#he needs her he wants her but he still keeps her at a distance

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT2

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

PT1 PT3

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Angst - Protective!In-ho - Jung-Bae votes X because I say so -

Sleep came hard for you, after Gi-hun told the rest that players attacked each other last time, when the lights went off it only made you worried more.

It did not help that after the akward exchange In-ho decided to join the group, even if he used that time to also taunt Gi-hun (at least in your opinion), he gave you space and you mentally thanked him.

Jun-hee pierced him with a look only a woman could give, it was like she doubt him and also, she was sure he was in fact the father of your baby, which only made things worse.

During the night your bed shifted when another body took a seat, you moved quickly going to call for help but a hand covered your mouth.

The stoic look from In-ho met you in the dark, even if he was not putting a lot of pressure on your mouth. You did not like it.

You removed his hand and went to lie again, giving him your back but he was determined to talk to you.

"You dont need to talk to me, I just came to make sure you two were safe" He started, you could not see it but his eyes were full of adoration towards you and your belly. "I dont think others will attack us but I still needed to be besides you, if you let me"

You did not give him a response, letting your mind wonder over the dangers that could come, you felt him starting to move, most likely to go but your hand took his.

"Stay" After a small pause you added "Please"

And he was more than happy to oblige.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The morning came faster than what you wanted. The bed was uncomfortable to say the least, and most part of the night you were cold.

A centrain warm had woke you up but a quick "shh" made you go back to sleep.

You now noticed a extra blanket over you.

"(Y/N), how did you sleep?" Jun-hee asked, she looked like she needed more sleep.

"As best as someone can with this beds" You said knocking on the bed making her let out a small smile.

"Looks like someone is watching over you" She said pointing at the extra blanket.

You made a face at it but nodded, if it was better for the baby then you would allow it.

"We can share it tonight if you want" You offered her who smiled and bowed thanking you.

"Attention players, we will now start the next game. Form a line a follow one guard to the next area" The voice of a Guard filled the room making you nervous to see what was going to happen.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"This things does not get easier" You whispered to yourself as you claimed the maze of stairs, you had to admit the colors were cute but the energy you needed for them was not something you were looking to use.

What if it was another game with running ? You would need your energy for it. You could not waste it on these dam stairs.

In-ho had positioned himself in front on you and would look back to make sure you were following.

"You can use my shoulder if you need help" He said stopping and almost making Dae-ho hit your back, but he was keeping a distance in case you needed to rest.

"Im fine" You said between hard breaths going to walk again on your own only to feel In-ho's hands around you, making you lean on him so you would use less energy and tired yourself less.

"I dont remember you being such a complicated woman" He whispered to you, making sure no one could listen.

"Well I dont expect you to remember most, we were drunk when we left.."

But In-ho moved his head with a small smile "Trust me, I remember most of it. Our conversation at the bar and the events after we left. I havent been able to stop thinking of these"

A shiver ran down your spine but you ignored it.

"Well I dont believe you, tell me something specific i said that night" You kind of demanded him

"You said how you loved the town, loved seeing the same faces, there was a older woman who lived two blocks from you. She would gift you milk and eggs. You liked seeing the kids play after school and would even take care of some when their parents had to leave for work. You loved that town"

You got quiet, it was true. You had said that, and it was true, you did love the town and its peopel, thats why you had to leave, to protect them.

"Alright, I will admit im impressed" You responded leaving out a small smile "You do have good memory" You noted

"For you ? Yes, yes I do"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"The next game will be a race of six-legs, players please form teams of five, since we have a odd number one team will have six players in it"

The voice announced

"Could they dont think on doing a different game?" Jung-Bae asked the rest of you "I mean, no hard feelings but would it not be more complicated with one more?"

Gi-hun not so discreetly gave him a hit on his side "Shut up we are six" He said and Jung-Bae blushed in shame. 

"Sorry! I did not mean to say it like that"

"Its fine" In-ho said calming him down "We get it, it may be difficult but we can do it, we have our ex winner with us"

Gi-hun scratched his hair "We did not play this last time, im as lost as all of you" He admitted

"Wow must suck to be you!" The voice of player made all of you look, Player 009 a young male said "Not only are you six but you also have two pregnant woman, talk about bad luck. With the six of you out the price will go up in no time. Well if they count the babys then maybe even more"

Out of instinct your hand went over your belly and the other took the hand of Jun-hee who looked as scared as you.

In-ho took some calculated steps towards the player who seemed to get pale when he finally undertood who he was, the same guy who had break a fight last night with no sweat.

"Hey, why dont you lose yourself like a small rat? And im being unfair to rats to compare them to you" He said tone cold and out of emotion.

The player lost himself in the crowd not wanting to face In-ho.

Butterflies flew in your stomach at his words, even if he was not defending you directly, his protective side made you blush and almost smile.

Almost. You had to supress it since Jun-hee was looking at you like she knew something.

"Well, we should see how we will line ourselfs" Gi-hun said making all of you form a circle, "(Y/N) and Jun-hee will need help so-"

"I can walk fine" Jun-hee interrumped him "I can go in one of the corners, (Y/N) will need more help"

Gi-hun nodded at her "Then, you, Jung-Bae will be next, Dae-ho, (Y/N), In-ho and myself" He ended watching all of you "Does it sound good to everybody"

Before you could protest the voice spooke again

"We will be playing a race of six legs, in order to advance you must complete the following games within five minutes and cross the line. If you dont you will be eliminated"

"Games...what games" You asked to no one as the voice went on

"The games you must complete are ddakji, biseokchigi, gong-gi, jegi, and spinning top, please choose among yourself who will play which game"

"Wait, that means one of us wont have to play" Dae-ho pointed out and all nodded.

"(Y/N) You should stay out of the mini games and focus on following the rest of us" Gi-hun suggested looking at you.

You bited your lower lip, you felt like a burden to them, no only being a extra player but also not being able to play with them.

"No, I can play. If there is a game any of you feel less confident in..."

"I agree with Gi-hun" In-ho interrumped you. "It was difficult for you to claim the stairs, its better if you focus on one thing at time"

"No, that was a bad moment, I can-"

"I also agree" Dae-ho cut you off "I have sisters and saw them pregnant before, its better if you dont move to much or stress"

"Jun-hee its pregnant too and I dont see any of you worried" You said almost screaming

"(Y/N) im less pregnant than you...and I saw it too. You had problems with the stairs, dont worry over me, I can do it"

"Think in your baby" In-ho whispered "Think in our baby" He added in a lowered tone.

"Fine, thanks for your help guys" You said truly grateful.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The first two teams did not make it

You closed your eyes refusing to look at the dead bodies.

The first team that made it had all of you screaming for them, you even hugged In-ho without noticing.

However he did and hugged you with subtle force, using that chance to touch your belly on its side.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Remember, focus on breathing and follow us, you can do it" In-ho said to you as your team and other one were the last two to play

"If you need to rest just support yourself on me or In-ho" Dae-ho added giving you a encouraging smile.

And like that the race started.

Jun-hee won easily the ddakji, Jung-Bae nailed it hitting the rock on first try.

When it came to Dae-ho's turn all of them made sure that both you and Jun-hee moved onto the floor slowly.

Your heart was beating fast as you saw Dae'ho play, even if this game was one girls used to play you were never good with it. In fact no one of your young friends used to be.

So your suprise was big and more was your happiness as you saw him complete it on first try.

The six of you advanced, the guard went to give you the spinning top but In-ho took it instead. You swear you saw the guard flinch under his dark stare.

Everybody was hyping him, even you, after all you all got three games in a row nothing could-

And he failed. All of you moved so he could do it again.

Only to trow it towards yours back.

After getting it back he started to have an episode, no wonder feeling nervous because of how much time he was making all of you lose.

"Hey! IN-HO!! Calm down just breath, try with your other hand, we still have time" You said pulling him towards you.

Something flicker in his eyes but you could not understand what it was.

He did as you told him and finally he passed.

The last game was in the hands (or feets) of Gi-hun who almost loses but In-ho's quick thinking saved all of you making your team pass and cross the line.

The celebration was short lived as gunshots were hear, the other team did not make it.

"Its ok, you two are safe" In-ho whispered to you once more before a guard started to take all of you back.

However the place seemed...different ? And by different you mean almost no stairs, did the guards suddendly get a heart ? You would not question it, like you Jun-hee was grateful and smiled at you once you two made it into the room.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Cant believe these survived" 009 said with a frown not beliving it.

If the price had a chance on going up it was with the dead of either you or Jun-hee.

"Congratulations on winning this game, we will now calculate the price and proceed on voting"

"I hope we win this time" You told Jun-hee who nodded alongside you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"We should use the restroom now that we have a chance" You told Jun-hee who accepted and so both of you left your male companions who themselfs went to their own restroom.

"I cant believe we lost again" You said hitting the door of the stall getting some looks from other circle players but no one said a thing. Maybe they pity you because of your pregnancy but not enough to end the dam games.

"Dont stress too much" Jun-hee tried to comfort you even if herself was scared.

You took some deep breaths to try and calm yourself down, thinking in your baby.

I can do it. I can play again, I must play again.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The six of you reunited once again waiting for the terrible food the guards would most likely give.

"Hey Dae-ho, how were you able to win on first try?" Jung-Bae asked trying to ease the tension since all of you had bothed X

"Well, as I said I grow up with four sisters. And they would play it all the time so I ended up learning a few tricks" He commented

The small talk went towards different topics, nothing too personal just something to pass the time.

You were between Jun-hee and In-ho who had sit closer to you but you did not mind and even invited him to move closer.

"I wish the food its not as bad as the one from last night" You said getting a groan from Jung-Bae

"I miss my meat, I would kill for one piece of well coked meat" When all of you just looked at him he muttered "Sorry bad wording"

"I would love some cake, maybe chocolate cake and...popcorn" You said rubbing your belly

"Its that what they call cravings?" Jung-Bae asked, even if his ex wife was once pregnant he did not really remember much of her time with it.

"Yeah, this is not the worse one" You laughted making In-ho softly smile besides you.

"What was the worse one?" Dae-ho asked curious

"One night at 2 a.m. I woke up crying, I asked my roomate to get me squid and ice cream, she went to the store bless her heart but then I asked her if she could mix it all"

The horror from their faces was priceless.

"I havent had any weird craving" Jun-hee said smiling at your story "They better start once we are out of here"

"Your roomate sounds like a good person" In-ho commented, he was glad you had someone to rely on while he was away and did not know about your pregnancy, he would have loved to be the one to get waked up by you to make him go and buy you different types of food.

"She was" You agreed "She saw me having a hard time and offered me a place to stay so we could divide rent. Thanks to her I was able to get better food. Saddly she had to leave Seoul because her sister needed her"

In-ho was now confused. Seoul? What were you doing in Seoul? Were you not a local in that town? Why did you move? Even when you knew you were pregnant?

He had so many questions but would have to wait till a better moment.

"Players, we will now start serving dinner" A guard say, all of the players went to get in line.

As you waited In-ho stood behind you and used that time to talk to you

"Why were you in Seoul?" He asked confused and worried.

You turned a bit towards him, not wanting everybody to hear your talk "My brother left a debt, escaped the country, and since im the only blood relative alive it fell on me" You explained him. "I would have loved to raise my kid in that town, but the load sharks did track me down and said they would made the town suffer if I did not make monthly pays. I could not put them in danger so I left"

In-ho was furious, not only were you forced to face such a hard time alone. Your excuse of a brother left a debt on you, not caring what your situation was.

You must have been so scared, sad, no women deserves to go by a special time like pregnancy like that.

He was also furious with himself. He should have acted faster and track you down, he would have know sooner you were pregnant and would have make things different. He would have payed that debt, making sure you were well assisted and not lifting a finger, only resting like you deserved.

The guilt was eating him alive.

"Im sorry, I should have been there" He said and for once in the two days that had passed his voice was full of sincerity and vulnerability "Im really sorry (Y/N) you should not have to go by that"

You did not say a thing back, trying to stop the tears that wanted to fall.

"I managed, and its not your fault. I was angry at your for sometime but then I just stopped being angry. It was bad luck"

"It was also back luck that you got yourself pregnant?" He asked now a bit worried about what you thought of it.

You stopped and turned completly to face him.

"No. That was not bad luck at all. Yeah I would have loved to have someone besides me...to have you with me" His heart fell at your words, his mind racing with ideas on how to protect you in the next game "But it was never something bad, I love this baby, I want it to be healthy and to live a good life"

"I will be with you from now on, I promise I wont go anywhere" He said taking your hand in his in a silent promise

"Next" The guard called making you let go of his hand and take the food the guard was giving, before you could go the guard stopped you and gave you a small plastic bag with pills.

You took it not sure what it was.

As you walked towards the group you read it "Vitamins for pregnancy" You almost fell in suprise and walked a bit quicker towards the group but more specific towards Jun-hee who seemed go be waiting for you.

"(Y/N) Did they..." she trailed off showing you the same bag of pills

"Yeah. Do you think they had a change in heart?" You asked taking a seat besides her.

"I dont know but I wont question it" She said opening the cartoon milk and swallowing the pills. You did the same starting to feel better.

"(Y/N), Jun-hee you two can have my milk" Jung-Bae said almost forcing you to take it.

"But-"

"You two can also have mine" In-ho said appearing and giving you his own "Like that you two will have enough energy and your babys will be healthy"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

It was almost time for the lights to go off once again. Jun-hee and You shared a bed in order to share the blankets, the other four insisted that you two rested and that they would keep watch.

When Gi-hun woke up In-ho to take turn he would take some times to glance at you. His heart softening at the sight of your sleepy face and your belly under the blankets.

How much did he want to have you back in his room, in a most comfortable bed. He would have to leave you during the day but would return to cuddle you in the night. Would talk to your belly saying to it just how proud he was, and how happy its existence made him. He wanted to pull his ear against it, try to listen to it or feel it kick.

Soon, he would make sure you survived the next game and will get you out of the games.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Tags:

@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart

Blue = I could not tag you 😞

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc (4/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : as charles fights for his life, his wife faces the hardest decision: let go or fight for him. a small miracle gives hope for recovery.

୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, angst, fluff ୨ৎ : tws : injury, surgery, medical trauma, emotional distress, guilt, near-death experience, physical pain, anxiety ୨ৎ : wc : 2402

part one | part two | part three | part four

Love is funny, isn’t it? You think you have it all figured out, and then one day, you realize that the love you thought would always be there can sometimes fade into the background. But it doesn’t just fade. No, it burns out, slow and steady, like an ember that’s been left too long. That’s the worst kind of loss—the one you didn’t see coming, the one that happens while you’re still holding on, telling yourself everything will be okay.

You remember when you and Charles first fell in love. The world felt like it was yours, and nothing could get in the way of the connection you had. The world around you blurred into the background, and it was just the two of you. You’d laugh together, make silly promises to each other, the kind of promises that felt forever, like they couldn’t possibly be broken. And in your mind, you believed it. You believed you’d grow old together, that no argument could ever pull you apart. But life has a funny way of surprising you.

The love you shared in the beginning was so full of light. It was easy. It was simple. And somewhere along the way, somewhere between the late-night talks and the quiet moments, you lost that. The arguments crept in. At first, they were small, just misunderstandings, but they grew, louder and sharper, until they couldn’t be ignored anymore. The more Charles drowned himself in the racing world, the more you felt yourself slipping away. But neither of you stopped to listen to what the other needed.

You can’t help but wonder now: If you hadn’t argued so much, if you hadn’t allowed that distance to grow between you, would he be lying in this hospital bed today? Would he still be fighting for his life? Maybe. But then again, maybe not. The thought makes your chest ache with a weight you can’t shake off. You want to believe that everything could have been different, but you don’t know for sure.

---

The steady beep of the monitors is the only thing that keeps you tethered to the present. Charles’s vitals have stabilized since the crash, and you try not to let yourself hope too much, but each small sign of improvement sends a rush of relief through you. You hold onto that hope, even though you know it might be foolish. Every small movement, every little shift in his breathing—each one feels like a promise. A promise that he’s still here.

Pascale’s footsteps break your train of thought. She steps into the room, her face tired, but there’s a quiet strength in her eyes.

“You’re doing everything you can,” she says, her voice gentle, like she’s trying to reassure you that you’re not alone in this. “You’re not to blame for this. The sport… it’s dangerous. We all know that. But Charles loves you. And this—it’s not your fault.”

You swallow hard, your heart heavy with the weight of her words. But they don’t sink in, not completely. You can’t stop the guilt that keeps clawing at your chest. You can’t help but wonder, what if you could have done more? What if you had said something different, done something different? Would he still be here, conscious and fighting? Or would this still be his reality?

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” you admit quietly, your voice shaky, betraying the calm you try to maintain. “I don’t know how to make it right.”

She takes a step closer, her hand finding yours. “You don’t have to,” she says, her tone firm but soft. “Just be there for him. That’s what he needs right now. And when he wakes up… when he’s ready, you’ll figure it out together.”

You nod, not sure if you believe her. But you hold onto her words like a lifeline. Maybe, just maybe, she’s right. But it doesn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful.

---

Hours stretch into what feels like an eternity. The doctors come and go, each update a little less hopeful than the last. Charles is still critical. There’s no telling when he’ll wake up, if he wakes up. And the waiting—waiting without knowing what’s happening to him, if he’s improving or slipping away—feels unbearable.

And then, without warning, his heart rate drops.

The machines beep with a harsh, frantic sound, and the room erupts into chaos. Your body freezes, the air thick with panic. Nurses rush to his side, hands moving quickly, calling out to each other in a language you can’t fully comprehend. You stand there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do. Your mind spins with fear and confusion, and all you can think about is the man lying in front of you, fighting to stay alive.

Charles’s heart rate flatlines.

A scream gets caught in your throat, but it doesn’t escape. You don’t have the strength to let it out. The world feels like it’s spinning, like you’re stuck in a nightmare you can’t wake from. You watch as they work on him—CPR, chest compressions, defibrillation—but none of it seems to matter. It doesn’t feel real. He’s supposed to be okay. He’s supposed to wake up.

But then, just as suddenly as it started, the doctors manage to stabilize him again. His heart rate picks up slowly, steadily, until it’s just enough for you to breathe again.

The doctors exchange glances, unsure how to explain the sudden shift. They weren’t expecting this. They were preparing to pull the plug. Now, it seems he’s fighting back.

But the fear doesn’t dissipate completely. It lingers in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. There’s no telling if this is the end of the battle or just another moment of temporary reprieve. All you can do is wait.

---

Time passes, but it feels like you’re standing still. Charles’s breathing evens out. The monitors beep at a normal rhythm now, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a glimmer of hope.

And then, as though your prayers have been answered, you hear it. A soft groan. His hand twitches in yours.

“Charles?” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

His eyelids flutter, and slowly, his eyes open. The confusion is evident in them. His brow furrows, trying to process everything.

“Y/n?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you can hear the recognition in it. The relief that floods through you makes it hard to breathe. You’re shaking, but you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face.

“Oh my God. Charles… you’re awake.”

His eyes flutter again, blinking as he adjusts to the light. He tries to speak, but it’s a struggle. “What… happened?”

“You were in a crash,” you explain, your heart racing. “But you’re awake. You’re okay. You’re breathing on your own.”

His hand tightens around yours, a weak but determined grip. He doesn’t have to say anything else. You know he’s here. He’s alive. That’s all that matters.

You lean in closer, your voice soft but firm. “You don’t need to say anything right now. Just rest. You’ve been through enough.”

His eyes close again, exhaustion taking over. But this time, it’s different. He’s not slipping away. He’s fighting. And that’s enough for you.

---

It’s been a few days since Charles woke up. His recovery is slow, but every step forward is a victory. The doctors are cautiously optimistic, and his vitals are improving steadily. He’s no longer on a ventilator, and they’ve managed to reduce the pain medications, though he still winces at the sharp pangs in his body when he moves. His face is pale, his body thin, but his eyes—they’re alive. They’re still the same Charles you love.

His hand rests weakly in yours as he shifts in the hospital bed, a small groan escaping his lips. You watch him carefully, knowing he’s still in pain but feeling so much relief that he’s here, breathing, talking, and slowly getting better. It’s surreal how much has changed in just a few days.

You gently press a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering longer than you expect.

“Still hurts?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Everything hurts,” he replies, his voice hoarse from the tubes and the strain, but it’s unmistakably Charles—weak but teasing. “But I’ll live.”

You chuckle, even though your heart still feels heavy with all that’s happened. “You better. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His hand tightens around yours, and for a moment, there’s silence between you two, the hum of machines and the quiet shuffle of footsteps in the hall the only sounds filling the room.

The door opens softly, and Pascale enters, her eyes lighting up when she sees Charles awake.

“You’re really here,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe it.”

“I told you,” he mutters, a weak but determined smile crossing his face. “I don’t give up that easily.”

She chuckles, her relief palpable. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

The doctor enters next, checking his vitals and making small talk about his progress. But after a few minutes, you sense that everyone is trying to give you two some space. You appreciate it more than you can say. You need a moment alone with him, just the two of you.

“Can we talk?” Charles asks suddenly, his voice quieter, the weight of everything pressing down on him. His gaze locks with yours, and you nod.

Once the room clears, you move closer to him, pulling a chair up beside his bed and sitting down, your hand never leaving his.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, his voice soft but full of emotion. “More than I ever thought possible. I was… so afraid. I didn’t know if I’d get another chance.”

Your heart catches at his words, and you squeeze his hand tighter. “You’re here. That’s all that matters now.”

“I know I messed up, Y/n,” he says, his voice trembling slightly as he continues. “The arguments, the distance between us… I didn’t know how to fix it, but I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve done better for us.”

You shake your head, leaning closer to him. “We both messed up. I pushed you away. I let my own fears and doubts take over, and we let the distance grow between us. But we don’t need to dwell on that now. What matters is we have a chance to rebuild. We can start again.”

Charles’ eyes soften as he looks at you. He lifts his free hand and brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers are weak, but his touch is gentle, so tender it makes your heart swell.

“I don’t want to waste another moment,” he whispers. “I want to make it right. For us. I want to give you everything I have. I want us to be… forever.”

You feel a rush of warmth in your chest at his words, and you can’t hold back the tears that sting your eyes. “Charles… I love you. I always have. No matter what happened before, it’s in the past now. We’ll get through this together. We’ll be better.”

He nods, his smile growing as much as his weakened body allows. “Forever,” he repeats, his voice firm. “You and me.”

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his gently, the kiss soft and full of promise. You feel the heat of his lips against yours, the lingering taste of the past and the hope for the future mixing together. It’s everything you need. Everything you’ve always wanted.

After the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, the moment feeling peaceful, intimate, like the world has slowed down just for the two of you.

"I promise I’m never going to leave you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.

“I know,” you whisper back. “And I won’t leave you either. We’re in this together. Forever.”

His breath catches, and you can see how tired he is. His eyes start to close, his body relaxing into the bed. You’re thankful for this moment—this quiet moment of peace between the chaos. It’s all you need for now. His grip tightens one last time around your hand before he drifts off, his breathing steady, but shallow.

As you watch him sleep, your heart swells. There’s so much to be thankful for now. He’s here. He’s alive. And even though he’s still in pain, the fact that he’s awake and breathing on his own, that he can talk and even smile, fills you with a sense of relief you can’t describe.

Time may not have stopped, but you feel like it’s been kind to you in the small ways. And in this moment, with Charles beside you, you’re ready to take on the future. The fights, the love, the challenges—they’re all worth it. Because at the end of the day, it’s you and him. Together.

---

As the days continue, Charles slowly gets stronger. The pain from the crash is still there, but it’s manageable. He’s talking more, eating small meals, and regaining some mobility. He even laughs now and then, the sound a balm to your weary soul.

It’s slow, but progress is progress, and with each passing day, your connection with him grows stronger. The weight of the past seems lighter, and you find yourselves rebuilding, piece by piece, finding new ways to love each other.

You’re not sure what the future holds, but for the first time in a long time, you know you’ll face it together. Whatever happens, you’ve found something worth fighting for.

---

A few weeks later, Charles is finally cleared for a short walk around the hospital floor. It’s a small victory, but it feels huge to both of you. He’s still weak, but he’s standing, with you by his side, helping him steady himself.

“You’ve come so far,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

Charles smiles at you, the kind of smile that makes you feel like you could conquer anything. “I’m not done yet. I still have a lot of living to do. And I want to do it with you.”

You nod, feeling your heart swell as you walk beside him, hand in hand. This journey isn’t over. It’s only just begun.

But for now, you’re both here. You’re together. And that’s enough.

Forever.

taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , @ayap4paya , @prttylight , @meadhbhcavanagh , @iluvnewtie , @hiireadstuff , @armystay89 , @anunstablefangirl , @waytoooobsessedwithlife , @larya810 , @laufeysvalentine (tags closed, story complete)

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[affableramen]

hiii i love ur writing and i have a request. what do u think pantalone would do if reader got a vision? tysm!!!!!

Hi, thanks so much

Actually it is a very complicated situation both in terms of emotions and future interaction of the characters. I think there could be 2 possible scenarios of how this case could develop:

The reader is hiding existence of her Vision for a long time, wanting Pantalone to feel closer and more similar to her in terms of being a loser, unsuccessful and not chosen. Yet she ends up getting a Vision after all.

Potentially it would mean that she is lying to him and sooner or later he will find out about it, as we all know Pantalone is a pure character of wisdom, there is nothing to slip off his fingers. In this case he would call her privately to his office and plan the discussion with cold mindset. He would even make his own lines in his head to not appear agitated (he is very agitated and shaky, but because it is also Pantalone we may not even see it – he is a good example of artless subtlety).

The reason for you to hide your Vision from him is because you would like to make him feel safe and protected, knowing that you are just as desparate and lonely as him. Around you there is a bunch of ‘heroes’, Vision users which make Pantalone most definitely feel like a black sheep. Knowing that you obtained no Vision he found himself comfortable, given the feeling ‘Yes, she is just like me’. After a while this however vanishes, once he learns you actually possess one. He cannot be mad at you, because he realises it is your responsibility to wield one, but he cannot deny how infuriated he becomes because of your lies. In this case I think he needs time and the best you can do for him is just leave him alone for a while before he cools off. He will, for sure, have a long ass conversation with you about why you’d keep it secret from him. In this case you just calmly explain him the situation that you wanted for him to feel better and you to not be the one priveleged.

However if acquiring the Vision was a recent achievement for you and Pantalone discovers it in the real time, he will be extremely shaken as the situation happens right in front of his eyes, and he is the spectator. When it is something that happened before you knew him, it is more likely acceptable for him because he does not hold power over your achievement, however if you get one during a relationship (or simply encounter, let’s imagine the two of you are not necessarily lovers) it will be difficult for him because it is something he could not control.

***

Pantalone was sitting in his headquarters, his hand gripped the glass of whiskey when he called you in. The guards carefully led the way to his private office and shut the door tightly, making room for you and Regrator to have a private conversation.

His fingers gripping the glass were shaking slightly which was definitely ironic, considering how usually composed he was, in front of you included.

As the door was closed you slowly approached his desk but stopped at a reasonable distance as you sensed the cold atmosphere between you two. It felt like Pantalone was not ready at all to let you in closer.

“You got a Vision”, he didn't ask you, rather stated a fact. A fact that raised both panic and frustration in you as you understand how it might affect the relationship between you two.

In all his hundreds of years he never got one, but you received it just in your twenties. His blood must have been boiling.

“I got it just recently.”

His playing with the whiskey glass stopped and he looked at you. The lights reflected the metal of his silver glasses which would only add coolness to the already icy room.

“How did you get it?”

That was the question you feared the most. Yet he already asked you in, and you had no point in lying and keeping things to yourself. You were not currently on good terms exactly and suffered quite an argument however Pantalone still treated you as a valuable asset, with a possible development of you into his official lover. Or at least that’s what you wanted to believe in. You wanted to feel as someone important to him, and it wasn't entirely stupid. It’s just that it was above his icy-cold rationality.

“Actually, after I fought you”, you responded quietly, your voice suddenly breaking, no matter how anxious you were, you felt as if you had to. “I got my Vision after I fought you.”

Pantalone scoffed,

“Wonderful. Amazing. You got what you wanted, didn't you?”

“I do not understand you.”

Pantalone shifted in his seat and finally stood up, he approached you with solid steps.

“Wasn’t it your dream – defeating me? I thought you would feast upon my sufferings. But you seem reluctant to it. What, cat got your tongue?” he would continue mocking you, his face inches away from yours, but his eyes were glassy once he opened them, as if he were crying all night like a teenager after being bullied at school.

“You know it is not like this. I dreamt of Vision, but when I met you, I promised I wouldn’t be seduced by its power.”

“Yes, that’s what you promised. And look at yourself now”, circling over you languidly, Pantalone used an excruciatingly degrading tone. “Now you’re chosen. You’re a hero. And what heroes do? They defeat villains. And that’s exactly what you did.”

“I never wanted this”, you tried to convey some thoughts into his head, to soothe him, but Pantalone immediately became blind to all your opinions. ���It is not my fault that the Vision appeared to me. I didn't force it to come.”

“You want me to believe in this bullshit? You used me like a piece of meat to only leave me in shambles and get your little artifact. And now I am nothing in your eyes except for a villainous Harbinger.”

His words hurt and you could not deny it. Your hand softly grazed his fingers, not inviting into a intimate contact but making it enought for him to have shivers down his spine.

“Your tongue is spilling poison, as always, but weren't you mad now, you would never say such things to me. You just need to cool down.” With those, you exited his office, leaving him completely alone with his dark thoughts. But the way you touched his hand was so warm and gentle, he felt as if he needed more of those, and his conflicting thoughts were messing around his mind. He was weaker than this, he wanted you back immediately.

“I did not allow you to leave my office yet”, he spat. “Come back.

You’d ignore him and decisively leave without looking bad knowing that it would be better for him.

“I said come back here you idiot!” He’d scream and run after you, but it was late and made no sense. He fell to his knees, both his traumatic experience and alcohol taking a toll on him. Weak in his legs, he silently started sobbing, his head hanging down as he found himself completely shattered and unable to hold back tears. How could a mere mortal obtain a Vision while he was the one waiting for it for almost 400 years? This is unfair! How is he worse than anyone? How is yourself better than him? Where did he make a mistake? Why is he such a failure? Is he a joke, a mistake of this world?

You thought that once he’d be tranquil again, you’d visit him and make amends, but currently all he could do was accuse you of something you weren't guilty of. However, once the quiet sobs reached out to your ears, you made your way back from the staircase to his office. Upon entering the lavish, elegant decorum of his headquarters you see a not so elegant man sitting on the floor like a pathetic mess. The sight was nothing you would ever expect from him and if such a rational and reserved man acted this way, it would only mean the pain was insufferable. It is stupid, you thought, but you got nothing to lose, as you kneeled down to him and took his hands in yours, the cold leather of his gloves rubbing against your hands as you embraced him, trying to share the heat with his shaking body. And he let you do this, surrendering himself to you as he realised all you ever did for him was caring, not taking. And he had no right to accuse you of obtaining a Vision, no matter how hard it was to his chest.

[mofongomuncher]

𝙃𝙚𝙧 (PT 2)

(Ekko X Reader)

❥ cast : ! Ekko and Reader ¡

The days following their argument were long, stretching into what felt like an eternity. Y/N tried to keep her distance, give him time to breathe, but every moment apart only deepened the chasm between them. It wasn’t just Ekko anymore—it was.

It was jinx

Every time she thought about her, Y/N could feel her blood boil, could feel the growing resentment bubbling beneath her skin. It wasn't rational, she knew that. Ekko had said it himself—Jinx wasn't the same person she once was, that she wasn't even the same person anymore.

But it didn't matter. The truth was, Y/N was starting to hate her. She hated the way Jinx still haunted Ekko, the way she lingered in his every thought, in every word he spoke.

She wasn't stupid. She had seen the way Ekko's face softened whenever Jinx was mentioned, the way his voice trembled with guilt and regret. She could feel it—a constant reminder that he wasn't fully hers. Not while Jinx was still there, buried deep inside his heart.

Y/N didn't even want to think about what they had gone through. The loss, the violence, the twisted game Jinx had played on that ship. Every time she closed her eyes, the memory of the Firelights' death toll flashed before her—the way Jinx had obliterated their lives, the way Ekko had carried the weight of that destruction like a curse.

And he had the nerve to say those things to her.

To attack her and not Jinx.

The resentment festered, a dark seed growing in her chest. It twisted the memories of Ekko's smile, his touch, and his promises, turning them into something bitter. Y/N had given so much of herself to him, only to feel like she was always going to be second place. Everything was a lie.

All of it.

The voices that once whispered assurances now screamed in fury.

Why wasn't she enough?

Y/N walked the streets of Zaun, the lights from the neon signs flickering and buzzing around her. The night air felt cold against her skin, her steps were heavy, like each movement took more energy than the last.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to break something, anything, just to feel something other than the ache that seemed to consume her. But all she could do was walk, lost in her own thoughts, drifting through the world without really being a part of it.

The Last Drop was always there when she needed it. The familiar clink of glasses, the low hum of conversation, the smoky air—it all felt like a distant memory of better times, of times when she could forget about the weight of her world.

She wasn't there for fun. She wasn't there to be social. She was there because she needed to disappear, even for just a little while.

She pushed through the door, the warmth of the bar greeting her, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The usual faces were scattered around the dimly lit room...But.

Her eyes immediately landed on the corner booth. There was a man sitting there, Sipping a drink, his posture stiff, his face drawn in frustration. He didn't belong to the usual crowd of drunks and gamblers that populated the bar. There was something different about him—something that made her pause for a second.

She could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his fingers gripped his glass as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded. She didn't know why, but she felt...drawn to him.

With a deep breath, Y/N made her way to the bar, ordering something strong to quiet the storm inside her. But she couldn't stop glancing toward the man in the corner. His energy was familiar in some way, she wasn't sure what possessed her, but she found herself walking over to his booth—taking the seat across from him without asking.

He didn't even look up when she sat down, his gaze fixated on the swirling liquid in his glass.

"You look like you're carrying the weight of the world huh..." Y/N said, her eyes studying him carefully.

The man's eyes flickered briefly toward her before he sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand. "Maybe I am.." he muttered, his voice. "Isn't that how it goes though? You give everything, and it's just...still not enough."

Y/N tilted her head, her heart skipping a beat all of sudden. She had never met this man, but those words hit her like a punch to the gut.

She swallowed hard, fighting the wave of emotion threatening to overtake her. "Ye—yeah..." she replied softly. "You do everything you can for someone, and you still end up feeling like you were never really part of their life. Like they were just passing time until something better came along."

The man turned his gaze toward her then, studying her face with a strange mix of curiosity and recognition. "Sounds like you know exactly what I'm talking about, huh..." he said, his voice softer now, the walls around him crumbling just a little bit.

Y/N forced a small, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well... I guess I know the feeling all too well. Thought I was helping someone, thought I was worth something to them. Turns out, I was just the backup. The second choice."

The man's eyes softened, and for a moment, Y/N could see the pain in them, the weariness that matched her own. He leaned back in his seat, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass, lost in thought.

"You ever wonder if you're the one who's wrong? Like...maybe you're the one who's been selfish this whole time, thinking you were the one who should be chosen?"

Y/N stiffened at the question. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean...." he continued, his gaze steady on her, "....maybe they had their reasons. Maybe you weren't the one they were supposed to be with. Maybe they had their own battles, their own reasons for making the choices they did."

Y/N clenched her jaw, the anger rising again.

"It doesn't matter. They chose someone else, and that's all that matters. I gave everything to them, and that still wasn't enough."

The man studied her carefully, his brow furrowed. "You're angry because you didn't get what you wanted....But sometimes, what you want isn't the best thing for you. Sometimes, letting go...is the only thing that can set you free."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a truth in them—one that was hard to face, but so impossible to ignore. She had been so consumed with wanting Ekko, with trying to prove that she was the one who mattered, that she hadn't stopped to think about what was best for her.

"Maybe..." she muttered, her voice distant now, lost in the realization. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I need to let go."

The man offered her a small, understanding smile. "I know It's never easy, but sometimes...holding on to something that's already gone only makes it harder to move forward. You can't keep fighting for someone who's not fighting for you."

Y/N looked down at her drink, the truth settling heavily in her chest. She didn't want to admit it, but she knew.

he was right.

"Guess we're both just in the same boat right now huh?" she said, her voice softer now.

He chuckled, a quiet, dry laugh."Yeah. I guess we are."

For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. A shared pain, a shared loss, and perhaps, a glimmer of hope that they might both find a way to heal. The quiet was heavy, yet somehow comfortable, as though their presence alone was enough to ease the weight of the world for just a while.

The man sitting across from her had a quiet kind of beauty, the kind that spoke of sadness but also strength. His face was striking, with chiseled features that seemed sculpted by time and hardship. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and full lips that had a softness to them, as if the weight of the world hadn't completely hardened him. His dark brown eyes held so much depth, a sadness that she could relate to, yet there was a quiet warmth in them, as though he carried his own story and understood hers without needing to ask.

His skin, a rich hue of warm caramel, seemed to glow faintly under the dim light of the room, and his hair was dark and unruly, falling just above his eyebrows in waves. There was something about him—something raw and real—that made it impossible to look away.

"You know." he said quietly, looking at her with those intense eyes. "Healing... healing is possible." His voice was steady, a gentle reassurance that seemed to cut through the fog of her own doubts.

"You're stronger than you think. You've been through more than most people ever will, and you're still here. That means something."

Y/N swallowed, feeling a weight lift in her chest at his words. There was something about the way he looked at her, as if he truly saw her, not just the surface but the person beneath the layers of hurt. It made her feel... lighter, in a way. It made her feel like she wasn't as alone as she had thought.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment seemed to come to an end. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate but soft, like he was giving her space to breathe. "I should head out now...it's getting late." he said, his voice gentle. "I'm Levi, by the way. It was really good talking to you...I hope... I hope you find peace."

Y/N nodded, her heart stirring with sadness.

"I'm Y/N." she whispered, her voice a little stronger than she had expected. "Thank you, Levi. For everything...really."

Levi offered her one last smile, a sad but sincere one, before turning to leave.

Y/N was left sitting there, the weight of the moment settling on her chest. She didn't know what it was about Levi or why their brief exchange had felt so significant. But as she sat there, she realized something—something small but important.

Healing.

Y/N stormed out of the Last Drop, her mind now a whirlwind of frustration, confusion, and anger. The conversation with Levi, though brief, had rattled her in ways she wasn't prepared for. His words echoed in her mind, a reminder of the things she wasn't ready to hear. Things about moving on, about not letting the past define her.

But how could she let go when every step forward felt like a push to forget everything she'd ever cared about?

She needed to release the pressure building in her chest—the tightness in her throat, the weight pressing down on her heart. She needed to stop pretending that everything was okay.

As she walked, her steps quickening with each passing second, her thoughts turned darker. She wasn't just angry at the world, at the people who kept letting her down.

No, the anger had a target, a name.

Ekko.

It was his fault she felt so torn. He had pulled her in, made her believe that there was something more between them, something worth fighting for.

But then there was Jinx—always in the back of his mind, always there, even when she wasn't.

"Why am I always second place?" she muttered to herself, the irritation simmering just below the surface. She walked faster, her fist clenching at her side.

Suddenly, a group of men appeared ahead of her, their figures blurry from the haze of anger and alcohol clouding her mind. They eyed her with a mix of amusement and mockery, clearly seeing her as an easy target.

One of them stepped forward, a grin playing at the corners of his lips.

"What's a girl like you doing out here alone, huh?" one of them sneered. "You look like you could use a little help... or maybe some company?"

Y/N gritted her teeth, her fists clenching at her sides. "Don't touch me..." she mumbled.

She wasn't in the mood for their games, not after everything she had been through.

The man chuckled, clearly unfazed. "What's wrong? Scared?" He took a step closer, reaching out as if to grab her, but she swatted his hand away.

"Don't.." she said again, her voice firmer now, though the slight tremble in her tone betrayed her.

Another man laughed, stepping forward as well. The situation shifted in an instant. The first man lunged toward her, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her forward, trying to pin her against the wall. The others crowded in, grinning and jeering, as they made a move to steal whatever coins she had on her.

"Let go!" Y/N snarled, swinging her free arm at one of the men, landing a punch across his cheek. The other men stepped back, laughing at her resistance as if it was all some kind of joke.

But her blows weren't enough to stop them. One of the men twisted her arm behind her back, the pain shooting through her body as she struggled against his grip.

Panic surged in her chest, her mind spiraling. She tried to kick out, but another man knocked her to the ground, pinning her there.

The weight of it all came crashing down. Her anger, her sorrow, her fear, her confusion—it all hit her at once, and in that moment, all the walls she had built around herself shattered. Tears streamed down her face as she gasped for air, her body shaking. She had fought so hard to hold herself together, but here she was now, on the dirty ground with these men looming over her, she felt like nothing.

Like everything she had ever done had led to this. To this moment right here.

"Get off me." she sobbed, voice breaking as she cried out for help, but her words fell on deaf ears.

Just as one of the men raised his fist to hit her, the air around her shifted. She felt a shift in the chaos. In an instant, the man was knocked to the side with a force that made her blink.

She didn't know what was happening at first, too disoriented by the rush of adrenaline. But the sound of the hoverboard—the unmistakable hum she had come to associate with reached her ears before she could register anything else.

In a flash, Ekko appeared, taking out the men one by one with ease. His movements were fluid,

calculated—each strike swift and precise. He didn't hesitate, didn't give them a chance to fight back.

The men were on the ground in a matter of seconds, groaning in pain, unable to get up.

Y/N's heart raced, a surge of relief washing over her for just a second. But then, as Ekko slid to a stop in front of her, his boots barely scraping against the pavement, her stomach sank.

He was standing there, breathing heavily, looking at her with that familiar, protective look she had seen so many times before.

"Y/N..." he said, his voice softer than usual, eyes scanning her body for any visible harm.

But before he could even take a step toward her, she shoved him away, her hands pressing against his chest with more force than she intended.

"D-Don't!" she snapped, her voice shaking with anger. She couldn't even bring herself to look him in the eyes. "Don't you dare say it..."

Ekko stumbled back, confusion flashing across his face. "What? I'm just trying to—"

"Trying to what?" she cut him off, her eyes blazing with fury. "Trying to tell me how reckless I am? How I always mess everything up? Just like you did before? You think you're the only one who can handle things? You think I need you to save me every damn time?" Her voice cracked at the end, her anger suddenly giving way to the overwhelming emotions she had been holding back for so long.

Ekko's eyes widened as her words hit him, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. His chest tightened, a heavy weight pressing down on him. He had seen her angry before, but this... this was different. This wasn't just about the fight.

It was everything that had been building up for weeks, everything he had said to her—everything he hadn't said. He'd hurt her more than he realized.

He stepped back, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I didn't mean to—" His voice faltered, thick with guilt. "Y/N, I—"

"No Ekko.." she snapped, tears welling in her eyes despite the fierce expression on her face. "You don't get how it feels to be the one who's always fucking second. To be the one who's constantly told that I'm not good enough, that I'm a liability....You think I don't know what you really think of me? How you'd rather save her than me." She wiped at her eyes angrily.

Ekko's heart dropped. He knew who she was talking about.

The realization hit him like a wave. All this time, he had been so focused on protecting her, on trying to keep her safe, that he had completely ignored what she needed from him. She didn't need saving. She didn't need his constant worry, his control. She needed him to understand her, to be there for her in the way that mattered, not just when things got bad.

And he had failed her.

His voice was quiet now. "Y/N, I...I never wanted to make you feel like that. I never wanted you to think I cared more about her. It's just—"

"No..." she interrupted, shaking her head violently. "You're so damn obsessed with her, and you can't even see what's right in front of you." Her voice cracked again, but this time, she didn't try to hide it. "I'm right here, Ekko. I'm always here. I always have been."

Ekko stood there, completely frozen, as her words slammed into him. The truth of what he had done to her finally settled in, heavy and suffocating.

The anger, the hurt in her eyes—it all became clear.

He hadn't just been protecting her...he had been holding her back. He had been so caught up in his own fears, in his past, that he had completely disregarded what she truly needed from him.

that realization crushed him more than anything else.

"Y/N...please.." he said, his voice breaking as he took a hesitant step forward. "I... I didn't know. I didn't know how much I was pushing you away. I never meant to make you feel like you were second. You're not. You're never second."

Y/N didn't answer at first. She just stood there, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She was so frustrated and heartbroken, but underneath it all, there was something softer—a part of her that was just as desperate, desperate for him to understand.

I don't want to be a shadow anymore Ekko" she whispered, her voice barely audible now. "I just want to be enough."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, before he could even process them, she collapsed—her knees giving out beneath her as she crumpled to the ground.

Her body trembled with each sob, her face hidden in her hands as the alcohol and the weight of everything she had been carrying overwhelmed her all at once.

Ekko stood frozen for a moment, his heart in his throat. He didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to fix this, how to make things right. But as he watched her fall apart in front of him, everything he had been holding back came crashing down. This wasn't just about Jinx anymore. This wasn't about him trying to protect her or save her from herself.

This was about him failing her when she needed him the most.

Without thinking, he dropped to his knees beside her, his arms reaching out instinctively. He pulled her close, cradling her against his chest as she cried. She wasn't saying anything now, just letting the tears flow, the weight of everything she had been carrying threatening to crush her completely.

Ekko didn't speak. He didn't say anything at all. He just held her. In complete silence.

His hand brushed over her hair, trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how. "I'm sorry.." he whispered after a while, his voice thick with emotion. "...I'm so sorry Y/N."

Her sobs began to go quiet. She didn't answer at first, still struggling to regain control of her breath, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. The weight of everything—the alcohol, the anger, the broken trust—was starting to lift just a little, but the pain was still there.

Deep, raw, and unrelenting.

Ekko held her tighter, unwilling to let go, unwilling to let her face this alone anymore. He knew his words could never fix what had happened. He had failed her, hurt her, and he was going to have to work harder than he ever had before to earn her trust again.

"I never meant to hurt you baby.." he continued, his voice soft but full of regret. "I should've seen it. I should've understood how you felt. I... I don't know what I was thinking. I thought I was protecting you, but I was only pushing you away. And—And I'm so sorry."

There was a slight shift in her posture. She wasn't pulling away, but she wasn't completely letting herself fall into him either. The hurt was still there, and it wasn't going to disappear overnight. It couldn't.

After a long moment of silence, she spoke. "I don't know if I can trust you again" she whispered, the vulnerability in her words cutting through him like a blade. "I just...can't keep doing this."

Ekko's heart sank at the raw honesty in her voice. He knew she was right.

"I know.." he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've made you feel like that, and I hate myself for it...So fucking much. But you are enough Y/N. More than enough. And I'll spend every day proving that to you if I have to."

The words hung in the air, but for Y/N, they felt so distant. Something shifted inside her as the weight of Levi's words settled like an anchor in her chest.

You deserve someone who makes you feel like you're the only one.

The sharp clarity of that truth hit her hard, the bitter realization that no matter how hard Ekko tried, no matter how much he cared for her, she was always going to be second place in his heart.

Her gaze flickered away from his, her throat tightening as she struggled to find the right words. She could hear Ekko's voice, soft and sincere, but it couldn't drown out the inner voice that had been growing louder in her mind. The truth she had been avoiding for so long...

Ekko will always have one foot in the past.

She knew, deep down, that he was still tethered to Jinx. No matter how much he tried to prove otherwise, no matter how many promises he made, he could never fully release her. She would always be the first choice in his heart.

That lingering ghost that casted a shadow over everything Y/N dreamed to build with him.

Y/N took a slow, shaky breath. "I—I don't know what to say Ekko."

Ekko's face tightened with concern, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Y/N shook her head, the tears that had threatened to fall now blurring her vision. "I...I want to believe you. I really fucking do..." she whispered. "I want to believe that you can love me the way I deserve. But I... I can't keep fighting for a place in your heart."

The words felt like a punch to her own chest, but they were the truth.

She had to say them.

Ekko's expression faltered, the guilt and regret washing over him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, wanted to say that Jinx didn't matter to him anymore, that Y/N was his choice. But he couldn't.

Y/N took a step back, her chest tightening as she wiped away a tear. "I can't keep pretending that it doesn't matter Ekko. I can't keep pretending that I'm enough when you're always looking back at her."

"I'm not—" he started, but Y/N cut him off.

"No.." she said, her voice a little stronger now, though it still trembled. "You can't choose me the way I need you to. And...I—I deserve someone who chooses me, not someone who's always going to have a piece of their heart somewhere else."

Ekko stood there, speechless. He wanted to say something, to make her understand that he never meant to hurt her, that he loved her so much, but the truth was..

she was right.

Y/N could see the pain in his eyes, but it wasn't enough. Not anymore. "I think it's time for me to move on..." she whispered, her voice cracking.

Her words hung heavy in the air, like an unspeakable truth, and Ekko's chest tightening with each syllable she uttered. His mouth opened, but no words came out. It made it impossible for him to respond.

Y/N took a shaky breath, "I've given everything I can to this... to us" she continued, her voice a little steadier now. "But I can't keep sacrificing myself.."

Ekko's heart cracked at the finality in her words. She did deserve better than the half-hearted love he was giving her.

"I'm so sorry Y/N." he murmured, the words feeling empty as they left his mouth, too late, too little.

But Y/N couldn't let herself be swayed by his sorrowful tone anymore. The trust she had placed in him had been shattered over time, and now all that remained was the stark truth of what was.

She took another step back, her shoulders squared, her chin raised high. She wouldn't let him break her again.

"I know.." she whispered, her voice quieter now, the words more for herself than for him. "But knowing doesn't change anything." She paused, taking a deep breath before the words she knew she had to say. "I'm sorry too Ekko. But this is goodbye."

The finality in her voice struck him right then and there. For a moment, he just stared at her, his mind racing, trying to comprehend what she was saying. He didn't know how to make her stay now, everything he had done had already pushed her too far.

Ekko's sudden frustration grew. He moved toward her quickly, grabbing onto her arm with a fierce grip. "No Y/N" he growled, his voice rough. "You can't just—"

But before he could finish, he saw it. The way she stiffened at his touch, not even glancing at him. The realization hit him like a cold wave. She was done. Completely done. She wasn't going to let him hurt her anymore.

His fingers tightened around her arm, almost instinctively, but her cold silence forced him to slowly let go. Every ounce of frustration, and heartbreak he had been holding onto drained out of him in that one moment.

"Please baby..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking as the weight of what he had done sank in. "Please...not like this.."

Y/N didn't respond. She just pulled her arm free and took another step back, distancing herself from him.

Ekko stood there, stuck—feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under him.

it was too late.

Y/N had already made up her mind.

"Goodbye...Ekko..."

With one final look, she turned and walked away from him, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the empty street. And as he watched her leave, he finally understood. This time, he couldn't fix it.

And this time, he wasn't sure if he even deserved to.

She was gone. And it was his fault.

The night air felt cold against his skin, a stark contrast to the heat building in his chest. Every emotion that had once fueled him had been extinguished, replaced by a hollow emptiness that felt like a slow suffocation.

He had pushed her away. He had let his insecurities, his fears about Jinx, and his own selfishness dictate his actions. And now, he was left with nothing but the echo of her words, ringing in his ears.

"I think it's time for me to move on..."

He thought back to everything he had said. He had never given her what she needed, and now, she was gone.

He didn't know how long he stood there, lost in his thoughts, but eventually, the reality of the situation settled in. She wasn't coming back.

He had lost her, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Ekko finally turned away from the spot where she had stood, walking slowly through the streets. The city was as chaotic as ever, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Nothing mattered anymore.

He didn't know what to do next, or how to fix what he had broken. But one thing was clear.

he would never forget her.

He would never forget Y/N.

Y/N found herself lying on the cold ground. She didn't know how she had gotten there, didn't even bother to care anymore. Her body felt numb, her mind in a haze from the alcohol and the emotional wreck that had occurred. She stared up at the sky, trying to steady her breathing, but the weight of everything, the loneliness—pressed down on her chest.

For a moment, she thought she might suffocate under it all.

But then, something shifted next to her. The air around her seemed to change, as if the world was still holding its breath. She turned her head to the side.

And there he was again.

Levi's familiar face appeared beside her, his features soft in the dim green light, his eyes blinking as if he'd just woken up. He was lying next to her, his arm stretched out across the cold ground, looking every bit as confused as she was right now. His dark hair fell messily around his face.

and for a brief second, Y/N felt a strange sense of peace.

Levi blinked a few more times, his confusion slowly giving way to a soft smile as he realized it was her. "Y/N?" he muttered, his voice low and slightly groggy. "What the hell are you doing out here? Did you follow me here?"

Y/N didn't respond immediately. She just kept staring at him, taking in the sight of him as if he were a lifeline thrown her way in the midst of drowning. His presence was a stark contrast to everything she'd just gone through.

Without even thinking, she threw her arms around him. The hug came out of nowhere, and for a moment, Levi froze in place, his breath catching in surprise. But then, slowly, his big strong arms circled around her too. She buried her face in his chest, holding on tightly, as if afraid he might disappear the moment she let go.

Levi, still shocked but now fully awake, whispered into her hair. "Y/N what's going on? Are you okay?"

She shook her head, her voice muffled by his shirt as the tears she hadn't let fall earlier started to come. She couldn't find the words to explain the storm swirling inside her, but the hug was enough to make her feel like she wasn't entirely alone. Not for now. Not in this moment.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't know anymore."

Levi didn't ask any more questions. Instead, he just held her tighter, letting her cry into his chest. The city of Zaun seemed distant, as if the noise of it all had faded away. For now, in his arms, she found something she hadn't realized she needed—comfort. Understanding. And for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like she was falling apart completely.

As her tears slowed, she pulled back away from him to meet his gaze. There was something in his eyes, something so kind. He was there. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N didn't feel like she was carrying the weight of the world alone.

"I'm so sorry" she whispered again, her voice quieter this time, her eyes searching his face.

Levi gave her a small, almost sad smile. "Don't apologize...We all have our moments. I'm just glad you found me, even if it's in the middle of the damn street."

Y/N chuckled softly, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah, well... wasn't exactly the plan."

Levi tilted his head, a crooked smile playing on his lips. "The best things never are I guess..."

She smiled faintly, the weight on her chest lifting just a little. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn't feel completely alone. They sat there in comfortable silence, the distant hum of Zaun's chaos fading into the background.

As the minutes stretched, the exhaustion of the day began to settle in. Y/N leaned back against the cold ground, staring up at the patch of stars visible through the smoke-filled air. Levi followed, his arms folding beneath his head as he lay beside her.

"You know..." he said after a moment, "this is probably the strangest way I've ever made a friend."

Y/N turned her head to look at him, a faint laugh escaping her lips. "Friend, huh? Is that what we are now?"

"Would you prefer being enemies now?" Levi replied, chuckling.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a softness to her expression. "Nah, I could use a friend right now."

"Good." he said, his tone light. "Because I could use one too."

They stayed like that, lying side by side under Zaun's polluted sky. Y/N's eyes grew heavy, the day's events finally catching up to her.

"Levi?" she murmured sleepily.

"Hm?"

"Thanks for... being here. Even though we just met today.." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Anytime" he replied softly.

"Get some rest, Y/N. You're safe."

And she really did believe him.

They both drifted off there on the cold ground of Zaun, two broken souls finding solace in each other's company.

It wasn't perfect, and it didn't fix everything, but it was a start.

I will be posting a happy for the Reader and Ekko ending soon <3.

Just had to let this one sink in fr.

Check out my Ekko one shots on Wattpad for more stories!! :3

[shizunitis]

shizunitis mark of tumblr dot com… what does he ponder…

demon emperor luo binghe (-ge variant) meets shen yuan who becomes his loyal confidant and advisor just fresh out of the abyss. sy stays unobstructive and away from the emperor most times. he visits the palace every few years for a longer period of time to check up on binghe and offer any advice he might have. while he’s there, lbh’s wives and guards keep like. disappearing, dying, etc. it is heavily implied throughout the fic that, through how when shen yuan leaves the palace the disappearances/deaths stop, shen yuan is the culprit.

lbh refuses to believe this. he would not want to ever lose shen yuan. he looks forward to his visits and is happy when he’s there, something he won’t squander with speculations and offensive accusations.

but the thought lingers. shen yuan is clearly distancing himself from lbh, has been for decades, but now it’s more clear than ever. he cuts their meetings short. his visits become shorter and farther apart and, if lbh were to stop and think, he’d realise that shen yuan’s visit this time was highly unusual in its timing and sudden announcement.

finally, the evidence is stacked against shen yuan, who is spotted leaving the harem with blood on his clothes, looking angry. he is brought to the emperor in chains, and his eyes are empty as he stares up at lbh from where he’s made to kneel. the guards announce a wife was found near-dead in her chambers, and is unresponsive. the emperor listens to the accusations and drags shen yuan away himself, locks him in a room, and goes to have a terrible think. he accepts he doesn’t want to kill shen yuan, even still. he goes to find shen yuan again, to demand an explanation, but shen yuan is refusing to speak.

lbh is called away by an emergency in the human realm. he secures the room shen yuan is held in, and goes. when he comes back, exhausted from battle, he finds shen yuan speaking to shang qinghua, who had long been thought dead. lbh eavesdrops: the truth of shen yuan and sqh’s transmigration is revealed and shen yuan comes clean about what happened that night: he was helping one of lbh’s wives, who’d gone through a miscarriage. he was angry at lbh: he doesn’t say much other than speak about lbh’s cruelty, and how he hadn’t expected it to be this bad, but the underlying sentiment is clear.

sqh reassures him that “the plan” is going smoothly and the mushroom bodies are ready. lbh remembers them from when he encountered an enemy using them for their own ends, and puts two and two together.

but he hesitates to act. he could clear the misunderstanding up, he could explain and ask shen yuan for guidance, as he always had, but the truth is he doesn’t know that shen yuan would ever forgive him. he’d neglected his wife in a time of need, who had to call upon another man to save her, putting both in an impossible position. he’d imprisoned and mistreated shen yuan, who’d been with him for decades at this point. he’d done many things to drive everyone away. if shen yuan wants to be rid of him, shouldn’t he be allowed that?

this is where xin mo kicks in and lbh can’t hold himself back. he reveals himself. sqh disappears in a flurry of snowflakes, and shen yuan is left to defend himself against an angry, xin mo-fueled luo binghe who’s clearly just back from war. lbh slashes a portal in the air and pushes shen yuan towards it. shen yuan asks lbh to wait, that he has something important to say, he can’t leave just yet, he needs to listen to him; with the last of his sanity lbh demands shen yuan never return, unless he’d like to die with no back-up plan to fall on this time, and finally pushes him past the gaping maw of xin mo’s portal. then he has a quick and breezy breakdown.

the next day, lbh declares shen yuan dealt with. but oh! what’s this? the murders continue! it was not shen yuan after all?! some wives had demanded he be left alive, but everyone had thought them insane! it was actually a wife this whole time?! and liu mingyan and ning yingying were the first ones to notice?! and they brought their case to the emperor demanding justice?! and sha hualing was the first to rally her forces and go against the murderer, only to be imprisoned away from the palace, months ago?! and shen yuan released her and brought her back to the palace and begged she not tell anyone, least of all luo binghe?! oh my!! oh no!!

anyway. yeah thats. that’s what’s on my mind right now.

[juyeoz]

˙ㅤ۪ 𓂋⠀FOR THE PLOT — AN 02z SMAU

003 ┆ chronicles of narnia 2 (0.6k words)

The Juniors game was fun. It was sad that they had lost, but at least they were sweet. Triple ball wasn’t so bad either. It might have been since you were with Haerin and another club member, but it wasn’t as dreadful as you thought it’d be.

However, that was before you saw the senior’s walk in. They were quiet and quite scary. You glanced over at Haerin who adjusted the blue cloth in her pocket and made her way to the scorekeepers. 

The match wouldn’t start for another 10 minutes, so you had a lot of time to kill.

“(Last Name)!” A voice called, causing your head to whip over toward the sound. It was Sunghoon, your friend from kindergarten. He smiled at you with a wave and you returned the action. 

You jogged over towards the boy and his teammates all while being careful near Sunwoo, the boy you found scary.

“How was it?” Sunghoon asked while placing his belongings on the wall behind their team bench. 

You shrugged. “It was pretty good. Not as bad as I thought it would be.” 

“I told you.” He replied with a smile. Sunghoon pulled his practice t-shirt over his head, practically showcasing himself shirtless in front of you and many others.

“What are you trying to show off?” You asked, disgusted. 

“What are you talking about?” Sunghoon asked and threw his t-shirt over his belongings while reaching for his jersey. 

“Are you trying to impress someone in the bleachers or something?” 

“I’m just changing.” He said and slipped his jersey over his head. 

“Really? It’s almost as if I couldn’t tell.” You joked, causing Sunghoon to smile. 

“Also, can you chest-pass the volleyball to me instead of rolling it? It helps me with my serves.” He questioned as you nodded. Whatever that meant, at least.

The boy began to wrap his fingers, satisfied upon hearing you agree with his request while you looked around in hopes that your friends were sitting in the bleachers as they said they would.

Three hands went up in a waving motion, catching your attention immediately. It was them. Your eyes brightened at the sight as you made your way closer to the bleachers while waving back at them.

“(Name)!” Karina called from above you as you smiled back at them. 

“Hi!” You cheered, earning more smiles from the four. 

“Here, wait, BeReal moment!” Karina said while holding out her phone as you and the four posed at the same time.

The four held up hand signs or did a silly face while you held up a peace sign and looked up at them. 

“She’s so small.” Nayeon said with a slight laugh while looking at the screen of her phone.

“What are you looking at?” A voice called from behind where she sat in class, causing Nayeon to flinch and almost drop her phone.

“You need to stop doing that! I’m just looking at a BeReal my friend sent me, look,” Nayeon said while showing the culprit—Jake—her phone screen. 

“Is that (Name)?” Jake asked, squinting his eyes to get a better look at the girl alone.

“Who?” Nayeon asked, confused.

“The girl who’s standing alone.” He explained and pointed at her.

“I’m not sure, I don’t know who that is.” She replied, still confused than ever. 

“How do you know her?”

“We were friends from second grade to fifth grade, but quarantine happened and we kind of drifted apart since I moved as well. We would email and text here and there, yet it wasn’t enough to keep our bond going.” Jake explained, a hint of dullness in his voice.

“I mean, I could ask if it’s her…” Nayeon continued.

“If you want, you can. I doubt she remembers me anyways.” Jake said while reaching over Nayeon’s shoulder for his duffle bag. 

“I’m off to practice now, see you later.” 

“See you…” She mumbled, still hung up on what Jake said earlier. 

Whoever this girl was, she must’ve been important to Jake for him to recognize her from such a far distance and a low quality image.

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ENHYPEN PERM TAGLIST — @miumura @macapunoz @ch4c0nnenh4 @ancnymcnzjy

FTP TAGLIST — @enhypenlovre @love-lee @ikeulove @mnhpuppy @httpenhoon @yeonmuse @modanisgf @wilonevys @starry-eyed-bimbo @immelissaaa @woniefull @mymelodyfanatic @hollxe1 @rikiiisoob @parkjjongswifey @coqhee @heirdollies @domfikeluva @miszes @eyesonlybutterflies @suhwife @yuniesluv @right-person-wrong-time @haechsworld @butterflywonz @leehsngs @ddolleri @multifandomlovers-posts @t1iqaa @itsactuallylina

© JUYEOZ

[neovillains]

GOLDEN CHRYSANTHEMUMS ⋆ NANAMI KENTO

syn. the golden chrysanthemum, a cozy bed and breakfast with raving views ── according to yelp. just the place you need after your car breaks down near a small town | 5.6k words ( minors, ageless, & blank blogs: do not interact )

── vampire!kento nanami/influencer!reader, nanami runs a bed & breakfast, violence, blood, major character death.

note. i enjoyed writing this a lot and i hope you all do, too. please comment down below or let me know in the tags of your reblogs what you think! mwah!

1800S TO 1900S — nanami’s point of view

Nanami always says he can’t remember his childhood— for Heaven’s sake, it was a long long time ago. Whenever he told guests this, they’d chuckle because he couldn’t be no older than thirty, right? And for the most part, he’s not lying. He can’t remember vivid details of his past like he was once able to. However, there’s a certain time period that could never escape him. Something that always stays relevant in his mind— his first time he stepped foot inside of the Golden Chrysanthemum. A two-story pink Victorian home that was nowhere close to what he was imagining. Clinging to his mother, his stubby fingernails dug into the fine fabric of her dull mustard yellow gown and forced the woman to take very staggered steps. Nanami wasn’t typically a stubborn child, but he remembered his mother telling him to stop, and that, “you’re acting like an ass.”

But still, the boy clung onto his mother like his life depended on it. He had known nothing about his father’s side of the family, but ever since his passing, his mother wanted to change that. Getting in contact through a letter, Nanami’s paternal grandmother thought it was about time that her daughter-in-law forgot about all these petty squabbles the two of them shared, and gave her her right to know her grandson. Trudging up the cobblestone pathway in broad daylight, three hefty knocks sounded through the door before a waft of silence passed. 

The Golden Chrysanthemum wasn’t always a bed and breakfast. No, when Nanami first arrived, it was just Nana’s house. Nana’s house was pink with golden chrysanthemums that caged in the beauty. A well manicured garden and lawn that the woman had tended to for years on end even at her age. She would push a gigantic lawn mower with shears that Nanami was always afraid of getting too close to and each blade of grass was shredded to their desired height. 

That beginning week, Nanami didn’t know much about his grandmother except for the fact that she was his father’s mother and mama didn’t seem to like her very much. However, as days came to pass and she had miraculously learned that Nanami enjoyed pancakes very much, he’d stop hiding behind the frills of his mother’s dress and started trekking behind the older lady. 

He thought he was sly with the way he always kept his distance, sitting on the bench while the mower would loudly rev to life. He thought she didn’t see him when he would sit at the highest steps possible to keep away from view, peeking his head out to watch her cook in the wee hours of the morning. Oh, how she wanted to tell that boy to go back to bed, but those brown eyes. . . (He certainly didn’t get them from her side of the family). They were just so cute and innocent that one day she just had to call out his name. Or, something close to it. 

“Boy,” she called out. “Would you just stop all that hiding and come here?”

She figured that she should’ve been kinder, seeing how the boy started to shudder in fright, already on his feet and running back up the stairs to crawl under the blankets beside his mother. She sighed, but like always, found his skittish tendencies to be quite amusing. She only hoped that this wouldn’t be the end of his morning visits.  

And for a week, she had thought they were. The boy hadn’t come out not once in the past seven days, leaving her alone in the heat as she poured the batter onto the blackening pan over the fire. The sizzle of oil filling in the silence and her growing loneliness. Fortunately, that solitude didn’t last too long. On the tenth day, Nanami finally showed face, his footsteps creaking on the wooden staircase as he took gentle steps down. This time, he trudged closer in her vicinity and waited until she took notice. When she turned her head, she beckoned him over with her head and still addressed him as “boy.”

“Come here and learn how to make pancakes with your grandma, okay?” She said something about not having anyone useless in her house, but Nanami didn’t really care for her ramblings. 

It wasn’t until a month after her death that his mother got the idea of turning the house into a bed and breakfast. Nanami didn’t know what that was, but thought it was a terrible idea. He had brought it up a couple of times, always voicing that he didn’t think that’s what Nana would have wanted. However, time and time again, his mother would remind him to stay in a child’s place and dismiss all of his concerns. However, Nanami was growing into a man. Thirteen years of age and having grown a love for the pink home, he didn’t want to see other people— strangers— lurking inside of the place, his home. He tried staying respectful, but his words always fell upon deaf ears with his mom. 

“Have you no concern for our safety?” He knew the abruptness of the conversation would have his mother taken aback. “Strangers coming in and out of the place for a night— who knows what they could do in those couple of hours!”

Nanami couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten slapped. Before this, he remembered being seven when he felt the heavy impact of his mother’s hand. He always remembers the shock of it, and never the physical pain of it. The way his heart beat would quicken and how he gasps. He remembers being hurt, yes, but it was always something emotional for him. His mother always had a tendency to slap him when he spoke too much and had said something she wasn’t fond of. He thought he learned to keep his mouth shut a couple of years ago, but here he finds himself in the same predicament, feeling that same emotional pain all over again. However, the only solution he had come up with at the time was compliance. 

Fortunately for his mother (and unfortunately for him), he had come to enjoy the idea of a bed and breakfast. However, that wouldn’t happen until many years to come. Though, he can imagine how much his mother is smiling in her grave at the fact that he still carries on the Golden Chrysanthemum in her absence. Always keeping it up to pristine conditions— the home still upkeep that same shade of pink that his grandmother had it and the garden of golden chrysanthemums still in its tip-top shape as he tended to them— he no longer does it begrudgingly. Now, he does everything in the memory of his grandmother. However, sometimes he questions if he’s disappointed her with the amount of red that’s seeped into the ground and the haunting stench of death and decay that lies within his wake. 

The dimming sky as the sun continues to set. The twinkling stars that are coming out of their hiding spots, announcing themselves the winner as yet again, the sun hides away in shame. Nanami has matured some more, standing taller than his mother past six feet at twenty-seven years old. His blond hair no longer covering his face and all the hard work outside is paying off as his muscles are well-defined and he has to go to the tailor’s whenever a button’s getting loose. He slouches in his seat to his mother’s dismay, no longer looking him in the eyes with a sense of joy or happiness. She has come to the term that that’s just what happens in adulthood. 

During dinner, his mother had told him to water the flowers, saying that she had forgotten this time around. It was the only thing she said through its entirety and Nanami simply mumbled in acknowledgment before finishing the rest of his plate. He scraped whatever he could for compost while sinking the porcelain plate into the dirty dish water, letting it soak and submerge in the wet mess. 

In that short time, the sky had completely blackened and the man on the moon was his current guardian. Nana had told Nanami just how to tend to the dear flowers, pointing towards the shed as it had everything he needed. His eyes were falling heavy and his vision getting blurry, trudging his way towards it and swinging the door open. With the force, the door quickly shuts as it opens, leaving him in absolute darkness as he maneuvers himself swiftly through it. Reaching for the water pale and the cloth bag full of plant food as he continues on blind to the red-eyed demon that lurks in the corner. 

Nanami remembers the excruciating pain that he felt as he tried to fight the large and bulky body that pressed against him. The crushing grip that was wrapped around his abdomen, squeezing breath from his as two sharp fangs pierced into his skin; the jaw that sunk into his flesh as Nanami screamed out in the distance. How had his mother not here him?

Slowly on the brink of death, when the monster was finished, it flung Nanami’s weaker body to the ground. He heard things tumble and fall as well as the creak of the shed’s door before it was slammed shut. Laying flat on the ground, he felt like he could barely move. However, with the consciousness that he had left, his fingers twitched as he mustered up whatever strength he could to crawl his way through the door. 

Everything in his path started to lose its life, the sharp blades of grass dwindling and turning yellow, the cobblestone pavement smeared in blood and the petals of the golden chrysanthemums quivering to brown as Nanami forced himself to stand. When he touched the door knob, it left a mark and with his heavy footsteps, he wouldn’t know what to explain to his mother. Though, there was nothing much left of her when he woke up the next day, no longer coated in just his own blood.

YEAR 2024, 10:08 PM — nanami’s point of view 

Nanami has come to terms with his life decisions. Finding solace in his mother’s death, he began to take pride in the upkeep of the Golden Chrysanthemum. Spending his days with the curtains shut and tending to any necessary repairs, he made sure that all guests were out by twelve p.m. Despite the daylight ring that was wrapped around his left middle finger, he spent his days cooped up inside the outdated Victorian home finding things to keep him busy and his mind occupied. Circular reading glasses that stuck to the bridge of his nose, his eyes stared at the words on the laptop, going through any bookings and making sure all his books were up to time. He held onto a red-ink pen, jotting down in the notebook alongside him and crossing out the tasks he completed. 

He missed the trivial little human things he used to whine about,especially a headache— a telltale sign from his body silently telling him that he needed a break. Now, he could stand at this desk until the sun goes down, completely unaware of the world around him. Time only seems to be going faster in his presence, nightfall creeping up on his back as a shiver runs down his spine when he no longer feels the ache of the sun through the window. His fingers don’t ache, but when he bends them, he can hear the cracks from each muscle as he shuts down the screen and hops off the round stool. 

Now, he starts to feel it, that hunger deep inside. That hunger eats him up in a way that’s more animalistic than any other ravenous and furry beast to exist. It beckons him to saunter down the wooden floor as his brown leather shoes clunk against the ground and reach for the door knob. Checking the time— ten-o-eight p.m.— he keeps the sign hanging on the door as it says ‘Open.’ He shouldn’t be gone for that long. 

YEAR 2024, 10:15 PM — your point of view ! [ currently filming ]

You remember when you started vehemently watching youtube. You watched videos that primarily focused on lifestyle and vlogs about strangers that you had come to admire. They’d record themselves under certain predicaments that always seemed too private to be shared on the internet and show themselves in low moments. Then, you always told yourself that if you became an influencer of any sort, you’d never do that. 

Now look at you. 

You fix your tripod, making sure that the camera is focused and that the red light is on as it captures the entirety of your vehicle on camera. Internally, you were asking yourself what you were doing. It was ten-fifteen at night and the sky was dark. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere anyone could come out at any moment and murder you. However, that’s why you also convinced yourself that this was a great idea. If you were to die, your evidence will be recorded for the authorities to find. 

You also needed to talk about your current predicament, even if it was ultimately to yourself in this very moment in time. What was so wrong with that? 

“Guys,” speaking to the camera, you sighed. “My car broke down.”

You had made the plans to travel from your hometown all the way to California in a lonesome roadtrip to celebrate graduating from school with your master’s in Occupational Therapy. It was a huge accomplishment and in the time that it took from undergrad to here, you never really took some time to really do something you wanted. You were also considering the possibility of moving out-of-state with California as the place to be, making sure to kill two birds with one stone as you wanted to experience the different climate as a tourist first before becoming a resident. 

You were expected to arrive at your hotel by tomorrow evening, but you fear that this delay with offset your entire plans. Now, you’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere in Nebraska, stranded. “I don’t even understand how. I made sure that everything was in good standing before I left. Maybe I was overworking it, but I don’t know… Ugh, I’m just gonna google and see if there are any places open at this time at night to see if they’d help a damsel in distress.”

Pulling out your phone from your back pocket, when you press the power button, the brightness blinds you. You turn it down as your attention quickly becomes glued to the device, praying that the few signal bars that you have won’t result in a time-consuming wait. You perch yourself on the hood of the car as your camera silently watches, recording everything. With one hand scrolling through your phone, you start to gnaw on one of your hang-nails.

You gnaw and gnaw absentmindedly until a harsh pinch makes you hiss. From the light of your phone, you can see the small red dot that slowly starts to expand. Grimacing, you sweep it under the bridge, licking off the light wound. 

The camera catches it, the dark figure that appears from nowhere, looming silently before it comes closer. Their figure becomes more clear in their hauntingly silent steps, standing behind your car before your front door. A teal blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows and an animal-print tie that matches with khakis slacks held up by a deep brown belt, he stands half an inch over six feet. 

“Excuse me,” a deep voice that immediately sends you jumping off your car. You immediately catch yourself, using the vehicle to stop your fall. Your phone falls from your grasp, hitting the ground as a squeak leaves your mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” the man comes to apologize. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. It just seems like you needed some help, that’s all. Did your car break down?”

Your body tenses up, taking in the man from head-to-toe as you stoop down to grab your phone, which now has a cracked screen. You test out the power button, grateful that it still lights up, at least. You nod your head, though still averting your eyes away from him. “Yeah, it did.”

“Could I possibly take a look at it to see the problem?” he offers you assistance. “I won’t be able to do much, but I own a bed n’ breakfast just two miles back. You can spend the night and if it’s something simple I can help get your car back on the road, or I can help you find the closest mechanic right in the morning.”

The prospect of his plan was enticing, but something still made your skin crawl about him. A shiver ran down your spine, the cold breeze starting to run through you as you tried debating this in your mind. It was late at night and truthfully, you should've found yourself somewhere to rest your head at. However, you planned to find somewhere by midnight before sluggishly bringing yourself to whatever place to rest your head for the night. Nevertheless, what was a man like this doing at this time of night? 

You give him another once-over. He seems like he just came off of work, you noted to yourself. Did he say he owned a bed n’ breakfast? 

“You own a bed n’ breakfast?” You ask, to which, he nods. “What’s it called?”

“The Golden Chrysanthemum.”

“Do you have a business card for it?” Immediately, he reaches in his back pocket, pulling one out and handing it to you. You dust off your phone, trying to rid yourself of any fine pieces of glass shards onto your loose-fitted pants before typing in the business name for further verification. You scroll through whatever reviews you can find, all of them seemingly rating the place four to five stars and having all nice things to say. 

Your shoulders fall and your body relaxes a bit as you finally give him the okay to check on your car. He sends you to the front seat, popping the lid and starting the car. He’s able to find the issue in a short manner of time and tells you that it’s an easy fix. “You just need a jump start. You have a jump starter, right?”

You feel ashamed to admit that you don’t. You were living a very frugal lifestyle in grad school, knowing that you needed things but couldn’t afford it at the time. When creating this road trip checklist, you had forgotten to put it on your list entirely. Shaking your head no, the man— or Nanami Kento, according to his business card— shuts the lid. “You should invest in one.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, sheepishly. “I know.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’ll call for a tow truck.”

After grabbing some of your necessities from your car— your suitcase and a backpack— Nanami does, most, all of the heavy lifting as he drags your suitcase and backpack. The two of you walk in a silence that you feel is uncomfortable as you constantly glance back at him in a wariness. “Why are you out so late?”

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he answers, nonchalantly. He doesn’t give further elaboration, making more questions swirl in your mind as you remember him saying that the Golden Chrysanthemum was two miles back. Usually, when you had a heavy mind and couldn’t fall asleep, you’d walk half-a-mile— a mile at most. However, his tone was laced with such certainty that it was believable. He seemed so rigid that if you dared to question him any further, you probably wouldn’t get anywhere. 

“Wow,” you gawk instead. “You walked for two miles and still aren’t tired?”

“Yeah,” Nanami answers. He’s learned to not overcompensate. Too long of an explanation would leave people suspicious and suspicious people are why the cat gets killed. He never expected to be helping someone stranded on the side of the road tonight, but the deep neck of the woods were bare of any hikers. He always considered himself a dignified person, having a code that aligned with his morals— no women or children. He’d never break that code with himself.

You frown at the dry response, a fog forming when you sigh as you decide to play along into the silent game. The only thing to be heard is the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the wheels of your suitcase spinning smoothly before you’re finding yourself stepping onto a cobblestone path. Nanami starts leading the way as you take a step behind to marvel over the tall beauty as the moon sparkles against it. 

Two-story pink beauty with white accents, wooden panels that seem so brand new and glass that sparkles even in the dark. The sign next to you seems to have been handpainted, the dark letters that were written in such perfect calligraphy that reads of the name. Nanami doesn’t wait for you, hauling your stuff up as you start getting closer to the front steps. It’s then that you come to notice the well-kept lawn and the garden that aligns the building, the flowers that have given the place its name— The Golden Chrysanthemum. 

YEAR 2024, 12:03 AM — your point of view [ filming ! ] 

You jump up in bed with a jolt, your heart thumping against your chest in an attempt to escape your body. You heave, trying to catch your breath as you don’t have the liberty of gradually coming to your senses. In the darkness, you can’t see anything as you kick off the cotton covers and your bare feet land on the cold, wooden ground. 

The moment that Nanami had set up a room for you, you realized how exhausted you are. The mattress of the bed was so comfortable and the pillows so soft, the minute your head hit the pillow, you were fast asleep. But you had barely been sleeping for half an hour when you heard these creaking sounds and the occasional thud, the very thing being the reason why you’re up right now. 

With your heart more steady and coming to your senses, you glance at the clock and exhale. Still obnoxiously exhausted, you reach for your camera as you remember its existence and turn it on. The lens on your face and the red light right on you, you forget about the fact that you’re in the dark. As if on queue, you drag out a huge yawn. “Well… I managed to find a place to stay for the night.

“This guy… I don’t know where he came from, but…” You’re dozing in and out, trying to get your thoughts straight. “But, he offered to help me out with my car and he owns a bed n’ breakfast. That’s—” you yawn once more “—where I’m at right now.

“The bed—” you pat the bed, droning on and on as you recommend the place. Your eyes would lull shut, dozing off occasionally before your body reminded you of the camera in your hand. Unsteadily, the lens was no longer on your face and pointed towards the window. The moon was shining, but very dimly as you were gifted the view of beautiful greenery. In a bedroom that faced the back of the house, the bushes were whistling in the wind along with the cicadas and crickets that sang at night. It was a singular moment, happening within a split second that the camera captured vividly, a figure that resembled a human but moved at the speed of light. Heading towards the shed as the door quickly opens and shuts. 

Focusing and unfocusing before focusing once more, the camera was hoping to capture more until you had finally come to your senses. Fixing your hand, the camera was back on you. “You know what, I’m gonna head back to sleep. I should’ve just… waited for the morning before updating you guys. Um… Good night.”

YEAR 2024, 2:24 AM — your point of view [ filming! ]

You had a dreamless sleep, but at some point in between, you felt a sense of unease. When you wake up again, it’s nearly half-past-two in the morning. You’re kicking your legs off the bed once more, bare feet planted against the cold wooden ground as you roll your shoulders. You don’t have to come to your senses, your anxiety does all of that for you. Heart pressing against your chest and your breathing harsh and uneven. Your eyes are closed as you try to steady yourself before standing up. 

You roll your shoulders back one more time before rubbing your eyes and wiping away the crust that had begun to form. Exhaling, you think the best thing to do is to go out for a walk. Peeking out of the window, the sky still dark and the moon seeming brighter. You slip back on the shoes you were wearing, still in the same clothes that you had driven in for how many hours. Hand twisting the door knob, the hall is dark with an overhead lamp that’s on a dim setting. You hadn’t forgotten your camera, still at a decent charge as the red light shines dimly. You don’t feel like saying a word. 

It’s silent, deafeningly so that it feels eerie. Though, that only seems natural at a time like this. Everyone else must be fast asleep, you easily presume in order to calm yourself down. Including the owner himself as you walk towards the lobby, where a counter sits to your left and the living area to your right. Cream-colored walls and white furniture that helps brighten up the place. The mounted television is off and everything is still. Every trinket and every object seemingly staring you down in an effort to scrutinize and only increasing your panic as you hug yourself, arms wrapped around you as you move forward to the door.

The night is chillier, the thin veil of your top doing nothing to keep you warm as your feet shuffle down the sidewalk. Your legs move involuntarily, starting you on an unknown path as your phone sits in your back pocket. If push comes to shove, you have that to rely on. It’s now two-thirty-five in the morning as you trek down the cobblestone path and head down the sturdy sidewalk. Even with the insects harmonizing and the gust of wind whirling by, it’s eerily stagnant outside. You try to keep your breathing steady as you hold yourself tighter, walking past an abundance of greenery. The moon peeking through the trees, playing hide and seek with you as it provides you company. Finally, do you speak into the camera, keeping it facing forward instead of on you in order to capture the beauty of the night. 

“I woke up yet again,” you sigh. “Honestly, a lot of this footage, I might be cutting out, but you guys will provide me more comfort while I’m taking a walk… in the middle of the night.”

The next time you check your phone, it’s seven minutes until three in the morning. Gradually do you feel more at peace as you come to accept that your mind and worries are only playing a game on you, finding your demise to be comical. However, it’s three-eleven when you finally decide to turn back around. 

Your camera catches him first. More silent than a pin dropping, his stance is stiff and threatening as his eyes are darker than the coffee-colored hues they were before. Again, your heart pounds against your chest as he approaches you without a word. You clutch your chest, camera staggering as your nails dig into your shirt. “God, you just keep on scaring me tonight.”

He ignores your fright, head tilting to the right as he clutches his fists, veins protruding from his hands to his forearms. “What’re you doing out so late? It’s not safe at this time of night.”

“I’m just taking a little walk,” you explain. “I couldn’t sleep and needed some fresh air.”

“I think it’s best that you head back inside, ma’am.” You notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs, seemingly trying to keep himself together. “Like I said, these times at night aren’t very… safe.”

Against your better judgment, you shake your head. “I’ll head back in soon. I just need a few more minutes to myself before turning back.”

“It would be better if you’d head back now, actually.”

Eyes squinting as you keep the camera pointed to him, you take a step back. “I think I’m fine, actually.”

“You’re in a place you’re unfamiliar with,” Nanami goes on to argue, challenging you as he inhales deeply. “Don’t you think the smart choice would be to turn back?”

“Why do you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off. “I’m trying to seek out your best interests. I don’t think it will be particularly smart for you to keep arguing with me—” His eyes soften, silently pleading with you. “—Please, head back.”

Your shoulders drop in defeat as you go to turn off your camera. Underneath your breath, you say, “Fine.”

However, at three-twelve in the morning, your camera lens is shattered as it lies on the ground and the red light is still shining. In the blink of an eye, you’re gone and the device abandoned. 

YEAR 2024, 4:59 AM — omnipresent point of view [ not recording ] 

You don’t know what time it is when you finally return back to consciousness. Hands bound behind your back as thick ropes keep them still. Your eyes flutter open as your chest rises and falls, trying to get a bearing of your surroundings as Nanami is kneeling in front of you. Eyes that still hold that same darkness as he watches you return back to reality. Oh, how hard he tried to keep himself grounded, trying to restrain the hunger within himself. Even now, he tries to keep himself under control.

However, is there any way to keep you alive after this point? He’s no magician. He can’t take away your memories and make you forget. To have you walking around, knowing of his existence, it wouldn’t be safe for him. 

I could paint her as a mad woman, he contemplates. Who’d believe a girl claiming that vampires are real? However, he knocks that question out with, She could, however, paint me a criminal. Nonetheless, in this battle for rationality and morals, time continues to go and his hunger grows stronger. Nails digging into the palm of his hand, threatening to prick into his skin, he stands when a faint gasp leaves your lips. “Wh–Where am I?”

In the basement, he’s got you tied down to a pole. You try to pull at the binding, your wrists already bruised from how tight he’s got the ropes. “Why am I tied up? Who are you— Let me go!”

Your mind whirls as you come to your senses, eyes widening as you try to free yourself. He should’ve thought this through. He should’ve killed you the moment he knocked you out. You’d have a painless death. Now, he’s given you the curse of one that’ll be excruciating. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I tried warning you when I had a bit more self-control.”

When he inches toward you, you try to back away from him. However, that only results in your head hitting the pole as your breathing becomes erratic. He ignores your fright, trying to ignore the guilt that courses through him as he stands behind you, reaching for the man-made manacles— if you can even call them man-made anymore. “You’ve worn me out, however.”

“What do you mean?” you try looking back, feeling the restraints being lifted and only to be replaced with his tight hold. “Please—” You try your luck here, attempting to pull away from his grasp, but he doesn’t budge one bit. “Please, let me go.” 

Your chest heaves, panting heavily as tears prick down your face. One hand holding down your wrists, Nanami reaches to swipe away at the dried blood. He had created a nasty gash in your head, blood still pooling from it as crimson paints his thumb. “I don’t usually prey on women. It goes against my own code, but…”

With a lick from his tongue, the dark veins underneath his eyes reveal his true form. “You’ve left me no choice. I just couldn’t… I just can’t hold back anymore.”

Eyes widening as you know your impending death is near, your mind does the best thing it could conjure. Letting out signals as your body comes to a cold sweat, you let out a blood-curdling scream in hopes to be heard. However, inhumanely faster than you, sharp canines reveal themselves and prick into the nape of your neck. Your cry for help becomes choked, stuttering on the high-pitched wail as you mewl out in pain. 

“Please,” you beg, your body feeling heavier by the second. “I–I don’t… I don’t want to die.”

When he drops your lifeless body, your eyes are still wide open. Nanami gives you the grace of closing them.

YEAR 2024, 5:43 AM — nanami’s point of view [ destroyed footage ]

Nanami considers himself lucky when he’s the first to find your camera. Picking it up, he’s surprised that the damn thing is still on and flashing red. Mouth smeared in a browning rouge, he looks into the camera lens with a dead stare. Then forcing it to the ground, the glass shatters as two heavy stomps crush the device, the sims card still intact. 

THE END.

film credits — thank you to @mitsuwu for basically giving me the idea to make reader an influencer.

subscriptions ── @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @satsattoru @blcknebula @tojirin

[somnus-lucis-caelum]

Somnus did not need to be told twice that he should keep his distance from the dragon. But Aerith was right, Alba probably would not keep calm, if he got any closer again. And neither would Gilgamesh, ever watchful from one of the hills surrounding the villa. Honestly it was half a miracle he had not sprung to action already y- maybe he had noticed Leif sooner. Or gotten further instructions ahead.

The Princess and the Dragon. A tale as old as time – and yet Aerith rewrote it right in front of his eyes. The scaled monster enjoyed her attention, liked to be fussed. Somnus had never seen something like this. Yes… he guessed some beasts could be tamed. But… not monsters. Not a dragon.

And yet he could only stand there and watch her. Though everything she said seemed to be right. The dragon – Nidhogg – lazed there like a cat.

Upon her returning, Somnus still wore an incredulous look on his face.

“M-hm… and what is he being fed on? I guess it is not just beets and roots.”, Somnus questioned, as he barely managed to peel his eyes from the dragon and towards Nidhogg. Though brief glanced into the direction of the dragon still happened.

What would the townsfolk think if they saw him? His own parents?

“Who knows all about this? I… I do not think most of our soldiers and warriors will stay calm at the sight of this. We can’t afford any further panic and chaos… and if this is your… pet, I would not want him hurt.”

And a rogue thought was in his head, too. One that belonged much more to the mind of a child than a prince.

Can I touch him, too?

Aerith fussed Alba's white feathers idly as if she might calm her down some more. Though in the presence of a dragon, this was about as calm as calm could be for a chocobo... and oddly enough, Somnus too.

"Nidhogg." she half-corrected, wearing a sympathetic smile. "When I first met him, he was the size of a dog. I grew up around him and we have watched each other grow." Hopefully that explained why she was so unbothered by the dragon. It felt natural to her that Nidhogg was nearby, keeping a watchful eye over the home.

"You're safe. For Alba's sake, stay here, I don't think she will be happy if you get any closer." Aerith mused before she walked away from the Prince's side. It was only for a short greeting.

She didn't even make a noise, merely walked closer to where the dragon had settled. Already Nidhogg was lowering his head, rumbling a deep greeting as he nudged at her so gently she didn't even wobble. She uttered a sound of greeting in kind, thankfully one that could be understood — like a squeaky child speaking to an adult. After all her tone was more high pitched.

Then Nidhogg offered the flat of his head. The rumbles from his chest vibrated subtly through the ground when she smoothed her hand over his scales, paying special attention to the base of his horns. He lifted his head up when he had his fill, and his body lowered even more-so, relaxing in the sunlight.

"You have to be nice to Prince Somnus and the chocobos." she uttered, as if Nidhogg understood. She gave him one final little fussing before finally parting, walking away from the dragon much more casually than most would have.

"He has just been fed. I can tell, he only loafs in the sun like that when he has a full belly. Otherwise he'd be more active." Good thing that wasn't the case. Though she supposed her Uncle only left them knowing that his scaled son was in a lazier mood.

[onebadassunicorn]

All I Want Is You

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: argument/fighting, implied affair/cheating, angst

word count: 3.8k

Taglist: @firefly-forest @salvatoresister1 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @batboyslutt @tiredsleepyhead

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

******

Chapter 7

Azriel POV

Azriel stepped into their home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the rooms in dim, golden light. His leathers were torn, his knuckles bloodied, and his body a tapestry of fresh bruises and aching muscles. His shadows clung to him tightly, darker and heavier than usual, mirroring the storm inside him.

Y/n looked up from where she had been tidying the living room, her heart stopping at the sight of him. She was used to seeing Azriel bloodied and worn after missions, but something about his posture tonight—the tension in his shoulders, the way his wings drooped—told her this was worse than usual.

“Azriel,” she said softly, setting aside the book she had been holding and crossing the room to him.

He didn’t speak, his golden-hazel eyes meeting hers briefly before flicking away. His shadows flickered as if unsure whether to draw her closer or keep her at a distance. She reached for him anyway, her hand gently cupping his jaw.

“You’re hurt,” she murmured, her thumb brushing over the stubble on his cheek.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice rough and low. But his eyes betrayed him, the weight of the mission, the memories it had stirred, etched into their depths.

She didn’t press him. She knew better than anyone how Azriel dealt with his demons. He would tell her when he was ready. For now, he just needed her presence, her grounding touch.

“Come with me,” she said softly, taking his hand and leading him toward the bathroom.

******

Azriel POV

She filled the tub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil to soothe his frayed nerves. Azriel stood silently, his gaze fixed on the floor as she moved around him, her movements calm and steady. She helped him remove his leathers, her hands gentle as she peeled the bloodied fabric from his bruised skin.

When the tub was ready, she turned to him. “Get in,” she said softly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Azriel obeyed, sinking into the water with a soft sigh. He rested his head against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes as the warmth seeped into his aching body. She moved to leave, intending to give him some space, but as she turned, his hand shot out, wrapping gently around her wrist.

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a vulnerability that made her heart ache. “Sit with me.”

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. She climbed into the tub in front of him, settling herself between his legs. Azriel immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

He exhaled deeply, his breath warm against her neck. “You’re all I need right now,” he whispered, his voice rough but soft.

Y/n relaxed into him, her hands resting over his arms as his shadows curled around them protectively. She could feel the tension in his body begin to ease as he breathed her in, his nose brushing against her hair.

For a long while, they sat in silence, the warmth of the water and the closeness of their bodies washing away the edges of his pain. She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t push for explanations. She simply was—a steady, grounding presence in the storm of his mind.

********

Azriel POV

When the water began to cool, she helped him out of the tub, grabbing a towel to gently dry him off. Her touch was soft and unhurried, her fingers lingering on the bruises and cuts as if she could heal them with her care alone. Azriel stood still, letting her tend to him, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with more emotion than those two words should carry.

She looked up at him, her lips curving into a small smile. “Always.”

Once he was dry, she led him to their bedroom. Azriel climbed into bed, pulling her down with him. As soon as she settled under the covers, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. He curled his body around hers, his wings draping protectively over them both.

Burying his face in her hair and shoulder, he breathed her in deeply, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room. “I love you, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. “More than anything. More than the stars, the shadows, or anything else in this world. You’re my anchor. My light.”

Tears stung her eyes at the raw sincerity in his words, and she reached up to rest her hand over his. “I love you too,” she whispered.

Azriel tightened his hold on her, his breath steadying as the storm inside him finally began to settle as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together in the quiet sanctuary of their love.

********

Y/n POV

The tension had been building for days, simmering just beneath the surface of every interaction between Azriel and you. It was in the way he lingered longer on missions, the way his shadows seemed more restless than usual, and the way your patience was wearing thin under the weight of his silence.

That evening, the storm finally broke.

Azriel stepped into your cottage, his leathers dusty and his expression tight. His shadows coiled around him, alive with the tension he carried. You stood by the window, your arms crossed and your face set in a storm of your own.

“You’re late again,” you said, your voice steady but laced with frustration.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I told you I’d be back when I could. I didn’t realize we were keeping score now.”

“That’s not fair,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “This isn’t about keeping score. It’s about you constantly shutting me out. You’re always late these days. Do you even realize how hard this is? For me? For the children?”

His shadows flickered in response to your rising tone, swirling defensively. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m doing my job, Y/n. You knew what you were getting into when we started this.”

Your eyes flashed with hurt. “I knew you had responsibilities. I knew you’d be busy. But I didn’t sign up to be left in the dark while you bury yourself in missions and avoid your family.”

Azriel’s golden-hazel eyes burned as he turned to face you. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m protecting you—protecting all of you—from things you don’t need to know.”

“Protecting me?” You scoffed, your voice breaking. “From what? From you? I don’t need protection, Azriel—I need a partner. Someone who lets me in, who doesn’t leave me in the dark while he carries everything alone.”

Azriel took a step back, his shadows retreating slightly. “I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “I’ve spent centuries keeping people safe by keeping them away from the darkness. It’s what I am, Y/n.”

“Then you need to figure out who you are with me,” you said, tears brimming in your eyes. “Because this—this distance—it’s breaking us.”

Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, his shadows swirling wildly now. He opened his mouth as if to speak but stopped himself, his expression hardening.

“I can’t do this right now,” he said, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion.

“Azriel, don’t you dare—” You started, your voice trembling with both anger and desperation.

But he was already moving toward the door, his wings flaring slightly as he turned back to you. “I need air,” he said, his tone clipped. “Before I say something I’ll regret.”

And then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him.

You stood frozen for a moment, the weight of his absence crushing you. Tears slipped down your cheeks as you sank onto the couch, your arms wrapping around yourself. The silence of the room was deafening, your heart aching with the space he’d left behind.

You curled up on the couch, clutching a pillow to your chest and cried yourself to sleep.

*******

Y/n POV

The change in Azriel had been gradual at first—small things you had tried to brush aside. He began staying out later, his shadows more restless than usual, his answers clipped and evasive when you asked where he had been. He smiled less, touched you less, and the loving warmth that had always existed between you both began to cool.

At first, you told yourself it was the pressure of his work. Azriel had always carried his burdens quietly, and you had learned to give him space when he needed it. But as the days turned into weeks, you couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

He was pulling away.

And then there was Elain.

The soft-spoken woman had always been around, a friend to the Inner Circle and a beacon of warmth in her own way. You had never felt threatened by her—until now. You began to notice how Azriel’s shadows seemed calmer when Elain was near, how he lingered in her presence, how his eyes softened in a way they hadn’t for you in months.

The final straw came when Rhysand pulled Azriel aside during a meeting at the River House. You hadn’t been there, but Cassian had told you what Rhysand had said.

“You’re about to screw up the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” Rhys had warned, his voice low and filled with uncharacteristic anger. “Y/n is your mate, Azriel. Not Elain. The Cauldron doesn’t make mistakes. You’re letting your doubts poison everything you’ve built, and I won’t stand by and watch you destroy your family.”

But Azriel hadn’t listened.

When Azriel didn’t return home that night, your worst fears were confirmed. You stayed up all night, pacing the floors of your shared home, your thoughts spiraling into dark places. Azriella and Eryan had fallen asleep in your bed, their tiny bodies curled up around you as if sensing your distress.

By dawn, you couldn’t take it anymore. You dressed quickly, gathered the children, and winnowed to the House of Wind.

********

Y/n POV

The House of Wind was quiet, the usual bustling energy of the Inner Circle absent. You moved through the halls with determination, your heart pounding in her chest. You carried Eryan on your hip, while Azriella walked beside you, clutching your hand.

“Where’s Daddy?” Azriella asked, her wide eyes filled with confusion.

“We’re going to find him, sweetheart,” You said, your voice trembling but steady.

It didn’t take you long to find Elain’s room. The faint sound of muffled voices—and something else—came from behind the closed door.

Your heart stopped.

You pushed the door open without knocking, the sight before you hitting you like a physical blow.

Azriel and Elain were tangled together in the bed, their bodies bare and entwined. Elain was on top of Azriel, riding him while he gazed up at her, caressing her breasts. Elain’s soft gasps filled the air, and Azriel’s shadows flickered faintly around them. It was clear they had been at this all night.

You felt the world tilt beneath your feet. “Azriel,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Both Azriel and Elain froze, their eyes snapping to the doorway. Azriel’s golden-hazel eyes widened in shock and horror as he saw you standing there, Eryan in your arms and Azriella clutching your leg.

“Baby, I—” Azriel began, his voice hoarse.

But you didn’t let him finish. “Don’t,” you said, your voice trembling with fury and heartbreak. “Don’t you dare try to explain this.”

Rhysand and Cassian appeared moments later, clearly having sensed the commotion. When they saw what was happening, both men froze.

“Mother above,” Rhysand muttered, his voice low and deadly.

Cassian’s face twisted in rage. “What the hell, Azriel?” he snarled, stepping into the room.

Azriel scrambled off the bed, reaching for you. “I can explain—”

“Explain?” Your voice rose, your tears spilling over as you backed away. “You spent all night with her, Azriel! While your children were asking where you were, you were here.”

Rhysand’s expression darkened, and his power radiated through the room. “Azriel,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “Get dressed. Now.”

Cassian looked as though he was moments away from punching Azriel. His hands clenched into fists as he turned to you. “Do you want me to take you and the kids somewhere else?”

You shook your head, your legs trembling beneath you. “I’ll take care of it,” you said, your voice cracking. You turned to Azriel, your eyes blazing with fury and pain. “You’ve made your choice. Don’t come home.”

With that, you winnowed away, your heart shattering into pieces as you clutched your children tightly.

********

Azriel POV

The silence that followed her departure was deafening. Azriel stood there, his face pale, his shadows writhing around him in chaos.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Rhysand demanded, his voice sharp and filled with disappointment.

“I…” Azriel’s voice faltered, his eyes darting to Elain, who looked stricken. “I thought… I thought the Cauldron got it wrong.”

“Got it wrong?” Cassian roared, stepping closer. “Y/n is your mate! Your mate, Azriel. And you just threw her and your children away for—her?” He stopped himself, his gaze cutting to Elain.

Rhysand’s power rippled dangerously through the room. “You’d better hope she forgives you,” he said coldly. “Because if she doesn’t, you’ve lost everything.”

Azriel sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, the weight of his actions crashing down on him.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel stepped into their home, his shadows unusually subdued, curling tightly around him as if sensing the storm brewing in his chest. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the walls, but the house was eerily silent.

Too silent.

The usual sounds of laughter, tiny feet running through the halls, or Y/n humming softly in the kitchen were gone. The warmth he had always associated with this space felt drained, leaving behind a cold, hollow shell.

“Baby?” he called out, his voice echoing through the empty rooms.

No answer.

Azriel moved through the house, his heart beginning to pound. The living room was untouched, but something was missing—the toys that usually cluttered the space were gone. He opened the door to Azriella and Eryan’s shared room and felt his chest constrict. The beds were made, but the shelves that once held their favorite books and toys were empty.

His shadows darted anxiously around the room, reflecting the panic rising in him.

“Y/n!” he shouted again, his voice breaking this time.

He rushed into their bedroom, but it, too, was empty. Her clothes were gone, the small trinkets she kept on her nightstand missing. The sight of the barren space made his knees buckle, and he sank to the floor, his hands clutching his hair.

She was gone.

They were gone.

Azriel’s shadows swirled wildly around him, a chaotic reflection of the turmoil inside him. He had done this. He had driven her away.

His eyes fell on a piece of paper folded neatly on the table. With shaking hands, he picked it up, unfolding it to reveal her handwriting.

Azriel,

You told me everything I needed to know this morning. I won’t let myself—or our children—be second to anyone. You’ve made your choice, and I’ve made mine.

Don’t look for us. Don’t contact us.

I hope you enjoyed your time fucking Elain. I hope it was worth losing everything.

Y/n

The paper slipped from his hands as he stared blankly at it, her words cutting into him like the sharpest blade.

His mate.

His family.

Gone.

Azriel stumbled to his feet, his chest heaving as he tried to steady himself. The weight of his actions crashed down on him fully for the first time. He had pushed her away, thinking he was following some misguided truth, and in doing so, he had lost everything that mattered.

He stood in the center of the empty house, the silence deafening. His shadows swirled sluggishly around him, as if even they had lost their strength. He clenched his fists, his golden-hazel eyes burning with tears he refused to shed.

He thought of Azriella’s laugh, the way her wings fluttered excitedly whenever she saw him. He thought of Eryan’s quiet, thoughtful questions, the way he always reached for his hand. He thought of his mate—her fiery spirit, her unwavering love, and the way she had always been his light in the darkness.

And he had destroyed it all.

Azriel sank onto the couch, his head in his hands as the enormity of his loss consumed him. For centuries, he had lived in shadows, and for the first time, he realized he had let those shadows blind him to the light he had been given.

“Mother above,” he whispered, his voice broken. “What have I done?”

But the house remained silent, offering no answers, no solace.

Just the crushing weight of his own regret.

********

Y/n POV

You jolted awake, your chest heaving as you sat upright in the couch. Your heart pounded like a war drum, the echoes of your nightmare clinging to you like a second skin. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for him—for Azriel—but the cottage was empty.

The dream had felt so real. The look in Azriel’s eyes as he held Elain in his arms, her straddling him as he fucked her, the moans she made, the look he gave her as she rode him, the devastation of coming home to an empty house, the note that cut your soul to ribbons—it all replayed in your mind, sharp and vivid. Tears streamed down your face as you clutched your knees to your chest.

“Azriel,” you whispered into the empty room, your voice trembling.

The front door creaked open. You heard the soft rustle of boots on the floor, the faint hum of his shadows reaching out to you as if sensing your distress.

“Y/n?” Azriel called softly, his voice carrying through the quiet house.

You couldn’t stop the sob that escaped your lips. A moment later, Azriel was in the living room, his golden-hazel eyes filled with concern as he took in the sight of you, trembling and tear-streaked. His shadows curled around you protectively, like they, too, were trying to soothe you.

“Baby,” he murmured, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “What’s wrong?”

You launched yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from whatever had hurt you.

“I had a dream,” you choked out, your voice muffled against his shirt. “It was awful, Azriel. You left, and—and you were with Elain. I walked into her room, and you were fucking her. The way you looked at her...You… you chose her over me and the kids. And then we were gone, and you came back to an empty house, and I—”

Your words broke into another sob, your body trembling in his embrace.

Azriel’s heart shattered at the pain in your voice. He tilted your face up, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice steady and warm, “look at me.”

Your tear-filled eyes met his, and he cupped your face with both hands, his shadows still swirling around them like a cocoon.

“Baby,” he began, his voice thick with emotion, “that was just a dream. A terrible, awful dream. But it’s not real. It will never be real.”

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “It felt so real, Azriel. I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you."

He pressed his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’ll never lose me,” he whispered, his voice breaking with the weight of his words. “Do you hear me, baby? Never. You are the love of my life. My mate. The one thing I waited for, longed for, prayed for, for centuries.”

Your lips quivered as you listened, your hands clutching his tunic tightly.

“I have spent my life in shadows, baby,” Azriel continued, his golden eyes locking onto yours. “And then you came along, and you were my light. You gave me a family, a home, a reason to believe I could be something more. There is no one else for me. Not Elain. Not anyone. Only you. Always you.”

Your tears began to slow as his words sank in, your chest heaving as you clung to him. “You mean it?” you whispered, your voice small and vulnerable.

Azriel leaned in, his lips brushing over yours in a kiss so tender it made your heart ache. “I mean it,” he murmured. “I would never sacrifice what we have, what we’ve built, for anyone else. You are my everything, baby. You, Azriella, and Eryan—you’re my world. Nothing else matters.”

You nodded, her fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. “I love you,” you whispered. “I’m sorry I doubted—”

“No,” he interrupted gently. “You’ve been through so much, and I haven’t made it easy. And then me leaving earlier when we were arguing didn't help. But we’ll get through this together. I’ll never let anything come between us, baby. I swear it.”

Your lips trembled as he leaned in, capturing them with his own. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, a bridge between the hurt and the healing. But it deepened, your emotions spilling over as you both clung to each other.

Azriel scooped you into his arms, carrying you to your shared bed. His hands traced your skin as if committing you to memory all over again, his lips murmuring apologies and promises against your neck. You responded in kind, your touch reassuring him that you were still there, still his.

Your lovemaking was slow, deliberate, and full of emotion—a reaffirmation of your bond, your love, and your commitment to each other. When it was over, Azriel held you tightly, his face buried in your hair.

“I’ll do better,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I’ll let you in, baby. No more walls, no more running away from arguments.”

“I trust you,” you replied, your hand resting over his heart. “We’ll figure this out together.”

He held you close as you finally began to relax, your breathing evening out as the nightmare faded into memory. Azriel kissed your hair, whispering soft reassurances until your tears were completely gone.

As you both laid in your bed, your head resting on his chest, Azriel’s arms remained tight around you. His shadows danced gently around you both, their protective embrace a silent promise that the light you both shared would never be extinguished.

And as you drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, the shadows and light found harmony once more.

Chapter 8

[darksigns-exe]

still alive for you - noah sebastian x bee (ofc)

warnings: a little angst

word count: 1.3k

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Noah’s not there when she wakes up. 

It’s not entirely unusual. 

Noah’s somewhat prone to waking up in the middle of the night. And, either lured from bed by some creative force or held back from sleep by his own mind, he’ll wander to a different part of the house. 

Bee lies in silence for a moment, before she decides to bring him back up here. 

It’s barely three and he needs the rest. 

And really, she wants him back in bed. She always sleeps better when he’s by her side. 

Bee pulls one of Noah’s sweaters on before she steps out into the hallway. 

For once, the house is quiet. They’ve been slaving away at the album, and it’s obvious that they’re all a little worn down. 

She tiptoes past Nick's sleeping form on the sofa. Somehow he manages to look somewhat comfortable. Maybe she’ll drop off one of her extra pillows later, she can’t bear the sight of him sleeping on the throw cushions. 

She doesn’t find Noah in the studio. Usually, he’s there, saving whatever idea had popped into his head before it would disappear forever. Instead, she finds him out in the backyard. 

He doesn’t immediately notice her.

His focus seems to be entirely on a piece of paper. It’s mostly obscured by his hands, but even then, Bee couldn’t decipher a word from this distance even if she tried. 

“Noah?”

His body jolts, obviously caught off guard. The paper slips into the pocket of his sweats, as his head snaps towards her. 

“What’re you doing up?”

Bee makes her way over to him. Her hand drifts through his hair. She still isn’t entirely used to how short it is now. 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

His head tips back until he can look at her. 

“Couldn’t sleep.”

She sits down next to him on the lounge chair, and Noah immediately drops his head to her shoulder. 

“Something keeping you up?”

“I don’t know. Just a lot of thoughts.” He mumbles, “I’m worried about the album, you know? It’s different. What if they don’t like it?”

Bee presses a kiss to his temple. 

Seeing him so worried about his breaks her heart a little. Noah has poured so much of himself into this album that her heart aches a little. 

“I’m sure they’ll love it.” Her hand comes to rest just above his knee, “You wanna come back upstairs with me? We can watch another episode of that documentary we started.”

Noah remains silent and Bee figures that he wants quiet first and foremost. 

“Do you want to be alone?” She asks softly. 

He shakes his head, “Stay. Please?”

“I’m just gonna get us a blanket, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Bee presses a final kiss to the top of his head before she slips back into the house. She fetches one of the blankets from the living room. She picks up a bottle of water too, just to be sure. 

When she comes back outside, Noah still seems somewhat lost in his thoughts. She drapes the blanket over his shoulders. Noah looks up at her with soft eyes. 

He pulls the fabric from his shoulders, as he lies back. Bee follows his silent invitation to curl up against him. She arranges herself along his side and Noah waits patiently before he covers them both with the blanket. Her head finds an easy home against his chest and as if rehearsed, Noah’s arm curls around her body. 

Bee feels his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. 

Once in a while, she feels his fingers pulse against her ribs, but other than that, he’s entirely still. 

There’s something unspoken between them, Bee can tell from the hesitant look that has settled onto his face in recent days. She doesn’t know what’s stopping him from saying whatever is on his mind, but she hopes that he’ll eventually find the bravery to say it. 

Bee has to quiet that nagging little voice in the back of her head that keeps trying to tell her that he’s preparing to break-up with her. It’s not fair to him – or to herself. 

She’s never loved anyone more than she loves him, and she’s sure that he feels similar. At least, she hopes so. 

They’ll figure out a way to deal with whatever is worrying him. 

They always do. 

So far, they’ve always managed to figure their problems out. 

She doesn’t like seeing him like this. Sure, he gets quiet sometimes, but this is a different kind of quiet. It’s heavy, almost like the kind of quiet that would linger over him when they met. 

“You’d tell me if something was up, right?” Bee asks quietly. 

Noah stiffens under her, and for a brief moment, she thinks that he’s about to share what is weighing him down. 

“Sure.” he lies, “It’s just the album. It’s a lot to worry about.” 

It does sting a little, and Bee is glad that he can’t see her frown. She’s sure that he has a good reason to keep this to himself. 

“Okay. If there’s something I can do, just tell me. I can write e-mails for you or something.” 

Noah lets out a chuckle, “I might hold you to that. You’re better at business talk than I am.” 

��I know.” 

He pulls her closer against him, and Bee lets her hand wander to the other side of his body.

Bee lets the silence wrap around them for a while. She’s so very content here when he holds her like this. She could spend hours just resting next to him, with not a word exchanged between them. 

Their silence has always been comfortable, and she suddenly finds herself reminded of the night they met. It had been right on this very porch, maybe two years ago now. Their first year had been a right mess, but they’d managed to make up for the time they’d lost. Sometimes Bee wonders where they’d be if they’d been a little bit better at talking about their feelings. But maybe then everything would be so different that it wouldn’t be them anymore. 

“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?” Noah asks after a while, “I can pick you up after your classes.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” she pokes her foot against his leg, hoping to get a little laugh out of him. 

Thankfully, Noah gives her just that, although it feels awfully stilted. 

She decides that she needs to hear him laugh wholeheartedly then. And before he gets the chance to actually reply to her, she shoves her hand under his shirt. Her fingers find that ticklish spot at his side. It doesn’t make much to get a genuine giggle out of him. Before long, Noah’s hands find their way under her own shirt, in search of retaliation. He’s relentless, and he only stops when Bee almost topples off the lounge chair. 

“Peace?” Noah asks, sounding rather breathless. 

“Peace.” 

Bee shifts herself upwards, moving herself on top of him. She brushes her fingers across his cheek and in return, he gives her a soft smile. 

“I would love lunch.” 

“Good. I’ll pick you up after your classes. Do you want to go somewhere specific?”

“Surprise me?” 

“I can do that.” 

She leans down to place a kiss against his lips. 

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

Noah’s hand comes to rest against the back of her neck to bring her down for another kiss, “Then it’s a date. You wanna head upstairs?” 

Back in bed, Noah wraps himself around her again. Bee shuffles back against him, sighing when his hold on her tightens just a bit more. Exhaustion has once again captured her, and she feels herself drifting off once again. 

Noah presses a kiss to her bare shoulder. 

“I love you so much.” he whispers. 

Bee tangles their fingers together, “I love you.”

She thinks that he looks a little less worried then, a little less as if he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. She’ll keep chipping away at him and when he’s ready, he’ll tell her what’s worrying him. He’s been so very patient with her, so it’s only fair that Bee shows him the same kind of patience. 

She settles against him, comfortable in his hold. 

She’s safe here. 

They’re safe here.

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[fanwarriorfictions]

Help Me, Help You - Part Fourteen

Fenrys x f!Reader

Summary- Fenrys and Y/n take some time to themselves and cross a pivotal line in their relationship

Warnings- Possessive Fenrys, spice and smut(oral f! receiving), angst, there is conversation of Fenrys’s SA trauma, not to detailed, everyone’s healing journey is different and this may not be an accurate portrayal of how one may deal with trauma like his

Series Masterlist

Part Fourteen

      Y/n is sitting on the edge of the small bed, braiding her freshly washed hair when Fenrys finally returns. His eyes narrow in on her, on where she’s sitting, instantly, and they’re dark with that emotion she’s come to recognize as need. 

   Her body heats at the memory of his hands on her hips, on her thighs. The way he’d held her there, looking up at her like she was the moon in the sky. She could still feel that kiss he’d pressed to her shoulder, the way she’d had to force herself not to tilt her head and expose her sensitive neck to him. 

   “What took you so long?” She ignores the slight breathy tone to her voice, “Did you have to cook the poor thing yourself?”

   Fenrys chuckles and shakes his head, crossing the distance between them, “Your brother wanted to have a little chat.”

   Like a bucket of cold water dumped over her head, all the heat drains from her body. She hadn’t forgotten, the way Vaughan had held her heart in his hand and tore it apart with three words, no I wasn’t. She’d simply let herself be distracted by Fenrys and the way he could ignite her blood with a simple touch. 

   “What did he say?”

   Fenrys sits beside her, settling their plates between them. Her stomach grumbles at the smell of the spiced meat. 

   “Eat,” Fenrys says, picking up his own plate. 

   A different sort of heat lights in her veins at the order, similar to the first days of their journey, annoyance and a flash of anger.

   “What did he say,” she says, not a question anymore, a demand. 

   He looks at her, a small grin forming on his lips at the expression on her face, “I like it when you’re angry, kitten.”

   Fenrys turns to his food, tearing a large piece of meat off the bone, shoving it into his mouth. He groans at the taste, and Y/n vehemently ignores the way that makes her feel. 

   She swipes his plate from his hands, setting it on the small table beside the bed. Fenrys shouts in protest but his eyes are lit with humor and mischief. 

   “You can have that back when you tell me what my brother said,” she snaps, putting her own plate beside his so he doesn’t just steal it. 

   She shifts, sitting on the bed with her legs tucked beneath her so that she’s completely facing the male. Y/n waves him on, giving him a hard look that promises hell if he doesn’t start talking. 

   Fenrys sighs, “Oh you know, big brother stuff, stay away from my sister or I’ll kill you. Or something like that, I didn’t stay for long. I told him I had much better stuff to do with you waiting in my bed.”

   “You did not,” Y/n hisses, slapping his chest when he laughs, “Fenrys he’s going to think that we’re-“

   The words catch in her throat imagining all the things they could be doing in this bed and he winks at her when her face flushes. He made it sound like she’d be here naked, waiting for him, aching for him. Somehow it wasn’t far from the truth.

   He captures her hand as it comes back down for another blow, holding it firmly to his chest, “Let him think whatever he wants, kitten.”

   “Fenrys you don’t understand,” Y/n groans, trying and failing to pull her hand away, “He nearly killed the first male I’d been with.”

   His grip on her tightens in response, keeping her hand pressed against him, “First, I can handle your brother if he’s dumb enough to attack me. Second, is that male still breathing?”

   Y/n raises a brow at him, “What?”

   “Is he the one who stole your first kiss?”

   Stole, as if that kiss didn’t belong to the nameless male she hadn’t seen since her brother had ran him out of town. Vaughan had beaten the blacksmith near death, making him vow to never speak of her to anyone ever again. Part of that had been because he was her brother and he was insanely overprotective, and part had been because the male was a demi-fae capable of earning passage into Doranelle.

   “He didn’t steal anything,” she snaps, tugging once again at her hand that he refuses to let go, “I let him-“

   Fenrys lets out a near animalistic growl, cutting her off, “I wish your brother had killed him.”

   There’s a familiar expression on his face, she’d seen it when she’d told him of her first kiss and back in Antica. Jealous, it hits her then, Fenrys was gods damned jealous of the blacksmith like he had been of Kashin.

   “Gods you insufferable male.” Again, she pulls at her hand, again he keeps it pinned to the muscle above his heart. “You’re seriously jealous of a male I slept with nearly a century ago.”

   His growl vibrates through her, and there’s a small, dangerous voice in her head that tells her to push him. She’d ignored it the last time, when she’d felt him hard beneath her, held back by their companions sleeping only a few feet away from them. This time, she pushed. 

   “Is your ego so easily bruised?” Instead of pulling on the hand he has trapped, she shoves, finding him to be an immovable piece of stone. “First Kashin, now this. The mere idea of someone bringing me pleasure, of touching me, of fucking-“

     Suddenly he’s no longer holding her hand to his chest, but tugging her whole body against him. Fenrys moves her so fast, as if he’d used his power to rip her through time and space to place her on his lap, her thighs straddling his own. His hands are on her waist, holding her in place against him.

   “Do not finish that sentence,” he warns.

   “Does it really bother you so much?” Y/n tries to keep herself in check, to not lose this battle of wills, “That someone kissed me before you? That the same male fucked me before you?”

   His mouth collides with hers, no gentleness, only raging passion. They move against each other, both desperate to win this battle. His sharp canine drags over her bottom lip, biting down just hard enough to make her gasp, and then he’s trailing his lips across her jaw and down the side of her neck. She doesn’t fight it this time, tilting her head back, exposing the entire expanse of her neck to him. She is completely vulnerable like this, he could easily tear her throat out with his teeth, yet he only worships her with his mouth. 

   “Yes,” he says against her skin, kissing the spot on her neck that has her seeing stars, “It bothers me a lot that another male has had you like this, it shouldn’t but it does.”

   She wants to tell him that no one has ever had her like this, had her like he does, panting and writhing with need. The blacksmith had satisfied her, had quelled that ache, but it’d been nothing more. This, with Fenrys, was so much more than pleasure. But she can’t say anything, can’t draw out the words past the sighs and moans falling past her lips.

   “It bothers me,” Fenrys continues, paying that spot on her neck extra attention between words, “That I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else, that I crave you every hour of the day, that I want to touch you and please you despite everything that has been done to me.”

   She can feel it, that last bit of darkness he’d yet to explore with her, the one that sat beneath his remaining scar, much deeper than anything else. Y/n wants to pull away, to give him the full attention he deserves, but Fenrys doesn’t let her. She can feel the sharpness of his teeth as he closes his mouth around her pulse point, drawing a whine from her as he just barely bites down, not enough to make her bleed, but enough to make her moan his name.

   He pulls away with a groan, just far enough that he can look her in the eye as he says, “It bothers me that I am scared, scared that I won’t be able to give you what you need, what you deserve, scared that I am not ready after everything she did, what she forced me to do.”

   It hits her like a sword through her gut, “Fenrys-“

   He shakes his head, lifting a hand to her cheek, “I haven’t wanted this, to touch anyone like this, not after her. And then you found me, and those eyes saw everything I am and you didn’t shy away from all the broken and bleeding parts of me. I haven’t wanted anyone the way I want you, haven’t felt that raging jealousy for anyone the way I do when your arm is around a prince’s instead of my own. So yeah, the idea of a male fucking you drives me crazy.”

   He’s back at her neck, his hands tracing over her hips and her thighs and her back and it’s all so overwhelming.

   “Fen-“ She’s gasping his name, unable to do much else but hold onto him, “I- gods.”

   “What do you need, kitten.” He pulls back to look at her again, “Tell me what you need.”

   Gods what did she need? She needs him to stop teasing her, needs to feel his skin beneath her palms and not covered by his layers of leathers, she needs him more than anything and she can’t think, can’t breathe.

   “I- slow down,” she gasps.

   He stops instantly, his hands settling on her sides, a light gentle pressure that keeps her just on the edge of dizziness. Fenrys watches her with furrowed brows and she can tell it is taking a lot of his self control to keep from moving against her. He waits for her to speak and it takes her several breaths before she can even think coherently.

   “You don’t have to,” she finally says.

   “I want to,” he groans, his hands tightening on her waist.

   She reaches for his face, cradling him between her palms, “You don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

   Y/n trails a finger over the scar above his brow, her power begging to be let out, to take that final piece of it, to heal him. But she could only take the surface level of the pain, not the darkness beneath it. The darkness she now knew, the darkness Maeve had caused. She didn’t need to know the details to know what he had been forced to do for the queen, she could connect the dots easily.

   “Please,” he whispers, letting his head fall to rest against hers, “I won’t let her take everything from me.”

   Y/n whispers, “She won’t, she can’t.”

   “I want to,” Fenrys says, his hand on her side gripping her shirt, “I want to be worthy of you.”

   She leans into him, feeling every desperate desire they held for each other, as if she could feel his right there besides hers. Y/n lifts his face to her own, kissing him, pouring every ounce of emotion into their lips until she is panting and aching.

   “You have me,” she gasps against him.

   And its like a damn is broken within him, the hands gripping her shirt pull, wrenching the fabric up her torso, exposing her skin to the chilled air around them. And she barely has the time to gasp his name before his mouth is on her, exploring her skin with his tongue and teeth, over her collarbone, down the valley of her breast. His hands exploring every inch of her, and if she thought it had felt good before, it is even better without cloth between his palms and her feverish skin. 

   She is practically purring when his mouth finally ghosts over her breast, and she cries out when his lips close over the sensitive peak, his tongue swirling around her nipple. Her hips move of their own volition, grinding down on his lap where she can feel the hard length of him pressed against her core. Fenrys groans and the vibration is nearly too much.

   “Fenrys please.” She has no idea what she’s begging for, whatever he’s willing to give her, “Gods please.”

   He knows what she needs, like he could read her mind and decipher the muddled mess of her brain. Fenrys shifts, lifting her with him effortlessly, turning to lay her back down on the small mattress and then he is kissing down her body leaving her writhing and moaning. And when he finds the seam of her pants, his hands are instantly tugging the material down her thighs, her panties with it, leaving her completely bare to him.

   “Fuck,” he groans, sitting back to just look at her, his onyx eyes so impossibly dark, “You’re so perfect.”

   Having his gaze on her, so heavy, while he was still completely clothed, had her trying to cover herself. Again, as if he understands exactly what she is feeling, his hands work open the laces of his flight leathers, tearing the material over his head, the undershirt with it. Y/n marvels at the golden brown expanse of his skin, the rigid muscle beneath. Yes she’d appreciated him shirtless before, but not like this. She reaches between them and her fingers trace each hard line of him, all the way down to the waistline of his leathers, pulling helplessly at the laces, wanting to see the length of him that is straining in the material.

   “So needy,” he laughs, taking her hands and guiding them to her sides, “I have other plans for you.”

   “Please,” she gasps, straining against his hands restraining her own, “I want to touch you.”

   “You will,” he says, and there’s an edge to his tone like he wants to give into her, “I’ve been imagining this for to long now, I’m going to take my time with you.”

   The ache between her thighs is nearly painful at that point and she doesn’t care what he does as long as he touches her there. Her body moves on its own, her legs falling open as she stares up at him, waiting to see his reaction to her vulnerability. The way his eyes fall to her center, drinking her in, almost has her coming undone right then without him even touching her.

   “Beautiful, kitten,” Fenrys says, his voice low and breathy, “So fucking beautiful.”

   He leans down to press his lips against her naval, trailing those fiery kisses further and further down, going right past where she wants him to the soft skin of her thigh. Her hips chase him and he pins her beneath a single strong arm, his other pushing her thighs further apart so he can settle between them, his mouth so close to her that she can feel each heavy breath leave his lips. She’s on fire, burning so hot as if she were a living flame stoked to life by him, and when he finally leans in, tasting her for the first time, she nearly combusts.

   “Fenrys,” she gasps, her hands finding the golden strands of his hair, needing to hold onto something to keep her from falling into oblivion.

   He is lost in her, groaning as he licks her from her entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves above. Fenrys closes his lips around her and it’s the most intense wave of pleasure she has ever felt. Not even her own fingers had felt like this, he knows exactly how to press his tongue against her to draw out the moans and screams that surely leak through the door and into the aerie beyond. She doesn’t care who hears her, she can’t think of anything beyond him.

   Each stroke of his tongue brings her closer and closer to the peak of her pleasure. Her hands grip his hair, pulling as if she could get him closer, have more of him, and he groans against her, the feeling is so intense that she does it again. The hand on her leg comes between them and she cries out when his fingers swipe through her arousal, she screams when a single finger dips into her and curls against a spot inside of her she hadn’t even known about.

   “Fuck,” she cries out, feeling herself go higher and higher, so close to that breaking point, “Please, gods, I’m so- fuck.”

   She can’t form the words to tell him but he knows, can feel her tightening around him, every muscle in her body going taut in desperation. Fenrys is relentless in his pace, his mouth and his fingers expertly working her until it snaps, that coil in her belly releasing in a brilliant wave of pleasure. Y/n cries his name as she falls from that peak, her body writhing and shaking with the power of it, and Fenrys is right there to catch her, letting her ride out each aftershock until she falls completely limp beneath him. Only then does he pull away, looking up at her with dark onyx eyes full of pride and desire, his lips shining as they pull up into a satisfied grin.

   “You taste better than I’d dreamed,” Fenrys says, and her core tightens when he licks his lips, as if she had been a grand feast gifted to a starving male.

   Y/n can barely draw words to her lips, “You’ve dreamed of me?”

   Fenrys nods, crawling over her whispering the words against her lips, “I’ve been dreaming of you since that first night in Antica, dreaming of you in that little towel, dreaming of licking the beads of water off of your thighs.”

   Despite her exhaustion, the words have her clenching her thighs to relieve some of the ache. Fenrys captures her lips in a slow sensual kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue and she moans into his mouth. He takes the sound greedily like he can’t get enough of her, she knows because she feels the same. She needs all of him, her still shaking legs wrap around is hips, pulling so his weight settles on top of her and she can feel him against her core, still covered by his flight leathers.

   “Take them off,” she orders.

   Fenrys chuckles against her lips, but he doesn’t argue. He shifts back, her legs falling apart to let him, and he sits on his heels. Fenrys watches her as he slowly tackles the laces, pulling them apart one by one until she is whining, begging him to hurry up before she loses her mind and rips the material off of him.

   And just when she thinks he is going to put her out of her misery, someone is pounding on their door, hard enough that she thinks the wood may shatter beneath their fist.

   Fenrys growls at the noise, taking the blanket from the bed to cover her. And the answering growl on the other side of the door has her completely frozen in place, clutching the fabric to her chest.

   “You have five seconds to remove yourself from my sister, Moonbeam,” Vaughan shouts through the door, “And then I am going to kill you.”

Tag list -

@emma-andrea1 @mgchaser @anxious-study @lees-chaotic-brain @girl-math-aint-mathing @mali22 @nikt-wazny-y @theworthlessqueen @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @lethargicluv @hannzoaks @batboygirlie @foxysouls @kiarathace @jesskidding3 @raginghellfire 

[skyward-floored]

I’ve been in a Sky mood lately lol. So for prompts maybe something angsty with him? Like him getting used to life after being trapped on the island for years? Or one of the boys trying to reassure themselves that he’s actually back?

I saw this prompt and went HEHEHE I do enjoy me my angst. Especially Incredibles au Sky angst (sorry Sky bdhdbdbdhd)

I sort of mixed your two prompts together? It’s mostly the first one, but there’s hints of the second. And also a different thing entirely XD Enjoy!

(Also warning for a character getting a flashback. It’s seen from an outside perspective, but here’s your warning just in case.)

————————————————————

Sometimes Warriors still couldn’t believe Sky was back.

After over a year of trying to come to terms with his disappearance, wrestling with hope and denial and grief, going to his funeral for Hylia’s sake— having him suddenly come back was... earth-shattering. In a good way, of course, but sometimes Warriors caught himself falling into the pattern of endless questions on what had happened, and had to remind himself that he knew now.

Sky had been tricked, lured away, fought for survival while being hunted within an inch of his life, and then finally made it home alive. Though... not without scars.

Ones that sometimes caught Warriors off guard.

The afternoon it happened, Warriors had stopped at Sky’s to drop off some things he’d borrowed, and ended up staying and talking much longer than he’d intended. He wasn’t complaining though. After thinking he’d never get moments like this again, he’d spend every waking hour with his brother if he could.

“...So then Aryll told me she made a new friend, and asked me if I wanted to meet her, and of course I said yes. I should’ve known better, because five seconds later she whistles, and this huge vulture lands in front of me,” Sky said with a wave of his hand, and Warriors laughed. “I know! Where did she even meet a vulture?!”

“Probably the same place she met those geese that one time,” Warriors said with a grin, and Sky joined his laughter that time.

“Oh I’m sure. She has plenty of bird connections,” he chuckled, leaning back with his wings stretched out on either side of himself. He picked up his glass of water and drank some of it before he continued. “I’m sure she’ll have quite the message system worked out when she’s older.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Warriors smirked. “Heck you won’t even need the mail service if she keeps up like this, just ask her to send letters via pigeon.”

“Hm that’s true... I’d never have to buy stamps again,” Sky said thoughtfully.

“Hey now, don’t forget those stamps help pay my salary,” Warriors grinned. A truck outside beeped as it backed up, and Warriors glanced out the window, before looking back inside. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying... Sky?”

Sky had completely frozen in place, his glass of water slipping from his hand.

Warriors quickly shot out a hand as it hit the floor, freezing the puddle before it could spread, then got off his chair and hurried to Sky’s side. The cup hadn’t broken so he left it where it was, and he looked worriedly at his brother.

“Sky? Are you okay?” he asked urgently, and a tremor wracked through Sky, his eyes glazing over. He’d been fine literal seconds ago, what was wrong? “...Sky?”

“We need to hide,” Sky whispered, his voice hoarse.

Warriors blinked. “What?”

Sky swallowed, shaking as he stared into the middle distance. “We need to hide, they’re coming,” he stressed in a croak, his breathing starting to pick up. “Guardians, they’re close.”

“Sky... there are no guardians here,” Warriors said in confusion, and Sky shook his head, ears twitching.

“There’s one right over there,” he gasped, his breath trembling. “We need to hide, it’s going to—”

“Sky, no there isn’t,” Warriors said slowly, sitting down beside his brother. “There’s nothing there.”

“B-but—” Sky stuttered, twisting his head around to look at the wall. A bead of sweat trailed down his brow. “Yes it is. It is, it’s coming, we need to hide now.”

Sky pulled his wings in close to his body, feathers puffing up, and Warriors looked at him in dismay, unsure of what to do. He knew enough to recognize Sky was having some sort of flashback, but he didn’t know how to help him out of it.

The truck outside beeped again, and Sky violently flinched, nearly falling off the couch as his feathers puffed out even more. Warriors looked between him and the window, then carefully stood and walked over to it, closing it and blocking out the sound. Sky didn’t visibly react to the quiet, and Warriors went back over to him, watching as he trembled in place.

“Sky, we’re not on the island,” Warriors began carefully as he sat back down. “You haven’t been there for weeks now. And I wasn’t ever on the island. How can I be here with you if we’re on the island?”

“I-I...” Sky stammered, his voice faltering. Then he suddenly snatched Warriors’ wrists, eyes huge. “Wars they got you too, you shouldn’t have come, it’s going to be like everyone else,” he choked out, still shaking. “We have to hide!”

Sky began tugging at his wrists, but Warriors resisted the movement, staying where he was. “Sky, there’s no danger.”

“Yes there is! I have a base right over there, we can get to it if we hurry, we can’t let him—”

“Sky, we’re not on the island,” Warriors repeated, slipping his wrists out of Sky’s hold and taking his hands instead. His skin felt clammy. “I promise you we’re not. We’re in your house. We’re safe.”

Sky kept shaking, but he didn’t argue the point, and Warriors felt a flicker of encouragement when he didn’t keep tugging on his hands.

“You’re not back there,” Warriors repeated, and Sky squeezed his eyes shut, another bead of sweat trailing down his brow. “You’re in your house, on the couch in your living room. Sun is at work, and Aryll is taking a nap. Nobody is in any danger.”

Sky trembled in his seat, his eyes still closed tight, and Warriors lightly squeezed his hands, waiting for him to come back. His eyes reopened, still looking glazed, but less so than before.

“Come on Link,” Warriors whispered, looking into Sky’s eyes. “You’re safe here, I promise. Nothing is trying to hurt you.”

Sky swallowed, and Warriors stayed beside him, watching as his feathers slowly began to smooth. Warriors repeated the reassurance that they weren’t on the island, and he kept it up as Sky’s frantic breathing started to even out, and his eyes gradually cleared.

It felt like a long time before Sky’s shoulders slumped, his wings falling limp as he took in a shaky breath. He was still trembling, but much more lightly, and Warriors studied his face.

“You back?” Warriors asked carefully, and Sky looked at his lap, shame coloring his face.

“I... I think so. Sorry,” Sky whispered.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Warriors said easily, but Sky kept looking at his lap, ears red.

Warriors looked at him worriedly, then lightly squeezed his hands, pulling back so he could deal with the frozen puddle on the floor. He easily pried it up and shaped it into a small ball, then set it on the table, looking back at Sky again.

“Hey. I mean it,” Warriors said when he saw his expression, lightly touching Sky’s shoulder, light enough that he could pull away if he wanted. Sky didn’t, and so Warriors held it a bit tighter. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault.”

“I was the one stupid enough to go there,” Sky muttered under his breath, and Warriors frowned.

“Sky, you were tricked. You thought you were doing something good, it’s not your fault,” Warriors repeated, and Sky didn’t meet his eyes. Warriors sighed. “That looked pretty rough. Do you want some water?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Sky said quietly.

Warriors nodded and stood, giving his shoulder a squeeze before he grabbed Sky’s glass and headed to the kitchen to refill it. It only took him a moment, and when he returned, Sky hadn’t moved, still staring at his lap, faintly trembling, wings lightly wrapped around himself.

Warriors passed him the cup, and Sky silently took it, sipping without a word.

“You need anything else?” Warriors asked, and Sky shook his head. Warriors hummed in reply, then paused as he thought of something. It wasn’t Warriors’ go-to, but Sky usually appreciated physical contact much more than him, especially since he’d been back. “...maybe a hug?”

Sky finally looked up, still shaky and pale, and gave a tiny nod.

Warriors gave him a sad smile, then leaned in, wrapping his arms around his brother.

Sky was stiff for a moment, then practically melted into the touch, a wavering sigh coming from him. He pressed his face against Warriors’ shoulder, and Warriors lightly rubbed his back, feeling equally reassured by the touch. He knew Sky had been through a lot, but the blatant show of it had been a bit frightening.

Oh Sky.

“I’m such a disaster,” Sky said in a wobbly voice, and Warriors sighed.

“Anyone would be. Truth be told, I think most of us became disasters while you were gone, so you’re in good company.”

Sky let out a wet snort, and Warriors squeezed him, Sky still shaking just a little.

“Has this happened before?” Warriors asked after a minute, pulling back so he could see Sky’s face, and Sky shrugged.

“Not... to that extent,” he admitted quietly. “There’ve been... things, but not...”

He trailed off weakly, and Warriors nodded. That was about what he’d figured.

“Okay. We’ll figure this out. Just like old times, huh?” Warriors said with a faint smile, and Sky huffed.

“Yeah. Can’t say I miss that side of things,” he mumbled, and Warriors squeezed his arm again.

“I’ll stay until Sun comes back,” he reassured quietly, and Sky nodded, silently resting his head against Warriors’ shoulder again.

Neither of them said much else after that, and Warriors idly played with the piece of ice on the table, Sky watching him quietly as he shaped it into a small bird. Warriors added some ice to it, and worked on shaping it into a slightly bigger one.

Sky stayed silent as he leaned against him, and Warriors tried not to stare, worry clenching in his stomach. Nightmares were common enough between them, though they’d gotten better as the years had gone on. Warriors had practice with those, and panic attacks, and a small list of the other crap they all dealt with after their superhero careers, but this... felt way out of his league.

We’ll figure this out, he promised silently, adding small feathers to the bird he was shaping in his palms. Sky breathed out a weary sigh, and Warriors swallowed.

We will. We’ll figure it out.

[hrizantemy]

Cassian had thought about little else but Nesta since she’d left after Solstice. The silence between them weighed on him, and no matter how much he tried to bury it, his mind would always find its way back to her—her distance, her rejection, the way she avoided him. The others had noticed, and while Feyre had scolded Morrigan for her harsh words to Nesta, it was clear to everyone that Morrigan’s apology hadn’t been genuine. She had moved on from it, but Cassian couldn’t.

Feyre, on the other hand, seemed more hopeful. She was grateful that Nesta had invited her somewhere, even if it was just to a tavern, and Cassian couldn’t help but feel a flicker of resentment. Feyre was desperate for any sign of connection, but Nesta’s invitation felt more like a fragile truce than a real step toward healing.

Elain, ever the quiet observer, had admitted she didn’t feel comfortable going to the tavern. Feyre had been understanding, suggesting they instead go to Nesta’s for dinner, which Elain reluctantly agreed to. But even with the offer, Feyre could tell Elain was still uncomfortable, her unease lingering in the air as they all moved forward, each of them carrying a mix of hope and hesitation.

The days after Cassian had returned from Illyria were a blur, the lingering ache of Nesta’s absence gnawing at him relentlessly. He couldn’t shake the feeling of her—of the emptiness her absence had left behind—and the thought that maybe, just maybe, she was somewhere close, just out of reach.

It wasn’t like him to be consumed by a single thought, but Nesta had changed everything. He had spent weeks trying to keep his mind occupied, pushing away the overwhelming need to track her down, to find where she had gone after leaving the Solstice gathering. But the more he tried to resist, the more the idea took hold of him. He would find her. He would go to the taverns, visit the places where she’d worked, or ask anyone who might know where she lived now.

The desperation to demand an answer, to force her to talk to him, gnawed at him like a hunger he couldn’t appease. But even as he thought about it, a part of him knew it wouldn’t work. Not like this. Not with him demanding answers and trying to impose his will. He had never been good at that with Nesta. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to fix things, to force a conversation, to fix whatever was broken between them.

Yet, even in the depth of his frustration, part of him feared what he might find, what he might hear, and whether he would truly be ready for it. The guilt and the uncertainty clung to him as the days wore on, leaving him wondering if he could even find a way to make things right with the woman who had stolen his heart.

Cassian’s feelings were more complicated than just longing. There was resentment simmering beneath the surface, a bitterness he couldn’t shake. Nesta had healed without them—without him. She had distanced herself further and further, choosing to rebuild her life alone. The thought stung. She had pushed them away, rejecting the very people who had once been her support, and now she stood as someone entirely different. Someone who no longer needed him or any of them.

It was hard for Cassian to watch from the sidelines, unable to help her, to fix things, to even get close. The woman who had once been drowning in her own pain had now found a way to stand tall, to pull herself out of the mess she had been in. She got a job, stopped drinking, and stopped bringing strangers home like she once had. She had paid back every single coin Rhysand had once fronted for her—the tabs she’d racked up in the taverns. It was almost as if she was proving a point, showing them that she could thrive without their help, without their pity.

The transformation was remarkable, but it didn’t feel like victory to him. It felt like defeat. Nesta had done it all on her own, and in doing so, she had forced him to confront how little he had been able to do for her when she needed it most. She had pulled herself out of the darkness, but in doing so, she had cut the rest of them out, and that cut deep. Cassian couldn’t quite reconcile his admiration for her strength with the bitter realization that she had moved on—without him.

The worst part wasn’t just that Nesta had healed. It wasn’t even that she had moved on without him. No, the worst part was seeing how happy she looked—not with him, but with someone else. It was a quiet sort of joy that radiated from her, a peace Cassian had never seen in her eyes. And it wasn’t even the fact that she was with a woman. That, in itself, shocked him, yes, but it wasn’t the source of his turmoil. It was the softness in her gaze—the kind of softness he had never once seen directed at him.

Never once had Nesta looked at him like that, not even when they were close. Not when they had shared their quiet moments, when their bond had been full of unspoken things. She had always been guarded with him, distant, and maybe that’s what made her healing feel like a sharp, cruel reminder of everything he had missed.

But with Taryn? With her, Nesta’s face was full of something Cassian had only ever dreamed of seeing. There was no hardness in her eyes, no suspicion, no walls. Just warmth, just that kind of openness he hadn’t earned, couldn’t have earned. He’d never been able to break down the barriers she had built around her heart, and seeing her share that tenderness with someone else made him feel small, insignificant. It twisted something inside of him, this ugly mix of guilt and longing, watching her so free with someone else, when all he had ever wanted was to be the one who got to see that side of her.

That softness was never meant for him, and that realization hit him harder than he had expected. It was a kind of finality that he couldn’t escape, no matter how much he tried to move past it.

Cassian walked along the Sidra, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his boots kicking stray rocks with each step. The water flowed beside him, but he barely noticed it, his mind too heavy with thoughts that dragged him down. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know where to go from here. Every time he tried to get closer to Nesta, to reach her, there was nothing but distance between them—an invisible wall he couldn’t break.

The bond they once shared was gone. Or at least, it felt that way. He couldn’t sense her anymore, not in the way he used to. It wasn’t that the bond was broken—it was as if she had simply let it go, as if she no longer needed or wanted to feel him. It wasn’t a severing, no clean break, but a slow drifting, like she had forgotten he was ever there. Forgotten that he could still feel her, hear her thoughts, be connected to her in ways that no one else could.

It should have hurt, but instead, it left him with an emptiness, a hollow feeling in his chest. It was as if Nesta had taken all of her warmth, all of her strength, and moved it away from him—away from their bond. Cassian knew she was healing, knew she was thriving, but what he couldn’t understand was why that meant leaving him behind. Had she ever really needed him, or had it always been just a fleeting connection, something that had served its purpose and now was no longer relevant?

He kicked another rock, watching it skip across the surface of the river. There was a time when she had been the center of his thoughts, when the mere idea of her would light a fire inside him. But now? Now he was walking through the motions, trying to figure out how to live without the pull of her presence constantly there, even if it had been distant for so long. He didn’t know what to do, where to go, or how to fix this. He only knew that whatever Nesta had done, whatever path she was on, it was one she had chosen without him. And that realization? That was the hardest blow of all.

Cassian didn’t even realize where he was walking, his mind consumed with thoughts of Nesta and the lingering emptiness that followed her departure. He was lost in the rhythm of his steps, his gaze fixed downward, barely registering his surroundings. And then, without warning, he collided with someone. The impact was soft, but the crash of falling bags broke through his haze. He heard a quiet curse as a few grocery bags tumbled to the ground, spilling their contents onto the cobblestone street.

He froze, instantly aware of what had happened. He was going to apologize, to bend down and help pick up the mess, but then he looked up. And there she was.

Taryn.

His heart stuttered for a brief second. He hadn’t expected to run into her—least of all like this. She stood there, glaring at the ground as she quickly began to gather her fallen groceries, a faint flush of frustration coloring her features. Cassian felt a flicker of embarrassment, realizing he had been so lost in his own world that he hadn’t even noticed someone in his path.

Without thinking, he crouched down to help her, reaching for the scattered bags. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

Taryn didn’t immediately respond. She continued picking things up with swift movements, clearly trying to hide her irritation. But then she paused, glanced up at him, and gave a tight smile. “It’s fine,” she said, though there was a trace of tension in her voice.

Cassian watched her, unsure of what to say next. There was an awkwardness between them, an unspoken distance. After all, she wasn’t just a stranger, not really. She was with Nesta. And for all the times he had seen her from a distance, there was a weight to this encounter that he hadn’t expected.

He picked up the last of the fallen items, placing them carefully back into the bags. “Are you… okay?” he asked, his voice softening slightly as he straightened.

Taryn didn’t immediately answer, but she nodded, taking the bags from him. “Yes, thank you,” she said quietly. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, something Cassian couldn’t quite place. A guardedness, perhaps, or a wariness that matched the awkwardness of their interaction.

Cassian felt the silence stretch between them, unsure of how to break it. Finally, he cleared his throat, giving a small shrug. “I should have been paying more attention.”

Taryn glanced at him, offering a small, knowing smile. “Seems like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Cassian’s gaze flickered away, the weight of her words hitting a little too close to home. He didn’t respond right away, but the quiet between them felt heavier now. Taryn, however, was already looking down at the bags, seeming to dismiss the moment as quickly as it had come.

“Well,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I should get going.”

As Taryn adjusted the weight of the bags in her hands, her fingers straining to hold them all, Cassian stood there, watching her. It was strange how something so simple—a woman holding bags—could feel so heavy. Her posture, tense as she shifted the weight from one hand to the other, made it clear she wasn’t handling it easily.

Cassian didn’t know why, but before he could stop himself, he found the words slipping out. “Do you need help?”

Taryn paused. For a heartbeat, she looked like she might refuse—pride or stubbornness flashing in her eyes—but then, after a moment’s hesitation, she seemed to reconsider. Her gaze softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

“Actually, yes,” she said, her voice quieter than before. “Thank you.”

Cassian moved forward, careful not to crowd her, and reached for one of the bags. He could feel the weight of it in his hand as he took it from her, the gesture simple, but somehow it felt like an unspoken offering. A truce, or maybe just an acknowledgment that neither of them had to carry their burdens alone, if only for a moment.

They started walking together, side by side, the awkwardness of their earlier exchange lingering in the air. Taryn said nothing for a while, and Cassian didn’t press her. His mind wandered again, thoughts drifting back to Nesta and that strange, quiet sense of longing that had been gnawing at him since he had first seen her with Taryn.

The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been earlier. Maybe because now, at least, they were doing something—helping, in a small way, even if the world around them seemed like it had shifted too much already.

Taryn glanced over at him after a few moments, the flicker of something in her gaze—something unreadable. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Cassian gave a small shrug, keeping his eyes ahead as they walked. “It’s no trouble,” he said, his voice a little lighter than before. “I don’t mind.”

She didn’t respond, but the soft sound of her breath as they continued walking made it feel, for a moment, like they weren’t so far apart.

As they walked, Cassian couldn’t help but sneak glances at Taryn. There was something about her that made him feel… uneasy, though not in the way he had anticipated. She wasn’t his type, not in the way Nesta had been. Nesta had always been fierce and untouchable, her every movement demanding attention. Taryn, however, was quiet—composed in a way that Cassian hadn’t expected. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever been around.

He studied her as they walked side by side, trying to find something, anything, that would explain the pull Nesta had felt toward her. What was it about this woman that had made Nesta smile in a way she’d never smiled for him? He couldn’t see it right away.

Taryn wasn’t trying to make herself seen. She wasn’t flashy or demanding attention. Her hair was tied up simply, a few strands falling loosely around her face. The soft, subtle grace she moved with was more refined than anything Cassian was used to. There was no arrogance in her posture, no sharpness in her tone. She wasn’t like the women he was familiar with, always bold and willing to fight for their place.

He tried to push past his thoughts, but as they continued walking, the more he watched her, the more his mind ran through all the possible reasons Nesta would have chosen to open herself to Taryn. What had Taryn offered that he couldn’t? What had she given Nesta that he had failed to?

It made no sense to him. He had been there for Nesta, in every way he knew how. Yet here she was, sharing moments with someone else—someone like Taryn—someone who was soft and steady, who didn’t demand, but somehow seemed to give her what she needed.

Cassian tried to figure it out, but the answer remained just out of reach. Taryn was so different from Nesta, in every way. And yet, the thought lingered in his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch. What had Nesta seen in her? Why did she look at Taryn with a kind of warmth that had never been reserved for him?

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something vital. But the more he looked at Taryn, the more it gnawed at him—Nesta’s smile when she looked at her, the quiet, unspoken bond between them that Cassian couldn’t quite understand.

Cassian couldn’t hold it in any longer. His curiosity gnawed at him, and the silence between them had grown too thick for him to ignore. He cleared his throat, glancing at Taryn from the corner of his eye.

“How’s Nesta?” he asked, his voice softer than he intended, like he was afraid she might hear the desperation beneath it. “I know… everything’s been left tense between us.”

Taryn slowed her pace slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment as she took a breath. Then, with a simple shrug, she replied, “She’s okay. Really, she is. We went out to meet some friends after the Solstice, delivered more presents.” She didn’t elaborate, but there was something in her voice that told Cassian everything he needed to know—Nesta had been moving on.

Cassian felt a strange sting in his chest at the thought. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, but a bitter realization. She was living her life without him, carving out a space where he no longer fit. And, for the first time, he was starting to wonder if that was how it should be.

“Good,” he muttered, though the word felt hollow. He wasn’t sure if he meant it.

Cassian didn’t know why the word struck him so strangely. Friends. Friends? Of course, Nesta would have friends. She wasn’t incapable of connection, wasn’t completely cold or cruel—not in the way others might think. But still, he couldn’t quite picture it. Her sharp tongue and relentless glare were more likely to push people away than draw them close.

He tried to imagine it. Nesta, sitting with a group of people, laughing, talking about… what? She wasn’t the type to make small talk, to gossip about nonsense. What did she share with these so-called friends? What part of herself did they get that he hadn’t?

It was unsettling, the idea that there were pieces of her life he didn’t know about. Had she always had friends and just… not told him? Had she met them after she left? What did they see in her that made them stay? He found himself stuck in a loop, trying to reconcile the Nesta he knew with this version of her, one who had a life full of people who weren’t him.

Taryn glanced at him, her lips twitching in a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was sharp, almost pointed, and Cassian felt the weight of it as if she had peeled back the layers of his thoughts.

“She’s perfectly capable of making friends,” Taryn said smoothly, her tone light but purposeful. Her gaze lingered on him for a beat longer, as though daring him to deny it.

Cassian felt a flush creep up his neck. He shifted the bag in his hands, focusing on the ground ahead as if it held answers. “It’s not that she couldn’t,” he said quickly, almost defensively. “It’s just… Nesta is Nesta.”

Taryn raised a brow, the look on her face both amused and unimpressed. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

Cassian stumbled over his words, realizing how it must have sounded. “I just mean… she’s not the easiest person to get to know. She keeps her guard up.” He hesitated, then added, almost to himself, “She pushes people away.”

Taryn’s expression softened, but there was still steel beneath it. “And yet, some people stay. You’d be surprised how many are willing to try when they see her for who she truly is.”

The words landed heavily, and Cassian felt them settle uncomfortably in his chest. He didn’t respond, unable to shake the feeling that Taryn wasn’t just talking about Nesta’s friends but maybe even herself. Maybe especially herself.

Cassian frowned, his grip tightening slightly on the bag in his hands. “Maybe,” he said after a moment, his voice lower, more defensive. “But they don’t know her like I do. Like her family does.”

Taryn stopped walking, turning to face him fully. Her expression was unreadable, but her sharp gaze pinned him in place. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

He blinked, caught off guard by her directness. “Because I’ve been there,” he said, his tone firmer now, almost as if trying to convince himself. “Through everything. I’ve seen her at her worst, and I’ve—”

“Left her there,” Taryn cut in softly but pointedly. Her words sliced through him, leaving no room for rebuttal. “You’ve seen her, but did you ever truly try to understand her? Or did you just assume that because she’s family, you knew everything there was to know?”

Cassian’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Taryn tilted her head, studying him for a moment longer before continuing. “Nesta doesn’t let people in easily, but when she does, she’s loyal in ways most people can’t comprehend. If she’s found people who care for her, who see her for who she is now, maybe that’s something you should be glad about instead of guarded.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and unyielding. Cassian swallowed hard, the weight of them settling into the cracks he hadn’t even realized were there. He wanted to argue, to push back, but deep down, he knew she wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, the thought of anyone else knowing Nesta better than he did left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Cassian’s jaw tightened as he stopped in his tracks. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice sharper than he intended. “You didn’t see her last solstice. What she was doing to herself. The drinking, the fighting, the way she pushed everyone away. You don’t know what it was like.”

Taryn turned to him sharply, her eyes blazing with something fierce. “Don’t I?” she snapped, her voice low and biting. “You think I wasn’t there? That I didn’t see her that way?”

Cassian froze, his mind scrambling to make sense of her words. “What are you talking about?”

“That solstice,” Taryn said firmly, stepping closer, “was the night I met Nesta. I saw her exactly as she was then—angry, hurting, and drowning in her own pain. Do you think I didn’t notice the way she downed those drinks, or how hollow her laughter sounded? You’re not the only one who’s seen her at her lowest, Cassian.”

Cassian’s throat tightened, but he didn’t look away from her glare. “Then you know what I’m talking about,” he pressed, his voice quieter but no less intense. “You know how bad it was.”

Taryn’s gaze didn’t soften, but her tone shifted, calmer yet still cutting. “I saw her that way, yes. But unlike you, I didn’t just judge her for it. I didn’t try to fix her or force her into something she wasn’t ready for. I just… listened. And maybe that’s why she started to pull herself out of that darkness—because she didn’t need someone telling her what she already knew. She needed someone who would stand beside her while she figured it out herself.”

Cassian stared at her, the weight of her words pressing against the cracks in his pride. He wanted to argue, to push back, but for the first time, he felt the sting of doubt. Had he been so focused on saving Nesta that he hadn’t stopped to ask what she actually needed?

Cassian swallowed hard, his voice hesitant as he asked, “What did she need, then?”

Taryn studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. She shifted the grocery bag in her arms, as if the answer carried weight she wasn’t sure he could hold. Finally, she said, “She needed space. And patience. Someone who didn’t try to fix her, but who saw her for who she was—not just her anger or her pain, but all of her.”

Cassian flinched, her words hitting closer than he wanted to admit. “I… I cared about her. I still do. I thought I was helping.”

Taryn’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “Maybe you were, in your way. But Nesta didn’t need someone to save her, Cassian. She needed someone who trusted her to save herself.”

Cassian felt the weight of her words settle deep in his chest. He wanted to protest, to defend himself, but the truth in what she said left him speechless.

“She’s stronger than you think,” Taryn continued, her voice steady but no longer harsh. “Stronger than even she believed, back then. But she had to find that strength on her own terms. Not yours. Not anyone else’s.”

Cassian looked away, his jaw tightening as he stared at the cobblestones beneath their feet. He wanted to believe he had done right by Nesta, but hearing Taryn now made him question everything. “I just wanted her to be happy,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“She is,” Taryn said simply, her voice softening just enough to be kind. “But it’s her happiness, Cassian. Not the version you wanted for her.”

The words stung, but Cassian nodded faintly, unable to argue against the truth of them.

Taryn adjusted the grocery bag in her arms and began walking again, her steps deliberate but unhurried. Cassian quickly fell into stride beside her, his thoughts racing.

“How… how was she?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended. “Last solstice, I mean. How did you two even meet?”

Taryn didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze was fixed ahead, as if deciding how much to say. Finally, she exhaled softly. “She was… at a low point,” Taryn admitted, her voice measured. “She didn’t say much at first, but it was obvious. I could see it in the way she held herself, in the way she avoided looking anyone in the eye.”

Cassian’s chest tightened at the image, the guilt surging anew. “And?”

Taryn glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable. “I was in a tavern,” she said bluntly. “She was sitting in a corner, drinking, glaring at anyone who came too close. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then I saw a few men trying to bother her.”

Cassian’s fists clenched at the thought, his protective instincts flaring. “And what happened?”

Taryn gave a wry smile. “She didn’t need me to intervene. She shut them down with a single look and a few choice words. It was… impressive, honestly.”

Cassian felt a mix of pride and frustration at the image. “So why did you approach her?”

Taryn’s smile faded slightly. “Because even after they left, she still looked… alone. Not just in the way she was sitting, but like it was something she carried with her.”

Cassian swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “And then?”

“I sat down,” Taryn said simply. “She tried to brush me off at first, told me to go away. But I stayed. I offered to buy her a drink—not the cheap, strong stuff she was nursing, but something that didn’t burn. And to my surprise, she didn’t argue. She just… let me.”

Cassian blinked, stunned. He could hardly imagine Nesta letting anyone do something like that, let alone a stranger. “And you just talked?”

Taryn shrugged. “Not much that first night. But enough. I told her about a band that was playing a few nights later, and I don’t know why, but I invited her. Didn’t think she’d come.” She smiled faintly. “But she did.”

Cassian fell silent, his mind replaying the story. It was so… unlike the Nesta he knew—or thought he knew. He couldn’t help but feel like he was piecing together fragments of someone he’d lost, someone who had grown into a version of herself he no longer fully recognized.

Cassian frowned, the weight of Taryn’s words settling heavily in his chest. He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “If you knew she was drinking to hurt herself,” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended, “why would you buy her another drink? Why not stop her?”

Taryn didn’t break stride, though her jaw tightened slightly. She shifted the grocery bag in her arms, considering her response before she finally spoke. “Because stopping her wouldn’t have worked. Not then.”

Cassian blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Taryn turned her head, her gaze steady and unyielding as she met his. “Do you really think she didn’t know she was hurting herself? That she didn’t already hear all the judgment from everyone around her? What she didn’t need was someone else trying to fix her. She needed someone who wasn’t going to push her away further.”

Cassian opened his mouth to argue but found he had no immediate response. Taryn’s words cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

“I wasn’t buying her another drink to enable her,” Taryn continued, her voice firm but not unkind. “I was meeting her where she was. Showing her that she wasn’t invisible. That someone saw her, even if she didn’t want to be seen.”

Cassian’s steps faltered, his hands tightening into fists. He hated the truth in her words, hated the guilt it churned up in him. He’d spent so long trying to push Nesta to be the version of herself he thought she should be, and now he couldn’t shake the image of her sitting in that tavern, alone and hurting.

“That’s what she needed then,” Taryn said quietly. “And eventually, she started to let herself want more than the hurt.”

Cassian’s chest ached, his gaze dropping to the ground as they walked. He didn’t know how to respond, how to process the realization that someone else—someone he barely knew—had reached Nesta in a way he never could.

Taryn’s gaze softened as she walked, her voice steady but reflective. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “Nesta didn’t just let people in. At first, she was sharp, guarded… like she was waiting for me to prove I was just like everyone else who had hurt her.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened, his fists still shoved in his pockets. “That sounds like her,” he muttered, more to himself than to Taryn.

Taryn glanced at him but didn’t comment on the bitterness in his tone. “She tested me, you know,” she continued. “Sarcasm, walls built so high I wasn’t sure I’d ever get past them. But I didn’t push. I just… stayed.”

“Stayed?” Cassian repeated, his brow furrowing.

“Yes,” Taryn said simply. “I sat with her when she didn’t want to talk. I listened when she did. I didn’t pry or force her to explain herself. I let her take her time because I knew she needed to trust that I wasn’t going to leave the moment it got hard.”

Cassian’s throat felt tight. “And she let you in?”

“Eventually,” Taryn said, a small smile playing on her lips. “It took months. Months of awkward silences, of her throwing verbal barbs at me to see if I’d flinch. But little by little, she let her guard down. And when she did…” Taryn’s smile grew, warm and fond. “It was worth it. She’s worth it.”

Cassian didn’t know what to say to that. His heart twisted painfully at the thought of Nesta letting Taryn in when she had pushed him—and everyone else—so far away. He wanted to resent Taryn for it, but deep down, he couldn’t. Not when it was clear that she had been there for Nesta when no one else had.

Taryn’s voice softened as she continued, her gaze fixed ahead. “Even after she started to trust me, Nesta wasn’t ready. For relationships, for dating… anything like that.”

Cassian glanced at her, a question in his eyes, but he stayed quiet.

“She was still piecing herself back together,” Taryn said. “She didn’t need someone trying to claim her, or fix her, or even push her. She needed space to figure out who she was beyond all the pain she’d carried. So, we stayed as friends. Close friends.”

Cassian’s chest tightened. “Friends,” he repeated, his voice faintly bitter, but Taryn ignored the edge in his tone.

“She got a job,” Taryn continued, undeterred. “Started saving her money, paying off debts—even the ones no one expected her to repay. She moved into a new apartment, something small but cozy, something she could call her own. And she started exploring things she enjoyed—books, music, dancing.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed. “Dancing?”

Taryn smiled faintly. “Yes, dancing. Not in a ballroom or for anyone’s approval, but just… for herself. She loved the freedom of it. The joy.”

Cassian looked away, his throat tightening. He thought of all the times he had seen Nesta at her lowest, drowning herself in alcohol and pushing everyone away. He thought of how he had tried to pull her out of that darkness, but his methods had only driven her further away.

“She didn’t need someone to pull her out,” Taryn added, as if reading his thoughts. “She needed to climb out on her own. And she did.”

Cassian stayed silent, his jaw clenched. He didn’t know if it was anger, regret, or something else entirely that burned in his chest. But one thing was certain: Nesta had found a life beyond him, beyond the chaos they had shared. And for the first time, he realized just how far out of reach she truly was.

Cassian stopped walking, his voice coming out sharp, like a challenge he couldn’t hold back. “When did it happen?” His eyes locked onto Taryn’s, searching, as if the answer might bring him some sort of relief. “When did you two become… this close? When did you—” He paused, words faltering for a moment. “When did she start trusting you enough for all of that?”

Taryn’s expression was unreadable, but there was a soft sigh before she answered. “It didn’t happen overnight, Cassian. It took time. Months, really. I didn’t rush her. I wasn’t trying to be her savior or her therapist or her next… whatever. I just showed up. I was there when she needed someone who wouldn’t push or judge or try to make her ‘better.’”

Cassian’s fists clenched, but his voice stayed low, full of that pent-up frustration. “I was there too. I tried.”

Taryn’s eyes narrowed, and she stopped walking, her tone cool but firm. “And you know what happened when you tried, right? You pushed. You didn’t see her. You didn’t really hear her. You didn’t give her the space she needed to heal, and it drove her further away. It’s why she needed a different kind of person.”

Cassian stood frozen for a beat, trying to swallow the weight of her words. The truth had always been there, hadn’t it? He had pushed too hard, too fast, expecting things to fall back into place when she was barely standing at all. He hadn’t seen it until now—how much further he had gone to drive a wedge between them.

“When did it happen?” he repeated, quieter this time. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer, but he had to ask. He needed to know. “When did you… become what she needed?”

Taryn didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, finally, her gaze softened just a touch. “It wasn’t a moment, Cassian. It was a process. A lot of small moments. But if you want a specific day, it was when she told me she wanted to dance with me.” She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And that… well, that was a beautiful thing to witness.”

Cassian let out a slow breath, the air around him feeling heavy, as if he was hearing everything for the first time, but it was too late to take it back. He wanted to scream, to ask her how he could have been different, but the words stuck. All he could do was stand there, feeling the loss of her—not just as a woman, but as someone who was gone in a way he hadn’t realized until now.

Taryn’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as she resumed walking, her gaze ahead of her. “She trusted me,” she said simply. “I didn’t ask her to. I just gave her the space to be who she needed to be.” She glanced at Cassian, her expression soft but firm. “We have a relationship built on honesty, Cassian. She’s bared her heart to me, everything—no holds barred.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed, the words catching in his chest. He couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Everything?” He couldn’t help it, the need to know the depth of what she meant. “Even the cabin… her sisters… Feyre?”

Taryn nodded without hesitation, her gaze unwavering as she continued walking. “Yes. Everything. Nesta needed someone to listen, to understand. She had her reasons for keeping things from her family, but with me, she didn’t hold back. She told me about the cabin, about the way she felt about her family, about Feyre and what happened with her. She told me about the war, about the way things broke her—about how she thought no one cared enough to help.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. “And it wasn’t easy for her. But she found a way to talk about it.”

Cassian stood silent for a moment, processing her words. There was so much he hadn’t known, so much he hadn’t realized about Nesta’s struggle. Her isolation wasn’t just about being left behind—it was about the broken pieces no one had bothered to pick up. “She never told me that,” he murmured, the hurt obvious in his tone. “She never let me in like that.”

Taryn’s smile softened. “She had to be ready, Cassian. And she wasn’t ready with you then. But she is now… in her own way, with the people who see her, who accept her as she is.” Her voice was gentle, but there was a quiet strength behind it. “You didn’t give her that. But she’s found it now.”

The words struck him like a blow. Cassian felt the sting of regret, but also the painful realization that he had never really seen Nesta for who she had become—only who she had been when they first met. “I didn’t understand her,” he admitted quietly. “Not then, not even now.”

Taryn glanced at him briefly, a flicker of empathy crossing her face. “It’s not too late, you know. But it has to be on her terms now.”

Cassian looked at Taryn, his voice raw with a mix of frustration and curiosity. “How did you do it? How did you understand her when none of us could? The cabin… we all hated her for it. Some of us still do.” He paused, trying to grasp at the answer that had been eluding him. “Why didn’t you?”

Taryn’s expression softened, and she turned her gaze toward him, her pace slowing as she considered his words. “Why would I hate her for it?” she asked quietly. “I wasn’t here, Cassian. I didn’t live the way she did. I didn’t feel the weight of every mistake she thought she’d made. I didn’t hear the things that broke her down, the way you and her sisters did. I didn’t live through the endless cycle of self-loathing that she couldn’t escape from.”

Her voice was calm but firm, as if the answer was simple to her. “So why would I hate her for something I didn’t live? Why would I judge her when I didn’t walk in her shoes, when I didn’t feel what she felt?” Taryn’s eyes met his, a quiet but powerful understanding in them. “I saw a woman who was trying to survive. She didn’t have to explain herself to me, but she did. And I didn’t turn my back on her for it.”

Taryn’s footsteps slowed even further as she spoke, her voice quiet but full of conviction. “What happened to the sisters… all of it, it was horrible. But Nesta blamed it all on herself. Everything. When she didn’t have to. She carried the weight of it like it was her burden alone, as if she had the power to stop it all.” Taryn’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced over at Cassian. “She didn’t have to, but she did.”

Cassian’s throat tightened as he heard the truth in Taryn’s words, but she wasn’t finished.

“What happened in the cabin… the things she did, what she put herself through, I would never hold it against her.” Taryn shook her head, her voice firm. “She was trying to survive, Cassian. She was suffocating, and she didn’t know how to breathe. None of you were there when it started to break her, and you weren’t there when she pulled herself out of it, either.”

Taryn shrugged, as if dismissing the weight of the conversation, but Cassian felt the words linger in his chest. He still didn’t understand, not fully, but he couldn’t argue with the sincerity in her voice. He followed her anyway, his mind still whirling with the questions, the confusion.

As they turned a corner, the street ahead seemed quieter, warmer. A cozy little neighborhood lined with homes that felt lived in. They stopped in front of one of them—a small, well-kept house. It wasn’t grand or imposing, but there was a charm to it. The brick exterior was a deep shade of red, with ivy creeping up the sides. A small garden sat in front, a few pots of flowers and greenery scattered about.

It was the kind of place that felt like it had a story to tell, and for some reason, Cassian found himself wondering if that story belonged to Nesta now.

Taryn looked up at the house, then over at Cassian. “This is it,” she said simply, her tone softer than before.

Cassian nodded, though his eyes lingered on the house. Something about it felt… real. In a way that he hadn’t expected.

Cassian’s gaze softened as he looked at the house, the quiet hope bubbling up in his chest. “Is she here?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He couldn’t help it—there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to see her again, to have a chance to talk, to maybe fix what had gone so wrong.

Taryn immediately shook her head, her lips pressing together in a firm line. “No,” she said, her tone almost apologetic. “She’s out running errands.”

Taryn took the bag from Cassian’s hands, her grip firm as she looked up at him, her gaze steady and piercing. “I heard you’ve been asking around about her,” she said, her voice calm but laced with an edge of warning. She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she continued. “You should only come around when Nesta allows it, if she ever wants it. You can’t just push your way into her life, not after everything that’s happened.”

Cassian was silent, her words hitting him harder than he expected. His mind raced, thinking of how many times he’d pushed too hard, how many times he’d tried to fix things without considering what Nesta needed. It wasn’t just about him—it was about her.

Taryn turned to walk toward the house, her eyes still on him. “So, if you truly care about her, you’ll wait. You’ll wait until she’s ready.”

Cassian’s voice broke the silence, thick with something that almost sounded like vulnerability. “Do you love her?” he asked, his eyes searching Taryn’s face, desperate for some understanding, some answer he didn’t know he was looking for.

Taryn paused for a moment, her lips curving into a soft but unwavering smile. She looked at him, her gaze filled with both certainty and tenderness. “Yes,” she said simply, her voice quiet but strong. “I do.”

Cassian blinked, caught off guard by her honesty. He had never expected such a clear answer, but it stung more than he thought it would. He opened his mouth to say something, but Taryn continued before he could speak.

“To be honest,” she said, her smile softening as her eyes turned distant with the memory, “I’m pretty sure I loved her the first moment I saw her.” She let out a breath, her fingers tightening slightly on the bag she carried. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Cassian stood frozen, the weight of her words settling on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t just the admission of love; it was the way Taryn spoke about Nesta, as if she had known her soul since the very beginning. Something in the way Taryn looked at her, something in the way she loved her, made Cassian feel like he was too late.

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Just Go Part 3 - Chris sturniolo

a/n: oh hey pooks!! enjoy this little plot twist of a story

The morning after their confessions, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off. You woke to an empty bed, the cool sheets where Chris had been, and the space beside you felt wider than it ever had before.

You tried not to panic, but the absence of his warmth was a jolt to your system. Last night had been perfect, filled with kisses that seemed to echo long after they’d stopped, confessions that had revealed more than just the depth of your attraction—but also the tenderness neither of you had dared admit. And now, Chris was gone. Not even a note. No trace.

You sat up, your pulse quickening. Did I do something wrong?

But then you saw it: a text from Chris.

Chris: Good morning, I’m sorry, I needed to clear my head. I’ll be back in a little while. Let’s talk then, okay?

Your fingers tightened around the phone. You weren’t sure if it was the coolness of the message, the sudden distance, or the lingering doubt that gnawed at your insides, but you felt an unsettling sensation creep up your spine.

Clear his head?

A million questions raced through your mind, none of them satisfying. And so, you did what you often did when your thoughts spiraled—you poured yourself a cup of coffee, letting the warmth fill your hands as you tried to regain your composure.

You hadn’t expected the vulnerability of last night to be so easily eclipsed by confusion. You had been so… raw. So real. What was he afraid of?

Just as you were starting to tell yourself to relax, to breathe, there was a knock on the door. Your heart leapt in your chest.

You rushed to answer it.

Standing in the doorway, your eyes briefly flickering with recognition before you masked it, was… not Chris.

It was Harper. Your best friend.

Harper stood there, looking a little out of breath, her dark hair slightly askew, her eyes wide with something between curiosity and concern.

“Hey, can I come in?” Harper’s tone was too casual, but her gaze kept darting behind you, as if searching for someone.

“Uh… sure,” you said, stepping aside. Your mind was still racing. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

Harper stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She held something in her hand, a small, folded piece of paper. Your stomach tightened, and a sudden unease crept in.

Harper cleared her throat, glancing down at the paper before holding it out. “I, uh… I think you need to read this.”

You frowned, your heart pounding as you took the paper from Harper’s hand. You unfolded it slowly, your eyes scanning the words that felt like a punch to your gut:

y/n,

I never meant to hurt you, but you deserve the truth. What happened last night—what you think happened with me—wasn't real.

The attraction I felt wasn’t to you. It was to someone else. Someone you know. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I was trying to figure out how to navigate the mess of feelings I have for both of you. I can't keep pretending. I hope you understand why I left so suddenly.

I’ll always care for you. But not in the way you think. Please don’t hate me.

—Chris.

The world tilted.

Your knees buckled, and you sank into the nearest chair, holding the letter as if it might slip from your fingers at any moment. Your chest was tight, the breath caught in your throat. Not in the way you think.

What was this? You looked up at Harper, but your best friend’s face was unreadable.

“Harper, what is this?” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Is this some kind of joke? Because this… this doesn’t make sense. Chris and I… we were…” You trailed off, feeling your heartbeat hammer against your ribs.

Harper didn’t answer right away, her eyes flickering as if she was weighing something heavy on her mind. After a long moment, she took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you, but I think you need to hear this. Chris… Chris was never supposed to be with you.” Harper’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, but firm in the way she spoke the truth. “He came to me. Confessed everything. The attraction, the feelings he thought he had for you… but they were never really there.”

You blinked, trying to piece it together. “What are you talking about? Are you saying—”

Harper cut you off, her eyes filled with regret. “Look, I’m the one he’s in love with. Not you. It was always me.”

Your world collapsed. The ground beneath your feet felt like it was crumbling, but it wasn’t just your heartbreak you were feeling—it was the betrayal. Chris. And Harper. Your best friend and the man you had fallen for—how had they kept this from you?

Harper stepped forward, her eyes soft but laced with a sadness you had never seen before. "I’m sorry, I never meant for this to happen. But after last night… I couldn’t let him keep lying to you."

You stood up, your voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and hurt. “So you and Chris? All of this was just some twisted game to you both? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Harper flinched but didn’t back down. “No, it wasn’t like that. I care about you. But I couldn’t watch him struggle like this, pretending he wanted something he didn’t.” She hesitated. “He tried to walk away from me. He even tried to convince himself it was you. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie anymore.”

Your mind was racing, every word, every memory of Chris replaying in your head—every kiss, every touch, all of it a lie.

But then, just as you were about to scream, to demand answers from both of them, there was a sudden knock at the door. A familiar knock.

Your heart stopped. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Chris.

Harper stiffened, her eyes darting toward the door, and for a moment, you were frozen, caught between rage and heartbreak.

This was a betrayal that ran deeper than you could’ve ever imagined. But Chris was standing there now, and somehow, this wasn’t over.

Not yet.

“Hey,” Chris’s voice called from the other side of the door. “I need to explain everything. Please, just let me—”

Before he could finish, you stormed toward the door, wrenching it open with every ounce of fury and heartbreak you could summon. You faced him, your chest rising and falling with the weight of everything you had just learned.

“No,” you said, your voice shaking but resolute. “No more lies. No more pretending.”

Chris’s face fell. But just as you were about to speak again, he took a step closer. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. You have to understand—”

But you stepped back. “I don’t need you to explain anything to me anymore. I need you to leave. And I need to find out who I really am without either of you.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something, but you turned away, slamming the door shut behind you, kicking both of them out.

You stood there for a long moment, breathing deeply, your hands trembling, and your heart shattering.

The love you thought was yours—was never yours to begin with.

And now, you had to figure out what came next.

a/n: oof the tensions hot.. i wonder what happens next, thats IF something happens next.

tag: @riggysworld

[mim16s]

Survival in Game

Cho Hyun-ju x Autistic!Fem!Reader

This is part two of Survival in Game. In this chapter, I wanted to explore more of Hyunju and the reader's relationship in a softer, more emotional way. I hope you enjoy it! In the next chapter, we'll dive into the second game of the season.

_____

Part 1:

You held the lunchbox in your hands and, as you walked back to your bed, you saw the woman who had helped you in the last game. Your heart raced a little. You wanted to thank her and also stay close to her. You didn’t fully understand why, but something about her radiated safety. In such an unpredictable place, that was exactly what you needed.

Social interactions had always been challenging for you. Words often got tangled, and people’s expressions didn’t always make sense. But with her, it was different. Something about her seemed calm and welcoming.

Stopping in front of her, gripping your food tightly, you tried to organize your thoughts. She, already eating, paused her meal and looked up at you. There was something comforting in that look of recognition, but now that you were so close, the words vanished from your mind, as they often did in moments of anxiety.

— Do you need something? — she asked kindly, as you looked down at the floor, trying to muster courage.

— I wanted to thank you... for protecting me in the game — you said quickly, bowing in gratitude. Formality helped you organize your speech. When you looked back at her, you noticed a shy smile on her face. It was a soft smile, free of judgment. She looked so beautiful smiling that it made your cheeks flush, something you couldn’t hide very well.

— Don’t worry, you didn’t need to thank me — she replied calmly. You took a deep breath, trying to prepare for what you wanted to say. The anxiety made your head spin.

— I’d like to ask you something — you finally said, seeing curiosity spark in her eyes. — Can I join you? — The question seemed to surprise her, her eyes widening slightly. She was silent for a moment before smiling again, this time more broadly. It had been a long time since anyone sought her company. Since her transition, people preferred to keep their distance. The fact that you had approached her touched her deeply.

— Of course, sit here — she said, moving aside to make room next to her. You sat beside her, still nervous but relieved that you had managed to speak. As you stared at your lunchbox, she broke the silence. — What’s your name? — she asked curiously.

— My name is Y/N. And yours?

— I'm Hyunju — she replied, with another smile that made your mind feel at ease. Unfortunately, the calm was interrupted by shouting. When you looked, you saw three men fighting violently. Your body stiffened immediately, and fear consumed you. Instinctively, you moved closer to Hyunju, seeking the sense of security she exuded. She noticed the fight but made no effort to push you away, letting you stay close.

You had always hated fights. They scared you deeply, bringing back painful memories from your childhood. You remembered when your mother started dating. At first, he seemed like a good person, but he soon revealed his true nature. He not only abused your mother physically but also diminished her emotionally. You watched helplessly, just a child, unable to do anything as she suffered. She tried to shield you, but you always heard the sounds of violence and shouting from your room.

For years, that violence was a constant weight in your life until he tried to do the same to you. That was your mother’s breaking point. She finally realized she needed to protect you and ended the abusive relationship. However, the scars of that period remained. Those years left deep marks, and any sign of violence was enough to make you relive it all.

Now, with your emotions still raw from the game and the deaths you had witnessed, the fight in front of you felt like the last straw. The loud voices, the sudden movements—it was all too much. You covered your ears with your hands, closed your eyes, and began rocking gently, trying to calm yourself and push away the bad memories that kept flooding in.

Beside you, Hyunju noticed your reaction. Initially confused, she observed closely, trying to understand what was happening. Although she didn’t know exactly what to do, it was clear to her that you were scared, and she hesitated for a moment. Then, carefully, she placed a hand on your shoulder, saying nothing but showing she was there.

— Hey, it’s okay. They won’t hurt you — she said, trying to soothe you with her soft voice, but her attempt didn’t seem to help much. You were still caught in your internal storm, hands pressed to your ears, body trembling. Hyunju looked around, trying to think of what to do until an idea came to her.

— Look at me — she said, and you obeyed, your eyes finally meeting hers. — It’s okay, just breathe, alright?

She noticed a slight relief on your face when one of the players intervened and managed to stop the fight. With the commotion settling, she turned her full attention back to you. — It’s okay, repeat after me — she said, guiding you through breathing exercises. She took deep breaths, and you tried to mimic her, following the rhythm she set. Gradually, your body began to relax, but not enough to completely shake off the weight you felt. You instinctively hugged yourself, seeking comfort, which caught Hyunju’s attention.

— Do you need a hug? — she asked in a calm, careful tone. You hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded.

— May I hug you? — she asked again, waiting for your permission. Another affirmative nod. Carefully, Hyunju moved closer and wrapped her arms around you—firm yet gentle. Something about her size and the steadiness of her embrace made you feel safer, as though she could shield you from the world.

You nestled into her chest, breathing deeply as small tears slid down your face. The warmth and protection you felt there gave you the comfort you needed to begin recovering from the episode.

— It’s okay now — she whispered, holding you firmly but without pressure, giving you all the time you needed.

— I’m sorry — you murmured, voice muffled, trying to rein in your emotions.

— There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s okay — she replied softly, tightening the hug slightly, a silent reminder that she was there for you without rush or judgment.

— It’s just... so much has happened, and I couldn’t handle it — you said, sadness evident in every word. The weight of your emotions felt overwhelming, as though everything had built up all at once. Hyunju sighed softly, understanding the depth of the situation.

— I understand — she said gently, her voice calm and reassuring. — There’s so much pressure here. You’ve just seen so many difficult things, and now this fight... it’s completely understandable. You have nothing to apologize for.

Her words, filled with empathy, eased some of the tension you felt. She didn’t blame you for your reaction, and that gave you a little more freedom to process everything in your own time. Her embrace felt like a silent guarantee that she was there to support you—no rush, no judgment.

Later, when it was time to sleep, she lay down on the bed next to yours, her eyes discreetly watching your movements, a silent promise that she would be there for you if you needed her. Despite her exhaustion, Hyunju couldn’t ignore the strange feeling growing within her: an almost instinctive need to protect you.

As the silence of the night enveloped the room, she reflected on everything that had happened. Tomorrow would be another difficult day, another unpredictable game that would put your lives at risk. But one thing she was certain of: she would stay by your side, no matter what.

[miffy-00]

I love ur writinggg do u think u could write enemies to lovers hc for jean?

tysmm !! and ofc i can 💕💕

i definitely think enemies to lovers with jean would be a long term thing. he can definitely hold a grudge

i’m thinking childhood enemies to lovers OOOOOO

and you guys were forced to be friends because your families were

and your personalities just didn’t mesh. he was conceited and sarcastic. you were more in touch with your emotions. jean saw it more of a weakness and teased you relentlessly. despite all this you guys still had to grow up with each other.

the final straw was when he broke your treasured music box… and he didn’t even apologise and instead made YOU feel bad about it. “it was by accident ! i don’t know why you’re so upset..gosh..you’re so sensitive…” and you’re fighting back tears :((

after that you guys just kept your distance and only interacted when you needed to.

so fast forward a couple years later. you guys are older, more mature and you guys are both back for summer

and because your families are so close you’re being forced to go to jeans for a bbq. AND YOU ARE DREADINGGG IT. you’re begging to not go. but it’s not use.

and he’s in the garden helping his dad grill some meat or whatever and you’re thinking, “maybe i can avoid him..for the whole day…”

you join the conversation between your mum and jeans mum. you’ve always loved jeans mum, despite never getting along with her son. she treated you like her own daughter.

“jean ! guess who’s here !!” uh oh

your plan of avoiding him clearly failed as you hear footsteps approaching

“what are you doing here ?” he laughs but you meet him back with a glare “and just when i thought this day couldn’t get any better” and he slings his arm around your shoulder, dragging you to the garden.

“so..what’s been new in your life…softie?” you could sense the teasing and mocking tone in his voice.

“how many times have i told you not to call me that.”

“hmm, gee i can’t remember softie”

“goodbye jean.” you weren’t going to do this again. you weren’t going to snap and give him what he wanted. you were tired of his condescension.

you were just about to turn around to leave when jean wraps his hand around your wrist. it wasn’t hard or anything but more firm, almost like he was so pleading for you to stay “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“my bad, i didn’t realise softie pissed you off that much. look, i’ll stop okay? just don’t walk off. again” again??? was this guy serious. was he completely ignoring everything he had said and done to you ??? walking off was the only thing that allowed you to keep your sanity

but despite that you couldn’t help look at his kind eyes. feel his gentle touch. he was even taller than you remembered. stubble grazed his chin and you didn’t even THINK he could grow facial hair. he grew his sandy hair out like he always said he would. who was this boy-no man in front of you? and why did he-

“softie…hello…?” his hand was waving in front of your face. “are you still with me..?”

“ yeah..i am..it’s just um..it’s hot outside so-”

“oh okay. we can go to my room then. i have a fan.” he says walking ahead of you. “cmon softie, i don’t want to leave you behind” why was he being so genuine and nice?

so you guys are in his room. it hadn’t changed AT ALL.

same posters, same scratches and scuffs on the wall. the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling are now peeling off.

you could even see his childhood teddy, peeking out from under his pillow, which made you smile just a tiny bit.

but the room felt smaller. jean had changed. you’ve changed.

but it’s peaceful. not awkward or tense. just soothing.

you guys are both on the floor. you’re lying on your stomach, the fan blowing cold air into your face. jean lying next to you on his back bouncing a ball of the wall.

you didn’t want to run. instead you wanted to stay with him..

“softie?”

“…what.” you pause to compose yourself and prevent another argument.

“do you still hate me?”

“um..i don’t know..a bit i guess..” you were taken aback by the question. it’s hard to ever get jean to be honest and vulnerable but here he was.

he laughs but it seems forced and stilted. “i know i did a lot of stupid shit..but i didn’t mean to hurt you alright? i just…didn’t think it mattered i guess.”

you turn to see him to see jeans eyes are stuck on you. “you were young and stupid. i mean, you still are but i don’t know…i’m holding out hope for a more maturer version of you”

“who says i haven’t already? you know..matured.”

you roll your eyes and scoff “i’ll believe it when i see it jean.”

he sits up and leans closer into you. you even catch the faint snell of his cologne mixed in with his coconut shower gel. his voice just above a whisper, “you’ll see it eventually. just trust me..okay?”

you didn’t know how to respond. but you weren’t about to respond with vitriol. you didn’t want to leave his presence, it was comforting. you were in his old room, with his fan humming lowly in the background. jeans rhythmic bouncing of the ball. his eyes tracing over you. maybe this could be okay.

because jean had changed.

a/n: AAAAA i hope you like it anon it was very fun but stressful to write !! i don’t think i can write short pieces OMDS 😭😭 and tbh this is more a drabble in headcanon/bullet point form + it’s more slowburn BUT i just hope you guys like it i might write more if it’s well received 😜