he lost; Dominik knew they had words for him next Friday. Though now you were mad at him too; so he opened the bedroom door reluctantly. Your fierce eyes snapped to his from your spot in the middle of the room, “Are you going to talk?”. Dominik hesitates to say anything.

“Well then get the fuck out of here, I’m not dating a mime Dominik. You need to man the fuck up!”, you gritted put and waved your hands around obnoxiously. Dominik’s face went from guilty back to angry in .5 seconds and he stomped right on over to you. The back of his hand put a slight pressure on your abdomen and he pushed you back against the wall of the room. Then he grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand against his clothed cock, “This isn’t man enough for you?”. You scoff and look him up and down, “Ignoring me cause you lost make you a man?”.

He crouches down and picks you up off the floor, lugging you over his shoulder only to drop you on the bed. You gasp and smack his back in retaliation but Dominik smacks your ass for fighting back. Now Dominik is quick to crawl on top of you; he has a hold on your wrists above your head. “I’m so mad I can’t think straight, I didn’t want to risk taking it out on you”, he confesses onto for his eyes to roam your body slowly. His toungue wets his lips and his voice seemed to drop an octave, “Now I kinda want to take it out on you” he kisses your neck sloppily. You roll your eyes but his lips hit every pressure point; the gasp comes involuntarily and so does the acceptance.

Dominik holds your wrists together with one hand while the other hand holds your chin. “Can I fuck you, mi amor?”, the question rolled of his tongue like a sweet prayer. His lips were hovering just above your and you could feel his each and every breath. You whimpered; he was so close; and it was so tempting. But being ignored by him was far from okay in your eyes. You glare at him and try to tug your wrists from his hold, “Hell no”.

Dominik smirks; he loved the challenge, “Aww my baby is still mad at me” he cooed. “Don’t patronize me”, you huff with anger etched into your face. Dominik smile fades and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. His lips touch yours seamlessly and he pulls back to see you much more relaxed but with a complicated look. “I’m sorry hermosa, what can I do?”, he kisses you again, “what can I do baby?”, he bites his lip anxiously. “Never ignore me again”.

Dominik’s smile came right back and he laid wet kisses on your jaw. They moved down your neck and each kiss Dominik only got more erratic. He felt himself becoming less angry but the loss struck a nerve. He thought about it again in a flash, and when his mind came back to the present; the air only got thicker. He ripped the front of your shirt all the way off and pulled your bra down just enough for him to latch onto one of your boobs. His hands release your wrists but he just moves your arms to wrap his neck instead.

Dominik felt foggy and so pent up. Each match his adrenaline skyrocketed and the anger only made him feel so much more drawn to you. To your soft skin, curvy body, and even the way you smelled drove him into a frenzy. When he took off your pants he cussed; impatient as ever. Then zipper snagged, “Fuck” Dominik gritted.

He yanks your pants off and pushes your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through your soaked center. “You’re too sweet for me baby, letting me fuck you after a long day…so sweet”. His hands unbuckled his belt and the rattle was ringing through your ears so familiarly. One hand was touching you while the others was fumbling with getting his cock out of his boxers. He can’t wait the time it take it would take to completely undress you both.

You felt the tip of his cock and you pushed his arm, “I’m still mad at you”. Dominik lets out the most desperate whine, one so upset that you would’ve thought he was close to crying. If not for his leaking cock. He fights the urge to lay his head into your neck and whisper his begs. Instead he leans down and kisses you mutiple times on the lips in small pecks, “please please just the tip”, he shakes his head “please”. You purse your lips and act like you’re gonna say no, giving him a look that says “really?”.

Yet Dominik grinds against your inner thigh; only making this harder for himself. “aah just- mhm the tip mami” he whined and kissed your cheek. You hold his face in your hands now, “Okay baby”. Dominik’s face splits into an immediate grin.

He just barely pushed inside of you, only the tip and already he was begging for another inch. He was pulling your hips towards him and was groaning deeply each time you squeezed around him.

[miss-musings]

Parallels between Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader and Crosshair from "The Bad Batch"

GENERAL PERSONALITIES & EARLY LIFE

Both of them are fiercely loyal to the people they care about

Both of them are absolute SassMasters

Both have a scar/tattoo over their right eye

Neither had a proper childhood, as they were both trained for combat starting at a young age

Both have special abilities/enhanced senses compared to the average human, and they were trained (read: groomed) because of it

Both of them were part of a unique brotherhood (the Jedi and the clones, respectively) that, at one point, spanned the entire galaxy during The Clone Wars

Both have a complicated relationship with an older brother/father figure in Obi-Wan and Hunter, respectively

Both lost their right hands in a fight with an evil counterpart (Although, for Crosshair, this happens much later in his life)

POSSIBLE FORESHADOWING IN TCW Season 7?

As I pointed out in a separate post, in "The Clone Wars" Episode 7.02 "A Distant Echo," we get a moment of foreshadowing with these two characters.

In the episode, Anakin and his friend/captain Rex and the four original Bad Batch brothers are on a rescue mission together. About halfway through the episode, there's a moment where the six of them split up to search a tower. They're basically at a T-intersection, and while the other four go one way, Crosshair and Anakin go the other.

(Link to a gif post of the moment here.)

These characters literally take the same path.

By doing so, they are separating themselves from their loved ones (Anakin from his friend Rex, Crosshair from his brothers) and choosing the opposite path.

I realize this might've been unintentional on the writers' part, because I'm not sure if "The Bad Batch" series was in production yet when TCW Season 7 released, but holy hell! That's some insane foreshadowing right there!!

THEIR TURN TO ‘THE DARK SIDE’

Both betrayed their brothers and other loved ones by deciding to serve the Empire, and it's around the same time in-universe

Order 66 specifically becomes a pivotal moment in their respective stories. For Anakin, it's when he first takes on the name and mantle of Darth Vader and exterminates the Jedi; for Crosshair, it's when he's first torn away from his family due to the Empire's mind control via the inhibitor chip

Both have at least one opportunity to come back but decide to continue serving the Empire/Dark Side of their own accord (Anakin on Mustafar in ROTS // Crosshair on Kamino in TBB S1 finale)

While their battle attire was dark-colored before they betrayed their loved ones and started serving the Empire, afterward, both characters start wearing all-black armor

Despite all their loyalty and sacrifices, their masters/employers are ready to throw them away the minute they find a better or more convenient replacement

Both were burned while trying to kill their older brother/father figures

Both initially had hair, but after being burned and getting scarred on their heads, we only ever see them bald on-screen

Both seem to suffer from an "in for a penny, in for a pound" mindset, which is partly why they stay with the Empire for so long

While serving the Empire, both commit all of the war crimes!! 😬

Both have multiple scenes of them killing their own officers/troopers, and they both seem to take some amount of pleasure in doing so

Blinded by anger and rage, both are ready to hunt down their older brother/father figures at a moment's notice, and ultimately attempt to kill them several times (Vader in the "Obi-Wan Kenobi" series // Crosshair in TBB Season 1)

Both attempt to kill their own kid at least once. (Vader in ANH // Crosshair in TBB Season 1)

(Side note: if you don't think of Crosshair as one of Omega's dads, I recommend you review my post about S3 Crosshair speed-running Hunter's Dad Arc and/or my CrossDad S3 episode ranking. Because, if you're not on board with the idea that Crosshair is Omega's dad, you're not going to enjoy the rest of this post.)

THEIR REDEMPTION & FINAL MOMENTS

There’s a whole plot line about them trying to find their kid at a secret base (Vader in ESB // Crosshair in TBB Season 3)

When confronted by their kid, both characters believe they are undeserving or too far gone to be forgiven/redeemed (Vader: "It is too late for me, son" // Crosshair: "Omega. Don't risk anything for me. I belong in here.")

At some point, both characters' kids challenge them on their true intentions and decisions to stay with the Empire. (Luke to Vader: "Then my father is truly dead." // Omega to Crosshair: "I wanted to believe it was the inhibitor chip that made you like this, but I was wrong.")

Both of them ultimately find redemption and forgiveness because their blonde kid refused to give up on them (Luke to Vader: "I know there is good in you. The Emperor hasn't driven it from you fully." // Omega to Crosshair: "You're still their brother, Crosshair. You're my brother too.")

A large part of their redemption arcs is saving their kid from being held hostage and tortured by the Empire (Vader saving Luke from the Emperor & the Death Star // Crosshair helping Omega escape Tantiss both times)

While a much larger battle impacting the fate of the galaxy rages on nearby, both characters' final on-screen act -- the climax of their respective stories -- is saving their kid from one of the Empire's worst villains (Vader saving Luke from the Emperor // Crosshair saving Omega from Hemlock)

Both of them ultimately help thwart Palpatine’s plans for immortality/reincarnation(?) by destroying his primary body and his cloning facility on Tantiss, respectively

Their final on-screen reunions with their kids are very personal and emotional. For Vader and Luke, it's the only time they see each other face-to-face. For Crosshair and Omega, it's the first time they ever hug on-screen.

Their last lines of on-screen dialogue are talking about their daughters with another family member (Vader to his son Luke: "Tell your sister you were right" // Crosshair to his brother Hunter: "If I'm off -- I can't risk Omega.")

The final shots of them on-screen are a 'family portrait' type pose with their older brother/father figure and other loved ones, and their kid/s are nearby

(This list is subject to edits/additions if I think of anything else! If you have any ideas, include them in the comments or reblogs. Thanks!)

[libellule-ao3]

Desiderium Patris Indigni - 🔞

OS written for @tamayula-hl 💚

NSFW - 🔞 | Sebastian Sallow x OFC | 5 000 words

Tags: emotional hurt/comfort | established Relationship | smut | pregnant sex | fatherhood | POV Sebastian Sallow | introspection

Summary: Haunted by his past mistakes, Sebastian fears he may be unworthy of his future role as a father and of his child's love. And in Sakurako's arms, another battle rages: one of a desire as fierce as it is vital, driving him to want her more than ever despite the doubts eating away at him.

A/N: Originally, this OS was meant to be a mix of hurt/comfort and a bit of fluff. 😅 However, pregnancy is often a period of reflection, not only for future mothers but also for future fathers. Given everything Sebastian has been through or done in Tamayula’s HC, I couldn’t help but explore how his past actions affect him in his role as a future father. But you know, with Sebastian, it’s almost inevitable that emotional intensity leads to smut, so…

Extract (NSFW) and link to AO3 under the cut:

He imagines his fingers brushing against her satiny skin, exploring every inch of her body, transformed by this pregnancy that he both cherishes and dreads. In the hushed darkness of the living room, the pressure burning in his belly becomes increasingly unbearable.

Sebastian closes his eyes and lets his hands slide down his torso until they reach the opening of his pyjama trousers, which he unbuttons with a feverish movement. With a silent flick of his wand, he activates a lubrication spell.

A sigh of relief escapes his lips as he takes hold of his rock-hard erection. His fingers tighten around it, moving with swift, precise motions over the reddened, glistening tip before sliding firmly up and down along his length. Over and over again. His breathing quickens as his thoughts drift, carried away by the image of his cock sinking into her warm, moist flesh. He almost feels her against him, the suffocating heat of her curvaceous body, her hips pressing against his, taking him in.

The pace of his hand accelerates, the warmth of his fingers firmly clasped around his sensitive shaft. Each back and forth brings him closer to his release, wave after wave. His muscles tense. A trickle of fresh sweat slips between his shoulder blades. The tension in his lower abdomen swells, then contracts into an incandescent ball ready to burst. He imagines her round figure, her thighs opening to welcome him, the hypnotic undulations of her breasts, her silky hair scattered across the crumpled sheets... and when he hears her lust-broken voice in his mind, it’s as if an electric shock runs through every fibre of his body, propelling him towards that point of no return where he loses himself completely in her.

Oh, he’s so close…

A/N: Apologies for any possible grammatical errors or awkward phrasing. I don’t always cross the language barrier without causing a bit of damage (ESL writer).😅

Masterlist

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 9)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader, Jake Kiszka, x OC

Word Count: 17.6k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Lying, Allusions to cheating, Deceit, Arguing, Yelling, Mental and Emotional Manipulation, Vulnerability, Kissing and Sexual Themes.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: The final chapter! Thanks so much for sticking this one out with us. Major shout out to @gretavanmoon who bore the brunt of this last chapter as I experienced some mental burnout. This wouldn't have happened without her fierce dedication to this story. I hope you love the end of this story, and keep your eye out for what we are cooking up next.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

JAKE POV

Your clenched fists are still resting on the cold metal elevator doors, your forehead falling down to join them. Fuck. Fuck fuck…everything is fucking ruined for real, now. Why did you have to let your urges get the best of you last night? Everything you could have had…

Your fists pound a few more times as you hear a commotion in the hallway behind you, realizing that a few people had now joined you in the quiet corridor. You pull away from the elevator doors to gather your thoughts, the rage rushing through your bloodstream as you pace the hardwood floors. You’re mad. You’re so fucking mad. At everyone, and at everything. But mostly, you’re disappointed in yourself.

“What the fuck do I do now?” you murmur as the strangers board the elevator, giving you a few tight smiles and nods as the doors close on them. You feel like you could take on a hundred men, let your fists fly and your tongue shoot daggers at anyone who dared walk past you. But you know that’s not you. It’s just the adrenaline, the disappointment, the regret…

Angry tears are pricking at your eyes as you rush back to the room, feeling as if you could walk right through the wall. This is it, it’s all over. No more. It’s done.

You force the door open and hear it hit  the wall behind it, finding Isla still wrapped up in the bed sheets as she stands beside the bed, your phone in her hand. 

“Isla, what the fuck are you doing?” you shout, feeling your face grow hot. Her mouth is gaping open, the look on her face one you’re oh-so familiar with. “Is that my phone?”

She turns the screen to face you, showing you the photo that you had taken of Y/N in that not so innocent position a couple of weeks ago, with yourself buried inside her. You rip the phone from her hand, completely embarrassed for yourself, and for her. 

“Real fucking classy, Jacob. And I went through your texts with her, too! What the fuck?! You were lying to me all along ! This whole time!” she screams, pulling the sheets up over her chest.

You can hardly see straight. Your vision is blurry and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your hands go numb and you feel your face absolutely burning with wild rage. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Isla?!” You scream, feeling as if your voice isn’t your own. You squeeze your phone in your hand before launching it across the room, watching as it smacks hard against the wall, leaving a mark in the drywall before it falls to the wooden floor. 

“That is a complete invasion of privacy! I did not give you permission to do that! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout, letting your hands come up and cover your eyes. You can’t even bear to look at her anymore. “You know what? Get out. Get the fuck out of my room. Now.”

Your chest is heaving and you can hear her starting to mope, letting out exasperated breaths as you hear her throw the sheets back onto the bed. You finally uncover your eyes but you still can’t see straight, you’re so blinded with rage. You busy yourself with whatever the fuck you can do while Isla gets dressed, haphazardly throwing her things into her bag as she barks out bursts of bitchiness again. 

“How fucking could you, Jake? After all we had, after all this… I came here for you, you slept with me, and now I find out you’ve been fucking her all along?!”

“I told you I was sleeping with her, Isla! Goddamnit! You asked, and I told you… I don’t know what the fuck else you want me to say. I didn’t… I didn’t mean for last night to happen, you know that always fucking happens with us, and I regret it, already. All of it…” 

You hear the sobs come through her nose as she stuffs her things in her bags. “Where the fuck do you want me to go Jake?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I don’t know. I don’t really care, at this point. I didn’t even invite you here,” you shoot back, almost defeatedly. 

She huffs a sarcastic laugh. “Just like you… have sex with me, really good sex with me… then toss me away after. That’s all you’ve ever wanted me for, anyway. Just a good fuck. Nothing’s ever gonna change with you, is it? You’re always gonna be a fucking jerk…” she rambles, reigniting that flame in your chest. You step closer to her, close enough to feel her breath on your face. 

“Don’t you ever accuse me of that, Isla,” you growl through gritted teeth. “Do not ever fucking take it there. That could not be further from the truth, and you fucking know it.” If you weren’t blind with rage before, you sure as hell are now, accusing you of only ever wanting her for that. 

She picks up her phone and taps around the screen. “You’re the love of my life, Jake. But I swear to god I question why I’m even with you every single day…” she pulls the phone up to her ear. 

“We aren’t together, Isla! You need to get that through your head!” you yell, raising your hands up in the air. “Please, get the fuck out of my room!” 

She puts her phone onto speaker and you hear Lyla’s voice on the other end. 

“Hey, Ly? I’m coming to your room. What’s the number?” you hear her throw on her fake tears as she speaks. She throws her bag strap over her shoulder as she brushes past you. “No, I’m not fine, I just need to get the fuck away from him for a minute.”

A minute… A minute?!

Is this ever going to fucking end?

On her last word, the door slams in your face. You stand in the middle of the room, catching the breath that you’d essentially been holding for the past five minutes. You can feel a cold sweat beading up on your face as you replay everything that happened and all the horrible decisions you’ve made. The look on Y/N’s face just now… All of it came rushing back as you felt so out of control of your life, you nearly blacked out with regret. Regret for even saying yes to that date with Isla all those years ago. Regret for allowing her to stay here this long, and using her as a toy to make Y/N jealous. But mostly for what you did last night. Stupid, stupid. 

The thought of having sex with her last night churns your stomach, and that’s how you know for a fact that you never want to have her in that way ever again. No matter how well you mesh together in that capacity. The way you feel when you’re with Y/N trumps it altogether, the emotions she drags from you outshining everything you ever had with Isla by a landslide. 

Suddenly, things make a little bit of sense. Suddenly, a tiny bit of clarity hits your swirling mind. You feel as though you could harness all of the negative feelings harboring themselves within you right now, march downstairs and find Y/N, throwing everything to the wayside as you confess your feelings for her. Tell her exactly how you feel. God damnit, do you…? No, the feeling is too strong. It’s more than that. It’s an overwhelming feeling of respect for everything that she is, everything that she ever will be. All the beauty she naturally carries and the pride she has within herself. And you’re fucking whipped for her.

But you don’t even deserve to give her that satisfaction. She deserves the world. She deserves you at your best, rid of all your demons and baggage and horrible moods. And way deep down, deeper than it’s even comfortable enough to think about, you know that Murph is probably giving that to her. He’s probably giving her fun, and comfort, and making her laugh… He’s probably loving her just the way she should be loved, the way you could be loving her.

That realization doesn’t help the fact that you feel like pressing your boot against his face, though. 

You walk over and pick your phone up from the floor, already expecting the worst. It’s cracked and damaged, the screen resembling a perfect spider web on the corner. “Goddamnit,” you breathe as you fall back down onto the bed. Just as you’re catching your breath, the alarm on your phone goes off, letting you know that you have a smooth fifteen minutes to get dressed and downstairs to meet the rest of the guys to head to soundcheck. 

You wonder what Y/N is doing right now. Is she crying, still? Or is she with Murph, letting him comfort her for something he has absolutely nothing to do with? The whole thing puts another sickening feeling in your stomach as you run your hand over your face, knowing that you need to take the fastest shower known to man. 

Your phone dings with another notification, and you’re surprised the thing even wants to make noise right now. You look down to see Josh’s name in the groupchat. You carefully slide your thumb across the shattered screen, cursing yourself for not putting a protector on it while you had the chance.

Josh

9:46AM: Good morning bitches! It’s a beautiful day! Get your asses downstairs

You roll your eyes at his positivity as you drag your body up to stand. As you make your way into the bathroom and start the shower, you hear your phone sound with a different notification. 

The screen is lit up with something that used to bring you so much joy, but now seems to be a vessel for communication that sends a wave of sadness straight to your gut. 

‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

A song you hadn’t even thought about since high school, ‘Don’t Speak’ by No Doubt. 

She didn’t want to talk. This is her way of telling you to stay away.

You let your phone fall back down onto the counter as you listen to the song play out, already dreading the fact that your day is only going to get much, much worse.

—

HER POV

Your entire body feels numb as you rush out of the elevator door, your eyes blurred and sticky from fighting back tears once again. 

How fucking could he? Is everyone lying to you? He must really still love Isla, nothing makes any fucking sense…

You’re pacing down the ground floor hall to your room, hoping to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone along the way. You bring your hands up to cover your face, your frozen fingertips burning against the warmth of your face. It’s almost as if the rage you feel has manifested itself, ready to fly free as you replay the scene you’d just walked in on over and over in your mind. 

Isla is so gorgeous… perfect in every sense of the word. Of course he slept with her, how could he not? The look on his face once he realized it was you washed over you again and again, embarrassed and ashamed, already mourning every single thought of what could have been.

You didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want to speak to him. Ever again. You pulled out your phone and pulled up the music app, opening your shared playlist and adding the only song that you can think of at the time that would get straight to the point of telling him not to bother you anymore. Don’t Speak.

It felt sudden, it felt jolting… especially considering the rollercoaster of emotions the two of you had shared since he made this playlist on the plane. So many ups and downs in so little time. You had to give him that, at least. He’s made you feel more than anyone else has in a long, long time.

Like an old friend you truly didn’t want to see, someone presented themselves in front of you, grabbing at your arms with their strong, steady hands. Even through the blurriness of your tears and the racking of sobs in your chest, you knew that it was Ezra. 

“Baby, whoa whoa, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he begged as you cursed him for happening to find you in the hallway. “Come here, why are you crying?” he asks, trying his best to take you in his arms. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, Murph. I just– I’m fine, promise!” You try to play it off by sounding more sincere than the situation constituted, but there was no way you could divulge the actual reason for your unhappiness. 

“No you aren’t, baby… Tell me, you want me to walk you back to your room?” he purred, his normally gruff voice now calm and comforting.

“No, I swear, I’m just having a moment. But thank you, I’m–I’m almost there, anyway…” his arms were gently wrapped around you as you finally met his eyes, pleading and full of so much worry that it almost made you cry even harder. This sweet, sweet man, caring so much as to stop what he was doing and console you. 

The two of you walk a few paces more in the direction you’d been headed, his body language telling you that he was still yet very concerned. “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, his deep brown eyes scanning yours.

You purse your lips, using both hands to wipe away the remnant tears as you try to dry yourself up. “I just… can’t.”

He nods slowly, “Alright, babe.” He cups your face, using both thumbs to wipe away your tears as he bends down to your level. “You don’t have to tell me… let’s just get you back inside, okay?”

You nod, letting him pull you further down the hall. “This the room?” he asks. 

“Yeah, this one here,” you say as you pull your room key from your pocket. You unlock and open the door, wanting nothing more than to crash into the room and cry alone in peace. Murph stands at the doorway, not wanting to be too forward and let himself all the way in, all the while still wearing that horrified look of worry. 

You turn to him, placing a soft hand to his chest. “Thanks, Murph. I promise, I’m fine. I’m just being a girl, ya know. Hormones and stress and whatnot,” you lie, making you feel the strangest sense of guilt. 

His soft smile makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, his strong arms reaching all the way around you and embracing you in a warm and comforting hug. “I had a really good time, last night. Been thinkin’ about you all morning, thought about you all night…” he says softly. “Just kinda threw me for a loop when I saw you crying, after I left you that note I just thought–”

“Well you thought wrong,” you interrupted him. “That was the sweetest thing to wake up to. I was actually really upset that you’d left so early…”

He smiles again, this time with a bit more relief. “Really? I mean, I’m sorry… duty called and I just couldn’t wake you up. You looked so pretty and peaceful,” his words are soft as he pulls a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You sure you aren’t mad at something I did? You don’t regret last night?”

You shake your head, feeling a little clarity. “No. No regrets.” His sweetness makes you want to melt into a puddle. You’ve really never had someone show affection in the same manner as Murph. “I’ll see you later?” you ask as he steps back from the threshold. 

“Yeah, babe. Hope you feel better.” And with a sweet wink, he’s disappearing back down the hall. 

You feel hysterical as you fall face-first into your bed sheets, letting the tears you held back find their place in your eyes once again. You don’t really deserve to cry, as you’ve found another route of happiness in Murph, but still yet, you allow yourself to be upset at the fact that Jake had the audacity to be intimate with Isla again after so much time telling you how much he didn’t want her anymore. 

So you cried, for a long while you cried… before you decided all of your tears were being wasted on something you had no business being upset about. You drag yourself from the bed and begin running a bath, throwing in a few pumps of body wash to make a bubble bath. You toss your clothes onto the floor and test the temperature, finding it to be perfectly scalding hot.

As you let your muscles sink down into the velvety smooth bubbles and hot water, you realize that you haven’t even told Ruth about your night with Murph, yet. You dial a FaceTime call, propping your phone safely behind a few bottles as you cover your exposed self with the white fluffy bubbles. 

“Hey bitch. Oh my god, are you naked?!” she wails when you finally see her face lighting up the screen. 

“No, Ruth, I have my clothes on in the bathtub. Yes, I’m naked you idiot,” you reply with a laugh as you pull your hair on top of your head. 

“Ugh, I love you but I don’t love you that much. Anyway, what’s up? Why is your face red?” she asks as she crunches down on a baby carrot.

You just stare at her on the screen, waiting for her to read your mind. 

“Have you been crying? You’ve been crying, why? What happened? Assface Jerkhead Guitar boy? Don’t tell me Muscles Van Gorgeous made you mad… which one? Which one’s life am I sabotaging?” she asked in succession, making a smile find your face for the first time in a day. 

“Neither Ruth, neither…” you sighed. “I just… I finally hooked up with Murph last night.”

“Oh my GOD! You’re kidding. Fuck yes, okay… how was it? Where? After the concert?” she asks as she adjusts herself in her seat and pulls her feet up underneath her.

“Yes, after the concert. We had an excellent time… and I managed to make Jake jealous, somehow. He was with Isla of course, and I guess he saw me and Murph getting comfy and he fucking texted me, Ruth. Asking me what the hell I thought I was doing?” Your hand flew up into the air above the bubbles as you spoke. “Anyway, I ignored him. And me and Murph kinda… had a rendezvous in his truck in the parking garage of the hotel.”

“You sly bitch…” she growls cutting her eyes. “Okay, and how was it? Was he everything you ever dreamed of?”

You nodded hard. “Yeah, he was…” you filled your cheeks up with air. “Fucking great, honestly. He’s so nice and sweet, but I could tell he has another side about him, ya know?”

“He a freak, ain’t he? Tell me he a freakkkkk, Y/N…”

You laugh. “I don’t know about that, but he definitely isn’t vanilla, thank god. Anyway umm… So this morning, I remembered that Jake added a song to the playlist last night that was basically saying he didn’t want to fight. And I didn’t either. So I decided that I would go and try to clear the air with him while Isla was there, there was no way I was going to leave things like they were. So, I went down into the lobby and got coffee for him and Isla. I was just going to drop it off and do my due diligence and apologize… leave it at that so they could go on with their lives.”

“You got her a coffee?! Okay, ballsy! I hope you spit in it…”

“RUTH ANN! Take that back!” you yell, letting it echo through the bathroom.

She shrugs. “I’m just sayin’. Continue…”

“Annnnnyways, Isla opened the door, and she was standing there, half naked and wrapped up in their bedsheets. Jake was um. Getting dressed behind her.” You feel a bit sorry for yourself as you pick up some bubbles in your palm, blowing them into the air and watching as they fall, joining the others in the sea of soapy white suds. 

“That dog.” Ruth growls. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“So what did you do?” she asks, sounding a bit defeated herself as she cupped her chin in her hands. 

You sigh hard as you rub your wet hands over your face. “I put the coffees down, stormed off, added “Don’t Speak” by No Doubt to the playlist so he would get the message to leave me the hell alone, and then Murph found me in the hall. Saw me crying. Thought he’d done something wrong.”

“No, not my sweetums Erza! He could never! Did you tell him he was perfect and beautiful and kiss him?”

You laugh at her ability to always keep things so lighthearted. “Yes, well kind of. I told him that I was just being a crazy woman with crazy woman feelings. Bless his heart, he is the actual sweetest. Anyways, now I’m calling you.”

“So, you’re pissed. And you’re crying. So what are we gonna do?” she presses.

You sigh, your mind traveling a million miles a minute as you wish you could just pull the drain and let yourself flow down the pipes with your bathwater. “I don’t know, Ruth. I tried, I really did.”

“Okay, here’s the plan,” she brushes her hands against one another. “Murph has done nothing wrong, right? He’s innocent, here. Maybe he deserves all of your attention.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to even associate with the male species right now, Ruth! I hate them all,” you bellow through a fake forced laugh. 

“Okay. So just keep doing your job and try your best and just see how everything goes. But don’t be a bitch to Murphy, he gives good D and we want to keep that momentum,” she says. 

You cover your face with your hands again. “Ruth, I swear to god… Ugh. Listen, I have to get out of here and get dressed. See what other fresh hell awaits me at this next show.”

“Ok, boss. Clean it up, add more feminine energy songs onto the playlist. Maybe some Alanis Morrissette or Fiona Apple perhaps? Little Miranda Lambert? Let him know that you are a bad bitch that don’t need no man?”

“I’m hanging up Ruth! Love you!”

“Adios, whore!!!” she yells back as you reach up and press the red button, taking a breath before pulling the plug of the tub. You realize it’s time to put on your game face, deciding that making it through these next few shows without another damned argument was going to prove more difficult than you anticipated.

—

JAKE POV

Though your mind feels like mush, your hands feel like they’re razor sharp, going through the motions of soundcheck with ease. Sam’s only shot you a couple of side-eyes as he apparently has picked up on your bad mood, but you hope that he brushes it off. 

You’d spent the majority of soundcheck eyeballing the crew from behind your tinted glasses, watching as Murph is hovering a lot differently than he normally is. That’s interesting… 

Your suspicions are justified as you watch Y/N walk past him in a hurry, and his entire body lights up as he turns into her, resting his hand quickly on her lower waist as she giggles and pulls his hand away. Nail, meet coffin.

Fuck. Yeah. They…

Danny was right. They definitely slept together. You can see it in their body language. God damnit. 

But, what the hell are you gonna say? You have no dog in that fight. You think about asking her about it, being transparent in the matter, now knowing that she knows you slept with Isla. You truly think about it as you slip your guitar strap over your head and hand it back to your tech, watching her intently from across the large room as she does her duties. 

“Hey, man. C’mere a second,” you hear Sam’s hushed voice in your ear. You’re snapped from your thoughts as you follow behind him, wondering what the hell he needs to talk about. He turns to make sure you’re behind him and you flash him a puzzled look, so he lifts his hand up and nods for you to just follow.

You follow him to the side doors and outside, watching as he stands with his back against the wall of the building. He fishes his hand in his pocket and pulls out his smokes, lighting one and inhaling a puff more quickly than he usually would.  You close in on him, his eyes working to search around to make sure you’re alone. He looks a bit anxious as he offers you a hit.  

“What’s up?” you ask him, your heart rate picking up a little as you lift your sunglasses to your head. His face is contorted and panicked, something you rarely see out of him, especially right before a show. “You alright?”

His smoke blows quickly from in front of his face as you inhale some yourself. “Yeah, ahh, no… not really? Need your advice again, I think… Remember when I busted into your room that night drunk off my ass and chattering on about… ya know….”

You nod slowly, recounting the night all too well. “I remember.” 

He clenches his jaw together as his eyes continue to scan. “It’s gotten worse, man. I dunno, Lyla is just… urgh, she’s grating on my nerves. I don’t know what it is lately, but it’s like we’re suddenly two completely different people. We argue a lot, we never agree on anything… She's one person with me, and a complete other in front of everyone else. She makes me feel so guilty, man. Wants to settle down and start a family and shit when that was the first thing we talked about when we got together, that I can’t promise that stuff right now. She makes me resent myself, our careers, being with you guys… I get no support whatsoever, anymore. And it always feels like she’s hiding something from me. Completely different wavelengths. And it’s like I don’t even wanna be around her… I swear I’ve kinda almost lost…”

“Lost all attraction to her?” you finish for him.

He nods. “Yeah. Exactly. Isn’t that awful of me? Like why did this happen out of nowhere?”

You ponder his question, sympathizing with him more than he even knows. “It probably didn’t come out of nowhere, Sam. It’s probably been festering for a while.” You eye him as you pass his cigarette back. 

He shuffles his feet around as the wind picks up. “Is this how you feel with Isla?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, kinda, but worse. Like, way, way worse. And I kinda fucked it up even more last night…” you admit, suddenly feeling like you had to tell somebody.

“Oh no, what did you do?”

You swallow harshly, the memories of your lips all over her body last night now making you feel sick all over again. You look back up to him with eager, telling eyes. 

“No, Jake. You didn’t. You slept with her? After all–”

“Yeah, Sam, fuck. I did. It was a complete moment of weakness. I swear, I don’t know what it is about her, but she lures me back in every single fucking time, and I hate it. I swear, I hate it. I hate myself for it. But it happened, and I regret everything about it. And then Y/N fucking had to walk into my room this morning and see Isla half fucking naked…”

“Ohhhh my god, no!” Sam yells with a little bit of a smile on his face, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth. “You’re kidding me, wow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, laugh all you want. I royally fucked everything up so horribly I don’t even know what to do with myself,” you wave a hand in his face as you physically feel the pressure on your shoulders. 

“Damn,” he finally relents, “You are worse off than I am. Sorry.”

You take a deep breath, shaking away the negative thoughts and feelings. “S’alright, I guess.”

“You ever think that Ly and Isla are like, master conspirators but also just like… are trying to lock us down or something?” he asks, his question actually throwing you for a loop. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, running the dead cigarette butt along the concrete to extinguish it. 

“I don’t know. Since we’ve been on this tour, don’t you feel like things have changed with those two? I mean they’ve been best friends since they could walk, and everything with you and Isla back home, now she is acting almost just the same? Doesn’t it feel a little bit strange to you? Almost like they plan on making sure of the fact that they’re going to be here for the long haul?” he says. The thought hadn’t really crossed your mind, much, but now that he mentions it… 

Sam always has had a way with seeing the end results of a situation before they even play out, picking up on people’s intentions before they even portray them. It kind of all makes sense, though. The two of them planning Isla’s trip here behind your backs, both of them being extremely needy but ignorant to the fact that you and Sam are inherently becoming more and more unhappy, not caring one bit about the state of your wants and needs…

It suddenly all makes sense. 

“Have you been being careful, Sam…” you say without an ounce of question in your voice. 

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“Good. I think you might be onto something… some stupid master plan that they have going, something just feels off,” you say, turning your back to the wind. 

“It most definitely does. And honestly, I don’t think Mia has a damn thing to do with it,” he says. 

You shake your head. “Me neither.”

“Are we crazy?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. 

“No. I think we should trust our guts. I already told Isla to get the fuck away from me this morning and go find you guys… Who knows where she even ended up,” you move to make your way back inside. 

“They ran off. Haven’t seen them since,” he says as he follows you. “I do think you should go and talk to Y/N, though.”

You stop in your tracks, hearing him suggest that. “What? Why?”

“Because, stupid, you really like her. And I really like her. And I’m sorry I caused that big dramatic episode back in Ireland. That was uncalled for. But you should go clear it up, she might appreciate you being forward about it.”

The thought alone makes your joints feel stiff, the dread weighing heavily on you. Maybe you should…

“I think she’s cozied up to Murph, now. Not sure she’d even want to be in my presence if she didn’t have to be,” you whisper as you reenter the main part of the building. Your face grows hot at the mention of Murph’s name, still feeling that deep residual jealousy.

“You might be surprised,” he shrugs. “Seems to me like you guys just used other people for retaliation. That alone has to mean something.”

Just like the universe had stepped in when you needed it least, you turn the corner and run right into Y/N. “Oh, fuck, sorry,” you apologize as she nearly drops the pile of towels in her hands. You watch as Sam walks away behind her, mouthing ‘perfect timing!’.

“Don’t worry about it,” she barks as she tries to keep making her way past you. 

“Hey, Y/N,” you stop her, completely unknowing of what the hell you are going to say, but taking Sam’s advice anyway. “Can we… Can I–”

“No, Jake. We can’t. Please leave me alone and let me do my job,” she says with a hint of sadness in her voice, but still enough force that you don’t want to press too much. 

You let her pass, watching her as she saunters quickly down the hall. “I miss you, Y/N…” you say, the echo of your voice reverberating off the walls. She slows her pace, and barely turns. If you’re going to say something at all, you’d better say it now. All in the open.

“I fucked up. I fucked up badly. And I’m sorry. There will never be anything I can say to take any of that back. And I know you probably don’t want a damn thing to do with me anymore, and if that’s so, then I can respect it. But I just wanted you to know that, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time. You make me crazy. You make me think about things in a way that I’ve never thought about before.” You take a breath as her eyes meet yours, full of hurt and a sorrow that swallows you right up. You take the opportunity to take a few steps toward her, closing the space between you just a little. 

“When you’re around I feel a happiness that nothing else in the world can give me, or has ever given me. Nothing compares. And that’s the god’s honest truth. I don’t– I don’t let people get to me, Y/N. But ever since you came into my life there was nothing I could do about it. You knocked me down. And I know that you’ve… moved on, from…whatever this was. And, I get that… just know that I am so sorry. And I’ve found clarity, and even if you decide that I’m worthless to you, just know that you always meant more to me than I was ever able to explain.”

The hall is silent as your rambling comes to an abrupt halt, the feelings of defeat and hopefulness simultaneously taking up space in your chest. Her eyes are still deep and hollow, and you watch as her lip quivers just a little as she glances at the gap still between you. Her eyes shoot to the ground as her hand comes up to wipe a stray tear away. “Have a good show, Jake.”

—

A while later, you’re gathered in the jam room strumming on an acoustic as your eyes are focused on nothing at all, the air drying out your corneas so harshly that you have to remind yourself to blink every minute or so. You’ve replayed your conversation, well, speech, to Y/N earlier in the hall probably over a hundred times now, wishing you had said other things, explained a little differently, scooped her up in your arms and told her she is everything you have ever wanted and more… 

But the thoughts become interrupted every few minutes as Josh would yell something particularly loudly or Danny would hit a hi-hat a bit too harshly. 

“Hey,” Josh says as he’s suddenly in your bubble, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Staring contest with the wall?”

“Yeah, and I’m fucking losing,” you say as you twist the guitar down to rest on the floor. You bring your thumb and fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose, realizing that you need to start getting your energy up a bit so as not to make a fool of yourself on stage when the time comes. 

“You gonna make it? Want me to slap you across the face a bit? I could ask Ty to, it works for me, sometimes…” he offers with a chuckle. 

You smile, knowing that you quite literally do need a physical slap in the face right now. “Nah, thanks though. Probably just need a stiff shot of a spirit or two.” You pull your battered phone from your pocket to check the time. 

“Mother of god, what happened to your phone?!” Josh yells, pulling it down to inspect it. You give him a tight smile and raise your eyebrows. “Fuck, did things get bad again?” 

You inhale sharply, “Oh yeah. Really bad. Caught her going through my phone and my texts. Sent me over the edge, obviously.”

“Shit,” he breathes. “You break it, or did she?”

“I did. Threw it at the fucking wall,” you laugh at yourself, and the stupid memory.

“She see anything incriminating?” 

“You don’t even wanna know what she fucking saw…” you shake your head, hearing another commotion as Mia, Lyla and Isla all three enter the room. Just the feeling of Isla’s presence sends a cold chill over your body, one that’s full of some of the deepest unexplainable distaste for someone that you have ever felt. “Well, if it isn’t the Three Musketeers!” you announce spitefully, shoving your guitar into its stand. You’re met with Josh’s eyes the size of dinner plates. 

You feel fire rushing through your veins as you realize your body is putting up a protective barrier for itself, a defense so definite that you feel like you are outside of your own body as your legs carry you to stand right in front of Isla.

“Why are you here? I thought I made it very clear that I told you to stay away from me,” you spit, uncaring that you are about to do this in front of everyone.

She scoffs, crossing her arms and avoiding your eyes. “You didn’t mean that, Jake. Come on.”

“Oh, I meant it. I meant every single word. Actually, why are you even here? Why did you follow me to Europe when before I left I told you to please vacate my home, and not contact me?” you bark, feeling a confident fire rising within your chest as the words fell like a venomous poison.

The room is dead silent. 

“Jake, quit messing around, are you really doing this right now?” she avoids your gaze again, and you know that you are getting to her. She’s normally held very true to being able to hold eye contact, even when she’s lying. 

“Yeah. Yes. I’m really doing this right now. We’re all family here, huh? Let’s talk about it in a place where you can’t twist my words, where you can’t manipulate me into thinking I’m crazy, hmm?” you say, earning another scoff from her. “Did I not ask you to please move out, to please not contact me, to please understand that I wanted to end this relationship?”

She rolls her eyes and her tongue around in her mouth as her body language stiffens. “You told me you wanted a break, not to break up…”

“Oh but I did, Isla. You just decided that that break, that I agreed to simply to get you off my back so I could leave my house to get on a fucking plane, mind you… ended exactly when you wanted it to end. Without any conversation with me on said subject. Isn’t that right?” You are reeling, your words are absolutely burning your mouth, but it’s as though you aren’t speaking them. Your conscience is doing the talking for you. “Who said you got to make that decision on your own?”

“Jake, please stop, you don’t mean any of this… we had such a good night last night, please!”

“No, Isla! I won’t stop. This is what I want. This is what I have wanted for a long, long time. Does everyone hear me?!” You motion around yourself. “I don’t want you around me, I don’t want you in my home when I get back to it, I didn’t invite you here, and everything that has happened between us since you got here has been a mistake. A horrible mistake that has done nothing but ruin everything for me. Do I need to be any clearer? Or do I need to write it down for you?” Your chest is heaving with rage, and pride in yourself. 

You glance around to everyone else again, still completely silent as you watch Isla’s face finally drop. “Is that crystal clear to everyone?” You feel all of their heads nodding slowly in agreement. “Good, great. Isla, is that clear?” you ask her directly. 

Finally, finally… she nods. “Yeah, fucking crystal, Jake. I won’t bother you ever again. Good luck fucking up your whole career…” she says as Lyla rips her out of the room by the arm, toting her along. 

“We won’t let him! Because that’s what family does! We support each other!” Sam yells at the both of them as they exit the door. After he speaks, he meets your eyes with the biggest stupid grin on his face, as if he was seeing if you heard him. You hear a snicker from Ty and Josh. 

Alright, maybe this went better than you thought it would.

The tension in the room seems to subside a little as everyone catches their breath. “Mia, do you want to follow them?” you ask as she cozies up to Danny’s side. 

She shakes her head. “No. I’m staying here.” Danny kisses the top of her head and sends you a grateful smile. 

“Good. Okay then.”

Just then you hear someone clear their throat from the doorway, breaking all of your attention away to see Y/N standing there, somewhat awkwardly. 

��Um, sorry. Sam, Danny, they need you back in sound for a second,” she announces, clasping her hands behind her back. You watch as they both stand from their seats to head that way, Mia, Josh and Ty following closely behind to give you the room. 

It’s tense for a second as the two of you stand eye to eye, neither of you daring to speak first. Still riding on your confident high from the seconds prior, you decide to be the one to break the ice. 

“How much did you hear?”

She clears her throat again. “Enough.”

You lick your lips as you sit back down on the couch, replacing your guitar on your lap. “Sorry you had to see all that drama.”

“It’s okay,” she says, slowly making her way toward you and taking the opposite seat on the couch. “I think… I had some time to think about what you said earlier…”

“Oh?” you ask, strumming away. 

“Yeah. I was upset this morning, Jake. I can’t believe you… after everything you told me about her, and your relationship, you slept with her…”

“Yeah, and you just saw I admitted that was a grave mistake. I have absolutely no excuse for that, Y/N. There is nothing I can say to explain my behavior, other than a delicious mix of alcohol, old habits, being too fucking horny to function, and so insanely jealous of seeing you with Murph that I didn’t even care what the hell happened to me next.”

She stays quiet as your tune fills the awkward silence in the air. 

“Just tell me you slept with him, Y/N. Rip off the bandaid, just tell me so I can process it and get it over with,” you beg, your voice flat and blank as you finally make eye contact with her. 

“Yeah, I did. I slept with him,” she says. 

You nod slowly as you begin your staring contest with the wall again, your fingers aimlessly traveling across your familiar strings as your heart plummets to the floor. “Was it for retaliation?”

“No, Jake, I– It wasn’t. I like Ezra, he treats me really well, and we get along–”

“Oh, Ezra, huh?! We’re on a first name basis, now. Interesting…” you say with probably a little too much bite. 

“Oh don’t fucking start, Jake,” she complains. “You have no leg to stand on, right now…” 

You hold up a defensive hand. “I’m not starting, I’m not arguing,” you continue playing, speaking softly. “I understand why you did what you did, and I’m in no place to have an opinion on something that isn’t my business, right sweetheart?”

She nods. “Right.”

Her radio buzzes, announcing ten minutes to stage. You laugh through your nose at the horrible timing, standing as you place your acoustic on the stand again. You turn to her, taking her chin in your hand as you peer deeply into her eyes. “I’ll be here when you realize he can’t give you what I can. When you realize you can’t stay away from me… When you realize everything I ever said was true, and that I’ll grovel at your feet until time stands still if it’ll make you realize the depth of my feelings for you.” You give her flushed face a couple shakes before you release it, stepping toward the doorway. “My wine’s in my bag, baby. Don’t let me down again.”

And with that, you race down the hallway, hearing the sound of your fans screaming your name, ready to give them, and her, the show of a lifetime.

HER POV

If there was any character in the entire world who made you feel as if you wanted to spout obscenities while clawing at their skin, shove their face into the dirt and curse their very name all in hopes that it will all resurface as an emotion of daunting, ferocious admiration, it would be Jake. 

He makes you want to run for the hills and desert life as you know it, not caring for anyone or anything that may be standing in your way as you jump over rocks and roots, swim through deathly waters and starve yourself for days on end if it meant that it would be him waiting for you in those very hills you were running toward. Your relationship has been nothing short of hateful, fervid and passionate, the both of you skirting along the lines of vengeance and intimacy so opposite of one another that the toxicity scares you. Or more, encourages you. 

Maybe it took the both of you performing grand acts of backstabbing for you to realize that maybe your feelings for him were more than you thought… Maybe being with another man has given you the push you needed to come to terms with the fact that no one has ever made you feel like Jake does. No one has ever made your heart beat as quickly, or your thoughts jumble so effortlessly. He’d put a spell on you, digging his claws into your skin while he raked you along for the ride, and you had hardly even noticed how deep the claws were. Until you watched him realize that he’d made a horrible, horrible mistake. 

Being stuck between a rock and a hard place is an understatement; being in a constant state of back-and-forth with Jake had become somewhat of a habit that you’d gotten used to, no matter how disgustingly painful it was to admit. But Murph… Ezra… the unexpected knight in shining armor who’s charm won you over more smoothly than you’d even realized was the part of the story that made it all worth reading. Wholesome, gorgeous, protective and sweet… he’s everything you could ever want in someone if they planned on sticking around for a while. 

But your chest didn’t burn for him the same way.. 

—

Later that night, after you’d obediently made Jake his wine, you join Ty on the side stage to watch the show in peace. You gave him a hefty rundown of everything that has happened the past few days, much the same as you’d given Ruth, without the dirty details, of course. He gave you much of the same advice that she had, telling you that though Jake would never hurt you on purpose, he knows that he made a mistake and would spend the rest of his days paying for it. It hurt to know that he was working to reassure you how real Jake is truly being with you, still. 

“I think I’m really just overwhelmed… I got myself into a mess that I can’t dig myself out of, you know what I mean?” you rant to him as you continued to watch the show. “I’m actually kind of happy the tour is almost over. I managed to get myself tied up in a love triangle that’s truly gotten me nowhere.”

“I dunno about nowhere, I’m not on his team, but Murph must really like you if he’s stuck with you through all this drama…” Ty said. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that Murph didn’t even know about your relationship with Jake. 

“Do you think I made a mistake, though? Do you think I pushed Jake away for ever?” you ask him, feigning on that same rocky edge. 

“No, babe. You didn’t make any mistakes. Do you not know what you’ve done for Jake? Look at him,” Ty motions toward him as he throws his guitar around. “You helped free him. Even if things don’t work out for you, look at him now. Without the burden of Isla tying him down.” You smirk as you do see a different kind of pep in Jake’s step as he performs his most beloved craft. 

Like he can hear your conversation, he looks your way, sending you a sweet smile and a wink as he bites his guitar pick between his front teeth. Even after all this bullshit…

You glance down at Murph, walking around the rail with Josh on his shoulders as he passes out white roses, smiling and interacting with their fans as if they were his own. 

God, you don’t deserve either one of them.

The guilt that has begun to eat you up sends another wave over your entire body, weighing heavily on your shoulders as you fight to ignore it.

Do you have to choose? Do you have to pick which one of these two men is more deserving of your love?

“What if I can’t choose?” you ask Ty over your shoulder, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. 

“Then don’t. You know what I want, and you know what Josh wants, but you have to put your own happiness first, babe. Maybe you should just choose yourself for a while…” he says, lying a sweet hand of comfort on your elbow.

Ty’s words resonate with you as your guilt brings another tear to your eye; you suddenly realize that you haven’t put your own happiness first in quite some time. The real kind. The genuine kind. Come to think of it, you can’t remember the last time you really felt like your absolute self. 

As the show wraps up, you make it a point to disappear on purpose, rushing to clean up the craft table and do your duties under the radar so that you can avoid any more conversation tonight. You retreat back to your room unscathed, ready to take it easy for the rest of the night with a book and a glass of cheap hotel wine. 

As you drown yourself in chapter 3 of a book you couldn’t really even name, you glance at your phone lying next to you on the bed, the screen quiet and black as you wonder why you haven’t received even a single text message tonight. Maybe everyone felt that you needed some space.

You poke at the screen to light it up, only finding your clock and lock screen looking back at you. You pick it up and roll to your back, mindlessly scrolling social media for a few minutes to numb your mind. You cringe a little as you see professional photographs from the show tonight already littering your instagram feed, photos of Jake honestly looking happier than he ever has.

‘You helped free him…’

Even if Ty’s words were only said to make you feel better, you can’t help but notice that even the photos from tonight really reflected it. You don’t want to take responsibility for it, but it felt nice to know that you might have played a part in helping him to finally realize he needed to stand up for himself, once and for all. 

You open the shared playlist, feeling the draw to add a song that said quite the opposite of the ones Ruth had suggested earlier. You scroll around, finally landing on one of your favorites, ‘Give It Time’ by Sierra Ferrell. You hope that he is comfortably laid in his hotel bed much the same as you, and that he gets the notification and feels a little bit better, knowing that you haven’t completely written him off quite yet. You hoped he would catch the drift that you need to step back for a while, reevaluate and recenter, separating yourself from anything and everything for a bit.

You scroll up to the top of the playlist, deciding to play it through from start to finish. “Interlude 1’, let’s revisit you…” you say to yourself as you turn the volume to medium and lie your head down into the pillows, listening to the lyrics of this otherwise very different song. You know this album is one of Jake’s absolute favorites, so maybe it will help to ease the pounding still rolling around in your chest. 

‘Like all good fruit, the balance of life

Is in the ripe and ruin…’

Wow. The ripe and ruin…

As the final sip of wine hits your system, your mind starts to spin and find clarity all at the same time. Suddenly those lyrics started to resonate with you. 

Ripe, fully prepared. Ready to endure, ready to uphold, sufficient in readiness. 

And ruin, devastation. Pure and utter collapse. The slow disintegration of all the mightiness that once was.

“Fuck..” you breathe in a whisper, running a hand over your eyes as the words settled in and felt real. “Was I the ruin all along? Did I ruin it all for myself?” You press pause on the song, suddenly unwilling to listen to any more. 

You flip back over and pick up your phone, bringing up your text thread with Ezra.

You

12:46AM: Hey, can we talk?

You fingers tap nervously as you wait a minute or so before seeing his text bubble appear. 

Ezra Murphy

12:49AM: Sure, want me to come to your room or

You

12:50AM: Let’s meet, there’s a really cozy fireplace in the lobby that I feel like I need to sit by

Ezra Murphy

12:50AM: See you in a few :) 🔥

It’s only minutes later that you watch as Ezra’s eyes poke around the room off of the lobby, searching for you and the fireplace. He’s in an old gray t-shirt with some type of worn off black lettering, and a pair of slouchy flannel sleeping pants. He looks absolutely delectable.

When his eyes finally find you, he smiles a little, waltzing over to sit beside you on the stone bench beside the fire.

“Are you wearing slippers, Ezra?” you ask, glancing down to his feet. 

“It’s 1:00 AM, of course I wasn’t gonna tie my boots back up. Plus, these are lined with fur, and they’re comfy as hell,” he grins as he kicks his sock-clad foot out for you to see. 

You giggle as you pull your knees up to your chest, eyeing him adoringly. This is going to suck…

“Is everything okay, babe?” he finally asks, turning his body toward you. “You’ve had me worried ever since I found you cryin’…”

You take a deep breath, preparing for the rage that you just knew he was going to display. “That’s because I was lying to you, Ezra.”

His eyes grow as his jaw falls open a bit, looking for a response. “Lying about what?”

“I was upset, I am upset. I– egh, I’ve actually kind of been lying to you for a while, now. Well, not lying, just– not divulging the whole truth,” you explain, watching as his eyes search for more answers. 

You turn completely and cross your legs, taking his hands in yours. “Before you got here, Murph, I uh… I was sleeping with Jake…” the words feel hollow as they burn your throat. “We had become kind of serious? In a way, things were like, moving sort of fast, in a good way and… as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he kind of… has had Isla this entire time,” you explain. Murph’s jaw moves sideways a few times as he crunches his eyes closed, shaking his head in confusion. 

“So wait wait wait, he cheated on her with you? I don’t really know the ins and outs of their relationships or anything but… I– that would make sense as to why he’s been a complete jackass to me lately… he was some kind of jealous,  fuck…” he rambles. 

“He has?!”

“Yeah, but, that’s beside the point…” he waves it off, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. “Keep going…” 

“He didn’t necessarily cheat on her with me, he was under the impression that they had been separated for a while before she even came here, they were in an awful relationship, there was a lot of drama that I don’t really wanna get into right now, but. Nonetheless, he failed to divulge that she even existed. So I cut him off, a while before you even came around. Anyways, this morning I decided I would go to their room and drop off coffee and apologize and I found out that they had… ya know… after he’d said that he basically hated the ground she walked on.”

“So you– you used me? To get back at him?” 

“No no, you were a completely separate anomaly to me, Ezra. I’d already distanced myself from him once you came along. But– I just wanted you to know that that happened, and that’s why I was upset this morning, because I found out the hard way that he had slept with her even after telling me he had nothing for her anymore. I was just– a little fucked up over it…”

Murph shakes his head side to side as he huffs out a breath, looking around the room as he puts everything together. 

“Thank you for telling me, Y/N,” he says blankly.

“I should have told you a while ago. And I’m sorry, Murph. He shouldn’t be treating you badly, either,” you concede. 

“That part doesn't bother me too much. I’m used to my employers kind of treating me that way, but. Now I know why he’s had a change of heart. He saw me as a threat.”

“I don’t think you should look at it that way, Ez–”

“But he kicked Miss Isla to the curb…” he says, making you perk up. 

“How do you know that?” you ask.

“I had to escort her to the airport earlier, right before the show. She was a complete mess and wouldn’t even speak to me… word on the street was Jake told her she had to leave.”

You nod, realizing that he’d actually gone through with it this time. He’d actually made arrangements for her to be gone. 

“He really likes you, doesn’t he, Y/N?” he asks, his eyelids heavy as they meet yours in the light of the fire. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent her packing, otherwise he wouldn’t have been treating me like dirt…”

“I don’t know, Ezra, maybe. I can’t answer that for him,” you say honestly. “Everything’s just been so fucked up… I realized I was essentially a homewrecker, Isla flew off the handle, Jake was mad at her, I was mad at him… it was all just. A lot. And now I just– wanted to clear the air. With you, with everyone. I think I just need a little while to… ya know. Regroup.” Your heart hurts as you watch his face fall, you really don’t want this. You don’t want things to be this way. And then you remember the lyrics. Like all good fruit… 

“I’m so sorry about all of this, Ezra. I just want you to know that you weren’t some type of rebound or whatever, and I don’t want you to think I used you in retaliation. I was into you… am into you, very much so,” you explain with as much conviction as you can muster. “I hope you can understand where I stand with it all, right now.”

He’s silent for a second as he nods his head. “Thank you for listening to me, and not getting too mad at me, I hope. I’ve never met anyone else like you before, Ezra. You’re so easy, so laid back and sure of yourself. And I really appreciate you making me feel loved while our paths crossed.”

You can tell he’s a little distraught, but at the same time, you’ve got to ignore it. 

“I appreciate you telling me the truth, Y/N, even though I wish you would’ve done it a little sooner,” he smiles a side smirk, making your heart skip a beat. 

“I wish I would have too,” you say quietly, listening as the fire begins to crackle.

“So, what do you want?” he finally asks, his eyes full of false hope.

“I want– I think I just need to love myself for a little bit. Step back. I’m very much eaten up with guilt and strange taste right now, and I don’t want to put those vibes onto anyone else, if that makes sense,” you try your best to explain. “My mind is in so many places that I don’t think I can even think straight if I wanted to.”

He nods slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. “I get that. I could feel the tension within them, I understand.” He sends you a reassuring smile as he places a hand on your knee. “You were really good while you lasted, baby. Wish things could have gone a little differently. Don’t ever forget that,” he says. 

“I want to still stay friends, Ezra. Just because I’m distancing myself doesn’t mean we have to completely write each other off,” you laugh. “You brighten my days too much for me to forget about you.”

He stifles a laugh through his nose. “So, friends?” he asks, holding a hand out. 

“Yes. Friends. Please, I still need you to have my back,” you say with a joking tone.

“That won’t ever change, babe,” he says, standing the both of you up as you begin to walk to the elevator. You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you stand outside the elevator doors, waiting for them to open so you can see him off. 

“Forgot you’re on the ground floor,” he says. “See you bright and early?”

You give him a quick salute. “Bright and early.” 

“Night, babe,” he says quietly, and you watch as the elevator doors close across the vision of his face. 

Back in your room, you tap your phone again, realizing that a good night’s sleep isn’t going to find you tonight. Oh well, you presume… a nap in your downtime will definitely be in the cards. Just as you’re getting comfortable in your puffy sheets, your phone buzzes with the first notification you’ve gotten all night. 

‘Jake has added a song to the shared playlist: 🐥’

Oh my god… he saw it. 

You unlock your phone and scroll to the bottom, seeing that he had added a song that you hadn’t heard in many years, one that reminds you of your high school years, going to your first festivals and discovering a new type of music that you’d yet to delve into.  ‘I Will Wait’ by Mumford and Sons. 

Of course. Of course he will wait. 

You feel a shudder of emotions that you can’t quite comprehend, knowing that despite it all, he still is sticking to his guns. 

…So you decide to stick to yours. 

You close the playlist, pulling up the itinerary for the remainder of the tour and pinning in certain places you want to visit, and things you want to see. Places you will most likely be visiting alone. Tears prickle at your eyes as you remember all the sweet things Jake had done for you, all the things that he’d said, all the love that you’d made… so for the second time today, you let yourself feel it. Let yourself bask in the sadness so that tomorrow, hopefully, you’ll have emptied all the tears you had left, leaving absolutely none left to cry.

—

December 7

Departing Lisbon, Portugal

You know those redemption scenes at the end of romcom movies where the main character is walking around, looking at all of their ex friends, ex foes, and exes, giving them all reassuring smiles and small waves while the sun shines above them, and upbeat pop music plays in the background?

That’s how the days following your conversation with Murph had gone. Exactly like that. The animosity that had been sewing itself into the fibers of everyone’s beings had suddenly up and left, being replaced with something more joyful than you could have anticipated. 

Everyone felt a new air of peace surrounding the last few shows, and you spent your time burying yourself in your work, instead of worrying about what kind of argument was right around the corner. 

Jake treated you like a friend and coworker, offering nothing more but cheerful ‘good mornings’ and ‘goodnights’, giving you space to cordially speak to him first, and avoiding adding any more songs to the playlist. Ezra acted like nothing at all had happened, and he even caught you in a hallway once, telling you that Jake had come to him and apologized for treating him so badly.

It truly seemed as though everyone had turned a new leaf. 

As you walk through the airport parking lot ready to catch the flight back home to Nashville, you suddenly feel Mia at your side. 

“Hey!” she chirps, the wind blowing her hair across her face. 

“Hey!” you respond with just as much glee. You hadn’t really gotten a chance to speak with Mia one on one since the day that Lyla and Isla left, you being left with the feeling that maybe she still held some distaste for you. 

“Hey listen uh, I was just wondering if you’d want to get some coffee with me… one day, when we get back home? There’s this new little shop around the corner from mine and Danny’s and I really wanna try it out, I’ve heard excellent things,” she says, catching you completely off guard. 

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure! That sounds really fun, actually,” you say, not willing to turn her down in any way. 

“Great! Cool!” she replies as you both walk, a strange silence falling between you. “Hey um, I just… wanted you to know that I’m really sorry about how everything went down, with Isla and everything. I never really liked her, if I’m being honest, and… I just don’t want you to think that I’m that kind of person, too.”

Oh. Ohhhhh.

“Oh, no, Mia, you don’t have to apologize. Everything just got so fucked up and confusing and stupid, I think we were all just making really bad decisions and things just snowballed…”

“I agree. Still doesn’t make how she treated you any more right. How we all treated you. I should have told you about their master plan to get Isla here the minute they got her plane ticket. Poor Jake. I know now that she was so manipulative of him, and that is on me. I should have warned you both. I never even told Danny,” she admits, letting her face fall. 

“Seems like she manipulated more than just Jake then, huh?” you ask, suddenly making sense of it all. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Lyla is… she’s gone too, actually,” she says with a little bit of melancholy in her voice. “Broke things off with Sam. But I think he is like, really okay with it,” she snaps back into a laugh. 

“Is she?!” you squeal. “Wow, I guess I hadn’t even bothered to notice…”

“How things have changed, huh?” she asks as she opens the doors for you. “Anyways, I’ll see you on the plane. And I’ll text you one day later this week?”

“Yeah, sounds great. Thanks for chatting with me, Mia,” you say. 

“Sure thing, babe,” she says with a wink, darting off to find Danny and the rest. 

JAKE POV

“Are you positive that’s her seat?” you ask Paul quietly from the jetbridge, keeping an eye on her as you see her walking ten or so people back from you.

“Positive,” he says with a bit of sarcasm.

“Thank you. Good man,” you reply as you pat his shoulder, rushing ahead through the hordes of people boarding the plane ahead of you. 

You rush to find her seat, eyeing the rows as you finally find it. You shove your hand in your pocket, gripping the crisp hundred to make sure it’s still there, ready to be used just in case this goes south. There’s a middle aged man sitting in the seat beside hers, already kicked back comfortably with his headphones on. You tap his shoulder, getting his attention as he pulls his music away. 

“Hey, sorry to disturb you, but would you be interested in exchanging seats with me?” you ask with a little bit of haste in your voice. 

The man scoffs as he glances to his left. “It’s a window seat, buddy. Don’t think so,” he replies, pulling his headphones back up. 

“Please, sir… I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need to sit here,” you plead, hoping he can hear the urgency in your voice. But yet again, he meets you with nothing.

“Would this change your mind?” you ask, pulling out the hundred from your pocket and straightening it hard in his face. “Might get you a few cocktails at your layover… plus, I’d be switching you for first class.” You raise and lower your eyebrows a few times as you suck your lip in, hoping the last ditch effort will take effect. 

The man pauses and pulls his music away again. “First class? Why didn’t you say so?” he boasts, slapping his hand across the bill in your grasp as he stands and begins gathering his carry-on.

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply as you let him step by you, tossing your own backpack into the seat as you shake his hand. “Have a nice rest of your day, sir.”

“Sure thing,” he replies, and you know he was busy trying to figure out why you just paid him to take your first class seat. You plop into the uncomfortable chair, crossing your hands together as your elbows lie on the rests, waiting for her to approach the row. 

Your eyes close on their own accord as you pull your sunglasses back down, huffing a sigh of relief that phase one of your plan has officially commenced. Finally you feel her presence, gorgeous as ever as she is lost in her own little world, listening to her music and maneuvering her things between the tight rows of seats. She finally sits down beside you, completely unaware that it’s actually you sitting there. You smirk as she drops her bag, out of breath and flustered as she makes herself comfortable. How she doesn’t even clock you, you don’t know.

Just as she finally gets situated, her elbow knocks into yours, so you knock it back. “Excu– Jake?! What the hell are you– why are you sitting here? I thought they got you first class on this trip…” 

You smile with all of your teeth. “They did? You’re kidding, that explains why literally everyone else isn’t here…shit,” you playfully look around, hitting yourself in the head as if you hadn’t even realized. 

“Cut it, Jake. How did you mix up your own seat?!” she asks, wiping a few flyaways from her face. The smell of her perfume almost envelops you, sweet and sultry as you breathe her in for the first time in way too many days. 

“I didn’t mix it up. I just don’t like fucking with tradition,” you reply, crossing one leg over the other as you relax comfortably back into your seat. 

“Tradition?” she asks, her voice deflated as she rolls her eyes. 

“Yes. Tradition. We came to Europe on a plane side by side, we should leave Europe on a plane side by side. We shouldn’t fuck with it, might be bad luck,” you say cheekily. 

She smiles, but only a little bit. “Jake, this entire trip was bad luck, honestly…” 

You take a deep breath in agreement. “Touche, okay, but what if this plane ride home reverses that, and makes it good luck?” you ramble, honestly just saying words at this point. Anything to make her smile again. Make her cheeks turn that perfect shade of blush again… “We can’t discount fate, Y/N. It’d be foolish to do so. And neither you, nor I, are foolish.”

She bites her teeth together, stretching her neck. “You’re really crazy, you know that?” she finally smiles wholly. 

There she is.

You rustle with your watch hanging on your wrist, noticing it’s almost time for takeoff. “I know. But can you blame me?”

She shakes her head. “No, no I really can’t, after getting to know you and all your baggage…”

“Ohhhh! My baggage, huh?” you cross your legs again. “Well I’m here to tell you babe, that the only baggage I am bringing home is this backpack. And my suitcases. And the thousands of dollars worth of guitars and gear. But that’s it! That’s all this time!” 

Finally, she laughs. A real laugh. “Again, you’re really stupid. And honestly, why should I even believe you?” she counters. “Seems as though our relationship was solely based on lies from the get-go, hm?” Her voice had fallen a bit toward the end there, and you swear you felt a dagger shoot through your chest for the thousandth time in the past month. Twisting and turning itself as you realize the guilt is never going to go away. 

Her eyes meet yours with a heaviness, almost as if she’s asking you to pour your heart out, one more good time. After all, the morning she came to your room with three coffees seemed as if it was going to be full of good intention, but you just never gave her the chance to say her piece.

“I deserve that,” you nod. You feel the plane begin to shake as it prepares to take off, the pilot coming over the loudspeaker to announce departure. The two of you look out the window as the early morning sun begins to rise over the city, the tall buildings casting long shadows that look as if they reach for miles. You feel her shoulder press against yours as the plane begins to rush down the runway, finally taking off to make its way above the clouds.

You rise higher and higher in the sky, the bottomless pit sensation making your stomach fall as you ascend. When the plane finally evens out and your vertigo subsides, you notice her eyes still trained on the scenery outside. “Come on, look how gorgeous…” you suggest, urging her to lean closer and get a better view of what’s now below you.

She hesitantly leans again, the smell of her shampoo prevalent in her still-damp hair as she reaches across you. You breathe it in, memorize it, savor it as you know that this flight could be the very last time you ever feel her closeness. You feel her sigh as you both take it all in, leaving the place that saw both the downfall and redemption of one of the most convoluted experiences of your life thus far.

“It’s truly beautiful there, isn’t it?” she mutters, almost too quietly to hear. 

“Yeah, it really is…” you agree as you feel her relax back in her seat again, breathing a sigh of relief as the plane hits a little bit of turbulence. 

You decide to take the opportunity to speak again during this moment of shared adoration, hoping that the peacefulness of being miles in the sky mixes well with the eagerness you both have to finally get home again. 

“Y/N, I’m gonna say something, and you don’t have to believe me, fuck, you don’t even have to listen. And I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but… from the bottom of my heart, I want you to know that it’s the god’s honest truth. All of it.” You swallow as your words sound sheepish, quiet in the grand scheme of things when all you want to do is yell from the rooftops if it’d mean she’d listen. “Okay?”

“Oh–Okay…” she spouts, turning a little to show her attention. Her hands are gripping each other tightly, wringing against themselves as she knows she can’t get up and walk away from this. 

“I know I lied to you, held out on the absolute truth from the very beginning. That wasn’t me, Y/N, it never was me. I’d lived in this… this bubble for a really long time. Even though I thought I was happy, I knew deep down that I wasn’t, and it was only getting worse as time went on. I became the worst version of myself, Isla did too. I think in some weird, fucked up way, we brought the worst out in each other. The toxicity. And hers came from a place of possession, mine came from a place of my inability to communicate with her, I guess. Either way, I know I’ve told you the whole story a hundred times, but it took this trip for me to realize how much more me I finally felt when I boarded that plane to leave that day. And how much more me I felt when we started talking. Fuck, it was like I was physically finally far enough away from my demons that the clouds kind of dissipated, I don’t know.” 

You finally make a bit of eye contact with her, and she gives you a small smile, placing her hand on your arm as she knows this is a difficult topic. Either way, you persevere. 

“It hurts to admit this, and I’m not sure that I have ever really said it out loud, but… I’m fully aware of the fact that I was in somewhat of an emotionally manipulative relationship, and I allowed myself to fall victim to it, for everyone around me to fall victim to it. I know that I’m stronger than that. Did I have my faults? Of course, I’m not blind to that realization, either. But when you fall into that routine, it sort of becomes you, I guess. And I know for a fact that the decisions I’ve made in the past few weeks are just the ghosts of that. The lingering feelings, the bullshit I was too stupid to see past.” Your voice is grated as you give her your speech, one that you know you would give a thousand times if it would give you her forgiveness. Her hand flits up underneath her chin as she rests it, giving you her full attention now, her face riddled with concern and sympathy. 

“Sorry, I can shut up if you want me to, babe,” you laugh. 

“No no, go on, please…” she says, reaching to take your hand in her grasp. Her palms, so warm and inviting as she gives your fingertips a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay.”

You huff an exhale. “Y/N, I am not kidding you in the least when I tell you that you helped pull me from that place. Helped me realize so much. You put a mirror in front of my face that gave me the courage to finally extract myself from that situation. You–You made me feel the blood in my veins again, made me feel that urge in the pit of my stomach to want again, in every sense of the word. Hell, you can ask Josh, I’ve written four songs just on this trip alone,” you jest. 

“Have you really?!” she asks, her tone warm as her lips part into the most perfect smile. 

“Yeah,” you laugh, running your free hand over your mouth. “We’ll see if they go anywhere. But anyway…” 

You sit on your thoughts for another few seconds, letting them simmer as your throat continues to tighten. But it feels cathartic in a way, spilling your emotions. It's always been so easy to share with her. 

“I hate the way things ended between you and I, and I can’t take back the decisions that I made and the actions that followed them, and I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am. I just wanted you to know that you’ve been the biggest light in my life for a while now, and you gave me the strength to get my dignity back. And I can’t thank you enough for that.” You squeeze her hand again as you see the tears piling up in her eyes. “Just your presence has been enough to make me appreciate my life again. Appreciate the things in front of me, make me lust for them again. And I know that when we get home, we might not ever talk again, you’ll probably move on and tour with someone else, but just know I hold no animosity toward you, and I hope that we can stay friends.”

On your last word, a single tear finally falls on her cheek, a clear indication that her emotions are all over the place, too. 

“Please don’t cry, Y/N,” you whisper as you run your thumb along her tear line to catch the next one, threatening to fall just like the first. “You’re too pretty to cry.”

She pulls away and wipes them herself, fanning her face as she sniffles them away. “God, Jake, you know… you’re so easy to hate.”

Her words take your breath; all the revelations and admissions you just shared seemingly for nothing as she continues to clear her tears away. You open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off. 

“So easy to hate, but so, so fucking easy to love, too.”

You shake your head in confusion, your heart suddenly ripping itself from your ribcage. “What do you mean?” you mumble, barely audibly.

She swallows as she regains her composure, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leans her head back onto the headrest, eyeing you deeply. 

“I didn’t realize, at first, how much I really felt for you. How much emotion I wasn’t even letting myself feel, because I didn’t even know it was there. While we were sleeping together, and you were being so fucking sweet to me, it was so perfect, and so nice. I guess I just ignored it because I’d never really been treated that genuinely before. Never had someone pursue me so consistently and with so much momentum. But now I know, after everything, it was there. I felt it, and it was real. Even if I tried to ignore it, I felt something really, really intense with you.”

Felt. She felt that way. 

You brush away another tear, mirroring her and lying your head back on your headrest, too… your faces only within inches of one another. 

“Everything felt like a whirlwind, you know? It happened fast, and there were so many vengeful actions, even if we didn’t wanna call them that. We were both fucking stupid, you know?” she continues.

You nod. “Yeah. We were. But I guess I’m glad to know you felt the same way I did, even if we were both too stubborn to really admit it.” 

“You admitted it to me just fine, Jake. I was the one hiding from it all. And now I understand, I see that everything you said came from a place of authenticity, and I’m really sorry you had to go through all of that with Isla. That’s all so fucked up…”

You sigh and continue to brush at her cheek, wishing that things could have gone so differently, but ready to accept the fact that nothing in life worth fighting for is ever easy. And if this was the fight you’d have to be entangled in to get her back, so be it. 

“It’s alright. She’s out of the house now. Lyla texted me a couple days ago and said they’d found an apartment and would ‘No longer be a burden’ to me and Sam. Whatever. I’m just glad to have my home back to myself,” you reply, noticing you’re antsy to get home and rot on your couch in peace. 

Y/N smiles, turning her face to press a quick and sweet kiss to your thumb, the action nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. “That’s good. I’m proud of you, Jake. It took a lot of courage to stand up to her like that,” she says.

“Yeah… no more shackles,” you smile, grabbing her chin between your fingers. The two of you stay caught up in this position for a while, neither of you saying much else while you stare into each other’s eyes, sharing sweet wordless smiles every so often that make you feel even more at peace than you were before. 

It’s all out now, everything you wanted to say now existing in the air between you instead of bottled up in your chests. You know nothing is in your hands, anymore. You’re well aware that the universe has to take charge and draw out the map for your next journey. You know where you want it to lead, though, you know where you want to end up. But as of late you’ve learned to let things take their course, because if you try to force destiny before it’s ready, it will swallow you like quicksand, leaving nothing behind in its wake but broken hearts and words left unsaid. 

“Friends, Y/N?” you ask, finally breaking the stare. 

She takes your hand again, interlacing your fingers together as you feel the threat of sleep taking over. 

“Yeah, Jake. Really good friends.”

—

Late September 2024, Nine Months Later

Nashville, TN

HER POV

“I’m positive, Ruth. Go with the green one with the low neckline. It’s so flattering on your collarbones and he will go crazy,” you try and convince your friend as she works to pick an outfit for her blind date. 

“How do you know that, bitch? I don’t even know what this man looks like, let alone that he will think my collarbones are flattering!” she barks, tossing another outfit onto the bed in front of her. “Give me a whole ass break.”

“What’s got your panties in a bunch? Are you really this nervous? You go on dates like this all the time!” you argue, raising your voice. 

“Yes, I’m nervous, okay? My coworker said that me and this guy are like two peas in a pod and she could see me marrying him. Do you know how insane that sounds, Y/N?! I can’t marry someone, ew!” she responds as she slips out of the frame, still frazzled as she throws on another dress. “Ugh, this looks ugly, too. That’s it, I’m not going. I’m texting her right now and canceling–”

“The fuck you are, Ruth!” you yell as she picks the phone up and brings the screen close to her face. “You’re going on this date, and you’re wearing the gree– oh my god. Oh my god?” you say suddenly, your heart falling to your stomach as you sit back down on your bed. “Holy shit holy shit holy shit.”

“What? What?!” Ruth asks. “What’s wrong?”

You’re breathless as you stare at your screen in disbelief, your jaw hanging slack as you fight to find the words. 

“Y/N!!! Answer me!” Ruth shouts.

“Oh, sorry sorry, um. Jake just… just added a song to our playlist…”

“What?! Jake??? Like Jake, Jake? How long has it been since you talked to him?” she asks, panic written all over her face. 

“Since that day at the airport when we got home from Europe, almost nine months ago…” you say, your voice void of any emotion as you try your hardest to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “We–we decided to cut ties… just be friends…”

“Oh my fuck, Y/N, this is huge. Right? What song is it? What did he add?”

“It’s called Reasons For Waiting? By Jethro Tull? I’ve never heard of this… OH my god Ruth he texted. Oh my god what do I do help me,” you ramble, your heartrate picking up speed as you feel your hands grow sweaty from the singular notification buzz.

“Read the text, you idiot! And read it out loud!” she commands, tilting back her bottle of Twisted Tea she had been pregaming on. 

“Okay okay,” you say, clicking away from the facetime and over to your texts, your hands shaking as you click on the name you hadn’t read in months, though you thought about every single day. 

Jake

6:27PM: Hey stranger, hope you’re well. Was just hanging out and listening to music and some Alt-J came on, made me think of you. 

6:28PM: I went and saw that I still have our playlist saved, and noticed the last song I added was I Will Wait, and I’m sure you saw I added another song just now. I know you weren’t there for it, but during our last tour, this song played to the crowd every night right before we came on stage. It was always one of our favorites, especially mine. Kind of hits home in a lot of ways, and it sort of became the song that connected all of us to our fans, in a way. Anyway, I thought it would be a nice follow up to the one before it, so give it a listen if you don’t know it already. Let me know how you like it 🙂

“Oh my fucking god, babe. Go play it so I can hear too,” she says, and you click play on the song, still holding every ounce of the breath left in your lungs. The two of you listen to the song play out, paying special attention to the words and how the lyrics connect. At the song’s close, your hand flies up over your mouth as you fight the tears, the song already feeling familiar as your faint memories of hearing the guys sing or play it while you were in Europe last year come falling back.

“I remember it, Ruth. They played it all the time, Josh would hum it, Jake would play parts of it on his acoustic… I… What do I even do with this?” you say, your throat constricting with old memories. 

“Y/N, sweetie, this was an invitation. He reached out, finally… right?” Ruth says with a newfound softness in her voice. “You might not have noticed it, but you bring up Jake every single day, in one way or another, did you know that?”

“I do?”

“Yes. You do. You miss him, Y/N, and this was quite literally him saying he misses you, too. He had his reasons for waiting for you, and he has waited, it looks like. For a long time. Text him back.”

“No!” you shout, feeling a fear like no other. “I can’t! What will I even say?! It’s been almost a year, I–”

“Tell him you liked the song. Tell him you loved it, and that you remember hearing it. He’s just looking for contact, Y/N. Extending an olive branch. Maybe all this time apart is just what you needed,” she says, slipping back into the green dress you decided on earlier. “Does he still live in the same place?”

“I don’t know, how would I know?!” you ask, still panicked and teary. 

“Ask him, strike up conversation. You can do it, Y/N,” Ruth urges as she finishes getting dressed and putting her heels on. “I love you, but I have to go, I’m already late for my Uber. But I want screenshots of the texts, and updates on everything, okay?”

You take a deep breath, letting the emotions level out. “Okay. Okay yeah. I’ll text him back.”

“Alright. Love you, good luck and godspeed my bitch,” Ruth salutes as she hangs up the phone, leaving you staring at the text thread with Jake. You huff a sigh, trying to hype yourself up to type the text you’ve been wanting to type for nine months. 

You

6:39PM: Hey 😌 I remember that song well, actually. But I will admit, it sounded better coming from your acoustic

His text bubble pops up almost immediately, as if he was waiting for your reply. 

Jake

6:40PM: I don’t know about all that, now, but I appreciate the compliment

You

6:41PM: How are you? Overseas again?

Jake

6:42PM: I’m well, thanks… And no, we just got back from a leg in Australia and New Zealand, actually. Enjoying being back home

You:

6:43PM: Wow, I bet that was amazing. And home is…

Jake

6:43PM: …still Nashville, yes

6:44PM: Actually just put the finishing touches on my back porch fire pit. 

6:44PM: *attachment* 

The photo showed what looked to be his yard, a few wooden benches surrounding a metal fire pit with an already roaring fire. Jake’s feet were propped up on the pavers that bordered it, holding up a bottle of a beer you’d never seen before.

You

6:45PM: That looks so nice!

6:46PM: Though, I did spy that entire bag of unopened marshmallows sitting beside you…

Jake

6:46PM: I’m about to tear into them now. But, I don’t think I can eat them all on my own

You

6:47PM: I think I know someone who would be willing to help you put a dent in them at least, if you needed assistance…

Your heart pounds as you watch his text bubble fly up, immediately regretting inviting yourself over to his house after so long of having no contact at all. What the fuck, Y/N? He could have someone coming over already, he could have a completely new life, now. Regret, abort, unsend!

Jake

6:49PM: I most definitely need assistance. I’ll drop you a pin

6:49PM: Drive safe, see you soon 😉

His forwardness ignites a feeling in your stomach that you haven’t felt in a long while as you screenshot the texts, sending them straight to Ruth. You toss your phone onto your bed, and rush back to your closet to find the perfect outfit to go and see Jake again, for what would hopefully be the first of many bonfire dates to come. 

JAKE POV

Rushing to tidy up your place would be an understatement; you truly hadn’t planned on the conversation with Y/N going so well, so when she replied that she was almost there, you felt a wave of excitement that could only be cured by finally seeing her in the flesh again. 

Your hands are jittery, your palms are sweaty, and the anxiety in your core has you reeling, but you know it's for good reason. She’s really coming, she’s really almost here…

You throw another log onto the fire as you hear tires in your driveway, just as the sun is starting to set lower in the sky. You brush yourself off as you walk through your house, taking a second to check your appearance in the mirror as you pass by it. You crack the door open to find her already walking up the steps to your front porch, dressed in the prettiest yellow sundress you’re positive you’ve ever seen. Your breath escapes your lungs as she looks at you, gorgeous and beaming as ever. 

“Hey there,” you manage to get out as your heart pounds, “Thanks for coming.”

Her cheeks blush that perfect pink that you always loved so much as you grab her up in a little hug, her arms pulling you in tighter as you finally make contact. Her body still feels so good, so perfect as you feel your skin magnetically connect to hers. You both pull away, a flush of nerves overtaking the both of you after not having seen each other for so long. You make your way inside and back out to the fire. “Of course, how could I turn down free marshmallows?”

You guide her to the other empty seat and watch as she tucks her dress beneath her, sitting back comfortably. You grab a beer from the box beside you, cracking it open and handing it off to her. “Oh, so it was the marshmallows that got you here. If I would have known that, I would have sent you that photo months ago…” you quip, taking a sip from your beer. 

“Thought you were still traveling the world months ago?” she asks, her voice buttery soft as her lips connect with the bottle.

“I was,” you laugh, leaning back in your seat, as well. 

“Australia, huh? How was that?”

“Fucking amazing,” you say. “We love it there. Feels like a whole other world. But I will say it feels good to be back here, back on my turf, in my home. Finally, my home,” you say, trying to insinuate that you were, in fact, still single.

“You never let Isla come back?” she presses, getting straight to the point. 

You shake your head with furiosity. “Hell no. No. We haven’t spoken.”

“Good for you, Jake,” she says, her voice still absolutely dripping with honey as you take a second to admire her in the dimming sunlight. The fire is casting bright beams onto her face and exposed chest, and you have to remind yourself that this is just a cordial visit. Between friends. Just catching up.

You clear your throat. “And you…? Find another super cool band to run for?” 

She smiles as she shakes her head. “No, I traveled a lot, though. Took some time, went out West, visited Ruth and some family… I actually did the paperwork today to make myself available to tour again. Think I’m ready to get back out there.” She cocks an eyebrow as she crosses her legs, taking another long drag of her drink. 

You’re almost speechless as you watch her move; somehow she seems so much more sure of herself, now… so confident and comfortable in her own skin. Not that she wasn’t before, but something has switched. 

“Is that right?” you say, leaving the question open-ended to be discussed another time. “Have you uh, have you talked to Murph?” 

You’d contemplated not touching on the subject at all, but you figured there is no better time than the present to go ahead and rip off the bandaid, if there was to be one. 

She smiles as she bobs her head up and down. “Yep, have the wedding invitation hanging on my fridge. You going?”

Your heart warms at the thought, knowing that just nine short months ago, the three of you were caught up in something you were sure you’d never pull yourself from. But now, as time has held hands with destiny again, you find yourselves in a whole different dimension. 

“Of course I’m going!” you reply. “It’s our turn to take care of him while he gets too damn drunk to function. He and I uh, actually got kind of close on this last leg, we’re actually more alike than I thought we were,” you explain, pulling open the bag of marshmallows. 

“Wow!” she says. “And to think…”

“I know. Hindsight is 20/20. We talked it out, got over it. You know he got back with his ex a couple of months after we got home from Europe… she showed up on his doorstep saying everything was a mistake, how much she missed him and all that. Next thing we knew we were going to their housewarming party, and he was sending Danny photos of rings.” 

“You’re kidding me…” she says as you watch an overwhelming expression of sweetness and longing cover her face, her hand clutching at her heart as her lips pout. 

“Yep. We helped him decide on one. Got her a rock, too. He was so happy, Y/N. You know how he’s already so happy-go-lucky… he’s like a big ball of laughter and elation, now. Man’s head over heels. I like her, too. Sweet girl that gets those big googly eyes when she’s around him,” you say, internally laughing at the whole situation and how things have ended up. 

“That’s so good, Jake. I’m actually really, so very happy for him,” she says as she stares into the fire, going silent for a few seconds. You lift a marshmallow from the bag and toss it at her face, breaking her from her trance into the flames. “Hey!!” she squeals, picking it off her lap to throw back at you. 

“You mean you’re not jealous?!” you ask with faux surprise. 

“Of course I’m not jealous,” she says, again showing her maturity. She leans over and dips her hand deep into the bag of marshmallows on your lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d bargain that she left her hand there for a second longer than she needed to as her fingertips graze your inner thigh through the bag. She pulls one out, taking a big bite of it. “But I probably will need a date to the wedding, though… if you have any ideas of anyone I could ask…” 

You feel your lips curl up into a cheeky grin, hoping, praying that she means what you think she does. 

“Funny, I was gonna go stag, but… if you’d like some arm candy, I think I could like, hold your purse for you,” you tease, taking a bite of a marshmallow yourself as your eyes dig into hers. 

“You might want to start taking some dancing lessons now, Jake. You’ve got three months to learn how to do the Electric Slide and the Wobble,” she quips, shoving your shoulder. You take the opportunity to grip the handle of her chair, scooting her toward you so that your shoulders touch. 

You lean in close to her, pulling a bit of hair behind her ear. “The only dancing I’ll be doing is slow dancing, with my wedding date…”

You feel her swallow hard at your bold words and close proximity, but you hold true to it. To it all. It’s always been true. 

You place a firm hand on the back of her neck, expecting her to pull away, but she doesn’t. She moves in even closer, brushing her lips across yours as you just barely breathe in the essence of the sugar still on them. 

Her eyes flash up to yours as you hear her breath catch, and you know the fact that she isn’t pulling away is very telling. “Do you want to stay for dinner, Y/N?” you breathe.

“You mean these marshmallows aren’t dinner?” she asks, her cuteness almost too much as you can’t hold back a giggle.

“No. I’m making pasta primavera. Very fancy and difficult and special…” you say, tightening your grip on her neck again as her lips ghost yours.

“Mmm, sounds like you might need a hand. I should probably… stay and help…”

“You should… stay and help…” you take your hand from around the back of her neck, moving it slowly to grasp her jaw, pulling her slowly into a kiss that feels like it was a hundred years coming. Soft and gentle as you taste her again, your lips barely pressed together as you hear her slow inhale. Peaceful and right. So incredibly right. You part yours a little to let her in, wanting to feel her warmth again more than anything else. She feels so familiar yet so different, the sweetness of the whole exchange overtaking your ability to think straight. 

You feel her smile onto you as you disconnect, giving yourselves both a second to come back down to earth. 

“I’m… sorry, that was…” you say as you press your fingers to your lips. 

“Old habits die hard,” she laughs, the sound of it making you squirm with nerves. 

You’re both unable to speak for a minute or so, and you know for a fact that she is reeling just the same as you are. “So, you want to come inside?” you ask, finally standing and brushing your hands across your shorts. 

“Yeah, give me the grand tour….” she says, standing and following you through the yard. You stop and take her in, watching as her face is lit up and bashful from the kiss you both had been longing for for so long, now. 

You hold out your hand, urging her to take it as you top the steps, ready to start fresh with the only woman who has ever made you feel whole, and hoping that she’ll stay for more than just dinner. 

Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka

[la-pheacienne]

Alicent is unfortunately not the only lifeless portrayal in the show. I have to talk about my pookie. Daemon Targaryen, a fandom fave, grrm's fave (one of them), legendary, quintessential Targaryen prince, "both a great man and a monster", "the most admired, most beloved, most reviled in all Westeros", "made of light and darkness in equal parts", "to some a hero, to others the blackest of villains" (paraphrazing).

Now that is something isn't it? Except that I didn't see that Daemon.

The deal with Daemon is simple. Book!Daemon was, first of all, fiercely attached to his family and that part is extremely important for his characterization. That man was blindly devoted to his house, to his wife and to their kids, adopted or biological. That was his drive, that was his purpose, that was his inner logic. Secondly, that man was nuts. Genuinely terrifying, the "you touch my kin and you will be sorry you were born" kind of terrifying. The "I will not stop until I turn every single person who wronged my family to ashes, man, woman, or child" kind of terrifying.

And they violated his brother's will. They usurped his wife's throne. They murdered his boy. They dared make a fool out of him and tear his family apart, two clowns barely into adulthood, a whiny nun and an old man who faints at the sight of a dragon. These people did this to him. Like, can you even?

Daemon should be fucking seething. He should be coming down on these clowns like a ton of bricks. The mere mention of his name should make them tremble in terror. Blood and Cheese was his moment, and it was the moment of the Dance. Now Matt did a very good job conveying all of this up until Blood and Cheese but attributing Blood and Cheese to an oopsie severely underplayed Daemon's impact. Of course, the reason the writers made BxC a misunderstanding is simply the fact that they couldn't do otherwise, after what they did with Lucerys' murder. Show!Daemon, as he stands, could not unambiguously and straightforwardly order the murder of Helaena's son without turning into a cartoonish Ramsay type of villain, and this, because the writers have not established one of his two defining traits which is, again, his fierce, blind devotion to his wife and kids. Show!Daemyra is weak, Daemon's fatherhood is downplayed. This is a part of the general problem of the characters of the show feeling flat and vague in their motivations. The show may have included some intellectually stimulating changes, in all its anti monarchy blablabla glory, but in their effort to achieve that they stopped giving the characters space to feel, love, rage and form deep, unbreakable bonds with eachother which motivate the entirety of their actions. In the entire show the moments of pure, unfiltered, real emotion are extremely rare, and Daemon is a victim of that.

Since they have not established that emotional core for him, they cannot go full force on his vilest act either. The two go hand in hand. The one motivates the other. Of course you're gonna tell me that in the show, he still orchestrated Blood and Cheese and he is still technically responsible for everything that happened. Matt was still seething with fury throughout the entire episode. Fine. It is still far less impactful than the book version, far less powerful, far less horrifying, because the motivation behind it is flimsy, because Daemon's characterization is hollow. In the book, Daemon was both greater and meaner. He was just more, in every category. In the show, he didn't give me that "oh my fucking god" shocking moment I felt when I read the source material y'all call boring (!) in comparison to the adaptation.

Daemon's moral core is his family. Period. For his family, he becomes the blackest of monsters, without scruples and without mercy. That's what "light and darkness in equal parts" means. Both are necessary. The show ironically managed to dim both his good side and his evil side and turn this proud, fearsome, horrible, legendary Targ into a whiny man whose toy got stolen. Not the vibe. I hope they do better with the battle above god's eye.

[bumblebeehug]

In The Heat Of The Moment

Summary: An answer to an interview is the straw that breaks the camel's, or in this case, Lucy's back. She has never been this angry with Natsu before - and he's never been this angry with her.

Warnings: No explicit content, but lots of swearing.

Notes: Sorry if this is a bit OOC lol, I got itchy fingers last year and wrote 90% of this fic in one go with no prior planning. Only got back to it now, but hey! It's finished!

Ao3

***

Lucy was so unbelievably fed up with Natsu. Even looking at him had her filled with an indescribable rage, practically making her fume. That stupid, idiot man! She had never felt this anger before, not even against a tough enemy she was facing during extra hard missions. No, no words could describe the resentment she felt towards Natsu, not even coming from her, a proper writer.

“You just don’t get it Natsu! God, can you please try to use that non-existent brain for once?” She yelled in despair, tears welling over in her eyes from the heartbreaking frustration building in her heart.

“No, I don’t get it Lucy! For fuck’s sake, why do you have to be such a pedantic bitch?” His big hand grabbed her collar, making it tighten up significantly.

Lucy wasn’t scared, she told herself, because being scared of the person she hated the most was not only unbelievably embarrassing, but also just way below her standards. So she fiercely bit down on her lip, partly to make the tears stop flooding, partly to throw the fire dragon slayer off guard.

Natsu’s usually kind onyx eyes looked like angry storms, showing her the most spiteful stare she had gotten in a very long time.

“Maybe I’m a pedantic bitch because I’ve always had to balance out your disgusting childish personality all the fucking time. Do you have any idea of what a menace you are, not only to me or this guild, but to society?” She hissed, no longer holding back the anger she felt. Natsu, out of everyone, was the last person she wanted to hear those comments from, because frankly - he was no better than her in this matter.

Natsu pursed his lips. He had never seen Lucy this upset, and frankly, he hadn’t felt this upset since, well, Igneel left him in the woods as a kid. It had all started a few weeks ago, when he had been interviewed for a double paged article in Sorcerer's Weekly. He had gotten the usual questions, except two or three out of the ordinary. He was asked about random things, like his favourite restaurant and his best picnic spot - all manageable questions, until it came to the last one.

“Why did you leave the guild before it disbanded?” Jason asked, his lock of hair wiggling in the wind. Natsu of course answered with the usual - he wanted to get stronger for the guild after dealing with Igneel’s death. Only, this time he was asked a follow up question.

“Did you ever worry about anyone while you were away? Anyone particularly?”

“Well…” He had answered, “I suppose I was a bit worried about my team, but in general I was worried about everyone. I think out of all of the guildmates I might be the most fired up to protect everyone. There’s no telling what type of trouble could come to Fairy Tail you know.” That sentence wasn’t the problem though. It was the one that came after that. “I told Lucy to tell everyone hi as I left, but she probably didn’t manage to do that since she let the guild disband.” An innocent sentence according to Natsu. He had just commented on the letter he had given her, and provided a clue on what he had written in it - nothing more, nothing less, right?

The rest of the day was quite peaceful, not even any guild brawls starting up in the evening. It could probably be described as the calm before the storm, he learned the following day.

“You told him I let the guild disband!?” Lucy yelled as she entered the guild by slamming up the doors.

It was still quite early in the morning, though a lot of members came in early on Thursdays, hoping to grab quick high paying jobs before the weekend. Every step Lucy took was loud as she stomped to the bar where Natsu sat and the guild got quiet enough for anyone to hear a pin drop. Lucy waved the copy of the magazine in front of her before slamming it down in front of Natsu, disrupting his otherwise quite calm breakfast.

“That you were worried about the protection of the guild, when you ran off with nothing but a letter!?”

“What- what are you talking about?” Natsu asked, confused over the sudden accusation - coming from his best friend nonetheless!

“I’m talking about the interview from yesterday! What on earth made you say something like that?” Lucy took a small step back and crossed her arms. Partly to calm herself from the initial shock, but also partly to hide the betrayal she felt.

Telling Jason, and the entire continent for that matter, that Lucy didn’t succeed at contacting their friends in the guild because she let it disband? It felt like a shot in the heart, because she really didn’t think Natsu would ever say such a thing. She was afraid of it, but she told herself she was being paranoid due to her issues with abandonment. Now she was watching her biggest fears come true and she felt conflicted whether she was meant to be furious or depressed over it.

Natsu stood up from his seat and tried putting his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her. Not pleased with his half-assed apology, Lucy immediately shook him off.

“I don’t know what to say… I didn’t think he would write it down so literally I guess?”

He still didn’t understand where her anger was coming from. He had really just told Jason some things that he usually didn’t talk about—like his letter to Lucy and how he truly felt when he and Happy left to train. If anything he felt a bit proud for opening up more.

“But you’re admitting that you said it?” She opened the spread in the magazine, to properly quote him. “‘I think out of all of the guildmates I might be the most fired up to protect everyone,’ it says, and wait - there’s more: ‘I told Lucy to tell everyone hi as I left, but she probably didn’t manage to do that since she let the guild disband.’ Do you agree that that is what you said?” She looked into his eyes, still wishing Jason misinterpreted what he actually said, though now fretting to hear the truth.

“Well… yeah I guess I did say exactly that. I don’t know what you want me to say,” Natsu said, not understanding why Lucy was being so dramatic over some words.

He usually found her endearing when she acted dramatic over things but now he was growing annoyed. He really didn’t like that she was getting mad at him for telling his truth to Sorcerer’s Weekly.

Lucy fought her quivering lip. He really said it. And it looked like he really thought so too. That it was Lucy’s fault that the Fairy Tail guild disbanded—not that she was the cause of it, but that she didn’t do anything to stop it. Even if it was true–she didn’t know what to do at the time, knowing that Natsu and Happy left her with only a short, quite poorly written letter, still healing both physically and emotionally from the war against Tartaros. She felt sick to her stomach hearing it from him.

“I’d like an apology,” she said, her voice shaking slightly as she forced herself not to cry. “I want you to apologise for blaming me for a situation that you ran away from. Say that you’re sorry.” She said it louder this time. She refused to put up with his unfair claims, and she knew she deserved an apology.

“Okay. I’m sorry for telling Jason my true feelings, but that’s just how I feel. Sorry if you don’t think you’re not at least partially responsible for letting the guild disband. But you know that if I were there I would never have let that happen.”

Natsu knew he was pulling the wrong strings here, but even if he never said it, the knowledge that the disbandment could have—no, would have been stopped if he was there was enough to feel like the rest of the guild hadn’t tried hard enough themselves. Frankly, putting all of that blame on Lucy was unfair and untrue and Natsu knew it, but it was hard to take back printed words.

“Oh I know you wouldn’t let it happen, because Natsu Dragneel is soooo much better than everyone else here, right? No, fuck that Natsu. Because you. Weren’t. There. Alright?” Lucy clenched her teeth as she said it.

”You have no right telling us how little we tried to keep the guild together. You have no right to talk like you’re the only one who cares about what happens to this guild, because out of everyone, you’ve proven to care the least about the guild! What’s that about being the ‘most fired up about protecting everyone’ huh? How can you protect people if you’re. Not. There!” Lucy poked Natsu harshly in the chest as she said the last three words, feeling her cheeks heat up in a growing rage.

She hadn’t originally wanted to bring up this event. In fact, she had practically laid awake every single night during that disbanded year, telling herself to forgive and forget as soon as possible. Because she knew no one’s circumstance was easy to deal with and sometimes obeying master Makarov’s order was the only thing you could do in a crisis like that. She had really, really, wanted to leave all of this behind her.

“Do you know what I went through in that war? Do you? I lost my dad, Lucy. I had to see him get murdered by Acnologia. You might not have liked your father, but for the longest time you still had one—you just chose not to see him and for what? Some childish anger about him working too hard and ‘neglecting’ you? I would have switched places with you in an instant if it meant I got to know my father was alive and well.” His voice gradually rose as he spoke, and simultaneously a pit grew in his stomach.

He hated this. He knew very well he wouldn’t actually want to switch places with Lucy, because he knew their situations weren’t comparable, but the more he spoke the harder it was to back down from his words.

“Don’t claim you’d want to switch places with me Natsu Dragneel. Don’t you even dare. Your childhood was great thanks to Igneel and mine was horrible because of my father. I know you wanted to get stronger to beat Acnologia, I understand wholeheartedly. I can even say that it was completely reasonable for you to leave me—to leave all of us, but I can’t let you think that you were the only one who lost a dear family member.” Lucy had run out of breath, but was quick to catch it again.

“Wendy, Gajeel, Sting and Rogue all lost their dragons, their parents as well, you know. And I lost a family member, Natsu. What’s worse is that I had to break our bond, I broke Aquarius’ key. She’s the only thing my mom left me and I had to give her up to save all of you. I would do it all again in a heartbeat for all of you but I might never find her key again and I have to live with the knowledge that I’m the reason we can’t see each other.” Her tears were dangerously close to overflowing, but she held them back.

“So don’t use Igneel as a shield for your shitty actions, Natsu. No one would have stopped you from training here, hell, no one would have stopped you from running away if you only talked to me first! But you left a letter with only chicken scratch on it, and you didn’t even try to get in contact with me while you were gone.” Lucy felt herself yelling at this point. She had to, otherwise she would’ve stopped mid-sentence as she saw Natsu’s face change from stoic and indifferent—maybe a little upset—to hurt. But now the ball was in Natsu’s court.

“I wrote you a fucking letter Lucy,” he hissed through his teeth, “that’s more than I did to anyone else. What more do you want, huh? A tiara, a horse, a castle maybe? Why do you think you’re so entitled to everything?”

He was reaching now and he knew it. Her coming from a rich family had nothing to do with this argument, but he knew he couldn’t say anything else to answer her about Igneel and Aquarius. Because she was right. He just hated that she was. He hated it because she knew how to talk about her feelings, and he didn’t, which is why he spent that year trying to get ahold of himself. And he hated that she knew him so well, but that she couldn’t figure that small thing out. That he regretted leaving more than anything else, that he regretted the letter he gave her, that he regretted not reaching out. He was acting cowardly, and out of everyone in the guild, he really thought that Lucy would understand.

Lucy however was getting fed up with how he was making this argument more personal than it already was. What more did she want than a letter? She had already told him that she wanted signs that he had at least tried to reach out, to show her that he didn’t completely abandon her. Lucy was so unbelievably fed up with Natsu at this point. That stupid, idiot man! No words could describe the resentment she felt towards Natsu, not even coming from her, a proper writer.

“You just don’t get it Natsu! God, can you PLEASE try to use that non-existing brain for once!?” She yelled in despair, tears welling over in her eyes from the heartbreaking frustration building in her heart.

“No, I don’t get it Lucy! For fucks sake, why do you have to be such a pedantic bitch?” He couldn’t stand her vague hints at what she wanted him to say. Why couldn’t she understand that he wanted real answers to his questions, not insults to his mental capacity. His big hand grabbed her collar, making it tighten up significantly. Lucy wasn’t scared, she told herself, because being scared of the person she hated the most at the moment was not only unbelievably embarrassing, but also just way below her standards. So she fiercely bit down on her lip, partly to make the tears stop flooding, partly to throw the fire dragon slayer off guard.

Natsu’s usually kind onyx eyes looked like angry storms, showing her the most spiteful stare she had gotten in a very long time.

“Maybe I’m a pedantic bitch because I’ve always had to balance out your disgusting childish personality all the fucking time. Do you have any idea of what a menace you are, not only to me or this guild, but to society?” She hissed, no longer holding back the anger she felt. If he wanted to make this fight about things that didn’t relate to that article, then she wouldn’t hold back. Natsu, out of everyone, was the last person she wanted to hear those comments from.

“I don’t give a fuck if you think I’m a menace to society or whatever because at least I manage to protect society from whatever dangers they face! I’m the one who saved the entire continent from fucking Acnologia, and what did you do in the meantime, huh?” He sneered, lifting her higher in the collar. His fists were itching to… not hit her, but hit something. Gray would have been a good target, but the wall was closer – he made a mental note.

“Believe it or not mister main character syndrome, I was helping beating Acnologia. In real life, and not just in whatever weird imaginary place you ended up in.” She was really reaching again. “You, however, always think I’m just some weak loser who can’t hold her own ground! As if I don’t save your butt every single mission due to your stupid recklessness!” Lucy wasn’t backing down despite feeling Natsu’s scolding hot breath against her face. “And no, I don’t care about how you claim to always act on instinct to protect your family, because it’s proper bullshit! You don’t get to act all high and mighty and great for this guild because your indecisiveness and pure weakness made you leave this guild to rot for an entire year. If you’re going to become this guild’s self proclaimed protector, then you’ve got to be here to protect it.” Lucy pulled away from Natsu’s grip, forcing some space between them.

“No, Lucy, you have no right to say that to me. It’s thanks to me we’ve survived almost every single danger the guild has faced. It’s thanks to me the guild won the Grand Magic Games - or wait, no it wasn’t! Because back then I was saving your ass from getting killed! So sorry for saving you and successfully protecting you all this time. I knew you were whiny, but I didn’t know you resented me for fixing your life. I brought you to this guild, you should be thanking me, not yelling at me for having my own life aside from you.”

“Would you just shut up!” Lucy’s voice cracked, and she quickly resented herself for saying that. “If you regret bringing me here to this guild then maybe I should just leave? But just know that I never ever left this guild in the dust to run away with one of my best friends, leaving the other one behind to rot. I never ran away, despite not being able to speak to my father before he died, despite feeling weak. Because I know I am And I don’t need you to tell me. I’m weak, I’m weird and you think I’m a sensitive, whiny bitch, because no matter what great feats I make, I will always be that spineless girl according to the entire fucking continent.”

Natsu pursed his lips. He had never seen Lucy this upset, and frankly, he hadn’t felt this upset since Igneel left him in the woods as a kid. Hearing her say that she would leave really threw him back into reality though, her words feeling like a bucket of ice cold water getting thrown at him. What the fuck was he doing? Fighting her over something as small as not being able to honestly apologise about blaming her for not managing to hold the whole guild together by herself? An impossible feat, now that he thought about it, unless everyone in the guild had the same mindset.

“No. No, no, no, Lucy, let’s not do this,” he mouthed, relaxing his fists and softening his face. “You’re not weak, or weird, or a sensitive spineless girl.”

As their yelling match quieted down they both became aware of their surroundings again. No one had said a single word while they had been throwing insults at each other, and Lucy became uncomfortably aware of how she basically outed all of her insecurities in the heat of it all. No longer feeling the fighting spirit to keep the tears abay, she let them blur her vision. Fighting with her best friend was draining, and she never ever wanted to do it again.

“You’re the person I hate the least in, like, the whole world, please don’t say you’ll leave.” He almost whispered this sentence, not wanting everyone to listen in to their private conversation, but getting the opposite effect as he heard Gajeel whisper to Levy what he had said. If anything, talking quieter made the guild listen even more attentively.

Lucy once again felt her throat thicken up, but this time from regret for fighting and not in anger, as earlier.

“Of course I won’t leave. I would never do that. It’s just…” She sniffled, “I know you probably didn’t mean to hurt my feelings during that interview, you didn’t know that I already blame myself for letting the guild disband, and for not trying harder to keep in contact with everyone. How could you know, I never told you. It just got extra hurtful to hear that you felt the same way. It’s like having one of your biggest fears come true and I just got so… sad… that I got angry instead.”

Natsu could see that she was gathering courage to apologise, which truthfully broke his heart even more than it already had today.

“But I don’t think you’re to blame, I honestly don’t even know what got into me, Lucy. If anything I know that you kept tabs on everyone behind the scenes because rather than ripping up healing scars, you wanted to make sure everyone was safe, wherever they were. I’ve never told you how relieved I was when I saw that we didn’t have to start from scratch to find everyone, all thanks to the fact that you dedicated yourself to getting a job that would give you the information necessary. You’re amazing for everything you’ve done, and if anything, I’m the one who needs to realise that I’m the weak one. I shouldn’t have left everyone like that. It wasn’t fair, and it isn’t an excuse but I was sad and, well… scared.”

This time it was Lucy’s turn to interrupt Natsu.

“You’re not weak for doing what you thought would keep your loved ones safe, Natsu. I know you didn’t abandon me, you really were trying to protect us all, in your way. Though, it would be nice if you knew that we’re here for you too. We want to protect you and the guild as well. I want to protect you.”

“I’m still sorry for leaving. And I’m sorry for not thinking before I talk, I never wanted to make you feel that way. I was being really stupid. Can you forgive me?”

The air was thick between them, mixed with remnants of hurtful words and regret. A few whispers from the rest of the guild made it even more obvious that the current situation was wrong - Natsu and Lucy couldn’t fight. They were best friends, an inseparable duo. It was all so wrong. Lucy’s sobs broke the silence.

“Of course I can forgive you.” A huff or relief mixed with a sob made its way out, almost sounding like laughter. Natsu felt the corners of his mouth pull up slightly, the weight on his shoulders lifting simultaneously. Carefully he took a step closer to her, pulling her into an embrace. Lucy’s relieved sobs made her shake against his chest as she allowed herself to fall into the hug. “If anything,” she breathed, “can you forgive me? You’re not a menace to society, nor exhausting to be with. I’m sorry for yelling at you.” As her voice broke into falsetto, mixing with previous sobs, Natsu managed to laugh lightly.

“Well you were right about the destructive part,” he laughed, tightening his grip around her shivering shoulders. “There’s really no need for you to apologise, but I’ll forgive you if it helps you to forgive yourself.”

Happy gave out a loud cry from beside them.

“I’m sorry Lucy..!” He wailed, throwing himself into their arms. “I didn’t know you’d be so sad about us leaving..!” Seeing Happy cry made Lucy cry even more.

“Of course I’d be sad if my best friends left me,” she managed to say, “I felt so lonely… You guys are everything to me, it was so weird to live without you.”

Happy’s cry was almost deafening at this point, as the only thing muffling the sound was Lucy’s chest and his occasional mumbling about loving her and apologising. The guild kept quiet, no one knowing how to react to the situation. The topic of the disbandment of the guild was rarely spoken of, often due, but not limited to, people silently judging themselves and others for allowing it to even happen in the first place. Cana could lie awake some nights in shame of how she had been drinking away reality when it happened, Elfman took more single missions than ever before, spending them wondering if he hadn’t made the guild blow up, would Makarov never have disbanded Fairy Tail? Some people were firm believers that they’d step up to keep the guild together, if someone had initiated it at first that was. Everyone had their own discomfort around the subject, yet very few had actually spoken about it out loud. Watching the guild’s sun and star fight over the delicate matter had brought feelings they hadn’t felt in a long time, so when Erza spoke up everyone held their breaths.

“I think we all have our uncomfortable memories connected to that year. I can admit, with full transparency, that I also have had some sleepless nights over this topic. But I can assure you both that no one blames either of you, in any way. It’s true that Natsu takes the job of protecting the guild in the highest regard of seriousness, and it’s also true that Lucy does too. To be frank, often I wonder if I could have prevented everything had I been more perceptive. But I’ve never blamed either of you.” Erza’s tone was soft, despite her words being stale and clearly rehearsed in her head. Her own confession made a myriad of other people speak up as well.

“Yeah, we never blamed you two. You’re the ones that brought us together again!” The guild stirred, people talking over each other to get their two cents on the topic. After all, the disbandment was a dam waiting to burst – Natsu and Lucy had just accidentally pulled the plug.

“Well…” the coarse voice that spoke up made the guild quiet down again. Makarov had made an appearance, and Natsu and Lucy, who were already ashamed for having their affairs sorted out in front of their guild mates, got even more embarrassed knowing that he had heard it all. “I must say that I’m surprised, and actually offended, that no one has put the blame on me. You can deny it all you want, but at the end of the day it was me, not any of you, that uttered the words that caused the disbandment. It was never my intention for you to get mad at yourselves or each other.”

Glances were passed around in the guild. Between people who had fought over this topic, and between people who had plotted against other groups.

“I won’t say sorry though.” Makarov gave the crowd a stern look. “I did what I thought was the best thing to do at the time. And you can try to prove me wrong, but everyone here grew during that year. You took your own paths, and experienced new ways of living. I’m sorry for the aftermath of disbanding the guild, but I’m not sorry for doing it.”

When Makarov finished his sentences, the guild let out a collective sigh. Some got annoyed with Makarov’s demeanour – hadn’t he listened to Natsu and Lucy, and heard how harmful the event had been for their relationship? Others sighed in relief, nodding along with his words. He had a point after all, and like it or not, the guild had absolutely gotten stronger after their time apart. Someone mentioned the saying that “distance makes the heart fonder” and another guy pushed him for being corny.

Soon enough the argument between Natsu and Lucy had sizzled out. For everyone besides them, that is. Except, they both felt like there were things to deal with still. There were no more hard feelings between them, their troubles had been aired out and felt small now that they weren’t topics to carefully tread around anymore. Still, they hadn't come to a conclusion. They wanted to talk.

“Do… Do you want to go to my place?” Lucy asked, now that no one paid them attention.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

They knew they didn’t have any eyes on them, but they decided to sneak out the back way anyway. It didn’t feel right to walk out through the big doors that made a big thunk when it closed behind them. Not today. They were still worn thin from the screaming battle – a loud sound might break them from shockwaves only.

The walk home was naturally quiet. They had taken this route home many times before, but back then the silence didn’t feel so empty. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t emotionally thick. There weren’t any unsaid words, unsaid sentences hanging in the air, clinging to their brains like velcro. Today, everything had been said. There were no more elephants to avoid talking about. Except maybe one.

Lucy was the first to enter the apartment. She took her time untying her shoes and hanging up her jacket. They had gone here to talk, though how, she had no idea. How was she supposed to say anything when the same mouth had heckled him only an hour earlier? Natsu, who also took his time with his sandals, almost moving unnaturally slowly to get those extra seconds to prepare himself, wondered the same thing. He started formulating sentences in his mind, trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t going to ruin them, but before he could put any of them to the test, Lucy spoke.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” Both Lucy herself and Natsu gave her a mental pat on the shoulder. Harmless words. A good sentence even – Natsu would give it first place in the world if he could.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Another successful sentence. Maybe they actually would be able to solve all this.

After Lucy put on the kettle, they both sat down on the couch beside each other. She was first to speak again.

“Natsu, I really am sorry for everything I said.” Natsu tried to stop her there to insert his own apology, but Lucy spoke up louder. “I really said so many things that I didn’t mean, and I’m ashamed I even started the whole argument. It was really immature of me, and I…”

Lucy looked up at Natsu, water was once again pressing in her tear ducts, though this time in regret.

“I just really really love this guild. I don’t know where I would be without it. You seriously saved me that day in Hargeon, in more ways than one. I’m so thankful, I’m sorry for not telling you that more often. Thank you.”

Natsu stared intensely into Lucy’s eyes, wishing his gaze could speak for him, but ultimately deciding to answer.

“I don’t think you understand Lucy, I should thank you. And most of all, It’s me who should apologise. Hadn’t you been in my life I’d still be walking around with a stick up my bum, you’ve changed my perspective on life. We’ve gone through Hell and back together, but I never even once considered you part of that Hell. I’m sorry for being a jerk today.” Natsu didn’t notice until now that he had softly grabbed Lucy’s hand while speaking. He was beyond relieved that she didn’t pull back.

Lucy let out a light sob. She was crying in relief – the reassurance that he didn’t despise her.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you Natsu. You-” she dried some of her tears with the palm of her hand, “you’re my entire world.”

“And you’re mine.” Natsu was quick to answer her, and faster to bring their faces closer. He felt this urge to hug her, keep her tight and not let go for anything in the world, but at the same time he wanted to see her. See her eyes that were still crying, feel her face against his own. So he brought their foreheads together and just breathed with her. Lucy’s breaths were still shallow and shaky, but it felt right to have her skin touching his, breathing in her air.

Then Lucy closed the distance completely. She carefully locked her lips together with his, not being forceful in any way. But they knew that this was the sensation they had been searching for. A complete closeness, mouth to mouth, an action so intimate it felt like they were sharing souls. And right now, they might as well have done exactly that. All their troubles had been shared, all their uglies and all their pretties, and this final action signed a contract. That they’ll keep mentioning anything on their minds, that they’ll say everything they like and dislike about each other. Most importantly what they love about each other. In this short moment of telepathy, they already knew the subject of their love – them.

***

Notes: Oops. At least I ended it with a kiss? I can't lie, this was hard to write and even harder to post (I can't figure out the Rich Text function on Ao3 at all, but I needed italics for the fic on ao3! Sorry tumblr-readers, you’re missing out🫣)

I honestly didn't expect it to get so long, most of the fics I write that are over 4k words are mostly just wordy for no reason, lol. But this fic had some drama! My teachers would be proud, dramatic curves are important but I Suck At Them.

Thank you for reading all this! And pls don't hate me for writing other emotions than love and grief, I'll most definitely get back with a trillion of those kinds of fics soon (I prefer writing those fics hehe). XX

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Bonfire~

i was travelling for 12 hours yesterday! i really wanted bonfire to be finished but i think there will be one final part! this is just finishing up what lucifer did! you might be pissed off with him here and if you are pissed off with him but also pity him a littl ~ i have succeded as a writer!

also @inubaki will you tell me now ? :(

Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04

@adamsappleweek

Okay, maybe he was being unfair. Maybe he was being more than unfair—he was being mean, even cruel. But Lucifer couldn’t help it. The anger inside him was burning so fiercely it felt like it might tear him apart from the inside out. And underneath that rage was something much darker, more suffocating: jealousy. Bitter, gnawing jealousy that consumed him every time he saw the way Adam’s eyes lit up when he talked about Lute.

Why? Lucifer thought, his heart twisting painfully. Why is Adam so obsessed with her?

He doesn’t need her. He’s never needed anyone else but me. It had always been just the two of them, hadn’t it? They had made it through everything together—through childhood, through the awkward teenage years, through heartbreak and loneliness. Lucifer had been there through it all, always by Adam’s side, always the one Adam turned to. They didn’t need anyone else.

But now... now there was Lute. This Alpha with her punk attitude, her cool smirk, and her stupid band. And Adam couldn’t stop talking about her. It made Lucifer’s blood boil. Every time Adam brought her up, it was like a knife twisting deeper into his chest.

He didn’t even care about Lute. He didn’t care if she liked him, or if she texted him all the time, or even if she started following him around like a lost puppy. The only thing that mattered was Adam. Adam was his. He had always been his, hadn’t he? And now, it felt like Adam was slipping through his fingers, being pulled away by someone who didn’t even know him, not really. Not the way Lucifer did.

Lucifer sat in his now-empty living room, staring at the locked door to Adam’s bedroom. The echo of their argument still hung in the air, the words they had thrown at each other sharp and jagged, leaving invisible wounds that bled between them. Adam had never locked him out before. Never. Even in their worst fights, even when they were kids and one of them got angry, they always made up. They always found their way back to each other.

But this time felt different. It felt... final.

Lucifer’s phone buzzed again. Another message from Lute. She was waiting for him, excited about the bonfire. And for a moment, Lucifer thought about blowing her off, about telling her he wasn’t coming, about staying right here and waiting for Adam to unlock that door, to let him back in. But what good would that do? Adam had asked for space. Adam had locked him out.

Lucifer's chest tightened, his throat constricting painfully as he realized that, for the first time in his life, Adam had shut him out completely. And he didn’t know how to handle that. He didn’t know what to do with the emptiness it left behind.

Maybe that was why he had lashed out so harshly. Why he had thrown those cruel words at Adam, hoping that they’d bring him back, hoping that they’d make Adam see how much he needed him, how much he depended on their connection. But instead, it had only pushed Adam further away.

Lucifer sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistake settle over him like a heavy blanket. He hadn’t meant to hurt Adam. Not really. He just didn’t know how to handle this—this feeling of losing him. Of being replaced. He didn’t know how to make Adam see that no one could ever understand him the way Lucifer did, that no one would ever care for him the way Lucifer had always cared.

His phone buzzed again, and this time, Lucifer stared at it, at Lute’s message, for a long moment. Maybe if he kept playing this game, if he kept Lute close, it would distract him from the ache in his chest. Maybe if he let her think she was winning him over, it would make everything feel less... empty.

He glanced at the locked door once more, a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated that he had hurt Adam. Hated that Adam had hurt him in return. But right now, he didn’t know how to fix it. And maybe, for just tonight, he didn’t want to. Maybe he wanted to forget about the pain and jealousy swirling inside him, if only for a few hours.

Lucifer typed out a quick message to Lute, confirming he’d meet her at the bonfire. She responded instantly, her excitement practically leaping off the screen. He knew what he was doing—knew this would only make things worse between him and Adam. But he couldn’t stop himself. Maybe, just for tonight, he needed the distraction. He needed to feel like he was still in control of something, anything.

But as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, Lucifer couldn’t shake the feeling that, with every step he took toward Lute, he was stepping further away from Adam. And that thought... that thought broke his heart more than he wanted to admit.

Lucifer glanced back at Adam’s locked door one final time before leaving the dorm, his heart aching with every step. The silence from behind that door felt heavier than the night sky above, a quiet reminder of the growing distance between them. The hallway seemed longer, emptier, without Adam by his side. He had always been there, hadn’t he? Always close, always within reach. But now… now it felt like Adam was slipping away, like sand falling through his fingers, and Lucifer didn’t know how to stop it.

He walked slowly down the street toward the open field where the bonfire ritual was held every year, the cool autumn air brushing against his skin. He wasn’t in any rush. He had no real desire to meet Lute. He certainly didn’t plan on anything serious with her, not in the way people might assume. The only person he would ever willingly give himself to, body and soul, was Adam. And the thought of anyone else touching him felt wrong—empty, even.

Lucifer sighed deeply, a pout forming on his lips as he let himself drift into the fantasy that always lingered in the back of his mind: Adam at his side.

They would walk together, hands intertwined, fingers softly brushing as they swung between them. He imagined the warmth of Adam’s skin, the familiar scent that always calmed him, that grounded him. The thought made him hum softly, a dreamy moan escaping his lips as his mind painted a picture of the two of them, not just friends, but partners—walking through the cool night air toward the bonfire.

They would dance beneath the stars, their bodies swaying in perfect sync. They’d exchange apple cider and laughter, their hands finding one another again and again, seeking comfort and familiarity in every touch. And later, much later, they’d sit by the glowing embers of the fire, sharing an apple under the moonlight, sealing their fates together. The crown of red carnations and apples, a symbol of love and devotion, would rest on his golden hair, only to be shared with Adam—the only one who had ever mattered.

But as the warmth of the fantasy wrapped around him, Lucifer forced himself to stop. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from whimpering. There was no use in dreaming of a future that Adam didn’t even want. And as much as he longed for that closeness, for Adam to be his in every way, Lucifer couldn’t change the reality that stretched between them like a yawning chasm.

“Hello, Lucifer,” came a voice from the side, pulling him back to the present. Old Betty stood by the water’s edge, her sharp eyes narrowing as she looked him over.

Lucifer nodded at her out of respect, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“Evening, Betty," he greeted, his voice tight, his smile strained.

Betty frowned, glancing behind him as if expecting someone else. “No Adam again, I see?”

The mention of Adam brought an immediate sting to Lucifer’s chest, his frown deepening.

“Adam’s sick,” he lied, his voice colder than he intended. “He was going to come with me, but he couldn’t make it.”

Betty clicked her tongue in disapproval, shaking her head as she adjusted the crown she held for him.

“Kids these days,” she muttered. “A little cold and it’s the end of the world.”

Lucifer felt his temper flare, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

She doesn’t understand, he thought bitterly, but he bit back the retort, forcing his face into a neutral expression as Betty placed the red carnations and apple crown on his head. It felt heavier than it should have, a weight that pressed down on him with the reminder of everything he didn’t have.

"Now remember," Betty began, her voice instructive as she wove the crown through his golden hair, "This crown stays on until you share the apple with your chosen partner. Only then do you take it off."

Lucifer barely heard her, the words meaningless in the sea of emotions swirling inside him. He gave a curt nod, rolling his eyes when her back was turned. As he walked away, he could hear the murmurs of disapproval behind him, the whispers about him being the strangest omega the town had ever seen. He should have let their words roll off his back, but tonight, they stung.

Maybe it’s true, he thought bitterly. Maybe I am strange. Maybe that’s why Adam doesn’t want me anymore.

Lucifer’s steps slowed as he reached the open field, his gaze drawn to the happy omegas fluttering about, their laughter and excitement filling the air as they rushed to find someone to connect with. The sight only deepened his sense of isolation, of not belonging. How he hated it—hated the rituals, hated the expectations, hated how everyone seemed so happy while he stood there, miserable and alone.

“Lucifer!” A voice cut through the crowd, bright and excited. He groaned inwardly.

Lute’s voice rang out again, louder this time. “Lucifer! Over here!”

He forced a smile, slipping the mask back on, his charm dialed up as he turned toward her. The way Lute’s cheeks flushed when she saw him told him it was working. He took a moment to observe her crown—peaches and daisies, an odd choice but fitting for her.

Not like it mattered, he reminded himself. Lute wasn’t the one he wanted.

“Hello, Lute,” he chimed smoothly, his voice warm and inviting despite the emptiness he felt inside.

Lute beamed as she approached him, stopping just in front of him with an excited gleam in her eyes.

“I’m so happy you invited me,” she said, almost shyly. “I thought you weren’t going to.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Lucifer lied effortlessly, though his heart wasn’t in it.

All he could think about was Adam. What was he doing now? Was he thinking about Lucifer at all? Did he miss him the way Lucifer missed him, or was he glad for the distance? The thought of Adam sitting alone in his room, the door still locked between them, twisted the knife in his chest even deeper.

This was supposed to be our night, Lucifer thought bitterly. Not hers.

Lucifer turned on the charm, effortlessly slipping into the role he had mastered so well. He smiled sweetly, batting his long lashes in just the right way, and laughed softly whenever Lute said something even mildly amusing. He stood close, letting his hand brush hers, and watched with quiet satisfaction as her cheeks flushed a deeper red each time. It was all too easy, even if his heart wasn’t in it—especially because his heart wasn’t in it.

Lute was kind. She was attentive and sweet, always trying to understand him. That much Lucifer couldn’t deny. But when she asked, “Have I proven myself to you yet?”

A flicker of confusion flashed across his mind.

Prove herself?

He struggled to remember, before it clicked—oh, right. He had made her believe she had to prove she wasn’t like other alphas.

His lips curved into a grin, and he let his eyes widen in that big, innocent way he knew always worked.

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “You have. You’re not like other alphas at all.”

Lute beamed at the compliment, her whole face lighting up as if he had just given her the world.

“I’m glad,” she said, stepping a little closer. “Would it be alright if I asked what bad experience you had with an alpha? I want to know what hurt you.”

Lucifer hesitated for a split second, but the lie rolled off his tongue with practiced ease.

“There was an alpha I really liked,” he said, his voice dropping, soft and wounded. “But they hid who they really were. They were cruel to me… hurt me.”

He wrapped his arms around himself, as if shielding his body from invisible bruises. His eyes fell to the ground, and he rubbed his arms for dramatic effect.

Lute’s expression softened instantly, her eyes wide with concern and sadness.

“I’m so sorry, Lucifer,” she whispered. “I would never do that to you. Can I… can I hug you?”

Lucifer forced a shy nod, and Lute gently pulled him into her arms. Her hands curled awkwardly around him, her grip uncertain. It wasn’t right. The hug felt uncomfortable, cold, and stiff. There was none of the warmth he craved, none of the sense of belonging he always felt in Adam’s arms. But Lucifer played along, letting out a fake sigh of relief, pretending to melt into the embrace.

It’s not like Adam’s hugs, he thought, bitterness rising in his throat. Adam’s hugs were soft, secure, home.

Lute’s embrace felt like he was trying to fit into something that wasn’t made for him. It left him hollow and empty.

“Thank you,” Lucifer muttered hastily, pulling back quicker than he intended. Lute smiled brightly, oblivious to his discomfort, and took his hand. Her fingers were warm, but they didn’t ignite the same fire that Adam’s touch always did.

She stepped closer, her breath soft against his cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Lucifer’s heart stilled in his chest, his lips parting in shock.

Kiss?

His mind raced. He didn’t want this. He wanted his first kiss to be with Adam—only with Adam. That moment, that intimacy, was something he had always saved for him. No one else.

“I… uh…” he stuttered, his voice trembling, his body frozen with panic. But before he could say no, before he could push her away, Lute leaned in, her eyes fluttering shut.

Lucifer barely had time to react before her lips pressed against his. His eyes widened in horror as the kiss landed on his mouth, her lips warm but all wrong.

This isn’t right. This isn’t Adam.

His body went rigid, every part of him screaming in protest. And then, over her shoulder, he saw him.

“Adam,” he gasped, the name slipping from his lips as soon as Lute pulled back.

Adam stood at the edge of the field, his face unreadable, but the hurt in his eyes unmistakable.

“Adam, wait!” Lucifer called out, panic flooding his chest as Adam turned to walk away.

Without thinking, Lucifer pushed past Lute, desperate to reach him.

“Adam!” he yelled again, his voice cracking with desperation. But before he could get far, Lute grabbed his arm.

“Lucifer, what’s going on?” she asked, concern evident in her tone.

“Adam saw us,” Lucifer panted, his heart pounding in his chest. “He saw us kiss—”

Lute’s eyes widened with understanding.

“Oh,” she whispered, guilt flashing across her face. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Yanking his arm free from her grip, Lucifer spun around to face her, his anger bubbling to the surface.

“You’ve been ignoring him for weeks!” he snapped. “And now you didn’t mean to hurt him?”

Lute looked stricken, taken aback by the accusation. “It wasn’t like that,” she stammered. “I just… I liked you so much, Lucifer. I didn’t think Adam would mind. He’s still my friend.”

Lucifer’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing.

“This won’t work,” he said, his voice sharp. “Adam’s my best friend. He means everything to me. I can’t be with the alpha he likes.”

The words twisted painfully inside him, the bitter taste of them making him want to scream.

The alpha Adam likes. It felt like a knife to the chest. He didn’t want Adam to like anyone but him.

Lute’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?” she gasped. “So you’re going to break this off because of Adam? If he’s really your friend, he’d understand.”

Lucifer puffed his cheeks, stubbornness and frustration clashing inside him.

“He’s hurt!” he yelled. “I don’t want to hurt him even more! Can you imagine what it’s like to watch the person you care about with someone else? I won’t do that to him!”

Lute blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if she hadn’t considered that possibility. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, and she looked away, swallowing hard.

“You’re right…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “We can’t be together. It would hurt Adam too much.”

Lucifer felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in her voice, but it was quickly swallowed by the overwhelming need to find Adam.

“I didn’t mean to…” Lute’s voice trembled; her eyes filled with regret. “I didn’t mean to lead him on.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Of course not,” he said sharply. “Alphas wouldn’t dare do such a thing, would they?”

Lute recoiled at his sarcasm, and for a brief moment, silence hung between them like a heavy weight. Without another word, Lucifer turned on his heel, heart pounding, and ran after Adam. He had to make this right. He’ll forgive me again. Adam has too, just like before.

Lucifer clung to the belief like a lifeline—Adam will forgive him. Just like before, when Lilith came between them. Adam had forgiven him then, hadn't he? Because Adam always forgave him. Because their connection was different, deeper than anything anyone else could understand. They were bound to each other, always meant to find their way back no matter what. Adam has to forgive me... he always does.

But even as Lucifer tried to convince himself of this, there was a knot in his chest tightening with every step he took. A small, creeping doubt slithered into his heart, whispering that maybe this time was different.

His boots kicked up dust as he stumbled across the open field, the flickering light of the bonfire casting long shadows across the couples gathering close around it. He moved quickly, his eyes darting from face to face, frantically searching for him. He barely registered the alphas and betas who called out to him, their voices drowned by the panic thudding in his ears. He brushed past them, ignoring their curious glances and warm greetings, his mind only on Adam.

Each second that passed without finding him felt like a lifetime. His throat burned with the unspoken words, with the desperate apology he needed to give. But more than anything, he just wanted to see Adam’s face. To see him smile, even just a little. To hear him say that everything was going to be okay, like he always did.

But what if this time… what if Adam didn’t say that? What if Lucifer had pushed too far this time?

He swallowed hard, his chest heaving with the weight of that thought. No, he couldn't think that way. Adam had to forgive him. He always forgave him, didn’t he? He couldn’t stand the idea of a world where Adam didn't come back to him. Where Adam shut him out for good.

The bonfire roared higher as the evening pressed on, and the warmth from the flames licked at Lucifer’s skin, but he felt cold inside. His stomach twisted painfully as he caught sight of couples exchanging crowns, sharing their apples, sealing their fates together in front of the blazing fire. It should’ve been him and Adam, sitting together by the flames, hands entwined, their future entwined with it. It should’ve been them.

A pang of jealousy sliced through him, sharp and bitter, as he imagined it all. Them laughing, nuzzling close, sharing soft kisses as their friends cheered them on. His mind filled with images of the life they should have—would have—if he could just make Adam see it. He had to find him.

“Adam!” he called out, his voice raw, strained with desperation. He pushed through the crowd, growing more frantic with each second that passed. Where could he be?

Lucifer's breath hitched in his throat when he spotted a flash of dark hair at the edge of the crowd, near the outskirts of the field. Adam. His heart leapt into his throat. He was standing alone, his back turned to the fire, looking out over the horizon like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Without hesitation, Lucifer sprinted toward him, ignoring the way his heart pounded painfully against his ribs. As he approached, the weight of what had just happened hit him all over again. Adam had seen him—kissing someone else. Kissing Lute. The image of Adam walking away, shoulders tense, face unreadable, flashed in his mind like a haunting echo.

He stopped just a few feet behind Adam, his breath catching in his throat, his hands trembling at his sides.

“Adam,” he whispered, his voice fragile, as if it might shatter in the air between them.

Adam didn’t turn around. He didn’t move at all.

Lucifer’s chest tightened painfully.

“Please,” he begged, stepping closer. “Please, just… just look at me.”

There was a long, suffocating silence before Adam finally turned, his eyes distant, and Lucifer’s heart sank. The warmth, the softness he was used to seeing in Adam’s gaze—it wasn’t there. Instead, there was something far worse: disappointment.

“Lucifer,” Adam began, his voice flat, tired. “What are you doing here? You hardly know Lute.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, his mind racing, trying to find the right words, the right way to fix this.

“I-I know. I didn’t mean for it to happen. That kiss… it didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” His voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “I swear, Adam, I didn’t want it.”

Adam’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as his normally warm eyes sharpened into cold slits. “Didn’t want it?” he repeated, voice edged with bitterness. “Then why didn’t you push her away, Lucifer? Why didn’t you stop her?”

Lucifer’s breath hitched, shame pouring over him like ice water. He could barely manage to form the words, the weight of his own guilt suffocating him. “I—” His voice trembled, barely above a whisper. “I froze… I just couldn’t…”

“You froze?” Adam’s voice rose, cutting through the night like a blade, every syllable laced with disbelief and frustration.

“Lucifer, I was there. I saw it. You weren’t frozen—you looked like you wanted it. You looked like…” Adam's voice cracked slightly, the betrayal bleeding through, “like you were enjoying it.”

Lucifer’s heart broke at the sight of Adam’s pained expression, the flicker of hurt in his emerald eyes. Each word Adam spoke felt like a dagger twisting deeper into his chest.

“No, Adam, it wasn’t like that. You don’t understand,” Lucifer pleaded, stepping forward desperately, reaching out for him like he was slipping away. “It was a mistake, a terrible mistake. I didn’t want it.”

But Adam pulled back, jerking his hand away before Lucifer could touch him. His eyes hardened, his posture tense.

“Lucifer, stop,” Adam said, his voice dropping to a quiet, icy calm. The warmth that usually softened his words was gone, replaced by something distant, unreachable. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep playing with people’s feelings like they don’t matter. You hurt Lilith, Lucifer. Did you even know she was there? She saw the whole thing.”

Lilith. Always Lilith.

But Lucifer didn’t care about her, never had, not in the way everyone believed. His mind, his heart, had always belonged to Adam. But how could he say that? How could he make Adam understand? His breath quickened, panic clawing at his throat.

“I don’t care about Lilith!” Lucifer burst out, his voice ragged with desperation. “She doesn’t matter. She never mattered!”

Adam’s eyes widened in surprise at the outburst, but then they narrowed again, his voice tightening in response. “Lucifer, this isn’t about you not caring about Lilith. This is about you using people. You can’t just… keep bouncing from one person to the next, trying to fill some void. First Lilith, now Lute—don’t you see? You’re just running from your feelings, and it’s not fair. Not to them.”

Lucifer’s fists clenched at his sides, his entire body trembling. He could feel himself spiralling, every word Adam said tearing him apart.

“You don’t understand,” he hissed, his voice shaking. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

Adam’s brow furrowed, his tone softening just enough to show the concern lurking beneath the anger. “Then tell me, Luci. Help me understand.”

The sound of his nickname on Adam’s lips should have soothed him, but it didn’t. It only made the ache in Lucifer’s chest deepen, made him feel like he was drowning.

“I can’t!” he practically screamed, his voice raw with emotion, with frustration, with helplessness. “Just stop asking!”

Adam’s shoulders sagged, the fight slowly draining from him. His eyes dimmed, the light that had always been there—the connection that had always tethered them—was flickering, fading.

“Okay,” Adam whispered, the word barely audible. “Okay, Lucifer. I’ll stop asking. But I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself.”

“I’m not,” Lucifer shot back, though the conviction in his voice faltered. His heart was pounding, erratic and painful. “I’m fine. I don’t need you to worry about me.”

But Adam shook his head, the sadness in his eyes now all too visible. “I don’t know how not to worry about you, Lucifer. I’ve always looked out for you. That’s what I’ve always done. But maybe… maybe that’s the problem.”

Lucifer’s stomach dropped.

“What do you mean?” he demanded, a sudden chill settling in his bones.

He reached out again, desperate to close the growing distance between them, but Adam stepped back. Lucifer’s heart sank deeper.

“I think…” Adam’s voice caught in his throat, and he had to pause, swallowing down whatever emotion was threatening to break free. “I think our friendship might need to… change.”

Change. That word felt like poison, like a death sentence. Lucifer’s eyes widened, his voice dark and trembling with denial. “Change how? I don’t want anything to change. You’re my best friend. My—” He stopped himself, the rest of the sentence too painful to say.

“I know,” Adam murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, his discomfort clear. “But we’re too close, Lucifer. We’re crossing boundaries we don’t even realize. And it’s messing with us. We’re always stepping on each other’s toes, and we’re hurting each other without meaning to.”

Lucifer shook his head violently, his chest tightening as he tried to reject the very idea. “No. No, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want us to change. Everything’s fine the way it is.”

Adam’s eyes softened, and Lucifer could see the struggle in him—the pain of saying what he believed needed to be said. “But it’s not fine, Lucifer. It hasn’t been fine for a while. You just don’t see it yet.” His voice was barely a whisper now, thick with emotion. “We need space. We shouldn’t share everything, not the way we do. Not clothes, not a bed, not… not our lives.”

“No,” Lucifer growled, his voice firm but laced with desperation. His chest felt hollow, like someone had reached in and torn something vital away from him. “I won’t do that. I won’t let you put distance between us.”

Adam’s gaze lingered on Lucifer’s face, the sadness in his eyes deepening with every word. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I swear I’m not. But I think space is the only way we stop hurting each other.”

Lucifer’s breath hitched, his vision blurring as tears threatened to spill. His voice broke as he whispered, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Adam took a slow, shaky breath, his own eyes wet with unshed tears. “You won’t lose me, Lucifer. I’ll always be here. But we need to be better. Healthier. For both of us.”

Lucifer felt like the world was slipping through his fingers, the only thing he’d ever truly loved moving farther and farther away. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Lucifer’s world seemed to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. The words Adam had just spoken hung in the air like a dagger, cutting deep, deeper than anything Lute or Lilith could have ever done.

Change?

Space?

The very idea of distancing himself from Adam, of pulling apart the threads that tied them so closely together, felt like a slow, suffocating death. His heart clenched painfully as he stared at Adam, his mind scrambling to understand. Adam was saying they—the one constant in Lucifer’s life—needed to change. That they were too close. Too involved. But that was how it was supposed to be! That’s how it had to be!

“No,” Lucifer snapped, his voice a trembling echo of the panic swelling in his chest. “I don’t want things to change. I don’t want space. I don’t need space. Why are you saying this?”

Adam’s expression was pained, but steady. His emerald eyes held a tenderness that only twisted the knife deeper. “Lucifer… I’m saying this because I care about you. You know I do. But we… we’re hurting each other, even if we don’t mean to.”

Lucifer’s heart thudded in his chest, his stomach twisting violently. “You think I’m hurting you? Is that it? You think I’m some kind of burden to you?”

“No, Luci—" Adam began, his voice breaking slightly on the old nickname, the one that usually made Lucifer's heart flutter. But now, it felt like a farewell, like a fragment of the past slipping through his fingers.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I love you. You’re my best friend. But sometimes…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Sometimes love gets tangled up in ways that can hurt. We’re getting tangled, and I don’t want that. Not for you. Not for me.”

Lucifer felt the ground beneath him crumble. Love? Adam loved him? But not in the way that matters.

Adam doesn’t love him the same way Lucifer loves him.

His fists clenched at his sides, trembling with a storm of emotions he didn’t know how to contain. He felt cold. So cold. Adam’s soft voice, his gentle explanation—it was like watching someone walk away while telling you they still care. Still care while they leave you behind.

“No,” Lucifer growled, a low, dangerous sound that vibrated in his chest.

“You’re wrong. I’m not tangled up in anything. You’re not a burden to me, and I don’t need space.” His eyes flared, desperate, wild. “Why would you even say that? I need you. I’ve always needed you. And you… you’ve always been there for me! Why would you want to ruin that?”

Adam closed his eyes for a moment, his hand lifting to rub the back of his neck—a nervous habit Lucifer knew too well.

“I don’t want to ruin anything,” he said softly. “But I think I’ve been too close for too long, and it’s clouded things, made it hard to see what’s good for both of us.”

“I don’t care!” Lucifer snapped. “I don’t care what you think is good! What’s good is us—being together, being close. You said it yourself. You always look out for me, Adam. That’s what we do!”

Adam’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of Lucifer’s words settling between them like an unspoken truth.

“I know. I know I said that,” he murmured, his voice so gentle, it felt like it might break. “But I can’t keep looking out for you the way I have been. It’s not fair to either of us. I don’t think I know where the line is anymore.”

Lucifer’s chest tightened, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his vision blurred with unshed tears.

A line?

There had never been a line between them. They were supposed to be one unit, always together, always entwined in each other’s lives. How could Adam suddenly want a line, a separation, when Lucifer couldn’t even imagine a life where they weren’t connected in every way?

“This isn’t fair,” Lucifer whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You can’t just decide this. You can’t just… pull away. I need you, Adam. I need you.”

Adam’s face softened with heartbreak, and he stepped closer, his hand reaching out as if to touch Lucifer’s arm, but he hesitated. “I’ll still be here, Lucifer. I’m not going anywhere. I just think… we need to step back, even if it hurts. Because if we don’t, we’re going to keep breaking each other apart.”

Lucifer stared at Adam’s outstretched hand, his heart breaking into pieces he didn’t know how to hold together. “You think this won’t break me? You think being apart from you won’t tear me apart?”

Adam’s hand fell back to his side, his expression filled with sorrow. “I don’t want to tear you apart, Lucifer. That’s why I’m saying this now… before we do more damage.”

Lucifer felt the world spin around him, the firelight from the bonfire in the distance flickering like the last dying embers of something he had once believed would never burn out. His chest ached; every breath felt like a struggle.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I don’t want to lose us.”

Adam’s eyes shimmered with tears he was fighting to hold back.

“You won’t lose me,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to be different, Lucifer. We must be healthier. I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt anymore.”

Lucifer shook his head violently, refusing to accept it. Refusing to believe that space—that pulling away—could ever be the solution. He felt like he was drowning, like the air was slipping through his fingers, and all he could see was Adam fading away from him.

“It’ll be good for us.”

Lucifer felt his heart shatter in his chest as Adam turned away slightly, the finality of his words settling in. The space between them had never felt so vast, so cold. He had never felt so alone.

~#~

The following weeks were unbearable for Lucifer. He hadn't truly believed Adam when he said things had to change. In the back of his mind, he had clung to the belief that Adam would keep his door open for him at night, still let him steal his clothes in the mornings, and still be there as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed.

The shift in the air was strong, suffocating. Adam's door stayed shut now, locked every night as if to draw a line between them that Lucifer could no longer cross. No longer were Adam’s shirts or jackets strewn about for Lucifer to snatch. He couldn’t even sneak a pair of Adam's boxer shorts when he wasn’t looking.

It was maddening, the way Adam had suddenly become so guarded, so possessive of his own space. It felt like Adam had built walls around the home they once shared, turning it into a fortress that Lucifer could no longer breach.

Lute’s texts came every day, reminders of the rift between him and Adam. But Lucifer didn’t even open them.

What was the point? Lucifer had already won. He had made sure nothing would happen between Lute and Adam. Now, there was nothing left for Lucifer to fight for.

And then it hit him. They had only one week left before they graduated from college. Lucifer felt his stomach drop. He realized with a painful jolt that he didn’t even know what Adam’s future plans were. He had no idea which university Adam was going to—or if he was even going at all. All those late-night talks about following each other, staying together in the same town, maybe even attending the same university… that future felt like a dream now, something distant and impossible.

Lucifer had chosen a university months ago, but without Adam’s voice in his life, he had picked blindly. The thought of them going to different schools had gnawed at him in a quiet, desperate way, but he had convinced himself that maybe—just maybe—they would end up in the same place by chance. Now, though, that hope felt as fragile as glass.

"Um, hi," Adam’s voice broke through Lucifer’s thoughts as he returned from class, a gentle smile on his lips.

Lucifer blinked, momentarily stunned.

“H-hi," he stammered, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. “How… how are you?”

"I’m good," Adam said softly, almost too softly, as if the weight of their shared history lingered between them. "Really good. You?"

Lucifer bit his lip, his own answer barely a whisper. “Good.”

But it was a lie. He wasn’t good. He was drowning, every day, in the absence of Adam’s presence. He ached with missing him.

Adam dropped his bag by the door, stretching his arms above his head in that casual, effortless way he always did. Lucifer’s gaze fell to the small strip of skin that peeked out from beneath Adam's hoodie, a flash of vulnerability, of warmth. It was the same familiar sight that used to make his heart race, but now it only served as a reminder of everything slipping away.

"Just finished my last exam," Adam said, his voice light.

"Oh," Lucifer murmured, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. He watched as Adam moved to sit down, not close, but still near enough to feel the gravity between them. "How did it go?"

Adam smiled, but there was a shadow in it. "It went well. I think I could’ve done better, but... it went well."

Lucifer nodded, his voice a soft echo. "Good. Mine went okay too. Could’ve done better."

There was a long, aching pause. Then, almost too casually, Adam asked, "Have you picked your university?"

Lucifer’s heart sank, the question stabbing at the raw wound of their distance.

“Y-yeah," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I’ve chosen Sunpeak University."

Adam’s expression didn’t change much, but Lucifer saw the flicker of something in his eyes. "That’s a good choice," Adam replied, his tone neutral, almost careful. "I’ve chosen Blackwood University."

The words hit Lucifer like a punch to the chest. His face crumpled, the hope he had held onto so desperately slipping through his fingers.

“I… I didn’t think you’d choose Blackwood," he said softly, trying to hide the crack in his voice.

Adam shrugged, but the distance in his gesture was unmistakable. "It has good credits for the course I want to study."

Lucifer couldn’t breathe for a moment, the room suddenly feeling too small, too cold.

“Oh," he exhaled shakily. "Sunpeak and Blackwood are… they’re more than an hour apart."

Adam nodded, the delicate look on his face twisting the knife even deeper.

“We can still see each other on weekends," he said gently, as if trying to soothe the hurt that was etched across Lucifer's face. "It’s not goodbye."

But Lucifer’s heart clenched as he stared at Adam, his eyes wide with the quiet devastation he could no longer hold back.

“Then why," he whispered, his voice breaking, "Why does it feel like goodbye?"

The silence that followed was more heartbreaking than any words could have been.

"Time apart will help us," Adam finally said, his voice soft but firm, as though he truly believed the words would heal the gaping wound between them. "We’ve been suffocating one another for so long. We’ve forgotten how to breathe on our own. This will do us good."

Lucifer couldn’t believe him. The words didn’t make sense, not in the way Adam meant them to. Suffocating? No. He had never felt more alive than when they were together, their lives entangled in a mess of late-night laughter, quiet moments of shared silence, and fleeting touches that meant more than either could ever say. Adam’s reasoning felt like a cruel twist of logic that Lucifer couldn’t grasp. His large blue eyes locked on Adam’s face, wide with hurt, searching for something—anything—that would make this make sense.

His jaw tightened as he pulled his knees up tighter against his chest, trying to make himself as small as he felt. His arms wrapped around his legs like a shield, as though he could hold himself together if he just squeezed hard enough.

"We’re still friends, Lucifer," Adam added, his tone warm, as if that was supposed to be enough.

Lucifer bit down hard on his bottom lip, the familiar ache in his chest growing heavier, threatening to swallow him whole. "Best friends?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, almost childlike in its fragility, like a plea that he knew he shouldn’t have to make.

"Always," Adam promised, and though the word sounded kind, it felt hollow, like a bridge that was already crumbling beneath them.

Lucifer let out a shaky breath, the sound filled with the weight of resigned acceptance. He nodded, slowly at first, as though each movement drained a bit more of the fight from him. His fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeves, gripping the soft cotton of his hoodie until his knuckles turned white. He looked at Adam, seeing him not as the person who had always been his safe harbour, but as someone standing on the other side of a growing distance—someone he could no longer reach the way he used to. Vulnerable and small, Lucifer swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling the words clawing their way out despite the pain they brought.

"Can… can I have a hug then?" His voice cracked as he spoke, the plea hanging in the air between them. "Please? One last hug?"

Adam’s expression softened, and for a moment, Lucifer thought he saw a flicker of the old Adam—the Adam who would have never let him feel this kind of loneliness. Adam shifted closer, the space between them shrinking, though it still felt like miles. His arms spread wide, offering that familiar comfort.

"You never have to ask for a hug, Lucifer," Adam whispered, pulling him in. "That won’t change."

Lucifer didn’t wait. He lunged into Adam’s embrace, his face pressing against Adam’s chest as his arms wrapped around him tightly, almost desperately. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the wave of tears that threatened to break free. He didn’t want to cry, not in front of Adam, not now. He wanted to hold on to this moment, to memorize the feel of Adam’s arms around him, the warmth of his body, the rhythm of his breath. He wanted to hold on to the illusion that everything was still okay, even if it was just for a few more seconds.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of his own heartbeat. But inside, Lucifer knew this was more than a hug—it was a goodbye dressed up as something less painful, a farewell disguised as comfort.

As Adam held him, Lucifer wished time would freeze, that the world would stop moving forward, so that he wouldn’t have to let go—because once he did, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

~#~

The following months were nothing short of agonizing. Every day stretched into an eternity of silence, a hollow space where Adam’s voice used to live. Lucifer could barely function. His mind felt like it was drowning, unable to focus on anything but the absence of Adam. It was as though his world had been stripped of colour, leaving everything muted, dull, and lifeless. The first few weeks were the worst. He would sit, for hours on end, staring blankly at the glowing screen of his phone, waiting—no, begging—for a message, a sign, anything from Adam.

Every vibration, every notification would send a jolt through him, hope blooming in his chest like a fragile flower, only to be cruelly crushed when it wasn’t from Adam.

Lucifer’s fingers would hover over the keyboard, sending message after message, searching for the right words that might break through the silence between them. He tried everything—funny anecdotes, inside jokes, even memes that used to make Adam laugh until his sides hurt. But the screen stayed stubbornly blank, no response, no acknowledgment. He tried to act casual at first, pretending as if it was just a rough patch, something that would pass.

“Hey, just thought of you today!"—send. Silence. "Remember that time we stayed up all night laughing? Miss you."—send.

More silence.

It was unbearable. It was as though Adam had disappeared, not just from his life, but from the world entirely.

Lucifer’s desperation began to grow, messages becoming longer, more frantic. “I’m sorry, Adam. Please, just talk to me. I miss you. I can’t do this without you.”

He pressed send with trembling fingers, feeling the weight of every unanswered word. His chest tightened painfully, each rejection feeling like a fresh wound. He had never felt this helpless before, this vulnerable.

The emptiness was maddening. He felt as though he was screaming into a void, his words falling into the abyss where Adam’s replies should have been. The silence on the other end was deafening, a cruel reminder of the distance that had grown between them. Lucifer wasn’t sure if it was worse that Adam wasn’t responding, or that Adam might have seen his messages and simply chosen not to answer. The thought tore at him, ripping through his heart like shards of glass.

It became a ritual of sorts—waking up, reaching for his phone, and sending another message, as if one more could somehow bridge the chasm between them. He kept trying, each time hoping that maybe, just maybe, this would be the one that Adam would respond to. But it was hopeless. Adam didn’t reply. Not even a laugh at a meme, not a single word.

Lucifer's room became a prison of memories, every corner haunted by the ghost of Adam's presence. The bed felt too big, too cold without him. He would lie awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, replaying every conversation, every touch, every smile. The phantom of Adam’s laughter echoed in his ears, a cruel reminder of what he’d lost. Even the scent of Adam’s old hoodie, the one Lucifer used to steal, had faded, leaving only the hollow fabric behind.

And yet, despite it all, Lucifer couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let go. His heart clung to the hope that maybe, one day, Adam would remember him, that he would pick up his phone and type a reply, even if it was just a few words. He imagined it sometimes, a single message lighting up his phone in the middle of the night: Hey. I miss you too. But each morning, he woke up to the same, empty screen.

Every day felt like another cut, a slow, agonizing death by a thousand tiny wounds. The world moved on around him, people went about their lives, but Lucifer was stuck in that endless limbo, waiting for something that might never come. Time apart was supposed to help them, but all it had done was carve a deeper, more painful void in his heart.

One night, he found himself scrolling through their old conversations, the ones from when things were good, when they were happy. His fingers traced over the words, each message a reminder of how much they had meant to each other. He read through their jokes, their shared dreams, the whispered promises of forever. He lingered on the messages where Adam called him his best friend, his partner in everything. Now, they felt like distant echoes of a life that wasn’t his anymore.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard again, heart pounding as he considered sending another message, something more desperate this time.

Please, Adam. I love you. Don’t leave me like this. But even as the words formed in his mind, he knew they would fall into the same abyss as the others. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up, how much more of this silence he could endure.

His hands trembled as he finally typed something simple, something that wouldn’t show how broken he felt inside: I miss you.

He pressed send, a final, small offering to the void.

And once again, the silence was the only thing that answered him.

Without Adam, Lucifer felt as though he were adrift in a vast ocean, utterly alone. The world outside continued to move, but he remained stuck in a moment that felt like a cruel twist of fate. His parents had cut him off the moment he presented as an Omega, locking him out of their lives without a word of explanation, as if he had never existed. The silence that had followed felt like a heavy shroud, wrapping around him tightly, suffocating in its grip. They had disowned him in the most brutal way, as though his very identity had been a betrayal.

Each day without Adam deepened Lucifer's sense of isolation. He was unaccustomed to the void left in Adam’s absence, the hollow ache in his chest that never quite faded. The nights were the hardest. Sleep evaded him, replaced by thoughts spiralling into the dark corners of his mind, where memories of Adam danced like shadows. He was haunted by the laughter they had shared, the whispers in the dark, the promises of a future that now felt impossibly distant.

Then, one day, months later, Lucifer found himself picking up his iPhone, almost as if it were a lifeline. His heart leaped into his throat, a mix of hope and trepidation flooding through him. As he swiped the screen, his eyes widened, and a rush of tears threatened to spill over. Happiness unfurled across his chest, blooming like a fragile flower breaking through the frost.

Hey. I’m coming home this summer. I’ll see you then.

Adam’s message glowed brightly against the backdrop of his otherwise darkened world.

Lucifer inhaled sharply, feeling the weight of the universe lift just slightly. He clenched his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white with the pressure, as if he were holding on to the only thing that mattered in that moment. Adam was coming home. The prospect of seeing him again ignited a spark of hope that he thought he had lost forever.

Can’t wait to see you, he texted back, his fingers trembling slightly as he hit send.

The excitement coursed through him, mingled with the fear of what their reunion would bring. Would it be awkward? Would the distance that had grown between them dissolve in the warmth of their shared history? Or would they stand as strangers, lost in the shadow of what once was?

With each passing moment, anticipation surged within him. The thought of seeing Adam’s face, hearing his voice, feeling the warmth of his presence was enough to fill the emptiness that had stretched endlessly since their separation. For the first time in months, Lucifer allowed himself to dream of possibilities.

He imagined Adam walking through the door, that same radiant smile lighting up his face, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he was genuinely happy. Lucifer could almost hear Adam's laughter ringing in his ears, the sound more beautiful than any music. Would he still feel like home? Would they fall back into their old rhythm, or would they have to learn to navigate this new, fragile bond?

Lucifer held his breath, heart racing as he stared at the screen, willing Adam to respond, to confirm that this was real. But even if he didn’t, the promise of summer felt like a distant shore he could finally swim toward, hope anchoring him against the tide of loneliness.

Just knowing that Adam was coming back made the darkness a little less suffocating. As he looked out the window, watching the clouds drift by, he dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

A moment later, another text popped up, almost as if Adam knew how desperately he had needed to hear it.

I miss you too.

When summer finally arrived, Lucifer was a trembling mess of nerves and anticipation. His heart had been in a constant state of flutter, barely able to settle since Adam's return was confirmed. The days felt like a blur, yet every moment dragged painfully, the ache of waiting almost unbearable. Adam’s mama had welcomed him warmly, her kind smile a balm for his anxious soul. She had always treated him like family, never once turning him away—even when the world did. Her home was a sanctuary for Lucifer, a place of comfort and warmth, where everything felt familiar. But even the safety of her cozy house couldn’t quiet the storm brewing inside him as he waited for Adam.

Every second stretched painfully long until, finally, the sound of a taxi pulling up outside snapped him into action. His heart leaped into his throat, pounding erratically as he leapt to his feet, his insides twisting with a mix of excitement and dread. He followed Adam’s mama to the door, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. This was it. Adam was home.

When Adam stepped out of the taxi, Lucifer's breath caught in his throat. He was just as handsome—no, more beautiful—than Lucifer remembered. The months apart had changed him subtly, but the effect was striking. Adam’s skin had turned golden from the sun, giving him a radiant glow. He was leaner, his muscles more defined, and his green eyes looked even more vibrant, like the deep shade of a lush forest after rain. His hair was a wild mess, tousled by the wind, and Lucifer's fingers twitched with the familiar longing to run his hands through it, to feel the softness he imagined had only grown more irresistible.

"Mama!" Adam called, waving with a grin that nearly knocked the air from Lucifer’s lungs. His gaze shifted to Lucifer. “Lucifer! Hey! It’s been a long time!”

Lucifer. Not Luci. The nickname he used to say so fondly, like a secret they shared, was absent. Lucifer tried to mask the disappointment that threatened to spill across his face, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.

He forced a smile, shy and small. “Welcome home, Addie. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Adam replied softly, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes—something warm, something familiar—when Lucifer called him by his nickname. But it was fleeting, slipping away just as quickly as it had appeared.

Lucifer’s heart hammered in his chest, each beat a reminder of the love that had only grown stronger in Adam’s absence. He wanted to run to him, to throw himself into Adam’s arms, to bury his face in his chest and hold on as if the world outside didn’t exist. His entire being ached for it, for that closeness that had once been so natural between them. But something stopped him—an invisible barrier that froze him in place, a coldness creeping into his bones.

"Addie~" a soft, sweet voice called from the taxi.

Lucifer’s world tilted. His stomach twisted violently, the air turning thick and unbreathable as he watched Adam’s grin widen. Adam twirled around with an eagerness Lucifer hadn’t seen in months, his hand reaching out to help a young woman out of the taxi.

She was stunning. Her thick, luxurious curls of deep red tumbled down to her waist, each strand catching the sunlight as if it were spun from copper. Her wide, expressive eyes were the colour of warm honey, framed by thick lashes, and her pale skin was dotted with freckles that seemed to dance across her cheeks like stars scattered on a canvas. She was perfect, the kind of perfect that made Lucifer’s chest tighten with dread.

"Mama," Adam beamed, leading the girl toward them with an unmistakable sense of pride. “This is Eve. My girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?

The word hit Lucifer like a punch to the gut, the world around him blurring as his vision went dark around the edges. His ears filled with the roar of thunder, drowning out every other sound.

Girlfriend? Adam has a girlfriend? How could this be? When had this happened? How could it have happened? He felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath him.

“Girlfriend?” Adam’s mama gasped, though her surprise quickly shifted to delight as she took in the sight of the girl before her. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled warmly. “My, my, you’re a beautiful young woman! Are you an Alpha?”

Eve smiled, and it was dazzling, her warmth almost suffocating. “Oh no, ma’am. I’m a Beta. I hope that doesn’t make you think any less of me.”

“Don’t be silly!” Mama exclaimed, taking Eve’s hands in hers with enthusiasm. “I could never think less of anyone! And please, call me Mama~”

Eve’s smile brightened, a picture of sweetness. “Oh, I’m so relieved, Mama.”

Adam stood beside her, grinning like he was on top of the world. He seemed so pleased that Eve was being welcomed, so happy that everything was falling into place. But when Eve glanced toward Lucifer, then back at Adam, something shifted in Adam’s expression. His grin faltered slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before he cleared his throat.

“And this is Lucifer,” Adam introduced, his tone light but distant. “He’s my best friend. We grew up together—practically brothers.”

Brothers? The word cut through Lucifer like a blade, sharp and cold. His expression darkened, though he struggled to keep it in check. His teeth ached with the effort of holding back the sneer threatening to curl his lips.

“Lucifer? What a strange name,” Eve said with a laugh, her head tilting curiously. “You’re named after the devil.”

She laughed again, leaning into Adam’s side. “Oh Addie, look at us! We have Adam and Eve…and the devil, Lucifer.”

The sickness in Lucifer’s stomach deepened, burning like acid as Adam laughed, holding Eve’s hand.

“Oh, you’re right!” Adam said cheerfully. “I never noticed that!”

Eve leaned up to peck Adam on the cheek, her affection casual but intimate. “It’s almost like fate, Addie~”

Fate. The word was bitter on Lucifer’s tongue. This wasn’t fate. This was a nightmare.

His chest tightened, his stomach churning with a mix of jealousy and anger. His sharp blue eyes flared with resentment as he glared at Eve. She had wormed her way into Adam’s life, into his heart, and Lucifer knew right then—he would have to get rid of her. She was already too close, too embedded, like a poison that had seeped too deep into Adam’s veins.

But he would cut her out, Lucifer thought, a dark determination settling in his gut. He would remove her, like a tumour that threatened to destroy everything.

"It's lovely to meet you, Eve," Lucifer said, his voice dripping with charm as he flashed her the smile that had always worked in the past. He had disarmed Lilith, and he had beaten Lute. Eve would be no different.

But Eve barely glanced at him, her attention already back on Adam.

“You too," she said dismissively, her tone indifferent.

Lucifer ground his teeth, the rejection stinging more than he cared to admit. Something about Eve was different—dangerous. But he wouldn’t lose. He couldn’t. Adam was his, and no one—not even this beautiful, smiling Beta—was going to take him away.

Let the game begin.

Wooing Eve was ten times harder than Lucifer had ever anticipated. Every move he made, every charming smile, every calculated glance, seemed to bounce off her like water on stone. It was frustrating beyond belief. She wasn’t like the others—those who had fallen easily into his orbit, enchanted by his blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and porcelain skin. Lucifer had always known the effect he had on people. He was used to the stares, the longing glances, the whispers. He was the perfect Omega; the kind people couldn’t help but be drawn to.

But not Eve.

Whenever she sat with him, it felt like she was miles away. Her amber eyes would glaze over, her focus elsewhere, as if his words were little more than background noise to her. It drove Lucifer mad—how could she not be interested? How could she resist what everyone else found irresistible? She should at least be curious, but instead, she brushed him off at every turn. It wasn't just that Eve wasn’t drawn to him—she got in the way.

Every time Lucifer tried to spend a moment alone with Adam, Eve was there, a permanent fixture at his side, her hand curled possessively around Adam’s. She’d flash that sweet, innocent smile at Adam, and it took everything in Lucifer not to snarl. That smile made his blood boil. It was infuriating, the way she slipped between him and Adam, as if she belonged there. The jealousy gnawed at him, sharp and relentless, feeding the fire of his determination.

But Lucifer wasn’t one to give up easily. He had never lost before, and he wasn’t going to start now. No matter how hard Eve made it, he would win. He had to. Adam was his.

One afternoon, Lucifer found himself leaning against the side of the house, arms crossed over his chest, foot casually propped against the wall as he waited for his opportunity. He watched as Eve walked past, completely oblivious to his presence, her curls bouncing with each step. His eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk. Fine. If she wanted to play hard, he could play dirty.

As Eve passed him, Lucifer slyly stuck his foot out, just enough to trip her. She stumbled, barely catching herself before hitting the ground, and when she straightened, her amber eyes were blazing with irritation. But she quickly masked it, brushing the dirt from her hands as though it was nothing.

"What’s your problem?" Lucifer asked, his voice low and sharp as he stared her down, his icy blue eyes glinting with challenge.

Eve raised an eyebrow, her expression carefully neutral as she dusted off her clothes. “Problem? What problem? I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Bullshit,” Lucifer snapped, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving hers. His frustration had been building for weeks, and now it poured out in cold, biting words. “You don’t like me. Don’t act like you do.”

For a moment, Eve simply stared at him, her lips curling into a slow, mocking grin. She tilted her head, her curls falling to the side as if she were amused by his sudden aggression. “What would give you that idea?” she asked, her voice saccharine sweet, dripping with false innocence.

Lucifer’s jaw clenched. Her nonchalance, her refusal to engage with him seriously, only fanned the flames of his anger. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wasn’t intimidated. It infuriated him, made him feel small in a way he hadn’t expected.

“Let’s not play games,” Lucifer said darkly, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was laced with venom. “You don’t want me around. You’re always in the way. Every time I try to be with Adam, you’re there, clinging to him like some—some parasite.”

Eve’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and she crossed her arms, mirroring his stance as she looked him over.

“I think you're overestimating your importance, Lucifer. Adam and I… we’re happy. You? You’re just part of his past. An afterthought.” Her grin widened slightly, her eyes glinting with satisfaction as she added, “Practically brothers, right?”

The words hit him like a slap, and Lucifer felt his chest tighten with a fresh wave of bitterness. Brothers. That word had been cutting at him since the day Adam had first said it, since the moment he was forced to watch Adam fall into the arms of someone else. He wasn’t just losing Adam—he was being pushed out of his life entirely. Reduced to a memory. A part of his past, something Eve could mock with a smile.

But Eve wasn’t done. She leaned in closer, her voice lowering to a whisper. “You should know by now, Lucifer… you’ve already lost. I’m not going anywhere.”

Lucifer’s heart twisted painfully, but he refused to let it show. He forced a cold smile, tilting his head as he met her gaze with defiance.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” His voice was icy, a challenge lingering in every word.

He watched as Eve straightened, unbothered by his threat, and walked away with an air of confidence that only deepened the ache inside him. Lucifer stood there, staring after her, the weight of her words settling heavily in his chest.

As much as he hated to admit it, there was a dark truth gnawing at the back of his mind: Eve had already claimed a place in Adam’s life. A place that had once been his. And no matter how hard he tried to hold on, Adam was slipping further and further away.

Lucifer's breath hitched, the sharp pang of heartbreak searing through him. For the first time, the thought crept in—what if he couldn’t win? What if Adam… was never his to begin with?

His hands clenched into fists as he leaned against the house, the once-sunny summer day feeling cold and distant. He would fight for Adam. He had to. But deep down, a small voice whispered in the quiet corners of his heart, asking a question he was too afraid to answer.

What if you’ve already lost?

Lucifer was done playing nice. He decided that if Eve wanted a challenge, he would give her one. He put on the mask of kindness, showering her with false compliments that, when examined closely, stung with a hidden blade. His voice was honeyed, but there was a sharpness to it, a glint in his eye that Eve couldn't quite ignore. At first, it worked—he could see the irritation flicker across her face whenever he made a snide remark cloaked in a sweet smile. The more it annoyed her, the more Lucifer pushed. He wanted to break through that facade of hers, force her to reveal the real reason she despised him.

One day, after a particularly icy exchange, Lucifer finally asked the question that had been burning at the back of his mind for months. “How did you know I had feelings for Adam?” His voice was calm, but his heart was racing, bracing itself for the answer he knew would hurt.

Eve didn’t hesitate. She shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “I can always tell when someone’s in love,” she replied, her amber eyes locking with his, a flicker of smugness in them. “It’s one of the reasons I can’t stand you.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, and he frowned, genuinely confused. “You hate me because I love him?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the hurt he was trying to conceal.

Eve smirked, shaking her head. “No,” she said coolly, “that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” Lucifer demanded, his patience wearing thin. The frustration had been building for so long, and he needed to know. He needed to understand why she despised him so much when he had done nothing but love the man she was now claiming as her own.

Eve’s smile turned cold, almost pitying, as she looked him over. “It’s because you’re an Omega, Lucifer. And you’re in love with another Omega. That’s... wrong.”

Lucifer’s heart lurched, and a fiery insult was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it, his jaw clenching.

“Why does that matter?” he snapped, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and outrage. “Love is love. It shouldn’t matter that we’re both Omegas.”

Eve rolled her eyes, as if his words were childish, foolish. “It’s unnatural,” she said with a condescending sigh. “Omegas are meant to be with Alphas. That’s the way it works.”

Lucifer’s skin prickled with disgust.

“You’re a Beta,” he shot back, his voice growing sharp with venom. “And by your logic, Betas shouldn’t be with Omegas either.”

A smug smile curled at the edge of Eve’s lips. “Betas and Omegas are more natural together than two Omegas.” Her voice dripped with superiority, and for the first time, Lucifer could see how deep her disdain for him ran. It wasn’t just about Adam. To her, he was fundamentally wrong, an aberration that didn’t fit into her world.

Lucifer’s retort died in his throat as something clicked.

A slow, dark realization crept over him, tightening around his heart like a vice. His eyes narrowed, the gears in his mind turning. Eve wasn’t just some random obstacle; she had a weakness, a belief system that was as fragile as it was twisted. And now Lucifer saw a way to exploit it.

A sly smile spread across his face, and he tilted his head, his voice soft and low, dripping with false innocence.

“Do you think you can fix me, then?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.

Eve blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. She frowned slightly; her confusion evident.

“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously, her voice wary.

Lucifer stepped closer, his smirk deepening. He leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Surely a powerful and beautiful Beta like you could fix a delusional Omega like me.”

For a moment, Eve seemed stunned, her eyes widening in surprise. But then, realization dawned across her face like the slow burn of a flame. Her lips twisted into a smirk, mirroring his, and she stepped closer, her confidence returning in full force. She moved with a deliberate sway, her bust bouncing as she closed the gap between them, her amber eyes gleaming with a predatory glint.

She reached up, her fingers tracing along Lucifer’s cheek, sending a cold shudder down his spine. Her touch was too soft, too intimate, and Lucifer had to bite back the revulsion curling in his gut. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a brief, teasing kiss, whispering, “I can.”

Lucifer’s stomach churned, but he masked it with another sly smile, playing the part.

“I certainly hope so,” he purred, his voice low, though every word tasted like poison.

Eve chuckled, the sound light and confident, as if she had already won the game. But Lucifer knew better. As her fingers lingered on his skin, as her lips curled into that satisfied smirk, Lucifer’s mind raced. He could feel her slipping into his trap, falling for the bait he had laid out so carefully.

This was the opening he had been waiting for.

He would let her believe she had control, let her think she was the one calling the shots. But beneath the surface, Lucifer was already planning, already plotting how to turn this twisted game in his favour. Eve may think she could fix him, but in the end, it would be her undoing.

As Eve walked away, Lucifer’s smile dropped, his face hardening with cold resolve. He would win. No matter what it took. Adam belonged to him. Eve may have thought she had the upper hand, but this was only the beginning. Lucifer would strip away her confidence, her smug superiority, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

And when that day came, Adam would finally see who had truly been by his side all along.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Lucifer’s gaze lingered on Adam, the way his face lit up as he chatted with his parents, the easy smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. Adam looked so happy, so effortlessly radiant, and it sent a dull ache straight to Lucifer’s chest. He bit down on his bottom lip hard, the pain grounding him. He wondered if Adam would ever forgive him for the things he hadn’t done yet, for the things he was planning. But what choice did he have? Adam was his. He couldn’t just let him slip away.

“Lucifer!” Adam’s voice broke through his swirling thoughts, pulling him back to reality. His heart leapt at the sound of his name on Adam’s lips. “What’re you doing all the way over there by yourself? Come here!”

Lucifer’s breath hitched, but he forced a smile to his face—this one real, soft, and full of affection. He quickly made his way over to stand beside Adam, the warmth of his presence wrapping around him like a blanket.

“Sorry,” Lucifer said, his voice quieter than he intended. “I was just thinking.”

Adam’s eyes sparkled with that playful glint that made Lucifer’s stomach flutter.

“About what?” Adam asked, a grin spreading across his face. “Anything about me?”

“Of course,” Lucifer replied with a chuckle, trying to keep his voice light even as his chest tightened with longing. His heart felt too big for his ribcage, like it was trying to claw its way out.

“All good things, I hope,” Adam teased, his grin widening.

Lucifer laughed, though it was softer this time, more vulnerable. His cheeks flushed pink. “They’re always good things.”

Adam smiled warmly at him, and for a moment, it was just the two of them—like it used to be. No Eve. No walls. No painful distance. But the moment shattered as quickly as it had formed when Eve’s voice cut through the air.

“So, how long have you two known each other?” she asked, her tone sweet but her eyes sharp and calculating. She sat there, looking at them like she was assessing some kind of threat, her presence an unspoken challenge.

Lucifer stiffened, but forced himself to relax, keeping his expression neutral. He couldn’t let her see how much she rattled him. Not yet. Not when it was still too soon to strike. He had to be smart about this.

He flashed her a polite smile, the kind he knew Adam would approve of, even though it tasted bitter on his tongue.

“Since we were kids,” he said smoothly. “We’ve practically grown up together.”

Eve nodded, her eyes flicking between him and Adam, her smile too wide, too perfect.

“That’s sweet,” she said, though there was a hint of something darker behind her words. “You must know each other really well, then.”

Lucifer could feel the weight of her stare, the challenge beneath her seemingly innocent questions. He wanted to snap back, to tell her exactly what he thought of her and this entire charade, but he swallowed his pride. He couldn’t afford to lose control, not now. Not when everything depended on him playing the long game.

So, he smiled. “Yes, very well,” he replied, keeping his voice gentle, even when every fibre of his being wanted to claw her apart. “We know everything about each other.”

Eve’s smile tightened, and Lucifer could see the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Good. It was working. But then, she shifted her tactics, her questions growing more pointed, more personal.

“How come you’re still single, then?” Eve asked, her tone sweet as honey but with a barb hidden beneath it. “I mean, someone like you—a pretty Omega—I’d think you’d be snatched up by now.”

Lucifer’s chest tightened; the insult wrapped in fake curiosity stinging more than he wanted to admit. He forced himself to keep his smile steady, even though his jaw ached from clenching his teeth.

“It’s hard to find the right person,” he said lightly, though his eyes darkened as they flickered to Adam, hoping—praying—that Adam understood the weight behind those words. But Adam didn’t seem to notice. He just smiled, oblivious, as if nothing in the world had changed between them.

The second reason Lucifer tolerated Eve’s needling questions was standing right next to him: Adam. If he played nice, if he didn’t let Eve get under his skin, Adam would be happy. And that was enough. For now.

He answered every one of her prying questions with carefully chosen words, even as Eve’s eyes glinted with smug satisfaction. She thought she had the upper hand. She thought she was winning.

But Lucifer could see the cracks forming in her facade. He could see how desperately she wanted to unsettle him, to throw him off balance. And that gave him power. He just had to wait for the right moment to use it.

As Eve continued to poke and prod, Lucifer bore it all with a calm, disarming smile. Let her think she had control. Let her think she was winning this twisted game.

Because when the time came, he would be the one standing beside Adam. He’d make sure of it. No matter what it cost him.

Even if he had to break his own heart in the process.

Lucifer was playing the long game, and Eve—clever as she was—believed she was the one in control. It was almost too easy. Every day, she would find ways to pull him aside, away from Adam, her sharp amber eyes assessing him like a predator stalking its prey. Her questions were always the same, carefully crafted to sink deeper, to twist his love for Adam into something less then. Something normal as she kept calling it.

‘You both are friends. Brothers even. Not lovers.’ She repeatedly said. ‘You have to remember that.’

"So," she said one evening, her voice soft but insidious as they sat together in the corner of the garden.

“How long have you been in love with him?" Her eyes glinted, daring him to deny it, but Lucifer didn’t flinch.

"For as long as I can remember," he replied smoothly, letting a small, almost wistful smile curl on his lips. He played the part of someone vulnerable, someone lost in their own foolish desires. He had to give her what she wanted—a sense of control over him.

"And how’s that working out for you?" she purred, leaning in closer, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "I mean, he’s with me now. You’re just... lingering on the sidelines."

The venom in her words dripped so effortlessly, like a snake coiling around his chest, but Lucifer remained unfazed.

"It’s complicated," Lucifer said, casting his gaze downward, as if shame was creeping in. "I guess I’ve been... holding on to something that isn’t there anymore."

Eve’s smirk widened at that. She thought she was winning. She thought her words were breaking him down, reshaping him into someone weaker.

“You poor thing," she whispered, her fingers curling under his chin to force him to meet her gaze. "If you’d just let go, if you’d stop clinging to him, you’d see how much better things could be."

Lucifer smiled, the perfect mix of regret and submission.

“Maybe you’re right." He let his voice crack just enough, feeding her the illusion that she was changing him, fixing him. "Maybe I’ve been wrong this whole time."

Eve beamed, her victory gleaming in her eyes.

"Of course I’m right," she said, her tone sickeningly sweet. "I can help you, Lucifer. I am helping you. You’re already starting to see things differently, aren’t you?"

Lucifer nodded slowly, allowing her to bask in the belief that she was the one with the power. He pulled away from Adam in small, deliberate ways. When Adam called his name, Lucifer hesitated before answering. He started sitting farther away, no longer draping himself over Adam’s shoulder or sharing their little inside jokes. Adam noticed, of course, his green eyes growing more distant, clouded with confusion and hurt.

But Lucifer didn’t notice Adam’s sadness—not fully. He was too wrapped up in playing his part, in pretending to succumb to Eve’s manipulations, even as his heart screamed every time he caught a glimpse of Adam’s wounded expressions. It was necessary. For now.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching Adam when no one was looking. When Adam laughed or smiled at something, Lucifer would find his eyes drifting toward him, the familiar ache of longing bubbling to the surface. He would daydream, imagining what it would be like if Adam were his again—if they could go back to how things were. But those were dangerous thoughts, ones he had to push down if he was going to keep up the charade.

One afternoon, Eve caught him staring a little too long. She snapped her fingers in front of his face, her eyes narrowing.

“Still thinking about him?" she asked, her voice biting.

Lucifer forced a laugh, shaking his head. "Old habits," he lied, letting his smile falter just enough for her to believe he was struggling.

"Come with me," Eve suddenly demanded, grabbing him by the arm.

She dragged him behind a cluster of trees, hidden from view. Lucifer’s heart sank, already knowing what was coming.

Eve pulled him close, her arms snaking around his neck. She leaned in, her breath warm against his skin as she whispered, "Kiss me. The more you kiss me, the more you’ll forget about him. You’ll forget those silly emotions, those misplaced feelings."

Lucifer bit back a snort of derision, the urge to push her away almost overwhelming. But he couldn’t—not yet. He had to play his part, had to let her believe she was breaking him down.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice subdued.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, forcing himself to suppress the disgust curling in his stomach as he leaned in. His lips met hers, and he shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the revulsion that crawled through his skin. It was mechanical, robotic. There was no feeling, no passion. Only duty.

When it was over, Lucifer turned away, his chest heaving. He wiped his mouth roughly with the back of his hand, the taste of her kiss lingering like poison on his lips. He hoped she hadn’t noticed his disgust.

Eve, however, looked pleased, her smirk smug as she tilted her head to watch him.

“See? It’s already working," she cooed, stepping closer and brushing a finger down his arm. "You’re forgetting, aren’t you? You’ll be normal soon.”

Lucifer smiled weakly, letting her believe it. "Yeah," he said, though the word tasted like ash in his mouth. "I’m starting to forget."

And so, the twisted game continued. Eve dragged him away in secret more often, pulling him into corners and behind doors where she could kiss him, press herself against him, and whisper in his ear that he was healing, that she was helping him forget Adam.

But Lucifer never forgot. Not for a second. Even as his lips met hers, even as he played his part with perfection, his heart was always elsewhere. It was with Adam—always Adam.

And one day, when the time was right, Lucifer would make sure it stayed that way. He just had to be patient. He had to let Eve believe she was winning until the moment he was ready to take everything back.

Including Adam.

“Now, the most important lesson.” Eve said softly, pulling him close. She trailed a hand down his back, lightly stroking his plump backside.

Lucifer bit back a grimace. He wanted to shove her away and run away, telling her to never touch him again.

“Important lesson?” He asked cutely. “What would that be?”

Eve cupped his face and pushed her lips to his. Lucifer didn’t kiss back this time and waited for it to be over.

She then whispered against his lips. “You often think of him when you touch yourself don’t you?”

Eyes widening in surprise, Lucifers face darkened. “What? How could you ask me-“

“I told you. It’s the most important lesson.” She clicked her tongue at him. “If you keep thinking of him during those moment, if he’s the one you fantasy about during your heat, you’ll never be normal.”

Lucifer bristled at those words. Normal. Adam would ever be the only person on his mind when he touches himself. When he goes into what it will only be Adam he thinks off. It made him furious that Eve was even suggesting trying and not let Adam slip into his mind.

“Tomorrow night, let me give you something more…” Eve whispered seductively. “Something more exotic and exciting. It’ll help you become fully normal.”

Lucifer inhaled sharply. He wanted to scream and smack her. But he didn’t. He smiled, his eyes lightening up with darkness.

“During the bonfire ritual?” He cooed with a purr. “Looking forward to it.”

The night of the bonfire ritual arrived, the air thick with the scent of burning wood and the soft hum of voices gathering in the distance. For the first time in months, Lucifer's stomach wasn’t knotted in dread or frustration. Instead, it fluttered with butterflies and bumblebees, a warm, almost unbearable excitement that spread through his chest. He blushed at the thought—this would be the first time they’d go to the bonfire together, side by side like they always used to. Adam won’t even be thinking about Eve by the end of the night, he told himself.

And maybe…maybe he’ll forgive me for everything. He has to. Right?

Lucifer and Adam approached the field, the flickering glow of the bonfire illuminating the path ahead. Old Betty and Berry, the elders who oversaw the ceremony, stood at the entry, their approving eyes landing on the two omegas walking together.

Old Betty chuckled, her wrinkled face lighting up as she teased, “Well, it’s about time. Both of you finally made it on time this year.”

Lucifer smiled shyly, casting a glance at Adam. "Do you remember how excited we were the first time we came here? As teenagers?"

His voice was soft, almost wistful, as the memories of their younger selves flooded back. He could still picture it—two wide-eyed boys, thrilled to be part of the sacred tradition, nervous but giddy with anticipation.

Adam’s face brightened, a soft blush colouring his cheeks as he nodded.

"I do remember," he said with a grin. "We thought we were so grown-up, wearing our carnations and holding apples like we had any idea what we were doing."

Lucifer’s heart swelled at the sight of Adam’s smile. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them again, like nothing had changed. Eve’s disapproving pout snapped him back to reality.

"Can I have red carnations and apples too?" she asked, her tone edging on petulant. It was clear she didn’t understand the significance, didn’t care about it the way they did. She folded her arms, her eyes darting between them.

Old Berry patted her on the shoulder, his weathered hand comforting yet firm. "We don’t pick our crowns, my dear. The gods decide what is given to us."

“Fine,” she muttered, though her displeasure was obvious. Eve’s eyes rolled, but she let out a resigned sigh.

She stepped forward as the elders began weaving the ceremonial crowns into their hair. Lucifer watched with quiet satisfaction as Eve was given poppies and grapes. Not carnations. Not apples.

“They match you,” Adam said, his green eyes warm as he beamed at her, squeezing her hand.

Eve practically glowed under his praise; her smile wide as she leaned into him. Lucifer felt his chest tighten, the bile rising as he watched her fingers intertwine with Adam’s.

But he kept his face calm, his heart steeling itself for what was to come. Tonight wasn’t about the little victories. Tonight was the night he would win Adam back. Eve’s smile, her presence, would be forgotten by the time the stars blinked out of the sky. He had to believe that.

As they moved deeper into the field, surrounded by the crackling warmth of the fire, the sky stretched above them, dark and endless. The village was gathered, their faces glowing in the firelight, crowns of flowers and fruit dotting their heads. The ritual was about to begin, and Lucifer could feel the pulse of it, the way the air shimmered with magic, with the unspoken promises of the gods.

He glanced at Adam again, his heart hammering. By the end of this night, he thought, it’ll just be us again. Like it’s always been.

The fire roared higher, and the chanting began. Each couple was to walk through the flames—a symbolic passage into the next phase of their lives. A chance to solidify bonds or break them entirely.

Lucifer’s eyes darted to Eve. She stood beside Adam, her face serene, confident. But there was something else there too, something that had been growing in her eyes over the past few weeks. A knowing. She wasn’t a fool, despite how she presented herself. She knew Lucifer had been playing her game, and in some twisted way, she liked it. She believed she had broken him, that she had stolen Adam from him completely. But Lucifer had one last move left to play.

As the night deepened and the first few pairs crossed the bonfire’s edge, Lucifer felt the weight of what he was about to do settle into his bones. He was taking a risk—a massive one. But he had no choice.

But Adam will forgive him. He always forgives him. They are only going through a rough patch right now.

He waited until Eve and Adam were standing close to the fire, ready to cross together. He stepped up beside them, his voice soft but clear.

“Adam,” he said, his heart in his throat. “Can I walk with you? One last time?”

Eve's eyes flashed with irritation, her grip tightening on Adam’s hand. "He’s with me now, Lucifer," she said sharply.

But Adam hesitated, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“We haven’t really seen each other all year,” Adam murmured, glancing between them.

Lucifer swallowed, feeling the eyes of the entire village on them. He had to act now, before Eve could solidify her grip any further.

He took a step closer, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, Adam. Just this one time."

Adam looked torn, and Lucifer’s heart raced, desperation clawing at his chest. Then, slowly, Adam nodded. Eve’s face hardened, her grip slackening as Adam stepped toward Lucifer.

As they walked toward the fire together, side by side, the world seemed to still. Lucifer’s pulse roared in his ears, the heat of the flames licking at his skin. Adam glanced at him, a soft smile on his lips, and for the first time in months, it felt like things might be okay again.

But Lucifer knew this was only the beginning. What came next would determine everything. And he wasn’t about to let Eve win. Not now. Not ever.

As they approached the fire, the crackling flames illuminated the darkness, casting long shadows over the field. The heat licked at Lucifer’s skin, but his mind was elsewhere, focused solely on Adam beside him. His heart pounded in his chest, a painful thud that echoed in his ears. He swallowed hard, glancing shyly at Adam from the corner of his eye. For a moment, it was just the two of them, like it used to be.

"Adam..." Lucifer's voice came out soft, almost timid. He felt small next to him, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been in years. "These past months...they’ve been really hard for me."

Adam winced, his footsteps slowing as they moved further from the bonfire’s edge. He turned to face Lucifer fully, his expression softening, though there was something distant in his eyes. “They’ve been hard for me too,” he murmured, his voice sincere but laced with an underlying tension that Lucifer couldn’t quite place.

Lucifer’s heart clenched at those words, a flicker of hope igniting inside him.

"Is that true?" he asked, his voice trembling. He searched Adam’s face, desperate for reassurance. "If it was so hard for you, then why did you ignore me? Why didn’t you respond at all?"

The words spilled out of him before he could stop them, his emotions unravelling, raw and exposed. He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt the first tear roll down his cheek, hot and bitter. His breath hitched, and he choked back a sob, trying to keep it together, but the weight of everything—months of silence, of distance, of heartache—was crashing down on him all at once.

Adam’s eyes widened in concern, and without hesitation, he reached out, taking both of Lucifer’s hands in his own. His grip was firm but gentle, and Lucifer felt the familiar warmth of Adam’s touch, the way his fingers curled around his. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d been starved for, and it only made the tears come harder.

"Hey, hey..." Adam whispered, his voice soft and soothing. His familiar pheromones rolled over Lucifer like a blanket, calming yet painful in their familiarity. "Don’t cry, Luci. You know I hate seeing you cry."

The sound of his old nickname, the one only Adam ever used, made Lucifer’s heart flutter painfully in his chest. He wanted to believe that things hadn’t changed, that they were still the same, but the presence of Eve, the cold distance between them, was a constant reminder that everything was different now.

"It’s been so hard without you," Lucifer sobbed, his voice breaking. His hands trembled in Adam’s grasp, his fingers tightening as if he was afraid that if he let go, Adam would slip away from him again.

"Every day... it’s been so difficult. I’ve been so lonely. I tried to reach you, Adam, but you never..." His words trailed off, his throat closing as more tears spilled over.

Adam’s face twisted in regret, his brow furrowing as he squeezed Lucifer’s hands tighter. “I know, I know... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to.” His voice was thick with emotion, and for a moment, Lucifer saw the Adam he had always known—the boy who would stay up late with him, who would listen to all his fears, who made him feel like the world was never too big as long as they were together.

"Then why?" Lucifer’s voice was a broken whisper, pleading, desperate for an answer that could make sense of the ache in his chest. "Why did you shut me out?"

Adam exhaled shakily, looking away for a moment, his gaze falling to the fire that roared behind them.

“It wasn’t easy for me either. Things just got... complicated.” He paused, biting his lip as if searching for the right words. “Eve... she’s different. Everything with her happened so fast, and I didn’t know how to balance it all. I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

The name alone felt like a stab to Lucifer’s heart. Eve. Always Eve. His breath hitched, and he tried to pull his hands back, but Adam held onto him, unwilling to let him go.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Luci," Adam said again, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “You’re my best friend. You’ll always be my best friend. But things... things aren’t the same anymore.”

Lucifer felt like he was drowning, his vision blurred with tears as Adam’s words echoed in his head. Best friend. That was all he was to Adam now. Just a memory of something that used to be. He had hoped, so desperately, that this night would change everything, that Adam would look at him the way he used to. But now... all that hope was slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Adam admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, that it was agonizing to hold back, to not respond the way his heart screamed at him to. Every fibre of his being ached to reach out, to reassure Lucifer, but he knew it would unravel everything they'd worked for, make it all pointless. His chest tightened as he forced himself to stay composed, even as a part of him yearned to erase the growing distance between them.

Lucifer sniffed, his eyes wet and clouded with hurt. "It’s not fair," he murmured, his voice cracking, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Adam nodded slowly, his heart sinking.

"It’s not fair," he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. "But we need this space, Luc. We need to grow on our own, to figure out who we are without... without leaning on each other so much. What happens when I mate? Or when you do? What then?"

He chuckled softly, though there was no humour in it, just a hollow attempt to mask the pain in his chest. The thought of them drifting even further apart, finding comfort in someone else's arms, twisted inside him like a cruel joke.

Lucifer, however, frowned deeply, his expression hardening as if trying to shield himself from the reality of Adam’s words. "I'd always put you first," he muttered, his voice resolute, though it trembled at the edges. "You know that."

And that—that—was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Adam sighed, his heart aching at the devotion in Lucifer’s voice.

"That’s the problem," he whispered, the words heavy with sadness. "You shouldn’t be. You should be thinking about finding your own happiness, about a nice alpha or beta who makes you feel whole, who... who can give you the kind of life you deserve."

Adam paused, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "We’re getting older, Luc. We’re both nearing our bearing stages. We can’t keep doing this forever." His voice faltered, barely able to hold itself together as he stared at the ground, unable to meet Lucifer’s gaze, knowing the words were shattering his heart.

Lucifer’s breath hitched, and when Adam finally glanced up, he was met with blood-rimmed eyes, full of unshed tears.

"Is that where Eve comes in?" Lucifer asked, his voice barely audible, the question hanging in the air like a raw wound.

Adam’s face flushed, his cheeks burning under the weight of Lucifer’s gaze. He fumbled for words, trying to explain, to make Lucifer understand without causing more pain.

"I... I really like her," he admitted, his voice soft but earnest. "She’s... different, Luc. She’s not like anyone I’ve met before."

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding as he continued, each word feeling like a betrayal. "Eve... she was there for me. When everything felt like it was falling apart, she listened. She didn’t just hear me, she listened to every word, every fear, and she... she helped me when I needed it most."

Lucifer remained silent, though Adam could see the way his hands clenched into fists, how each word seemed to cut deeper than the last. It felt like he was tearing something irreplaceable between them with every sentence, but he had no choice. They couldn’t keep living in the same limbo, tangled in each other’s lives while their futures slipped away.

Lucifer wanted to ask. He wanted to know if Adam loved her, if Eve had already taken the place in Adam’s heart that he had so desperately wanted to fill himself. But he couldn’t. The question lodged in his throat, too painful to voice, because what if Adam said yes? What if he was already gone? Could Lucifer bear to hear the truth? Could he survive the answer that would break him entirely?

Adam paused, inhaling deeply as if trying to steady himself for what he was about to say. His lips curled into a soft grin, the kind that was shy and boyish, with a light in his eyes that made him look like he was confessing a secret he’d been holding close for far too long.

“I’m thinking of inviting her to my heat,” he said, his voice almost tentative, as if testing how the words sounded aloud.

“You know, see if she'd want to... mate with me tonight." He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair, clearly anxious. "I’ve never had much luck with bonfire nights. They’re supposed to help find a partner, but... well, you know."

Lucifer stiffened at the words, his body going rigid as though struck by an invisible force. His stomach twisted painfully, and a cold, possessive fury began to churn deep within him.

Absolutely not.

The thought blazed through him like wildfire. The idea of someone else, of her, touching Adam in that way, claiming him, was unthinkable. He could feel the dark, possessive side of himself clawing at the surface, desperate to break free, to stop this before it ever happened.

His pussy grows hot at the thought of Adam being in heat. It was something Lucifer tried not to think about as it always set his body off and he’s beginning to drip if he contained. But the thought of anyone but himself with Adam during his heat made him angry.

Lucifer wanted to be the one tangled up with Adam. Taking care of him, pleasuring Adam. Lucifers sure he could do a better job than Eve. Adam would come to love his fingers, tongue and of course, his omega pussy.

He’s sure Adam will love to ride his pussy! Lucifer couldn’t wait to ride Adam’s! To feel the heat pressed against his aching cunt, to feel their body fluids mingle! Lucifer fantasied about it often.

Lucifer kept his face calm, even offering a tight smile as he swallowed down the surge of jealousy. His blue eyes grew hooded and dark, the tempest brewing within hidden behind a veneer of composure. He bore the sharpness of his grin, forcing it into something that resembled support, though every word was a lie.

“Eve’s a nice girl,” Lucifer said smoothly, his voice a velvet caress, though his heart twisted with the falsehood of it. “She’s perfect for you.”

Perfect. The word tasted bitter on his tongue. He didn’t believe it, not for a second. Nobody—nobody—was perfect for Adam but himself. He’d known Adam his entire life, been there through every high and every low. Eve was nothing more than an outsider, a fleeting distraction that didn’t deserve to be anywhere near Adam, let alone during his heat.

But Lucifer couldn’t say that. He couldn’t risk Adam knowing what he was truly feeling, so he kept his mask firmly in place. He added with false admiration, “She’s very beautiful. I’ve never seen hair that red before.”

Adam’s face lit up at the compliment, his eyes brightening as if Lucifer’s approval was all he had been waiting for.

“She is, isn’t she?” he beamed. “She’s the most stunning beta I’ve ever seen.”

Lucifer’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he forced himself to smile, nodding along, though the words grated against him like shards of glass. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the jealousy at bay, trying to be what Adam needed in that moment. But inside, the possessiveness roared louder, drowning out every rational thought.

Adam hesitated then, his expression softening as he glanced over at Lucifer, his gaze searching, uncertain.

“I was worried you wouldn’t approve,” he admitted, his voice almost shy. “I thought... I thought you wouldn’t like her.”

Lucifer nearly laughed at how well Adam knew him, but he held it back, not wanting to give himself away. Of course, Adam would sense something was off—how could he not? Lucifer’s feelings for him were impossible to hide, but he’d spent years burying them, pretending they weren’t there, pretending he didn’t want Adam more than anything.

Lucifer’s smile softened, and this time there was real warmth in his voice, though it was tinged with sadness. “I just want you to be happy,” he murmured, his heart aching with the truth of it. And it was the truth. As much as it hurt, as much as the idea of Adam with someone else gutted him, Lucifer wanted Adam’s happiness more than anything.

Adam’s face broke into a radiant smile, his whole being lighting up with joy at Lucifer’s words. He closed the distance between them, pulling Lucifer into a tight embrace.

Lucifer couldn’t help the way his body reacted, instinctively pressing into the warmth of Adam’s hold, his arms wrapping around him like it was the only place he was meant to be. A soft purr escaped his chest, the sound vibrating between them as he nuzzled into the crook of Adam’s neck, inhaling his scent deeply, trying to commit it to memory as if he were afraid it might fade.

“I really did miss you,” Adam whispered, his breath warm against Lucifer’s ear, and Lucifer felt his heart melt, the walls he’d carefully built around himself crumbling in an instant.

“I missed you so much too,” Lucifer replied, his voice low, trembling with the weight of emotion he’d been holding back for so long. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want this moment to end, but he knew it had to.

Adam pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Lucifer’s gaze, his eyes soft and sincere.

“I’ll text more this time,” he promised with a smile, his voice full of warmth and affection.

Lucifer blushed, the pink flush spreading across his cheeks as he tried to play it cool.

“You better,” he teased, though the words were laced with vulnerability. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Adam laughed, the sound like a balm to Lucifer’s aching heart.

“Of course you will!” he said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with the easy affection that always seemed to linger between them.

And for a brief, stolen moment, it was just the two of them again—wrapped in each other’s warmth, their hearts beating in sync. But the reality of their growing distance loomed ever closer, and Lucifer couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could pretend everything was fine when, deep down, it was anything but.

It was time.

It was time to put his plan into action. It was now or never.

~#~

The bonfire crackled and spat as the night air filled with the sharp scent of burning wood. The flames danced higher, casting an eerie glow of purple and blue, their colours swirling together like the remnants of a bruised sky. Around the fire, couples swayed in synchrony, their soft touches and delicate kisses becoming a part of the ancient mating ritual, their connection to one another as palpable as the heat of the flames.

Lucifer stood at the edge of it all, his gaze cold, detached, as if the warmth of the fire and the love around it couldn't quite reach him. Yet, with a feigned bashfulness, he extended his hand toward Eve, luring her effortlessly away from the crowd. She followed him eagerly, a triumphant glint in her eyes, her lips curling into a smirk that hinted at the satisfaction of conquest. To her, it must have felt like victory, like she had won something unspoken—but Lucifer knew better.

Behind a cluster of trees, far enough from the prying eyes of the others, Eve pressed herself against him, her breath heavy with anticipation. She thought she had control, that she had him ensnared.

Her smirk deepened as she whispered, "Are you ready to be fixed, Lucifer?"

Her fingers trailed delicately over his flushed cheeks, tracing lines that felt more like chains to him.

"After this," she murmured, her voice dripping with sweet poison, "You’ll never think of another Omega like that again. I’ll make sure of it."

Lucifer swallowed the bile rising in his throat and let himself lean into her touch, feigning compliance. He purred under her fingertips, though the sound was hollow, and curled his lips into what passed as a smile, suppressing the grimace that threatened to surface. He allowed her to think she had power, that this moment was hers to control. After all, it was what she wanted—what they all wanted. The illusion of dominance. Betas, Alphas, they were all the same, so easy to deceive, so eager to believe in a reality they could shape to their desires.

Eve leaned in closer, her lips brushing just shy of his, her breath hot against his skin. Lucifer stiffened, drawing in a deep breath through his nose. For a moment, time slowed, and he kissed her—quickly, reluctantly. Her kiss felt wrong, out of place, like pieces of a puzzle that would never fit no matter how hard you forced them together. But Lucifer pushed aside the discomfort, knowing that soon, too soon, this charade would be over. Her touch would no longer linger on his skin, her scent would no longer cling to his thoughts.

The night spun around him in a blur of unwanted touches and whispered promises that tasted like lies. His head felt light, as if the air had been sucked from his lungs, leaving him disoriented. It was all happening too fast, too messy. The world swayed, and then—

"What are you doing?!" The sharp voice sliced through the night, jagged and filled with shock.

Lucifer flinched, his body pulling back instinctively as if the sound itself had slapped him. The two of them separated, the sudden intrusion breaking the fragile illusion of control that had encased them.

Lucifer’s heart pounded in his chest, his pulse quickening as reality came crashing back. Eve’s eyes widened in surprise, her mouth falling open as if the words were stuck in her throat. She hadn't anticipated this, hadn’t expected the night to unravel so quickly.

The voice came again, louder, angrier, cutting through the thick night air like a blade. "I said, what are you doing?"

Lucifer stood frozen, his thoughts a tangled web of confusion and frustration. But in that moment, as Eve’s grip on him loosened and her self-assured smirk began to falter, a strange sense of relief washed over him. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to go, but maybe—just maybe—it was exactly what he needed.

The night held its breath, waiting for what would happen next.

Eve recoiled from Lucifer as if his touch had scalded her skin, her eyes wide, flushed with panic. For a fleeting second, Lucifer resisted the urge to glare at her, instead shifting his gaze to Adam, who had appeared out of nowhere, his face a mixture of shock and hurt. Lucifer felt a flicker of amusement tug at his lips—he could almost taste the delicious chaos unfolding before him.

Eve stammered, scrambling to string words together. "Adam, it’s not—it’s not what it looks like. I was just—"

"Helping him?" Adam cut her off sharply, his voice laced with bitterness. His eyes burned with betrayal as he pointed toward Lucifer. "Helping him how, Eve? By kissing my best friend?"

The accusation hung in the air like a death knell, and the attention of the entire gathering was drawn toward them. Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike turned their curious, judgmental gazes toward the confrontation. Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind rustling through leaves, their eyes filled with disbelief and condemnation.

Lucifer could barely suppress the gleeful tremor that ran through his body. Eve’s face flushed a deeper crimson, embarrassment seeping into her every movement as she shook her head frantically, her words tumbling over each other in a desperate attempt to explain. "No, Adam, please, it’s not what it seems! I wasn’t—"

But Adam cut her off again, his voice cracking with pain. "How could you do this to me? I thought—"

His voice wavered, then firmed with the weight of his wounded pride. "I thought you liked me, Eve. I thought we had something real."

"I do like you!" Eve cried, her voice rising with a sense of desperation. "I care about you, Adam! I want to be with you! I want to—"

Adam’s hand ripped itself from her pleading grasp, his green eyes narrowing into slits of fury.

"You call this liking me?" He spat, his voice trembling. "How can you say that when you’re so willing to kiss someone else? To kiss him?"

His eyes flicked briefly to Lucifer, disgust tightening his features before returning to Eve. "I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, Eve. I was ready to mate with you. But now... how could I ever trust you?"

Eve lunged toward him, grabbing his hands again, her eyes wide and wild with panic. "Adam, no! I want to mate with you, I want to be with you! Please, believe me, it wasn’t like that—"

But Adam tore himself away from her again, his heart visibly hardening against her pleas. "You’re a liar, Eve," he hissed through clenched teeth, his voice barely above a whisper but packed with venom.

Eve’s gasp was sharp, wounded. "How dare you call me a liar?" she shot back, her voice breaking with insult.

Adam’s eyes flared with disbelief. "How dare I?!" His voice rose with incredulous rage. "I just saw you making out with Lucifer! You were all over him!"

"I wasn’t!" Eve’s voice cracked, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "I was trying to fix him, Adam! He needs help—"

"Fix him?" Adam interrupted, his voice thick with sarcasm and disbelief. "Fix him with your mouth? With your tongue?"

The words were cruel, each one hitting Eve like a slap. Her tears spilled over, her face crumbling as she shook her head in desperation.

"You don’t understand!" she pleaded, her voice breaking as her hands trembled.

Adam’s laugh was bitter, hollow. "You’re right. I don’t understand. I don’t understand how I didn’t see you for what you really are. How could I have been so blind?"

His voice dropped, thick with sorrow. "How could you cheat on me, Eve? With him? My best friend?"

Eve choked on her sobs, shaking her head furiously. "I wasn’t cheating, Adam! I swear, I was just trying to help him. All those times—"

"All those times?" Adam’s voice turned icy, each word colder than the last. "How many times have you gone behind my back, Eve?"

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She was trapped, her silence speaking louder than any words could. Adam’s face twisted with disbelief, and he shook his head as if trying to shake away the reality of it all.

"I thought you were different," he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with the weight of a shattered heart.

"I am different!" Eve cried, her hands reaching for him, but he stepped back, out of reach.

"No," Adam said firmly, his eyes now void of any warmth. "You’re not. I want to break up."

Eve’s world seemed to collapse in that moment. She lunged toward him; her voice frantic, desperate. "No, Adam, please! Don’t do this! I love you, I—"

But Adam shook his head, his voice breaking as he said, "There’s no way I can be with someone like you. Someone who’d cheat on me like this."

The words struck her like a blow, and for a moment, Eve could only gape at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Her eyes darted to Lucifer, then back to Adam, but it was too late. She could feel the weight of the stares pressing down on her, the judgment of every Alpha, Beta, and Omega in the circle.

The whispers grew louder, venomous. The looks of disapproval stung like lashes across her skin. Her heart pounded in her chest as the murmurs filled her ears, their voices dripping with disdain. She could feel their hatred, their rejection, and it twisted inside her, until finally, she snapped.

"Fine!" she screamed, her voice shrill and ragged. "I don’t need you, Adam! You were a terrible boyfriend anyway!"

Her voice cracked with anger and humiliation. "No Alpha or Beta will ever want someone like you! You’ll be alone forever, and even if someone does take pity on you, they’ll cheat on you behind your back, just like I did!"

Adam flinched at the words, as if each one had struck him like a physical blow. He closed his eyes, his face crumpling with the effort to hold back his tears.

From the crowd, another Omega stepped forward, their voice firm and steady. "Eve, it’s time for you to leave."

Eve’s eyes flashed with defiance. "I have a right to be here! This is my bonfire too!"

But the crowd was against her now. More voices joined the chorus, telling her to leave, their faces hard with disapproval. She stood there for a moment, trembling with rage, before finally, with a frustrated scream, she stormed away.

As she left, she ripped the poppy and grape crown from her head and threw it to the ground, stomping on it with a snarl.

"This was a stupid tradition anyway!" she yelled, her voice shrill and bitter as it echoed into the night.

The Omega who had spoken first bent down, picking up the discarded crown with a look of disgust. They threw it away, brushing their hands off as if they’d touched something filthy.

"Good riddance," they muttered, shaking their head as the bonfire crackled on, its flames dancing higher into the night.

Lucifer watched with wide, blue eyes as the scene unfolded in front of him. His chest filled with a warmth that spread through his veins—a sick pleasure at seeing his plan come together so perfectly. Eve was gone. Poisonous, deceitful Eve was no longer a threat. She was out of the picture, and more importantly, no longer Adam's girlfriend. Lucifer's heart raced, and he felt a twisted sense of relief wash over him. Now, everything could return to the way it was supposed to be. Him and Adam, just like before.

With eager steps, Lucifer moved toward Adam, already picturing the moment they would finally be together again. His lips parted to speak, to say the words he had longed to say for so long—It’s just us now, Adam. It’s always been just us. Let’s go back to how it was before.

But the second his eyes met Adam’s, everything froze.

Adam’s stare was cold—so cold it burned. His green eyes, usually so full of life and light, were deadened by anger and something worse—disappointment. The sight sent a chill down Lucifer’s spine, turning the warmth he’d felt into icy dread. His steps faltered, and the words died on his tongue as the colour drained from his face. He tried to move, tried to speak, but Adam shook his head, his expression twisting with disgust.

"Adam, wait—" Lucifer’s voice cracked as he reached out for him, panic rising in his chest, but before he could say another word, Adam spun on his heel, stomping away from him. The distance between them grew like a chasm, and Lucifer, desperate, ran after him.

"Adam!" Lucifer shouted, his voice frantic as he grabbed Adam’s arm, trying to pull him back. "Please, just—"

But before he could finish, Adam’s fist collided with his face.

The punch came out of nowhere, sending Lucifer crashing to the ground. He hit the earth hard, the pain radiating from his cheek as he landed painfully on his back. For a moment, everything spun—his vision blurred, his body trembling as he touched his bruised face, dazed and confused.

Adam had hit him. Adam had punched him.

Lucifer looked up, blinking furiously as he tried to understand. Adam, his Adam, was glaring down at him with fury in his eyes.

"How could you?!" Adam’s voice was raw with rage, and Lucifer’s heart shattered at the sound. Tears gathered in Adam’s green eyes, turning them glassy as he trembled with the weight of his fury. "How could you do that to me? I thought you were my friend! My best friend!"

Lucifer opened his mouth to explain, to defend himself, but Adam cut him off with a sharp, venomous command. "Shut the fuck up!"

The words pierced Lucifer like a blade, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. Adam’s voice shook with years of pent-up betrayal, the hurt in his voice making Lucifer’s chest tighten.

"I’m so sick of your excuses," Adam spat, his voice trembling. "You think I’m stupid, don’t you? You think I haven’t noticed all the things you’ve done to me over the years? I’ve tried everything to be a good friend to you, Lucifer, but clearly, you’ve thought of me as a fool all this time!"

Lucifer shook his head, his voice breaking as he whispered, "No, Adam, I—"

"Don’t lie to me!" Adam’s scream cut through the night like a whip, making Lucifer flinch. "You’ve done it before! Time and time again, you’ve pulled this shit, and I let it slide because you were my best friend! But I see you now, Lucifer! I see you for who you really are!"

Lucifer's heart pounded in terror as Adam continued, his voice thick with years of buried resentment.

"First with Lilith!" Adam’s voice broke, and Lucifer felt his stomach drop as the mention of her name echoed through the crowd. He watched in horror as Lilith herself emerged from the gathering of onlookers, her icy-blue eyes widening in surprise as she saw the confrontation unfold before her.

"I told you how much I liked her," Adam continued, his voice trembling with emotion. "I told you she was the smartest, most beautiful girl I’d ever met. I was terrified I wouldn’t be enough for her, but you—you encouraged me! You said I had nothing to worry about. You said you were my friend!" Adam’s voice cracked as the memories poured out, his eyes reddening with unshed tears.

The crowd around them grew larger, the curious whispers growing louder as everyone listened intently to the drama unfolding between the two friends.

"I introduced you to her!" Adam shouted, his hands trembling as he gestured toward Lilith, who now stood at the front of the crowd, her expression a mixture of shock and recognition. "I thought you didn’t like her, and then... I found out you did. And you know what? It hurt. But I let it go. I wanted you to be happy. I let you date her because I cared about you more than I cared about my own feelings!"

Lucifer's face drained of colour, his heart pounding in his chest as Adam's words hit him like a sledgehammer.

"And then," Adam’s voice trembled even more now, "there was Lute."

Lucifer’s stomach twisted painfully as he saw Lute appear through the crowd. Her eyes, once so warm and understanding, now burned with fury as she met Lucifer’s gaze. She had begun to piece everything together, and Lucifer felt the weight of her judgment pressing down on him.

"You went after her too," Adam said, his voice now quieter, broken. "You couldn’t just let me have anyone. You made sure I couldn’t even be friends with her. You pushed me away—over and over again."

The whispers from the crowd were growing louder now, filled with judgment. Lucifer could feel the weight of their eyes on him, and for the first time, he felt vulnerable. Exposed.

"I thought you were healing," Adam continued, his voice barely above a whisper now, thick with emotion. "I thought you were in pain after Lilith, that you didn’t mean to hurt me. But now I see... you never cared. You never saw me as good enough for anyone."

Lucifer flinched, his body trembling as he tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Adam’s eyes, once filled with love and trust, were now cold and distant.

"All those years," Adam said, shaking his head, "I forgave you, because I loved you. You were my everything. But Eve? My Eve... my first love? I can’t forgive you for that. I can’t look at you, Lucifer. I hate you."

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat as Adam’s words cut through him like a knife. "Adam, no—please, I—"

"You’re Morningstar to me now," Adam said, his voice shaking with finality. "I can’t even say your name anymore. I hate you so much. You’ve destroyed me, and this... this is the last time."

“We can’t be friends anymore. We can’t be anything. Stay away from, you’re no longer welcome in my house, with my family, you’re no longer welcome in my life anymore.”

Lucifer's heart shattered into a thousand pieces as he watched the only person, he had ever loved walk away, leaving him alone, broken, and despised by the very people he had tried to manipulate. The flames of the bonfire flickered behind him, but for Lucifer, the night had never felt colder.

Lilith and Lute shared a long look. They nodded to one another – it seemed they needed to have a long talk.

Lucifer glared as the two Alphas walked away from him too.

They had no right to judge him.

No fucking right.

~#~

Lucifer was so beyond stupid. He had ruined everything. All those years with Adam—every moment, every laugh, every whispered word—gone. Reduced to ruins, destroyed, crumbled into dust like fragile glass shattered by his own foolish hand. The memories that once filled him with warmth now only served to hollow him out, leaving behind nothing but a gaping emptiness that gnawed at his soul.

He could still feel the ghost of those nights in Adam’s nest, the way they would tangle together under blankets, bodies pressed close, seeking comfort in each other's presence. The warmth that had surrounded them, the safety Lucifer had found there, was gone now. Destroyed. He could still remember how Adam’s heartbeat had sounded beneath his ear, steady and calming, grounding him when the world felt too harsh. Adam’s scent had always been his sanctuary, the one place Lucifer felt truly at home, truly wanted.

But all of that was lost now. Gone.

The jealousy—the possessiveness—that had festered inside Lucifer for so long had finally destroyed everything. How could he have let it consume him? How could he have been so reckless, so blind? If only he had been honest from the beginning, if only he had told Adam the truth about how he felt. If only he had had the courage to say, I love you. Maybe then things would have been different. Maybe then Adam wouldn’t have walked away.

He should have told him. He should have told him.

If Lucifer had just opened his mouth, told Adam how his heart beat faster every time he was near, how the thought of losing him was more terrifying than anything else in the world... maybe it wouldn’t have come to this. But he hadn’t. He had kept his feelings locked away, hidden beneath layers of fear and denial. He had let his insecurity fester, had allowed his jealousy to take control, and now... he was paying the price.

And it wasn’t just love that he had kept hidden—it was fear. Raw, paralyzing fear. Because Lucifer was an Omega in love with another Omega. In their world, that was unheard of, taboo. His family had already disowned him, cast him aside like he was nothing more than a stain on their name. His parents had turned their backs on him the moment they found out what he was, cold and unforgiving. Lucifer had known nothing but pain, rejection, and loneliness—except when he was with Adam. Adam was the only warmth in his life. The only light in the darkness.

Why hadn’t he told him that? Why hadn’t he begged Adam to stay, to understand?

Lucifer clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as the self-hatred boiled inside him. He should have told him! Should have told Adam how much he needed him, how terrified he was of being alone again. But he hadn’t. He had kept his mouth shut, playing some ridiculous game of pretending he didn’t care, pretending that Adam’s happiness with Eve didn’t feel like knives twisting in his heart. And now it was too late.

He had ruined it all.

The bruise on his cheek, dark and aching, was proof enough that he would never be forgiven. Adam had hit him—Adam, who had never raised his voice in anger, who had always been gentle and kind. Lucifer had pushed him so far, driven him to a breaking point, and now... now there was no going back. That bruise was a mark of everything Lucifer had lost, everything he had destroyed with his own two hands.

Adam wasn’t just his best friend. He wasn’t just the one person who had stood by Lucifer when everyone else had turned away. Adam was his family. His only family. His only friend. The love of his life. The only person Lucifer had ever truly loved, the only person who had ever made him feel like he wasn’t broken, like he wasn’t something to be ashamed of. And now, because of Lucifer’s stupidity—because of his foolishness—he had lost him.

Lucifer had lost the only chance he had at true love. All because he had been too scared, too selfish to let Adam go when he needed to. He had tried to hold on too tightly, too desperately, and now the very thing he feared had come true. Adam had slipped away.

Lucifer sank to the floor, his body shaking with the force of his grief. He had thought—God, he had thought—his plan would work. That if he just waited long enough, if he stayed close enough, Adam would realize that it was Lucifer he was meant to be with. That no one else could ever love him the way Lucifer did. But it had all been a lie, hadn’t it? A pathetic fantasy he had clung to because the truth—that Adam would never love him back, that Adam would choose someone else—was too unbearable to face.

Lucifer pressed a trembling hand to his cheek, to the bruise that still throbbed with Adam’s anger, and his heart shattered all over again. He had wanted to fight for Adam. He had wanted to believe that love—his love—would be enough to bring them together in the end. But now, all that was left were the ruins of what could have been.

The silence around him felt suffocating, the loneliness unbearable. He had lost everything that mattered, and the worst part was... it was all his own fault.

[oh-no-another-idea]

Paris's-jacket-as-wings-stance-and-Velia-spiderman-meme-copying-him-WIP-jpg.

Invisible Girl art! Motivation! Woo! I know I just tagged you guys, so ignore me if you're busy, but I want to show you like a kid holding up a finger painting :D

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[doodle-pops]

A Love That Burns

Celegorm x reader

Request: I'M SO GLAD YOU OPENED THE REQUESTS NONNY!!!!!! You are an absolutely wonderful writer, I eat every one of your writing like the best steak ever🥺🥺 I live for angst, so👉👈 Can i request a fem!reader x celegorm or carantir? Reader is the human wife of one of our angry boys, and although she loves her husband very much, she still feels insecure in relationship with the elf because of societal prejudices(( And the boy is tired and doesn't want to deal with anything and the reader has been subjected to some taunts and tries to tell her beloved about it(( But doesn't have time and her elf snaps at her and they fight a lot... And this hothead forgets to control his stupid mouth and says he regrets marrying the reader((((( Of course he didn't mean it, but now he still has to deal with the consequences of his words and his lovely wife's low self-esteem(( Happy or unhappy ending, your choice! – anon

A/N: This was different from what you requested anon, and I’m terribly sorry. I do despise not writing what someone requested, however, I got lost in the writing because it was ANGST, a beloved theme of mine. I did try my best to stay on the part of the dispute and angst theme, but the reasons were entirely different from what you described. Apologies in advance, yet I hope you all enjoy it!

Warnings: heavy angst, breakup, dispute, mentions of Tyelko’s physical altercations, hurt/no comfort or happy ending

Words: 2k

Synopsis: You've decided after years of following the leader, to make your own stand and create a new path in your life.

As you stormed into the cosy room, the door slammed shut behind you, capturing the attention of your husband. He sat there, aloof and unperturbed, even though the anger coursing through your veins was impossible to miss. You shot him a fierce glance, and he casually raised a wine glass to his lips before turning his attention back to the dancing flames in the fireplace. Curiously, Huan, his loyal companion, was absent from the room this time, offering you a rare moment of solitude to confront the silver–haired, nonchalant elf.

With the room now yours alone, you felt liberated to unleash a torrent of fury and horror upon your husband. “You certainly left your mark today,” you seethed, your voice dripping with suppressed rage as you rifled through the closet, yanking clothes from drawers and shelves. Celegorm’s back remained turned, allowing you to carefully plan your approach without escalating the impending argument prematurely.

A scoff escaped his lips, followed by an eye roll and a leisurely yawn. It was a familiar scenario, one that played out every time he committed some outrageous act that grated on your sensibilities. Tonight was no exception. He seized the opportunity to make it a grand spectacle, leaving some unfortunate young elf languishing in a jail cell, beaten and bruised. While his actions might have warranted a more measured response, your husband was hardly one to concern himself with propriety when his adrenaline surged.

“I’ve always had a knack for leaving a lasting impression, my dear. It’s part of who I am; you ought to know that by now,” he retorted with a snide undertone. He exuded an air of regal charm and charisma as he spoke, seemingly immune to the consequences of his deeds, convinced that they were merely lessons in “respect” and “superiority.”

A surge of disgust welled up inside you as you shot a sidelong glance at him while continuing to stuff your clothes into his hunting bags. His utter lack of self–awareness and compassion left you bewildered. The Celegorm you had once known, a carefree, compassionate, and admittedly stubborn elf, seemed like a distant memory. Well, the stubborn part was still very much intact, but the night he had sworn that ominous oath had marked a turning point. It was as if you had witnessed the elf you once loved killed a part of himself, only to be reborn as a living nightmare. At times, you had even tried to convince yourself that this transformation was a necessary response to the darkness lurking in the world.

Day after day, night after night, you made promises and excuses for his behaviour. “He’ll change, he’ll change. This isn’t truly him,” you chanted to yourself after every heated confrontation. Yet, Celegorm had a knack for shattering your hope and turning it into a cruel mirage. You had lost all your friends, and any family who had wished to reach out had distanced themselves, fearing Tyelko would turn their presence into yet another issue. Jealousy had never been an issue before, nor had paper–thin insults. Things that could have been brushed off and ignored were now carefully nurtured by him, allowed to fester and destroy your life.

You were utterly alone, with even his presence feeling non–existent.

“It’s quite fascinating how your idea of making a lasting impression involves beating up those who dare to voice their whimsical comments. Must you inflict harm upon people for their veiled statements?” you snapped, unable to contain your thoughts any longer, your frustration with his demeanour finally bubbling over.

“Are you still dwelling on about that?” he retorted, irritation lacing his voice as he tightened his grip on the wine glass, causing a hairline crack to snake its way along its delicate surface.

Furious and fed up, you flung the clothes onto the ground, your anger and frustration boiling over. You spun around and shouted at him, “Yes, I am! And I won’t apologise if it bothers you, since you never bother to do the same for me!” Your inner turmoil had reached a breaking point, and you longed to shake some semblance of compassion into him. His obliviousness to the pain his thoughtless actions caused you only added more fuel to the fire. “All you ever do is harm people for senseless reasons and act as if no one should ever dare to criticise your actions!”

Growing tired of craning his neck and straining his ear to hear your grievances, he abandoned the sofa and turned to face you. He remained by the fireplace, enjoying the warmth it offered. He stared at you with his piercing forest green eyes, a silent warning that seemed to say, “Choose your words carefully.”

“No one has the right to speak about my family and our actions! They have no idea what we’re going through—”

“Well, I do, because I live it every day with you, and your methods of releasing your frustrations are unbearable!” You yelled in frustration, your voice rising in pitch. “I’ve tried to help you, and you’ve pushed me away, so now you resort to displaying your insecurities.”

“Insecurities?!” His right eye twitched, and he strode across the room to confront you, his fists clenched in frustration. His bewildered expression betrayed genuine hurt at your accusations, as if he couldn’t fathom you taking jabs at his struggles. It was a side of you he hadn’t expected; you had always been the compassionate and thoughtful one. “How is me defending you and my family from naysayers an act of insecurity?”

He shifted his weight to his left leg, his hips rolling in a display of astonishment. You locked eyes with him, your anger still burning as he threw a seemingly irrelevant question your way, acting as if he had no knowledge of the answer. He had witnessed your slow withdrawal from him and his circle, even from his family, but he seemed oblivious to anything beyond power, glory, and the oath. The Tyelko you once loved and grew with had faded away, and it wasn’t just the oath that had changed him; his true ambitions had rendered your presence obsolete, especially if this was the outcome of your arguments.

“Tyelko,” you began with an exasperated sob, “I’ve loved you for so many years, through thick and thin. I stood by your side even when your father was wrong, and I was foolish not to see it. I endured the silent suffering of Formenos, standing with you through your transformations. You think I wouldn’t recognize your insecurity? You only lash out when things don’t go your way to make yourself feel better.” Tears welled up in your eyes, and a few escaped, staining your clothes. Ignoring his judgmental gaze, you lowered your head to wipe your eyes and nose, sniffling as a mixture of tears and snot streamed down your face.

“That still doesn’t explain anything,” he snapped.

Casting him a look of disbelief, you realised that explaining this to him like he was a child was futile; he refused to see your perspective. “You’re becoming just like your father in the later years of his marriage, and I’m forced to walk in your mother’s footsteps. I have no friends left because of you; they’re terrified you’ll harm them if they speak up about my new life. I’m lonely, and you’re not listening. I take part of the blame for following you, but you...you’re tearing apart the rest of my life.”

“They’re not your friends if they’re worried about me making advances,” he retorted, his tone dripping with an air of self–righteousness, as if he had just uttered the wisdom of the ages. “But seriously, how am I ruining your life when I’m just clearing away obstacles?”

A surge of rage erupted within you, the lid of your patience finally blown off, and your words spilt out uncontrollably. “Because you never listen to me! You always believe what you’re doing is for the best, even when I’m clearly unhappy! I’m lonely because you drive everyone away; you don’t offer me the comfort and support you used to! You dismiss my concerns, telling me I’m complaining too much or that I’m a bother. You pick fights with anyone who disagrees with your family’s actions, and it terrifies people! I can’t go on like this anymore, and I’m exhausted!”

He stood there, silent and immobile in the doorway, his face contorting in a mix of confusion and disbelief. His expression seemed to ask, “What are you saying?” as he gingerly placed the wine glass on a nearby shelf in the closet. He opened his mouth to respond, but then hesitated, a deep frown furrowing his brow as he watched you spin around and begin gathering the clothes scattered on the floor, stuffing them into a bag. “W–What are you doing?” he stammered, his voice tinged with concern.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you groaned, forcefully shoving another set of clothes into the bag, your frustration evident. “I’m leaving. This life here isn’t for me.”

Your words hit him like a ton of bricks. Leave? You couldn’t be serious. Your home was with him, your lives were intertwined, and the idea of you leaving him was incomprehensible.

Stumbling forward in a state of shock, he cried out in anguish, “Y–You can’t leave me! We’re married, we have a bond, a life together! You can’t just abandon me! Tell me this is some kind of cruel joke, my love?” Your silence only fuelled his panic, pushing him toward hysterics. He knew that when you fell silent, it was a grave sign of your seriousness, and the waves of displeasure and dissatisfaction coursing through your bond were tearing him apart. He wanted to reach out and shake you, but he had no idea how you’d react.

“Y/N, please answer me, darling? I beg you, tell me you’re not leaving, that you’re just taking a break, perhaps some time away in the cabin?” His voice was filled with anguish and guilt, only now realising the gravity of your pleas as reality crashed down upon him.

You breathed heavily as you continued to gather your belongings, doing your best to avoid eye contact with his anguished performance. Where was this reaction when you first voiced your concerns? “I have every reason to leave, Your Highness. Removing myself from your presence is what I need, and I hope it brings me peace.”

“No! You can’t leave me. I—I love you! Can’t you see that? All those fights I got into defending you from insults and harm, it was because I love you! There was more to them than what meets the eye!” He pleaded with a heavy burden of guilt and regret, willing to get down on his knees if it meant you’d stay, but his pride seemed to hold him back.

Finally gathering all your belongings and slinging the bags over your shoulders, you didn’t bother changing into travel clothes. You’d do that later at a tavern along the way. As you moved toward the exit, Celegorm’s presence blocked your path. “I—…You have every right to be upset with me right now, and I know this, but… Give me a chance, just one chance to make things right! I can change.”

“Why didn’t you change before when you had the chance, instead of now?” He stood there, mouth agape, speechless. “I’ve had wonderful moments with you for most of my life, but these last few years have tarnished everything. And as much as I blame myself, you bear a share of responsibility. Now, step aside and let me leave in peace.” With that, you pushed past him, determined to embark on a new chapter of your life, leaving behind the turbulent past that had brought you to this point.

You didn’t spare him a glance, even though your heart ached with the weight of your decision. It was a wonder how his mother had managed to stand her ground and leave his father, but now you understood what separation felt like. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to leave your heart at the doorstep or cast it aside entirely. All you knew was that making the right decision for the betterment of your life was a painful, but necessary, choice. You only prayed that you would manage successfully on your own without crumbling to the floor.

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[midlandslady2]

Spoilerrrrsssss Alert!🚨

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So this thing with Daemon being a dreamer and the circulating theories of him becoming immortal after the battle of the God’s Eye, or him becoming a greenseer. I do not care. But I am concerned.

I mean, I was happy that he saw all that. I haven’t seen it but I think it will be quite an epic vision. But I don’t want him to become a dreamer per se. I wanted him to believe in the prophecy, yes. I wanted him to be more open minded to the fantastic world that is Westeros. But I don’t want him to become like Bran, you know? This stoic person that doesn’t really feel anything because he already knows how everything will happen and that he should not interfere because the things that have to pass will pass as it’s written. Heleana is this character. She wasn’t that sad about Jaehaerys’ death because she accepted that it was meant to happen. Daemon is not like that. We love Daemon because he is this unpredictable beast who feels as deeply as he rages. I don’t want his essence to ever change, I wanted his edges polished for the sake of his loved ones. But I want to see Daemon’s rage when Viserys and Aegon are captured. I want him to burn everything in his pain. I want Daemon being Daemon, like he was in season 1 episode 6, 7 and 8, when he was already older, calmer and softer, yet still capable to behead Vaemond in the blink of an eye. I think that’s my favorite version of Daemon (although I also love his younger years). I also don’t want him to go after Aemond in the God’s Eye because he knows that’s how it’s supposed to play out, knowing Rhaenyra will die later in such a horrible way but accepting it. It takes away from his sacrifice. I loved that in the book he goes to face Aemond to protect Rhaenyra, because Aemond is the last real threat to her (supposedly). I don’t want him to know that it’s not but going there anyway because it was foretold. Nop, I don’t like it. 🙂‍↔️

I also don’t like if he becomes immortal. Although I adore him, I want him to die there. 🫣

Now that I’ve heard about the whole picture, I feel slightly disappointed. Did Daemon really just accepted Rhaenyra because he saw it in the vision that she was meant to be queen? Or did Alys show him the vision because she knew he was ready to do the right thing? I do like that all this time Alys has been training him for that. I do enjoy that in a very weird way. Like she saw potential in him to be a good person but she had a lot of work to do before he got to that point. Hmm that I like. 🤔😌

Another odd thing. Last episode Oscar Tully made it abundantly clear that the army was for Rhaenyra and to Daemon as her representative. But in the leaked scene it seems the army would turn against Rhaenyra if Daemon said so because they were fiercely loyal to him. When did that happen? How did it happen? Am I the only one that got surprised? 🤔🤨

And finally … yes yes I know we cannot be greedy with how the season has been. But! I wanted a private scene with Daemon and Rhaenyra after the army scene. I wanted intimacy! To make up for lost time. I don’t want him to be best buddies or old colleagues, as Emma pointed out, I want them to be lovers! Passionate lovers! I want to erase the memory of Rhaenyra’s kiss with Mysaria and of Daemon’s scene with Alyssa. Because they are the main couple, yet we saw them with other people and we don’t see them having loving scenes together. Couldn’t they give us that?? I think not and we should be happy we got that “bend the knee” scene. But, as a fan of season 1, I needed to see passion. I needed to see how much they missed each other. 🤓😳

And now I’ll have to wait 2 years. Not knowing what evil schemes the writers will prepare for season 3. 😬