#i have been traversing the realms | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

laursdomain · 21 days ago

Note

Can we have part 2 of “i'll find you” pleaseeee

in his arms

pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

genre: angst + fluff

synopsis: It’s been a couple of days since you’ve fallen into Tartarus. Percy manages to find the Doors of Death, but refuses to close them until you are safe in his arms. As for you, you barely manage to survive the chaos and havoc of Tartarus with the help of a specific person, the act of leaving the realm bringing more tears than you expected. It’s all worth it once you are safe in your boyfriend’s arms.

warnings: takes place in HOH, non-descriptive fighting, reader is cocky, bob is MVP, percy and reader are reunited, fluff at the end, established relationship, annabeth is a shipper

w/c: 2.2k

a/n: part 2 to i’ll find you <3

ྀིpercy jackson masterlist

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

You hated Tartarus. Maybe that was the understatement of the year, you weren’t really sure. You feel as if you’ve been inside this realm for ages, when it’s most likely been a couple days at most. You were almost there, you could feel it. Actually, scratch that. You could see it.

Bob the Titan, previously known as Iapetus, has been helping you out since you found him not too long ago. He had befriended Percy when he first became Bob. Percy. Your mind instantly trails to your boyfriend, longing to be in his arms. You missed his black hair that always had bits of sand inside of it, even on the days where he wasn’t at the beach. You missed the way he always smells like the ocean, the scent always refreshing you whenever you fell into his arms. You missed the way he always wrapped his arms around you, tucking you into his body as he caressed your hair.

You wouldn’t be lying if you said that the only thing that has kept your sanity intact whilst being in this place is your boyfriend. He may not be here, but memories of him constantly come to the front of your mind, being the solace you need while traversing Tartarus. There are so many gruesome and terrible things down here, an attempt to break you down from the inside, but any thought of your boyfriend prevents that. You recount memories of him aloud, almost like a mantra, the only thing keeping you alive. Once you found Bob, he happily listened along to your stories of Percy, seemingly keeping both of your sanities intact.

“What’s the plan?” Bob asked from next to you, broom in hand.

You snap out of your thoughts, refocusing on the task at hand. You couldn’t count how many giants stood outside the Doors of Death, nor did you want to count. There were only two of you, while there’s an array of giants. The odds were not in your favor.

“That’s a great question,” you murmur, racking your mind for ideas. Your eyes fall onto the doors, noticing how they awfully resemble an elevator. “The doors are an elevator?”

“Yup,” Bob rings out, “Tartarus has really been wanting to resemble the modern world, I guess.”

“Interesting,” you mumble back. At this point, they should be called the Elevator of Death. You shake awake the thought, you needed to come up with a plan.

You notice the way a handful of the giants were currently preoccupied with an argument. An argument on how to go about infiltrating Earth. Would it be crazy to try and slip past them? It’s a dumb idea, sure, but it could work. You’ve learned that giants are not the most intelligent creatures.

“Would it be crazy to try and slip past?” You glance over at Bob, noticing the way he thinks about it. “We run past, get in the elevators, and get out. Easy peasy.”

“That could work. We’ll keep our guard up, just in case,” Bob agrees, watching as you nod in agreement to the last part.

Still in a crouched position, you creep out from the rock you two ducked behind when you noticed the giants crowded outside the doors. Bob follows you, keeping himself as low as possible—considering he is a titan. You make it five steps to the doors when a giant notices you.

“Demigod!” A giant screeches, gaining the attention of his fellow giants. You and Bob instantly stand, the titan standing in front of you protectively. You bare your own sword, the imperial gold glistening in the red lighting of Tartarus. You internally thank your godly parent for gifting you a weapon with the type of metal that destroys monsters—it’ll surely be useful in this battle.

“Did you really think you could escape that easily?” You whip around at the deep voice behind you, met with another giant. You weren’t sure who is who, nor did you care in this moment.

You shrug, “it was worth a try.”

The giant bares his death, growling, “kill the titan. As for the girl, seize her. Mother will want to see her.”

Over my dead body, you thought.

You and Bob don’t exchange a word as you two jump into battle, fighting against many different giants. You take on the giant you had spoken to, the one who had ordered the remaining titans to capture you and kill Bob. As for Bob, he was easily taking on multiple giants at once, none of them managing to land a hit on him.

The giant lunges for you, and you immediately go into a roll, rolling under his legs as you plunge your sword into his midsection. He bellows, swaying back and forth until he falls forward, turning into dust. Success. The remaining giants freeze, unsure what to do. It’s clear that the giant you just murdered was their temporary leader, and without their leader—what were they to do? Follow the words of a dead giant or quickly elect a new leader?

You take advantage of the moment, both you and Bob share a glance before running towards the doors. The giants don’t stop you, unsure of what to do. Do they stop the two of you? Do they kill Bob? Do they take you as prisoner? They take too long to think of a decision, because before they know it—you two are at the doors, pressing the button.

The elevator takes too long, you think, eager to get out of the realm. “Enough!” A voice commands from behind you, a shiver trailing down your spine. You weren’t sure who the voice belonged to, but it didn’t sound good. You and Bob turn in sync, met with an incredibly handsome being. You seemed frozen in place, unable to move as the being stalked closer and closer to you. “Do you not know who I am?”

You find the willpower to speak, “no, we do not.” Bob still doesn’t speak, seemingly frozen in place as well.

He laughs, “I am Tartarus.”

Your eyes widen at the revelation. You completely forgot that there are certain things in Tartarus that can wake up and be human-like. The rivers, the places, Tartarus himself. Tartarus is one of the oldest beings alive, it makes sense how he’s able to keep yourself and Bob frozen in place. He commands anything that breathes.

“I do not permit you to leave.”

“So you can have a demigod and titan for dinner?” Bob questions, seemingly finding the strength to speak as well.

Tartarus chuckles, the sound velvety. “No, well maybe I’ll have a titan for dinner. As for you, little demigod, I hear Gaea wants you for her plans.”

“Over my dead body,” you retort, narrowing your eyes.

“Don’t you want to know what she wants you for?” Tartarus tilts his head, peering down at you.

You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat. Surely his question is a trap, right? Being chronically nosey is a disadvantage, because you find yourself speaking, “what does she want me for?”

Tartarus grins, taking a tentative step forward, “she wants to use you as bait for the son of Poseidon.”

Your eyes widen, knowing he’s speaking about Percy. It makes sense, considering he is apart of the prophecy. You knew better than anyone that Percy would give his life to ensure your safety. If Gaea had her hands on you, Percy wouldn’t waste a beat to get to you, even if it meant risking his own life.

“And you’re submitting to Gaea?” You raise your chin, pretending as if Tartarus’ revelation didn’t shake you to your core.

He furrows his brows, “I do not submit to anyone.”

“Well it looks like you are, if you’re willing to hand me over to her.”

“How dare you,” Tartarus roars, taking another step forward. “Accuse me of submitting to someone such as Gaea.”

“Well, are you?” You question, tilting your head at him, mimicking what he did to you moments before.

Tartarus goes silent, looking between you and Bob as he contemplates. Finally, his red eyes fall on you, “fine, be my guest. Leaving my home is much harder than entering.” Without another word, he dissolves in front of us, returning to the ground in which you all stand on.

As if on cue, a ding from the elevator gains your attention, the elevator. You turn, entering the opened metal doors. You look at Bob, who is simply looking at you. You furrow your brows, incredibly confused.

“Bob? Come on,” you urge, gesturing with your hand for him to follow.

He gives you a sympathetic look, “Tartarus was right. It is harder to leave than to enter.”

“What are you talking about?” You hiss, watching the giants behind him.

“I had forgotten about this when I first found you, Tartarus reminded me. In order to leave, one must hold the button inside the elevator, while another holds the one outside. One of us must stay.”

Your eyes widen at his revelation, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. “There has—there has to be another way.”

Bob gives you a sad smile, “I’m afraid there isn’t. It’s okay, we will meet again. Tell the stars I say hello, okay?”

You look him over one more time, engraving him into your memory, “I promise.”

Bob moves forward, placing a finger on the button. You mimic his action, pressing on the black button. You lean forward, keeping your gaze locked on Bob’s until the door completely slides shut, the elevator beginning to move forward. Your body slumps against the cool metal wall, relief and sadness filling your body to the brim. You held up your end of the bargain, you can only hope Percy did too.

Percy was having trouble breathing. Annabeth could tell, Nico could tell, anyone with half a braincell could tell. They were almost at the doors, actually they were a couple steps from it, and Percy refused to let anyone close the damn doors until he saw you. He knew you were alive, he refused to believe otherwise. No, he knew you would appear on the other side of the doors, ready to close them completely with him and the team.

“Percy,” Jason attempts to speak, before Annabeth jabs him in the ribcage. She shoots him a glare, one that is enough to get him to remain silent.

“We wait,” Annabeth looks around to the group, her eyes falling on the back of Percy’s head.

Percy internally made a note to thank Annabeth once you make it back to them. She has been by his side this entire time, the only one who has been really working around the clock to find where the doors are to bring you back. But he knew she wasn’t doing it from him. No, he knew how close you two have been from a young age, you were one of her best friends, and Annabeth was ecstatic when she found out you two were dating.

Percy’s brought out of his thoughts when he hears a faint ding, one that is muffled behind the doors. He takes a step forward, placing a hand on the closed, unlocked door. Taking a leap of faith, he swings the door open, met face to face with you. You gasp, tears refilling your eyes, this time at the sight of your boyfriend. Percy doesn’t waste a beat, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his chest. Jason and Annabeth rush forward, closing and locking the Doors of Death for good.

Your body slumps as it’s met with Percy’s warm and strong chest. Gods, you’ve missed being in his arms. It feels as if it’s been forever since he’s wrapped his arms around your body, but it hasn’t been that long. It was the affects of Tartarus, but that’s in the past. All that mattered was that you were in your boyfriends arms. He still smelled like the ocean, he smelled like home. You knew if you placed your hand in his hair, you would surely find specs of sand under your fingernails. He caresses your hair, sniffling as he holds in his own tears. You were home.

Percy pulls you out of your arms, caressing your skin with his thumbs as he realizes that you really are here. It’s not a prank, and it most certainly isn’t one of the recurring dreams he’s been having since you’ve left. Percy hands go from caressing your cheeks to firmly wrapping around your jaw, pulling you in for a much needed kiss. You sigh into the kiss, you had missed the way his lips felt against your own. You hands curl into his shirt, needing him closer to you. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss as you feel him smile against your lips. Reluctantly, he detaches from you, nearly whining at the lack of content before he settles on placing a loving kiss on your forehead.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your forehead. You smile, wrapping your arms around him as you bury your head into his body. Nothing will ever take you away from him, ever again.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

#laurs⁴⁴⁴ fics #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy x reader #percy x you #percy x y/n #percy jackon and the olympians #heros of olympus #pjo #hoo #pjoverse #riordanverse

108 notes · View notes

offtorivendell · 1 month ago

Text

Why I think Elain's book needs to be next, regardless of ships

Disclaimer: this is, of course, entirely my opinion, and people are free to think otherwise.

Spoilers: the entire Maasverse is discussed, beware.

I've spoken about this a few times, but never dedicated a post to the topic, so here goes. I'll try to keep it brief, but no promises lol. Please be kind in the comments/reblogs.

To provide a quick overview, the following are the main reasons why I believe Elain needs to star in ACOTAR 5, rather than waiting for the 6th (final?) book. I know that SJM has suggested that further ACOTAR books may be planned, I'm referring to the three novels that are most likely to follow the "Koschei" plot, and not whatever happens afterwards.

A chance to become proficient in her powers before events escalate in the final book

Elain needs to make a mistake

True choice in her romance

The mating bond

The crossover

A chance to become proficient in her powers before events escalate in the final book

Aelin, Feyre, Nesta and Bryce have all had the chance to hone their respective skills before the events in each series came to a head. Aelin in Mistward (and beyond), with Rowan; Feyre trained with Rhys and Cassian; Nesta trained a little with Amren, and then more with Cassian when the Valkyries were reformed in ACOSF (we know they need to keep training as a unit, but the foundations have been laid for this, and the rest could, imo, happen in the background of ACOTAR 5); even Bryce trained with Cormac and Hunt in HOSAB, to learn how to harness their associated powers.

If Elain isn't afforded this opportunity, she will be much less able to work through any of the expected quirks in her powers before her proficiency in them really matters. I suspect she's relied on luck and rage so far, but that will likely only get her so far. Because...

Elain needs to make a mistake

Following on from my first point, each protagonist has - in the course of her training - made some sort of mistake. Aelin couldn't harness her Fae powers until she learnt to shift into her Fae body; she also made plenty of tactical errors throughout the books, notably the end of EOS, though she thankfully came through unscathed. Feyre and Amren almost died in the Summer Court retrieving the Fae half of the Book of Breathings, and she made yet another mistake in Hybern, when she joined the two halves together. Nesta erred in the Prison, when she underestimated the Harp and almost lost Cassian to Lanthys, and she barely survived the Bog of Oorid. And Bryce? There were multiple errors made, such as the events that led her to Prythian.

To clarify, I am not criticising any of these characters for having made these mistakes, because we all have to learn and start somewhere. Rather, I'm saying that if SJM follows this pattern, Elain needs to make a decently sizable mistake in book 5 - will she accidentally set Something or Someone free, if those of us who think she has the ability to traverse the murky realm, or unchain the land are correct? This would set the stage for ACOTAR 6, complete with drastically raised stakes.

True choice in her romance

I know people disagree with this take, but for me, there is no true choice for Elain if there is only one option available to her. This wouldn't be such a big deal if she hadn't shown such displeasure at the existence of her mating bond with Lucien, but seeing as she has - and also considering the "hurt and confusion" that she experienced at Solstice, I would be so disappointed to see Azriel move on first and get his HEA while Elain is left upset. This is not a critique of his character, but I would find it very difficult to believe that she wasn't settling for Lucien if he is the only love interest left to pick.

Aelin chose between Chaol and Rowan, Feyre between Tamlin and Rhys, Nesta between Eris and Cassian, and Bryce between Cormac and Hunt. I - like many others - think the love triangle that we should be focusing on is the one that centres Elain, not Azriel. Will she choose Lucien or Az? We all have our own thoughts, but again, it's only a true choice if there is more than one option.

The mating bond

Picture this: it's 2026 (we hope), we have just finished reading ACOTAR 5, and Elain and Lucien still haven't acted on their mating bond, either way. The hatred that Elain receives now, for simply making her apparent disinterest obvious, or taking the time to decide what she wants (whatever the reason), will get a thousand times worse. I don't want to be around for it, it's bad enough now.

The crossover

I haven't spoken about this before, because when I originally discussed what I've mentioned above in reblogs or on Reddit, the crossover didn't yet exist. But to me, it also plays a part in why I think Elain needs to be a protagonist in ACOTAR 5, and not 6.

The fandom loves to laugh - and I get it, we all expected the Prythian crossover in HOFAS to be more extensive than it was - but many Elriels, myself included, read "roses and bread" at the end of HOSAB and immediately thought of Elain, who has been tied to both roses/gardening and baking bread, and for whose story the phrase "bread and roses" could hold significance, as @psychologynerd has suggested. Obviously, it didn't amount to anything obvious in HOFAS, because SJM appears to have focused on Bryce's underground adventure with Nesta and Azriel in the end, rather than having Bryce spend any time at all in Velaris, but for all of that, I don't think our theories have been proven wrong. They're just in their "watch this space" era.

One of the issues that my fellow Elriels and I discussed before HOFAS came out was that, while many of us have noted how well-suited Elain's powers appear to be for intergalactic travel, be that mentally/spiritually, or even physically (her sisters, too, I think, but this post is focusing on Elain), we didn't think SJM would want to spoil the reveal in a POV that wasn't her own. In the end, we ended up with a lot of Elain-shaped gaps in the plot.

So, knowing that SJM has said that the next book after ACOTAR 5 will likely be revisiting an existing world - many of us think Erilea - and knowing that the precedent has been set for worldwalking, wouldn't it be ridiculous to see Feyre and/or Nesta visit Erilea, but not Elain? They're almost certainly more powerful together, three links like an Archesian amulet. We need to know about Elain's magics simply so such a powerful character - a Cauldron Made Seer who is hinted to have other strengths as well - can be utilised.

It would be such a waste otherwise. Think what you like about Elain personally, but kingdoms would kill for someone with her (hypothetical) skill set.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and once again - if you choose to interact with this post, please remain kind and respectful. 💜

#elain archeron #acotar 5 #acotar #elain's book #pro elain #pro elain archeron #acotar theory #acotar thoughts #maasverse #maasverse spoilers #tog spoilers #hosab spoilers #hofas spoilers

102 notes · View notes

ruesol · 14 days ago

Text

Lucid Submission - chapter 6

(feudal lord!sukuna x reader)

synopsis:

The fearsome demon king, Sukuna Ryomen, is reborn as an immortal human man as punishment for ruining the balance of good and evil in the divine realm.

To lift his curse and return to his original form, Sukuna must complete the condition bestowed upon him by the deities.

However, it requires him to have a child with the street thief who stole his coin pouch.

fanfic masterlist

chapter warnings: bloody imagery, fantasizing murder as revenge, Gojo is a serial cheater, I’m sorry.

—

Uraume’s handwriting on the parchment paper is crisp and clear. The night before, Gojo had been narrating all the best methods he had used to seduce his wife and other women, and Uraume had been writing everything down so Sukuna could study them later. It felt like a ritual of humiliation, with the women giggling every time Sukuna had a genuine question regarding a method, or how Gojo would down a shot of sake when he was getting bored.

And all for what? So he could impress you and, well, impregnate you.

The words mocked him on the page. For years, the only things he’d been reading were port contracts, money lending agreements, and other business venture-related documents, but now, he was reduced to a bumbling fool who had no clue how to get a woman to like him enough to let him bed her.

But what else can he do but pull the furthest strings for an unyielding heart like yours?

–

Lord Gojo’s guide on seducing a difficult woman:

Listen to her needs and capitulate no matter how trivial the request may be.

Buy her expensive accessories so she may show them off to her friends. They will complain about their idiot husbands, and you will shine in her eyes.

Kill a man in front of her to show off your physical strength (she will know that you are a beast in the sheets).

Spend time with her and learn about her hobbies, no matter how boring. Lord Gojo adds that being partially drunk during this step helps one stray from going insane while listening to mindless chatter.

Tell her you are only in love with her each time she finds a whore in your quarters.

–

If Sukuna had to admit, the entire list mainly seemed to apply to Gojo Satoru’s life. Uraume had informed him that the young lord had a notorious past of cheating on his wife. The fact that she has stuck with him for so long, even after his repetitive mistakes, was quite amusing.

Sukuna sighs. All the suggestions have a condescending tone to them. The only one that sounds the least bit genuine is about getting you a gift and listening to your requests. Since you are not present for the latter, Sukuna decides to head to the local market to buy you a present before he returns to the estate.

As usual, it is overstimulating. He wishes he could magically conjure whatever he needed in his palm and swiftly leave. Alas, the yearning for his original form deepens, but he traverses through the mist of people. Dull rumbles of multiple conversations fall deaf on his ears as his mind tries to scavenge what you could possibly like as a present.

Uraume follows suit, dodging scampering children and the yells of salesfolk. The disorganization of the street market seems to be getting to him as well. The usually level-headed man was visibly agitated.

“How can I listen to her concerns if she does not tell me anything? The most I’ve heard her say are swear words,” Sukuna complained to Uraume as they walked through the crowd. Both men scan the area to find something that would suit you best.

“Perhaps you took his advice too literally, my Lord,” Uraume suggests as he picks up a silk pouch on display. The embroidery looks impeccable, but Sukuna snatches it from his hand and places it back on the table. “She has no need for a money pouch. I buy most things for her anyway.” Uraume rolls his eyes and continues to follow Sukuna.

“And what do you mean by taking things too literally?” Sukuna continues as the men walk further into the market, with different smells and sights attacking their senses simultaneously.

“I mean that maybe listening is more about taking notice. You can listen to her wants and needs by being receptive to her reactions. Granted, she may be crass and indifferent sometimes, but you will notice a difference if you observe with greater attention.”

Sukuna pauses in his steps and absorbs Uraume’s advice. “Maybe that perverse fool had something useful to say after all,” he says, referring to Gojo Satoru.

“I guess so,” Uraume sighs.

Nothing in the market has caught their attention because, for some reason, Sukuna was feeling especially picky. Maybe it was because of his ever-growing pride or how curt your responses were whenever he’d try to converse with you.

And then he saw it–the answer to his concerns, sitting pretty in a wooden box, surrounded by other wares, was a hairpin with flowers engraved on it. It did not look very remarkable, only crude iron welded together to form the flower, but something about its simplicity made it stand out from the others. A young boy, no older than thirteen or fourteen, runs up to the front of the shop and greets Sukuna.

“It’s a hydrangea, sir,” he says with great enthusiasm. “Welded it myself.”

Sukuna does not look over at the teen and only gazes at his hands, which were covered in calluses and burn scars. Seems like a hardworking young lad who probably cannot afford protective gear.

The old demon’s hands graze over the pin, touching the painted red centre. You have a lot of red robes, so that the pin would complement them well.

“It represents remorse and penitence.”

The boy’s statement hits Sukuna deep in his chest. A critical thought that had been swimming in his mind since his encounter with Geto was that he could probably never reveal why he was so dead set on being your husband.

Worrying has been embedded in his psyche. He sometimes has dreams where you fall in love with him, but, when you find out that he has sacrificed your child for his gain, you cry and scream till you melt into a puddle of blood by his old statue, your skin falling off first, the cavities around your eyes stretching as your bones liquify along the marrow within. Your heart is the last to deliquesce, still beating until it hits the ground. The red liquid glistens under the winter sun as his second set of arms and eyes finally return, then he hears echoes of the Dieties applauding him from the heavens for fulfilling his sentence.

And once again, after hundreds of years, he experiences a new emotion–guilt.

Sukuna is quick to cough up as many coins as needed to buy the present for you.

–

The trek back to the estate felt long, mainly because Sukuna was agitated to give you the present immediately. The thought of your reaction had him anticipating. Uraume had to ask him to slow down repeatedly, as the smaller man’s lungs did not have enough capacity to rival Sukuna’s hulking resilience. Sukuna only barked at Uraume to join him for his morning exercise.

Uraume balked at the idea by mentioning that Sukuna would be a ravenous beast if he weren’t served breakfast as soon as that last droplet of sweat slides down his neck.

As usual, you do not create much of a racket without his presence, which irks him. It seems that he is the only person to whom you display a negative reaction. He gnaws the thick end of the stick anyway, hoping his willpower will help him break through.

And if not for his willpower, then the gift surely would. You liked pretty things.

But before he can enter his quarters, where you’re resting, Nobara drags him to a far corner of the estate.

“You better have something of utmost importance to say because I do not like being ordered around by a subordinate,” Sukuna half snarled and whispered. The pin he had bought you was still in the box, sitting cold in his pocket.

Nobara rolls her eyes. “Well, do not forget that I left my demonhood for you. Anyway, you must approach with caution when it comes to your wife. It seems that you kidnapping her has…reminded her of some unpleasant memories.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Sukuna did not have time for Nobara’s vague message. The agitation was eating away at the patience in his chest, now gnawing on the bones of his ribs.

“I cannot tell you much because it is not my story to share. But promise me that you will take your time with her. She will be more willing to give you the marble if you do so.” Gojo’s words ring in his ears like a jingling chime–Sukuna would need to be a good listener if he wanted you to trust him.

“She has been quiet ever since she told me about her past. Maybe you would’ve known about it too had you not gone on your trip, and she probably would’ve handed the marble over if you’d have just listened,” Nobara continued as she gazed past Sukuna, eyes trained on the closed entrance of his quarters.

Right. Nobara still did not know the exact logistics of how Sukuna needed to extract the pearl from you. And it was none of her business. No one except Uraume needed to know. Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi may be thousands of years old in spirit, but they still behaved like children. Who’s to say what could happen if they knew?

Sukuna found himself clutching the gift box in his pocket. Maybe he could take Nobara’s warning with a grain of salt, considering that you were still somewhat of a stranger and no one knew much about your past. Still, he trusted her word, especially since she was the sole receiver of your personal information.

The gift could wait.

Sukuna distractedly mentions that he needs to rest and bids Nobara goodbye, ignoring her suggestion. He walks back to his quarters, where you’re lying with your back to the door. The uneven rise and fall of your shoulders told him that you were awake. So he approached slowly and sat right behind you on his knees.

Sukuna needed you to harbor trust towards him. If not, then all his efforts would go in vain: the kidnapping, the forceful education, the trip to meet Gojo, and keeping secrets from his closest subordinates. The sacrifices and adjustments he has made so far do not yet weigh down on his shoulders. But the moment they do, he knows it will all come crashing down. It’s best if he keeps his past away from his present.

“We’re going to be together for a while, so it’s best we get along,” he says. You do not reply, but he does not miss the brush of a sarcastic snicker you quickly silence. Something is better than nothing. Humiliation is also a form of acknowledgement.

“Is there anything in particular that you wish to do?” Again, no response.

“Sewing, crafts, visiting a temple, going on a trip–just name what you want. I’d rather know explicitly than endlessly pick your brain.”

You do not budge, only sighing deeply as you scratch the tatami mat. The sliding door to the courtyard is closed, so it’s not like you had set your sights on something distracting.

“So spoiled,” Sukuna muttered under his breath after clicking his tongue. “Do you wish to participate in a duel with me?” he sarcastically suggests.

You sharply inhale, and Sukuna takes note of it. Maybe Gojo Satoru’s advice had some substance to it after all.

“Do you…wish to learn how to fight?”

No answer, but your body has stiffened, which is enough confirmation for him. “We will begin at the crack of dawn. Get plenty of rest.”

And with that, he wraps you and himself in a thick blanket, and pulls you close, his nose diving into the crook of your neck.

Sukuna found himself feeling relaxed for the first time in a while. Your scent had a unique familiarity that he would not find even in the most hidden corners of the Divine Realm. He does not believe that a human can be capable of being so enticing. They were never the objects of his interest, even when he was a demon, only choosing to sink his fangs into their rotting souls when they’d be punished to work through their sins in the Demon Realm. But something about you arouses a guttural ache in him—an amalgamation of desire and, surprisingly, admiration.

He revels and revels for the next hour and comes to the conclusion that it’s the Divine Magic in your blood that makes you seem this way to him. Your soul was created to entice and lead him astray, yet its existence is the key to his redemption.

–

You wake up before the eve of dawn, excitement flowing in your blood as your heart races faster than it has since you ran away from the man who had wronged you. You could say his real name if you wanted to, but even the thought of referring to him felt like a bad omen, so you’d simply call him Kyo.

You were finally going to learn how to wield a weapon–a real one, at that. The type that the shogunate soldiers would unsheathe when there was danger afoot. The thought of running your fingers along the sharp blade makes you jitter in Sukuna's hold, and you shift, turning around to face your sleeping husband.

But before you wake him up, you stare at him, taking in his peaceful state. The man had a perpetual frown stamped between his brows since he had met you, yet now, he looked so relaxed and innocent like a sweet child holding onto his favorite object. Your nose almost touches Sukuna’s because of how tightly he has held you close. You’re afraid that if you blink too much, your eyelashes will tickle the bridge of his nose, and the frown will reappear.

The feeling of conflict has not gone away since the day he had forcefully sat you in his lap and fed you with his own hand (albeit, by threatening to fuck you if you didn’t swallow). On one hand, you want to do nothing more than slap and punch him; on the other, you want to express your gratitude.

The two sides often die down in the middle, where you do nothing but pretend as if you do not have a voice, only speaking when necessary. It’s easier to mask embarrassment that way, but even then, your pride crumbles because Sukuna knows exactly what to say and do no matter how you act.

It irks you in ways that feel like a thousand birds screeching directly in your ears.

Sukuna stirs, and you freeze, almost afraid that he could read your mind (or, who knows, with the way he talked about his demonic abilities, he probably could).

His lashes flutter, and his eyes immediately lock onto yours when his half-lidded gaze completely opens up. “I will get the courtyard ready for your lesson.”

It’s odd how he speaks barely above a whisper, contradicting his usually crass attitude and gruff voice. The richness of his timbre grates your spine, and you shiver, only nodding at his declaration, still partly dazed.

He calls Nobara to get you ready and hastens to get ready. The girl is awfully cranky, being woken up earlier than expected, but she does not complain. She binds your hair in a hairstyle that will not hinder your performance, and gives you clothing that will be both warm and easy to move in. She gives you basic advice about fighting, but it all falls on your ignorant ears because you’re too busy fantasizing about driving a sword deep in Kyo’s chest.

You try to ignore the titillating feeling you get when you imagine warm spurts of his blood gurgling out of his chest, but you have too much expendable energy. Maybe you could hurt him enough only to render him static, instead–a living, bloodied corpse fresh in the snowy forest, waking hibernating bears. He’s dead enough to not move on his own, but he’s alive to the point where he can feel every tear, bite, and dig the bears would make.

Your excitement mutes itself when you see long bamboo sticks in the courtyard.

There’s no one but you and Sukuna in the courtyard, so it doesn’t mean that the bamboo sticks could be for his bodyguards. Disappointment grows with every passing second.

Under the dull light of the cobalt sky, Sukuna finally gets a good look at your bandaged arm. “What happened?” he asks as he points to it. You quickly retract your arm behind your back.

“I fell,” you lie.

“Where?”

“By the courtyard’s steps. I slipped on the snow.” You were sure that he would stop the lesson before it began if he knew that you had almost run away from the estate the day before.

“I see.” Sukuna does not look convinced, and his frown deepens.

“I thought we were fighting with swords?” You quickly change the topic, squinting at the sticks in a grimacing manner. Sukuna picks up a stick and slowly walks over to you. “We will. Just not yet. Every great fighter starts with simple objects till he is adept enough for a real blade.”

“She,” you correct Sukuna. It did not matter if the greatest swordsmen in history were all, if not mostly, men. Within your mind and heart, you were nothing less. A soul comes before its body.

“She,” he corroborates.

The lesson starts with learning how one must stand when handling a sword. Bamboo sticks weren’t as heavy as real metal swords, but Sukuna still told you to stand with your feet far apart enough to distribute the weapon's weight through your body equitably. Optimal combat practice requires the correct posture.

He teaches you how to hold the sword next. His large hands cover yours as you grip the sword. “You mustn’t let the strain fall on your wrists or your joints will ache; instead, let the strain fall on the muscles of your forearms and biceps, that way you will be able to move the sword more freely as well.”

When you make a mistake, still depending on your wrists to move the bamboo stick, Sukuna clicks his tongue before enshrouding you in his warmth, his back pressing against yours. Your spine is aligned right down the center of his ribs. The sheer heat radiating off of him protects you from the nipping morning chill.

“Like this,” he moves, making you swing along with him. But you still repeat the mistake, still unable to grasp the concept of movement. Sukuna groans, and he only holds you tighter to him, like being pressed to your smaller form was going to be the only solution to the gap in your execution.

It’s dizzying–the heat of his body, and his lips next to your ear as he instructs you. You can’t help but tense up completely. And infuriatingly so, your husband senses it almost immediately.

He pulls the bamboo stick out of your grip and drops it on the ground. He gathers your face in a single hand, tilting your chin so you can properly face him. “If you want to do well, then you have to trust me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Your shoulders are still stiff, and the effort of Sukuna’s consolation is barely making a dent in your determination and steeled mindset. It’s hard to meld and mold into what he wants. Life has lost all its logic since the moment you met him on that fateful day. When you close your eyes, you can still feel the chilled soil and snow staining your knees. The past weeks have felt like a fever dream.

The vermilion in his eyes stirred into something deeper, crimson going obsidian black, and that’s when you realize that his pupils have blown wide. You’ve seen that look many times–the heady gaze men would have when staring at the brothel’s women was similar.

However, what distinguished Sukuna’s gaze from the debauchees’ was that it was softer, earnest behind the brusque determination.

“Lose yourself. Fall into me,” he whispered as he stared at you, not daring to lean closer. A part of you wants to rebel further by pursing your lips and doing the opposite of his command, forcing him to get frustrated and oust you from his life, but you know that a good swordsmanship is hard to come by, and this could be your only chance at learning a craft that could help you defend yourself.

You nod slowly, and he promptly moves away, handing back the stick he had dropped earlier. “Now, mimic my movement, and then you can do some strength training for your muscles. Your days as a thief have left you weak. You’ll need to regain your stamina if you want to keep learning every day.

His aggravating comments do a surprisingly good job of motivating you to do better for the next hour. So much so that you pass out due to exhaustion, making Nobara grumble as she dragged you to the bathing room. Flashes of consciousness return to you, but you ultimately fall asleep in the bath as Nobara is scrubbing your arm.

You wake up in the dining room, across the table from where Sukuna watches you like a hawk.

“Early riser, you are,” he scoffs, and you groan as you drag yourself to the table, muscles worked to the bone that they ache with every movement. The spread seems to have more meat than usual. You don’t comment about how you have more side dishes placed at your end. Or that his bowl of rice is untouched and his chopsticks are still clean.

“Please refrain from making jokes, as your humor is nothing to be proud of. I fell asleep in the bath, so how did I end up here?” You get straight to the point with your interrogation, which makes Sukuna sigh. He picks up his chopsticks and presses his lips in a flat line. “Eat a little and I’ll tell you.”

Not having much choice, you do as he says. As much as you hate to admit it, Uraume’s cooking is excellent. The food tastes like he cooks out of pure interest and not his obligation to Sukuna. You used to cook like that, too, but now that time seems so far away. Out of reach, like it has simply disappeared.

A sip of the soup has you feeling almost entirely rejuvenated, and you try biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from sighing in satisfaction. Your kidnapper of a husband didn’t need to know that you were starting to get comfortable with this life.

“Before you lose your mind, I shall tell you that no one other than Nobara and I were around when it happened.”

Sukuna’s statement only makes you raise your brows, but you digress from making a further curious comment, only shoving another mouthful of venison and rice.

“I carried you out of the bathtub and helped you dress up.”

You nearly choke on your food as your eyes grow wide. You slam your chopsticks down and wrap your arms around yourself as if protecting yourself from a wild animal.

“You saw me naked? Wha–Why did you employ Nobara then?” you yell, and Sukuna rubs his temple as he rests his elbow on his thigh. Uraume shuffles in with some tea and makes an off-handed comment about arguing after dinner, as the soup only tastes good when it’s warm, but that only earns him a glare from you.

Sukuna motions him to give you both some privacy, and the white-haired man grumbles something about being spoiled and slams the shoji door shut.

“Nobara may be strong, but she cannot carry a grown woman. If it is any consolation, she was helping me dress you up, so we were never alone.”

“Still, we have yet to consu–we do not know what each other’s bodies look like beneath our clothes. It was rude of you to act that way.”

“You already know what my upper body looks like. I can show you the bottom half if you’d like to be on even ground.” Sukuna’s deadpan expression has you horrified, and you’d hurl your bowl of rice at his face if you didn’t respect each grain harvested.

“That is unnecessary!” you quickly counter.

“I do not see what the issue is. We are husband and wife, and we will eventually–”

“Do not complete that sentence if you wish to live.” You aren’t sure how you’ll set his death in stone (and if he is a demon, then he is practically immortal), but you do not have any significant threats in mind to spit out.

“You have already tried to defy my strength and failed. Empty promises do more harm than good.”

You sigh, your head in your hands as your mind tries to fill in the blanks to the best of its abilities, but alas, no significant memory arises. The only thing you could do was ask Nobara whether Sukuna was telling the truth, and even then, you’ve known the man long enough to be aware that he does not see any point in lying. His ego has him convinced that he does not need to sugarcoat or hide his true thoughts.

“I did not expect having a conversation like this before giving you your present,” Sukuna confesses as he places a dark wooden box on your end of the table. You look confused, but you open it anyway. Your gaze moves from the hairpin to his face, which seems uncharacteristically bashful as he stares at his bowl of rice, pretending to gather a morsel for himself.

“Why did you buy me this?” you ask as you run your fingers along the ornament. The metal looks somewhat crude, but when you examine the pin closer, you notice that the flower has small details like little folds on the petals.

“It is a wedding present. I noticed that I hadn’t bought you a proper one. However, judging by the conversation we just had, consider it an apology bribe instead.”

You don’t know what to do with yourself. You cannot handle conflicts with a sound mind. It does not come easily to you. A person either yanks your sanity away from you, or they’re patient enough to understand you. Sukuna Ryomen had done both in a matter of weeks.

“It is pretty,” you say as you place the box back down. Your soup was still warm, so you continued to eat, not wanting to waste Uraume’s effort. You can feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze on you, but you do nothing to address it. The man across from you is usually eager to show off his power and strength, but all you see is someone trying their best to veil their self-consciousness. It evidently stings him that you haven’t worn it immediately.

“It is. And so will your quarters be once Nobara sets it up soon.”

Your ears perk up in hope, but a part of you thinks he’s joking with you, trying to show you where the true power lies in this relationship (if you could even call it that).

“I believe I have already told you that your humor is not very sharp,” you mumble with a deadpan edge in your tone.

“I am not jesting. You will sleep in your own quarters from tonight onwards. Of course, Nobara will sleep in the same room, so you don’t do anything rash.”

The words are caught in your throat, but they don’t itch to get out. You sink the verbal affirmation deep in your gut, where your pride dissolves it. Instead, you grab the pin he had gifted you and put it in your hair.

“I see,” you mumble, pretending to be absent-minded.

When you look up, you notice the ghost of a simper on his face before he promptly bites the inside of his cheek.

----

taglist: @sukubusss@lady-of-blossoms @gradmacoco @cheriiepies @brunnetteiwik @poopooindamouf @miakxn @emochosoluvr @sunasgf1 @albakugo @00frenchfries00 @kurtswld @riahlynn-102 @purplehideoutmentality @magnificientscarlett @after-laughter-come-tears @justlia110 @dishs0pe @favvkiki @i0lovepink00 @ihe4rtme

78 notes · View notes

o-sachi · 1 year ago

Text

Cowboy, Pirate, or Samurai? pt. 2 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ how the blue lock boys respond to, “would you rather be a cowboy, pirate, or samurai?”

ଳ characters; rin itoshi, sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser, alexis ness, hiyori yo, kiyora jin

ᯓ Rin Itoshi - Samurai

He'd find the question a bit stupid because is his answer not obvious? "Too noisy," he'd say about the pirate and the cowboy. Rin's more of a lone wolf—moving in silence and always planning his next move. I don't see him choosing anything else aside from the samurai. Also, I have a feeling he's not too fond of water, especially the wide and deep waters of the seas that pirates have to traverse. He looks like the type to have motion sickness, but he's too prideful to admit it.

ᯓ Sae Itoshi - Pirate

Have you seen that one official art? I mean... I think Sae has the qualities to be the leader of a ship. Our idea of that has probably been influenced by Jack Sparrow or Luffy—both having loud and vibrant personalities. But even though Sae is more of the silent and brooding type, he has the potential to be a good leader if he wanted to. Canonically, he is also a strategist which is something very useful to commandeer a ship. And as we can see in the main story, it's easy for him to get people to follow him purely through his reputation and skill.

ᯓ Shidou Ryusei - Pirate

Unlike Sae, Shidou will probably choose pirate entirely due to Jack Sparrow. He has seen the Pirates of the Caribbean once and vaguely remembers thinking, "He just like me for real," about Captain Jack Sparrow. So upon asking this question to him, the eccentric pirate was the first thing to come to mind. Oh and if he hears Sae's answer then he's just likely to copy him regardless of what he might initially thought.

ᯓ Michael Kaiser - Cowboy

Out of the three choices, cowboys seem to be the ones that are cherished by their people. They're viewed as the hard working heroes—fighting off thieves or whatnot in exchange for little to nothing at all. Kaiser probably imagines what it would be like to be needed by the people—to be loved by them. He might not be too interested in the whole saving-the-public part of being a cowboy, but he can't pass up the opportunity to be revered as the hero of the people. I love you, Kaiser :((

ᯓ Alexis Ness - Pirate

He'd grumble when asked about the question. "Why are you only giving me lame choices?" he'd retort. Obviously, he'd rather be a wizard. What's the point if you can't do the unthinkable? But he digresses. Pirates aren't magical in any sense, but they're the closest to doing the impossible. They travel far and wide over dangerous seas, collect treasures, and plunder other pirates' bounty. Plus, their bodies are built different to adapt to the tumultuous waters. When you put it like that, pirates seem to be in a different realm compared to the cowboy or the samurai. Even after that tangent, however—he'll still make it clear that he's choosing wizard.

ᯓ Hiyori Yo - Cowboy

"Cowboys have pistols, right?" Well, he's sold. It hardly matters that samurais have katanas or that pirates have literal canons—Hiyori thinks those aren't practical at all. Besides, we can't really blame him for being largely influenced by the shooting games that he plays back at home. He's quite confident that he'd win in every standoff he'd find himself in. Sure, he has never tried it in real life, but if he's hitting no-scopes in game then it should be the same thing, right?

ᯓ Kiyora Jin - Samurai

He probably doesn't really care for being a pirate or a samurai—like he doesn't see anything appealing about it. With that being said, does his replica katana collection and extensive knowledge of the Shinsengumi entice you? Well, it should. I dunno... but Kiyora seems like the guy that's super into swords for no other reason besides he thinks that they are "rad." He has definitely played sword fighting with his siblings when they were younger. He may or may not have pretended to be Okita Souji when he was a young lad.

[🐟]: Should I do the other characters?

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

277 notes · View notes

irishmammonagenda · 1 year ago

Text

How I Think The Obey Me Boys Would React to The Rumours™️

Summary: Rumours have been floating around the Devildom. Rumours about a certain Angel and Sorcerer...how will the demon brothers react? Word Count: haha great question Content Warnings: probably just swearing tbh Disclamer: This will probably not make a lot of sense unless you've read this fic here for context, but ykw life doesnt make sense you do you <3

[dateables & co version]

post dividers by @cafekitsune their post dividers r really cool check them out! (also sorry for the tag!!)

You had left the Sorcerers' Society feeling quite flustered, but also extremely pleased with yourself. Take that Solomon. You grin. In all the excitement of the following days, you'd forgotten about the rumour you had accidentally spread around the Devildom. Perhaps you shouldn't've pretended to be Archangel Michael to gain entry....

💙💙LUCIFER💙💙

When Lucifer heard the news from Beel, he was in the student council room, he turnt his D.D.D off and just placed his head in his hands.

Was this some elaborate scheme by Solomon to gain a pact with him?

Lucifer wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

Sighing; he pulled on his coat and traversed to Purgatory Hall where Michael was staying.

"Michael." The Avatar of Pride stood leaning against the kitchen counter, everyone else in Purgatory Hall was at RAD, so the Angel and Demon were alone. "Oh Jesus Christ!" The Angel in question brings a hand to his heart in mock dramatics, "Warn a guy next time Lucikins!" "..." The Silence was palpable. "...Lucikins?" Lucifer gritted out, his eye twitching. "Michael. This is not the time for your games. I am the Avatar of Pride and a Prince of Hell, show me some respect." Michael merely raised an arched eyebrow, a shit-eating grin on his face as he quickly closed the distance between them, pulling the Avatar of Pride into an ironclad headlock, bringing his other arm over with a clenched fist and messing up Lucifer's hair. "I'm sure you are Lucikins, but you're still my adorable little brother." Lucifer pushes his hands out in an attempt to get away, but even he had to admit, Michael had always been stronger than him. "Michael." The younger protests, "I swear to Lord Diavolo if you do not let me go, I will-" Michael interrupts him, pausing his brotherly tormenting to wipe a tear from his ruby red eyes. "-Ahh! You must've missed me so much, poor Wittle Wucifer! Always so heavy on the teenage angst!" Lucifer growled in a way too similar to Satan when he first fell. Like father, like son. "I don't have teenage angst. Now unhand me you bastard!" "Oh please! The amount of times I caught you in the Celestial Realm listening to My Chemical Romance and Panic at the Disco on repeat speaks for itself! And the eyeliner! Just because the others were too young to remember doesn't mean I was baby brother! Don't think I don't remember the wolf-cut!" Lucifer's eye twitches so hard he worries for his socket. He cab't even refute it. "You are two minutes older than me! And besides! I came here to talk about the rumours of you dating Solomon!" "The What." Michael immediately ceases all noogie-ing, his grip loose enough for Lucifer to slip through his arm. He scowls, smoothing the wrinkles from his suit and beginning to fix his hair. He moves a safe distance away from his older (estranged) brother. "The rumours of you showing up during a Sorcerers' Society meeting and making out with Solomon on his lap. Ring a bell?" Michael, for the love of him, just looks confused. "But I've never even-" He blinks slowly a few times. "I am going to kill MC." Lucifer, even with the ego bruising he had just endured, laughs, partly out of sheer relief, he doesn't want to imagine what a Solomon Michael duo could be capable of. But of course it was you. It always was.

💛💛MAMMON💛💛

HUH???!!!

This poor man's confusion is so strong.

He doesn't want to think about Michael's lovelife. Or Solomon's for that matter.

He immediately rushes to tell you.

"Oi! MC!" Mammon shoves his way into your room like he was auditioning for the walking dead, as per usual, he wasn't aware of the marvellous invention of knocking yet. You quickly closed you laptop lid, and placed the device down beside you on the bed, lest he saw the Archangel Michael/King Solomon 100k, Slowburn, Angst with a Happy Ending you were writing on HellO3. “Hi Mams!” Mammon scurries onto your bed like the floor is lava, resting his chin on your thigh and looking up at you with his usual puppy eyes. “Yer not gonna believe this MC.” He says seriously. "What's up?" You tilt your head, bringing a one of your hands to ruffle your First Man's hair, he leans into the touch happily before jumping up and acting like he wasn't. "Well, 'pparently Michael's after starting te date Solomon. Can ye believe it?" Mammon makes a face. "Michael...wi' Solomon...I don' wanna believe it...just...its mingin'..." You laugh nervously, "I don't think Michael's dating Solomon, Mams....someone must've uhh..." You hold in a laugh. "It's probably just a succubi or someone looking for chaos." Mammon nods seriously, laying his head back on your lap. "Yer prolly righ' MC." You pet his hair again, "Wanna watch a movie or something, Mams?" "Pffft- Of course ya would wanna watch a movie wi' the Great Mammon...alrigh' huma-...Angel...I'll allow it...!" He says with his usual bravado, it was almost convincing, if he hadn't nuzzled further into your hand, and he wasn't looking at you like you were the one reason his pulse was still going.

🧡🧡LEVIATHAN🧡🧡

He finds out after the first chapter to a certain Archangel Michael/King Solomon fanfic was published. Yes he is subscribed to your HellO3 account, and yes! he has emails turnt on.

What kind of person would he be if he didn't read his Henry's fanfics?!

He throws his phone across the room.

When he finally wills himself to get up and retrieve it, he takes a screenshot and starts texting you frantically.

You're lazing about on your bed dong nothing, you'd just posted the first chapter of THE FORBIDDEN FRUITS: A GAY ROMANCE STORY THAT TRANSCENDS REALMS five minutes previous when your DDD began vibrating at such a speed you almost made a very unfunny sex joke. You pick up your DDD and sure enough, its Levi, heh; so he is subscribed to your HellO3 account! Leviachan <3: MC WHAT IS THIS NDVNRO DID YOU WRIT E FNAFICTION AOBOUT MCIAHEL AND SOLOMOMN You grinned. You: Fnaf fiction? Good idea for an AU! Leviachan <3: VFIBNODNORNGVNO MC IM LOOKING ON FORUMS WDYM THERES A RUMOU R ABORUT SOLOMON AND MICHAEL DATING You: In my defense, it was Solomon's fault. There's no response for 10 minutes, until your DDD pings again. Leviachan <3: Why is the fanfic good Leviachan <3: I MEAN OFC ITD BE GOOD, YOU WROTE IT BUT Leviachan <3: ITS SO Leviachan <3: THE CHARACTERS ARE SO COMPELLING AND THE PLOT IS SO GOOD RJRGNVDON Leviachan <3: AND THE TENSION??!! You grinned, you could always count on your Lord of Shadows to hype up your degenerate fanfics. You: thanks <3 satan's helping me write it, wanna help? Leviachan <3: I don't think I could write as good as you guys, im just a stinky smelly worthless otaku :( You: nuhuh. >:( Leviachan <3: But if you wanted... I could maybe beta-read??? You: OFC YOU CAN LEVI TANK YOU <33333 Leviachan <3: Haha tank LMAO ROFL You: I can never mispell anything around anyone in this house You kicked your feet like a catholic school girl holding hands with a boy for the first time in her life, knowing Levi probably was too.

💚💚SATAN💚💚

This man has a web of connections.

He found out almost as soon as the rumour started.

Like Mammon, he immediately finds you to tell you

Unlike Mammon, he actually knocks

granted he knocks for a second before just opening your door so he could've just not knocked and it would've had the same affect.

"Hello MC" "Mornin' Satie...What time's it?" You rub your eyes tiredly, having just woken up from a nap, you sit up and blink at him slowly with sleepy eyes. Satan can't stop himself from cooing, he movies towards your bed and ruffles your hair like you're a cat, you lean into the touch. "Sorry for waking you, dear..." You yawn. "You're fine Satie...what'd you need?" "Have you heard the rumours that Michael and Solomon are secret lovers-" Suddenly you're wide awake. "Oh no. Oh no no no." Satan raises a brow, "What's wrong, MC?" You grin sheepishly, "I maybe might've accidentally not on purpose started that rumour?..." Satan laughs in your face. Handsome bastard. "It's not funny!" "It is a little funny..." You gasp, eyes lighting up mischievously, "We should write a fanfic!" Satan tilts his head, "And why would we do that?" "Because the world deserves a Slowburn Michael x Solomon fic?" "Nope." "Pleaseee Satan! I'll pay you!" "Nope." "It'll annoy Luci?" "Tempting..." "I'll give you a kiss?" "I'm in. Let's write the best Michael x Solomon the Devildom's ever seen." You shake Satan's hand. Maybe you should've been reincarnated as a demon.

🩷🩷ASMODEUS 🩷🩷

Finds out through one of his gossip circles relatively fast.

He wants to get more details so he can tell you later! <3

By far one of the more supportive brothers

So he finds Solomon, who knows maybe he could give some advice!

Michael was strange, but he was always nice to Asmo growing up in the celestial realm, he might as well make sure one of his best friends is treating his former brother right <3

"Hiya Sol!~" Asmo smiles excitedly, pulling the sorcerer in for a hug, pouting when he pulled away again. "I cant believe you never told me! Ugh~...you must've been scared I wouldn't accept you!~ Poor thing...~" Solomon blinks slowly, his usual shit-eating grin replaced with pure confusion, lost in his own rant, Asmo doesn't notice. "Well! You have my blessing!~" "For what?" "For your relationship with Michael, silly!~" Asmo giggles, Solomon takes a deep breath. "For my what." A pause pauses all sound for a moment, only for a moment, before like all other moments, they begin the cycle of movemnt again. Solomon nods rather calmly, "Maybe I shouldn't have turnt MC into a sheep....or maybe I should do it again as payback...." He says to himself Asmo sighs, so it was just a rumour then....

He does still post a link to your fanfic on his Devilgram story, because he's so supportive! <3

No one tell Michael, or Lucifer pretty please

❤️❤️BEELZEBUB❤️❤️ & 💜💜BELPHEGOR💜💜

Being a member of the Anti-Lucifer League, Satan told Belphie who told Beel after taking a nap.

Beel, being the absolute legend that he is didn't really have any opinions on it. As long as they're happy :)

Belphie sits in on the fanfic plot planning sessions you and Satan host, with Beel sometimes joining and giving surprisingly interesting plot twists.

Belphie cackles when Beel tells Lucifer of the rumours, shortly before the first chapter of Forbidden Fruits is published.

Satan and You stand by the whiteboard in the attic, various spider diagrams and bullet points are written messily upon it, only this time, it's not a plan to 'prank' Lucifer. (Are they really pranks if they never succeed?) The sound of munching can be heard as Beel works away happily on a bag of crisps, offering everyone some as you work. "What if we made Solomon run after Michael in the rain." Belphie drawls out lazily, not even looking up from where he lies beside Beel. You stare at Belphie, "What is with you and the people chasing after people in the rain trope?" Belphie sticks his tongue out at you in response. Beel shakes his head. "That wouldn't be accurate. Michael hates getting his hair wet." Belphie smiles, "Good point Beel." Satan makes a sound of contemplation. "What if...we had Michael chase Solomon in the rain instead? The fact he hates getting his hair wet could show just how much he loves Solomon..." You laugh, imagining the scene in your head. "But why is Michael chasing Solomon?" Belphie smirks, "Because Michael said something bad about humans during a fight, Solomon got upset and ran like a maiden." Beel stops munching on his snacks, looking down approvingly at his twin. "That's really smart Belphie." "Thanks Beel." Belphie grins. "Yeah Belph, your angstiness is really paying off." You tease. "Oh shut up MC." He glares at you, but there's no real weight behind it. "Theyre right you know." Satan smirks. "I heard you blasting Paramore and MCR earlier." "Its good music!"Belphie says definsively. "Besides, it keeps me awake. Goodnight." He mutters, laying his head on his twins lap before closing his eyes. Five minutes of silence later, Beel opens his mouth, "He does wear eyeliner a lot when he's in our room y'know?" "Beel!" You and Satan laugh, Beel just smiles happily at everyone getting along. Belphie devises a plan to make you dream pigeons are going to take over the world tonight as payback.

im on a Lucifer being bullied by Michael spree rn 🧍‍♂️ also you can't convince me that Satan and Belphie aren't soso similar to Lucifer bc at the end of the day they're all just angsty emo teens <3

513 notes · View notes

bad-and-drawn-that-way · 1 year ago

Note

Another Vox enthusiasts I see? Well if I may...

Vox with a GN Hacker reader who was turned entirely digital after manifesting in hell. They don’t even have a physical form they’re completely stuck within Hell’s databases, their skills are obviously useful to him so he offers them a place on the team which they immediately accept on the condition that Vox makes them a vessel to inhabit because holy shit are they going stir crazy.

I’m not entirely sure how Vox’s abilities work but given he can at the very least project himself onto screens and the like I get the feeling that he’d plug himself into the system whenever they talk. Mostly because it keeps them grounded, they’re alot calmer when he’s actually next to them and not looking in through a screen.

I hope this didn’t get too wordy or long I just wanted to be thorough because I have massive brain rot for this techno mf-

Take your time with this request! Kisses darling <3

-📽

Dude, does anyone else remember having Shimeji's or that internet episode from Fairly Odd Parents? Cause that's what I'm about to write!

Digital Pet [Vox x Digital Reader]

When you first manifested in Hell, you were completely unaware that you had ended up in Hell itself. Because instead of manifesting in the overcrowded circle designated for sinners, you instead found yourself in a digital landscape. Countless screens surrounded you like a million portals. You could see the different shapes and sizes of the devices being used in hell and could even alter whether or not you saw what was being displayed on the screen or what the screen could see itself like a window to Hell.

At first, you had a massive meltdown. From what you could tell, you were the only one in this digital Hell custom-tailored to leave you isolated despite having access to every device in Hell. You wondered what you did to deserve the extra punishment layered on top of not being good enough for heaven, especially since you hadn't done anything particularly evil when you were alive.

You lost track of how much time passed. You entertained yourself by jumping from system to system. You'd watch shows that sinners binged, and you'd watch the city from large advertisement screens that overlooked the sinner's circle of Hell. Anything to stave off the loneliness.

One day, that all changed when you felt an electric buzz make the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You heard the voice of someone swearing and immediately pulled yourself away from the screen you had been sticking your nose into. When you turned, you saw another demon who was still sparking with some bright electric energy as he dusted himself off.

For a moment the two of you just stared at each other in shock. As far as you and Vox knew, you were the only ones who could access the digital realm of Hell's database. Vox is immediately wary, but you are thrilled as you approach him quickly.

"H-Hi, oh my god!" you breathe as you look him over. He didn't look new to Hell, but you had never seen anyone else in the same pocket of space as you before. "Did you just die? Have you seen anyone else? Did you just get here? It's been so long since I saw another person that wasn't on a screen!"

Vox blinked as you rapid-fired questions at him. He looked you over as you rambled something about the irony of his face being a screen when he finally shook his head and held up a hand to stop you.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down," he started. "What are you talking about? How are you even here? No one else should be able to traverse through the database of Hell but me."

Vox's interest only grows as you explain your situation. "I see," he hummed as he looked you over with new intrigue. "I wonder if you have similar abilities to mine and just got caught in the in-between..."

It was easy enough for him to lure you into a deal. The sheer amount of panic you expressed when he pretended he was going to just leave you there was hilarious at the time. In exchange for you "surfing the web" for him, so to speak, he took you on as an apprentice of sorts. Vox trained your abilities and helped you hone your magic. While you had every hope of one day figuring out how to manifest in the physical realm the way he did, Vox cleverly avoided any pursuit of the possibility.

He liked having full power over you and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't starting to grow attached. While you hadn't learned anything about manifesting physically, you had learned how to appear on his screens. He'd never admit it to you out loud, but he found the tiny image of you running around on his devices and talking with him to be pretty damn adorable.

Despite his manipulation, the two of you actually slowly became friends. He found himself genuinely proud of you whenever you popped up to show him something new you had learned. There was a weird warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when you would bounce with excitement at your new discoveries.

Sometimes you'd ask him to play a certain show or song for you. Even after you learned how to control inactive devices so you could look up anything you wanted, you still liked to ask him to play things for you just so you could watch them in his presence. You'd send memes to each other and Vox had to quickly excuse himself when you sent him a crudely drawn image of Alastor slipping on a banana peel while he was in the middle of giving a presentation at a meeting.

Vox was emotionally constipated, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell that the warm feeling in his chest was growing and he knew you were the source. He clutched his chest as he stepped into his lair and saw you sleeping on his desktop toolbar, waiting for him to come home after a long day at work. He had promised you that you'd watch the new episode of a show you'd been watching together, but his gameshow had run late.

He sits down with a sigh and traces over your sleeping form, feeling something twist inside of him as his claw only met with the cold, flat surface of a screen. He wondered what it would be like to hold you. To touch you. To have you in his arms while the two of you lay on the couch while you made him watch stupid shows instead of...

"Fuck," Vox whispered to himself as he pulled away from the innocent image of you. He clutched his face as he slumped forward in his chair. He had a decision to make.

And so do you, dear readers! I want to make a part two to this, the real question is:

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox

446 notes · View notes

descendant-of-truth · 4 months ago

Text

Actually I think we need to be talking about Darkside more. Why have we as a fandom (as well as myself specifically) been neglecting Darkside when it's the most consistently recurring boss in the whole franchise

Literally the first boss we fight and it's this thing that rises up out of Sora's shadow in his dreams, and that still looks like Sora for a few seconds before it transforms into the version we fight:

This is Sora's dark side, quite literally. And what just so happens to be there at the destruction of Destiny Islands?

Man, with a thing that big and powerful, it's probably responsible for most of the damage to the islands all by itself.

Hey, what was that thing Zexion said to Riku, again? "It was you who destroyed your home"? Boy I sure am glad that the truth is what we hear and not what we see with our eyes--

Oh. Hm. That's a rather pointed dream sequence for you to be having, Xion.

Guys, I don't know why it took me so long to put these specific pieces together, but I'm pretty sure Sora's darkness was what actually destroyed the Destiny Islands. Whoever opened the door to darkness is still responsible for letting it out - it seemed otherwise occupied in Sora's dreams - and that's an interesting puzzle, too, because we're told that Riku did that even though Kairi was the one closest to the door, but that's not a mystery this post is here to solve.

My question is, what the HECK was going on with Sora for him to have a darkness so potent that it manifested outside of him before he had even been on any adventures? The guy's got insecurities for sure, but at this point in the series, they're kinda... normal ones. Feeling overshadowed and jealous of his best friend who's always better at everything than him, always stronger and cooler, it's not nothing but it doesn't make sense for it to be that. If Sora was going to have a darkness that strong, I'd expect it to come from a later point in the series, maybe around KH3 when the number of Terrible Things that have happened to or around him has reached truly insane levels.

But... the Darkside comes from the Realm of Darkness, right? Where time doesn't exist, and if you walk through it, you can be hit with people's emotions from the future?

So, I dunno, maybe it's a conglomeration of Sora's darkness from various points in time, though it still doesn't explain why his in particular gets to become something so giant. But it's definitely a Sora thing, because in Coded, the record of Sora's Heartless develops into a Darkside, as well.

But how can it be Sora-exclusive when there's so many of them down there??

Well, it might not be... but I'm not ruling out the possibility of time loop shenanigans, either. If Sora can live through the Keyblade Graveyard stuff at least four times (five if you consider the theory of KH3 in its entirety being a second loop from the get-go), then who's to say that doesn't double up on the number of Darksides in the Realm of Darkness?

Sora's already got a narrative history of reliving his past, after all. CoM has him going through his memories of his first adventure (albeit altered), Coded has another version of Sora going through his first adventure (altered again), even DDD has him revisiting Traverse Town and re-meeting his friends (in different ways than he originally did but it still counts).

I'm just saying, the heart remembers what the mind doesn't, and that can surface in a lot of ways. A Sora that's been time-looping a bunch but doesn't remember it probably would be having weird prophetic nightmares and thoughts about whether any of this is "for real" or not.

But honestly, even with the time loop theory I ended up going with in this post, the main thing I wanted to get at is that the Darkside is weird and unexplained but suspiciously tied to Sora in the narrative. These are just the connections I've put together on my own, but there could be a lot that I'm missing! I want to know what this thing's deal is, and I welcome anyone who wants to share their take on the matter.

#kingdom hearts #kh sora #kh theory #analysis #meta #This whole post is just me pointing at stuff as I thought of them and going 'is this anything'

100 notes · View notes

nothingbutsweetwords · 10 months ago

Text

ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜰɪx ʜɪᴍ (ɴᴏ, ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ)

ᴅᴀʀᴋ!ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

"ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴇ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜꜱ ᴍᴀɴ, ɴᴏ, ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ."

Word count: 9,700. (sorry)

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Sister.

Warnings: Angst, smut, incest, mention of non-con, violence, blood.

The sunrise on the garden balcony was a spectacle of light and color. The sky bathed in shades of pink and lavender, reflecting its warm glow over the colorful petals of the flowers and the cool fountains surrounding them. They were in that corner of tranquility, enjoying one of those rare moments when time seemed to stand still.

Away from the exhausting bustle of the palace and the endless boring lessons that usually occupied them, they were seated on a marble bench. Lucerys gazed at the horizon, where the sun was slowly rising, while she looked at the small piece in her hands, a little sky-blue horse that belonged to him, her best friend, who always carried it. Her mind was at peace, enjoying a restorative calm, complemented by the sound of the leaves rustling and the gentle waves caressing the sand.

Suddenly, he broke the silence, rising above the murmur of the garden. He cleared his throat, a sign that announced the importance of his forthcoming words. His eyes sparkled with a light that was more than just the sun’s.

“Have you heard the news?” he inquired, his tone soft and gentle as he regarded her. Though his tone was casual, the faintest hint of a smile revealed his restrained excitement.

Intrigued, she turned her head toward the sound of his sweet voice, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. Her eyes met his. “What is it about?” she asked, filled with genuine interest.

Lucerys leaned forward slightly, an air of mystery about him. There was a palpable warmth in his anticipation, akin to the whisper of a breeze through the clouds. “It appears that a proposal has been made,” he began, pausing dramatically for effect before adding, “between the two of us.”

A wave of emotions washed over her, a mixture of surprise, relief, and an uncontainable glee. Her brows arched in astonishment as her mouth fell slightly open.

In an instant, her lips broke into a smile, accompanied by a small laugh. “I am pleased it is you” she said. “We will be together for all time.”

Seeing her reaction, he returned the smile with one that illuminated his entire face. His cheeks took on a rosy hue, and his eyes reflected a happiness that seemed to mirror her own.

The promise of a shared life, now formally announced, felt as natural as the descending sun. Their friendship had been a constant source of joy and stability, from their childhood games to their conversations filled with dreams and confidences, and in that moment, the bond was evident.

As the day melded into morning, they dreamt aloud of all they would do when the time came. They would live in Driftmark, sail the open sea every day they could, and the others would fly on Arrax's back, exploring every realm and enjoying adventures far, far from King’s Landing.

She moved hastily toward her brother. Each stride, each heavy step seemed to echo in her mind, a reverberation of the anguish she felt as she traversed the silent corridors of the palace. Her face, impassive and devoid of expression, could not reflect the emotional storm that tormented her.

Upon reaching the door, her hands trembled slightly as she turned the knob. The maester, who was in the midst of his work, offered a respectful bow before withdrawing, leaving them alone in the deep gloom, barely interrupted by the faint rays of light filtering through the window.

The room was enveloped in a dense atmosphere, and the air was thick with a penetrating smell of blood and medicinal ointments, a constant reminder of the suffering manifesting within.

The tense friction between the children of Rhaenyra and their own siblings had always been present, but what occurred that night surpassed any expectations of enmity, turning the journey to Driftmark into an explosion of chaos, destruction, and despair, marking a turning point for all. And now, Aemond lay mutilated, wounded inside and out beyond repair, his body marked by the traces of brutality.

The bond between them had never been one of great closeness; she respected and valued him, of course, but always felt they aimed at very different things. He had a powerful, dominant presence, determined to protect her from what she perceived as invisible enemies and to educate her on intricate politics from which she only longed to escape.

Despite all this, he was her brother, and the sight struck her with unrelenting force, tearing at her from within, and the blood tie was felt immediately, throwing her toward him with urgency. His face was bruised, with traces of dried blood scattered across his skin, and his left side was completely bandaged.

She approached the bed cautiously, as if afraid to disrupt the fragile balance of the situation. She sat beside him, taking his hand in hers. The coldness of his skin and the sharp pain reflected in his features made her feel as though the world was crumbling around her. Tears began to flow down her cheeks uncontrollably.

The silence of the room was broken by a fractured whisper. “Let me take care of you now” she said, almost like a plea, the weight of regret and sincerity in her promise resonating in her voice, clinging to the hope that she could offer some comfort.

She felt lost, trapped between the piercing pain of seeing Aemond suffer and the cruel disbelief that Lucerys was the cause.

He nodded slightly, squeezing her hand and showing a small smile with the remaining strength he had.

Over the following moons, she stayed by his side, reading aloud fragments of books he used to enjoy, trying to distract him from the pain and make him feel he was not alone.

One time, while they were in his chambers, the weight of her questions prevented her from thinking about anything else. Her family had preferred to keep the details from her ears, but she needed the full, raw, and unadorned truth to face her own pain and sense of betrayal.

“May I ask you something?” she murmured with cautious hesitation. Aemond looked at her, his uncovered face showing his wound, which, although it had not diminished his beauty, bore testament to the deep suffering he had endured. He nodded, granting her permission to continue. “What precisely happened that night?”

His expression darkened with anguish as he began to recount the events in detail, sparing no harsh truth. He described how he had been ambushed, how ruthless insults and merciless blows had rained down on him just because, and how the violence he had suffered had left an indelible mark not only on his face but also on his spirit. His narration was laced with a sharp sense of injustice and humiliation.

Lucerys had brought a dagger and his siblings and cousins, under the assurance that Aemond would be isolated, and it seemed that the conflict had left a bitter sense of dissatisfaction.

Each word and revelation felt like direct strikes to her gut, leaving her paralyzed, her hands quivering as she struggled to grasp the gravity of what she had heard.

Her dearest and closest friend, the one with whom she had shared laughter and secrets, the one with whom she had dreamed of building a life, turned out to be the perpetrator of such indescribably atrocious violence that she could hardly believe it. The actions of that boy, in whom she had placed all her trust, felt like a treachery that cut to the very essence of her being, shattering her deepest convictions.

She recalled all those times Aemond had told her about the callous jokes he faced and the dangers of associating with cold, ambitious people, and how she had thought he was exaggerating. Now, she understood the truth with terrifying clarity: he had always sought to shield her from the darkness of their world, and his warnings had materialized in him.

“They will not be satisfied with this” he intoned gravely. “They will not rest until they have eradicated all who pose a threat to their rise — Aegon, Daeron… me.” Fear enveloped her strongly, realizing that unity was more crucial than ever, and recognizing that she had lost the one she loved most in the world.

“And to think we were to be married” she whispered later, more to herself than to Aemond. The acceptance that the future she had once envisioned was no longer hers shattered the heavy silence, leaving behind a sound of broken dreams.

He regarded her with an intensity that was both earnest and fierce, his gaze reflecting deep sincerity.

“I would never have allowed it” he declared firmly, charged with a fervor that made clear how much his love and desire to protect her meant. Tears welled in her eyes as she faced him. “He is a bastard, and every bastard is a monster by nature” he added with disdain.

She had always abhorred such notions; she knew Lucerys for who he truly was and had never believed he fit such descriptions. Yet now, she found herself doubting.

She nodded, relieved to have avoided what seemed like it could have been a curse, and grateful to have Aemond by her side, who seemed to be her only refuge amidst the storm that her world had become.

As the years went by, her feelings began to transform in ways she had not anticipated. At first, her heart was flooded with excruciating pain. Seeing her brother suffer was a torment, every lament, every sign of ache, cut deep into her, creating a sense of helplessness that seemed inexhaustible. It also hurt her to adopt a new image of Lucerys, with a completely different light.

That pain gradually dissipated, replaced by something more intense, a relentless fury towards Lucerys and blind devotion towards Aemond. His resilience and bravery which he showed without complaining, were worthy of worship, and fascinated and inspired her in ways she had never imagined.

Her life began to revolve around him, at a pace that seemed synchronized with his needs. While he dedicated most of his time to training, challenging his physical limits, she became a constant and discreet presence, a faithful shadow moving through his surroundings. She took it upon herself to nurse him back to health, and she manifested in every small gesture, from carefully bringing his meals to delicately cleaning his wounds and changing the bandages with loving precision.

Each night, when sleep eluded him, he would call for her, and she would come, ready to provide a refuge of comfort and support, trying to make the hours of wakefulness a bit more bearable.

Amidst all this, something withered while something else bloomed, an emotion that overflowed and transformed into something much more mature. The first sign of change was the blush that would take over her cheeks every time he whispered his sweet thoughts to her.

He told her that her care was the greatest comfort he had received, that her love was the greatest blessing in his life, that she was everything he had always wanted, and that he hoped to have her by his side forever, forever. These, filled with genuine affection and a fragility he did not share with anyone else, began to penetrate her vulnerable heart.

Aemond, who had grown into a man of imposing beauty, now occupied a special place in her heart. Every feature of his, every gesture, every look seemed to be wrapped in a strength that captivated her completely. The way he moved, the way his eye shone with an intensity that only she seemed to grasp, made her pulse quicken, as if every beat of her heart was an ode to his existence.

As the sun began to sink below the horizon, painting the sky with golden and orange hues, she sat on the edge of the window, her gaze lost in the vast expanse of the sea, which reminded her of what once was, while listening to the restless waves crashing on the shore.

Her mother entered with a resolute step. “I wished to speak with you, my dear” she said with a voice trying to remain calm and her face marked with tense lines. She turned to her, a faint smile on her lips at recognizing her presence, and nodded softly.

Alicent gently took her hand and guided her to the nearby settee. They both sat down, and the silence that followed was laden with a heavy anticipation, palpable as the pressure before lightning splits the darkness.

Feeling the weight of unspoken words, she looked at her with concern. “What troubles you, mother?” she asked, intertwining her hands in an attempt to share the emotional burden as the sadness in her mother’s eyes did not go unnoticed, even though the reasons behind it were not clear.

Alicent sighed deeply before murmuring, her voice breaking. “I am worried about you.”

She looked at her, her curiosity growing with each passing second. “Worried about me? Why?”

Her mother paused, looking at her with apprehension. Finally, she gathered her resolve to speak. “Your relationship with Aemond…” She cleared her throat and licked her lower lip before continuing, carefully choosing her words. “Your brother… he is not the same since the events that befell him. And I wonder whether it is wise for you to remain so close to someone like him” she said cautiously.

Her eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. “Someone like him?” she asked, her tone reflecting her unease.

“You know what he is” her mother replied in a whisper, as if fearing the consequences of voicing her thoughts.

“He is just hurt, rightfully so,” she defended, “and I can help him” she added urgently, trying to make her mother see the determination on her face.

“No, you cannot.” That was an unexpected blow. “Besides, do you not think that what you are feeling may not be entirely genuine? You lost Lucerys, and you needed someone to fill that void.”

Her mother’s words struck a sensitive chord. She looked at her with seriousness, her expression shifting from confusion to profound sadness. “That is not true” she whispered firmly, her voice trembling. “And do not say that again.”

“You may view matters from a different perspective than I, from where you stand” Alicent continued, still gentle, attempting not to alarm her further. “And you have seen how your sister has been since she got married” she said, tears beginning to pool and her lips pressing together to stifle them. “I wish not to condemn you to the same fate”

Exasperation took hold as she defended their relationship, knowing that not all could comprehend. “Their love is not the same as ours” she said, her voice rising with a mix of frustration and desperation. “Aemond is not as you believe.”

“Perhaps it would be wise for you to distance yourself from him” Alicent finally suggested. “A change of scenery, some distance, might offer you clarity.”

Suddenly, she stood up, pulling her hand away sharply. “What are you trying to do?” she demanded, her eyes blazing.

“I am going to send you to Old Town. There, you may meet new people and choose the husband you desire.”

“I want Aemond!” she retorted, shouting as she neared a breaking point. “Do not do this to me” she pleaded, her face reddened by the tears that finally began to fall as she clutched her chest, which seemed to be closing up.

“I merely wish to care for you” her mother said through tears, rising to follow her as she began to pace around the room. “I seek what is best for you” she added, her hands reaching out in an attempt to touch her.

“He is what is best for me,” she countered, “and I am what is best for him.”

“No, he is not” Alicent said, her voice rising into a cry filled with anguish. “He will ultimately tear you apart.”

With a heavy heart, she faced her mother. “Attempt to keep me from him if you must” she threatened, her voice full of defiance. “Send me to the ends of the earth if you want, he shall always find me upon Vhagar.”

Alicent reached her side, cradling her face in her hands with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of the moment, wiping the tears from her cheeks with a love that contradicted her words. They stayed like that for a few minutes, their foreheads touching, both trying to steady their breathing and meet halfway.

“If you will not do it for yourself, at least do it for me” she pleaded, a call to empathy that made her waver. She finally pulled away, stepping back. “It is decided, then” she said with a trembling voice before retreating, shaking her head, her face soaked with resignation.

The rest of the day dragged slowly as she remained locked in her chambers. She had leaned against the wall, seeking solace in the cold of the stone and the salty air that seemed to try to dry every tear that rolled down her cheeks. Shadows lengthened as the light began to fade.

She couldn’t get out of her mind the vision of another future that had collapsed before her eyes. The image of a destiny that once seemed promising and full of hope had now turned desolate, again.

She would be bound to an unknown lord, forced to accept a marriage she did not want, raising children fathered by a man she did not desire, facing a life that offered no freedom or happiness. The weight of an existence with no option to choose her own path pressed on her little by little, like sinking into water.

The door creaked open almost imperceptibly, and Aemond appeared in the doorway, his figure marked by exhaustion. He walked towards her with silent steps, calling her softly, but she was so immersed in her thoughts that she barely heard him. Only the warmth of his proximity pulled her out of her reverie.

When she slowly turned to look at him, the sadness in her face, with swollen eyes and tears still filling them, made his expression shift to one of alarm. “What is it?” he asked, his voice thick with worry as his brows furrowed.

She endeavored to speak with resolve, but her voice betrayed her struggle to remain composed. “Mother is going to send me away,” she said, her voice cracking, “to find a husband.” Aemond’s reaction was immediate. His eye widened, and his jaw tightened, indignation clear in his demeanor.

“She dares to take you away from me?” he exclaimed, his tone rising. One hand encircled her waist with a strength that was both tender and firm, while the other rested on her neck, ensuring she felt his sincerity. “I will not allow it” he declared with fervor. “I will not allow you to be wed to some mere lord.”

She bit her lower lip, the effort to contain her sobs making her tremble. “It is decided, she said” she whispered, the sorrow in her words intensifying his grip.

“She has no word in this” he asserted with a voice seething with fury. For a moment, he allowed her tears to flow freely as he held her, her forehead resting against his chest.

After a few moments of finding comfort in his embrace, he gently pulled her away, taking her by the roots of her hair and compelling her to look up. “To whom do you belong?” he asked with a firmness that left no room for doubt.

She met his face, her devotion undeniable in her eyes. “To you” she whispered, her voice soft.

He nodded slowly, a small, approving smile curling the corner of his lips, casting a soft light over his stern features. Despite the roughness of the skin of his hands, calloused from the sword, his thumbs softly traced hearts on her blushing face as their gazes interlocked in a silent dance.

“Then prove it” he whispered, his voice low and laden with deep meaning, a glint in his eye. “Let no tongue dare question it.”

Her pulse began to race with a nearly painful speed, each beat pounding in her chest, marking the rhythm of an uncontrollable desire, and her breath grew labored. She looked at him with a mixture of expectation, her eyes shining. Then, her lips parted, a gesture that sealed a tacit pact.

She had imagined this moment countless times, each scenario more vivid than the last, but she had never felt brave enough to act on those desires. Excitement enveloped her like a surging tide, threatening to sweep her away into uncharted waters.

Without warning, he leaned in, and their lips met in a tentative kiss, igniting like the first flicker of a flame. She responded with a relieved sigh, the initial caution melting away into a deeper surrender. Their breaths intertwined, ragged and heated, as the kiss grew fiercely.

Although their mouths had joined before, never with such haste. The tip of his tongue gently slid over her lips, seeking to pave the way for a more intimate exploration, while her hands gripped him tightly, feeling the powerful beat of his heart.

Her fingers glided over his chest, ascended his neck, and finally tangled in his soft hair, pulling him toward her with an uncontrollable need.

In that moment, she was aware that she was transgressing established rules, breaking from the expected, and that her mother would undoubtedly feel a profound disappointment, but for once, she allowed herself to be swept away by the force of impulse, yielding to him without reservations.

Her lips, red and moist from the kiss, were slightly parted, gasping for air as their eager hands hurried to undress one another. He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the bed with a sense of urgency.

With her back pressed against the cool sheets and him dominating above her, she couldn't help the jolt of nerves that coursed through her stomach. She delicately removed his eyepatch, placing it on the nightstand as if shedding the last remnants of restraint.

As he kissed her fervently, she felt his hardness pressing against her entrance, intensifying her longing. She moved her hips toward him, seeking the union.

When the need for another breath became imminent, without uttering a single word, he began to trace a path of kisses that glided softly down her neck, where each touch made her skin prickle, awakening sensations she had never experienced.

As his lips descended, warmth grew within her, and the air became hotter. He reached her breasts, where he placed his hand over one, provoking a shiver that coursed through her body. Gently, he caressed it with his long fingers, while with the other, he dedicated himself to leaving wet kisses that marked her skin with desire. When his mouth settled on her nipple and began to suck, the slight contact of his teeth left her breathless.

To her dismay, he stopped, looking at her with an eye full of promises, the intensity of his sapphire shining under the moonlight as he continued his descent, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

He buried his face between her thighs, and she gasped as she felt his tongue on her puffy folds, exploring her sensitive flesh. Her cries grew louder as he licked the length of her wetness, drinking deep from her core.

Then, as his tongue flicked against her bud, he inserted one of his long fingers inside her. One of her hands went to his hair, desperate to hold onto something as she felt him savoring every drop of her, in perfect synchronization with his fingers sliding in and out of her.

She threw her head back while pulling his closer, and uncontrollable moans began to escape her lips, each deeper and more filled with surprise than the last. She felt her body begin to tremble under his power, a pressure building inside her, her back arched and her hips pressed against the mattress.

"I feel like... I feel like" she cried, her brows slightly furrowed and her mouth open.

"Yes, my love" he whispered, his thumb expertly attending to her most sensitive spot while his fingers kept working wonders inside of her. “Let go for me” he said, and she felt herself slipping over the edge, her body convulsing and her legs quivering as the ecstasy washed over.

As the waves receded, she lay there, breathing heavily, her body still pulsing. He rose from between her legs, his eyes fixed on hers, and as he kissed her, she could taste herself.

He loomed over her, his arm planted firmly on one side of her body while the other went around her neck, taking her hair and pulling her back again. "Open your eyes," he commanded, his voice a whisper thick with desire, “see who is taking you."

She obeyed, still breathless as he aligned himself with her center, and her legs locked tightly around his waist as he sank agonizingly slowly into her welcoming warmth. A delicious burning sensation settled within her as he stretched and filled her so, so right.

A loud moan escaped her kiss-swollen lips, a symphony of pain and pleasure flooding her every sense. When she brought one of her trembling hands to her mouth to stifle the sounds, he firmly pulled it away.

"Let everyone hear that you are mine" he declared, increasing the speed of his movements, drawing forth more whimpers, resonating in the room while her body writhed, responding to every harder thrust of his hips. “And mine alone.”

After the simple wedding ceremony, held before the eyes of the seven to avoid "upset them any further" her life seemed to have been ripped away from a dream.

Days passed in a constant sway on Vhagar's back, as he showered her with gifts and spent nearly every moment of the day making love to her at every hour and place, sealing their affection in a nearly oppressive manner.

But time, like an unrelenting moon, began to shift the waters. The maester confirmed her suspicions, that a life was growing inside her, and everything changed abruptly. When she revealed this to Aemond, she had anticipated several reactions: surprise, joy, gratitude, but she never imagined the stoic expression on his face, marked by a veil of displeasure, as if the baby, instead of being a pure blessing, had become an imminent threat to their exclusive bond.

"How can this be?" he erupted, his expression laden with disbelief. "I never allowed any of my seed to remain in you, and" he stammered, shaking his head, “and you, you have drinked the tea, have you not?”

She remained composed, her voice steady as she explained. "The maesters said that, even with our precautions, it is possible. It is not that surprising, given the frequency with which..." She smiled wryly, trying to ease the tension in the air and lighten the mood, but it faded when she saw he was not convinced.

One evening, as she looked at herself in the mirror, the curve of her pregnancy prominent, she saw Aemond enter with his usual gravity. The baby, already making its presence felt, began to move—a small reminder of the life they shared. She smiled and called him, eager for his reaction.

"My love, come here" she beckoned, hoping to draw him near. He approached with an impassive face, deliberately avoiding her gaze. She placed his hand on her rounded belly, but he brushed it away with a slight brusqueness. "Why do you pull away?" she inquired, her voice trembling with hurt.

Then, though wounded, she lifted her hand to caress his face. "I like to think I shall have a little version of you" she commented tenderly, trying to infuse hope into a situation that seemed to be crumbling. However, rather than sharing in her enthusiasm, he appeared troubled.

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. "What is it that troubles you, my love?" she asked, concern lacing her tone.

"I cannot help it" he replied. "The baby... it changes everything. It used to be so simple, just you and me."

"But it is a natural part of our life together" she attempted to explain, filled with a desperate calm. "It is merely a new phase."

"One I did not ask for" he retorted sarcastically. "Every time I look at you, I feel as if I am losing you. How can you expect me not to feel threatened by this?"

She frowned, her frustration growing. "And what would you have me do?" she asked, with annoyance. When he looked at her, his gaze indicated something deeper. "Aemond" she reproached, her hurt more apparent.

"Do you not understand what this means? It will draw your attention from what truly matters."

She looked at him, still struggling to grasp his anguish. “You are being unreasonable.”

"Do you believe that?" he asked, his voice filled with desperation. "Because I am not so sure. The baby will require all your attention, and I... how can I compete with that?"

She took a step back, shaking her head slowly. “Compete?” she murmured, a note of sorrow in her voice.

"Yes" he admitted, and seeing her reaction, he sought her gaze almost pleadingly. "I never imagined I would have to share you so soon. It is just that..." He hesitated, struggling with his emotions, his eyes drifting to her belly. "The baby... it will separate us once it is born; I will be lost in the change."

Her voice quivered as she responded, desperate to bridge the distance. “No, he will not.”

"The idea that another might possess a part of you... is unbearable" he said, breaking down, frustrated, unable to accept her words.

"But, my love, what we share will not fade. This love we hold for one another does not divide; it only grows" she countered, striving to offer comfort.

"It is hard to trust when everything I know seems to be changing" he confessed, his voice revealing his vulnerability.

She sighed, with a growing ache in her chest, and embraced him softly. "You are not losing me, you never will" she assured him with a conviction that tried to counterbalance his growing unease.

"No matter what?" he insisted, his tone carrying an intensity that felt more like a demand than a mere question. His embrace was a blend of desperation and control, as if he needed her promise to calm his inner turmoil. “Promise me.”

"I promise" she sweetened her words even further. "Just be good and let me help you, do not shut me out, yes?" she said, planting a small kiss on his furrowed brows.

However, promises and caresses were not enough to fill the void that had opened between them. In the weeks that followed, his attempts to reconnect with her through gestures, though well-intentioned, did not align with what she was willing to receive or give at that time. It often resulted in awkward and mismatched moments, as his efforts did not meet her current needs. Frustrated, he began to spend more time away under various pretexts and excuses.

"What if it turns out to be twins, as I had?" asked her sister with a playful smile. The scene was serene, with both of them in the room while Helaena meticulously embroidered blankets for the cradle, each stitch an act of anticipatory love. She remained silent while her heart raced. Aemond's concern for their child was already overwhelming; the idea of facing that anxiety doubled terrified her.

Unable to respond, Aemond entered the room bearing a bouquet of flowers. "I thought these might brighten your day" he said, offering them.

She regarded the carnations, her eyes reflecting surprise and a hint of sadness. "They are quite beautiful" she murmured, accepting them with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Seeing that he was about to leave, she stepped towards him, her eyes conveying a silent plea for more. "Perhaps you might stay with us for a while. I was thinking we could choose the babe’s name together" she suggested, her tone gentle but laden with hope.

He casted a fleeting glance at the door with an inscrutable expression, and replied, "I shall leave you both to it.”

She felt a pang of disappointment, and with a resigned sigh, returned to her place. Helaena, witnessing the exchange, gave a gentle caress to her belly, trying to offer comfort. "What troubles you?" she asked after a few moments.

"I am worried" she confessed, trying to contain her sadness. "I fear Aemond is not entirely happy about this." Noticing her sister's concerned face, she quickly added, trying to downplay the severity of her feelings. "He simply has not yet come to terms with it."

"It is only natural to feel overwhelmed, but it is not fair for you to bear all the burden" Helaena gently said.

She sought to soothe her, her voice a whisper full of justifications. "It is just that everything has unfolded so quickly for him. At times, I believe he fears losing me more than confronting what lies ahead."

Helaena, clearly preoccupied, took her hands. "Once the babe arrives, you will need to devote a lot of time to him. He must adjust to that reality now" she advised.

"Perhaps when he sees the babe, he will come to understand" she said, though her tone betrayed a lack of conviction. "Did you experience something similar with Aegon?"

Helaena shrugged, her expression showing sadness and frustration. "Aegon was always a devoted father, always happy" she whispered. "I only fear that I was not the mother he had wished for his children."

Although the distance hurt, she faced the pregnancy with the support of her siblings and her mother, hoping that he would overcome his insecurities and find his way back to her. But when the babe was born, the situation did not improve, it only worsened.

As she dined with her sister and mother, the conversation revolved around the latest court topics and the children. It was at that moment that Alicent, with a touch of nervousness, announced:

“On the morrow Rhaenyra’s family shall visit us.”

The words hung in the air, and both Helaena and she looked up from their plates. Her pulse quickened immediately. Although she had maintained a steady anger towards Lucerys, the mere fact that he would be nearby again stirred a whirlwind of emotions. The thought of seeing him, of confronting the past, filled her with a crushing anxiety.

During the court session, Aemond instructed her to remain in her quarters, claiming that she should not concern herself with trivialities. She had suspected a more hidden motivation behind his decision but accepted his command without questioning too much, she would learn the details through Helaena after.

Hours later, she found herself on the balcony of the gardens, her gaze lost in the sea, a place where she used to seek comfort and clarity. Enjoying the breeze on her skin, she felt a presence behind her and knew, without even looking, who was there. Despite everything, she couldn’t resist the urge to see him, to ask the questions that had remained unanswered.

“It is a lovely day” he said, approaching her side. His voice was more deep and mature, but just as sweet as she remembered.

“Indeed” she replied softly, almost as if Aemond could hear her from a distance.

“It has been a long time” he continued, his words heavy with regret, gazing at her instead of the landscape.

“Yes, it has.”

“Things got out of control.”

She almost laughed at his understatement. “You took my brother’s eye” she exclaimed, her voice laced with indignation.

“And I regret it every day” he confessed, his tone genuinely sorrowful

“Of course you do” she retorted, the sarcasm unmistakable. “It is not easy to forget such a heinous act.”

“I am aware” he said, heavy.

After a few minutes of charged silence, she broke it, her voice reflecting years of resentment and longing. “You ruined everything.”

“I had to act” Lucerys said, defensively.

“Act about what?” She demanded. “Because he claimed a dragon?” She looked at him, incredulous and disturbed. “You brought a dagger to an ambush, you meant to kill him, just because of that?”

“No,” he interrupted quickly, “because he was going to kill Joffrey” he said, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Did he ever tell you that?” he inquired, his voice mingling with frustration and anger. “About how he was about to kill Joffrey, calling him a bastard, when I intervened.” She shook her head, recalling what Aemond had said.

“Do not deceive me” she said, her disbelief evident. “He would never do something like that.”

“I would never have done something so grave without a serious reason” he insisted.

“Speak not ill of him” she warned, her voice rising in a defensive shout. “You were always unkind to him, always.”

��Unkind, yes” he said, his expression torn. “Do you truly consider me a monster?” he asked, his eyes filling with tears.

“I did not until that day” she replied firmly.

Lucerys gazed at her with an intensity that seemed to pierce her very soul. “You knew me better than any other” he whispered, making her tremble. “Do you truly believe I could be capable of that?”

She was left speechless, feeling her carefully constructed world beginning to crumble. She turned away, desiring to process what she had just heard. When she noticed that Lucerys was trying to follow her, she raised a hand in a gesture of plea, asking for space.

Upon reaching her room, she collapsed onto the bed, her legs feeling like water. Her breathing became erratic, and doubts seemed endless, pulling her deeper into a sea of anguish.

Minutes later, Aemond burst in, and upon seeing her in such a state, he approached quickly, his face overflowing with concern.

“What happened?” he asked urgently, searching her gaze.

“What happened that night?”

He frowned in confusion. “What night?”

“The night you lost your eye” she said, her voice breaking as she sought answers.

“Do you wish me to recount the events of that night?” he inquired. “Besided, I have already told you.”

She gazed at him intently, silently pleading for the truth. Seeing her resolve, he began to recount. “When I entered the castle, after claiming Vhagar, they were waiting for me. The five of them began to attack me without cause, and Lucerys took my dagger and...”

“Lucerys took your dagger?” she interrupted. “I thought he had brought the dagger.”

He stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. “I must have made a mistake. It was many years ago” he simply said. Then, his face began to harden, his expression shifting from confusion to irritation. He stood up, visibly agitated. “Have you spoken to him?” he asked, his tone edged with irritation.

“Then answer me” she demanded, her voice steely. “Which version is it?”

He remained silent, his gaze revealing anger and disappointment. Finally, he shook his head with an attitude that seemed more mocking than sincere.

“I am at a loss” she said, her voice quavering with confusion and anguish, her insecurity filling every word as she rose from the bed, pacing nervously around the room. She placed a hand on her abdomen, grasping at the air as if it were slipping through her fingers.

“Do you now side with him?” he asked, low. “With the one who took my eye?”

The pain pierced her. Despite witnessing Aemond’s vulnerability, the doubts she had tried to suppress began to resurface.

“I have always listened to you alone, I have placed my faith in you,” she said, her voice breaking. “But now…” The version of events he had told her seemed increasingly fragile.

“I wish to be left alone” she asked, feeling hopeless.

But he, with determined steps, his expression tense and eyes fixed on her, stood in front of her. He took her by the jaw with one hand, forcing her to look at him. His eye, reddened by distress, could no longer conceal what was hidden behind it.

“Please, let go of me” she begged, frightened. She felt that the man before her was no longer the one she knew and trusted.

“No” he said, with a terrifying firmness. “Everything I have done has always been to protect what is mine.” His hands gripped her skin with a force that promised to leave marks. “But if you wish for me to be the villain” he whispered with icy intensity, “perhaps I should be.”

She frowned, struggling beneath his grip, but he held her immovably with an unyielding strength. Every attempt to free herself seemed futile against his determination.

“You have casted me aside, and now you doubt my word?” he asked rhetorically, his voice taut and sharp. “It is time for me to impose order” he said, jaw clenched, taking her by the hair and dragging her towards the bed.

“Let go of me” she pleaded again through tears. Desperation and pain were reflected in every movement as she tried to escape the embrace that was no longer comforting and warm.

He held her, and her scalp ached from his grip. "You have forgotten who you belong to" he told her, his voice threatening and his hot breath against her ear, while with the other hand he lowered his pants and then began to lift her dress.

In the bathtub, the cold water had already chilled her wrinkled skin, and her vacant stare remained fixed on nothingness. With the tea Aemond had sent and half a jug of wine in her system, she tried to numb the pain.

Helaena found her there and, without a word, helped her up, then chose a blue dress for her—one she had embroidered long ago and had never had the chance to wear.

As her sister worked on her hair, her voice cracked with a whisper full of desolation. “Do you ever imagine what it would have been like?” she asked.

Helaena hesitated for a moment before asking, as if she didn’t already know. “What do you mean?”

“How it would all be if mother had married us to them” she replied, her eyes dry, devoid of any remaining tears.

Helaena paused, feeling the weight of the words. “Every day” with a long sigh, she admitted.

“I wish I knew what it would have been like” she murmured. They remained silent for a few minutes, embraced by the pain, until their mother called them to supper

When their king arrived, carried in a chair by guards, it marked the beginning of the other part of the evening. Aemond, sitting beside her, did not utter a word. Her gaze remained fixed on her cup, as if the drink was merely a distraction in an environment that no longer made sense.

“How good it is to see you all tonight, together” he said, his gaze sweeping over the table with sadness. “This is an occasion for celebration, it seems,” he continued, “my grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses.”

The news broke her heart, and the pain was evident in the exchanged glances between her and Luke. The rest exchanged smiles, but for her, the moment was one of deep mourning. “A toast to the young princes and their betrothed.”

The glasses were raised in a general toast, and she drank from her glass in one gulp, seeking the comfort she couldn’t find. Then she hurriedly refilled her glass.

“Let us toast as well to Prince Lucerys, the future Lord of the Tides” he added, and everyone raised their glasses again. “Hear, hear” they said in unison, while Rhaena congratulated Lucerys with a cheerful whisper. She emptied her glass again, feeling the warm liquid course down her throat.

When he stood up to make a toast, the room fell into anticipation. Every movement he made seemed painful, and this only intensified her sense of sadness. Although her relationship with him had never been particularly close, the proximity of his departure put everything into perspective, and her heart ached at the impending reality.

With a raspy tone reflecting his weariness, the king said “It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world, yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.”

He attempted to smile, but his effort only highlighted the frailty the years had left in him. “My own face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was, but tonight I wish you to see me as I am. Not just as a king, but your father, your brother, your husband, and your grandsire,” he continued, “who may not, it seems, walk for much longer among you.”

“Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts” he pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. “The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances, if not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly” he begged, his sorrow evident as he sat down and Alicent helped him adjust his mask once more.

Jace suddenly stood up after a few toasts, drawing everyone’s attention. She was absorbed in her thoughts, her eyes fixed on the empty glass, and the abrupt change at the table jolted her. Aegon returned to his seat, casting curious glances at Jace, while Aemond stood up, his presence imposing silence and attention. She huffed in annoyance as she poured more wine.

When Jacacerys raised his glass, his gaze fixed on Aemond, Helaena listened intently. “To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond” her nephew said with a smile that seemed more a formality than a genuine celebration.

“We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles” with a final sip, he ended his toast, and she watched as the tension mounted.

“To you as well” said Aegon, his tone an indifference that did nothing to ease the atmosphere. Helaena fidgeted nervously, a small tremor on her lips, and she refilled her glass, much to Aemond’s displeasure, who was burning her with his gaze and asking her to stop.

With an unexpected impulse, she abruptly stood up, surprising him and immediately catching Lucerys’s concerned glance. Her glass trembled slightly in her hands, and her gaze settled on Rhaena and Baela, who were radiant with a hope she envied deeply.

“I would like to toast to Rhaena and Baela” she said firmly, raising her glass with a smile that failed to hide the sadness in her eyes. “They will be married soon.”

The young woman's smiles were a glimmer of happiness amidst the gloom that enveloped her. The sight intensified her pain. She felt overwhelmed; the life they will have is a fantasy she had let go, full of promise and hope, and her reality seemed even darker in contrast.

“It is not so bad, mostly he just ignores you” she said, trying to sound lighthearted. “Except sometimes when he is mad” she added, her voice breaking slightly at the end of the sentence, and with one last long sip from her glass and a poor attempt at a smile, she sat back down. Tears pooled in her eyes, heavy and treacherous, but she managed to hold them back, though her heart ached seeing the concern, sadness, and anger on Lucerys’s face.

“Or when he is drunk” Helaena added with an equally harsh truth. Aegon was clearly irritated, and Aemond, beside her, visibly tensed. Otto looked at them, his lips slightly turned down as he sighed.

“Let us have some music” Viserys suggested, as a momentary truce, an invitation to disconnect. When the melodies began to fill the space and more wine flowed freely, the atmosphere gradually relaxed.

She was holding Helaena’s hand when they looked up and saw Jace and Lucerys extending their hands with a silent but clear invitation. Her heart skipped a beat seeing Lucerys, and in her broken gaze, there was a trace of hope.

They accepted the invitation with a trembling smile, avoiding the gaze of the men beside them. Nervous laughter escaped her lips as the four of them moved toward the cleared area.

Though they were not experts in the art of dancing, the joy of the moment became evident. Their movements were awkward but filled with a fleeting happiness. The contrast between the joy of the dance and the internal sadness was hurtful, yet also sweet, like a taste of what could have been.

As they twirled and changed partners, time seemed to stand still, the melody offering them a respite. Helaena and she found themselves holding hands, and her sister whispered with gentle melancholy: “This is how it would have been.” She smiled. For a brief moment, the pain faded.

Applause and laughter filled the room, and Otto and Alicent watched them with smiles, perhaps pleased to see the two enjoying their brief escape, while Aemond and Aegon’s scorching stares were fixed on their backs.

After a few more minutes of laughter, everyone stood up. Realizing what was happening, they also stopped, catching their breath while watching their father, understanding that this might be the last time. They held each other's hands tightly, and when he disappeared through the door, they decided to continue dancing, honoring his final wish.

When Luke extended his hand again, with a nostalgic smile that reminded her of the one he used to give her as a child, a loud thud resonated from the table, startling them. Turning to face the table, they saw Aemond with his glass raised toward them.

“Final tribute” he said, looking at her. She sensed what was coming as she glanced at her mother, who in turn looked at Aemond with alarm. Suddenly, he shifted his gaze to Luke. “To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey” he said, the tone subtly changing with the second name. “Each of them handsome, wise…” he paused, a small smile curving his lips, “strong” he concluded.

“Come” he said, raising his glass higher, just like Aegon. “Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again” Jace challenged, chin lifted.

“Why? It was only a compliment” Aemond said as he approached. “Do you not think yourself strong?” he taunted.

Luke landed a solid blow on Aemond, making his face turn sideways, though not a drop was spilled from his glass. Aegon, in turn, went after Jace.

“Enough” Alicent shouted, standing up from the table.

Aemond looked at Luke with a sneering smile as he pushed him to the ground. Seeing Luke on the floor made him smile even more, and then he turned his gaze to her for a brief moment. Alicent tried to reach Aemond, attempting to grab him, but he brushed her off with indifference.

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother” he said, turning back to them. Both Luke and Jace were being held by the guards, struggling to break free. “Though it seems my nephews are not quite as proud of theirs.”

She watched him from a distance, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Daemon's intervention, standing firm and stepping in, made Aemond uninterested in continuing the confrontation. He walked with measured steps toward her, grabbing her by the wrist, and dragged her out of the hall, ignoring her protests. She turned her head one last time to look at Lucerys, a trace of desperation in his eyes as the guards kept him apart.

Nights passed since the coronation of her brother, and the silence of her mother's missives had become a deafening echo, a void. No letters, no attempts at negotiation had received a response.

Just before leaving for Storm's End to seek Lord Baratheon's support and his army, Aemond found her staring out at the sea, the sky darkening into shades of gray and deep blue, with clouds threatening to obscure every star.

“I know I have erred” he confessed, his voice carrying a depth of vulnerability. “I should not have treated you in such a manner. You have been my heart’s desire since our youth, always” he whispered, the weight of his confession reflected in the melancholy of his words. “You stood by me in my darkest hours. When everything seemed to be falling apart around me, you were there. Yet, seeing you turn to him… it tore me apart” his voice cracked, and his words flowed like a torrent of anguish, each syllable imbued with deep sorrow.

“I have never known such pain, such abandonment” he continued, as if the wounded child he once was had returned, now with a heart full of desperation, pleading for forgiveness and filled with remorse.

She felt a tug in her soul, as if the child who once yearned to soothe his pain was listening. Yet she resisted the urge to look at him; she knew that if she did, she would succumb.

“You are aware of their nature, of what they are capable of. You have witnessed it, even if you allow them to sweeten your ears against the truth” he added, his voice heavy with helplessness. “Perhaps you still hold love for our enemy, a love that clouds your ability to see my perspective.”

“But I can remedy that” he said, like a solemn oath, pointing to his chest with a painful resolve. “You have always been meant for me, and me alone. No matter what, you said” he declared, with an oppressive anticipation, palpable like the fury of a storm about to break.

She, still agitated, kept her gaze fixed on the sea, where the water continued its chaotic dance.

The rest of the day slipped by in restless thoughts. Although anger consumed her and sadness bound her, there was something unbreakable that kept her alert: Aemond remained her brother, the father of her child, her husband. This complexity kept her on edge, and her concern grew when he did not return at the expected time.

Night fell like a dark cloak, and the thunder of Vhagar’s wings echoed through the sky as the waves crashed against the rocks with a rage that seemed to shake the very earth. The night chill seeped into her bones, and her breath condensed into clouds of vapor that floated in the icy air, a cruel irony compared to the warm calm of previous nights.

The sound of the door opening startled her. She turned slowly, but the darkness made it hard to discern his figure looming in the doorway.

“You are awake” his voice resonated between the stone walls.

“I needed to make sure you were well” she replied, straining to see through the gloom.

“Did you?” he questioned, skeptical.

“Yes” she answered. “Come here” she requested softly. He began to move slowly toward her, the dim light of the moon revealing him bit by bit. He was drenched, the rain had plastered his clothes to his body, and he had his arms crossed over his back, as if trying to hide himself from something other than the cold.

“Shall I prepare you a hot bath?” she offered, noticing his disheveled state. He continued to regard her with an unyielding expression.

“No” he replied firmly, approaching.

As he drew nearer, and she could finally see him clearly, her heart raced even faster. She frowned upon noticing traces of blood on his face and moved closer, her concern taking over. “Aemond, speak to me” she urged, her voice trembling with desperation. “Are you hurt?”

“Are you worried about me?” he asked, with a glimmer of hope.

“Of course I am, Aemond” she said, gently cupping his face in her hands. He allowed her to examine him in silence. “Are you hurt?” she repeated, fear tightening her chest. “Please, tell me, what happened?” she implored, looking at him intently, her heart pounding wildly.

He gave her a faint smile, resting his right hand on the hilt of his dagger, the blood still fresh, staining the steel like a bad omen, while his left remained clenched at his side. Confusion twisted in her gut as she looked at him, desperately searching for visible wounds, but finding only the sinister glint of his blade.

Then, with a deliberate slowness, he opened his left hand, and an eye fell from his palm, rolling to the floor with a sickening thud. The reality crashed over her like a cascade of icy water, freezing her in place. She stepped back, retreating slowly, her heart pounding in her chest as he watched her with a predatory intensity. “What have you done?” she asked, horror and accusation in her shaky voice.

“Only what was necessary” he whispered, deceptively soft. “I have always asked for you, only you, all for myself” he said, taking a deliberate step toward her. “I thought I had succeeded” he continued, moving closer, the shadows in the room deepening and twisting around him like hungry serpents. “But then he came back, and I realized… I remained a second.” His voice turned bitter, poison seeping into every word.

“Always the second. The second son, then the second love, then your second priority” he said, frowning, tilting his head to one side, his gaze burning with resentment that felt like a knife against her sanity.

A twisted smile curled his lips. “Clearly, I am powerless with the child; that opportunity has passed” he remarked, as if savoring his own despair. “But now, now I am your only love” he declared with satisfaction dripping from his words like blood from his hands. She found herself cornered against the cold, the very walls seeming to close in around her, suffocating her with their oppressive weight. “And I shall not rest until I have the crown on my head” he whispered in a low growl, absorbing the dim light and plunging the room into an abyss of dread. Outside, the storm finally raged.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #ewan mitchell #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader

255 notes · View notes

halfway-happyyy · 3 months ago

Text

another soft journey awaits us, friends.

lately i've been thinking a bit about what the first time frank tells you he needs you in his life looks like. let's explore it together 💖

five am sunlight peeks through a crack in your curtains and casts a brilliant prism of light across your lovers' toned chest. he had pulled himself from you so recently that his sweat still has yet to cool on your skin, and you're amused to find that you miss the all-encompassing fullness of him almost instantly. as you watch the measured rise and fall of his chest, it occurs to you that your relationship with mornings has become much more complicated since he's become a part of your life.

emerging an hour later from the humid warmth of your shower, you're surprised to find frank still in bed. normally, by this time, he'd already be dressed and lacing up his boots to go, never really in the habit of telling you when he'll be back. kind of coming in and out of your realm like a ghost.

"you alright, frank?" you ask.

he shucks the covers off and swings his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly down against the hardwood flooring.

"c'mere kid, there's something i need to tell ya."

his voice, all cut glass and gravel, beckons you forth and you do as you're told. instinctually, your hand travels to his forehead to check if he's ill, but the warmth there is most definitely a by-product of the love he made to you less than an hour before, and not the flu.

your palm moves to caress his stubbled cheek, and he tilts his head to press a kiss to it.

"what is it, frank?"

he swallows hard, gazes up at you and says, "i need you, kid."

it's an entirely different i need you than the one he whispers when he's buried to the hilt inside of you, fingernails carving miniscule half-moon crescents in the soft skin of your hips. this i need you comes from a place entirely different than anything you've ever known.

"you have me, frank." and it's the truth. you take whatever you can get from him when he can give it to you because there is no one on earth that could ever compare to him. you had known from the moment he became a semi-permanent fixture in your life that your dalliance with him was never going to be an easy one. how could it, given how much he had been through?

"you have all of me."

he clears his throat, and it becomes apparent that this is land neither of you have traversed yet.

"look kid, i can't pinpoint when it hit me exactly, but i don't really wanna do this thing without you anymore, and it feels so fucking selfish because of what i do but i just..." his voice trails off. "if you'll have me, i think i've got it in me to give this thing a real shot."

except for the sounds of the city coming to life around you, your room is silent. taking a seat beside him, you reach for his hand, which he offers up without protest.

"'course i'll have you frank."

for now, and despite everything, it's as simple as that.

#soft soft soft #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagines #frank castle drabble #writing #the punisher #daredevil #ddba

132 notes · View notes

kiame-sama · 7 months ago

Text

More drawn monster men

Warnings; Dragon, Shinigami, Unicorn, Caecilia, Naga, Tree Nymph, Kelpie, some spoilers for HAE chapter 8, yandere monsters, yandere behavior,

- Malleus is a Dragon and has a Draconic temper to go with it. Due to his own instincts, he is extremely territorial and openly hostile to anyone who encroaches on that territory without permission. His Hoard is included in that territory and he views all of his Hoard members as a mix between close friends and belongings. He can't help but see his Hoard as belongings due to his inherent proclivity to view others as treasures to be kept and protected. As the Dragon guardian of his Hoard, the job of determining mates for his Hoard falls on his shoulders as well.

- Most in Twisted Wonderland would kill to be a member of a Hoard as it means safety from others and a guarantee of protection from the Dragon. However, most are too afraid of Dragons to approach them directly and thus cannot become Hoard members as it is a decision solely made by the Dragon. Once a Dragon decides a creature is part of their Hoard, there is very little beyond death that can change their status as a member of the Hoard. Dragons don't often steal from another Dragon's Hoard, but it does happen from time to time. Mated Dragons share their Hoards with their mates.

- Dragons are one of the few species of Twisted Wonderland that don't have an age-cap and will continue to live unless killed by an outside factor. This means that a Dragon could live indefinitely. Due to this long life-span, Dragons are able to link their magic and vitality to another living being of Twisted Wonderland to extend their life, this is not a task taken lightly as it does mean that the Dragon is handicapping their own magic by supporting two lives with it and not just their own. The one bonded with the Dragon will share in endless youth where age cannot reap their souls, but they can still be killed by other factors. A Dragon will typically only bind themselves to another if they view that other creature as a life-long mate.

- Dragon scales are immune to most magics and even resistant to most flames, meaning they would make great armor and have uses in magic resistant potions. Malleus saves his shed scales and has considered making a scaled robe for his beloved Human to both protect them and to claim them with his scent. He has run the idea of making a scaled wedding gown for his Human by Lilia and Lilia agrees that it is a wise decision. The scales could offer general shielding and protection from most magics as well as show that visual and scent ownership.

- Papa Hades is well over 6,000 years old and has since lost count over the ages. He has lived many lifetimes and has seen the rise and fall of many civilizations over his long life. He once tried to help the various Kingdoms/Queendoms by offering council and aid, but had since decided to take a backseat to the ongoing march of change. He will render aid if it is requested, but he will no longer offer help or even seek out those who want help. Many a time his words and advice have gone unheeded by those he sought to help and they fell to ruin as a result.

- Papa Hades can- and occasionally will- allow Shinigami unrelated to him to leave Tartarus and seek out a new life in the realm of the living. Very few have been granted this right as Shinigami can be quite dangerous to common folk given their affinity towards death. Few creatures are considered living in Tartarus and even fewer have traversed the realm of the living for any reason. Most creatures native to Tartarus stay in Tartarus excepting the few that Papa Hades has allowed to move between the realms.

- Papa Hades had one lover when he was younger, she has since gone feral ages ago, kept in containment until she had to be put down after she attacked Ortho in blinded rage. Hades does miss her and knows most Shinigami do not have souls the same way those outside of Tartarus do, so he will not see her again even in death. Hades is one of the few Shinigami considered the living-dead as he is from Tartarus but has spent enough time among the living to be considered 'alive' and is in part why he is able to move among the land of the living and dead.

- Papa Hades does not want to go back to Tartarus and is keen to keep as many of his descendants alive and with him. They were born in the land of the living and not Tartarus, he feels they don't belong there anymore. Some of his descendants have willingly gone to Tartarus permanently and they tend to the Shinigami that were born in Tartarus.

- Overblotted Riddle wields a Headsman's Axe as his bound weapon and will attempt to behead those who oppose him. In his mind, his word is law and any who disobey him are breaking the law, so they must be punished. He is ruled by instinct which demands he protects the one he loves above all others, going as far as to isolate and kidnap if needed.

- Riddle's fangs that grew when he Overblotted actually ripped open his mouth at the corners and he still has scars around the corners of his mouth after the Overblot. He also cracked his horn so it had to be filed down past the crack otherwise it could potentially break his entire horn which will result in death for a Unicorn.

- Riddle's fur is still somewhat stained by the inky after effects of the Overblot and his golden hooves have lost some of their shine due to the overblot. They will eventually return to normal but he is still plagued by inky tasting coughing fits and oily fur until it works its way out of his system.

- Riddle has anxiety about losing control again because of what he did to the Human when he lost control the first time. Riddle's yandere tendencies took control of him and forced him into an Overblot, he worries that any direct rejection from the Human will result in the same.

- Azul can taste with his tentacles and as such, doesn't often use them to wrap up those he is angry with. He will wrap up those he feels romantic emotions towards because he does want to take in their natural taste. This means he will almost unconsciously grab the Human with his tentacles should they get close to him while he is in his full Cecaelia form. It embarrasses him to no end with how grabby his tentacles are especially with the Human.

- Azul has a large Octopus pot in Octavinelle which is for his (and the regular octopus') use only. He will often pout in the octopus pot and refuse to come out until either Jade or Floyd go and get him out of the pot. When he decides to pout in the sulking pot, the twins will typically let him stay there for a few hours before they go to get him. He still has duties to take care of in the Monstro Lounge, but he will forgo those duties to sulk in the pot when he is in a bad mood.

- Azul is much like a regular octopus in the fact he has three hearts and blue blood. His tentacles can mostly squeeze into small spaces due to the lack of bones in them. He is also venomous and his venom has mild paralytic properties that tend to incapacitate in high doses or cause a euphoric-like state in low doses. He also has an ink sack he can eject ink out of when startled or in distress, Floyd has a deal with Azul specifically to stop the eel from making the octopus ink in surprise.

- Azul writes extensive romances primarily to do with Humans. He has been long obsessed with the idea of Humans and has romanticized Humanity as a whole. Him meeting a Human has only made him write even more Human related romances and smut due to the fact he is just so in love with the species. Many merfolk viewed Humans as peak beauty and Azul is no different. The Human is absolutely gorgeous in his eyes and he can't help but be completely enamored with them in every way.

- Jamil is a creature that prefers the warmth of sun-baked sands over the cold of winter's touch, so he does not like it when winter rolls around. Often- especially in cold weather- Jamil will find sources of heat (larger students, heaters, sunny areas) to rest his snake half as it does get cold easily or it takes a lot of food consumption to keep that half warm. Nagas are technically warm-blooded, but can act like their cold-blooded snake counterparts in winter and can enter brumation. Jamil refuses to enter brumation because he is busy looking after Kalim and stresses about what may happen while he sleeps.

- Jamil sheds his snake skin and any patches where he has scales. He does not have eye-caps or shed them due to being able to blink and having a regular eyelid. When he sheds, his colors are much more bright and vibrant to look at and he often will show off his scales following a shed. He is especially interested in the Human looking at his scales after a shed because they have an iridescent quality to them following sheds. He is extremely proud of this shine and even Vil envies the freshly shed scales.

- Jamil is Kalim's life-long guard and will remain a guard for Kalim unless he manages to win over the Human and rise above his station. If he does not win over the Human as a mate, he will be stuck in the service of Kalim eternally until his death in which another of the Viper family will take his place. His life expectancy is shorter than Kalim's but Kalim is more likely to be killed as member of the Al-Asim family before Jamil dies of natural causes. He is expected to give his life in the service of Kalim. He resents this deeply.

- Jamil can cook and knows how to cook due to being the primary chef for Kalim. He is very fond of spices as he has a much higher tollerance for them due to being a Naga. Regular snakes cannot taste or register spice, but Nagas are capable of tasting spice if there is a lot in their food. Kalim likes spicy foods and this works just fine for Jamil, the rest of Scarabia (some of whom are not as resistant to spices) avoid Jamil's cooking as a result, no matter how good it smells.

- Epel eats food like a regular blooded creature of Twisted Wonderland, but he gets more nutrients from specific plant matter and high-fat meats. He is less interested in fruits and tends to like meats and vegetables more due to the higher nutrient value. He can easily eat and digest rotting things but avoids them because they have an odd taste to them.

- Epel flowers year round and will always have several flowers atop his head. These flowers often attract bees, who tend to have symbiotic relationships with plant/earth Nymphs. Epel is quite fond of bees and- with Vil's suggestion- takes care of an apiary of bees in Pomefiore. This honey is often utilized by the other students and Vil, but only Epel can get close without being stung due to his standing positive relationship with the bees. Epel can produce apple fruits (seedless) in Autumn and early winter.

- Most plant/earth Nymphs can winter over if they manage to get their roots deep enough and enter a state like hibernation to wait out the scarce months of winter. Epel is a winter hardy species of apple tree Nymph and so he doesn't feel the need to winter over like many others do. Despite being a hardy species, he will occasionally go to the greenhouse to bask in the tropical temperatures.

- Epel has marks along his skin- which is barklike and rough- usually due to fights he has gotten into and the bark-like skin has had to heal around the injury. Most would injure themselves trying to fight him due to his naturally dense body, but sometimes he will meet his match in unexpected places, such as his scrap with Vil who beat him soundly and without using magic.

- Trey has a Water form and a land form due to being a Kelpie. His land form makes him look like a regular Centaur as he just appears to be a white horse with a pale green mane and tail. He cannot see very well out of the water as his eyes were made to be used underwater, hence his need for glasses when he is in his land form. On land, Trey has the body-type of a Scottish Draft-horse and is over 9ft (274in) standing on flat ground.

- In his aquatic form, Trey's back legs turn into a large fin and is made of pure muscle. He can easily concuss or kill others if he whips them with his tail-fin. His white fur turns green and his mane/tail take a more kelp-like appearance. He grows several fins and his fingers become webbed so he can move easier in the water, allowing for a rather quick locomotion when submerged. His skin takes on several green tints and even crates a light striping along his neck and face due to this green coloration. Cater can often be found laying on Trey's back when he is in his aquatic form and the two often swim together in the Heartslabyul lake.

- Trey is a Kelpie, so his primary diet is meat. When he was young, he would often catch his own meals and got in trouble a few times for snatching goats that wandered too close to his preferred hunting grounds. As an adult, Trey will still occasionally grab wandering deer or other larger creatures that get near his lake and will snack on them without cooking them. He often eats his prey raw, but has developed a love for cooked meats thanks to the Human. Trey has even caught a few students from time to time in the Heartslabyul lake. He always releases the students, but he does think scaring the daylights out of them is funny when he does catch them.

- Trey's bonded weapon is a claymore which he often keeps on him at all times. Just because there are more sentient species doesn't mean the world is any safer for anyone. He is very skilled with the claymore and has the upper body strength needed to wield such a large and heavy weapon with ease.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #humans are extinct twst au

118 notes · View notes

demonvibez · 1 year ago

Text

A/N: I haven't actually played lesson 40 yet, but I've seen a ton of spoilers, and they made me emo af XD so I quick wrote this to get my thoughts out ~ may not be canonically accurate lol

You suddenly appear back in the House of Lamentation, slightly bewildered after the effects of the portal - you're in your room again, and everything is exactly where you left it. Your eyebrows furrow for a moment before you shake your head, disbelief filling your mind as you process your surroundings. You question to yourself if you're really back, is this really your timeline? From what you can infer, it would appear so - everything in the room lines up with your memories. But how long were you gone? How long before your demons started to frenzy, turning over every stone in the realm until they find you?

But you're back now.

Surely, they missed you. Surely, they've been attacked with grief and turmoil as you've spent months traversing through the past, doing your best to heal them as you mask your own weaknesses, your own fears, your own anxieties. Doing your best to get back to them. It feels like you have been gone a lifetime, and surely they've felt that, too.

Except, when you push open the doors of the House Library, and announce your return, you can't help but to feel a certain way at their lackluster responses.

Ah yes, time travel.

You're glad to have your demons back - and part of you is glad to hear that they have missed you without knowing why. But at this moment, it all hits you. At this moment, everything you have compartmentalized has come busting forth in your brain - all of the trials and tribulations of going back into the past has caught up with you.

You went through so much - and it wasn't their fault.

But it does throw you for a loop when you finally return home to your demons, but they never noticed you left.

To them, it was a night of sleep; to you, it was months of trying to prove yourself...

And that bothers you.

It's not your fault. It's not their fault, either.

But the idea unsettles you nonetheless...

· demonvibez ♡ 2024 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

414 notes · View notes

edenesth · 1 year ago

Text

Midnight Fiction

Pairing: Wooyoung x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 10.4k

Summary: One restless night, craving an escape from reality, you and Wooyoung lose yourselves to the captivating realms of your favourite fantasy worlds. Together, you traverse through the wonder of Narnia, the magic of Middle-earth, and the enchantment of Hogwarts.

A/N: Just a random little self-indulgent oneshot inspired by ILLIT's Midnight Fiction, song's been on repeat for me. These images have been flashing through my mind whenever I listen to it, so I'm taking this chance to experiment with writing The Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter AUs.

ATEEZ Masterlist

Don't you just hate it when you're caught in that limbo of feeling too cold without a blanket and too hot with one? Don't you just hate it when you lie in bed for what feels like an eternity, teetering on the edge of slumber, only to snap awake again? Don't you just hate when your room begins to feel stifling from restlessness, leaving you searching for that elusive perfect spot on your bed?

Don't you just hate it when it feels like the whole world is asleep while you're wide awake? You do, don't you?

Fortunately for you, tonight, you weren't alone in this plight. The person lying beside you, your best friend, your soulmate, your better half—your everything—seemed to be stuck in the same predicament.

"Trouble sleeping, love?"

In an instant, the weight lifted as you turned to gaze at the love of your life, awake beside you. "Yes, Woo, but at least I'm not alone," you whispered, smiling. He smiled back, extending an arm towards you in invitation. You pouted, your heart brimming with affection for this man, and immediately shifted into his welcoming embrace, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

He sighed contentedly, tightening his hold around you, and peppering your face with tender kisses. "Perhaps sleep isn't on the agenda tonight. What do you say we find another way to pass the time?" His playful grin met your curious gaze.

You chuckled softly. "And what mischief do you have in store, my dearest Mr. Jung?"

With a playful boop to your nose, he grinned. "Would you care to embark on an adventure with me, my lady? Somewhere far from this suffocating room, perhaps?"

Bursting into a fit of giggles at his playful imitation of old-fashioned speech, you leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling back, you played along, "Oh, you present such an irresistible offer. How could I possibly refuse, my lord?"

He bit his lip, feeling his heart melt at how swiftly you caught on. Wooyoung had always been an exuberant individual, often overwhelming others with his energy and antics, but never with you. You were the sole person in the world who truly understood him. You shared the same interests and personalities, the only disparity being that you were a slightly calmer version of him.

If soulmates existed, he was certain you were at the other end of the red strings of fate binding him to you. You had to be.

Pressing his lips to yours once more, relishing the closeness, he pulled back slightly to catch his breath. "Well, come on then, love. Let's not waste any time. Adventure awaits us."

You squealed in delight as he leapt out of bed, swiftly yanking the sheets off you and exposing you to the cool air. With a playful tug on your leg, he pulled you into his arms as you steadied yourself against his chest, adjusting to the sudden movement after hours of lying still.

"I hope you're ready, my lady."

"You bet your ass I am, sire. Let's do this!"

"Seriously, Woo? This is the adventure you were referring to? A place far from our suffocating bedroom?" you asked incredulously as he swung open the doors to his absurdly large wardrobe in the spare room of your shared apartment. It was where your boyfriend housed his prized collection of branded apparel, insisting on keeping them separate from his everyday wear.

He flashed you a cheeky grin, flicking on the torchlight he'd brought with him and shining it upwards towards his face in the classic fashion of someone about to tell ghost stories. "Oh, come on, this could be fun. It'll be like seven minutes in heaven."

You snorted at his suggestion, watching as he crawled into the space, carefully shifting aside his hanging clothes. Crossing your arms teasingly, you quipped, "With a whole apartment at our disposal, why do we need to squeeze into a tiny space for some fun?"

Once settled inside, he extended a hand to you. "Don't pretend you're not thrilled about this. I see right through you. Come on, love," he urged, and your façade melted away like chocolate. With a grin as childlike as his, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to draw you into the cramped space.

Amidst endless giggles, you squeezed your way in beside him. When he finally managed to shut the doors, you turned to him eagerly. "Okay, so what now?"

"Now, let the magic begin," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss. You sighed contentedly, running a hand through his hair as you kissed him back. But before the romantic moment could fully unfold, true to his nature, Wooyoung reached around your waist and began to tickle you. You shrieked, pulling away to playfully slap him. "S-stop it, you menace! I sh-should've known!"

As you tried to push him away from you, you found yourself instinctively scooting back. But instead of feeling the familiar barrier of the wardrobe's end, you noticed an unusual expanse of space behind you. "W-wait, Woo! S-something's not right—" Before you could finish your sentence, a loud gasp escaped you as you felt a cold touch on your back.

What in the world.

Finally, your boyfriend ceased his actions, freezing in his spot with wide eyes. Following his gaze, you turned your head and felt your breath hitch at the unbelievable sight of a winter wonderland before your eyes.

Swiftly, he rolled off you and helped you up to your feet, clad in bedroom slippers, both of you taking tentative steps into the snow. Your gazes met in wide-eyed astonishment as the chill of this new world immediately embraced you. "Woo, could we be in...?" you began, while he hurriedly threw on an expensive coat before draping another snugly over your shoulders.

Ensuring you were sufficiently warm, he reached for your hand and led you forward. "Only one way to find out."

Your hearts raced as you ventured deeper into the breathtaking snow-covered forest. Glancing back, you felt relief upon seeing the back of Wooyoung's wardrobe still there. As he squeezed your hand, you followed his gaze, and your face lit up with recognition as you approached the lamppost before you.

Locking eyes with each other, you whispered in unison, "Narnia."

Squealing with excitement, the two of you began to jump around. Your boyfriend started rambling, "Oh my god, do you think we'll get to meet Mr. Tumnus? Or maybe Mr. and Mrs. Beaver?"

You laughed and shook your head. "I don't know, but I really hope I get to see King Edmund, at least... or even Prince Caspian, if we're that far in the story already."

He scoffed. "Of course, you'd want to."

You playfully smacked his arm. "Hey! Don't pretend you're not also dying to meet the gorgeous High Queen Susan!"

Feeling a presence, you both turned to find a very unexpected character greeting you upon arrival. Standing before you in all his glory was Aslan, The Great Lion, the creator and one true king of the world of Narnia. Your boyfriend stilled, then pulled you down onto your knees beside him. "It's an honour to meet you, sir. I'm Wooyoung, son of Adam," he said, introducing himself, before introducing you as a daughter of Eve.

Aslan nodded in acknowledgement. "Welcome to Narnia; we have been expecting you," he began, catching you off guard.

"You have...?" you asked in disbelief.

The lion confirmed, "Yes, you are both here to fulfil the Golden Age prophecy."

Wooyoung sputtered, "W-we are...? Isn't the prophecy about two boys and two girls, with your help, ending the evil witch's rule?"

Aslan clarified, "That is correct, but you've left out one final thing; it includes two seers who can tell the future. With your help, we will defeat Jadis without a problem."

At that, you and your boyfriend exchanged a knowing smile. Of course, you were both the seers; you already knew how the story goes. Armed with this knowledge, you were equipped to guide them through their quest to defeat the White Witch even more seamlessly than before.

With a graceful motion, the lion lowered himself to the ground. "Now, if you'll both get on my back, we'll head back to the camp where everyone is preparing for battle." Excitement surged through you both, and without hesitation, you climbed aboard. As the journey commenced, you marvelled at the breathtaking scenery around you. With each passing moment, you noticed the snow melting away, a clear sign of Jadis' spell fading and the return of goodness, heralding Aslan's triumphant return.

As you and your boyfriend rode on the lion's back, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you both. It was surreal to realise that you were actually in the magical land you had both fantasised about since childhood. The realisation dawned on you that this wasn't just a dream—it was happening, right now.

Feelings of excitement, wonder, and disbelief mingled within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. But typical Wooyoung being Wooyoung, he couldn't resist his mischievous nature. Sitting behind you, he tightened his hold on your waist and whispered in your ear, "How do you think he'd react if we told him he's fictional?" Your jaws dropped, and you shot him a glare, elbowing him in the gut and causing him to groan. "Now, why would you do that?"

But it didn't take long before you both burst into giggles. Despite his knack for mischief, you couldn't help but be grateful for his presence. You couldn't envision exploring the magical world of Narnia with anyone else but Jung Wooyoung by your side.

As you reached the camp, embarrassment flooded you as all the creatures—centaurs, fauns, and more—stared at you and Wooyoung in your mismatched attire. You couldn't help but feel awkward in your pyjamas paired with your boyfriend's branded coat and bedroom slippers. Before you could dwell on it, everyone began kneeling in greeting as you passed by.

"Welcome, seers of Narnia," greeted the voices in unison as you arrived at the main tent where the four Pevensie siblings stood waiting, your hearts pounded with excitement and nerves. Here you were, finally meeting your childhood crushes. Clumsily, you introduced yourselves before watching the crowd disperse.

Blushing under Peter and Edmund's curious gazes, you were relieved when Susan stepped forward with a chuckle. "Come on, both of you. Let's get you into some proper clothes. We know how it feels; we've been in your shoes on our first day here," she reassured. Wooyoung chuckled in agreement, "Yeah, we know that."

Lucy's eyes widened in awe. "Of course, you're the seers. You must know everything. Tell us, how does it all work?"

Blinking rapidly with pursed lips, you and your boyfriend struggled to find a suitable response. After all, revealing that your knowledge came from books or movies wouldn't be appropriate. Breaking the fourth wall so easily could spoil the adventure and make you both seem uncool. It was best to keep the magic alive, even if it meant inventing some details on the spot.

"Uh, well... it's, uh, complicated," your boyfriend stammered, his mind scrambling for a creative explanation.

Peter cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with his youngest sister. "Not now, Lucy. They must be overwhelmed. We should let them get changed and settle down first."

Nodding in agreement, Edmund gestured to a smaller tent beside Aslan's. "Right this way, please. We've prepared your outfits."

You had to suppress a squeal; the brothers were even more attractive in person. Though this version of King Edmund was still a child and not the king you admired in the later movies, it was still him, and you couldn't help feeling bashful. As if to remind you of who you truly belonged to, Wooyoung slid his arm around your waist. "Come on, love. Let's get changed." It was then that all four siblings realised that unlike them, you were lovers.

Emerging from the tent with Susan and Lucy's help, you felt slightly awkward in the medieval-styled gown, uncertain how to manage its intricate design. Meanwhile, your boyfriend had finished much sooner, dressed in a simple outfit of pants and a tunic. His lively voice echoed from inside the tent as you dressed, likely engaging poor Peter and Edmund with his talkative nature.

As you stepped out, his voice trailed off as he took in the sight of you in the purple gown with your hair braided halfway and the rest left down. Though not extravagant, you knew he found it beautiful; his stunned expression told you that much.

Susan giggled at his reaction, while you blushed slightly. "Shall we have something to eat, and break the ice before we begin our training?" she suggested.

You raised a brow. "Training?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, preparations for the battle against the White Witch's army. I know you're both here as our seers, but it's wise to be ready to defend yourselves too."

Wooyoung nodded in understanding. "Right, well, we'll accept the food then. We'll need our strength for training."

Gathered around a small table on the field, you shared a simple meal, just enough to provide energy for training. Keeping a straight face was a challenge as your boyfriend animatedly spun a tale for the Pevensie siblings about how you both received visions of the future.

"Yeah, it's not something we control. Sometimes it comes in dreams, other times as random visions. It's tricky... a gift and a curse, really," he elaborated.

Struggling to suppress your amusement, you watched as the siblings listened in awe. Concealing your laughter behind a cough, you nudged Wooyoung in the side, giving him a glare and mouthing, "Enough!"

The mood turned serious as Lucy nervously inquired, "Have you seen how this will all end? Will we triumph over the evil witch?" You were aware of the obstacles lying ahead, including Aslan's sacrifice to save Edmund for his earlier betrayal, and the battle feeling like a lost cause. Despite these daunting prospects, you knew you had to offer reassurance to keep their spirits up.

Taking this as your cue to speak, you smiled and nodded at the youngest Pevensie sibling. "Yes, little one. You—no, we—will emerge victorious. The path to victory may be fraught with challenges, but we'll be here to help you every step of the way."

After the meal, the guys geared up to train their sword skills, while the girls prepared for archery practice. Just before joining the guys, Wooyoung pulled you close.

"Have I told you how much I adore the way you talk to children, love?" he whispered.

You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. "Now's not the time for this, Woo; they're waiting for us."

He grinned at the pink blush on your cheeks. "Fine, I'll go if you want me to so badly. By the way, you look beautiful," he whispered, planting a kiss on your cheek before darting off to join Peter and Edmund.

Turning around, you noticed Susan and Lucy snickering after witnessing the exchange, and you couldn't help but bite your lip bashfully. "Come. Off to training, we go."

After hours of practice, you discovered a potential talent in archery. Susan raised an impressed brow. "Huh, you seem quite skilled at this. We were worried for nothing; you'll do just fine on the battlefield."

You beamed. "I sure hope so."

As the girls continued their drills, your gaze kept drifting to the guys training across the river. Despite the presence of the handsome High King Peter and King Edmund, your attention remained fixed on your silly boyfriend who was earnestly attempting to wield his sword. He looked comical, but that was part of his charm.

"You're in love," Lucy's voice snapped you out of your reverie. Flustered, you nodded. "Why yes, little one. I am in love."

Susan smiled, joining the conversation. "So is he. You two look perfect together. Say, how did you meet?"

Your mind flashed back to your first encounter with Wooyoung. He had been at the next table when you were stood up by a blind date, rambling away loudly with a friend. Annoyed, you turned to him, asking, "Will you please lower your voice?! Not everyone is interested in your opinion on love at first sight!" Ironically, that was how he claimed to have fallen in love with you.

Chuckling at the memory, you decided not to share the full story with the girls. Given the temporal gap between your world and theirs, you reckoned they might not grasp the nuances of your relationship with Wooyoung. Instead, you offered a simplified version of how you met, emphasising the humour in the situation. They laughed with you, and soon the conversation shifted back to practice.

As the story progressed, you and your boyfriend grew closer to the Pevensie siblings, guiding them through every challenge just like rewatching the movie. Together, you avoided certain pitfalls and reassured them that everything would turn out well in the end.

On the night before the decisive battle, you would leave to stay with the girls to witness Aslan's sacrifice for Edmund. Wooyoung held you close, knowing that the next time you saw each other would be on the battlefield the following day. "Be careful, love," he whispered, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, returning the sentiment. "You too, Woo. You remember how the battle goes, right? Stick by Edmund's side and ensure Jadis doesn't harm him. Or better yet, get him out of that area. Just don't let her get the chance to stab him."

He grinned confidently. "You worry too much. I'll protect your precious King Edmund, don't you worry about a thing."

You scoffed, slapping him lightly. "I have to go now. I'll see you."

He couldn't resist capturing your lips in a loving kiss before letting you go. "Go, the girls need you," he urged softly.

As Susan and Lucy wept on your shoulders after witnessing Aslan's sacrifice, you held them tightly, offering whatever comfort you could. With tears clouding her voice, the younger sibling questioned, "How can things still be okay after this? He's gone... How can we possibly win the war without him?"

Gently stroking her tear-stained cheeks, you reassured her, "Trust me, he knows what he's doing. This will all work out in our favour. Just you wait and see, little one."

Susan regarded you with her typical scepticism. "Are you sure?"

Your nod was firm. "Absolutely."

Quietly, you watched as they clung to the lion after the enemies dispersed to prepare for battle. As dawn approached, you motioned for them to join you. "It's almost time. Come."

With furrowed brows, they approached cautiously. "Time for what...?"

Your smile was knowing as the ground trembled and the Stone Table shattered, leaving behind only a vacant space where Aslan had been. "For this," you declared, pointing to the now-empty surface.

Their eyes widened in disbelief as Aslan reappeared before them, alive and well. You watched with a sense of satisfaction as he explained his strategy, how he had fooled the White Witch.

Eager to reunite with your lover, you interjected, "Well, let's not waste any more time. We still have one final task: freeing our friends still trapped in Jadis' Castle."

Aslan nodded in agreement. "You're right, seer. We must act swiftly."

After rescuing Mr. Tumnus and the others, you hurried to the battlefield. Upon arrival, Aslan let out a loud roar as if to announce his presence. Spotting Peter engaged in a sword fight with the White Witch, you frantically scanned the area for the second youngest Pevensie and Wooyoung.

Time seemed to slow as the lion leapt down to save the high king from Jadis before ultimately defeating her. Alongside the girls, you raced down the hill to join them. Sharing Susan's concerned expression, you asked, "Where's Edmund and my—"

Peter noticed your worry, eyes rounding in realisation as he dashed off in a direction, with the rest of you following. Arriving just in time, you witnessed Ginarrbrik, the witch's manservant, poised to strike what appeared to be Edmund kneeling beside a fallen figure. Susan swiftly shot the dwarf down with an arrow, prompting you to rush forward.

To your horror, instead of finding the injured king as in the story, it was Wooyoung lying there, clutching his abdomen. Edmund explained, "I'm sorry. I should've listened to him when he told me to run. He shielded me when the witch attacked."

Turning to the youngest, you urgently requested, "Lucy! The cordial from Father Christmas, please!" She handed it over, and you watched anxiously as Wooyoung swallowed a drop. Slowly, colour returned to his face, and he opened his eyes. "Hey, love."

Tears of relief and anger filled your eyes as you hugged him tightly. "Don't 'hey' me! You scared me half to death, you idiot!"

He chuckled and hugged you back. "I thought you were more worried about him. But I saved him, didn't I?"

You tightened your grip on him. "Yes, but not like this, Jung Wooyoung."

"Must you really leave?" Queen Lucy's voice carried a hint of sadness as you and your boyfriend prepared to depart after the royal coronation. You struggled with how to explain to her that your departure signalled the end of this chapter of the story, though you dared not utter those words outright.

Seeing her crestfallen expression, clearly still reeling from Aslan's departure, made it even harder to say goodbye. You offered her a comforting smile and gently patted her head. "I'm sorry, Lu. But we really must go. Our journey isn't over yet."

"But where will you go?" the child's voice quivered with uncertainty.

Your boyfriend's grin was reassuring. "Ah, that's our secret. But rest assured, we won't forget you or the adventures we've shared."

After bidding farewell to all the characters from the first instalment of The Chronicles of Narnia, you and Wooyoung returned to the exact spot where you had entered the world. Hand in hand, your steps slowed as you approached the familiar lamppost that had greeted you upon your arrival.

"So, how was that for an adventure?" Wooyoung asked, breaking the silence as he pulled you close to him.

You melted into his embrace, a smile spreading across your face. "It was amazing."

He smirked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Really? But you didn't even get to steal King Edmund's heart."

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Oh, stop it, you!"

He chuckled, his tone turning slightly more serious. "I guess it was fun being new characters in a story. But wouldn't it be nice to live the main characters' lives instead?"

You gently pulled away, taking his hand and leading him back towards his wardrobe. "I suppose it would be, Woo. Let's go."

Be careful what you wish for; that adage couldn't have been more accurate. As you ventured through the wardrobe with your boyfriend trailing behind, your eyes widened in astonishment when you emerged into a scene completely unlike your shared apartment. Taking in the surroundings, you recognised the breathtaking interior of Rivendell, or Imladris in Elven-Tongue, a place you had always dreamed of from the Lord of the Rings.

"Woo?" you called out, but he wasn't there.

Instead, you found yourself face to face with a mirror, and you gasped at your reflection. You recognised the Elvish features, reaching up to touch your pointed ears and the long hair cascading below your waist. The elegant gown confirmed your suspicions: you were Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar. But if you were Arwen, then that would mean your boyfriend was the Ranger of the North.

That fool... he jinxed it.

Unlike in Narnia, you weren't a new character here. Suddenly, you were hit with a surge of sorrow, as if you were experiencing Arwen's emotions firsthand. Her father's disapproval of her love for Aragorn, a mortal, echoed within you, reminding you of the struggles you faced with your own parents. The memories flooded in, replacing those of Arwen and Aragorn with moments between you and Wooyoung, making the situation feel eerily real. It brought back the times when your parents had opposed your relationship, insisting you deserved someone better.

You immediately realised the part of the story you were in. The War of the Ring raged on, and evil spread throughout Middle-earth. Your father, Lord Elrond, had been urging you to depart for the Undying Lands, a place of safety far from the conflict. However, the thought of leaving your lover, who was on a quest to fight evil and protect Frodo, the Ring-bearer, filled you with reluctance.

Just like in the story, you faced the dilemma of choosing between your immortal heritage and your love for a mortal. The parallels between your situation and that of Arwen and Aragorn were striking, and it sent shivers down your spine. You knew how it went in the tale; she eventually gave up her immortality to be with him. It was almost uncanny how similar it was to your reality, where you had fought fiercely to be with Wooyoung despite your parents' objections, which left you currently with a strained relationship with them.

Standing in the familiar area filled you with a sense of dread. This was the moment where Aragorn would soon depart for battle, and where he would tell Arwen to leave for the Undying Lands for her own good. But now, with Wooyoung by your side, you knew things would be different.

Despite the eerie familiarity of the scene, you felt a newfound determination. As if guided by some unseen force, you approached the spot where Aragorn and Arwen would have their fateful conversation. This time, though, you were ready to make a different choice.

As you approached Wooyoung, your heart raced with fear and urgency. "Woo! Why didn't you come to find me? Were you really going to leave like he did?" The dread you felt wasn't just Arwen's; it was yours too. You realised this when he let out a deep breath and met your gaze with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine.

"You know, maybe your parents had a point," he began, his words cutting through the air. "You are their daughter after all, and that will never change. I'm just another guy you're dating, and guys come and go. Perhaps it's not so rational for you to ruin your relationship with your parents just for an outsider like me. Besides, maybe you do deserve someone much better."

Your heart sank as his words washed over you, and you frowned in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?! We both know what Elrond said to Aragorn right before this scene. Don't tell me that silly little talk really had you doubting our reality?"

He sighed heavily, his expression pained. "But is he wrong, though? Maybe Arwen was a fool for staying... In the end, Aragorn dies of old age anyway, and she continues to live on in sorrow. What if our reality isn't that far off? Maybe it'll only end in pain?"

His words pierced your heart like a dagger, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. The weight of his doubts and uncertainties pressed down on you, threatening to suffocate you. But deep down, you knew that despite the risks and the potential for pain, your love for him was worth fighting for.

Gathering yourself, you took a deep breath to steady your thoughts before speaking. "I understand you might be influenced by Aragorn's feelings, just as I am by Arwen's. But deep down, I know you don't truly mean what you're saying. Regardless, we both know how this story unfolds in the end. If you must go, then go. I'll see you soon. Have fun beating up the bad guys, Woo."

A hush fell between you both as he absorbed your words, his tough exterior crumbling. Regret clouded his features as he stepped closer, reaching for your hands. "Wait, you're right. I... I must have been too swept up in Aragorn's emotions. I'm so sorry, love."

You smiled, gently cupping his face. "You said it yourself, how nice it would be to live the lives of the main characters. Look at how it turned out, huh?" you teased, and he flushed with embarrassment. "God, I'm such an idiot."

You smirked. "You always have been."

He grinned. "Well, now that we're the main characters, perhaps we can reshape the story and make it our own. You've always dreamed of being in Rivendell. Let's use this opportunity to explore the place."

You scoffed, though a spark of excitement ignited within you at his suggestion. "But don't you have to leave for battle?"

He rolled his eyes. "Gurl, Sauron and his army of clowns can wait. Now, come on."

Hand intertwined with his, you dashed through the exquisite halls of Elrond's house. Your heart soared as you absorbed the surreal surroundings, the sight of Wooyoung's reassuring presence ahead of you filling you with joy. This was the very scenario you had dreamt of for so long – being in this fantastical place with the one you loved.

Your steps faltered as you reached what seemed to be the area where the Council of Elrond took place, where the Fellowship of the Ring was first formed.

"We're actually here, holy crap," Wooyoung muttered in amazement.

You couldn't help but giggle. "Is that cooler than the fact that you're Aragorn? Speaking of which, I'm so envious of you."

He raised a brow. "For what? You get to hang around here and look so beautiful all the time while I go out and fight evil."

You nodded. "Yeah, but you get to be with Legolas all the time."

He snorted in disbelief. "Unbelievable... I'm never letting you near him. First, King Edmund, and now the blonde elf."

You pouted. "Pfft, it's not like there's ever been anything between Arwen and Legolas. You have nothing to worry about. Plus, you'll have Éowyn falling at your feet later on. Let's hope you still remember me by then."

He sputtered at that. "In case you forgot, she got rejected anyway."

You scoffed. "Yes, but that was Aragorn. The same can't be said for you."

His jaw dropped. "What—hey! You're the only one for me, no matter the universe!" he insisted as you continued walking, grinning in satisfaction for catching him off guard as you moved on to the next location.

"Ah, this is where that iconic scene took place," your boyfriend remarked as you stepped onto the moonlit bridge, reminiscent of the moment when Arwen handed her necklace, the Evenstar, to Aragorn. It symbolises her love and defiance against her father, signifying her choice to give up her immortality to be with him.

Standing in the same spot as the characters in the movie, you watched as he retrieved the jewellery from his pocket. "Come, my lady. Would you like to recreate that scene?" he asked playfully, holding out the pendant.

Meeting his gaze, you took a deep breath before reciting your favourite line, "I would rather share one lifetime with you... than face all the ages of the world alone."

At that moment, the playfulness faded from his expression, and he sensed a deeper meaning behind your words, a reflection of your genuine emotions toward each other. Recalling a past conversation where you admitted that without him, you might have chosen not to love at all, he was deeply moved. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to yours, conveying his affection. Pulling back slightly, he grinned, "That has to be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me. Can you say that to me every once in a while?"

You chuckled, giving him a playful smack on the chest. "If that's what it takes to stop you from annoying me, then yes."

"Hey!" he protested, chasing after you as you ran off to explore other areas of Rivendell.

As you wandered, you recognised the next destination instantly—it was where Aragorn dreamed of his time with Arwen. With a grin, Wooyoung sauntered over and lay down on the futon, attempting to recreate the scene once again. You stood where the she-elf had stood, watching him pretend to wake up.

"I am asleep. This is a dream," he recited Aragorn's words, and you burst into a small giggle. Settling down beside him, you recited Arwen's line, "Then it is a good dream. Sleep," before leaning down to kiss him as she had.

Deep down, you both wished to stay in this fantasy forever, but you knew you had to part for the story to progress. He sighed as you pulled away. "As much as I'd love to keep staying here with you, the war isn't going to win itself. I'll see you at the end of the story."

You nodded, kissing him again. "See you, Woo." He winked as he got up from his spot. "Don't worry, I won't spare Éowyn a glance."

Laughing, you waved as you watched him go.

You anticipated what was to come next, knowing that it was the day when most of the elves in Rivendell would depart for Valinor, the Undying Lands. It was the moment when Elrond would once again attempt to persuade Arwen to go with them.

As you lay on the futon in your room, watching the white curtains flutter gently in the breeze, you prepared yourself for the inevitable. Just as your thoughts turned to your boyfriend, your father entered, speaking in Sindarin, the Elven language. Remarkably, you comprehended every word.

"It is time. The ships are departing for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late."

Oh boy, here we go.

You immediately sat up from your position to respond, "I have already made my choice." Elrond took a step closer to you. "He is not coming back. Why do you linger here when there is no hope?" You gazed up at him, overwhelmed by the emotions flowing through your being that were Arwen's, as you answered, "There is still hope."

Because you knew there was.

As he continued his monologue, which you had already heard more than once and knew was coming, it still hurt. His words reminded you that no matter what, choosing to be with Aragorn—or in your case, Wooyoung—would only lead to pain. Tears streamed down your cheeks, his words echoing the sentiments you had heard from your parents when they desperately tried to separate you and your boyfriend, telling you he could not offer you much and that you would only end up regretting your decision.

"There is nothing for you here. Only death," he uttered, and your heart broke despite expecting those words. The words sounded eerily familiar to what you had heard in a different context, where Wooyoung would not be able to bring you everlasting happiness and his perceived incompetence would eventually disappoint you.

No, that's not true...

But you felt a new emotion when Elrond sat down beside you, looking down at you with so much pain in his eyes. You could see he was not ready to lose his daughter. It must have been cruel for him that his daughter was choosing to die and leave his side.

He wiped your tears away gently. "Do I not also have your love?"

For once, you empathised with his feelings and wondered if this was how your parents felt. You used to view Elrond as the bad guy for constantly trying to separate his daughter from the man she loved. Were your parents also like him? Were they afraid of losing you? Maybe they just didn't know your boyfriend well enough and didn't trust him yet to take care of you. You felt yourself crumbling under the weight of these thoughts.

"You have my love, father," you cried as he enveloped you in his arms. Perhaps you were a bad daughter, not for choosing to be with Wooyoung, but for failing to help your parents understand why you chose him.

If you couldn't ease your parents' worries in reality, perhaps you could do it here for your fictional father. You were certain Wooyoung would understand; none of this was real anyway. He was still yours, and you would always be his. Maybe, just maybe here, you could be a good daughter to Elrond.

Joining the rest of the elves and making your way towards the ship to Valinor, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty gnawing at you. Despite your initial determination to stand firm in your decision to pick your boyfriend, you found yourself swept along with the crowd. Just like Arwen, you were heading towards the Undying Lands.

However, unlike her, you didn't have the vision of her child with Aragorn to sway your decision. You already knew how her story ended. Perhaps it was up to you to create a different ending.

Forgive me, Woo.

As the story reached its climax and the victory over Sauron marked the beginning of a new era for Middle-earth, everything seemed to pass in a blur. Finally, it was Aragorn's coronation in Minas Tirith, and Wooyoung turned around excitedly after Gandalf placed the crown on his head. Throughout the events, he had fun experiencing what the ranger did, but his thoughts were consumed by you. Maybe living the lives of the main characters was more burdensome than enjoyable.

After exchanging words with Legolas and anticipating your arrival, Wooyoung turned expectantly, only to find you missing. You did not appear the way Arwen did for Aragorn. The realisation dawned on him with dread—if you weren't there, it could only mean you must have left for Valinor. He approached Lord Elrond, whose expression remained unreadable, and asked, "Did she...?"

As your father bowed his head slightly and offered a pat on the shoulder, Wooyoung's heart sank like a stone. The weight of the realisation pressed down on him: you had chosen to leave. But why?

What had prompted you to go, despite your promise to reunite with him here? Had Elrond's words swayed you? Did they somehow make you see that perhaps your parents had been right all along? You had warned him not to let the emotions of his character overwhelm him, but had you succumbed to them yourself? These questions swirled in his mind, leaving him grasping for answers.

"She hoped you'd understand," Elrond said.

Your boyfriend offered a humourless smirk. "That I'd understand...? I suppose I do."

"Do you really? Tell me what you understand then," your voice chimed in from behind him, causing him to whirl around with wide eyes. There you stood, a mischievous grin lighting up your face. "Surprise, Jung Wooyoung. Did you think I wasn't going to come back to you?" you whispered, prompting him to cup your face tenderly. "You little minx," he muttered before capturing your lips in a loving kiss, eliciting cheers from the crowd.

As you pulled away and embraced him, you caught sight of your father's gaze. The expression on Lord Elrond’s face as he let his daughter go was a mix of love, fear, and vulnerability. It was the look of a father releasing his child to pursue something he didn’t entirely approve of but knew would bring her happiness. He struggled to maintain his composure, torn between his paternal instincts and the desire to see you happy. That night, you eventually broke away from the group bound for Valinor and returned to Rivendell, much like Arwen did. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Wooyoung, and you knew you could never let him go—neither in your world nor in this one.

"You know, I was just thinking... being the main character really isn't all it's cracked up to be," your boyfriend mused as you both lay in the King's chambers.

With your head nestled on his chest, you nodded, "I agree. It made me feel way too much emotion. But... I do think it's time I talk to my parents about us. They're my parents, and you're the love of my life. I can't imagine life without either of you. Hopefully, they'll be as understanding as Elrond was."

He smiled, pulling you closer, "Yeah, maybe we should have made more effort before."

Cuddling closer to him, you continued, "Yes, maybe... but yeah, we've already played the roles of both new and main characters. Perhaps it'd be nice to simply exist in a story without importance just like extras."

He sighed, kissing your head, "That does sound nice... We'll just be spectators, enjoying our place in the universe."

Closing your eyes, you sensed a peculiar shift in your surroundings, almost like you were on a train. When you opened your eyes again, you furrowed your brows in confusion. You were still in Wooyoung's arms, but Middle-earth was nowhere to be seen.

Shaking your boyfriend awake, you felt his body tense beside you as he tightened his grip on you. With a gasp, he absorbed the new setting. Indeed, you were on a train, but not just any train...

The Hogwarts Express.

Locking eyes, you whispered in unison, "We're going to Hogwarts."

As if on cue, the lady pushing the trolley of sweets appeared, her voice chirping, "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Before you could decline, Wooyoung swiftly released you and darted forward. "Ooh, yes! Two pumpkin pasties, please! I've always wanted to try them," he exclaimed, rubbing his palms together eagerly.

You tugged at his shirt, glaring, and silently mouthed, "Do we even have any money?" He froze, realisation dawning, and reached into his pockets. With a sigh of relief, he produced some coins. Winking at you, he grinned, "Don't worry, love. I've got this."

As he finished the purchase, he lingered by the door, watching with wide eyes as the lady rolled her trolley to the next compartment. With his jaw dropped in awe, he turned to you, whispering excitedly, "Oh my god, it's Harry Potter! Holy crap, the Golden Trio is in the next compartment."

Rushing back to settle beside you, he handed you a pumpkin pasty and began talking animatedly while stuffing his face, his words muffled, "I recognised that look on him. We're in the fourth year."

You raised a brow, "Goblet of Fire."

He nodded eagerly, "Exactly. The Triwizard Tournament and, most importantly," you both said in unison, "the Yule Ball."

You pondered, "Hold on a second. If we're in the fourth year, then that would mean we've already been sorted. Which houses do you think we're in, Woo?"

He grinned, "Only one way to find out," as he reached for your suitcases from the rack above your seats.

With bated breath, you watched him work on opening them. "Let's hope we're in the same house. It would be funny if you ended up in Slytherin somehow," you remarked.

He scoffed, "No way, I'm a Gryffindor through and through. Wanna bet?"

You shook your head, "No, thank you."

He pouted, "I was going to ask for a kiss if I won the bet, darn it."

You chuckled, "Hurry up, you rascal."

As he opened the first suitcase, he grinned at you, revealing the red Gryffindor scarf along with his uniform. "I told you," he chuckled before moving on to the next one. "Keep your fingers crossed, love," he urged. And you did. When he finally opened them, you couldn't contain your joy at seeing the same scarf along with your robes.

Moments later, the two of you stood in awe at the unbelievable sight of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before your eyes. Your eyes welled with tears as you squeezed Wooyoung's hand. "We're here, Woo. We're really here," you whispered.

He nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "We are."

Before you could continue revelling in the moment, a nearby prefect rolled his eyes. "Move along, you two. You act like it's your first time here," he said with a shake of his head. Your boyfriend tugged you along as you blew a raspberry, muttering under your breath, "Because it is."

Entering the castle, you noticed a crowd gathering by the bridge, evidently anticipating something exciting. Gasping in excitement, you quickly pulled Wooyoung along. "We have to see this! It's the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students."

As the Beauxbatons arrived in their majestic flying carriage and the Durmstrang in their impressive underwater ship, your boyfriend's attention remained solely on you. Sensing his gaze, you turned to share a smile. "That's right, keep your eyes on me just like that. I better not catch you gawking at the Beauxbatons girls when they make their grand entrance later," you teased.

He laughed and drew you close, whispering in your ear, "Don't worry, you're prettier than all of them combined."

Blushing, you looked away. "Pssh, sweet talker," you responded with a playful roll of your eyes, unable to suppress your grin.

But as the girls from the foreign school made their entrance, dancing into the Great Hall later that evening, you couldn't stifle a snort at Wooyoung's reaction. Like Ron, he was clapping enthusiastically, clearly impressed by the display.

Pfft, all men do is lie.

Beside you, Hermione and Ginny exchanged judgemental stares, mirroring your own sentiments. It was hard to contain your amusement as you watched the boys.

When the guys from Durmstrang made their grand entrance, you found yourself staring dreamily ahead, just like Wooyoung had done with the Beauxbatons girls. Thankfully, your boyfriend didn't discriminate; he seemed just as entranced by the dashing and charismatic Viktor Krum as you were.

You burst into giggles when he finally met your gaze with wide eyes. It was his fanboying moment, and you couldn't blame him because you felt exactly the same. You still couldn't believe you were really here with him. Sure, you had already been to Narnia and Middle-earth, but the Wizarding World held a special place in both your hearts.

The next day, seated beside your boyfriend in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, you both observed with amusement as Mad-Eye Moody began his lesson. The students appeared bewildered by his aggressive demeanour and uncomfortable lecture on the three Unforgivable Curses.

Wooyoung leaned in to whisper in your ear, "What do you think would happen if we exposed him as Barty Crouch Jr right here?"

You turned to shush him with a glare. "We're just extras here, so please act like it and avoid drawing any attention to ourselves."

The rest of the class unfolded exactly as you had anticipated, with Harry growing increasingly suspicious of Moody as the professor continued to gulp down his Polyjuice potion. You and Wooyoung exchanged knowing grins, rooting for him.

After class, you both hurried excitedly to the Great Hall, where students interested in participating in the Triwizard Tournament were submitting their names. Settling on a bench, you watched in fascination as the blue flame flickered brightly, students from all three schools stepping forward to cast their papers into the fire.

Your hearts sank when you saw Cedric Diggory eagerly submitting his name. If only he knew the tragic fate that awaited him.

"I suppose there's nothing we can do about it, huh?" Wooyoung asked, his tone heavy with resignation.

You shook your head sadly. "I'm afraid not."

The sombre mood only lasted so long as the Weasley twins, Fred and George, appeared with their usual antics, brandishing their ageing potion in hopes of submitting their names to the Triwizard Tournament despite Hermione's reminder that only seventh-years could participate, you and your boyfriend couldn't contain your laughter. True to your expectations, the twins were ejected back from the goblet, sprouting white beards and sparking a playful fight that drew a crowd of onlookers egging them on.

However, the atmosphere shifted when Viktor Krum marched in with his headmaster trailing behind him. You and Wooyoung shared a giggle as the Durmstrang heartthrob locked eyes with Hermione.

Leaning in, you whispered in a hushed tone, "If not Harry, I still prefer Hermione with Viktor over Ron, to be honest."

Your boyfriend feigned offence, pressing a hand to his chest. "How could you? Hermione and Ron are the one true pair."

As the two of you engaged in your heated debate, time flew by and the next thing you knew, Dumbledore entered the hall with most of the students, announcing, "Now, the moment you've all been waiting for: the champion selection." Exchanging a knowing glance with your boyfriend, you both sighed in anticipation. "Oh dear, here we go."

As Dumbledore announced Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric as the champions of their respective schools, you held your breath, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Harry Potter, the boy who lived. "Excellent! We now have our three champions!" boomed Dumbledore, his voice reverberating through the hall before unveiling the Triwizard Cup.

You winced, murmuring under your breath, "Only one more to go."

Beside you, your boyfriend shook his head with a hint of amusement. "Man, if only they knew the Cup was turned into a Portkey, none of that drama would happen."

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. "Yes, and then there would be no more story to tell now, would there?"

He snorted softly. "True."

As Harry's name was called out, disbelief swept through the Great Hall. You watched with a sinking feeling as even his friends began to stare at him accusatorily, wondering how he managed to enter his name into the Goblet of Fire when he was only a fourth year.

Your eyes landed on Mad-Eye Moody, or rather Barty Crouch Jr in disguise, knowing he was behind this sinister plot. Exchanging hopeless gazes with Wooyoung, you both understood that, at this moment, you were nothing more than spectators. There was no action you could take; you were simply here to witness events unfold.

Perhaps, as much as you wish otherwise, some things were simply meant to be. Your boyfriend covered your hand with his, offering comfort. "Since we can't change anything here, let's not stress about it and just enjoy the moment, hm?"

A smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "You're right, Woo."

"There he is—the poor thing."

You both were hanging out in the courtyard, enjoying the calm before the storm of the Triwizard Tournament's first task, when you spotted Harry passing through, looking visibly distressed. Your sympathy for him grew as you remembered the strained dynamics between him and his friends. Ron and the others firmly believed that Harry had somehow entered his name into the tournament and deliberately kept it from them. It was disheartening to see no one on his side, and you felt frustrated on his behalf.

As expected, Draco Malfoy, with his trademark smugness, decided to provoke him. "My father and I had a bet, you see," he said, dropping down from his perch on the tree. "I don't think you're going to last ten minutes in the tournament." His cronies followed suit as he continued, "He disagrees; he thinks you won't last five."

You and Wooyoung watched as Harry retaliated, standing up to the blonde Slytherin with fiery determination. "I don't care what your father thinks, Malfoy! He's vile and cruel, and you're pathetic."

Just as expected, Draco attempted to strike back, only to be swiftly turned into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody, eliciting laughter from the crowd. It was perhaps the only time you agreed with Barty Crouch Jr's actions, the only moment he seemed remotely likeable.

However, the amusement was short-lived as Professor McGonagall appeared to play the role of the good cop, firmly instructing Moody to release the bully from his transfiguration punishment.

"My father will hear about this!" Draco's famous words echoed across the courtyard as he hurried away from the scene he caused. Though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't interfere, his irritated state got the best of him, prompting him to slyly stick out his foot and trip the Slytherin as he passed by the two of you.

"How dare you!" Draco hissed, glaring up at your boyfriend.

Gasping, you dragged Wooyoung away with you, shouting, "Sorry, he didn't mean it!"

From across the courtyard, you caught Harry's eye and saw him nod appreciatively at both of you. Wooyoung beamed, waving enthusiastically before watching him go.

Turning back to your boyfriend, you smacked him lightly on the arm. "You! I can't believe you did that," you chided.

Wooyoung stuck his tongue out playfully. "Well, it sure feels satisfying, doesn't it? Besides, Harry acknowledged us."

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I suppose so."

The next day, you found yourselves seated among the crowd at the stands, eagerly awaiting the commencement of the first task: retrieving a golden egg guarded by a dragon. "Bets, place your bets!" Fred's voice rang out, followed closely by George's enthusiastic calls for wagers. "Bets taken, bets taken here!"

As the twins walked around, collecting bets on who would win first place, you sensed your boyfriend about to place a bet himself. With a disapproving click of your tongue, you shook your head. "It wouldn't be fair when you already know who wins!"

He shushed you with a grin. "All the more reason to place my bet! When else will I ever be this lucky, love?"

Resigned, you gave up and shook your head in mock exasperation.

As you watched the first three champions' attempts with bated breath, your nerves were on edge despite knowing they would emerge unscathed. Sensing your anxiety, Wooyoung took your hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. "Hey, it's going to be okay. You already know how it ends."

With a sigh of defeat, you leaned into his side, seeking comfort in his warmth as he wrapped an arm around you. "You're right, I do know," you murmured softly.

Your thoughts drifted to Cedric, and a pang of sadness washed over you as you remembered his tragic fate. It was difficult to watch him knowing what awaited him, but you found solace in your boyfriend's reassuring presence.

When it was finally Harry's turn, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the task, despite knowing the outcome. Every moment felt tense and fraught with danger, and you held your breath until he emerged victorious, tied with Viktor for first place.

Reflecting on the experience, you realised that being part of the scene was far more stressful than reading about it or watching it in a movie, especially when you cared deeply for the people involved.

As the Gryffindor common room buzzed with excitement and everyone crowded around Harry that evening, who proudly displayed his golden egg containing a clue for the second task, you and Wooyoung hung back, observing from a distance. Amidst the cheering and clamour, you both knew what was coming next.

When Seamus tossed the egg back to Harry, urging him to reveal the clue, you exchanged knowing glances. As he held the egg aloft and asked the crowd if they wanted him to open it, the room erupted in enthusiastic agreement. But you and your boyfriend were prepared. With a shared understanding, you plugged your ears, bracing yourselves for the inevitable shrieking noise.

Oh, you're all going to regret that.

As expected, the piercing screech from the golden egg sent everyone in the common room to their knees, hands clamped over their ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise. Amidst the chaos, Harry quickly shut the egg, bringing a momentary relief from the ear-splitting sound.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

Ron's abrupt entrance, punctuated by his exclamation, broke the tension in the room, casting a palpable awkwardness between him and Harry. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of unspoken tension, until one of the twins intervened.

"Alright, everyone, go back to your... knitting," Fred declared, breaking the spell of discomfort. "This is going to be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in."

The crowd dispersed, giving the two friends the privacy they needed to reconcile. As Ron and Harry finally made amends, you and Wooyoung shared a smile, feeling genuinely happy for Harry. For now, at least, things were looking up. And the best part of it all was yet to come—the Yule Ball.

You and Wooyoung exchanged eager glances as McGonagall began the dance lesson to prepare everyone in Gryffindor for the ball. Dancing had always been a fun pastime for the two of you, but now, being able to do it alongside your favourite characters and in your favourite fantasy world filled you with excitement.

As the professor made poor Ron demonstrate a dance with her, eliciting stifled laughter from the onlookers, she finally called out, "Everyone, come together! Boys, on your feet!" The girls eagerly stood up, ready to dance, while the boys groaned, leaving Neville and your boyfriend as the only ones rising from their seats.

"Wow, you're really lucky," Hermione remarked from beside you as Wooyoung made his way towards you. Unlike the others who struggled to find partners, you didn't have to worry. "He's hardly ever far from your side. You both seem genuinely in love."

You nodded, offering a shy smile, "Thank you, I believe so too."

As he pulled you into his arms and started dancing alongside Neville and Ginny, Wooyoung couldn't resist asking, "So, what did Hermione say to you?" You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, teasing, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He pouted, drawing his forehead close to yours. "Please, I really would like to know," he pleaded.

You chuckled, giving in to his curiosity. "She said I was lucky to have you, and that we seemed really in love." His playful grin shifted into a sincere one. "Well, she's right about that," he admitted warmly.

You smirked, teasing him further. "To be fair, when is Hermione Granger ever wrong?"

He shrugged, conceding the point. "Hmm, I guess you're right."

The following days were filled with hilarity as you witnessed Harry and Ron's struggles to find dates for the ball. The ginger's dramatic theatrics, particularly after embarrassing himself while trying to ask Fleur Delacour, provided endless entertainment. Meanwhile, poor Harry faced rejection from Cho Chang, who had already accepted Cedric's invitation.

From your corner of the couch, you and Wooyoung snickered at their misfortunes. Eventually, they settled on asking Padma and Parvati Patil. Before you knew it, you were also preparing for the ball. Like magic, you and your boyfriend found your dream outfits in your dorm wardrobe, ready to make a grand entrance at the event.

While your boyfriend had shown you his outfit for the event, you opted to surprise him later in the evening. Inspired by Hermione's iconic entrance, you planned to arrive early and make your own grand appearance without overshadowing her.

Wooyoung waited patiently outside the Great Hall, his heart quickening at the sight of the beautifully decorated winter-themed hall. "Hey, isn't that your girl?" Cedric nudged him, directing his attention to the staircase. Following the Hufflepuff's gesture, his breath caught as he watched you descend, momentarily capturing the crowd's attention with your shy smile.

With graceful steps, you made your way down in an off-shoulder black floor-length dress, adorned with delicate gold patterns that exuded elegance and regality. Unlike others, you chose to leave your hair down, adding a touch of effortless charm to your appearance. Despite having seen you in numerous stunning gowns from Narnia and Middle-earth, you never failed to leave him awestruck with your beauty. Perhaps he was biased, but to him, you were the most captivating presence in the room. And being his favourite colour, black only enhanced your allure in his eyes.

He whispered, "I'm the luckiest man alive, I swear," and you giggled. "Stop it, you," you playfully chided as you fixed his slightly crooked bow. As you did, he gently tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and continued, "I mean it. You're the most beautiful girl here."

You nodded, leaning in to peck his lips before replying, "And you're the most handsome boy here." His cheeky grin widened, and he responded smugly, "I know."

Pulling you gently towards the hall, he said, "Let's go eat before all the dancing starts."

The night passed in a whirlwind of dancing, with Wooyoung holding you close throughout, growing protective whenever he sensed other guys eyeing you. As the event gradually wound down, you found yourselves still on the dance floor, swaying together.

Slowly, a sense of drowsiness began to wash over you. Maybe it was time to return to reality. You knew what would come next in the story, and with the impending challenges and heartaches, you weren't sure you wanted to witness it firsthand. Perhaps it was best to leave the Wizarding World on a high note, with fond memories.

You exchanged smiles with Neville and Ginny, who were also enjoying the moment nearby. Then, you sighed and rested your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling his reassuring embrace. "Woo?" you murmured.

He kissed your cheek softly. "Yes, love?"

Tightening your hold around his shoulders, you snuggled into the crook of his neck. "I'm tired... I think I'm ready to go home."

He smiled, his heart growing warm at the thought of home as he leaned his head against yours. "Me too. I guess that's enough adventure for now."

Living out his fantasies had been incredible, but perhaps he, too, was starting to feel a bit homesick and ready to return home.

He gently stroked your hair as his eyelids grew heavy. Sometimes, the allure of escaping into fantasy worlds was irresistible, offering a temporary reprieve from the challenges of reality. But as the quiet settled around, Wooyoung knew that no matter how enchanting these worlds might be, they were only temporary escapes.

The surroundings gradually quieted, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in the comforting familiarity of your shared bedroom. You were nestled in his arms, peacefully asleep, and he had never felt more relieved. Drawing the covers snugly around you, he felt a deep sense of contentment settle within him.

"Home. We're home," he whispered, finally allowing himself to drift off into a restful sleep, grateful to be back where he truly belonged with you by his side.

This is as good as a compilation of some of my favourite parts from these film series. I know this might not be for everyone, but I wrote this mainly just to fulfil my own fantasies hehe.🙈

If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! Are you also a fan of these AUs? Let me know in the comments! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 @pandabur666 |

@sharksandminhos @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove

#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #narnia au #lotr au #hogwarts au #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #ateez fic #wooyoung oneshot #ateez oneshot

271 notes · View notes

waitingandwishing · 26 days ago

Note

OMG HIIII I LOVE UR SBG FICS SM !!! UR WRITING IS LITERALLY AMAZING 🌷🌷🌷🌷 if it’s ok with u, i was wondering if u could do a romantic sbg x reader where she tells them that she’s scared of dying in the phantom realm. they reassure her and promise that they wont let that happen to her, only for reader to die right in front them a few moments later after she feels okay ? i love angst :3

ironic... very ironic 😭

-> context: Death is not the greatest loss in life.

-> fandom: school bus graveyard

-> warnings: angst, mentions of blood and injury, death,

ASHLYNN:

It was cold in the phantom dimension, even when you were in the facility. It was quiet and tense with the evident fear of death hanging above your head. You were walking much slower then usual as you and Ashlyn traversed through the halls, mouth pressed into a solid line as your thoughts whirled within your head.

You paused, mouth opening, then closing, before you spoke quietly. “Can I say something kind of pathetic?” You asked, voice a little shaky.

Ashlynn glanced at you with a look that was more confused then judging much to your relief.

“…I’m scared. I keep thinking I’m gonna die here. Like—I just have this feeling, and I hate it. It’s stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about it.” You said, burying your head into your knees with a sigh.

Silence. Ashlyn stared at you for a long moment. Studying you, like she was trying to find the right words in a language she didn’t speak. “…That’s not pathetic.” She finally said after a moment.

You paused, lifting your head up just enough to look at her,

“I’m not… great at saying things that make people feel better. But I want you to know that...” Her voice caught in her throat and she looked away from your piercing gaze, “—I’ve been scared too. Of something happening to you. And the rest of us of course.”

This was clearly harder for her than fighting anything out there. “You’re… really important to me.” She muttered, “If something tried to take you… I wouldn’t let it."

The last part was quiet, like it slipped out before she could think twice. Her gaze held yours, unflinching now. The weight of the words settling between the two of you.

“…I didn’t know you felt that way.” You said, standing up straighter then before.

“Yeah. I figured.” Ashlynn said, a flicker of a smile appearing on her face, “You’re kind of bad at noticing.”

You laughed a little, and for the first time since you've been transported in the phantom dimension, your shoulders relaxed and you moved closer to Ashlynn. “…Thanks. I needed that.”

And then—thump. Thump. THUMP. A rhythmic pounding echoed from deeper in the hallway.

Your heart dropped. “Shoot!” Ashlynn spun around and you followed without thinking, legs suddenly sluggish with fear.

The sound grew louder behind you... Wet, unnatural, wrong. Your teeth chattered, not from cold, but from the vibration rising in your bones. A sharp pain bloomed in your chest. You gasped, stumbling.

And then, you turned around. Big mistake. The phantom was already on you. Dark, skeletal limbs, eyes that shimmered like oil, claws that slashed across your chest sharp and fast.

You screamed, falling backward as pain exploded through your body.

Ashlynn’s eyes widened in horror. “Y/N!”

The creature was on top of you now, shrieking as it drove its claws into your throat. Warmth gushed out of you in sickening pulses. Ashlynn lunged forward but the world was already slipping sideways. The last thing you saw was her face, contorted in panic, as the Phantom clawed you apart by your throat.

AIDEN:

It was cold, and you were walking alongside Aiden as the whole group traversed through the school. “Can I say something kind of sad?” You whispered, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

“Only if I get to make fun of you a little after.” Aiden said with a playful smile. You gave him a look and his expression softened almost immediately, “Kidding. Mostly.”

“…I’m scared. I keep thinking I’m gonna die here. And with Tyler and everything I just... Like... I just have this feeling, and I hate it. It’s stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about it.” You muttered, crossing your arms as your chest tightened.

There’s a pause. Longer than usual. Then he exhaled, looking serious for once. “Hey. Look at me.” You do. Aiden's expression is lighter than you'd expect, but his red eyes are steady. “You're allowed to be scared... And this place sucks in, like, seven different ways.”

They shift closer, voice quieter now. “But you’re not dying here. Okay?” A pause. He nudges your arm gently with his elbow. “You matter. Not just because I like your face. Though I do like your face. So don't die and ruin it.”

"That's... That's a pretty crappy way of comforting someone, You paused, looking at him before letting out a breathy laugh, "But... Thanks, Aiden."

"RUN!" Ashlynn suddenly yelled. The ceiling crashed down and the redhead winced, covering her ears.

Logan turned and pulled out his gun, aiming at the large worm and managing to land a bullet in its eye. Taylor widened her eyes at the realization before pulling the gun from the blonde and aiming it towards the worm.

"Taylor?! Taylor, what are you doing?!" Ashlynn shouted.

"KEEP SHOOTING! We need to injure it as much as we can!" Taylor cried as she and Logan continued to aim for the worm's face.

Eventually the monster fell but Taylor kept shooting. "Taylor." You called out, placing her hand on the girl's shoulder. Taylor dropped the gun down, slowly turning to look at you before nodding.

"We need to hurry in case it recovers." Logan said, pulling you away from the monster as you hurried down the hall and took a left in the coaches office. Ben laid Tyler down on a cot in the office.

"Where are they?!" Taylor shouted, irritated by the missing keys, "Coach must've moved them again!"

"Does he move them often?" Ashlynn asked.

"Yeah, because idiots like Jay and Conner keep messing with them." Taylor groaned exasperatedly.

"I feel a minor sense of deja-vu." Aiden thought to himself, swishing his knife back and forth.

"Like when we went to get the jeep?" You suggested and Aiden snapped with a smile.

"Yeah!" Aiden grinned.

"We have 3 minutes left, Aiden there's a straggler." Ashlynn informed him.

"Yeah, I can hear it running." Aiden grinned, turning his body fully as he stabbed the phantom in its face. "✨Got it✨! Did you see that, Y/N?"

You nodded, "Great job," You smiled, though fear was still evident on your face, "Are there anymore?"

"I can't see any- whoa!" The building started to rumble as they all fell down the ground, the ceilings were cracking.

"Everyone get under something!" Ashlynn yelled but as you were about to get under the desk, you saw Aiden and ran towards him.

"AIDEN!"

You felt yourself hastily lose consciousness, eyes closing as you laid helplessly along the rubble. Was Aiden alright? He wasn't hurt was he? You felt a sharp throbbing in your head, and you couldn't breathe. Was something on your chest? What was happening?

Aiden widened his eyes as he pulled you from the rubble. The left side of your face was heavily bruised and bloodied. There was blood smeared across your cheek and possibly coming from your mouth. Your body was limp, eyes half-lidded. And you... You were... Dead.

LOGAN

The cold air of the phantom dimension clung to your skin. Your hands trembled as you hugged your knees to your chest. You couldn’t shake the fear gnawing at her insides. You were scared. Scared of dying in this place, of fading into nothingness, with no one to remember you.

"I don’t want to die here," You whispered, your voice barely audible AS Ashlynn made another turn. "I don't want to disappear."

The large and looming monster-like centipede rushed forward, moth wide open to swallow you whole. You couldn't stop staring. Couldn't stop waiting for it's teeth to crush your skull...

Logan hesitated, heart racing. He could see the panic in your eyes, the vulnerability you were trying to hide behind that weak smile. He hated how helpless he felt, how little he could do.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to steady his shaking hands as he crouched beside you.

"H-hey," Logan said, voice soft but earnest, "You're not gonna die here. I won’t let that happen to you. You’ve got me, okay? We’re in this together." He smiled, though it felt more like a grimace. "I’ll figure it out. I’ll... I’ll keep you safe, no matter what."

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, lips curving into a weak smile. It wasn’t much, but it was something. "I-..." You turned back to look at the phantom before Logan turned your head to look at him.

"We're gonna be okay..." He muttered. You tried to believe him. You did believe him. Or at least, you wanted to.

"I just... I feel like I’m already fading," You murmured, voice breaking. "Like this place is swallowing me whole, and I won’t be able to come back."

He quickly reached out, placing a trembling hand on yours, "No, you're... You’re right here, and I'm right here. We’re right here."

For a second, everything seemed to slow. The darkness that had swallowed them seemed to shrink back, just for a moment, as though it had heard their promise. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, as if your fear had been calmed for just a moment.

"Okay," You whispered, your voice light now. "Okay, I-." Ashlynn then jerked the car, swinging as you slammed into the back. You let out a yell before hearing Taylor scream. You turned to see Tyler falling out of the car, eyes wide before you felt yourself tipping and falling as well.

The air suffocated you as fear stabbed through your heart. Or maybe it had been a branch.

TAYLOR

Desperation. That was all you could feel. You were desperate to go home, desperate to sleep, desperate to feel. You sat at the edge of your bed like a broken doll, arms limp at your sides, eyes unfocused. Your body ached in places you couldn’t name. Your thoughts were too loud and too distant all at once.

"Hey, hey!" Taylor waved her hand in front of your face. You turned, eyes glossed over. Taylor's face contorted into pain, furrowing her brows. She had seen that look before. She had seen it many times in her childhood. In her mother. "Are you okay?"

You didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, a soft, shuddering breath escaped your lips. Your shoulders sagged, and something in you finally cracked open.

“I’m tired,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “And scared... I don’t want to think anymore., I don't- I don't think I can do this anymore...”

Taylor didn’t say anything at first. She just sat beside you, gently, like she was afraid you'd break under the weight of even kindness. Then she reached out and pulled you into her arms.

You didn’t resist. Your head fell to her shoulder, and she held you there, arms steady and warm, heart beating where yours felt hollow. She didn’t try to fix anything. Didn’t offer words. Just stayed.

"Can you stay with me, Taylor?" You asked. She nodded, her hand slowly stroking your head carefully.

“I’ll stay,” she murmured, brushing hair from your face. “You’re safe now, and I won't let anything happen to us. To you. Just rest.”

You looked up at her, your eyes blurring over before you smiled. You're not sure you believed that but... You believed in her.

You closed your eyes. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself fall asleep in someone’s arms.

The world around you darkened, and comfort wrapped you in it's warm embrace before it was quickly pulled off of you. You furrowed your brows, opening your eyes before... Seeing yourself. Again.

Ever since you had entered the phantom dimension you'd been having these... Dreams. Dreams of fighting yourself, but you always won so...

“I’m not afraid of you,” You lunged first, fist flying in a tight hook, but the doppelgänger ducked, driving a brutal elbow into your ribs. You gasped but didn’t fall. You responded with a rising knee, clipping your twin’s jaw.

They grappled, feet sliding on the invisible floor, exchanging blows that thudded meatily through the void. Every strike from the doppelgänger was cruel. An eye gouge, a throat jab, a heel to the knee.

The doppelgänger rebounded with a snarl and tackled you, slamming you both to the floor. They mounted you and their claws tightened around your throat.

You felt air escape your lungs, and you could feel your eyes prickling with tears. You gagged, letting out another gasp before your doppelgänger used it's suddenly sharp nails to claw at your throat.

"Now there's only me." It whispered, it's voice sickening. Blood ran down your neck, warming the ground beneath you as it stained your skin.

TYLER

You sat on the edge of your bed, arms slack, eyes unfocused. You weren’t even sure how you got here. The world moved like it was underwater.

“Hey,” came a voice. Low. Firm. A hand waved in front of your face. You blinked slowly and turned your head.

Tyler was standing there. Not frowning. Not wide-eyed. Just watching you carefully, jaw tight, like he was trying to solve a problem her didn’t have the right tools for. “You look like horrible,” He muttered.

There was a pause, and then he sighed. It wasn’t annoyed, it was more of a sigh of someone who didn’t know how to say what they meant, so they defaulted to doing.

He crouched in front of you and tugged your blanket up from where it had fallen before tossing it around your shoulders. Then stood, moved around the room with focused energy. Closing the blinds, clearing the clutter from your bed, kicking your shoes off without asking.

He returned, standing stiffly for a second before sitting beside you. “You sleep yet?” You shook your head. “Tch. Thought so.” Another pause. Then, quieter: “You need it.”

"Can't." You said, your hands trembling. "I don't think I can do this again, Tyler... I don't- I'm..."

"You're okay." Tyler said, stiffly wrapping an arm around you. You paused before relaxing and lying your head down on his lap. He stiffened before sighing.

His hand rested along your back, his thumb rubbing small comforting circles. “Just sleep. You don’t have to do anything else right now.”

He was right. You didn't. So your breathing slowed, and with the blanket wrapped around you and the hand still resting on your back that held a presence that said, 'You’re not alone.', you happily welcomed the warmth.

Sleep came like a tide. Not crashing. Just rising slowly. You heard him shift beside you, maybe checking if you were okay. Maybe about to say something else, one of those awkward, half-choked reassurances they never quite knew how to phrase. But you didn’t answer. Your chest didn’t rise again.

Tyler froze. “…Hey,” He said, voice sharp this time. A little louder. A little more afraid. Another beat of silence. “Hey.” He shook you. Not rough, but hard enough that you should’ve groaned, should’ve stirred, should’ve done something. You didn’t.

Tyler sat up fully now, eyes wide. Hands moving without thought. Checked your pulse. Checked your breath. Nothing. Nothing.

"No—no, no, come on—” Panic cracked through his voice like he hated the sound of it coming from his own throat. "You were just—you were fine. You were just talking— What happened?!"

His hand trembled, still shaking your body, still wishing you were still here. What had happened?! You couldn't have just... That was impossible!

But it was already too late. You were gone. Softly. Silently. Like you'd slipped through the cracks of the world the moment it got quiet enough to let you go.

BEN

You were still crying as blood gushed out of your stomach. You felt Ben shift beside you. Then, with trembling fingers, he pulled out his notepad and scribbled something, holding it up so you could see: “You’re safe. I'll stay with you.”

This had been unexpected. You were fearful and fighting for your life in one moment, before then having your guts clawed out by a phantom in another. Two many had overrun you, and when the group had caught up to you, you were on the brink of death.

They carried you back to the graveyard, hoped that you'd be safe, and let Ben try to nurse you back to health. But he wasn't a nurse or a doctor, he was just a kid. You were just a kid...

You blinked. He wrote something else. Slower this time. Every letter deliberate, like it meant something heavy. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You swallowed hard. A lump caught in your throat. You could see that in the way they stayed close, in the way his hand found yours and gave it the softest squeeze, that you knew he wished he could do more. Ben always wished he had done more.

"I-it's okay, I'm okay. We're gonna be okay..." You said rapidly. You didn't have enough time to say more, didn't have enough blood to stay alive.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, so please stay alive.” He wrote before quickly setting the notepad down and getting back to work.

And maybe, for the first time in days, you believed them. Your breathing slowed. Your head leaned onto his shoulder. The ache in your chest eased, just a little. Just enough. “I think I’m okay,” you whispered, hoarse.

His arms tightened around you. Ben's face crumpled in silent horror. Not a sound escaped him. But that was always how it was. He held you tighter as blood soaked his hands. But this time it wasn't his. It was yours.

(A/n: So sorry I didn't get to this one sooner, I was really stuck on this one for some reason! Also I'm not sure if I like this one, I'm really sorry if this isn't as good as you hoped it would be!)

35 notes · View notes