#i am so blessed that this fic is your muse
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I will be waiting with open arms
Do you remember when I said I made myself sad with a story about Emmrich dying? Guess what I've finished? I made myself cry and now I am making this fic everyone's problem.
Emmrich dies at the age of ninety seven and Rook, who is seventy two now, receives one last letter from his love.
Cw: major character death (offscreen, not described)
Hello, @mercars-musings I am here to deal emotional damage
(Next up is Pining 2.0 Emmrich's POV, starring Davrin and Assan as wingmen, because I need the sad to go away)
Here on ao3
Edit: here is part 2
And here are my other stories
There was a knock on the door and Rook dragged himself out of his armchair with a sigh. The chair next to his own was glaringly empty and he felt his eyes sting with more tears, so he wiped them away and went to see just who had decided to bother him right after the funeral.
“GREETINGS, ROOK,” Vorgoth said as the door opened.
“Hi, Vorgoth. Is everything alright?”
They’d met at the service, so why would he come to visit him at home?
“THIS IS FOR YOU.”
Vorgoth was handing him an envelope and the neat handwriting on it was unmistakably Emmrich’s. Rook stared at it, at a loss for words, and when he looked up, Vorgoth was gone. There was a single word on the envelope - Rook. He opened it and took out the letter, noticing that the paper was crinkled in a few places, letters smudged as if waterstained. His legs were suddenly very weak and he felt that he should sit back down before he read it, so he settled back into the armchair.
9th of Parvulis, 9:94 Dragon
My darling Rook,
I have entrusted this letter into Vorgoth’s care, to be delivered to you after my funeral. I hope you can forgive an old man's wish to have one last goodbye.
I can feel the span of my days drawing to a close at last. I have lived a long life, longer than most, and even though a better half of it was spent waiting for you to come into it, I wouldn’t exchange the time we had together for anything.
I have made peace with my demise, as should you, my dear. I'm sure you are frowning right now, disagreeing with me, but it is true. Those fears that plagued me are long buried in the past, overshadowed by the joy of having lived my life to the fullest. With you. For what would eternity be without you there? Death seems a small price to pay for what you've given me.
As I look out the window at the yellowing leaves of our cherry tree, I find myself thinking back to the day you married me. You looked so beautiful with the flowers in your hair and I was the happiest man in the world. As I am even now. I am honored beyond words that you chose to take me as your husband and stay with me for all those years, even as I grew old (I can see you bristling at the word, but ninety seven years is hardly young, by my count).
I’d never expected such happiness to find its way to me, yet here I am, blessed with a family that has grown so much since the time it was just the two of us and Manfred. First little Elanora, and what a wonderful woman she has grown into!
And I still cannot believe that I got to have not just children, but a grandchild as well. Rupert (do you remember how I cried, when Ellie chose the name?) has grown so much. It feels impossible that he is already fifteen and well on his way to becoming a man. I am actually waiting for him to come visit as I write this and I hope to hide away the tears before the boy arrives. I don't need to ask you to take care of them, for I know you will.
I love you, Rook. I love you, I love you, I love you. I have told you every day and yet it doesn't feel like enough.
Please, do not spend too long mourning me. Live out your days, take joy in our family and know that you were the brightest light of my life.
Goodbye, darling, may we meet again in the afterlife. I will be waiting for you with open arms. And do visit the Memorial Gardens in the meantime, I will be there in spirit.
Forever yours,
Emmrich
Rook's hands were shaking, making the paper flutter in his grip. The tears started falling, landing on the letter and he quickly set it down on the side table, terrified of destroying Emmrich’s last words to him.
He was crying, ugly heaving sobs were tearing their way out of him and he couldn't stop himself. He buried his face in his hands. He hadn't cried like this at the funeral, couldn't allow himself to, but now the weight of it all was coming down on him. After what felt like hours the tears dried up and he was staring numbly ahead. Distantly, he heard footsteps coming closer.
“Dad?”
Ellie's hand was on his back, the gesture so similar to how Emmrich used to touch him that he choked back another sob.
“Hi, bug,” he whispered, and this once she didn't reprimand him for using her childhood nickname.
There were tears streaming down her face as well and he opened his arms for her. She climbed into his lap, draping her arms around his neck and he was young again and she was five years old, crying over a skinned knee. But this time the wound ran deeper and they held each other through the tears.
“I miss him so much,” she sobbed against his shoulder. “It felt like he would be here forever and now he's gone. I hate it!”
“I know, El. I hate it too,” he said, stroking her back in soothing circles, much like he had seen Emmrich do so many times before and why did everything have to remind him of Emmrich when he was gone!
But weren't the memories just the thing? He knew that Emmrich would say that they should take comfort in the memories they had of him, of the life they shared, instead of mourning what they could no longer have. He sighed and even Ellie's sobs were finally quieting down.
“Hey, bug?”
“Yeah?”
“Wanna come with me to the Memorial Gardens? I could tell you again about how me and you daddy met.”
“I'd love that, dad.”
She smiled at him and the world slowly began setting itself right again.
#emmrook#dragon age veilguard#emmrich volkarin#dragon age emmrich#emmrich x rook#Now I'm sad#And you will probably be too#Welcome to my sadness corner#This wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it down
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The way I love this so much and want it on my waaaaaaaaalllllll ahhhhh! Bee! It's beautiful! 😭💖😭💖
For those of you reading Long Way Home by @theangrypomeranian , you may recognize this scene from the latest chapter! It gave me such feels, and I wanted to draw something that matched the mood.
#tagged#hey bee#zekina Alaskan adventure au#long way home#bob belcher#tina belcher#i love iiiiiiiiit 😭💖#i am so blessed that this fic is your muse
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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo
-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-
𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k
Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.
Click
January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.
Click
January 16th, 6:38 PM
My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.
Click
January 19th, 6:11 AM
Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.
Click
January 19th, 8:27 PM
I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it.
Click
January 23rd, 5:13 AM
Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.
Click
January 23rd, 9:53 PM
She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again.
Click
January 28th, 7:06 PM
My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be.
Click
February 2nd, 8:31 AM
I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.
Click
February 5th, 6:21 PM
I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.
That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her.
With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.
He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.
It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area.
Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit.
In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love.
These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?
Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to.
He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces.
Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine.
Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get.
You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.
Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away.
On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you.
“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.
When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you.
There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf.
You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.
Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.
His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month.
“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening.
You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.
His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well.
Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.
Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.
Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?
But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.
Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease.
For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.
Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text:
-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)
He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.
-I would love that. What time, my love?
Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.
-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.
Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours.
A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.
Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text:
-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.
You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks.
“What is it?” your coworker asked.
“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face.
Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.
You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.
No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries.
You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now.
“January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.
When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony.
You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head.
“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner.
“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest.
“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks.
Click
Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you.
“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?”
You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life.
The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting?
Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room.
As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.
He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.
Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.
A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.”
“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.
“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.
He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.
Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue.
A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.”
Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.
“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.
“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”
He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.
“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.
“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you.
A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy.
Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote.
Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him.
“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”
There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand.
“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”
Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him.
“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”
You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment.
Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”
Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage.
“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”
It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.”
You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening.
“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex.
“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch.
You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most.
“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.
You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you.
“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours.
author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.
this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol
alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆。˚
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.
#—written by jade 🌿#jujutsu kaisen writing#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo smut#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#satorugojo#gojosatoru#jjk#jujutsukaisen#gojo x you#satoru x reader#satoru smut#jujutsu satoru#gojo#gojo jjk#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#bratbby333
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i wish i were heather...
synopsis: you were under the impression that you were stable in your secret long-term relationship with three of the four marauders, until it becomes clear that you aren't the girl they want anymore. (so you think). will you lose them before its too late? or have you already?
pairings: fem!reader x poly!marauders ` poly!marauders x lily evans
warnings: NO LILY SLANDER!! SHE'S PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL AND ITS NOT HER FAULT!!, cusswords, ANGST, depressing, a blip of reader skipping meals on the radar but it's srsly nothing crazy, insecure reader, the marauders besides peter are dicks, reader is a little naive, the marauders borderline cheat on you, no happy ending, there might still be one thoughhh, possibly slytherin!reader if you squint?,
part one in the conan gray series
A/N!!: In some of the fic i use colors to represent a certain character! Orange is Lily, Red is James, and Green is Barty :3
wc; 2.4k
LIFE WAS AMAZING, which is not usually how stories begin.
You felt so safe and secure in your secret relationship with Hogwarts' once most eligible bachelors... The Marauders.
The rush of excitement that coursed through your veins every time you shared a hidden glance with Remus, or hiding in the showers of the Gryffindor boys locker room with James after his quidditch victory, and sneaking off to empty classrooms where anyone from anywhere could catch you with Sirius.
It was heavenly, these boys were all you would ever need.
until... now.
You were in Remus' sweater, he said it looked better on you than it did him. If only he knew how much you liked him...
The fireplace erupted with a citrine glow, illuminating the Gryffindor common room beautifully.
Most impactfully, it lit up Remus' scar-kissed features.
His freckles looked as if they were painted onto his face with careful hands by a renaissance painter.
His eyes half-lidded from his lack of sleep from the incoming full moon that was slowly approaching, it pained you to know how much they hurt him.
For once, Remus wasn't in a sweater. Since his was rested comfortably on your body, as your scent comforted The Wolf greatly.
And his scent comforted you, too.
Remus' book had suddenly landed on your lap, and though it startled you a bit. You didn't bother to ask why, until you sat up.
Remus was locked in a passionate conversation with Gryffindor's resident golden girl, Lily Evans.
"Evans, it's lovely to see you."
"Same to you, Lupin."
Godric, was she beautiful.
"I just stopped by to see if you had gotten any of the Defence Against The Dark Arts homework done?"
Lily Evans was as radiant as an angel who blessed anyone with her presence.
"I have; actually, I just finished my paper."
Remus seemed mesmerized by her, the golden gleam from the fire painting her features gorgeously in that same citrine glow as Remus'.
"Could I have a look of it? Not to copy it- obviously, I just want to see how others are wording the question."
You weren't even half as pretty as Lily.
"Of course, and I know you'd never cheat."
"You're the smartest witch in our year."
You tried not to mind other girls flirting with your boys.
Just because you knew that later that night they'd be back to your boys again, and only yours.
As she was about to go, she planted a soft kiss on the side of Remus' cheek, leaving him blushing softly as he bid her goodbye.
Your heart clenched, it was merely a pleasantry. You were being dramatic.
"Are you alright, dove?" Your head perked up at the sound of Remus' voice.
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You mused, albeit a bit absentmindedly.
"Are you tired?" He asked carefully.
"I am, actually..." You forced a sweet smile onto your lips, as he leaned down to kiss them softly.
That kiss was the last one that felt anything more than a chore, an obligation.
That was also your last kiss with Remus.
Cheering James on at the quidditch pitch was just the thrill you needed after that melancholy moment with Remus.
He soared through the field like he was on top of the world, the players scattered around the pitch for one common goal: to win.
Gryffindor had won the game with 60 points, and James had caught the snitch like usual.
This game was also a rain game.
Just as you were about to head down to showers when you spotted Lily excitedly trailing after James.
You knew full well that James chased Lily tirelessly since they started school, that was also well before you came into the picture.
You also knew that she wanted nothing to do with him or the other marauders, so what was with her infatuation now?
Why your boys? She couldn't find her own boys?
But maybe she was just being friendly, right? The boys would never ever cheat on you... right?
You heard Lily giggle as James so graciously held the curtain open for her to enter the locker room, and your heart clenched.
You followed them in, jealously.
"James?" You called, as James poked his head from the changing area. Sweat glistening off his abs.
"Hi, Y/N." He shut the curtain behind him, as if he had something to hide.
Also; he barely just called you by your first name.
"You didn't come to see me after the game?" You questioned, grazing his cheek gently as he spoke."
"Sorry, Y/N. It was a long one." He excused, as he clearly looked a bit flushed.
"You look red, are you dehydrated?"
"Godric, y/n. you are hardly my mum."
You giggled as if it was a joke, yet he seemed quite stone faced.
You cleared your throat embarrassingly once you realized.
"I... just wanted to congratulate you on another win." You forcefully smiled again.
"Thank you, I really appreciate that." Then, he flashed his classic grin at you.
The grin he hadn't flashed at you since he realized he genuinely liked you.
What the fuck?
"Victory kiss?" You asked quietly, with some false hope mixed in.
"Of course." He pecked your forehead quickly, before hurrying off back to his changing area.
And with that, you had also left the steamy tent and outside into the cool, soft rain once more.
A forehead kiss? whenever he used to give you victory kisses they'd be full-on make outs in that same changing room or the showers.
James was falling out of love with you, and you knew it.
Luckily, you could easily disguise your tears with the excuse of it raining.
"Victory kiss?" Lily mewled, from her position on the stool in his changing spot.
"Just on the forehead, lovely."
You stopped showing up to breakfast, as the one time you decided to go Lily was sat in your spot next to Sirius.
Dorcas was nearly at her wits end with the boys and their antics.
The motley crew of Slytherins were the only ones who knew of your relationship, and they were pissed off.
"Treasure, surely they aren't fucked enough to know that you are the best thing they've ever had!" Barty explained, laying upside-down on his bed across from you.
"I-It's no use, Jr." You cried softly, mirroring his position yet on your bed instead. The tears (and blood) rushing to your hairline instead of your face because Dorcas said 'Your makeup is too pretty to ruin, love.' .
"There is a use, Y/L/N. we'll kill them-"
"Jr, absolutely not." Regulus chided, rubbing your shoulder. "She's clearly upset, I don't see the issue."
"Murder is never a good option, Barty." Dorcas scolded gently.
"So what are we gonna do then? My Treasure can't go on like this!"
"You said you've already talked to James and Remus? Maybe you can go talk to... eh... Sirius." Clearly, that name was hard for Regulus to get out.
"*Sniff* yeah, yeah- I'll go talk to him..." You sat up half-hazardously, and strutted out of the dorm-room to go (hopefully) save your relationship.
You still remember the third of December.
Sirius lounged on the couch while speaking with the other marauders, about some sort of prank on the other group of Slytherins.
"And then, we'll-"
"Hi, Siri." You sat next to him, beaming up at him (hopefully).
"...y/n." He greeted casually, before continuing to talk.
Your smile faded, as he continued to talk to your other boyfriends friends about this horrible prank.
Instead of leaving, you sat quietly next to them, as if you were some decoration or trophy wife.
This was truly your breaking point, as you saw Lily sit down on the couches of the common room as she caught all of their attention, you hadn't seemed to do that for ages. Though, she was wearing something familiar...
Remus'... sweater...
Remus'- YOUR Remus' sweater.
"How's it look?" Lily asked, giving them a twirl. Their eyes locked on her.
"Gorgeous, doll." Sirius flirted, shooting her a wink.
"Truly a sight for sore eyes." James grinned.
"It looks better on you than it did me." Remus took her hand and helped her sit down on the couch in between him and James.
That's exactly what he said to you...
He put his arm 'round her shoulder,
suddenly you got colder.
She's got them mesmerized... while you die.
But how could you hate her?
She's such an angel...
But then again you wished she were dead.
"Why would you ever kiss me?" You asked impulsively.
"What?" James looked up from Lily, all eyes on you.
"I mean- I'm not even half as pretty."
"Y/n, You're overthinking it-" Remus started it.
"You gave her your sweater!" You shot back.
"It's just polyester!" Remus defended.
"But you like her better." You felt the tears rush to your waterline.
"We're done." You whispered, leaving Lily looking so confused and the common room dead quiet.
"What does she mean by that...?" Lily seemed horrified.
"We... weren't really dating.." Sirius attempted to defend.
"Yes, we were, you tosser!" James shoved him.
"You said yourself that you were bored of her!" Remus stated matter-of-factly.
"Was I seriously the other woman?" Lily mewled, her hands clutching the sides of her head.
"Nonono- No, we were planning to break up with her but- because we all wanted you-" Sirius tried again.
"Then don't fuck around with her feelings just to get me!" Lily yelled, standing up quickly.
"I appreciate the admiration- but I need time to process, okay? You all were absolute... arseholes to her, I'll admit." Lily started,
"Are you saying no?" James quickly cut in.
"...No..." Lily ended.
After crying your eyes out to Barty and Regulus over your breakup, December 7th rolled around.
The day that students were meant to be studying for their OWLS and other end of term exams.
You would usually be in the library 24/7.
Lily, had finally come around and accepted the boys' proposal, and their relationship became public quickly.
Lily obviously still felt this bitter taste of guilt in her mouth, as did all of them.
So today, Lily had convinced them all to apologize to you for borderline cheating and lying and manipulating and gaslighting-.
But, you were nowhere to be found.
"Regulus! Regulus, wait up!" Lily ran through the hallways to get to her.
"Evans, Brother.. Potter... and Lupin.." She said those last three names with utter disgust.
"We're trying to find Y/n, have you seen her?" Remus asked quietly, he was definitely feeling the most guilt.
"Y/n? Well, If she was here, I think she'd completely refuse to see you lot." Regulus explained bluntly.
"W-What do you mean "If she was here"?" James questioned.
"I mean, Her, Junior., and the Rosier twins completed their OWLS early and hightailed it to Junior's holiday house for the rest of the break." He explained casually.
"What?" Sirius scowled.
"What the hell is my girl-... Y/n doing with them?" James had the same expression as Sirius.
"They are simply better friends then you were to her, hm? I don't blame her."
"When will she be back?" Lily asked breathlessly.
"End of December, If she ever returns." Regulus strolled away, potions book in hand.
"...We fucked up."
Fin.
#marauders era#fem!reader#sirius black#remus lupin#marauders#fanfiction#james potter#poly!marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#lily evans#no lily slander#fanfic#angst no comfort#angst no happy ending
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CHAIN REACTION • JEY USO
author's note: i'm baaaaaack!!! I am officially done with finals which means the creative juices are flowing through the roof currently. all I gotta say about this fic right here is...yes I was indeed the one who gave jey's fine ass that 'yeet' chain he wore on that one episode of RAW and yes he does smell good as hell😫
synopsis: in which nyx had no idea how much her life would change with one gift to her favorite wrestler.
tags: 18+ (MDNI), jey uso x black fem oc, fluff, overstimulation, hotel sex, foreplay, spanking, oral ( fem receiving. ), size difference, daddy kink, sub / dom, drinking, unprotected sex, squirting, anal play (thumb in butt), pet names ( baby girl, honey, mama ), rough sex, praise kink.
word count: 3k words..yeah this is a big one y'all
nyx sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through instagram on her phone. her thumb hovered over a post from wwe’s official account, featuring jey uso cutting a promo backstage at tonight’s show. but what caught her attention wasn’t just how fine he looks—it was the sparkling, silver "YEET" chain resting against his inked chest, gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the promo setup.
her chain.
the one she’d nervously gifted to him at Fanatics Fest weeks ago, after waiting in line with a pounding heart and a stomach full of butterflies. he had grinned from ear to ear when she handed it to him, thanking her with so much warmth that her knees nearly buckled. now, seeing it on him as he spoke into the camera, shouting her out by calling her his “homegirl” paired with a sleek black Nike tracksuit that clung to his broad chest, had her swooning.
her phone pinged in her hand, snapping her out of her thoughts. as if she wasn’t already on cloud nine, it was a message request from none other than jey. her breath hitched as she opened it.
@uceyjucey: yo, mama, I had to find you after you blessed me with this chain. lookin’ fresh, huh? *sends attachment*
attached was a photo of him in the chain, smirking at the camera, lips slightly parted in a way that made nyx’s thighs clench together.
she blinked, rereading the message several times, before typing back with trembling fingers.
@nyx.xoxo: you’re welcome 🥹 It looks amazing on you, just like I thought it would.
he replied almost immediately, the three typing dots appearing before she could even close the app.
@uceyjucey: that’s ‘cause you got good taste, ma. you from the big apple?
@nyx.xoxo: born and raised!
@uceyjucey: that’s wassup. we in your city tonight. lemme thank you properly.
her heart raced as she read his words, the casual yet suggestive tone making her head spin. was he flirting with her? she couldn’t tell, but before she could overthink it, he sent another message.
@uceyjucey: pull up to the hilton on 34th. i’ll pour us somethin’ bubbly.
♡
the click of nyx’s heels echoed down the quiet hallway of the hilton as she approached jey’s door. her reflection caught in a mirror on the wall, and she quickly adjusted her dress, a form-fitting black number that hugged her curves in all the right places. her curls were styled to perfection, framing her beautiful face. she clutched her purse tightly, nerves bubbling under her skin.
when she knocked, the door opened a few moments later. jey stood there, leaning against the frame like a damn vision. the tracksuit was gone, replaced by a white tank that stretched across his chest revealing the tribal ink that decorated his arms and chest, and a pair of gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips. his chain still hung proudly around his neck, and he wore a boyish grin that made her stomach flip.
“damn,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he let his eyes wander over her. “you clean up nice, baby girl.” he mused.
nyx could feel her cheeks heating up as she stepped inside. his suite was spacious but cozy, which put her nerves at ease.
she moved towards him, every step feeling heavier as his presence filled the room. when she was close enough, his hands found her waist, pulling her in gently but firmly. he smelled so damn good—a mix of sandalwood with a hint of amber.
“you nervous?” he asked, his lips curving into that devastating grin that made her stomach flip.
nyx bit her lip, nodding slightly. “a little.”
jey chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “ain’t no need for that, mama. I got you.”
his hands slid down to her hips, his thumbs brushing the curve of her ass as he pulled her closer. “you want some champagne first? or we gon’ skip straight to what we both know we here for?”
the heat in his eyes made her thighs clench, but she managed to smirk. “you offering me a drink to calm my nerves or to get me tipsy?”
jey tilted his head, his grin widening. “maybe a lil’ of both.”
he guided her toward the small table by the window, where a bottle of champagne rested in a bucket of ice, two flutes sitting beside it. nyx perched on the edge of the chair as jey popped the bottle with practiced ease, pouring the golden liquid with a smooth confidence that had her transfixed.
he handed her a glass, their fingers brushing as she took it. “to you,” he said, raising his glass. “for that fire ass chain—and for comin’ all this way to see me.”
nyx’s cheeks warmed as they clinked glasses, the bubbles tickling her nose as she sipped. the champagne was crisp, and after a few sips, a soft warmth began spreading through her body, taking the edge off her nerves.
jey leaned back against the table, his eyes never leaving her. “you know I been thinkin’ about you since that convention, right?”
she looked up at him, surprised. “really?”
“hell yeah,” he said, setting his glass down and crossing his arms, the motion making his biceps strain against the fabric of his tee. “ain’t every day somebody does somethin’ like that for me. and then to see how fine you looked in person? shit. you had me hooked.”
nyx bit her lip, her heart racing. “I didn’t think you’d even remember me honestly.”
jey laughed, stepping closer until he was towering over her. “how could I forget you, mama?” He tilted her chin up with a finger, his gaze locking with hers. “you been on my mind nonstop.”
the air between them thickened, the champagne coursing through her veins making everything feel a little lighter, a little hazier. jey leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was soft but deliberate, testing the waters. when she kissed him back, he deepened it, his tongue sliding against hers in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made her toes curl.
“I knew you would taste sweet,” he murmured against her lips, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs, pulling her up out of the chair and against him.
nyx gasped as her body pressed flush to his, the hardness of his arousal pressing into her stomach. jey grinned, nipping at her bottom lip. “you feel it, don’t you?”
she nodded, her breath coming in shallow gasps as his hands roamed her curves, sliding up her back to unzip her dress. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in just her lace bra and panties.
“damn, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice husky as he pressed a kiss to her jaw, trailing it slowly down her neck. “you’re somethin’ else. you know that?”
nyx bit her lip, her heart fluttering at the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the world worth his attention. “you’re just saying that,” she said softly, though the warmth in her chest betrayed her.
jey pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his expression softening as his thumb brushed across her cheek. “nah,” he said, his tone firm. “ain’t nothin’ about this fake, honey. you’re gorgeous. all of you.”
her cheeks burned under his gaze, but before she could respond, jey dipped his head again, his lips brushing hers in a kiss so tender it made her ache. he laid her down on the plush bed, his hands slipped beneath her lace bra, palming her full breasts with a reverence that sent heat pooling between her thighs. when his thumbs brushed her sensitive nipples, she gasped, arching into his touch.
“sensitive, huh?” he teased, his grin widening as he undid her bra, tossing it aside. his lips found her breasts next, kissing and nipping his way across her soft brown skin before taking a nipple into his mouth. the wet warmth of his tongue combined with the gentle scrape of his teeth had her squirming beneath him, her fingers tangling in his hair.
“jey,” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whimper.
he hummed in response, his free hand trailing down her stomach, over the curve of her hips, before slipping beneath the waistband of her panties. when his fingers found her, he groaned low in his throat, his eyes darkening as he felt how wet she was for him.
“shit, ma,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “you’re so fuckin’ wet.”
nyx’s face burned at his words, but the embarrassment quickly melted into pleasure as he began to stroke her, his fingers sliding through her slick folds with practiced ease. his thumb brushed her clit in slow, deliberate circles, and she moaned, her hips bucking against his hand.
“that’s it, baby girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he worked her. “lemme hear you. don’t hold back on me.”
she didn’t. the sounds spilling from her lips were shameless, each one spurring jey on as he explored her body with the kind of focus that left her trembling. when he slipped a finger inside her, curling it just right, she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“fuck, jey,” she gasped, her chest heaving as he added a second finger, stretching her in a way that made her toes curl.
“you’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “you’re gonna feel so good wrapped around me, baby. can’t fuckin’ wait.”
the promise in his words sent her over the edge. her body tensed, her thighs trembling as her orgasm crashed over her, a broken moan tearing from her throat as she spewed a few broken curse words. jey didn’t stop, his fingers coaxing her through the aftershocks until she was panting, her body limp in his hold.
“good girl,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”
before she could catch her breath, jey slid down her body, kissing his way across her stomach until he was settled between her thighs. he hooked his arms around her legs, holding her open as he stared down at her with a hunger that made her shiver.
“jey…” she started, her voice shaky.
he looked up at her, his grin both wicked and reassuring. “relax, baby. daddy just wants a taste.”
and then his mouth was on her.
nyx’s head fell back against the pillows, her hands fisting in the sheets as jey worked her pussy with his tongue. he was slow and deliberate, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of her, teasing her clit with featherlight flicks before sucking it gently into his mouth.
“oh my god,” she moaned, her thighs shaking as he pushed her closer to the edge once again.
jey groaned against her, the vibration sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her. “you taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “could eat this pussy all night.”
his fingers joined his mouth, sliding back inside her as he continued to devour her, and it wasn’t long before she was crying out his name again, her body trembling as another orgasm ripped through her.
“j-jey, I c-can’t—” she started tapping his shoulder, her voice breaking as he kept going, his mouth and fingers relentless.
“yes, you can,” he murmured, his voice firm but soothing. “one more, baby girl. give me one more.”
she didn’t think she had it in her, but jey didn’t give her a choice. his thumb brushed her clit as he pressed his tongue against her tight hole, the combination sent her over the edge once more, her body shaking as she gushed into his mouth.
when she finally opened her eyes, jey was hovering over her again, his lips glistening as he grinned down at her.
“you okay, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice soft.
nyx nodded, her chest still heaving as she reached up to pull him down for a kiss. “I’m okay,” she murmured against his lips.
jey chuckled, his hands trailing down her sides. “good. ‘cause I ain’t done yet.”
nyx’s shaking thighs clenched at his words, her breath catching as jey’s large, rough hands gripped her thighs, spreading her open again beneath him.
jey leaned back just enough to peel off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. her eyes roamed his torso, taking in every curve of muscle and tribal art that painted his skin. he looked down at her with a lazy, almost predatory grin, his confidence radiating from every inch of him.
“see somethin’ you like, baby girl?” he teased, his hands sliding down to hook his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats.
nyx nodded, her voice temporarily failing her. the sight of him, combined with the lingering sensitivity of her body, left her feeling shy but burning with anticipation.
jey stepped out of his sweats, his dick hard and heavy slapping lightly against his stomach, the sheer size of him making her stomach flip. he stroked himself slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he settled back onto the bed between her thighs.
“don’t look so scared, mama,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “you handled me just fine earlier. you can do it again.”
nyx bit her lip, a nervous laugh escaping her. “you’re so sure of yourself,” she muttered, though the warmth in her tone betrayed her.
“and you love it,” Jey shot back, leaning down to kiss her again. his hand trailed up her thigh. “now relax for me. I’m gonna take my time with you.”
he lined himself up, the thick head of his length brushing against her entrance. nyx gasped, eyes rolling to the back of her head, her hands gripping his forearms as he pushed into her slowly, stretching her inch by inch.
“shit, baby,” he groaned, his jaw clenching as he sank deeper. “you feel so fuckin’ good. your pussy is so damn tight.”
nyx whimpered beneath him, her body trembling as he filled her completely. the stretch was intense, but the way he kissed her, his lips soft and reassuring against hers, made it easier to take.
“you good?” he asked, his voice gentle as he stilled, giving her time to adjust.
she nodded, her nails digging into his shoulders. “yeah,” she whispered. “feels so good…”
his grin returned, his confidence flaring as he pulled back slightly before sinking into her again, his movements slow and deliberate. “that’s my girl,” he murmured. “take me in baby.”
he started to move, his thrusts deep and steady, each one sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her. nyx’s head fell back against the pillows, her moans filling the room as jey set a rhythm that had her toes curling.
“fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his hands gripping her hips as he began to pick up the pace. “this pussy was made for me, baby. you hear me?”
“yes, daddy” nyx gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he buried his face in her neck, sucking and biting at her skin. the mix of pain and pleasure made her head spin, her body arching into him as he fucked into her deeper, pressing against all the spots that made her see stars.
“you’re mine tonight, mama,” he growled, his voice thick with possession. “ain’t nobody else gonna make you feel like this.”
he shifted her legs, hooking one over his shoulder to get even deeper, and the new angle had nyx crying out, her nails raking down his back.
“that’s it, baby girl,” jey groaned, his hand sliding up her body to wrap around her throat. he applied just enough pressure to make her head spin, his thumb brushing her jaw as his eyes locked onto hers. “you look so fuckin’ pretty like this.”
nyx whimpered, her body trembling beneath him as she teetered on the edge of another orgasm. “jey, daddy I’m gonna—”
“do it,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “cum for me, baby. show daddy how good I make you feel.”
his words pushed her over the edge, her body clenching around him as she gushed around him once again, leaving her trembling and breathless.
but jey wasn’t done. he grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her stomach before pulling her onto all fours. “we’re not done yet, baby girl,” he said, his voice dripping with hunger as he lined himself up again.
the first thrust had her crying out, her body still sensitive from her climax. jey groaned, his hands gripping her waist as he fucked her harder now, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.
“look at you,” he muttered, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack that made her gasp. “takin’ me so good, baby girl.”
nyx buried her face in the pillows, her moans muffled as jey drove her closer to the edge once again. his thumb slid down, teasing her puckered hole, and when he pressed it in just slightly, the sensation alone made her cum once again.
“shit, baby,” Jey groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “that’s it, that’s my good girl, give me that shit.”
when he finally came, it was with a low, guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he spilled his load into her. he stayed there for a moment, both of them catching their breath before he pulled out carefully, rolling onto his back and pulling her into his arms.
nyx plopped her head on his chest, her body still trembling as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. jey kissed the top of her head, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.
“you good, baby girl?” he asked softly.
she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “yeah. that was fun.”
“good,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “’cause you’re stayin’ right here with me tonight.”
and with that, nyx let herself relax completely. boy does she have a story to tell her friends soon.
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𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥
nonidol!yoon jeonghan x gn!reader
2.3k words, fluff, comfort, reader is sick, technically a college au, light swearing, mentions of food, mentions of cold medication, tbh i know i advocate for platonic fics but i am also just a girl. so he does pine a little lol, slice-of-life-ish, barely proofread
a/n: there is like no plot, i just am feeling ooey-gooey about svt rn heh :') been watching so much gose recently and it's healing my soul
Yoon Jeonghan was many things, but oblivious was not one of them. “Oh my god, you're sick,” were his first words to you when you opened your apartment door. His voice was droning, perfectly unimpressed, but it masked the concern attempting to skirt its way to the surface.
“It's not that” —your sorry attempt at denial crumbled like a house of cards as you turned away to cough into your elbow. The taste of metal lingered in the back of your throat and you winced, reaching into your bag to grab your water bottle. After swallowing down a generous helping, you said to him without looking him in the eye, “I'm fine.”
Jeonghan blinked. “That's really cute,” he replied with a thin smile. “Back inside.”
“But Jeonghan—”
“No.” He grabbed you firmly by your shoulders and steered you back into your apartment, his body waddling in behind you because of your balking in the doorway. He kicked the front door shut, shucking his shoes off with uncanny accuracy into an empty space on the shoe rack. “Shoes off, Yn-ah. Don't start an argument you won't win.”
You grumbled under your breath, but did as you were told. All the while, Jeonghan smoothed a hand over his jaw, performing mental gymnastics. How did you get sick? How much time did he have before he needed to get to campus? Could he reasonably make you soup before he needed to leave for his exam?
The first question was easy to answer. He internally smacked himself—last night: your runny nose, the vitamin C powder you added to your water, your shivers on the walk home from the library. Oh, fuck. He should have driven. Why did he make you both walk in that cold?
Guilt coursed through him as he directed you back into your bedroom.
It was a quarter to 8, meaning he didn't have time to make you ramen and make it to his exam before the doors closed.
“I have so much shit to do today” —another horrid cough rattled through you, and Jeonghan frowned to himself as he snatched the extra blanket out of your closet— “I can't… Hannie, there's so much I need to—”
“I know, Yn-ah,” he said softly, eyes sad and tender as he bundled you up in three layers until you were likely unable to unwrap yourself. He perched by your side, his palm grazing over your forehead to take your temperature. Hot. Not good. “But if you don't take care of yourself now, it'll only get worse.”
He glanced at his phone. Five to 8—he still had fifteen minutes. It was a blessing that you lived closer to campus than he did.
“I hate when you're right,” you muttered. The lower half of your face was tucked beneath the edges of your blankets, so all he saw were your tired, glaring eyes.
He smirked to himself, a fuzziness warming his chest. So petulant. “You always do,” he mused. “What did you have to do today? I'll try and help out as best I can.”
Your glare softened at the corners and your eyes flitted away from him. “It's okay. I'll deal with it all when I wake up. I—wait.” Your eyes shot wide open. “You have that exam today! You have to leave—what time is it?”
“Yah, I'll make it,” he laughed. “Worry about yourself.”
“You literally said last night that you were worried about failing—”
“And now I'm worried about you,” he countered. Satisfaction brought an impish twinkle to his eyes as you scowled at him again. “But fine, I'll leave if you insist.”
He rose from the edge of the bed, picking his backpack up to sling over his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
With his back toward you, he could allow himself to grin. “What was that?” he called back innocently.
“Don't fail.”
He huffed out another laugh as he reached the threshold of your bedroom doorway. Jeonghan wondered briefly if he should coax that thank you out of your mouth again, but he really did need to leave. It was awful. Everything in him was ready to throw away this exam to stay here with you. “Go to sleep, honey. I'll see you when you wake up.”
Three hours later, Jeonghan shouldered his way into your apartment, his backpack on his shoulders, his mind far away from that disgusting exam he finished, and his hands occupied with a grocery bag of items he picked up on his way here. When he left earlier, he had swiped your keys on the way out so he could let himself back in without waking you up. He dumped those very keys onto the table by the door, the gazillion key chains attached to the one carabiner clattering inelegantly loud.
He glanced over at your closed door, hoping he didn't just wake you up.
With a little less noise, he abandoned his backpack by the couch and made his way over to the kitchen. While he had made it in time to his exam, it had taken more willpower to center his attention on the exam itself rather than letting his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do after he was done. The to-do list spanned about five items: buy cold medicine and orange juice, decide on what food to make you, buy the ingredients for that food, persuade your TA to let him pick up your graded essay (that one, he saw on a sticky note by your desk), and come back to take care of you.
(If the TA grading his exam took note of the small list he'd jotted down in the top corner of page five, no they didn't.)
There had been several ideas of what he could make you once he was free. He had stared at the row of vegetables in the produce department for a good ten minutes before he decided on something less usual. He could make instant ramen, but that didn't seem like the healthiest option for him to feed you. There was also seaweed soup—did he have the time to go to another store to find what he needed? No.
His next great idea was something simple, but delicious: chicken noodle soup.
Jeonghan rummaged around your cabinets, locating the things he needed—cutting board, knife—he opened a door and sighed to himself. So you did have pasta already. Great.
He examined the box of dried elbow macaroni and compared it to the bowtie pasta he'd picked out. “Mine’s better,” he muttered, shelving your macaroni and bumping the cabinet closed.
In the largest pot he could find, he brewed up a hearty chicken soup, using the bones from the rotisserie chicken he bought to add more richness to the broth's flavoring. Every carrot, onion, and celery stalk he sliced, and every piece of chicken he shredded, was done deftly and with great care. This was for you, after all, and if this soup could help you get better, then he would make it the best damn thing you'd ever tasted.
There were plenty of things Jeonghan didn't want to do or weaseled his way out of, but he could be running on one hour of sleep, and he would still haul his ass up to make kimchi from scratch if you asked him to.
He was stationed behind the stove, tasting the soup for adjustments, when he heard your bedroom door open.
Jeonghan peered over his shoulder and smiled at the bundle of blankets waddling your way out into the main room, your hair sticking up in odd places, and your eyes still at half mast. “Good morning, sleepy head. How're you feeling?”
“Meh,” you said hoarsely, clearing your throat. You squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. “What're you making? It smells nice.”
“Hm? Oh, I made you some soup. Go take the medicine on the counter and sit down; I'll bring you a bowl.”
As he reached over to grab another pinch of salt, he heard you tearing open the box of cold medicine behind him.
A moment passed by of quiet, but his heart leapt straight into his throat as he felt a soft weight rest against his back. “Thank you, Hannie,” you murmured, forehead pressed between his shoulders.
There were about a dozen things running through his mind at the moment—things he could say, things he could do. He was an ounce of willpower away from melting on the spot, but the heat rising from the soup pot kept him upright. “Aish… thank me by getting better, okay?”
You hummed in acknowledgment and lifted yourself off his back. When you hobbled away to sit down at the table, Jeonghan couldn't brush away the feeling that the spot your head had rested was now cold.
“How was the” —cough— “the exam?”
Jeonghan glanced over at you as he carefully ladled soup into two bowls. He hummed, “Could've been better, but can't really do anything about it now.”
“I'm sure you did good,” you replied, holding out your hands like a kid waiting for their turn to get candy from a jar as Jeonghan made his way over to you with the soup. “You always say you did bad when you actually scored in the top ten percent.”
“Careful, honey, it's hot.” Jeonghan continued to hold the bowl even as you cupped it in your hands, until it safely reached the table. Only then did he seat himself down adjacent to you. “Yeah, well, you always said I should be more humble,” he joked.
You picked up your spoon and gestured at him with it. “Humility and lying are different things,” you said pointedly. “Anyways, thank you. This looks really yummy.”
“I don't lie,” he drawled with a twinkle in his eye. He leaned his cheek against his fist and watched as you took a spoonful and gently blew on the hot liquid. The delight that lit up your face was enough to make him happy for a century. He inclined his chin. “Good?”
“Very good. Sometimes I forget that you're good at cooking, too.”
“Not like Mingyu though,” he chuckled and brought a spoonful up to his lips.
You shot him a look. “You don't always have to compare yourself, Hannie-ah. I'm not talking about Mingyu right now.”
Maybe I just want to make sure, he thought, then brushed it under that large, metaphorical rug in his mind. Jeonghan gave a half-hearted shrug.
Your mouth flattened into a displeased line. His grin widened.
When the both of you finished as many helpings as you had the appetite for, Jeonghan graciously offered to wash the dishes. He practically anchored you to the couch by wrapping you in yet another blanket—it was a double-edged sword; you were quite cute like that and he had half the mind to ditch the dishes. Once done with his task, he plucked out a dose of cold medication to take for himself, as well.
You eyed him from the couch as he swallowed the pills with a glass of orange juice. “Did I get you sick already?” you asked, your voice having become more nasally from your stuffy nose.
“Not yet,” he said, “it's just preventative measures since I'm gonna be hanging around you.”
“You're not leaving?”
Your words were one thing, but the way you peered over the back of the couch at him and the upward intonation in your voice told him something else. He smiled to himself as he walked over to the couch with his juice. “No, I was going to help you finish your work for the day, but if you want me to leave, I—”
“Only if you're not afraid of getting sick,” you said quickly.
He sighed with an air of melodrama. “I suppose I can stay after all.” He brought out his laptop and the essay he finagled from your TA, vaguely mentioning something about his careful white lies in order to accomplish his mission. It was truly something only Jeonghan could pull off and get away with.
The first item on your to-do list was to send out a couple emails.
Jeonghan felt the weight of your head fall onto his shoulder, and he glanced down at you in amusement. “You're not falling asleep on me, are you?” he teased, his fingers paused from the email he was typing out while you dictated the wording.
You shifted your head. “No, I'm still awake. Do you think this sounds too bubbly?”
“It’s not too bubbly,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “But the thing is you're not this agreeable in real life—aish! Haha, hey! Don't hit me!”
He could imagine your cute, little scowl. “I am incredibly agreeable.”
“Yes, yes.” Jeonghan lightly pat your head. “You're very lovely, Yn-ah.”
You chose to ignore the impish tone in his voice. It was what he wanted you to do anyway—believe that he thought you were lovely.
It was difficult to parse out how much time passed, but at some point, the TV was turned on to a random channel playing some 90s sitcom, and his laptop was ditched on the coffee table. Jeonghan's legs ended up sprawled across the length of the couch while your layers of blankets covered both of you. Your head rested comfortably on his chest as he continued to watch TV in silent contentment.
Jeonghan was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn't oblivious to the fact that you took the wrong cold medicine. The box he bought had both daytime and nighttime meds, the latter of which contained melatonin to aid with uninterrupted sleep. He didn't say anything earlier when he realized, but it wasn't like he could say anything now.
He glanced down at your face, his hand cupping the back of your head with too much tenderness for friendship. You were asleep; there was nothing he could do, no jokes to make or fun to poke.
Him, his thoughts, and you.
But this was fine. He was happy and warm like the perfect bowl of soup filling an empty stomach, and he had no intention of leaving until he knew that you were better. As his eyes slowly drooped closed, he sank further into the blankets and your hold, soul nourished.
a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed <3
svt m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @meosjinnn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @floatingpluto @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @eunseok-s @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @fluorescentloves @thesunsfullmoon @haechansbbg @kpopjackie @jundundun @http-gyu @mars101 @moonyswolf @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @thecarnivaloflies @p-d1ddy @thatonedemigodfromseoul @foivetimesthecharm
#bjnet#seventeen x reader#yoon jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen drabbles#seventeen oneshot#seventeen comfort#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan oneshot#jeonghan drabbles#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan imagines
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5k event request :P
Kazuha, light stick, and fluff please
a/n hi anon! when i saw light stick, i instantly interpreted it as those kpop light sticks,, im not sure if u meant something else like those glow sticks, so i am hoping this was what u meant HAHA
wc 700, idol!kazuha/fan!reader, im sure u guys have heard of the 6REEZE group somewhere, meet-cute; disclaimer i only know how auction works from my classmates roleplaying them so ignore accuracies for fic’s sake. bless.
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
Kazuha, to be frank, felt a little embarrassed.
His features stood out too much, his friends told him. To go out and enjoy the fresh air of the day, he had to not enjoy the fresh air with a face mask, conceal his red streak of hair by clipping it back and burying it under a cap, and wear green-tinted sunglasses (also to disguise the red of his eyes) that he was struggling to get used to.
In his defense, His friends weren’t any better. Aether’s braid could be recognized with only that, Venti’s glowing braids weren’t any better, Heizou’s shade of hair and green eyes would stand out—if not his unique voice, and everyone knew Xiao even if he were to shave all his hair off. Scaramouche could be salvageable, but one word from his mouth and his fans would fall to their knees—it could be his voice, but it would be the attitude.
Kazuha felt a little too hot with his disguise, but he wanted this, so he would go through with it. He tugged his mask under his nose, relaxing at the scent of the open air. The mall had an open area with trees all over; the leaves fell to the ground, and the wind brushed past. Kazuha couldn’t feel it, having been stuffed under layers, but he was satisfied.
Although it felt embarrassing to be clothed in this disguise, he couldn’t go outside this freely before. He was going to make the most of it.
And then he passed by a stall that had him doing a double take. Kazuha took a few steps back, lighting up with recognition. He couldn’t be mistaken, not with that familiar symbol of Anemo. The stall displayed a light stick of their group, released only a few days ago.
His friends would have a blast if he came back with it, most likely, Kazuha mused. Maybe he could bring it back as a gift.
A hand shot out from the side, blocking his view of the light stick. Kazuha blinked, a little surprised. He followed the arm's stretch and came face-to-face with an angry stranger.
“Hey, you!” you said. Kazuha felt like he needed to stand straighter at the tone. “I had my eye on this one first, ‘kay? Whatever number you have in mind—keep it. I finally get my hands on one of these; I’m not letting it go!”
“Oh, this was an auction?” he asked curiously. The stall didn’t seem to be being run by anyone at the moment, and no one else was there.
“Well, no,” you sniffed, “but I would win. I already told the seller I called dibs on this one—wait until she gets back.”
Charmed, Kazuha smiled. “Two thousand.”
“Three.”
“Three-thousand, five hundred?”
“Five-thousand, three hundred.”
Kazuha had to wonder: “How much do these usually cost?”
“Five thousand, if you’re lucky. I’ll make it ten thousand, easy. Are you still not backing down?”
Kazuha laughed under his breath. Were you serious? Were you actually willing to drop that much for this? “Alright, I cede. I apologize for attempting to defeat you.”
You grinned, eyes sparkling quite literally as your gaze slid back to the lightstick. You were very pretty. “Yeah, I thought so.” You eyed him curiously; Kazuha suddenly felt a little shy. “Are you a fan as well?”
Kazuha nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from your genuine smile for a few moments. His eyes drifted down to your shirt, which had the same Vision of the lightstick—but there was something else. “You could say that.”
Your shirt had maple leaves swirling around the logo, and Kazuha could recognize it all too well because he was asked to sit down and draw it for their merchandise—something personal for each member. Did Kazuha have the right to suspect what it meant that you were wearing his?
Emboldened, Kazuha gestured at the lightstick. “As a fellow enthusiast, may I extend my offer to cover this purchase?”
You blinked and stuttered. “W-What— You don’t have to! I literally stole it from you!”
“So you confess that you pried it off of me?” Kazuha teased.
“That’s not—Listen—” You stared at him, then got flustered. “Hold on, are you hitting on me?”
“Yes.” He took off his sunglasses and tugged down his mask, flashing a sweet smile that he knew was utterly unfair. Your face bluescreened out of pure shock. Without the mask muffling his voice, it was clear as day. “So, will you let me?”
#606: 5K EVENT#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kaedehara kazuha x reader#kaedehara kazuha x you
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Fic masterlist | Masterlist
SUCROSE
Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Spencer gets courage to tell what he truly feels (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love)
Word account: 1271
Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety,
A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like, and comment. I am accepting suggestions for the next parts. Please be nice. The Gif is not mine. Credits to the oner
Chapter 4: Declaration
Spencer’s Point of View
As soon as we are back to the job, it seems that the only thing people know to talk about is her.
I am glad they liked her. It is a good thing. But I can't help that little jealousy lingering in my stomach.
One of the things that makes everything worse is the fact that right now, I am in the jet with the team, going for a case away from her, away from my most sweet Sugar, that I daydream about actually tasting.
“So, that girl… she is marriage material.”
“Rossi is the one to know. He has ben married so many times”
Morgan chuckles at his own joke.
“Which makes me an expert, I recognize marriage material when I see it. And that girl…”
“Rossi is right, she is the type to commit.”
Why is Hotch interfering? He usually separates personal involvement and work place.
“Can we stop talking about it?”
“Reid, if you don’t step on, make a move… you may lose the chance. A woman does not wait forever.”
“Why is everybody getting so involved in my personal life?”
“Because you don’t have much of a personal life.”
“I have so much not one of you knew about her until I introduced her and she has been my friend for years.”
“Do you want to be her friend, or do you wish to be more?”
“If you feel insecure, just let me remind this genius brain that she proudly said you are friends and affirmed that she does love you, and that she felt no shame admitting it.”
“It amuse us that you ain’t a couple yet.”
—-----------------------------------
The conversation keeps repeating in my head, and I should take the risk, she deserves to know about my feelings… I don’t want to ruin our friendship… we could be more, I wish to be more… be breve Spencer, she never will be mean to you, there is no reason to be afraid. I will write a letter and hope for the answer.
—-----------------------------------
Dear Sugar
"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." - Jane Austen, from "Pride and Prejudice"
As much information as my mind can contain, nothing seems enough to describe my feelings for you. I am aware of your taste for Austin, I even consider receding her books to you but I fear my mouth will betray me, that my feelings will take over and my nerves will stop me from doing what I so much want to.
I will not be able to tell you all the thoughts that run in my imagination when I think of you. You. My Sugar. Not truly mine, but I strongly wish for that to become true.
Sugar, I am yours, I am all yours, body, soul, mind, beliefs… I pray that, if there is a haven for me to be blessed with your presence, because you are my paradise. You are my love. My muse. And so much more
"Love is the poetry of the senses." - Honoré de Balzac
You awakened me, I didn’t know the world could be so cozy, that being alive could be so wonderful, until we met. A rainy day, that a stranger just took under my umbrella. Change all, that simple act, that smile, the bad jokes… the more I know you, the more I want.
You are something I never thought to get in my life, cause I didn’t even know it existed, they don’t talk about it, they don’t write about it, they don’t paint it. They try, as I am doing right now. And we all fail, cause it is impossible to describe. I didn’t believe in the impossible until I met you.
"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired." - Robert Frost
I wish for you to want me too, for my Sugar to love her Sugarpout.
I may not have much to offer you, but I offer all I have, I give you all I have. I donate all my being for you.
"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own." - Robert A. Heinlein
I wish for you to be happy, even if I am not your happiness.
I would never interfere with your well being, all I wish is the best for you.
I love you.
Love you so much.
If you ask, I am out of your life, even if that is not what I want.
As much as I want for you to be mine as I am yours.
What I truly, dearly and onest want and wish for is for your safety and happiness.
"Love is not just a feeling; it is a calling, a force that can transform and redeem even the most broken of souls. It is the fire that burns within us, the light that guides us through the darkest of nights. Love is the eternal thread that weaves together the tapestry of our existence." - Fyodor Dostoevsky, from "The Brothers Karamazov"
Infinity yours, Sugarpout.
"Love is the joy of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods." - Plato
—------------------------------
I sent the letter to her, and my heart sinks in my chest, anxiety runs to all my cells. The air seems not to get to my lungs, I can only imagine her.
Hope for a positive answer.
Hope she understands my feelings.
Hope she won't leave me.
—------------------------------------
Y/N’s Point of view
My eyes couldn’t believe it.
My heart skipped beats,and then it has never beaten faster.
It is a love letter.
Sugarpout wrote me a lover letter.
I am excited, happy… there are so many emotion.
I am knocking at his door. And I can not restrain myself, just using my key and open it, searching for my love.
As soon as my eyes land on him, is like if the sun is kissing me. I hold his letter in one hand, and my letter in the other.
He is looking at me, expectant, anxious.
I rise my piece of paper, that contain just a phrase, well… two phrases.
—------------------------------
I LOVE YOU
Ps: Yes, I want to be your girlfriend.
—------------------------------
He is also smiling, looking my letter that practically covers my face, with a gentle touch he takes the paper from my hands.
“I know I could have written something better, but after… I was just so anxious. I love you Spencer Walter Reid. I love you Sugarpout. My Sugarpout”
“I love you. Deep. Infinity. Just as gravity binds celestial bodies together, love intertwines souls in an invisible cosmic dance. And I hope to dance with you in the infinity and beyond that"
“May I touch you?”
“Yes.” Hands on my back, as I hug him back, letting my hand touch his soft hair. “May I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
His lips find mine.
It is as if life itself had touched me for the first time. Like the gentle brush of a bee against a flower, a love kiss, the delicate touch of life awakening. The electric current surges through our veins, igniting our souls with a spark of divine connection. In that fleeting moment, lips meet, and the universe holds its breath, as if time itself bows to the sacredness of this intimate union. It is the whisper of eternity, the language of the heart, speaking volumes in a single embrace. A love kiss, like the touch of life, breathes vitality into our existence, reminding us that in the realm of love, we are truly alive.
--------------------------
A/N: This is the end of my first fic. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Maybe I will do more fics... let's see what happens.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Fic masterlist | Masterlist
Tag List: @mikitsuki
#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#criminalminds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid fluff#spencer x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid imagines#spencer reid scenario
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I am done bottling up this story, I gotta talk about it bcs I'm so happy with it, I'm obsessed with it.
So that Rosinante x Reader x Doflamingo fic where Reader is Rosinante's wife is called...
Drums pls
🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁
I’ll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother)
Part 1 is all about Rosinante x Reader (& Law my bby boy 🥹🥺), Part 2 which is all about Doflamingo x Reader might turn into another part cus I want to cover the pre-baby and then post-baby and I don't think with all the ideas I have one part will be enough.
I like to call this fic “Doflamingo takes Rosinante's wife and baby as his own because he is the older one and Rosinante is dead anyway but damn what a sick thing to do but also really fits Doffy, good luck, girl, you're stuck with the terrible brother” or “Doflamingo trauma dumps to Reader and attempts to gaslight Reader”
The amount of times I said "THIS PINK BITCH 😡😡🤬🤬" while writing Part 2 is INSANE. HOLY FUCK HE DESERVES TO BE THROWN INTO THE SEA. LET THE SEA KINGS EAT HIM, HOLY FUCK THIS PINK BASTARD.
Anyway, here is a snippet of one of the scenes 😊
“You know, Tsuru-san…” said Doflamingo casually as he strutted to the window, grabbing his large pink feather coat from the hanger, swinging it over his broad shoulders as he went. He placed his right foot atop the windowsill; the sound of his shoe landing on it resounded in your ears ominously. With the saw-like, terrible sound of his strings, he pulled open the window, letting in the fresh spring breeze. You smelled the cherry blossoms in the distance. He turned from the window toward Vice Admiral Tsuru, a large grin on his face. “One day I’ll be the one kicking you marines out,” said Doflamingo darkly, smiling at Tsuru, the expression sharp and promising. Vice Admiral Tsuru looked incredibly bored by the implication. “You don’t have that kind of power, even as a warlord.” said Tsuru, staring back at him, unafraid. “We’ll see, dear Tsuru,” mused Doflamingo, chuckling, offering another unnerving smile before saying, “After all, what can a marine do against a god?” Your blood ran cold. You felt your stomach clench in fear. Despite his eyes being concealed behind his sunglasses, you felt his gaze shift to you at the same time as he turned to face you, and you fought back a shiver. “See you next weekend, querida.” said Doflamingo, and smiled at you. The curl of his lips was soft, the grin of pearly white teeth charming and pleasant, the dimples on his cheeks more gentle than the ones present in the smile he’d aimed at Vice Admiral Tsuru. Even his deep voice sounded impossibly softer. Doflamingo didn’t look frightening in that moment at all. He looked quite charming and handsome, like some divine being offering you the rarest of blessings. You decided not to think about the fact you could now read his emotions by his smiles. In a flutter of pink feathers, Doflamingo leapt off of your windowsill. You saw the gleam of his strings in the sunlight as he unwound them from his fingers, attaching them to the clouds, using them to soar forward over the bay of Marineford, the blur of his pink figure reflected on the surface of the sea. After glancing down at it, you realised the bracelet of white-pink pearls Doflamingo had crafted you had the exact same pearls as the necklace of red pearls he wore around his neck. You watched the pink little cloud of Doflamingo grow farther and farther away, becoming smaller and smaller against the canvas of endless blue. You stepped away from the window, and hoped the sky next weekend would be cloudless. A woman can hope.
The Doffy smile that flashes across my mind for the scene where he says bye is the one from this manga panel:
Taglist: @fanaticsnail
#doflamingo x reader#donquixote doflamingo x reader#x reader#one piece#donquixote doflamingo#wip#doffy x reader
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GR RPF FIC REC MASTERLIST!!
Long post!
Big shoutout to @arsenalgbt for suggesting i made a list, here are my fave GR fics, im a multishipper so it will be a couple or ships here, anyway, enjoy!
I wanted to also thank all the authors here listed for their awesome contributions to this lovely fandom, im really grateful for all your work <3333333
If any of the authors here listed would rather have their work taken down from this list please let me know .
new year's resolution by @wormeo-and-juliette
Pairing: OT3 Fernando Alonso/George Russell/Lance Stroll
Lance gets the text from Fernando well into the afternoon on the first day of the year: I slept with George.
Um. What?
eagle eyed by @prettydangrotten
Pairing: OT3 Alex Albon/George Russell/Logan Sargeant
“He’s watching, you know,” Alex says, voice level and conversational, like Logan being in the room is a normal part of this experience, “he’s hard.”
i’m your number one (it’s so obvious) by @63historian
Pairing: OT3 Lewis Hamilton/George Russell/Max Verstappen
“Tell him what you want, Georgie.”
He clenches his hole just as he starts begging, “I need you to come inside me, please, Max, please, I want it so bad.”
And who is Max not to obey such beautiful cries?
positive negatives by @ctimenefic
Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell
George doesn’t regret that shoot, exactly.
He had for a long time. After the first high of seeing the rushes wore off; after overhearing a murmured warning in general casting, days too late; after he woke up at three am to reread the release he’d blithely signed without thinking, and spent the next four hours staring at the ceiling hoping to wake up. He’d regretted it then.
For years after, the memory of it could hit like an ice cube sliding down his spine. Always, of course, at the most inconvenient moments. When he was working, or networking, when he needed his wits about him, couldn’t afford to stutter over his words. They’d put him in white silk, or offer him wine, or he’d walk into a room with slow, warm jazz playing, and the whole excruciating mess of it all would come back. He’d learnt how to smile through it, then how not to blink at all.
June is the coldest month of the year by @beabnormal24
Pairing: Max Verstappen/ George Russell
“Just don’t be a stranger, yeah?” It doesn’t sound as empty as George would’ve expected.
Max disappears in Monaco’s breeze with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket and his head turned to the side to look at the coast following him, or it’s him who follows the coast. It’s not that simple to guess when George feels the way he does about him.
He stares at the broad expanse of his back until he’s nothing more than a distant figure just like any other person around and he can pretend that he’s no one in the middle of the world.
The blessing of anonymity, he muses, gripping at the hems of his sleeves.
All of a sudden, his chest feels quiet.
nobody else by ginnydear
Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell
The Mercedes garage is almost overwhelmingly busy when Alex walks through the crowds of officials there.
or... what if the world was suddenly plunged into omegaverse and everyone started presenting at once... pt two.
table in the back by @janinaduszejko
Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell
“Okay, here’s the offer." Alex says. "I’m going to make you something and if you don’t like it, you don’t pay. How does that sound?”
“So I get a good meal or a free meal?” George asks. “Sounds like a no-lose scenario.”
“Keen eye, George,” Alex grins. “Figured out my terrible business sense on the first try. Alright, take it or leave it.”
all green lights
Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell
Sorry mate I think you've got the wrong number
chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin' out over the line
Pairing: OT3 George Russell/Lance Stroll/Fernando Alonso
Lance and Fernando have been together for over two years and it is great. It is great apart from one minor detail. They are both dominant tops and the irritation is starting to grind them down. Enter Lance's ex-whatever, George Russell.
But George is not going to be as easy to get on board as Lance and Fernando think. He will give his whole heart but you have to open it up first.
DISCLAIMER: THE FIC IS NOW ON PERMANENT HIATUS
Very common crisis (series) by crimandclove
Pairing: George Russell/ Lance Stroll
January 2024 - George finds himself single, stressed, with a set of tits & one Lance Stroll in his home.
Calls and Cats by @raewritesf1
Pairing: George Russell/Max Verstappen
Things go awry when George’s video call with the quartet is interrupted by the form of a familiar half-naked Dutch driver wielding a Bengal cat in the background.
spread before you like a picnic by @janinaduszejko
Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell
Now, weeks later, he thinks that was probably the reason he’d said it, why when he came back to himself and noticed that Alex had manhandled him on his stomach and was in the process of peeling George’s jeans down, his first instinct was to say, panicky: “You can’t fuck me.”
it's not about having someone to love me anymore by linearity
Pairings: Alexander Albon/George Russell, George Russell/Toto wolff
George is an omega. He kind of hates himself for it.
Brake Balance by @russilton
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell
"Why don’t you come dance?” With me goes unspoken, and George is eyeing him with a familiar look, like he’s sure Lewis will brush him off again, but he still wants to try.
Maybe it’s the buzz of alcohol. Maybe it’s the shiny skin of a tanned collarbone showing through George’s three open shirt buttons. Maybe it’s just the adrenaline of the whole day in general, but for once, Lewis thinks that sounds like a pretty good idea.
Stop overthinking, just go with it.
Bono’s words echo pointedly around his mind. Fuck it
ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by @prettydangrotten
Pairing: Alex Albon/George Russell
They’d agreed on friends when Alex had come to collect the last of his things from George’s flat. George had been adamant about it, all uncomplicated smiles, like they hadn’t just spent six months living in each other’s pockets and having some of the most bizarrely intimate sex of Alex’s life.
And friends is a noble intention, but. Alex still only has one friend who’s sucked him off in their driver’s room.
Allow yourself this happiness by Sonnenscheintraum
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell
i can barely breathe (when you're here loving me)
When Lewis wakes up he knows he's going into rut. He will be able to get through the rainy and cold race in Spa if he takes enough suppressants.
But what if George by his side is actually making it worse for him to keep the rut in check?
How is he supposed to keep himself under control when George looks and smells like the most delicious way and makes him want to claim him?
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell
Lewis Hamilton may be the sweetest person who ever stepped on earth and choose not to see the truth, but he deserves so much more than a broken, thirteen years younger college student.
So George does what is best for him.
See my Vision (tell ‘em) by @russilton
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell
“Feeling a little desperate, sweetheart?” It’s clearly rhetorical, but George nods anyway, and bites his lip at the conflicted emotions he sees cross Lewis’ face.
He knows it’s late, closer to Monday morning than Sunday night, but it’s been so long since they’ve had freedom to do whatever they want. He loves racing with his entirety, he even loves the intensive training and strict schedules, but he doesn’t love how the need to keep his body in perfect function for a race keeps him from Lewis.
George and Lewis have three weeks break between Monza and Singapore, and they just can’t wait anymore.
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Race Against the Sunset
cw/tw: Duke Fraldarius Felix x Princess reader, Azure Gleam route spoilers, no use of yn, childhood friends to lovers, family drama and trauma, long flashback, swordsmanship references, mentions of the deaths of loved ones, marriage of convenience turned loving marriage. wc: 16k (I am going to cry again) ୨୧ This fic will not use 'yn' and instead follow my usual naming convention. Please kindly see yourself out if you're uncomfortable with fics using placeholder names for the reader. I do not use 'yn' in any of my fics. I still use 'you'/second person pronouns and write with a generic (f) reader in mind. The name isn't mentioned often and is just for my preferences since I find it jarring to write 'yn' frequently. Thank you for understanding!
For a moment, he remembered that week you spent in their estate at Fraldarius territory many years ago. He recalled the singing of the young women employed in their estate's kitchen and how you sang along as you helped in meal preparation, even though you weren't supposed to be there because you were a guest. Those were hymns to the Goddess even he was unfamiliar with.
"Blessed are they who bask in the splendour of Gloriana's unreachable, empyrean domain!"
Felix had never been a pious child even from the beginning, even though the Kingdom of Faerghus' roots were so deeply intertwined with that of the Church of Seiros. Yet here was a girl who made him worship the very ground she walked on.
The succession crisis between the two princes of House Blaiddyd was played out like a melodrama. Birth order meant little in the Kingdom, where a singular truth prevailed time and again: those born with Crests were destined for greatness, and the Crestless would have to settle for what would be handed to them.
You were born to your parents on the fifth day of the Harpstring Moon in Imperial Year 1163, four months after the birth of your cousin, who would become the Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Dimitri's birth overshadowed yours, a fate your father believed you shared, given his position as a king who never became.
Much to everyone's amazement, Prince Rufus doted on you immensely, so much that he seemed more human than the decrepit stand-in many thought him to be. Your father loved you dearly. How could he not? When you were born with the very thing he lacked, the blessed blood that made him so different from his younger brother, the sole reason he fell so short of becoming the king himself. Rufus cared not that you were born from a mistress mother. You were his blood— and his salvation.
…But mistress was hardly the correct term to refer to your mother. She hailed from a cadet branch of House Charon and was a distant relative of the current head of the ancient house. That must explain the auspicious mixing of blood between the descendants of Blaiddyd and Charon, which resulted in you being born with a Minor Crest of Blaiddyd— the very same one your cousin possessed.
When the plague swept through Faerghus, not only did it claim the life of the Kingdom's beloved Queen Consort, but your mother's as well, leaving your father and Grand Duchy household to care for you as you grew older. Rufus had no time to mourn his muse, and it was only after an exchange of condolences between the brothers that the king caught wind of the one thing that kept his older brother sane.
King Lambert was only made aware of his niece's existence when she turned five years old, a time in which he also searched for appropriate companions for the crown prince. On your fifth birthday, your uncle sent you many an exquisite gift from the capital— a lovely dress the colour of Blaiddyd azure, a tailored coat made of the finest winter fox pelts, a box of delectable sweets from the city's best pastry shop, an ornamental dagger with a mindfully crafted leather hilt— a kind that fit your little hands perfectly— and a letter of invitation to Fhirdiad. While it was addressed to you, it was clear from the tone that it was meant to be read by your father, who only looked at the gifts in disdain.
Rufus knew the truth behind the gifts and what you symbolised to the nobles of the Kingdom, especially those in the capital. Your existence was a threat to the current state of things and perhaps this invitation was Lambert's way of ascertaining his brother's allegiance to the Crown.
Yet he could not deny the truth of the matter, too. You were part of the Royal Family as much as he was… And the fact that your governess suggested a higher form of education for you only compounded his thoughts.
"Papa, look! It's so beautiful!"
Lifting his tired blue eyes from the letter sent by his younger brother, a smile lit his dire face when he saw you don the pristine white coat and twirl around at his feet, your sweet laughter of delight ringing in his ears.
The coat was of exquisite quality, its paleness further highlighting the features you inherited from your mother��� and it pulled at your father's heart so. Many thought him incapable of loving anyone other than himself, but it was clear from the way he tenderly spun you around as you danced that he cherished you.
"And how beautiful you are, my little star."
And there was no way that he would let you out of his sight, not even at the king's command.
"The Grand Duke of Itha, Prince Rufus Thierry Blaiddyd, and his daughter, Princess Imogene Aislinn Blaiddyd."
In Imperial Year 1168, Rufus was astounded by the fanfare and celebration that marked his daughter's first visit to the Kingdom capital, and among those who received you at the castle town were the king himself and the crown prince. He had his watchful eye on you as you gracefully curtsied in obeisance to your uncle the king and your cousin the crown prince. The look on Lambert's face softened as he bent down on his knee to receive your little gloved hand in his. "The honour is all ours, my little niece. I know you must be rather tired from your travels, but Dimitri insists on introducing you to his friends…"
"Oh! You're wearing the coat I chose for you! I'm so happy you like it!" Dimitri remarked with a smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes. His face was framed with the same golden hair as your father. "Did you… like our gifts for you?"
"Yes, I did! Even the little cakes were so delicious!" You beamed at the boy dressed in the same Blaiddyd azure as you were, happily recalling the afternoon you shared the said sweets with your father and your governess. The castle at Itha Plains had been your home all your short life, with your father, your governess, and the household staff the only people you've known so far…
"Come with me. I would like to introduce you to my friends," the boy said with an outstretched hand. You hesitated and turned to your father, who only gave you a short yet apprehensive nod of assent.
"Very well, Your Highness. I—" You stated as you placed your gloved hand in his open palm, and he grasped you with a tremor that called your attention to his face once more.
"You need not call me that, mine cousin. You and I are family. We are cousins— and you are the only one I have in the world."
Your astonished eyes met his wide blue ones, the weight of his statement still settling in your mind. Dimitri was your cousin, bound by the shared blood of your fathers, and just as he was the crown prince, you were a princess of this country, too. "Very well, Dimitri. I would very much like to meet these friends of yours."
"Such a pretty girl can only take after her mother. Caitlin must be pleased," Lambert remarked as he eyed the children's retreating figures. While you had a semblance of your father, it was your mother's soft features that stood out more when you first came face to face with your uncle. "It does my heart good to see you well, brother."
Rufus was quiet in his place as he eyed the city alight with merriment. The plague that ravaged the country struck Fhirdiad at its heart, but here it was, beating once more, the castle town so full of life that you'd mistake it for another place or another time.
"The change is marvellous, wouldn't you agree? All of this was possible with the help of the talented Court Mage…"
He wondered how Lambert's grief did not blind him to the fact that so much had to be done in Fhirdiad if he wished for it to be a dignified place worthy of its glory as the capital of the Kingdom. He had to admit that this was a feat he could not have achieved without losing his mind in the process.
Rufus nodded at his younger brother, the two of them in their similar signature Blaiddyd azure regalia, yet still different sides of the same shining coin. "It is good to see you, brother."
There was a warmth in the king's face that unsettled his older brother, but it might have been the fact that Lambert was truly happy to host his niece and Rufus in Fhirdiad after many years. "You must tell me all about her. I doubt I'll have the time to speak with my niece myself now that she's with Dimitri. He was most excited to meet her…"
Dimitri's excitement was indeed obvious by the way he led you to his friends, most of whose names and stations you couldn't remember yet, but it was clear from the delighted looks on their faces that they were pleased to have finally met you, the Princess of Itha, and the crown prince's only known living cousin.
But you heard the whispers as well— men who called you a "usurper"— and only understood the meaning of it all when you were reunited with your father later that day. Rufus did well to politely decline Lambert's later invitation to remain at the capital for the remainder of the week, citing your "homesickness" as the reason for your departure to Itha.
He couldn't have you hearing those things. You were innocent… until he said otherwise.
On the carriage ride back to your home, your father held your hand in his. "Did you enjoy your time at the capital, my little star?"
You happily nodded your assent to his query. "Yes, papa! I had such a fun time with Dimitri and his friends! They were all so nice to me!"
A dark-haired boy was particularly awestruck by your presence, evidently surprised to see the resemblance between you and your cousin firsthand. The nameless boy shyly yet quickly stuffed his present into your small hands, and you held onto it for the rest of the day, the pretty wrapping paper crinkling in your grip. You were only able to ascertain what it was when the ribbons eventually came undone— a little decorative dagger with a blunt blade made of Mythril, the hilt delicately crafted with precious aquamarine stones.
"Will we come back again? To Fhirdiad? Dimitri said that I would always be welcome there… That we would always be welcome there. Because we are a family," you wondered aloud, the ornate dagger still in your hands. "I know that some of the people there hate me… but I would never take what isn't mine, papa. Madam Liadan told me that I shouldn't do it because it's bad… and the Goddess would punish me…"
Rufus was evidently surprised by your statement, which was far too forward for your age. He lamented the fact that he wasn't able to shield your ears from the mindless prattle of the Kingdom nobles under Lambert's file.
Had he been the one… you would be his heir. The crown princess. He offered you no more words, but simply hoisted you on his lap and held you in his arms until you fell asleep, the exhaustion and excitement of the day finally settling in your little bones. You clung onto the gifted dagger until you arrived back at Itha, refusing to part ways with it even as your father tucked you into bed.
That night, you dreamed of a dark-haired boy in aquamarine, his hazel eyes disappearing into his smile as he held out a gloved hand to you.
Following your first meeting, Dimitri often requested your presence at the capital. The boy only spent a day with you but already considered you one of the most important people in his life. Rufus received countless letters of inquiry and invitation and eventually relented— allowing you to visit every once in a while, especially since it was at the crown prince's behest.
Your visits to Fhirdiad were often short but memorable. While you spoke of the trivialities of your life in Itha, Dimitri often talked about how wonderful it would be to have your constant support and presence with him at the capital. It almost sounded like he was asking you to move there.
"It's nice to visit every once in a while… But papa has stressed the importance of my presence at home. As your future Grand Duke of Itha, I still have much to learn, and as do you, as our future King," you told him from across your table, laden with a spread of sweet tea and pastries for your tea party for two that afternoon. "Speaking of which, where is Uncle Lambert? I have not seen him since this morning."
"Father is on a campaign further north," the young prince replied to your query. "In Sreng."
"I pray to the Goddess for his safety…" You said rather quietly. "Surely they did not send him there unprepared…"
"You need not worry. Father has the finest men in the Kingdom riding by his side," Dimitri smiled at you. "Even I am not troubled in the least bit. Those men are his closest friends."
Friends. Your memory was jogged.
"That reminds me… When I first visited Fhirdiad, one of your friends presented me with this lovely dagger," you started, carefully pulling out the tiny ornamental blade from your floral embroidered satchel. "I never got around to asking his name. Your friend with the pretty black hair, I mean."
Dimitri inspected the dagger and easily recognised who it was from by the colour of the gemstones that dotted the hilt. "You must be talking about Felix. He is the second son of Rodrigue, who serves as my father's right hand at present."
"Felix…"
"If you'd like, mine cousin, I can ask Felix to come here as well on your next visit," Dimitri stated as he returned the dagger to you. "That way, you can thank him for his present."
"I would like that!"
"Your Highness," one of the house's older female servants arrived at the garden where your tea party was being held and gave a quick bow to your cousin. "Your weapons instructor is here. It is time for your lessons."
"Is that so?" Said the boy with a frown. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut our tea time short…"
"Weapons instructor? You mean you study how to use weapons?" You asked rather curiously.
"Yes. I will have to learn how to properly wield Areadbhar, the Hero's Relic entrusted to our family, though I am still not allowed to hold it, of course…" he replied, catching the curious yet crestfallen expression on your face. "You are to be the Grand Duke of Itha in the future. I believe you should at least know the basics of wielding a weapon. Would you… like to come with me, mine cousin?"
Dimitri saw the shine of wonder that lit your eyes this time, your excitement clearly uncontainable as you leaped off your chair. "Oh, can I really?!"
"Of course you can. I will have someone prepare a change of clothes for you," he said with the same warm smile as he beckoned the elderly servant to do as he had told. "But I must warn you. Gustave is a strict teacher. Just as he does not take it easy on me, he will not take it easy on you, too."
And not only was he strict, but an incredibly effective teacher. Despite his apprehension, Gustave was able to drill down the first principles of swordsmanship into you, even as you struggled in the lengthy trousers lent to you by your cousin. He sensed the same potent strength within you so akin to the king— and the crown prince… the blessedness of your blood.
The power of a Crest.
The feel of a sword was so different from holding but a mere dagger. You felt its weight in its entirety, dragging your shoulders down unless you put your back into lifting it. As you practised your swings with a blunted iron sword, Dimitri held an iron lance in his slightly larger hands, watching you sweat at your diligent efforts.
"Why did you teach her the sword, Gustave? Aren't axes and lances your specialty?"
"The sword is easy to teach to a beginner, Your Highness. It seems she has taken a shine to it, too," the older man stated, his tired blue eyes drawn to the corner where you stood, cutting through the air with the dull weapon he chose for you. "I do not want to cause any trouble by teaching her the lance. The princess, she… She must not get the idea that she, too, can wield your family's Hero's Relic. Not only is it a weapon of old, it is a symbol of your sovereignty. She must never aspire to even just hold it in her hands."
As your visits to the capital grew more frequent, the time you spent with your father grew less. Rufus always made time for you whenever you asked, but it was clear that he was busy with the affairs of Itha and many other discussions that required his attention more and more. Contrary to your initial thought that he would get angry at the swordsmanship lessons you had with Gustave at Fhirdiad, your father was amazed at your skill and the progress you have made so far.
In fact, Rufus was so pleased with your efforts that he purchased a rapier of excellent quality for you. You and Dimitri only admired it from inside its sheath and leather case as you continued your lessons with the red-haired knight, who marvelled at your shared strength and skill, which was clearly a family trait.
Gustave no longer looked at you with unease and trepidation whenever he instructed you but with a newfound admiration, especially on the rare occasions when he permitted you and the prince to spar against each other. You declared outright, after all, that you wielded your blade in the service of your king and your crown prince.
The skirmish between the two young royals would often draw the attention of many knights and squires in the training grounds, who watched in awe at the sight of your shared exerted effort. Many have learned to watch out for stray sparks and splinters whenever your weapons broke apart from yours and the crown prince's sheer strength.
Dimitri was a fierce opponent even at your young age. He never went easy on you but did his best to match your ferocity. You possessed similar Crests which meant you stood on equal ground, even though you were a girl. You didn't see any shame in losing to each other, either, but often considered each loss a learning curve. Your hands— now callused after how many moons of arduous training with the blade— no longer shook as your training sword clashed against your cousin's training lance.
It was during that sparring match that you encountered the boy who gifted you the aquamarine dagger once more, his present now one of your most prized possessions.
"So the rumours were true. You have been training the Princess of Itha as well, Sir Gustave. I can only imagine the number of weapons they've already broken," said an older boy with the same long and dark hair as Felix. He eyed the bout between the royal cousins and was both amazed and troubled at how well you could hold yourself against the prince. "It seems His Highness has found himself a stimulating training partner. That saves me some of the exhaustion, at least."
"Well met, Glenn. The princess has proven to be a keen student herself," the older knight stated as he acknowledged the presence of the two brothers. "She will be an asset to the Kingdom in time of need."
An asset is what many wished you'd be, but there was no denying the disquieting possibility that you may be used against the Royal Family— even though you were part of it, too.
"Well, here she is, Felix. A far cry from when you last saw her, huh?" The older boy, Glenn, chuckled as he placed a hand on his younger brother's head of dark hair. "You should join them. I'm sure Sir Gustave wouldn't mind another head to look after."
"You're free to join them, Felix. I know you've sparred with His Highness before, but I must warn you that the princess is not someone to be underestimated," Gustave said as he walked over to the centre of the castle training ground to call for a truce between the sparring cousins.
Felix stood there, his warm hazel eyes following the length of the prince's spear as its blunt pointed end met with the dull edge of your training blade. Dimitri lowered his weapon as his blue eyes fell to your face, a look of concern washing over him when he saw a small scratch on your cheek. He quickly reached out to cup your grazed cheek, but you only laughed as you gently swatted his hand away.
"Are you hurt anywhere else? I must have not noticed…"
"I'm fine, Dimitri! I swear!"
It was only when Gustave gestured towards the direction of the spectating young noble that you noticed him, another smile lighting up your face as you and your cousin made your approach.
"Felix! It's good to see you!" Said Dimitri as he held you by your hand. "My cousin had been looking forward to seeing you again."
"Your Highness," came Felix's rather distant and embarrassed greeting to his friend. He echoed the same sentiment as he finally came face to face with you this time. "Your Highness."
"H-Hello," came your nervous salutation. "I-I wanted to say thank you f-for your present when we first met."
"You're welcome, Your Hig—"
"You can call me by my name," you stated a bit more confidently this time. "A-Are you here because Dimitri said I wanted to see you again?"
"I— I am, my lady," the dark-haired boy sputtered as he shifted his gaze from you to the prince, who had a pleased smile on his face that slowly shifted into a chuckle.
"She said she did not need such formality, Felix. Just as you and I are friends, so are the two of you now," said Dimitri as he reached for his friend's gloved hand. He then brought your hand forward and engaged in a three-way handshake. "Now then, shall we call it a day? I believe you and Felix have a lot of catching up to do."
"W-We do?" Came your sheepish query. A soft laugh left your lips as you placed a warm hand on the back of your neck. "Well, if… If Felix i—"
"A-Actually, I would like to c…" Felix stepped up with a more determined expression on his face. "I would like to challenge you to a sparring match, Princess."
"I—"
"I-If you're amenable to that, of course!"
"I'd like that very much! I'm sure Dimitri is bored stiff having to spar with me all the time."
"I'm pretty sure you're talking about yourself," the young prince said with a smile and a small sigh of defeat. "Well then, carry on, my dear cousin. If Felix is here, then I'm certain Glenn is as well. He shall be my training partner."
Dimitri approached Gustave and gestured in your direction, clearly advising the older knight of your intention to spar with the second son of House Fraldarius. You adjusted your training clothes and trousers, picked up your sword once more and took a deep breath.
From your lessons with your governess, you knew that House Fraldarius is a family of warriors. Rodrigue earned his title as the Shield of Faerghus for defending the king in their last military excursion to Sreng. His eldest son, Glenn, was a knight in the making and Dimitri's preferred training partner, seeing as the older boy could keep up with the prince's stamina.
It was clear from his movements that Felix had the build and stride of a child at ease in battle. Such was their family's claim to success, apart from the fact that they, too, were the progeny of one of the Ten Elites. Your opponent shed his winter coat, a striking aquamarine blue with a collar made of the same fine winter fox pelts his family could afford. In his hands was a similar training sword, and in his eyes was a spark— an obvious exhilaration at having to do battle with an unfamiliar adversary.
"I won't go easy on you just because you're a princess," he said as he raised his blade and assumed his battle stance. "Just because you're my friend."
His statement was bold yet bright, compelling you to step up to the occasion with the same excitement filling your chest up to your throat. You steadied your feet and raised your blade in response to his declaration. "I welcome the challenge! Come at me, then!"
In Imperial Year 1171, the Saintess, Cornelia, welcomed an Imperial lady to her home, and the King was so besotted by her that he married her in the shadows. Lady Patricia was a kind woman who raised the prince as her own, and yet… There was a certain sadness to her that you couldn't quite put a finger on. It was during one of your visits to Fhirdiad that you were introduced to each other, and the older woman warmed to the idea of having you around as her company.
That same year, a girl from the Empire arrived in Fhirdiad, too— and there were whispers about her being a princess, too. You saw the delight that lit your cousin's face whenever he spent time with her, a girl whose air of precocious maturity matched the rumoured title she held. The girl, who simply introduced herself as El, taught you and Dimitri how to dance, and took pleasure in gently commanding your movements.
"You need to learn how to dance, too, Immie. You're a princess, after all!"
The young prince could only laugh and smile to himself whenever you blundered a step as El's partner. He cherished this memory— of you and him dancing with the girl who wore Adrestian crimson amid the pale blue cold of Faerghus.
There was a sadness in her you couldn't quite comprehend as well, so akin and similar to that of your new aunt. You tried your best to make them feel welcome in the capital, Dimitri even more so, but you both lamented being unable to do anything to ease the burden of their loneliness.
You could relate to them in a way, especially since you've been seeing your father less and less. The day you last saw him was on the annual New Year's hunt at the Itha Plains, which did not go as planned since Rufus was inebriated from the festivities the previous night. He, along with his counsel and companions, most of whom were family members of the Kingdom's western lords, rode deep into the thicket in the heart of the plains, closely followed by you and your attendants on horseback.
While it didn't please you to see your father drunk beyond his wits, the very thing you couldn't stand back then was the sight of several noble-born women flocking around him. They lauded his missed strikes, the sound of their shrill voices nothing but grating to your ears. And it annoyed you even more that he relished the attention.
You took the minibow you were equipped with and released a single arrow that struck a startled forest fox, much to the surprise of your father and his counsel and companions.
"Th… The first ki—"
You did not even wait for the knight to finish his declaration and rode towards your father with an indignant expression before lowering your head in exaggerated, mock reverence.
"May you have a blessed and bountiful hunt, Grand Duke," you coldly stated before riding off to the castle, leaving him behind with the rest of his men. You made your way to Fhirdiad not long after, not a single response from your father even after you sent word that you arrived there safely.
Part of you wanted to return home to Itha to see him. To reconcile with him. But part of you also wanted him to suffer in silence.
Your seemingly short visits to the capital soon turned into moons. And before you knew it, you were celebrating your birthday with your cousin's family rather than returning home to Itha. Your uncle and aunt were happy to have you there with them, but Lambert understood that you longed for your father, too, though your pride wouldn't allow you to admit it.
The king presented you with many gifts from his side of the family, but there was one Dimitri did not recognise as theirs— another leather case that contained yet another sheathed blade. "This is from your father. I believe he also has a letter for you."
It was another exquisite sword for you, the Crest of Blaiddyd engraved onto its silver blade. Along with it came a thick fur scarf made of the striking scarlet pelt of forest foxes native to the Itha Plains. You tried to receive the presents without tearing up and only read your father's message in the silence and solitude of your bedchambers after all the festivities celebrated in your name.
"Happiest Birthday, my little star. May you use this blade to strike forth and cut a path to your destiny, which I am hard at work to see come to fruition. Papa misses you so."
The letter was brief and had little detail, but you could tell from the erratic handwriting that your father was grief-stricken in his attempt at reaching out to you.
He would have to wait a bit longer.
The following day was your birthday celebration with your friends, all of whom piled presents upon presents in your arms once more. Despite being Dimitri's friends originally, they welcomed you into the fold as part of their close-knit circle. Sylvain, the heir of House Gautier, gifted you with a classical board game you used to play with your father, while Ingrid, the daughter of Count Galatea, presented you with a pair of fine leather riding boots.
This year, Felix gifted you yet another dagger, but this time was different, for he had given you a functioning toothed knife rather than another ornamental trinket.
"The Itha Plains is one of the best hunting grounds in the Kingdom, and perhaps all of Fodlan. As its princess, you're bound to host hunts there sooner or later. I can only hope that this will serve you well," he stated, handing his present to you with a short bow. "Happy Birthday."
"Thank you, Felix. And to everyone, too, for all your lovely presents! While all of these are so precious to me, the mere fact that you're here to celebrate this day with me warms my heart," you beamed at your circle of friends as they sat across from you, your table in the castle garden filled with sweet and savoury snacks and flowering tea. "I'll be going home tomorrow. As always, I'll carry my time here in my heart… And I hope to be back soon. For now, I have to speak to my father."
"Ah, that reminds me. Felix mentioned earlier that he can accompany you on your way back to Itha before he heads back to Fraldarius," Dimitri stated as he lifted his head from his cup of tea. "Have you not told her yet, Felix?"
"How thoughtful of you, Felix. Though I must tell you now that I have no intention of riding by carriage," you replied to your cousin's statement with a smile before eventually turning towards the dark-haired boy. "I will go on horseback, giving me the perfect opportunity to break in these lovely boots Ingrid got for me."
"And that gives us the perfect opportunity to race, too, Princess," Felix said with a small snort of derision. "That is if you're not against getting those new boots dirty, of course."
"Wanna make a bet while we're at it, too?" You said with a laugh. "The loser will do whatever it is the winner wants."
"Deal."
Dimitri could only shake his head in defeat as he listened to your thoughtless wager. By nightfall, he came to visit your bedchambers one last time before you went your way home. He found you packing your belongings, among those the ornate aquamarine dagger Felix first gifted you years ago. It sat on your bedside table on a special wooden stand carved by one of Grand Duchy's household staff.
You placed the toothed dagger next to the jewelled one and smiled to yourself. "I have so many knives and swords."
"It is a thoughtful gift. I don't know if this has been taught to you, but we from the Kingdom consider such weapons as tools of destiny. I believe Felix wishes for you to cut open a path forward for yourself…"
For an object to hold such weight…
"And though it might be purely ornamental, its message doesn't really change," Dimitri stated as he sat down next to you on the edge of your bed. "You are the Princess of Itha, but if there is anything else you wish to be, you… You have only to tell me. So we can discuss it."
"Well, I…" You started, a sheepish grin now on your face. "It might sound like a girlish dream, a-and maybe it is to you, Dimitri, but I…"
You beckoned him to lean down so that you could whisper your tender dream in his ear. A gentle laugh left his lips as he nodded to himself. "I think we can do something about that."
"But I will continue doing my best… so that he'll like me for who I am."
"I'm pretty sure he already likes you as much, my dearest cousin."
By daybreak the following morning, a retinue from the Grand Duchy Army was prepared to receive you, and they were surprised to see that you'd already mounted your horse, opting away from the carriage they readied for you.
Riding beside you was the second son of House Fraldarius, his dark hair already tousled by the calm morning breeze. Several Fraldarius soldiers tasked with his protection shuffled into your retinue's line.
"We'll race when we catch sight of Itha Castle," you declared as you gave your steed a gentle kick, prompting it forward. "For now, we have all the time in the world to talk, Felix. Have you thought of a prize if you win?"
"I have," came the boy's silent but confident response.
"I suppose I should think of one now, then."
"We have all the time in the world," Felix echoed your sentiment with a small smile on his face. "Consider it carefully, Princess."
From a view of a map, the Itha Plains was but a stone's throw away from Fhirdiad, but travel to and from still took at least half a day. The boy riding next to you asked you questions about your early childhood— from before you knew him— and even went so far as to ask you about your intentions in the future.
"I know that many still think I am a usurper… And that no matter how much time I spend in the capital, they will still look at me like I would intentionally cause a succession crisis," you said with a defeated chuckle, but not before raising your eyes to meet his gaze, your vision unclouded and clear of any hint of deception. "I've said it before and I will say it again— I've no intention of taking what isn't mine. When the time comes and if the need ever arises, I will fight for the Kingdom as Dimitri's sword. I've no intention of being Queen."
"That's reassuring to hear."
"I'm glad to hear you think that, our future Duke Fraldarius."
By the time the afternoon sun had made its way up in the sky, you and Felix had already spoken about nearly everything you could— and you already spotted your castle's first turret from across the horizon.
"Race you," you declared to him, gathering your horse's reins before giving it a small yet impactful smack on its behind. Your steed picked up its pace as the path towards the castle slowly tapered upward. While you were sure you had a headstart, you caught a flash of aquamarine in the corner of your eye. Your horses were sprinting alongside each other at what seemed to be equal speeds, but you could only laugh out loud as Felix and his steed narrowly edged you out and arrived at the castle courtyard mere seconds before you could.
"Welcome home, Princess," the dark-haired boy stated with a small smirk on his fine face. "Expect to see me again soon."
"I eagerly await that day, Felix," you said with a smile and a nod. "Thank you for taking the time to accompany me back to Itha. Please take care on your way home."
"Dearest ■
How fare you, my dearest cousin? Last I heard from you, you arrived at Itha safe and sound. It does my heart well to know that you made it back home safely.
I only heard from Rodrigue the other day that you spent about a week in Fraldarius at Felix's request. I thought your loss would teach you not to make such ill-considered gambles in the future, but it seems you enjoyed your time there with Felix and his family… Are you perhaps grateful for that loss? It sounded like a win either way.
I am more surprised at how you and Felix managed to convince Uncle Rufus to permit you to go on that excursion. The old man watches over you like a hawk, as far as I know. Regardless, I hope you had fun.
El says she misses you. I do, too.
I hope to see you again soon. Please tell me all about your trip to Fraldarius. I am pleased to hear that you and Felix are getting along so well.
Sincerely yours,
Dee."
"Dearest Dee,
How fare you, my dearest cousin? I have been well and I hope you are, too. I apologise for my lack of communication with you lately… and for the lack of visits to Fhirdiad. Papa and I had a lot of catching up to do.
Let us just say we have reconciled and leave it at that. Papa apologised for his mindless actions the last we met and I apologised for my impetuousness.
Can I ask you how you felt when Uncle Lambert remarried? I am not too keen on the idea, but I suppose papa is still a man… I just wished he would choose his companions wisely.
And as you already know, I spent quite a vacation at the dukedom. It was not so much a vacation, really, but more of a training camp. From sun up to sun down, Felix and I have done nothing but spar, hunt, and maintain weapons. Lord Rodrigue almost sent me home when Felix made out with their family's Hero's Relic without permission. It's a terrifying thing, isn't it? A Hero's Relic. The shield almost seemed alive and breathing to me. I shudder at the thought of having to wield something so… grotesque. But you've been training for that your whole life.
I miss El terribly, too. And you, too, of course.
I'll tell you all about my trip to Fraldarius when I visit Fhirdiad again soon. For now, stay warm and stay safe.
Yours truly,
■"
In Imperial Year 1176, your uncle the king perished in the Tragedy of Duscur, along with many other knights and vassals of the Kingdom. Duke Fraldarius lost his son Glenn in the clash, too, and you couldn't shake the thought that something more nefarious occurred in what should have been a peaceful diplomatic mission.
And even as you pleaded in tears to be allowed to go to Fhirdiad to see your cousin, who had just lost his own father, Rufus did not permit you to go.
"The Grand Duke is right, Princess. There is no need for you to rush," the Saintess, Cornelia, whom your father had taken as one of his closest companions in more recent times, also dissuaded you from heading to the capital. She spoke of the right moment to make your appearance, which was strange since you wanted nothing but to be by Dimitri's side at that time.
…Something about your father's calmness about the catastrophe unnerved you. His reaction was almost inhuman, but you didn't want to give it too much thought. He could have been shocked, for all you knew…
By the time you were finally allowed to visit Fhirdiad, your father's regency had been finalised, and the nobles of the capital and the castle's household only seemed to look at you with even more contempt. You did not see much of your cousin even though you remained in there for his sake. The lords loyal to the late king evidently did not want you around the crown prince, either.
You were almost violently rebuffed that one time you tried to help Dimitri when he was having a panic attack. His unfamiliar guardian from a foreign land shoved you away and spoke to you in broken sentences— both in the language of Fodlan and Duscur. It was only when your cousin placed a reassuring hand on the imposing boy's shoulder and explained to him who you were that he was able to quiet down.
"She is my cousin, Dedue. The only one I have in the world."
Dimitri, who was the sole survivor of the tragedy, was inconsolable for the first few moons after the horrific incident, and even you could not pick up your sword to train without being reminded— without imagining the hellscape he endured and survived— and the eerie feeling that clawed at your chest when you recalled your father's unbothered expression when he received the news of his brother's death.
Whispers of your father's involvement in your uncle's death did not help your reputation in the capital, either, and the fact that Rufus did little to disengage himself from the rumours only compounded the frigid treatment you've been receiving from the nobles and the castle staff.
The only ally you ever had was gone, too, driven away by his shame. Everyone had the same response when you asked about Gustave's whereabouts— "He's gone."
At Felix's behest, you were present with House Fraldarius when they held a memorial for Glenn, a true knight of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, or so Rodrigue said… But not even your soothing touch could quell Felix's fist, his entire body seizing in a tempered rage he tried his best to contain. He was not the only one who lost a loved one, after all. And yet, he couldn't stomach how his father glazed over his eldest son's death. No words of embellishment will take away the fact that Glenn was killed horrifically in the Tragedy of Duscur. Felix would resent his father for that.
It was Rodrigue who implored you to return to Itha while Dimitri gathered his bearings. He knew of the grievous treatment you endured in the capital, even more so now that Rufus preoccupied himself with the Saintess's company more than anyone else's.
"His Highness will certainly ask for you once he has figured everything out, Princess. Return home for now. I'm certain you're tired of all the suspicion yourself."
And you did so, only because it was true that you could no longer abide by the royal household's disdain for you. You did not know that it would take Dimitri four years to reach out to you again, the boy you knew changed beyond recognition.
In Imperial Year 1178, Dimitri, the Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and Felix, a knight in the making and the Heir of House Fraldarius, were tasked with suppressing an insurrection in Western Faerghus. Many of the knights who accompanied them attested to seeing the prince roll over the rebels with maniacal bloodlust.
You were half-certain Felix might have developed the same grisly instinct, but you were relieved to find out that he was blatantly disgusted by the boar's unhinged behaviour. The incident prompted him to step away from his knightly vows, his sole intention now was to become a swordsman of unparalleled skill.
You spent the past few years handling the affairs of Itha as the acting Grand Duke. As the regent, Rufus spent his days holed up in Fhirdiad under the thrall of the Saintess, Cornelia. He did not bother to manage the Kingdom, let alone reach out to his only daughter.
…Though you knew for a fact that you may not be your father's only child now.
You received no word at all from Dimitri, either, and you could only assume that he was busy with his responsibilities and studies as the crown prince.
Or maybe he wanted nothing to do with you, either.
Still, you handled the affairs of your home with all the knowledge and grace you possessed thus far. You often received wise counsel from the Head of House Gaspard, Lord Lonato, who once served as your father's retainer in their youth.
"Since it is now the Horsebow Moon, I suppose we should open a portion of the hunting grounds to the public…" You stated as you browsed through the stack of documents piling up on the desk in your father's office, which you have used as your own these last few years. "Oh, and the merchants and craftsmen from the Leicester Alliance should be accompanied by members of the plains' official hunting guilds. Many are unfamiliar with just how dangerous the grounds can be…"
Your elderly governess, Madam Liadan, now stood as your sole attendant and counsel while you were acting in an official capacity as the Grand Duke of Itha. She took pride in your expertise and manner of leadership as you steered your hometown in a direction that would benefit its people.
"A word, Your Grace," came a knock outside the den. "Lord Felix of House Fraldarius has requested an audience with you."
"…Felix?"
True enough, your dearest childhood friend found his way to your home with only a handful of guards. His dark hair was grown out, now kept in a messy bun. His once warm hazel eyes stared down at you with a fierce coldness as he refused to dismount his horse, riding around you and your courtyard as you came face to face with him after how many years.
"Ride with me, Princess," he stated with a small scoff. "Or are you content playing house and assuming a title that isn't even yours yet?"
"I—"
"We don't have to race this time," he said. "Just talk."
"Call for a stableboy to fetch Aureolin for me," you motioned to one of the household staff present to receive the heir of House Fraldarius. "And have one of the servants fetch my sword, the one from my father. I'm certain the heir of House Fraldarius did not just come here for a horse ride. Or to just talk."
"We shall have an attendant f—" Madam Liadan stated, only for you to cut her off with a mere wave of your hand.
"There is no need for that, Madam Liadan," you said with a smile that did not reach your eyes. "Lord Felix is my friend. He and I have much to talk about, none of which is any of your business."
You heard a faint chuckle leave the said friend's lips as he steered his mount to the castle gates once more.
"Receive his good men instead, please. Give them food and drink and allow their horses to graze," you instructed the household staff as you saddled and mounted your steed, Aureolin. "Shall we be off then, Felix?"
Your ride was quiet but meaningful, and it allowed you to rest your mind from all the noise of having to manage your household and lands. Felix noticed the pleased yet pensive expression on your face as he steadied the pace of his horse to match yours. He only spoke once you were in the heart of the plains, far from your meddling governess and the prying eyes of your father's loyal people.
"Before everything else…"
"Did you think I'd shirk my training just because I've been busy with paperwork, Felix?" You said with a low laugh as you swiftly dismounted Aureolin and unsheathed your sword. "Come. It's been a while since I had a worthwhile sparring partner."
The sounds of the grass in the plains crunching under your boots and the steel of your swords clashing quickly dissipated in the air, the open field unable to contain even your heavy breathing and heaving as you steadily held against your opponent.
"Well, I'm glad all of that bureaucracy didn't dull your skill," Felix stated with a smirk and a small grunt as he parried your blow. Your bladework in your youth was wild and untamed, but your hands were more steady now, your strength measured and concentrated in a way that matched his own. "This cursed strength, though—!"
"You aren't so bad yourself," you said with a huff and a laugh. "Let's put our back into this, Felix!"
For a moment, he remembered that week you spent in their estate at Fraldarius territory many years ago. He recalled the singing of the young women employed in their estate's kitchen and how you sang along as you helped in meal preparation, even though you weren't supposed to be there because you were a guest. Those were hymns to the Goddess even he was unfamiliar with.
"Blessed are they who bask in the splendour of Gloriana's unreachable, empyrean domain!"
Felix had never been a pious child even from the beginning, even though the Kingdom of Faerghus' roots were so deeply intertwined with that of the Church of Seiros. Yet here was a girl who made him worship the very ground she walked on.
Here was his Gloriana, her sword arm unmatched and her skill unparalleled.
Not that he would ever admit it.
It was only after you both broke a sweat that you called in a draw. You sat next to each other on the grass, knees and elbows brushing as you each wiped your swords clean with your cloaks, like when you were children.
There was only the faint sound of a calm breeze and the gentle swaying of the grass and weeds as you worked up the blade of your sword. You ran your thumb over the engraving of the Crest of Blaiddyd before eventually asking, "How is Dimitri?"
"Here," Felix stated, further slicing through the silence that enveloped you. He pulled out a single sealed letter from the inner pocket of his cloak and handed it to you. "The boar… has been trying to reach you for the last four years. Did none of his letters ever reach you?"
Letters? From Dimitri?
You shook your head. "No. Not at all…"
He sighed. "Figures. He said he sent you countless letters, but I wouldn't be surprised if this was your father's doing."
"My father?"
"Are you so out of touch with reality that you're in denial about what's going on in the capital? The boar no longer has allies there," he scoffed at your ignorance. "I'm not going to sugarcoat things for you just because he's your father. He's doing a terrible job as the regent and if you're going to pretend to be blind to that fact, then you're just as terrible as he is."
"Felix… My father hasn't reached out to me ever since he assumed the regency of the Kingdom. Ever since Lord Rodrigue urged me to return to Itha four years ago. I wrote him letters but received nothing in return," you stated with furrowed brows after hearing everything for the first time. "And Lord Rodrigue told me that Dimitri would call for me once he's figured things out. The last I heard about him was after the Western Kingdom rebellion. You were there with him. He… must have figured things out by then, but…"
You pursed your lips as you held the unopened letter in your hands. "Part of me thought he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. Many of the nobles of the capital have made it clear that they hold nothing but disdain for me, after all."
"That's not true. The boar could never hate you."
"I feel so foolish," you said, swallowing a sob before it could escape your lips. "I should have stayed there with him."
Felix reached out and wiped away your tears with a callused finger. "No use crying over that now. And trust me— the boar— Dimitri doesn't hate you. He wouldn't have bothered with that letter if he did."
"Dearest ■
How fare you, my dearest cousin? It certainly has been a while. I can only assume that my previous letters never got to you. You would write to me as soon as you received one, after all. How can I be so sure? Because that is how we've always been. You are my only cousin in the world, the closest thing I have to a sister. You are a friend I know I can trust my life with, regardless of what other people think.
I've been hearing much about your good work at Itha. Many claim that your political acumen is just as good as your father's, but we can do more about that. I know things must have been terribly lonely for you, yet you handled everything with ease and grace.
I am writing to you once more to let you know that I intend to enroll in the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach next year. Many of our old friends, including Felix, will be attending as well, and nothing would give me greater joy than being reunited with you— and seeing you amongst the rest of the members of the Blue Lions House.
Believe it or not, Uncle Rufus and I have spoken about your enrollment, too. He did not say much about it but only agreed, which was all the more surprising given that he hasn't spoken to you much these past few years. I would know since he kept no one else close to him but the Saintess.
I hope you are taking care of yourself and I truly hope to see you again soon. And maybe we can discuss some of the things that happened back then.
Sincerely yours,
Dee.
PS: Let us celebrate all the birthdays we missed out on because we were apart."
In Imperial Year 1180, you joined the Officers Academy at the same time as all of the other noble children of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, forming the Blue Lions House under Dimitri's leadership. It was there you were reunited with your cousin and childhood friends and heard the truth about his way of life these last four years— and why his letters never reached you.
You didn't want to believe it at first, but every detail made sense. The Tragedy of Duscur, the death of your uncle, the Western Kingdom uprising, and Dimitri's solitary confinement in his own home… Everything pointed to your father and his obsession with possessing the throne that was never meant for him.
"I'm sorry, Dimitri… All the signs were there in front of me, but I never… I never…" You said, your voice cracking as you sat across your cousin, the tea and sweets no longer appetising and inviting after everything you heard from him. And Dedue, who wanted nothing more but to trust you after everything your father has done. He did not believe in blaming children for their father's mistakes, but you had a mountain of doubt to climb and overcome if he and the rest of the house were to trust you completely.
"It is not you who has to apologise," Dedue stated. "His Highness said before that he trusted you with his life. If you are still that person, then you must prove it with your actions."
"I don't care if it's not my fault, either," you sobbed into your hands this time. "I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for what he's done, I swear…"
It was only after you calmed down and had your tea that Felix approached you, a dour expression on his face as he spoke directly to you, ignoring your companions. "Are you finally done with your whining? Spar with me, Princess."
"Spare me, Felix. I'm too spent to even think about picking up my sword. The monastery is huge and the academic year has just started. I'm sure there are many skilled people just as eager to test their mettle against an unknown quantity…" You replied with a hand on your temple.
"I'll only be warming up with you," the dark-haired young man said with a scoff and a shrug. "You're right, after all. There won't be a lack of people to spar with here."
"Did you just call me a warm-up session, Felix?" You quirked an eyebrow at him. "You know what? I'll have at you. I'm angry and need a way to blow off some steam, anyway."
"Are you calling me a cooldown session, Princess?" He snorted. "On second thought, it's good that you're angry. That means you won't hold back."
While the peaceful school days gave you a sense of normalcy, those days did not last as long as everyone initially thought. Your latest mission saw the rescue of Baron Ochs's missing daughter Monica, who was found by your new mercenary friend in the bandits' hideout. Her reappearance opened a can of worms that needed to be cleaned out. Following the disappearance of the librarian Tomas, trouble and turmoil brewed in all three cornerstones of Fodlan simultaneously, like a masked puppeteer masterfully pulling strings— and everyone else along with it.
And unsettling as it was, the Blue Lions could only press forward into the truth you long sought, about who was truly running the show in Fhirdiad.
But your enrollment was swiftly withdrawn following the dangerous revelation about the truth of the identity of the librarian Tomas. And though you protested, everything fell on your father's deaf ears.
"He is right to be concerned about you, mine cousin," Dimitri told you as you shared a meal during what was supposed to be your last day of schooling. "And it would be wise not to anger him. That way, you can still convince him to return when the issue has died out."
"But I don't want to go home," you said with a little grumble, absentmindedly poking your food with your fork. "Not after we've only reunited…"
"Scared of missing out on all the fun?" Felix sneered at you, to which you responded by stabbing the remaining teppanyaki in his place and scarfing it down whole. "Wh—! Hey!"
You reluctantly parted ways with Dimitri and Felix and the rest of the Blue Lions House by order of the regent, your father. Ahead of your trek back home to Itha, you made a quick and unexpected detour to the Kingdom to see how he had been doing.
"Welcome home, Your Highness!"
You were welcomed by new Royal staff, all of whom took orders from the regent. Among those who received you at the castle town was a lord you were unfamiliar with by name, but you remembered him as one of your father's companions from the New Year's hunt.
"Have you been well, Your Highness? Allow me to take you to His Grace."
"Oh, thank you, uh…"
"Viscount Kleiman at your service, Princess," the older man gave you a quick bow. "You would do well to remember my name and my face, especially in this coming era."
This coming era?
You tried not to pay too much mind to the viscount's words and simply focused on who you came there for. "Has my father been well?"
"Perhaps you should see for yourself, Your Highness. I'm certain your presence will lift his spirits."
A strange chill danced up your spine as you were led to the former king's bedchambers, where Rufus paced and lounged these past few days.
"Papa?" You called out to him as the aged wooden doors harshly creaked open, as though they hadn't been for quite some time.
"Is that you, my little star?"
Your father looked worn out, and it was evident from the rubbish that littered the room that he accepted no other company apart from the Saintess, Cornelia, who closely stood next to him.
"Have you been well, papa? Oh, it's been so long…" You said, your voice cracking from both the joy and despair you felt as you stepped into your father's space. He was crowned with an unfamiliar circlet of precious blue steel, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look even more ragged and unhewn. He could only grasp your wrists in place as you lifted your hands to hold his face, your thumbs tenderly running over his cold cheeks.
"His Highness h—" Cornelia started, only for you to shoot her a look that could have killed if only possible.
"With all due respect, Saintess. I wasn't talking to you."
"How lovely you've grown, my little star," Rufus managed a small smile. It was his turn to gently hold your face in his freezing hands, which you tried not to notice. "Fret not. We won't be apart for long. You'll return to me once everything has been settled."
"What do you mean, papa? What will you do? What's going to happen?"
He did not answer your questions but only pressed a soft yet cold kiss on your forehead, the kind you were so used to receiving when you were a child.
When it was just you and him.
"Return to Itha, my little star. Stay there until I send for you," he stated as he turned away from you. "Go."
"But papa—!" You tried to reach for him, only to be rebuffed by the Saintess in crimson, barring you from approaching your father once more.
"His Highness needs his rest, sweet princess. But worry not. It won't be too long until you remain here for good. This is your home, after all."
"The Itha Plains is our home, Saintess. You would do well to remember that."
"The Grand Duke has fought tooth and nail for his house's future. Your future, if we are being more specific, Princess."
The same eerie chill swept up your spine once more as you locked stares with the green-eyed mage. Still, you showed no hint of trepidation as you approached her. "I did not wish for him to fight for me. I wish for nothing but to spend time with my father, not the regent. And once Dimitri is crowned king, he and I will return to our home."
Cornelia smiled at you, her eyes void of emotion but her voice was still saccharine and sultry. It was no wonder your father was so enthralled by her. "Of course, Princess. Believe what you will."
The days blurred altogether as you resumed your management of Itha. You expected your father to send for you sometime soon, but what broke your routine was a lone Kingdom soldier allied with the Crown Prince, riding past your castle security with haste.
"I have an urgent message for Her Highness, the Princess of Itha! His Highness and his counsel have sent for you!"
"What's going on? What happened?" You asked as you rushed past your household staff, not a care in the world with how undone you looked.
"It's the regent, Your Highness! The Grand Duke seized complete control of the capital and declared war on House Fraldarius! He is calling for the annihilation of Lord Rodrigue and his family! He claims they are controlling His Highness!"
No.
You felt your blood run cold at the revelation that was sent to you. All the signs yet again point to your father— and his fanatical, maniacal obsession with the throne. With killing Dimitri.
"This conflict will only end with one of them dead," you said, your lip quivering in terror at the thought. "I… I will ride to Fhirdiad!"
"You will not, Your Grace! His Majesty will send for you once he has put the usurper to rout!" Madam Liadan declared as she barred your way to the stables. "Such is the price of peace—"
"There is no peace and there will be no peace even with one of them dead!" You shouted, swallowing the lump in your throat as you flung her out of your way. "Get out of my way, Madam Liadan. I will plead for my father's life if I have to."
"Y-You forget yourself, Princess! Everything he's done, he did for you! You would disrespect him by begging for his life— for leniency?! From a usurper?!"
You once dreamed of officially inheriting the Itha Plains from your father. You dreamed of him accepting your choice of a husband. You dreamed of him as a grandfather, carrying your children— dark-haired, with eyes as warm as hazel and sunrise— and you dreamed of caring for him in his old age. You dreamed of a long life for him, far from all the melodrama he was initially born into… and a gentle death befitting the gentle father that he was to you.
But no matter how good of a father he was to you, the weight of his sins to his family and the Kingdom hung heavy and low in the scale. He would pay the ultimate price for it.
In your shock upon your arrival to Fhirdiad, in the aftermath of the succession crisis and Dimitri's resolution, you fell to your knees in tears of agony, crying and cursing yourself for arriving far too late— for never being enough for him to disregard the indignities of his youth.
"Hey!—"
The last thing you saw before blacking out entirely was Felix hurriedly reaching out to you.
Finally, you dreamed of your father holding you in his arms as you made your way back to Itha following your very first visit to the capital, blissfully joyful and unaware of all that has yet to transpire.
In the days that followed in the aftermath of the succession crisis, it was revealed that the Houses Elidure, Mateus, Kleiman, Rowe, Duval, and many other minor western lords played a part in the assassination of the late king. Dimitri's counsel worked swiftly to ensure your father's part in the ploy was also unveiled and made known to everyone in the Kingdom. You accepted that as the truth now.
Your interrogation was conducted by Margrave Gautier, who accepted your statement as fact. Even if you had known anything, you would have related it to your cousin as soon as you could.
"The Princess of Itha has made it clear that she had no involvement in the matter and knew nothing about the coup," the older man related to the young king and the rest of his counsel.
It made sense that you knew nothing of your father's scheme, for your role would come to pass in the future. For the pieces of his plan to fall into place seamlessly, you had to be blameless and unblemished. He kept you as far away as he could so he could present you as his faultless heir. Rufus would deal with the fallout in the years that followed.
But your father was dead, and you were nothing else but a misplaced pawn.
"I know," Dimitri stated. "How is she?"
"The princess is of sound mind if that is what you wish to know, Your Highness. I believe she is waiting for a chance to speak to you if you will permit it."
You remained confined under guard in your childhood bedchambers in the capital. This place was once filled with happy, joyful memories of your youth, but now it served as your prison cell.
More of your father's misdeeds came to light when you last spoke to the Margrave, and though he does not blame you, he also made it clear that your presence would mean contention for Dimitri. For once, you found yourself cursing the very blood that flowed through your veins. You cursed the Crest you were born with that made your father aspire for things beyond his grasp.
The indignities of your cousin's youth had yet to be repaid, and you swore to him that you would do so in kind for as long as he wished.
When Dimitri finally came to see you, you could only grasp his hands, unable to look him in the eye. "You've known where my heart and my loyalties lie ever since we were children, mine cousin. I swear to the Goddess. To our dead fathers… I no longer care what you wish to do with me, but believe me when I say not even once did I aspire to be Queen."
"I've known from the very beginning," he stated as he held your hands and quelled their shaking. "I believe in you. And I cannot cast you aside, even if you wish. You are the only family I have left… And I do not want for us to become like our fathers…"
"We will never be like them," you strongly declared through your tears. "Never."
Dimitri and his counsel worked tirelessly to restore order to the capital before eventually extending their reach to the rest of the Kingdom. You assisted with implementing many of the reforms after being proven innocent of the regent's attempts at usurping the throne.
You were used to the mistrust of the people, so much that you wished your cousin would delegate you tasks that required others to watch you carefully— just so you could prove that you meant him no harm. That your heart was nothing like your father's.
Your fate, as the elephant in the room, was the topic of discussion in one of their recent councils, where they burned their candles at both ends to come to a resolution. While some of them voted to banish you from the Kingdom, others argued your possible usefulness to the king's cause, including Felix, who attested to your skill with the sword, which you previously pledged to Dimitri's service, whenever he asked for it.
As it stood, you remained a political prisoner granted remarkable leeway— so much so that you were still permitted to eat, train, and spend time with the prince and your friends, much like when you were children.
"The matter with the princess is rather complicated. We simply cannot allow her to walk away from all of this," Margrave Gautier stated. "We cannot allow her to return to Itha, either, lest she be taken away by the remaining forces of the western lords—"
"—and be used as a symbol. A weapon against His Majesty," Rodrigue remarked.
"You're right. But she is no political prisoner. She is my family," Dimitri stated this time. "And she will be treated as such by everyone else while she is here."
Margrave Gautier turned to the young king. "If I may, Your Majesty. You said you trusted the princess. How can you be so sure that she will not betray you?"
"Because she spoke the truth. She never wanted to be Queen, even when we were children. The highest thing she ever hoped to be was…"
A ghost of a smile made its way to the young king's face, only for it to disappear following several puzzled looks from his counsel. Felix was equally perplexed by the sight.
"Unlike her father, she supports my claim to the throne and never once contested me for it. I'm certain that caused some kind of rift between them, but my uncle's desperation and determination to keep her away from the infighting only showed how much he cherished his daughter still…" Dimitri said with a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Since we're on the topic of what should be done with her, I may as well give you the best option. A way to ensure her loyalty to our cause… though I know we do not need such methods. It will require your approval, Rodrigue. But, ah… I suppose it would be more appropriate for the new Duke Fraldarius to have a say in it, since he is also part of this plan."
"What do you mean, boar?" Came Felix's incredulous quip, to which his liege only responded with a small but knowing smile.
"All she's ever wanted to be is your wife, after all."
For Dimitri, there was no turning back anymore from what had already been done. The Kingdom called for his ascension and he cannot put it off any further, no matter how he tried to avoid it. A mountain of tasks lay at his feet ahead of his coronation and you were there to carve open that path for him, at least that was what you endeavoured to do after everything that transpired. When word reached you that Felix would soon become the next Duke Fraldarius, you pondered where your place would be in all of this.
The Itha Plains, its surrounding lands, properties and territories have been consolidated under Kingdom rule in the meantime and all of the dealings you and your father previously signed off on have been effectively frozen. The new king will figure out what to do with the Grand Duchy once the more important issues have been resolved.
While you were initially part of Dedue and Rodrigue's reconciliation campaign to Duscur, Dimitri has made indications that he will need you elsewhere, and that your father's sins are not yours to bear. But until he speaks to you about it, you will continue your work as a basic weapons instructor in the Kingdom, alongside the mysterious mercenary from your academy days, the one who possessed a power so eerily similar to that of "Tomas" and the "Saintess", Cornelia.
It gave you no pleasure to put the knights in place, especially when they were loyal to your father, the regent. Some would declare their fealty to you, their blade under your command should you want it, but it was evident that they were misguided and led away by the false promises made by an irresponsible king who never was.
You missed Rufus, but it was clear to you that the Kingdom would fare better without him at the helm. And you would want nothing to do with ruling even in the future.
When the evening came and training sessions came to a close, it was only you and your mercenary friend left in the castle training grounds to round up and conduct an inventory on the weapons used throughout the day.
"For a princess, you're surprisingly diligent," they remarked as they gathered the used swords in place. "Whenever I think of princesses, I'm always reminded of how… delicate they must be."
"I'm a far cry from delicate, even when Dimitri and I were children, Commander. When Gustave taught me how to wield a sword, I fell in love with it at the first instance. And I suppose it's only fitting even for a girl like me born into the Kingdom, which values strength and our heroic bloodlines over everything else," you replied with a low chuckle as you carefully lined up the spears and lances in their racks. "My Crest made me stronger than the average person, too… So surely there was something I could do to support my cousin, too…"
"You know, Dimitri told me something before the incident… when I was questioning this… gift I had. I thought you ought to hear it, too. You both have the same kind of strength. He believed his power was given to him so he could protect others. Your cousin has always believed in the innate goodness of a person more than anything. That explains why he chose to trust me despite everything. I know for a fact that he believes in you and greatly trusts you, too," they stated with a firm resolution, a spark of hope in their amethyst eyes. "I'm only able to stand here before you because of Dimitri, who believes my gift can be used for the greater good. Do you think the same way as I do? The only thing left for you to do is to prove that you are worthy of his trust. Of our trust."
"I… I'll prove it. I wield my blade in the service of my king. There is nothing more I could want."
Your conversation was cut short when you heard approaching footsteps followed by your cousin's wide shadow spilling on the ground. "There you are, mine cousin. Gustave said I'd find you here."
"Well, we're just about done here anyway, so I'll leave you two to it," your mercenary friend said with a smile. Dimitri gently patted their shoulder as they passed by him. "I'm gonna help myself to some dinner now!"
"Oh, thanks for the help, Commander!" You managed to holler at them as they disappeared into the castle.
"I was hoping we could share a meal ourselves, mine cousin," the young king started as he offered his elbow to you. "You know, we never really got around to talking about your time in Fraldarius lands."
"That week I spent there was one of the most unforgettable moments in my life," you chuckled as you linked your arm in his. "Felix… still smiled a lot back then."
"That is true. I suppose we will see less and less of that once is officially named the new Duke Fraldarius," Dimitri stated as he led you through the castle halls, specifically through the Hall of Kings, where portraits of the members of the Royal Family hung. You paused between the portraits of your father and your uncle, the late king, the brothers in their similar signature Blaiddyd azure regalia, yet still different sides of the same shining coin. "My counsel and I have come to a decision regarding your fate. There were some who wished to banish you from the Kingdom, but I would not have that. I could not agree to that… out of my great love for you and my respect to my uncle, who was nothing but a good father to you, I believe. You are my only family left in this world."
"And you are mine," you solemnly nodded at him.
"I know the Itha Plains is your birthright, but we have decided against granting it to you. There are still some who fear the contention you pose and think you will not be so different from your father. There are still some who will not think twice to herald you as the rightful heir to the throne."
"Perish the thought," you said, your brows furrowed as you shook your head in dismissal of the notion.
"I wish to keep you close, for I know that I can still trust you with my life, but in order for that to happen, you will have to renounce your royal title."
It was an unexpectedly lenient consequence, but not entirely surprising to you. You had no right to be begging for anything after everything that has happened, and to prove your worth and compliance to the Kingdom's cause, you agreed. "That is something I can do. Perhaps something I deserve, too."
"And marry Felix."
???
You looked up at Dimitri with eyes as wide as saucers. He did not just say that, did he? "Wh— Wait, what did you say?!"
"You will marry Felix and become his wife as your way of ensuring your loyalty to the Kingdom's cause."
"I— I would have renounced my title either way, Dimitri!" You attempted to disentangle yourself from him, only for him to hold you hostage with his grip. "A-And what did Felix have to say about this?! He must be seething in anger at having such an important thing be decided for him—"
Your bickering drew yet another set of footsteps this time, followed by the familiar, cynical voice of your childhood friend, who just happened to be your topic of discussion.
"You ought to stop putting words in other people's mouths, Princess," Felix stated as he made his approach. "Are you done talking with her, boar?"
"Since he's here, you may as well ask him yourself," your cousin said with a smile as he placed your hand in the other young man's open palm. "I suppose I'll have dinner with our mercenary friend while you're at it."
"D-Dimitri! W—" You groaned to yourself as you watched the young king's figure walk away from you, as though he successfully led you into a harmless trap.
"What's this I heard about you wanting to marry me ever since we were children?"
Felix was never one to mince words, so you weren't at all surprised that he didn't evade the issue.
It was embarrassing to hear him talk about it upfront, though.
"Th-That's—! Th-That was supposed to be a secret between me and Dimitri!" You squeaked at him. "I-I didn't expect him to actually find it usef—"
He squeezed your hand, reminding you of where you were and the decisions that had to be made. "And you'd rather it remain a secret than find out what I think about it?"
"I…"
"Hmph. Will marriage to me be such a chore for you?" He scoffed as he slowly released you, only for you to grasp his sleeve.
"N-No! I— It's true that I've always wanted to marry you, Felix! But I… I would never want for you to marry me out of obligation! Doesn't it sound like a punishment to you? I-I'm practically a traitor's daughter to everyone else, more or less… B-But this—! This… is such an important matter! This is marriage! I-If we agree to this, you'll be spending the rest of your life with me, of all people…! A-And—"
Oh, you were rambling at this point, your words strung together and incoherent as you attempted to explain your side to no avail. It was only when Felix held your hands in his once more that your mind was silenced from the thoughts that crowded it.
"Princess," he said, his low and steady voice slicing through the noise of your thoughts. "I'm not marrying you out of obligation. This is not a punishment and you are not defined by your father's sins. Only fools refuse to accept the fact of your innocence. I agreed to that decision because I want to marry you."
"I… I—"
"And we're only having this difficult conversation because the boar beat me to it," he grumbled this time, his embarrassment evident by the blush that crept up his neck to the tips of his ears. "S-So what's it gonna be, princess?! Are you going to marry me or what?!"
"Y-You want to m-marry me?! S-Since when?!"
"Wh— Why does it even matter?! Just say yes so we can be done with this!"
"O-Of course I'll marry you, Felix! Th-This is like a dream come true! B-B—"
"I—"
"I-I've liked you f-from the start!" You sputtered at him, your hands burning in embarrassment as you squeezed him right back. "A-At first you were the boy with the pretty black hair, b-but when I started training with the sword and we started training together, I— I've been thinking of so many ways to grab your attention!"
You only realised now that you didn't have to try so hard.
It is now 1182. Two years have passed since Dimitri's ascension as the King of Faerghus. As part of his reforms to the Kingdom, he established his private army spearheaded by none other than the not-so-mysterious mercenary from your academy days, who proved to be a reliable and trustworthy person. They grew to be a well-respected commander by both the nobles and the commoners who banded under the banner of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.
As agreed upon by the king's counsel, Rodrigue stepped down from his position as Duke Fraldarius and passed his title to his named heir, Felix. After renouncing your royal title, the two of you were wed in a simple yet elegant celebration in Fraldarius lands, the snowscape becoming the perfect backdrop of your union.
The promise was sealed with a pretty ring he inherited from his mother. For all his austerity, Felix was a good husband and he was exceptionally kind to you, even though it was mostly him growing and maturing into his role— both as the Duke Fraldarius and as your spouse.
For your efforts in aiding Dimitri in his reforms, you were officially appointed a Kingdom General. The title couldn't come any sooner, with Adrestia's declaration of war against the Central Church. That same church is now knocking at the Kingdom's doorstep and to deny it assistance would be denying Dimitri's ascent to the throne. As a member of the Kingdom vanguard, you understood that the declaration wasn't just a mere threat, but a promise that the Empire would do whatever it could to accomplish what it set out to do.
But the deeper into Imperial territory you step into, the looser the lid on the can of worms becomes— that can pertaining to the cloud of mysteries left in the wake of the Tragedy of Duscur. The string of deceit will unravel by the King's hand, and many of your allies who lost someone dear to them in that incident will receive the closure they deserve.
You don't speak much about it, but Rufus sometimes visits you in your dreams, sometimes in unpleasant ways that rock you awake. When Dimitri was held hostage in Fhirdiad after being captured by the witch Cornelia, you hardly had a wink of sleep because of the image of your father's headless corpse standing at the foot of your bed.
The exhaustion you felt deep in your bones was forgotten in the rage that nearly consumed you in the battle to liberate Fhirdiad. You backed your husband and the commander as they made their way into the castle before eventually safeguarding Rodrigue, who was tired but thankful. In a moment of respite, he spoke of how their captors brought them to heel by means of manipulating the king's heart for his people. Dimitri, who was once consumed by the throes of vengeance for the dead, was so concerned about the living and breathing that he willingly surrendered Areadbhar in exchange for a fragile peace in the city.
There is no peace, you told yourself as you angrily charged at the enemy soldiers that attempted to attack your father-in-law. No peace for me, either.
Cornelia had nothing but a haughty look of derision as you brought her to heel. "Well, if it isn't the Princess of Itha. Ah, but you're no longer that person, are you? To see you reduced to a wife of a mere lord. Your father must be turning in his grave."
"Silence, witch. You're fortunate Dimitri still requires answers from you. I would have struck you down without a second thought if I could," you stated, pressing the pointed end of your silver sword to her throat. "Don't speak of my father. Don't speak as though you knew him. You only corrupted him. And for all it's worth, you were the one who killed him."
That night, you dreamed of your father's decapitated corpse once again, only to find him holding your head in his hands this time.
Ahead of the decisive skirmish against the Western Coalition, Dimitri beseeched you to step away from the fighting for only this instance. He said he couldn't risk you being taken hostage by the western lords and be heralded as a symbol— be used as a weapon against him. Felix agreed with him, surprisingly, but only because your husband noticed your severe lack of sleep.
"Felix is right, mine cousin. We can't have you collapsing on the battlefield because you didn't get enough rest," Dimitri said as you spoke ahead of your war council. "But more importantly, I know the western lords aren't above using atrocious tactics to upend the battle, even more so if they find out that you will be fighting in it."
"For once, I agree with His Majesty," your husband remarked. "Royal title or no, it doesn't change the fact that you are a princess of Faerghus and the daughter of the dead Grand Duke who started this all."
"But don't you see? All the more I should be in this battle. To teach those western lords the error of their ways. To show them once and for all that they will gain nothing from putting me on a pedestal."
Your declaration would have been perfect if you weren't nearly captured in the ensuing battle. It was a misstep you attributed to your exhaustion, your sound decision-making crippled by the fatigue that enveloped your head.
Your head. In your dead father's hands.
No.
When word reached Felix that you were overwhelmed by the opposing forces, he raced through the battlefield in a fit of rage and fury and a flash of aquamarine, nearly razing the enemies to the ground in lightning and ashes.
"Get your hands off my wife!"
You were awakened by the golden glow of the setting sun that peeked through the opening of your lodging. As you moved slowly, you were surprised to find yourself encased in an embrace as your husband slept soundly and calmly on your warmed bed. You were out of your battle regalia and in a comfortable sleeping tunic. There were clear signs of your injuries having been cleaned recently and you couldn't help but think of how much of a burden you were to your allies after having made that thoughtless declaration of strength, too.
Felix mumbled in his sleep, his brows furrowed as he buried his face further into your chest. As you settled into his arms, you noticed the crimson ribbon holding his ponytail slightly coming loose, so you decided to untie it, allowing his silky hair to fall behind him. You caught a lock of his hair and gently toyed with it, curling it around your finger until it eventually came loose.
"Are we… actually a love match?" You quietly mused to yourself. You didn't mind not getting an answer. You cherished these quiet, tender moments where he was nothing but a husband to you. Not Duke Fraldarius. Not a general of this army. Just Felix. Your Felix.
"You're not one for words, I know that much. You've saved me countless times. I don't even know what to say…" You started, your voice hushed to a whisper. He smelt of your favourite tea blend, too. "And for a man who values strength above all else, I still can't help but wonder what it was you liked about me."
"Mm…" You felt his low grumble reverberate in your chest.
The colour of the sunset was lovely, casting a warm glow over your entangled figures, illuminating the space until it prompted Felix to wake.
"How're you feeling?" Came his gentle inquiry.
"I'm well, thanks…"
"That's good to know," he started, slowly releasing you and sitting up. "Because you're going to get an earful from me! This recklessness of yours really runs in the blood, huh? You and your beastly cousin are cut from the same tough cloth!"
Here comes his tirade, you thought to yourself with a small sigh. But it's only right, I suppose…
"I'm sorry, Felix," you said apologetically, your hands gently reaching for his own. "I have no excuse for being caught unaware back then."
"What is going on with you, anyway? You haven't been eating. Your bladework has been sloppy," he sharply replied. "And you've been having trouble sleeping?"
You didn't want to conjure it in your head— the image that's been keeping you awake.
"Hey," he called out to you as your mind wandered, your lashes lowered to your quivering hands. "Tell me what's going on."
"I…" You started, eventually prompted to continue by the way your husband squeezed your hands reassuringly. "I see him in my dreams, Felix. My father. I see his headless corpse holding my severed head in his hands. Maybe I am as guilty as he is."
"You're not."
"Then why? Why does he visit my dreams in that form?!" You sobbed at him, warm tears filling the corners of your eyes. "I…"
"That's not him," he stated. "Those are just your regrets. You regret not being enough. Not being able to save him. So much that you wish you were dead as well."
Instead of lashing out at his realisation, Felix simply encased you in yet another warm embrace. "The truth hurts but it is the truth, regardless. There was no saving your old man after how far he'd gone. And you have to understand that his sins don't define you. How many times must you hear it from me and your cousin?"
You blinked away your tears and gently coiled your arms around your husband's neck. "Does he ever visit you in your dreams, too? Your big brother, I mean…"
"I can't count the times he did," he replied with a low hum. "Perhaps not as grotesque as your father's appearances, but it was still jarring all the same to me."
The two of you sat in comfortable silence before Felix posed another question to you. "Do you remember the jewelled dagger I gave you on your fifth birthday?"
"I do. It is one of my most prized possessions."
"It was Glenn who suggested I give you a dagger. I thought it was strange at first because we hardly knew each other back then… But he told me, regardless of whether or not we knew each other, I should wish for you to carve open a path for yourself. And that's exactly what you did."
"Did I really?…"
"You carved open a path for yourself the moment you chose to follow Dimitri rather than fight him like everyone else around you expected you to do."
"Oh, yes. I think I did that," you said with a soft laugh. "I never wanted to be Queen, anyway. I wanted to be the Grand Duke Itha and your wife, though I knew I could only be one of those."
"Hmph. Well, I'm sorry if the Fraldarius Dukedom is all I can offer, Princess," Felix replied with a teasing scoff. He gently released you from his embrace and reached for a carefully wrapped parcel on the floor. "Speaking of which, I have something for you. My mother had it delivered to us."
"What could this be?" You wondered aloud as your fingers nimbly tore through the thick parchment. "Oh!"
You couldn't take your eyes off the finely made mantle the moment you unwrapped it.
Aquamarine, with cream white fur lining the collar and hem to protect your neck from the elements. You ran your gloved fingers over the Crest of Fraldarius that was embroidered on the cape with sturdy yet delicate-looking silver thread.
"Beautiful…" You murmured in tears yet again.
"I know the Itha Plains is your home, but it's likely that it will go to one of His Majesty's children in the future," Felix stated as he unfurled the cape to its full length before draping it over your shoulders and fastening the clasp on your chest. "This is to remind you that you still have a home. With me."
It was heavy— both the weight of the mantle and the duty tethered to its creation. You would never be the Grand Duke of Itha, but you were the Lady of House Fraldarius and wife of the Shield of Faerghus.
But first and foremost, you were Felix's wife. A dream made manifest the moment you whispered it in your cousin's ear long ago.
You've faced the shadows of your past and supported each other through the most pitch black of moments. Your love, once a quiet promise made in the innocence of your youth, has blossomed into something profound and enduring.
That night, you dreamed of your father in your youth, nary a trace of all his exhaustion, but only a calm smile on his face as he finally bade you farewell, your figure cloaked in Fraldarius aquamarine this time, your husband's gloved hand in yours as you marched ever onward, racing against the setting sun.
୨୧ The images used here are from the lovely webtoon All Colors of Snow by Ah Ai Maria. 💛
#songsofadelaidewrites💛#fire emblem warriors three hopes#fire emblem three hopes#fire emblem three houses#azure gleam#fire emblem x reader#fe3h x reader#felix hugo fraldarius#fe3h felix#felix fire emblem#felix x reader#fe3h felix x reader#floral divider from @/sweetmelodygraphics
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Nightmares (Larissa x Reader comfortfic)
What??? A comfort fluffy fic from the Angst Fairy themselves? Well, what can I say. I like to try things out. Also I love a challenge. Also, it felt right to write this fic today and so I did (who am I to argue with the Muses?). All of that aside, I hope you enjoy!
Tags: Fluff, Comfort, Nightmares, Established Relationship, Second-Person POV, Teacher!Reader, Ungendered Reader, Lots of Cuddling. Wordcount: 1.719 words. AO3 link in title below!
This fic is dedicated to all the people who have offered me comfort. There's many out there, and you all know who you are and are all precious to me, but in particular I want to mention Cat and Cal @tenderheartgrumpymind, @scream-queenlover, @bigolgay, and @heidsworld. I am grateful for all of you.
Nightmares (Larissa/Reader)
You looked at her silhouette in the darkness. She was by your side, the faint light from the stars filtering through the window just to glide on her chiseled cheekbones, kissing her forehead, for once relaxed in the deep embrace of sleep, where no worries could reach her and no decisions had to be taken. Her breath came out in slow, rhythmic puffs, so soft that you could only hear them thanks to the total tranquility of the night around you. Usually that would be enough. You’d wake up in the night, and just fall asleep after a little while, allowing yourself in the meantime to bask in her beauty, in how lucky you were to see this side of Larissa Weems. The side that had shed her armor, the signs of her power. The side with her hair rolled up and held in place by a silken scarf. It had taken so long to get to this point. For your relationship to progress far enough for her to trust you with the whole of herself.
She had been cautious at the start. You could see she was holding back, giving you her whole attention but not her whole heart. You could understand why. The both of you were not at your first relationship, you both had been hurt, you both had been burned. You knew that sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in the excitement of something new, of a new special connection with someone, just to discover that that that person was not at all how you had imagined them to be, or maybe they were, but still for all the affection held for one another, you simply weren’t compatible.
And so people came and go, and you both had found yourself older, and less trusting towards potential partners. Always expecting something to go wrong, because it had always done so. You could see the same reticence in Larissa and – maybe paradoxically – you had been reassured by that.
And as time had proven, it had not been a flash in the pan. While the physical attraction was there and undeniable (how could it not? It was Larissa Weems you were talking about! The closest thing to a goddess that the earth was blessed with!), it was not and had never been just sex between you two, there had always been hope to see it become something else, something more – and the determination to try your best to make it so.
Date after date, evening in front of the fire after evening in front of the fire, you had slowly grown to know Larissa. She had opened up to you as you had to her – the good, the bad, the ugly. She had slowly let the “perfect principal” mask fall, and had shown you her flaws, she had candidly told you how she was aware of many of them, how she still was working on them, trying to get better at them.
“I had given up, you know?” she had confided in you once, as you were sipping wine staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace “I thought, well, I thought I was too old. What’s the point of trying to change after 40? I am already too set in my ways. Ha. Ironic, isn’t it? A shapeshifter who can’t change.” She had snorted at that. A loud, inelegant sound that was perfect precisely because it wasn’t perfect. It was real. “But then I saw you. You came to Nevermore and you took each day as a personal challenge. You brought so much good to the academy, to the students, to the staff itself! You fixed things that I hadn’t even realized were broken. And suddenly, I felt like I wanted to change as well. I still do. I want to be better. If Nevermore, that has been stagnant for centuries can be changed for the better, why can’t I?”
The question had hung in the air, and you had understood the unsaid things hidden between the lines. Somehow, in your self-appointed crusade to make the academy a better place, you had given her hope. Hope for herself. Hope she hadn’t allowed herself to have.
That night was the night you had realized how in love you were with Larissa Weems.
Maybe, it was the night she fell in love with you, too.
Even if you were both living on campus, it had taken two full years before you had decided to move in together. Well, it was more of you going to live in Larissa’s large, luxurious principal quarters. That had come well after you two had officially announced your relationship status, first to the board, then to the staff, and finally to both students and parents.
That had been petrifying. You had been afraid and so had Larissa, even if she showed it less than you, used as she was to have her mask always firmly in place. If it came down between choosing between your relationship and Nevermore, you both knew what her first choice would be. You had explicitly talked about it. You had pulled numbers. You had checked the rulebook. You had prepared as much as possible, hoping that it wouldn’t have to come to giving up your work to stay with her.
You would have done it.
You both knew it, as much as you knew that Larissa would never give up hers.
But luck had been on your side. You had only been showered with positivity and kindness and heartfelt well-wishes. There had been no difficulties, not mutterings, nothing. The only awkward moment had been when the Addams family had expressed their felicitations by sending about a dozen severed heads “To bring horrid prosperity to the new couple”. But even that had made a wry smile come to Larissa’s face, and she had just shaken her head and had the severed ones brought to the biology lab (“Well they’re here already, might as well use them for science”).
It felt like yesterday and yet it had been seven years ago. Your tenth-year anniversary was drawing closer and closer. By now you knew each other like the back of your hand. You knew what made each other tick, you knew what brought comfort. You enjoyed simply spending time together, each immersed in their own activity, and yet able to lift your eyes and bask in each other’s company.
Which brought you to your current predicament.
She knew you suffered from nightmares, and she had told you over and over again to wake her up if you ever needed comfort after one of them. You knew that. And you knew you wouldn’t mind if the positions were reversed. Sleep be damned, if Larissa needed you, you’d stay awake for days on end.
You stretched your hand over, letting it hover in the air above her shoulder. Was this okay? Were you really allowed to? No matter how many years passed, it felt like you were back to being Larissa’s employee, waiting outside of her study, hand just about to knock on her door, wondering if you weren’t just about to waste her precious time.
You could picture her, shaking her head at you, “Don’t be silly, darling! You never disturb me.” And smile at you that precious smile, the smile she reserved for you and you alone, the smile that made her eyes light up and dance. Even just imagining – remembering – that smile gave you strength. You brought you hand down softly on her shoulder, a gentle caress, a tender touch.
“Love?” You tried to keep the pleading out of your voice. She was immediately awake, used to being on call for any emergency in the school.
“What’s it, darling? Everything alright?” Her British accent was even thicker when her voice was still wrapped in sleep. It was adorable.
“Nightmare. Could…Could you hold me?” You hated how little your voice sounded. How it had broken halfway through. You hadn’t even realized how close to tears you had been before you had woken her up, but you could feel them filling your eyes now, making her lovely silhouette wobbly in the darkness.
“Oh darling, of course. Come here.” She turned towards you, opening her arms. You lost no time diving into them, hiding your face in the crook of her neck, the soft fabric of the scarf pleasant against your forehead. “Oh darling, that bad?” You nodded against her neck. You had put up a brave face, not even realizing yourself how much the images and the sensations from your dream had shaken you.
She hummed and you could feel the vibrations against your own body. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. It was going away anyways, the dark, cold tendrils of it being chased away by the warmth of the embrace Larissa was wrapping you in.
“Very well. Then you can just relax. I am here. I have you. You are safe.” You could feel your legs entwining together, skin against skin. She had always been so warm. You nuzzled her neck further, breathing in her scent. Patchouli and black pepper and something else, something comforting and relaxing, something utterly and completely Larissa. You felt her wrap her hands around your back, pulling you tight against her soft body. You felt her lips press a tender kiss to the top of your head.
You were enveloped in a cocoon of comfort, with the world so far away, with all its burden of sadness and hatred and worries. There was nothing of that that could reach you here, in the safe nest of your lover’s arms.
One of her hands started moving up and down your back, rubbing it lightly, soothingly, hypnotically. You focused all of your attention on that, on that single, simple movement. You didn’t know how long you were there, soaking up her affection, her care, her love. Slowly, you felt your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, your breathing slowing down, until finally you fell asleep in Larissa’s arms.
You couldn’t see the small, tender smile that graced her face when she looked down at your sleeping form, nor the second, even more loving kiss she pressed on your hair.
“Sleep well, love.” She whispered in the darkness of night.
And you did.
Liked it? You can find more of my fics in my fanfiction masterlist or in my AO3 profile page!
#dianneking#dianneking writes#dianneking fanfiction#gwendoline christie fandom#gwendoline christie fanfiction#gwendoline christie x reader#larissa weems#larissa weems x reader#larissa/reader#larissa weems fanfiction#wednesday (2022) fandom#dragonmist fanfiction#fluff and comfort#fluffy fic
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(The great thing about deciding to represent Flatland in fic as a totally-different-but-basically-the-same book called Flatworld is that I can, just, casually rewrite it to suit my own evil purposes.)
Ford picked up Flatworld, flipped open to a random page, and began reading.
SQUARE. Most illustrious Sir, I can observe plainly that you are a Circle, though I know not by what magical means you have found an ingress into my dreams. Would your Lordship deign to satisfy the curiosity of one who would gladly know the identity of his esteemed Visitor?
SPHERE. Your question is more difficult than you may realize. To begin with, I am not a Circle, but rather a Sphere, the definition of which I shall explain to you in due time; and you, my humble pupil, if you exercise the full extent of your intellectual and rhetorical capacity, I hope shall be the Square who changes Flatworld.
SQUARE. Your Lordship both honors and confuses me. I shall strive to be worthy of your high estimation, but I am naught but a mere Quadrilateral and know not how I could contain the potential to achieve such a feat.
SPHERE. I see I have gotten ahead of myself. I shall explain the purpose of my visit. I hope to find in you—as being a man of sense and an accomplished mathematician—a fit prophet to receive the Gospel of Higher and Lower Dimensions, which I am allowed to preach to only one brilliant mind in a century.
SQUARE. Pardon me, my Lord, if I am speaking blasphemously in my ignorance; but would not a messenger from beyond this Plane who delivers Gospels to Prophets be better described as an Angel?
SPHERE. You may refer to me as an "Angel" if you so wish, as my nature is not so different from the creature you call such. However, I have come not to offer a divine revelation of the Third Dimension, but rather to bless you with the inspiration to discover its reality for yourself. In this manner, I am less like unto an Angel than I am to a Muse—
Ford threw the book on the floor.
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Forest Guardian WIP
You know when you write a whole fic in service to get to a single scene? Well I started this months ago and I forgot what that scene was. So I'm posting this wholly unfinished bc i literally can't remember where i was going with it but i'm open to suggestions
fantasy au; a/b/o; omegaverse; alpha!eddie x omega!steve
The forest guardian's face was the stuff of legends. Apparently so handsome that he could've started a war. At least, that was what Eddie's employer had pronounced when he'd hired him for the job. Fetch the man and escort him back to the king. A beauty so radiant deserved to be royalty. And of course, continue the royal line.
"Imagine, an omega so immaculate, climbing trees and trudging in the dirt", the king had said.
Eddie had heard the rumors of the creature who protected the wild lands. He didn't buy the whole "shining diamond of an omega" thing though. He'd been out in the forests and he saw what lurked in the brush. Nature was full of wonders and delights, sure. But Eddie was rather certain he'd be bringing back a rock giant.
The king (and many others) chose to conveniently forget the forest guardian's tales of strength and power. Even so, he was given a job, and he would complete it. But not before receiving the king's, shall we say, blessing?
As a bounty hunter, Eddie was trusted to be capable of venturing into the woods alone and bringing back a spirit of nature. As an alpha, he was not trusted to travel alone with an omega of any status.
The king snapped a cuff on his wrist, enchanted by the court's mage. "Should you lay a single ignoble finger on what is mine, this pretty bracelet shall slice your hand off."
"My king thinks so highly of me", Eddie grinned.
He was sent off for his quarry and to his credit, Eddie did attempt to remove the cuff, but of course there was nothing to do about it.
"And what constitutes an 'ignoble finger'?", Eddie mused out loud as he entered the forest. "Am I not allowed to shake his hand? Pat his shoulder?"
The first day, Eddie just tracked. He ignored the animal tracks for the most part, focusing on things that seemed natural, yet out of place. He didn't find anything the second or third day either, but continued deeper into the woods.
On the fourth day, he was entertaining himself by acting out a conversation between the king and his third scorned mistress to keep the boredom away.
"You talk to yourself a lot", a voice said from the trees.
Eddie looked up but saw nothing. It wasn't until his eyes adjusted to the sunlight dappling through that he made out a human figure.
"Well, well, well. Been lookin' for you for a while now", Eddie said.
#now that i think about it#i might been tryin to write sub!eddie#bc while he cant touch steve steve can touch him#but idk#apo writes#stranger things#fanfiction#steddie#a/b/o#omegaverse#wip
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It’s my ✨birthday✨ today! Give me a gift by reading these incredible fics:
I did this last year and it was so fun--one of my very favorite parts of fandom is getting to be in community with people whose work I enjoy and to celebrate them. So, in honor of my [redacted] birthday this year, we're doing another round! Maybe these are some of your familiar favorites, or it's a chance to discover something new.
All of these are listed in no particular order :) and all explanations are a little unhinged. Blame the new mom brain!
Star Wars🌟
Muse by @jewelofmandalore (rexsoka, E, one-shot): What can I say about this fic except that every time I read it, I actually stop breathing for its entirety? Modern AU. College Rexsoka. Art students. They're obsessed with each other. I'm SO SO normal about it.
Labyrinth Hearts by @chocmarss (rexsoka, T, rebels-era, in-progress multi-chapter): We have such a need for time-travel in this ship and this fic, while just a few chapters in, is delivering! Post-Malachor Rebels-era fic holds such a special place in my heart and I love love love this one.
A Remedy for Memory by @ahsokathegray (rexsoka, T, in-progress multi-chapter): I love a good amnesia-induced romcom scenario and this one inspired by the other zoey is so stinking cute. I'm so excited to see where it leads!!
Those Who Can by K.R. Closson (alpha-17/fem!obi-wan, E, multi-chapter): I'm insane about this whole series, which is different paths that Obi-Wan could have taken, but this one is the good shit. I want to inject it directly into my veins. I started it at 11:30 and stayed up until 3 am reading it because I had to keep clicking to the next chapter.
ACOTAR🌹
Poltergeist Darling by @thesistersarcheron (feysand, E, in-progress multi-chapter): Is it even a Feysand fic if Rhys isn't batshit insane for Feyre? As a lover of spooky gothic romances, I clicked into this fic so intrigued by the premise (Rhys bringing Feyre back from the dead after she dies UTM) and the writing drew me in IMMEDIATELY. The vibes are so insane, the two of them are crazy for each other, and literally every word is a gift to read.
Good Luck Charm by @whatishowedyouinthedark (feysand, E, multi-chapter): god bless the daddy kink snail in SVDG's brain because this fic was fucking unreal. College AU Feysand with eager-to-get revenge Feyre and frat president Rhys was EVERYTHING. I had to ration myself to one chapter a day because I might have died otherwise.
Castles Ever After by @separatist-apologist (Feysand, Nessian, Elucien, E, series): Every time I open a MB fic, I know I'm going to have a GREAT time, and this series was seriously so fun. When a mysterious uncle leaves the Archeron sisters three castles across the UK, each one goes on their own journey and finds love along the way. We've got everything—Modern day bodice ripping, fake fiances becoming real, battles staged on castle lawns, Lucien Vanserra being his sassy hot self, chickens—EVERYTHING.
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The Soulmate Curse
Yippee! My first Charlastor fic! It is a soulmate AU one! I'm very excited! I've been inching to write it for so loooong. I was inspired by @desertarcanine to write this prompt in a previous post.
Lucifer has dropped a new update in Hell: Soulmates! What could go wrong with a such a lovely idea? Well Hell somehow finds a way to be Hell anyways. In life soulmates are strung together by red strings of fate. In Hell, soulmates are chained (its a little kinky but let's ignore that). Alastor and Charlie are faced with a horrible curse with this new improvement. Or perhaps a blessing in disguise?
There's a little sneak peek underneath if you are interested.
“Hello and welcome back to 666 News!” The anchor beamed and placed a hand on her shallow chest, “I am your host Katie Killjoy and…” she pointed at the gas faced man beside her, “And this moron is Tom Trench.” Katie Killjoy clasped her fingers, beaming her terrifyingly sharp teeth at the screen. “In approximately five minutes, the King of Hell will be adding a new variable to our life in Hell. The ability to find our soulmates.” Her face was still staring and then an evil smirk crossed her face. “HA!” She guffawed. “Soulmates in Hell? Old Lucifer is losing his fucking marbles.”
Lucifer growled as he watched the stupid talking television, “You know I try to do something nice for Hell!” He threw up his hands and jabbed a finger at the screen, “And this my thanks!”
Everyone was gathered around the TV in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie were snuggled up to each other on the little loveseat. Lucifer was close by in an armchair. Angel Dust was sprawled on the couch next to a very disinterested Husker and an enthusiastic Nifty. Alastor stood back, standing behind the crowd with his eyes narrowed.
This was ridiculous. Soulmates? Alastor scoffed.
Nifty’s one eye raked over the entire room, and she started giggling, manically. Oh god. She swooned to herself, started kicking her tiny feet and said, “My soulmate better be the baddest boy ever.” Her smile turned inward, almost psychotic as her veins popped in her eye. “ Hehe , and he’ll find out what happens to bad boys when they misbehave…” Her laugh sounded like a deranged scream.
Husk sighed to himself as he downed another drink of cheap booze, “Jesus Christ, Nifty,” he added after he swallowed down the foul liquor. “Godspeed to whoever gets stuck with…” he gave Niffty a wary look, “with that .”
Angel Dust grinned, sat up and smoothed back his floppy white hair, “Hey Daddy Whiskers,” he said in that sultry voice of his. “You got the claws. I got the legs ,” He kicked up his legs, crossing them delicately and leaning in close to Husk’s ear. “And we got the chemistry, baby.” Angel Dust let out a loud sigh, puffing out his fluffy chest and giving Husk a seductive side glance, “We’re bound to be soulmates, Husky.”
Husk just groaned as a reply and kept drinking, “I’m too sober for this, kid.” Angel Dust let out a long sigh before scrolling on his phone again.
Lucifer was twiddling with his fingers. A sign of nervousness, Alastor knew, he did it whenever he was around Charlie. Alastor’s spindly fingers tightened on his cane as his gaze swept over the little blonde head in front of him. Tangles of loose blonde strands tucked away in loose hair bands. Alastor didn't let his smile drop even as he mused: Charlie is too forgiving of him.
“Say…” Angel’s obnoxious voice said above the chatter of the stupid screen box. The adult film star’s mismatched eyes glimmered with mischief as he looked upon Alastor. What was this effeminate fellow going to do now? Angel Dust glanced around the room and continued, “Lucifer, is Mr. Smiles here gonna have a soulmate?” He motioned to the stoic Radio Demon. Everyone turned to Lucifer, glances switching between the two powerful forces.
“Well, um…” Lucifer threw a wary glimpse over his shoulder at the smirking Radio Demon. The King shrugged, “I guess so.”
“Ha.” Alastor said, extremely unamused. He studied his nails and twirled his microphone between his slender hands. “I have no need for such trivial things.” Alastor waved a dismissive hand, “I’ll just dispose of them if that sorry fool attempts to court me.”
“Such a charmer,” Husk grumbled under his breath.
Alastor didn’t let that flicker of anger show and instead went on in that cheery sleek radio voice, “Of course I am, Husker. You would know all about that wouldn’t you?” He said innocently. Husk growled under his breath without throwing the Radio Demon a glance. He propped his elbows atop Lucifer’s chair and said in a mock apologetic voice, “It is such a pleasant gift, my worship. However, I have much more…” His teeth shined in the light, his smile wide and toothy, “...grand montres planned.” The Radio Demon resumed his stance behind Charlie’s loveseat.
Vaggie threw a needless glare over her shoulder. Alastor simply arched a brow. What a curious little thing Vaggie is. Always clinging onto Charlie’s arm. Always watching him. He let a small scoff escape. She distrusted him, rightfully so. Yet…if he wanted them dead, they already would be. Well, just Vaggie. Charlie was…he wouldn’t touch her. And he wouldn’t let anyone else raise a hand against her either.
Link is below if you want to keep reading!
#charlie and alastor#charlie morningstar#charlastor#radiobelle#alastor x charlie#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#the radio demon#husk#angel dust#huskerdust#vaggie#ao3 writer#hazbin fanfic#ao3 fanfic#hazbin hotel fic#soulmates#niffty
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