#some ancient gifs of mine

[lovinggreeniehours]

fault

↳ faruzan × arin × sethos (though this is more arin-centric than shippy)

↳ 600+ words

↳ trying to conceptualize arin's character more, and i ended up with this. now there's angst with no resolution🥳 (so far) i might rewrite this for something bigger but i wanted to get the idea out of my head first. im not sure how well people might understand this without context but. i hope there's an inkling at least?

Everything hurt. From the pounding in Arin's head to the soreness of his legs. He expected that, having only woken up several hours ago. But there he sat, late in the night, already dressed to leave. He just had one thing left to check.

Watching Faruzan wake up beside him, he imagined she was feeling somewhat similar.

"Hey, dummy."

Faruzan grimaced, cringing away from even the barest streaks of moonlight from her window. She turned left and right in confusion, hair mussing up around her head.

"Wh-What? Arin?"

Arin simply shook his head. He released a gentle wave of Cryo energy to his fingertips, ghosting his hands over her forehead and scalp to help her relax.

"We're fine, we're fine. I just wanted to see if you'd.." He paused, then shook his head. "Nevermind. Just go back to sleep."

When he was confident she had fallen back asleep, he spoke up once more, now more or less just playing with the uneven strands of hair framing her head. He retracted his hand, reaching to his side to pick up his sheathed sword.

"Sorry, Paruparo. I won't be here when you wake up, I don't think."

He caught a glimpse of the view outside the window. A city perched atop the gargantuan Divine Tree, and the rainforest that surrounded it. None of which was familiar anymore. As far as Arin could tell, everything he knew was inside this room. And he hoped she was sleeping well, despite his intrusion.

"I will return tomorrow. After they've.. told you everything." He secured his sheath to his belt, turning to leave.

—

"Hey." Someone said. Arin was too entrenched in sleep to care who, though they're only could be one person. The bitter remains of a forgotten dream clung to the recesses of his mind, ruining his mood before he could decide what it was even supposed to be. "You're burning up."

"Mmph."

Sethos's light eyeroll was audible in his tone. "Come on.."

Honestly, he was probably right. Arin did feel more exhausted than usual. Maybe warm. He wasn't sure. Wasn't it always warm in Sumeru?

"I think we need to camp out a bit longer."

That got Arin's eyes open. He shook his head as much as he was able (which was, very feebly).

"I'll be fine."

"No, no, no." Sethos held him down him by the shoulders just as he was about to get up. Sunbeams poured down over Sethos's head, resembling a halo with the soft lavender skylight of Vanarana. "No."

Arin had to squint at him to filter out the light. "I'm fine."

"No, you are most definitely not."

"We need to help Rana.." Arin groused.

"We do." Sethos nodded. "But, no offense, you're not going to be much of help to her or anyone trying to travel in your condition."

Arin could only muster a huff. To his own dismay, he already found himself too tired to continue his argument, and all too willing to slip back into slumber.

"We need to help Rana." He repeated, considerably weaker than before; more rueful than anything.

"This is just one obstacle." His companion reassured. "Just rest well. We'll be back on the road in no time."

Sethos's knuckles pressed against Arin's forehead to gauge the temperature. His skin held a soft sort of warmth.

Sethos began to mumble to himself as Arin drifted off. The words were lost on him. Something about Sumeru City being too far. Something about the sky. Something about vision.

"Sorry." Arin murmured in his drowsiness. Notably, Sethos went silent. "I did it again."

"Did what?" Sethos asked.

"Stepped.. I stepped on the pressure plate." Arin mumbled. "I hope we don't stay stuck here too long."

Sethos paused, eyebrows knitting together in thought.

"You know.. it's not your fault. For getting sick."

Arin only hummed, Sethos's voice echoing as he finally fell asleep.

[fischerfrey]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding

Chapter 7: Something Old, Something New

Summary: The fate of Alderly hangs in the balance as Dawn, Quincey, Evander, and the others race to uncover the conspiracy behind The New Alderly Initiative.

A/N: Here it is; The final chapter of the second installment! I'm proud to have finished this, though I have to admit that it didn't turn out quite as I would have wanted it. I had to leave a lot of stuff out and I didn't have time to really dig into the potential this AU has. Regardless, I'm very fond of this universe and I'm excited for next Christmas's story already.

Thank you to everyone who's been reading this year! I appreciate your reactions, comments, and tags more than I could ever express.

And as always, a massive thank you goes to my partner in crime Annie (@potionboy3), without whom this story would never have seen the light of day. Thank you❤️

Words: 3.8k

Characters:

Dawn and Evan Harvelle, Rosa Yaxley, Evander Alderly, Maxim Raeburn, and Jimmy Crouch by @potionboy3

Quincey, Olympia, and Isabella Alderly, Tess Brandon

Rocky Weasley by @magicallymalted

Pandora Lovelace and Nymeria Lee by @gcldensnitch

Jupiter Durand by @cursed-herbalist

Diana Somerset by @endlessly-cursed

Mentioned:

Nova Hartley

Nate Mackade by @unfortunate-arrow

John Arthur by @potionboy3

Lainey Bell by @gcldensnitch

Gaia Alden by @cursed-herbalist

Beatrice Somerset by @camillejeaneshphm

Beginning | Previous Chapter

Want to read the first fic in the series, A Christmas Prince? Click here!

Chapter 7: Something Old, Something New

Dawn and Quincey rode back to the palace with haste. When they got to the room where Dawn had left Tess and Evander, everyone turned to look at them and Dawn felt a chill go down his spine at the expressions on their faces.

“What is it?” Dawn asked.

“We cracked the database,” said Evander. “And I’m afraid you’re not going to like what we found.”

“Tell me,” said Quincey.

Olympia walked up to them. She looked like she might have been crying, or maybe it was just the lack of sleep. She took Quincey’s hand.

“You’re scaring me now,” he told her.

“It’s mother. She’s been siphoning the country’s money for… I don’t know what purpose.”

Quincey blinked. He looked from Olympia to Evander, who nodded. Then he turned his gaze back to his sister.

“That can’t be,” he said. “What reason would she have to steal from herself?”

“Come see for yourself,” said Evander. Quincey walked over and Evander showed him the laptop. Dawn followed him and saw it on the screen, clear as day. Isabella Alderly was the CEO of Glockenspiel Consortium.

“Quince…,” said Dawn. This was not a turn of events he had been anticipating, no matter how much he might have disliked Isabella. He’d been half convinced the real culprit was Miss Pince, but despite all their animosity, Pince did love the crown more than anything, or so it seemed.

 “I must speak with her,” Quincey said.

“We’re coming with you,” said Dawn.

“We should accompany you,” said Evander, almost at the same time. “And you should know, this information wasn’t obtained entirely… legally.”

“So, it won’t hold at court?” asked Quincey.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Then I’ll have to deal with this my way.”

~

When Dawn and the others located the queen, she was with most of the senior staff, Miss Yaxley, and Dawn’s dad.

“Dawn?” asked Evan. “Thank goodness you’re alright, I was worried.” Evan came to hug him but Dawn said: “Not now, dad, something’s happened.”

“What?” asked Evan.

“I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

“Good, you’re all here,” said Evander. “We might need an audience for this.”

“Is everything alright?” asked Isabella.

“No, no it isn’t,” said Quincey.

“If this is about the wedding,” started Isabella. “A little modernization won’t be a threat to the monarchy, as long as the memory of your dear father is respected.”

“We’ll get to that,” said Dawn. Isabella blinked at him in surprise, as if only now realizing he was even present. “There is a threat to the monarchy, but it’s not modernization.”

“What ever are you talking about?” asked Pince. Dawn didn’t take his eyes off Isabella.

“I’m sorry mother,” said Quincey. “But the jig, as they say, is up.”

“What?” asked Isabella, still feigning innocence.

“The New Alderly initiative has been failing,” started Quincey. “Because you've been siphoning off the money.”

Isabella looked aghast. “That's absurd.”

“People lost their jobs because of you,” said Dawn.

“And you lied to our faces,” added Olympia.

Everyone’s eyes now turned to the queen. Isabella didn’t look shaken, only annoyed. “How dare you imply such thing?” she asked. “My own children, no less.”

“We know, mother,” said Quincey. “All of us. We know.”

“I will not stand for this,” said Isabella. “This is slander.”

“As king, I hereby relieve you of your active role as a member of the royal family. You may keep your titles, a modest allowance, and your house in the county, and we’ll keep this under wraps. The monarchy’s fate is unsteady as it is. But that’s all you’ll get. Ever again,” said Quincey grimly.

“You can’t do this,” said Isabella. “You have no proof.”

“Then why do I hear the dulcet tones of a glockenspiel?” asked Evander. “As in Glockenspiel Consortium.”

Isabella glared at her nephew and Evander looked pleased with himself. Dawn, wanting to bring him down a peg, kicked his shin and said: “It’s not that clever.”

“Mr. Flitwick,” said Quincey. “Why don’t you escort the queen to her rooms, and make sure she stays there.”

“Yes, sir,” said Flitwick.

“Quentin, please, listen to me,” said Isabella and took a step closer to her son. “They’re trying to manipulate you against me. They’re deliberately driving a wedge between us, I–,”

“The only one manipulating me here has been you,” Quincey snapped. “And I may not be able to prove anything, but I know what you’ve done. I know it was you and you’ve been pretending to help me all this time, leading me down wrong paths to keep me off your tracks.”

Isabella just stared at Quincey, speechless, for the first time.

“You know this is actually treason, right?” asked Olympia.

The queen seemed to finally realize that there was nothing she could do. “All I’ve ever done is try to protect this family. This country.”

“By stealing from it?” asked Dawn.

“By making my son realize that bringing in dangerous variables is not good for the family,” she didn’t look at Dawn as she said it, but the implication was clear enough.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” said Quincey. “Take her away.”

Flitwick, along with two other members of the security team, escorted the queen away. Everyone was left in stunned silence and Dawn took Quincey’s hand discreetly.

When they had gone, Quincey took a deep breath, and said: “I’m so sorry. I should have seen this.”

“She did a damn good job keeping you in the dark,” said Evander. “And keeping Dawn and I out.”

Dawn looked at Evander. “Me?”

“You already had plenty of reason to dislike her so she wouldn’t have been able to fool you so easily,” Evander explained.

“And you went to business school,” finished Dawn. “I get it.”

“Still,” said Quincey. “We must try to get the money back. Maybe arrange some sort of Christmas bonuses to everyone who lost their jobs.”

“Can that be done?”

“I’ll put some people on it,” said Quincey.

“Put me on it,” said Evander.

Quincey looked at him for a moment and then said: “Not before you’ve had at least ten hours of sleep.”

Evander looked rather surprised. “Oh, alright, then.”

“And Miss Yaxley,” said Quincey. Rosa perked up, looking anxious at being addressed under the circumstances.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Do you think you’d still have time to make some changes to the wedding plans?” Quincey asked.

“What kind of changes?”

Quincey looked at Dawn, who shrugged. “Well, I’d prefer it if it was just a lot… less.”

“I think I might be able to manage that,” said Rosa. “I assume this also includes your outfit, Mr. Harvelle?”

“Oh yes, yes it does.”

Rosa looked almost relieved. Miss Pince’s face was unreadable, but she remained silent.

“Alright, I’ll see what can be done.”

“Thank you,” said Quincey. “Now everyone should get back to the preparations. We don’t have all that much time.”

As the staff dispersed, Dawn went to his dad. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“What matters is that you’re alright,” said Evan. “Are you alright?”

“I think I will be,” Dawn said.

~

“Loyal Alderlians, I'm happy to announce that I am able to tear up the script that I was given for tonight's speech, one which glossed over the hardships that I know a lot of you have been facing. I can instead announce, thanks to the Mr. Dawn Harvelle and my cousin, Count Evander, that severe corruption is responsible for our recent hardships. It has been discovered and eliminated. The funds have been recovered, and every one of you will be paid the wages you are owed, along with a Christmas bonus for every hard-working person in Alderly,” Quincey spoke into the mic.

The speech was held in the courtyard, in front of the tree Dawn and Quincey had chosen. It was shown on live television so everyone in Alderly could tune in. A lot hinged on the speech. They’d concluded that Isabella’s corruption could not be revealed to the world. Dawn didn’t exactly agree but he could see why it might be the final spark to ignite the powder keg that was Alderly. Isabella was to attend the Christmas festivities and the wedding as normal and after that she was to depart, either for her country estate or for Monaco, Quincey had said he didn’t much care which, as long as he didn’t have to lay eyes on her. Maybe after Christmas there could be opportunity to examine how this kind of corruption had been allowed to happen in the first place but for now, he prepared himself for what Quincey had to say next.

“On behalf of the entire royal family… Queen Isabella, Princess Olympia, Count Evander, Prince-Consort-to-be Dawn, and the newly minted Count Evan Harvelle, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Let's celebrate with the lighting of the royal Christmas tree!”

“Three, two, one!”

The tree was lit with white and gold, just as Pince had planned but it made Dawn very happy that the tree currently displayed on many screens across the country was the one he had chosen. The cameras shut down and Quincey walked to them from the spotlight.

“How did that go?” he asked.

“Not too bad,” said Evander.

Quincey gave him a look. “Evander,” he started. “I believe I owe you a great deal.”

“No, not at all,” said Evander but then added: “But, now that I've proven my mettle, and there being an open seat on your Advisory Council…”

Quincey laughed and said: “Don't push your luck.”

“Fair enough.”

“But I think I’m ready to bury the hatchet,” said Quincey and extended a hand to Evander. He shook it and nodded. Next to Dawn, Olympia eyed them, warily.

“You did us all a great service,” she said. “And I’m grateful. However, if you try any shit–,”

“Dawn already gave me this speech, dear cousin,” said Evander. “Consider me warned.”

~

The next morning the guest began to arrive, first among them Jimmy, Maxim, Jupiter, and Nymeria. Dawn, Rocky, and Pandora met them happily outside the palace doors. Dawn, glad to see all his friends, hugged them all in turn.

“Woah, there,” said Jimmy when it was his turn. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Mate, you would not believe the shit that’s been going on here these last few days,” said Rocky.

“I expect you three are going to tell us,” said Maxim.

“You had better,” added Nymeria.

“We better get inside,” said Dawn. “And get some glühwein.”

“Hell yes to that,” said Pandora.

~

Back inside, in what Dawn had begun to think of in his mind as the living room, but which really was one of multiple sitting rooms, Dawn, Rocky and Pandora explained in detail everything that had happened in Alderly, from the strikes and the missing funds to their investigations to finding out Isabella had been behind it all. To say they were surprised would be an exaggeration.

“Dawn, your life is like some kind of soap opera,” said Jupiter, sipping her glühwein.

“You’re telling me,” said Dawn. “Oh, and did I mention; I didn’t even get a proper bachelor party.”

“We have to remedy this, immediately,” Maxim declared.

“Boy’s night out?” asked Rocky.

“Boy’s night out,” agreed Maxim.

“What are we supposed to do?” asked Nymeria.

“Oh, I think I can help with that…,” said Pandora.

There was a knock on the door, and Quincey stepped in. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked.

“Oh, not at all,” said Jupiter. “Dawn was just planning to ditch us to go party with the lads.”

Quincey laughed. “Well, that’s just rude.”

“Hey, I didn’t get a proper stag night because the country was falling apart.”

“Hmm,” begun Quincey. “Neither did I.”

“You’re welcome to tag along with us,” said Pandora.

“Really?” asked Quincey.

“It would be an honour,” said Pandora with mock-deference. Quincey smiled.

“Alright, since you so cordially invited me. Can I bring a few guests?”

“For sure,” said Nymeria. “Wait, it’s not your mum, is it?”

“Oh no,” said Quincey. “Just Lainey and Olympia.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“Wait,” said Dawn. “There’s something I forgot.”

He dug out his phone from his pocket as everyone’s eyes turned to him. “An important ceremony, of sorts…”

“What?” asked Jimmy.

“I hereby propose King Quentin of Aldelry to be added to the bristol squad group chat,” Dawn started. “Those in favour?”

His friends repeated: hear, hear, and raised their hands. Quincey shook his head, amused.

Dawn added him to the chat. “Oh, I’ve just realized we can’t be the bristol squad anymore…”

“Why’s that?” asked Maxim.

“Well, Quincey and I live in Alderly now…”

“Dawn,” said Pandora. “I love you, but you’re an idiot. Most of us haven’t lived in Bristol in a while, or like, ever.”

Dawn blinked at her. “Well, yeah, but now it’s different.”

“How is it different?” asked Jupiter but Dawn was too busy coming up with an incredible idea.

“I’ve got it!” he announced. “From this day henceforth, we shall be known as alderlies assemble!”

He typed in the new name as his friends laughed.

“Mate,” said Rocky. “I didn’t know we were all marrying Quincey.”

“I think my cabinet may draw the line at polygamy…” Quincey pondered.

“Boo,” said Dawn. “It’s a great name.”

“It is,” said Pandora. “I like it.”

~

The next few days were a blur. Christmas Eve spent with his family and Quincey’s, all his friends present and actually getting to plan the wedding with Rosa and Quincey. The ceremony obviously still had to have the elegance of a royal wedding, but they toned it down substantially with Quincey’s full support.

“I don’t think a grand ceremony is what the country wants to see right now,” said Quincey while they were planning the seating arrangement.

“Not unless your goal is to get us both guillotined,” said Dawn.

“I think I’d prefer to keep my head, where it is.”

“I prefer it there as well,” said Dawn. They hadn’t really talked about the past week since the cabin and a lot of Dawn’s anger had subsided since then, but he still felt hurt, he couldn’t help it. “But you could do with a little modernization initiative yourself.”

“I know I acted foolishly,” said Quincey. “You’d think I’d have learned my lesson since last year, but I suddenly got so scared. I’m going against hundreds of years of tradition just by being openly myself and mother managed to convince me that I must balance it out by being otherwise as conventional as I can. By following every rule and doing everything by the book.”

“You could have talked to me about it.”

“I felt like a coward.”

“I don’t think you’re a coward,” said Dawn.

“I let you down.”

“Well,” said Dawn. “I guess it is daunting to be the first of anything. Especially being the first openly gay king of your country, marrying his boyfriend.”

“You could say that.”

“But I want us to be there for each other and it doesn’t work if you keep things from me,” Dawn said.

“Nor if you keep things from me,” Quincey countered.

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t either.”

Dawn sighed. “Good. Communication is the key.”

“Speaking of,” Quincey said. “Tess told me about the necklace. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what it was when Pince told you to take it off. I’d love it if you wore it for the wedding.”

Dawn smiled. “Alright.”

Quincey gave him a small smile in return. “If we work together, we can do this.”

“Alright, best give it a shot, then.”

~

In the end, Rosa had put together beautiful decorations for the ceremony and reception. Wild Alderlian winter flowers along with fairy lights, candles, and red and green. To Dawn, it felt a little bit like walking through a fairy forest Christmas party. If fairies celebrated Christmas. His outfit had been changed from the traditional costume to a more toned-down suit that was definitely not anything to write home about, but it was sleek and stylish. Quincey was dressed in a similar fashion and the entire ceremony was kept as low key as royal protocol allowed. Not that it wasn’t beautiful, still. The grand throne room had been converted into a wedding venue, complete with an aisle decorated with flowers. After the actual ceremony, the guests gathered into the slightly smaller but no less impressive ball room for food, drinks, and dancing. All things considered, it was a small wedding, though the thought did make Dawn chuckle. A year ago, this would have been one of the biggest weddings he could imagine.

~

After cutting cake and the first dance, Dawn searched for his friends. He spotted Nymeria and Maxim on the dance floor, as well as Olympia who was dancing with Gaia Alden. Dawn grinned to himself like some sort of crazy person. He didn’t spot Jimmy or Jupiter but finally he saw Rocky by the drinks, talking to a familiar face.

“So, you’re also from Bristol?” asked Rosa.

“I live there, yeah,” Rocky said and leaned against the table in a cool and aloof manner.

“Hi guys,” said Dawn, interrupting. Both turned to look at him.

“Congratulations, your highness,” said Rosa with something that could have been a genuine smile.

“Thank you,” said Dawn. “Really. Thank you, for all this. I don’t know how you pulled it off but it’s all so beautiful.”

“It was definitely a challenge,” said Rosa and took a sip of her champagne.

“It’s impressive,” said Rocky and Rosa might have blushed or maybe she’d just had more glasses of champagne, that was anybody’s guess. Dawn took a glass himself. “He’s right. I can’t say I ever much thought about what my wedding would look like, but this is probably better than anything I would’ve come up with.”

“Thanks,” said Rosa. Dawn nodded to them as he spotted Quincey coming his way. He excused himself and walked up to him.

“Husband,” said Dawn.

Quincey laughed. “Husband,” he echoed.

“Is everything to your liking?” Dawn asked.

“Yes,” said Quincey. “It’s perfect.”

“Well, not perfect,” said Evander who had suddenly materialized from the crowd. “But it’s not all too bad.”

“Hello, Evander,” said Quincey.

“I thought you should know,” Evander continued. “Your mother’s trying to weasel her way into the good graces of some foreign dignitaries. I made Flitwick keep an eye on her.”

“Good call,” said Quincey.

“Quincey, Dawn!” came a voice from behind Dawn, and as Dawn turned, Diana Somerset, Quincey’s distant cousin slash Isabella’s dream daughter-in-law walked to them.

“Hey!” exclaimed Quincey and hugged her. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” she said and only then seemed to acknowledge the existence of Evander. “Hello,” she said, rather coldly.

“Diana,” said Evander. “It’s good to see you.”

Dawn eyed them both and Quincey seemed ready to start putting out fires.

Evander cleared his throat and said: “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“You did?”

He nodded. “I wanted to apologize. For last year. I should never have done what I did, and I shouldn’t have tried to rope you into it.”

Diana looked at him a little warily. She looked to Quincey, probably to see his reaction, and then back to Evander. “It was pretty slimy,” she said. “But I hear you helped the country a great deal in recent days.”

“Well, I might have contributed,” said Evander. “A little.”

“Truce?” suggested Diana and offered her hand. Evander shook it and said: “Truce.”

~

Dawn and Quincey talked to many guests throughout the evening. Dawn’s old friend from school, John Arthur, had brought his new boyfriend as a date, which surprised Dawn almost more than anything else that had happened that day. Quincey was glad to meet more of Dawn's friends, and Dawn got to meet some of Quincey's. Aside from Lainey, they also chatted a while with Nate Mackade, Quincey's old dormmate from boarding school. He was attending with his girlfriend Nova. Dawn danced with Pandora, Tess and his dad, while Quincey danced with Olympia and Diana, as well as Diana’s twin sister Beatrice. Eventually Dawn's feet hurt so much he had to go find a seat. Tess sat next to him.

“Hi, your highness,” she said with a little laugh.

“Oh, come on.”

“What?” she asked innocently.

“I think they ought to make you a countess, or something, for all the work you’ve done for this country,” said Dawn.

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“You made a lot of coffee,” said Dawn. “For Evander.”

“He isn’t all that bad,” Tess said, and she was about to continue her explanation as to why on Earth she would think that, when she was interrupted.

“Who isn’t that bad?” asked Evander.

“Oh,” said Tess. “Hi, you.”

Dawn studied Evander’s expression which betrayed nothing.

“What is it? Did the queen turn into a lizard monster and is now eating the guests?” asked Dawn.

Evander rolled his eyes at him and then looked back to Tess, pretending like Dawn wasn't even there.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked her.

To Dawn’s surprise, a bright smile appeared on Tess’s face.

“Yeah,” she said. “I could dance.”

Dawn watched in some sort of shock, as Evander offered his hand and Tess took it, and he was still looking at them as they made their way to the dance floor.

“What the fuck…” he muttered to himself.

~

Half an hour later Dawn found Quincey in the courtyard. From his smile, he deduced he’d been expecting Dawn to show up.

“Hi,” Quincey said as Dawn walked closer.

“Hey,” replied Dawn.

“Are you having fun?”

Dawn nodded. “Although, I should tell you that Evander asked Tess to dance.”

“He did?”

“Yes, and she seemed happy about it.”

“Well, I’ll be…”

“He better not be plotting or scheming,” Dawn grumbled.

Quincey laughed, merrily.

“This is not a laughing matter, Quentin.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry…” said Quincey and raised both his hands in the air. “I’ll be sure to not grant my permission as a monarch for him to wed if it comes to that.”

Dawn stared at him. “It won’t come to that.”

He could not handle Evander as an uncle. That would be too much for anyone to handle.

“Did you see your friends?” asked Quincey, changing the subject.

“Yes, they all seem to be having fun.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Quincey.

“Yeah…”

Dawn looked at Quincey for a moment. Everything had happened so fast that he struggled to wrap his mind around the fact that they’d actually made it here, to this day. Overcome by some kind of sappy romance novel spirit, he grabbed Quincey’s face in both his hands and kissed him. Quincey smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Dawn.

When they pulled apart, he said: “Thank you for making this the best Christmas ever. I don't think we'll ever be able to top this one.”

Dawn laughed.

“Well, you never know,” he said. “Maybe next year the country won’t be in a crisis.”

“Well yes,” said Quincey. “Next year might be better.”

“I'm willing to try if you are,” said Dawn.

“Yes,” said Quincey and kissed him again.

He was fairly certain that whatever next year had in store, it couldn't possibly hold a candle to the last two. He certainly hoped it would be peaceful and uneventful.

tag list: @lifeofkaze, @gcldensnitch, @endlessly-cursed, @cursed-herbalist, @magicallymalted

(ask if you want to be included or removed)

[melmedardasworld]

Alright, I'm writing something close to their reunion. It'll just be a oneshot. I've rewatched the episodes again and my heart ❤️ 💔.

Yearning to read post Meljay reuniting.

Imagine both having control over their magic and helping each other and bonding through their time together on a different level than usual. I know they both need it emotionally and physically. 🥺😢💔😫

[theostrophywife]

le coup de foudre.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: my love mine all mine by mitski.

author's note: this was a result of me binging dune and call me by your name. whoever fancasted timothee chalamet as regulus deserves a forehead kith cause look at him. he's so boyfriend coded it makes me sick.

Regulus Black did not believe in love at first sight. 

It was a foolish notion. One that contradicted his pragmatic beliefs. At his core, Regulus was a realist. In his world, love was not a luxury one could afford. Regulus was raised with the expectation to marry according to class, wealth, and most importantly, blood status. The noble and most ancient house of Black only took the purest of the pure. 

After all, toujours pur, always pure, has been his family’s motto for centuries. There has never been any doubt in his mind that he’d marry another member of the sacred twenty eight. It wasn’t a matter of if, only a question of when. 

During his sixth year, his mother made her intentions very clear. Walburga Black was adamant that he begin his search for a suitable bride. Leave it to his mother to compose a list of ladies she deemed suitable to become the future Mrs. Black. Regulus was to adhere to the carefully curated roster. They were names that he’d seen a million times before. Greengrass, Prewett, Rosier. Girls he’d grown up with and inadvertently had absolutely no interest in. 

Still, his mother was insistent so Regulus complied. He took the girls out on dates. The formula was rather simple: dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town followed by a walk around the city square in which he offered to buy his date a dessert like the proper gentleman his mother raised him to be. Despite the fact that Regulus had the entire process down to a science, the dates were always unsatisfactory. 

He was polite, of course. Opened the door, pulled out their chair, asked the appropriate level of questions to get to know his counterpart, but by the time the appetizers arrived, Regulus was on the verge of stabbing himself with the butter knife just to rouse himself from boredom. 

Regulus placed no blame on the girls. They were only doing what their families had raised them to do. Sit pretty, chew gracefully, agree with his opinions. All while wearing breakneck heels and a smile to boot. It was all terribly fucked up, but this was the world they lived in. 

The more he went on these dates, the more he realized that he didn’t want some pretty, docile wife. What he truly needed was someone who was willing to challenge him, to call him out on his bullshit, to argue with him when his own stubbornness prevented him from seeing reason. Regulus came to the horrible, earth-shattering realization that he probably wouldn’t find a woman like that on his mother’s list. 

As he walked back from another mind numbing date, Regulus grappled with this newfound dilemma. He didn’t want to endure another one of these disastrous dates. He didn’t want to sit through an entire meal making small talk. He definitely didn’t want to disappoint another girl by not kissing them at the end of the night. 

It wasn’t like any of them liked him anyways. Though they loved the idea of Regulus Black, he was quite certain that they wouldn’t afford the same affections to Reggie—the real and true version of himself. The one that Sirius often said Regulus kept in a neatly locked cage.

He wished he could be more like his brother. Sirius had always been the brave one. It was that infamous Gryffindor boldness that prompted his older brother to rebel against his family’s expectations. Instead of heeding to their mother’s ridiculous list, Sirius chose to date Remus in open defiance to Walburga’s orders. It resulted in him getting kicked out of 12 Grimmauld Place and burned off the family portrait, but Sirius didn’t seem to mind one bit.  

In a lot of ways, Regulus envied his brother. Sirius had the guts to stand up for himself. He wasn’t burdened by the crippling pressure of pleasing their mother. In all honesty, Reggie wondered if such a thing was even achievable. As he brooded, Regulus found himself on the shores of the Black Lake. His body had taken him here on autopilot. It was his only place of refuge in the castle. 

Regulus paced the rickety wooden dock. His mind was working so fast, so many thoughts spinning in his head, that it felt like he might work himself up to a fit. This has always been his problem. Sirius often said that he lived in his head too much. He frowned, trying and failing to get ahold of himself. For once, he wished he could just shut his brain off entirely.

Just then, Regulus felt a drop of water hit his head. He looked up and found dark, gray clouds hovering over the horizon. The stormcloud broke open and unleashed torrential rain all around him. Fucking fantastic. The world truly couldn’t give him a bloody break, could it? 

With a sigh, Regulus began making his way back. The ground was sodden underneath his feet, his boots sinking into the sand and dragging behind his black coat. The waves lapped violently across the shore as the wind lashed against the murky waters. Regulus was almost at the edge of the beach when he spotted you. 

A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Regulus stopped dead in his tracks. There, at the mouth of the Black Lake, in the middle of the pouring rain, stood a girl with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. 

Regulus was fairly certain that you had History of Magic together. He sat behind you in class, passed by you in the halls, even reached for the same book in the forbidden section of the library once, but Reggie had never once seen that smile. The gravity of it threatened to knock the very breath from his lungs. 

There was something carefree about you. The way you spread your arms, tilted your head back, and laughed in the midst of the rain and thunder. Almost like you were welcoming the storm. 

It was only when your eyes locked that Regulus realized he was staring. You cocked your head at him, trailing your gaze from the curls plastered against his cheek to the nice button down and freshly pressed trousers that were now soaked from the rain, down to the shiny leather boots that were now digging into the sand. You seemed amused at the sight of him.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Regulus snapped out of his daze and jogged over to you. Without hesitation, he raised his coat over your head to shield you from the rain even though you were already both drenched. 

“What are you doing out in the rain?” Regulus asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “You’ll catch a cold.” 

You stepped out of the refuge of his expensive looking coat and held your hand out, catching droplets in your palm. “I don’t mind. I just…I just needed to feel the rain on my skin, that’s all.”

You supposed it must’ve seemed strange to him, but the rain always made you feel better. Lately, life had been just a little too overwhelming. There was so much pressure to do well in classes, to hang out with friends while balancing your clubs and sports, as well as making time to write back to your parents. When it all became a bit too much, you tended to come to the Black Lake for some sort of refuge. The rain was just an added bonus. 

If Regulus found your behavior bizarre, he didn’t say. Instead, he just smiled softly. “Well, you got your wish. It’s soaked out here.” 

“I know,” you responded with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

“Standing out in the pouring rain? On a beach where lightning can strike me down at any second? Yes, it’s absolutely splendid.”

Your mouth quirked in amusement. “No one’s telling you to stay out here.” You nodded towards the castle. “You’re more than welcome to take your brooding inside where it’s warm and dry. Not to mention, free of the dangers of lightning strikes, which are extremely rare by the way.” 

“With my luck, I might be the poor one in a million git who gets torched while getting insulted by a pretty girl.” 

“Did I insult you?’ you quipped back. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You accused me of brooding.” 

“I didn’t accuse, I stated. Even the Wizengamot would have to rule that you were, in fact, brooding.” 

Regulus raised a brow. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?” 

“Unfortunately, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict is set. You, Regulus Black, have been sentenced for glaring at the Black Lake so menacingly that even the giant squid refuses to come to shore. Off to Azkaban you go.” 

“Do you promise to write me letters? Update me of how the world’s progressed without my dazzling presence?” 

“It would be my genuine pleasure.” 

Regulus chuckled at your dry humor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered like this with anyone, much less with a strange not-so-stranger. You sat down on the wet sand and patted the spot beside you with a grin.

“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about your troubles.” 

Beyond the bleak horizon, the spires of the castle peeked through the gray clouds. Regulus thought of the common room where his housemates would no doubt be gathered around the ornate fireplace for warmth. Knowing his friends, they’d probably be indulging in spiked hot chocolate and playing some childish drinking game. A few minutes ago, nothing appealed to him more, but now Regulus found himself choosing the violent rain and soggy sand. All because of you, his mystery girl.

You leaned back on your elbows and cocked your head at him. “What ails you, Mr. Black?” 

“That depends. How much do you bill per hour?” 

“Fortunately for you, I’m in a generous mood so I’ll throw in a free session. Consider it my pro-bono work.” 

“How kind of you,” Regulus said with a serious expression. “My brother’s been nagging me to see a mind healer for years. All that childhood trauma, you know.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips, revealing a set of dimples that he found rather charming. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

“My brother is Sirius. I’m Regulus, remember?” 

You snorted in a very unladylike manner, which only made Regulus grin. There was something so unapologetically you in your laugh that was absolutely endearing to him. Regulus smiled and knocked his shoulder against yours. 

You mimicked the action and smiled back at him. “All sarcasm aside, I was being genuine. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

"Do you often offer therapy sessions to complete strangers?"

"Only to surly Slytherins with sad eyes and pretty curls," you quipped back. "And we're not strangers. I sit behind you in potions. We're practically best mates."

"You think my curls are pretty?"

"Like a little cherub's. Are you quite sure you haven't escaped from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? You look like one of Michelangelo's angels. Except with way more scowling." Regulus grinned. He got the feeling that you always said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was refreshing. "There's a smile. See? Our session is already progressing."

"I think you might get more than you bargained for with me, I'm afraid."

You met the challenge in his words head on. "Try me."

“You were right. I’m definitely guilty of brooding.” 

“What happened?” 

Regulus hesitated for a moment. He had never been the type of person to be candid with his feelings, especially not with someone he barely knew. Usually, he just kept his thoughts to himself and ruminated on them in the privacy of his dorm until he drove himself mad by overthinking, but your presence brought him an unexplainable ease. For once in his life, Regulus chose not to question it. 

“I’ve had a long night,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I just got back from a date.” 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“It was…fine. It’s always fine. But it’s the same thing over and over again, just with a different girl.” 

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a playboy, Regulus Black.”

Regulus chuckled. “I’m not some unscrupulous rake, I assure you.” 

“Yes, that much is obvious from your use of the word unscrupulous.” You tucked your legs underneath you. “So why go on all of these dates if you find them so tedious?” 

“It’s my mother,” Regulus explained. “She has this list.” 

“A list?” 

“Yes, a list of girls that I’m to court. Noble, pureblooded, proper ladies of society that my mother has deemed worthy of marriage.” 

“You’re seventeen years old. Shouldn’t you be worrying about quidditch games and potions exams?” 

Regulus nodded. “Yes, one would think. But my family has always been different. Since my brother left, my parents have been obsessed with grooming me into becoming the perfect heir.” 

“How do you feel about that?” 

He sighed. “Stifled. Exhausted. Smothered. I can feel the weight of their expectations weighing me down every second of every day.” 

“I’m sorry, Regulus. That’s a terrible burden to carry.” 

Regulus shrugged. “Others have it worse.” 

“It doesn’t mean that your problem is any less heavy.” 

To Regulus, the acknowledgement felt oddly validating. Even though you knew nothing of his circumstance, there was wisdom in your words and you delivered it delicately, like you actually cared to hear his troubles. You were devoid of the judgment he'd grown accustomed to and he found that rather freeing.

“It’s just…sometimes I think that I’ll never be the perfect son. My brother, he’s always been the brave one. Classic Gryffindor,” he said with an eye roll. You chuckled, but stayed silent. It was obvious that Regulus had a myriad of thoughts to unpack tonight and you were more than happy to just listen. “Sirius has never cared what anyone thought about him, least of all our parents. I admire that about him, but I just don’t think I’m wired that way. I care too much.” 

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you said softly. “Apathy is so common nowadays, finding someone who can admit that they care is refreshing. Though, I think it’s not without limits. You can’t please everyone. No matter what you do, someone is going to have something to complain about. You might as well be yourself.” 

“That’s exactly the problem,” Regulus pondered. “All of these girls on my mother's list, I think they like the idea of Regulus Black, but he’s an illusion. It isn’t the real me.” 

“Then who is the real you?” 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just Reggie. I like playing quidditch and reading depressing literature and memorizing obscure history facts. I hate messy rooms and orange juice and anything that crawls.”  

You smiled. “And what kind of girl does Reggie like?” 

“Someone witty. Someone funny. Someone who’ll argue with me. Someone who doesn’t just nod and agree with everything I say."

"So what you're saying is that you don't want a nice girl?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, I think I need someone who challenges me. Who sees me for who I am rather than what I represent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the girls on my mother’s list are lovely, but I don’t think they’d actually like me if they knew who I really am.” 

“I don’t know, Reggie seems like a great guy. That Regulus bloke, on the other hand…” you scrunched your nose in disapproval. 

“Hey!” Regulus chided, “I’m pouring my heart out to you. That took a lot of courage, you know.” 

“You’re very brave, Reggie,” you said with a grin. “But you know what would be even braver?” 

Regulus squinted in the rain as you stood to your feet. Lightning crackled over the horizon, illuminating you with an ethereal silver glow. You held out your hand to him. “Come dance with me.” 

“Deathly afraid of being struck by lightning, remember?” 

“Sorry, what?” You asked as you shimmied around him. It wasn’t graceful by any means. It was the goofiest thing he’d ever seen and yet he’d never been so enthralled. You danced without a care in the world and it made him genuinely laugh. “I can’t hear you over all the fun I’m having.” 

"This is ridiculous," he said over the roaring thunder.

You shrugged. "Perhaps. But everyone's allowed to be a little ridiculous sometimes. Besides, I was asking Reggie not Regulus."

“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into dancing with you?” 

“That depends,” you replied with a cheeky smile. “Is it working?” 

Regulus conceded with a sigh and leapt to his feet. The youngest Black brother bowed like a proper gentleman. “May I have this dance, my lady?"

“You may, good sir.” 

You grinned up at him as he took you by the waist and waltzed with you across the sand. Surprisingly, Regulus let you take the lead. He chuckled when you stepped on his toes and laughed even harder when you tried to twirl him. Towering a good foot over you, Regulus had to fully crouch for the maneuver to work. 

Finally, you gave up the formality and just spun around in dizzying circles. There was absolutely no rhyme or rhythm to it. Just two idiots dancing in the rain with the biggest smiles on their faces. 

Your coordination, or lack thereof, caused you to almost faceplant into the sand. Regulus yelped as you took him down with you. By the time you recovered from the laughing fit, the two of you were red-faced, out of breath, and laying side by side along the shore. He turned over to you and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“That was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“See? There’s more to life than just being moody and melancholic.” 

“So this mystery girl of mine keeps reminding me,” Regulus said with a smile. “You never told me your name, by the way.” 

“Wow, you don’t even know my name? I’m offended, Reggie. We’ve only been in classes together since fifth year.” 

“I—we’ve never been introduced—” 

You broke out into a smile and giggled. You thought it was cute that Reggie was so easily flustered. “I’m just kidding, Reggie.” 

He sighed in relief as you stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.” 

Regulus slipped his hand into yours. He cocked his head, studying your eyes and your smile and those cute little dimples. 

Y/N. The last name on his mother’s list. The one he saved for last because he didn’t know who she was. 

The French had a saying—le coup de foudre. The infamous phrase translated to a bolt of lightning or love at first sight. Regulus had long dismissed it as flowery prose, but thanks to his mystery girl, he started to think that maybe the Parisians were onto something because meeting you tonight felt preordained. A date with fate. Like a bolt of lightning streaking through his dark, endless skies.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

You grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Reggie.” 

Regulus smiled and laced your fingers together. He was frozen, it was raining, and he was fairly certain that you were both probably going to catch a cold, but he didn’t care. In that moment, as he stared up at the sky, blinking back the rain, and intertwining his fingers with yours, Regulus had never felt more content. 

So no, Regulus did not believe in love at first sight, but love at second, third, and even fourth glance? He smiled a little as he gazed back at you, letting his gaze linger as he drank in that infectious laugh and sunny grin. 

You made him think that maybe, just maybe, a girl like you could convert a skeptic like him into a devout believer.

[pseudowho]

Thinking about...

...long-term 'too comfortable' relationships with the JJK guys, when all the weird/gross/silly things creep in.

Pinning Gojo Satoru against a wall, having spotted an enormous pimple on his chin that you just have to get: "there's nothing wrong with m-- how dare you-- ow ow ow get off me--" "don't be such a melt, Satoru, keep still, that absolutely cannot stay on your face--"

Sitting on the toilet and chatting with Nanami Kento while he showers, and he wordlessly hands you a fresh toilet roll from the cabinet while he brushes his teeth; "thank you Kento" "mmmmmhm" and you continue chatting while you pee, leaving the bathroom door open. You forget to get off the toilet, so he brings you your tea there, while you continue to tell him about your day.

Laughing at Geto Suguru as he steps out of the bathroom after a bit of manscaping; "no no no-- go and get your razor, you're all patchy" "ah shit, really?" "yeah, you look like you've got a really bad gardener" "at least I try to trim the hedges..."

Plucking Fushiguro Toji's back hairs out one at a time; "OW-- dammit woman, stop doin' it like you hate me--" "--look, if you keep getting hairier, I'll just wax you instead, you're such a bear--" "--alright alright, I'll get your little witchy chin hair after--" "hey!"

Calling out to Okkotsu Yuuta while you're stuck on the toilet, blood over your hands and panties; "hey, Yuuta! Can you grab me some new underwear, and a pad?" "Sure!" Yuuta shuffles back to you, unfazed, as you hand him your bloodied panties to put in the laundry basket, "that bad, huh? You got enough stuff to last you?" "actually, I might need you to run to the shops..."

Creeping up behind Zenin Maki while she washes her bras in the sink, dropping a few of your own ones in, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek; "hey, hey, I'm not your washer woman" "yeah you are, such a beautiful washer woman" "psh...you're doing them next time"

Takuma Ino smiling as you curl on the sofa beside him in slummy old pyjamas full of holes (an ancient t-shirt of his, joggers you've had for at least ten years...), and you let out a fart; "sorry, sorry..." "don't be, I know you can do better than that" and Takuma lets one rip himself, sighing with relief.

Dropping your toothbrush down the toilet at Higuruma Hiromi's house; "ah, shit!" "oh, damn...just use mine" "eurgh, I'm not doing that!" "darling, be reasonable, I eat your pussy, we share much more--" "that's different--" "well by all means then, my love, enjoy your toilet toothbrush..."

Catching Todo Aoi taking a swig of milk out of the carton; "get a glass, jesus!" "whatever babe, it's just me and you here" "that is disgusting, unsanitary" "oh? I'll show you disgusting and unsanitary...c'mere"

When Kugisaki Nobara steps out of the bedroom, wearing your panties; "hey, they're my favourite!" "well they're my favourite too..." "yeah, on me! Get them off-- get back here--" and you dart after her, Nobara laughing as you try to pull your underwear off her, "help, help, I'm being assaulted!"

Catching Itadori Yuuji giving himself a scratch and sniff; "you absolute goblin-- go wash your hands!" Yuuji darts after you, laughing, his hand outstretched as you screech, ducking and running past him; "what, this hand? Come back baby! Where you goin'?"

Telling Fushiguro Megumi every single time you need to poop; "pause the movie! Gotta go poop," and he absolutely returns the favour, sitting on the toilet while you're taking a bath , "I'd wait...but I can't" "alright alright, just don't stink the place out" "I don't make promises I can't keep"

[katakaluptastrophy]

The ships … the ships were still full of people. I reached our hand out into space. I extended. I struggled. He said, I bit through the sun first. It’s human nature. That started things going.

Imagine being on those ships (and remember, not everyone in those ships was a nefarious trillionaire) zooming away from earth.

Maybe you've watched mushroom clouds blossoming across the face of the earth as you pulled away, the lines of communication fizzing out and going dead.

Watched...something...happen to the earth. Watched the sun flare and then flicker out.

I sliced through Venus, Mercury, Mars … by that point a couple of the tugs had already launched through the Kuiper. I had to kill Jupiter and Saturn in a fucking hurry. I reached … they blinked away from me … all I could do was hope that they’d watched what I was doing and all died from fucking terror. You and I went full fucking Hungry Caterpillar. We took Uranus … Neptune … crunched down Pluto … found every satellite and craft, reached in, crunched up all the humans, moved on.

You try to make contact with the installations as you pass - the small city on Mars, the helium-3 capture facility at Jupiter, the mines on Saturn's moons, the skeleton crew constructing the shell on Uranus, the Kuiper platform. Maybe the comms are eerily quiet. Or perhaps, you make contact for just a moment, enough time to witness what happens when god doesn't kill people "clean".

As you speed away, the rings of the gas giants burst asunder and the planets seem to desaturate, the readings go haywire as their magnetic fields suddenly destabilise. And something, oh god, something seems to slip away from each one, some absolute acid trip of horror, like some kind of writhing, fleeing ghost.

The moment I found the fleet spinning up to enter FTL, it was too late … I could only grab one of them … and you and I held it in the palm of our hand. I was in there with them. All those frightened people. All those runaway rats.

And then something physically stops one of the ships. Alarms are going off, sparks are flying, lights are flickering, and there's a horrifying sense of presence (if John feeling Alecto's presence was unremitting screaming inside his head, what does the presence of the newly combined John and Alecto feel like? Because I don't think that invovles less eldritch psychic screaming, somehow).

And then you break free, and spin off into some kind of warp of time and space, with the knowledge that you are the last humans left alive in the universe and that something truly terrible lurks on the husk of the earth.

Imagine 5000 years of that tale being passed down through humanity (that's equivalent to the time that passed between the stone age and the present day), as civilisations rose and fell across planets and systems.

And then imagine, one day, being the ship that encountered something they'd never seen before. A ship, of an entirely unfamiliar design, bearing an unfamiliar symbol: a skull. The whole ship is covered in bones. Sleek, designed, inlaid bones. Human bones.

When they hail you, you see humans, but not like you've seen before. They're dressed in strange outfits: military uniforms and robes that look like something from a textbook of the most ancient history. They're carrying swords. Swords! Many of them seem starved and sickly, as if their bodies are consuming themselves. They speak of their empire and their god in strange, archaic words - an impossibly ancient language from the earth that was - of the resurrection of the dead, of the Lord over the River, of necromancy.

And you realise that however horrifying the tales of the earth's death in fire, there are things worse than death.

[barefoot-joker]

Snake in the Garden Pt 2~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hello, everybody! And welcome to part 2 of Snake in the Garden! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I can't wait to see what you guys think. There will be a couple more parts after this one, so be on the lookout! At the end I will have a taglist of people. If you would like to be added, don't hesitate to comment. Again, I'm sorry if Lucifer is OOC. I tried my best. As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2877

Warnings: Swearing, Mental Breakdown, Forced Companionship, Possessive Tendencies, Ignoring One's Wishes

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

I sighed as I shifted in the large King sized bed. It was quite comfortable with red silk sheets, fuzzy blankets and so many pillows one could almost make an igloo. While the mattress was quite huge, I wasn’t given much room to move. Currently His Majesty had his inky black arms wrapped around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. The heat of his breath and body felt hotter than the fires of Hell. I tried to shift again but he just cuddled closer. “Just five more minutes, darling.”

“Please, Lucifer-”

“I love it when you say my name,” he purred.

“I really need to go to the bathroom. I promise I’ll come right back.”

He hummed and I shuddered as his claws lightly tapped at my hip. “I suppose I can allow it. But do be quick, I’ll miss you.”

His grip loosened and I was quick to sit up. Fast walking to the bathroom, I shut and locked the door behind me. While there was no doubt in my mind he could use some magic to open the door if he wanted to, the lock soothed some sense of protection in me. A sigh of relief escaped me as I sat on the toilet and let my hands run down my face. I didn’t really need to use the bathroom, it was just a lame excuse to get away for a few minutes. After all, it had only been a few hours since I found out my little Red was actually the Devil himself and I was being ushered into the role of Queen of Hell. I shook my head as I tried to get rid of the look of adoration he held in his eyes throughout the night. It was frightening. Silently, I played with the hem of my favorite color nightgown as I tried to think of a way out of this. 

It’s not like I could kill him. He seemed pretty agile on his feet and with magic on his side he’d be able to stop a fatal blow.

Leaving wasn’t an option either. There was palace staff everywhere, little demons with suits waiting for their master’s beck and call. The property was guarded by David and Goliath as well. Besides, I didn’t really know the layout of the castle and would just be going in blind, despite the elaborate tour I had gotten.

The final thought was to play into his game, make him believe I was in love with him. I mentally gagged. Not only did I think I wouldn’t be able to handle pretending to be a fan of his courtship, I feel he would be able to sniff out my intentions right away. He was an ancient being of many eons after all and he had a previous wife.

I looked up from my thoughts and gazed at the Victorian stained glass window in front of me. The window was able to be pulled apart in the middle as there was a latch on either side. Hold on a minute.

I got up and stalked over, undoing the golden latch quietly. Looking down, I gulped at how high up we were. The dead grass seemed miles away. Perhaps if I got a rope of some sort I’d be able to climb out? 

“Darling, are you almost done in there? It’s getting quite lonely out here.”

“C-coming!”

I quickly closed the window, flushed the toilet, and turned on the sink. Can’t have him believing I was a liar already. A few seconds later I shut off the sink and unlocked the door. Opening it, I could see Lucifer’s gaze shift towards me and a smile peeled at his lips. He patted the empty side of the bed so I slowly walked over. I peeled back the thin black curtain that surrounded the four poster bed and sat. His claws slid across the blankets and planted themselves on my thigh, his thumb rubbing the flesh tenderly. “I’ve canceled all my meetings for the day to help try and get you more situated, dear. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

“I suppose.”

I turned my head to glance at the blankets, my fingers drawing patterns being more entertaining. Suddenly a knock at the door had us both looking towards it. “Sire, breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you. We’ll be down in a few.”

“Of course, Sire.”

I heard little footsteps scurry away. “I guess that’s our cue to get up.”

He pulled back the blankets and I blushed upon seeing him shirtless and with boxers that had apples all over. I had forgotten that’s how he went to bed. He slipped past me and headed to a dark oak wardrobe across from the bed and opened it. Lucifer shifted through the various clothes before deciding on something. He brought out two hangers and laid them on the bed. One was the white suit that he wore yesterday and the other was a lacy white blouse, velvety green skirt and black boots. “I’ll admit I don’t have many options for you to wear as of right now. We’ll have to go shopping together sometime soon. I hope this will suffice for now.”

“It’s fine, thank you.”

I slid off the bed, grabbed my clothes and headed into the bathroom. I locked the door and began to strip. It took me a few minutes to do up the buttons on the blouse but once I was done I walked back into the bedroom. Lucifer was just putting on his boots while I draped my nightgown over the back of a chair. “Well don’t you just look enchanting, my dear.”

“Always the charmer, aren’t you?” “I’m just stating the truth.”

He leaned over and gave my cheek a kiss. I just huffed. “Shall we go?”

I nodded. Interlocking our arms together, Lucifer led the way to the dining room. It was quite the grand room with a chandelier hanging above the large table. The blonde pulled out my chair for me and scooted it in once I had sat. He placed himself across from me and as soon as we were situated a few castle staff came out. They placed a mug in front of each of us, a dark roast coffee smell emitting from it. Plates were put on the table as well. A couple of eggs, sausage and bacon were put in the form of a happy face, something I’m sure Lucifer had a hand in. Breakfast was quiet as the King looked over his newspaper and I poked at my food. From what I ate it was quite good, just uncomfortable with those red eyes gazing at me every once in a while. 

When the table was cleared, the two of us walked towards the Devil’s workshop. Lucifer gently pushed me into a black high backed chair as he sat on a stool on a podium. I looked at all the rubber ducks that filled the various containers spread throughout the room wondering why. Why rubber ducks? Why so many?

“I hope you don’t mind me working on my latest creation, dearest.”

“Not at all. But, um, what am I supposed to do?”

“Ah, how foolish of me! Here you are.”

A book materialized on the table in front of me and I realized it was one of my favorites. “I hope that is alright.”

I nodded and flipped it open. For a few hours our time was spent like this: him working on his latest invention and I reading. A little bit in I became a bit restless. I placed my book down and gazed around the small room. Besides the rubber ducks and table I sat at, there were other various knick knacks on bookshelves, tools hanging on the walls and some framed photos. The photos had the same three people in them: Lucifer, a beautiful blonde woman and a young blonde girl. Could that be his wife and daughter he mentioned before? “And, done!”

Lucifer spun on his stool to face me and proudly held out his creation. It was a yellow rubber duck with red music notes painted all over it. “How…interesting.”

He stood and placed the duck in my hands. “I know it may look normal, but this is no ordinary duck. Here,” he squeezed the wings and suddenly music came spilling from its beak. 

It was a romantic tune, one I didn’t recognize but sounded familiar. It sounded like a song I’d hear play from the church I’d walk past every day. “It’s music from my birth place. The tune was often played at our festivities and it just reminded me of you.”

“Well, thank you, I guess.”

I sat the duck down on the table and sighed. There he goes with the romantic gestures again. “Is it not to your liking, my love?”

“No, it's just…nevermind.”

I could feel his hands wrap around my shoulders and I tensed. “What’s wrong, Y/n? You’ve been off all day.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!”

“I want to go home. My actual home on Earth. I, I don’t belong here, Lucifer.”

I could feel tears in my eyes as I gazed down at my hands in my lap. The hands on my shoulders squoze. “You know I can’t do that, sweetie. Your place is by my side here in Hell.”

I clenched my hands and bit my lip. Anger started to slowly rise within me. I stood fast, Lucifer’s hands flying off my shoulders. “How can you decide where I belong? You’re not my father nor are you my husband. Can’t you see how much I hate it here? How much I hate you?!”

His eyes widened and I rushed out of the room. I heard him call for me but I just ignored it. Tears fell down my cheeks as I let my legs carry me throughout the palace till I reached the outside. I fell to the ground near a hand carved stone bench and let my feelings out. I truly didn’t want to be courted by the Devil and no way did I want to remain in my own personal hell. Why couldn’t things be back to normal where I could tend to my garden and have Red join me? Red, that damn snake. Why did he have to come into my life? If only I hadn’t let my kind nature tend to him, then perhaps I’d still be home. “Damn him! DAMN HIM!”

I slammed my hands on the bench and continued to cry. It felt like an eternity till all my crying had ceased and I took the time to look around. That’s when I noticed something in the overgrowth surrounding the fence on the property. I stood and made my way over, pulling at the wiry, thorny brush. My eyes widened as I saw a hole in the fence. Could this be a sign from God? Was he giving me a way out? I looked back at the palace and then back to the fence. As much as I wanted to leave now I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Lucifer was no doubt looking for me and leaving would only heighten his upset emotions. I’ll just have to keep this in mind.

I moved the brush back to how it was originally and stepped away, just in time too. One of the servants came out from the glass doors and headed towards me. “Miss Y/n, His Majesty has been looking all over for you! He’s been worried sick!”

I didn’t say anything as he gently grabbed my hand, dragging me inside. “Come along. He’ll be glad to see you in one piece.”

The next few days Lucifer and I spent walking on eggshells around each other. There was an awkward air about us as we went about our days. I suppose my outburst was the cause of it. Even with our hesitation, the demon did his best to court me. Meals were spent in each other’s presence at close proximity, gifts of flowers, rubber ducks and long walks around the property were fairly common, and intimacy was at an all time high. Lucifer had to have his hands on me at all times and kisses on the cheeks and forehead happened at every turn. It was about a week later that His Majesty decided it was time we went out into the city. One of the servants drove us in and the ride over I was given some guidelines. “You are to stay by my side at all times. Pentagram City is quite the dangerous place. If somebody gets too close, I will deal with it personally. Anybody that talks to you will go through me and please dear, don’t hesitate to have fun.”

I’ll try with the short leash you have on me.

The car stopped and Lucifer and I got out. He stooped to the window and whispered something to the driver before coming to my side. Interlocking our arms, we began our walk. “I thought some fresh air away from home would do us both some good, my darling. Besides, this will give us a chance to look for some clothes for you.”

I nodded. As we walked down the sidewalk I could feel a dozen stares pointed in our direction, whispers about our presence floating amongst the civilians. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind but with all the gawking I felt a bit shy. As we passed by an ornate window display, he stopped suddenly. “This seems right up your alley, sweetie.”

He pulled us inside the store. We stood at the entryway and I couldn’t help but gaze at the various clothes. It seemed this shop was more on the posh end, with skirts, dresses and fancy blouses decorating the mannequins. The store itself was a bit busy as customers wandered, but as soon as we entered all eyes were on us. I did my best to shrink into myself while Lucifer puffed out his chest in pride. “Your Majesty, welcome! How grand of you to grace us with your presence! How can we help you today,” asked a female imp in black clothes. 

“My darling here is lacking a wardrobe at home, so I thought it fit to come and look around.”

The woman looked me up and down and smiled. “I’m sure we can find something for your sweetheart. If you’d like to follow me please we can start looking at some pieces.”

I looked to the short man beside me and he just nodded in her direction. “Don’t be shy, dear.”

The two of us followed along as the imp pointed out some options, Lucifer stating his opinion on each one. When we had grown quite the collection, we were led to the fitting rooms in the back. The King perched himself on a plush bench as I stepped into one of the smaller rooms. As I was getting dressed, I heard a phone going off. The circus ringtone rang throughout the store until it stopped when the person picked up. “Charlie, sweetie, how are you?”

I stopped upon hearing Lucifer’s voice. “That’s great to hear. You and Maggie had a good date the other night? Wonderful. How have things at the hotel been? Any recent sinners looking to be redeemed?”

Redeemed? I scooted closer to the curtain to listen in. “I see. Heaven is giving you a hard time, eh?”

Heaven? “What am I up to? Oh your old man is just taking a stroll through town. Listen Charlie, I am quite busy at the moment. How about I give you a call later, okay? Alright sounds good. Buh bye. How’s it going in there, Y/n?”

I stepped out and a smirk rested itself on his face. “My, my. Don’t you look lovely. You know, if we were back at home I don’t think I could hold myself back from ravishing you.”

I felt a shudder go up my spine. Gross!

“I like that blouse on you. It brings out your eyes very nicely. How about trying some more on for dear ole Luci?”

“O-okay.”

I slammed the curtain shut and let myself gag at what he had said earlier. How very forward of him. Now about this hotel…maybe this could be my ticket out of here. 

“Lucifer?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Oh, that was my daughter Charlie!”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a great relationship with her?”

“I don’t, but we’re working on it. I’m helping her with her little passion project.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Gotcha.

“The Hazbin Hotel. She believes she can solve Hell’s population problem by getting sinners redeemed into Heaven. I honestly don’t see the point, but if helping brings us closer together then I’ll be there for her.”

“I see.” Perhaps if I went the Princess of Hell could get me back to Earth!

After I had tried everything on, we went to the checkout counter and bought a few pieces. I carried the bags back to the car and the whole time I brewed up a plan on how to escape.

~~~~

TAGLIST

@ladymothbeth @cosmic-spider @l0vedoe @stormz369 @strawberry-gothic @repostingmyfavs

[sansaorgana]

— FOREVER BOUND

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — You and Mairon were created together by Eru and ever since you remained nearly inseparable. He chose to follow Melkor but you stayed loyal to your gods. Even though he was believed to be slain, you meet your soulmate once again many years later in Númenor where you serve the Valar by helping Tar-Míriel with your counsel.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I started writing this fic like two weeks ago but I got distracted in the meantime with different ideas 🤧 (Y/N) is used here as the Reader's "real" name, therefore I gave her human form in Númenor a name and that is Maneth, which apparently means Departed Spirit. The dynamic between Sauron and the Reader is lowkey inspired by that quote from Wuthering Heights – He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Also, I was very fixated on making the short prologue of this fic sound like it was taken from The Silmarillion but it was a challenge, especially when English is not my first language, so yeah, I have to admit I used "the chat" a bit to help me in the beginning (and only there) 🙈. It didn't write even a single sentence for me, though, it only helped me with reshaping the phrases to sound more like the way I wanted them to be. I have never used AI to help me write my fics, so I feel a bit weird with it but I think the prologue sounds great now, so I decided to keep it this way. However, I wanted to admit to it here because I would feel bad otherwise. Once more – "the chat" did not write even a single sentence for me. I only needed its help with finding better sounding phrases to express what I have already written all by myself and it was only for the short prologue of the story. I didn't put any warnings but I think that – if you squint – it can have a bit of a twincest vibe...? 😳 At least I thought so while writing some scenes but maybe it's just my messed up mind going into such places 🙈 The fic is quite long but I didn't want to divide this one into two parts.

WORD COUNT — 7,930

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FOREVER BOUND

Together were they fashioned by the thought of Eru Ilúvatar, Mairon and (Y/N), kindred spirits among the Maiar, and thus were their fates entwined. Mairon was drawn to Aulë the Smith, whose lore of crafting and forging he learned with eager mind, while (Y/N) was taken under the care of Varda Elentári, the Queen of Stars, and to her was revealed the mysteries of light and the heavens.

In those days of ancient bliss, when the first flowers were made to bloom, Mairon would gather their blossoms for (Y/N), and together they would abide for hours in fields unmarred by shadow. Often, he would craft jewels of wondrous beauty, offering them to her in token of his affection. Yet his most treasured gift to her was a ring, fair and unmarred, crafted in the purity of his early days, before his spirit turned to darker counsel.

It is said that (Y/N) wore that ring ever upon her hand, and that when Varda revealed to her the art of setting stars in the firmament, she bestowed the first star of her own making with the name «Mairon», that his light might endure forever.

In the later days, when Mairon fell to the shadow and allied himself with Melkor, he sought ever to draw (Y/N) to his side, weaving words of guile and repentance. Many times did he deceive her, and she, moved by their bond, hoped he might yet be redeemed. Yet she held fast to the Valar, and her faith remained unbroken.

Mairon's descent brought sorrow unending to (Y/N), and often she pleaded with the Valar to grant him mercy. Yet Varda would have her no longer as a disciple, for the brightness of her spirit had dimmed, and her heart clung still to one who had been corrupted. Then Nienna, She Who Weeps, took pity upon (Y/N) and took her into her care, teaching her of endurance and grief. And it was Nienna who spoke in favour of Mairon when Melkor, feigning humility, sought pardon from the Valar, for she understood well the love that bound (Y/N) to him.

Yet no reunion came to pass, for Mairon fled from the wrath of the Valar, and he vanished into the shadows of the world, so that some claimed him slain. The star that bore his name faded from the heavens, and it is told that (Y/N) wept until her tears filled a lake in The Southlands, and thus was the dark and bitter Lake Núrnen brought into being, a testament to her sorrow.

You were sent to Númenor to aid the Queen Regent with your counsel. Míriel suspected that you were no ordinary human being but she knew better than to ask too many questions. Very quickly you were promoted in her council, which was visibly making Ar-Pharazôn uneasy and suspicious of you because you had shown up out of nowhere one day, posing to be a noble Lady from Middle-earth… but who truly knew where you were coming from? 

The fate of this beautiful island given to the ancestors of these people was uncertain, though. It was teetering between glory and ruin. You were there to make sure they would choose the right path when the time of difficult decisions would come.

When you heard that one of the captains brought a She-Elf to Númenor that he had found in an open sea, you knew immediately that it was no coincidence. It was surely the very beginning of something new. Something exciting and worrying, too.

The time you had already spent in Númenor was enough for you to fall in love with the island and its people. The Queen Regent was truly your friend and you hoped for nothing else but for this realm’s happiness.

You were standing next to Míriel when Captain Elendil walked two castaways inside the hall. She-Elf you recognised immediately because it was Lady Galadriel. She, however, could not recognise you because of your disguise. At the sight of a dirty, ragged common man walking beside her, you felt an odd shiver going down your spine.

You looked down, nervously, when he looked up to meet your gaze. Your fingers busied themselves with a ring that decorated your finger for long centuries now – it would never leave you, no matter what form you were in.

You could not understand why some random human was making you feel such odd sensations as if the air between you two vibrated and caused disruption inside the room.

“No one kneels in Númenor,” the Queen Regent announced to Lady Galadriel and her new friend when they attempted to do so.

Out of curiosity that you seemed not to be able to stop, you looked up again when the man did the same. Your eyes met and you could barely contain yourself because the soul trapped inside the form you were in was about to explode.

He was no ordinary human being and you wondered if Lady Galadriel knew about it.

Who could it be, though? The Valar would not send any help for you here without warning you beforehand. Even if they would, no other Maia was able to make you feel this extraordinary way. 

No other Maia except for one.

The fingers fidgeting with your ring squeezed it tighter at the memory of Mairon. He had been long gone now and all that seemed to be left of him was that ring. Not even his star shone bright in the night sky anymore.

The only part of Mairon that still remained was not that ring, though. It was you – he would forever live inside of you like you had lived inside of him and like part of you had died the day he had been slain.

“Speak, Elf. Name thyself,” Míriel ordered Lady Galadriel and Galadriel’s eyes found yours. She tilted her head but decided not to comment although now you were certain that she could sense what kind of spirit you were.

“Galadriel of the Noldor,” she introduced herself. “Daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin. Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-Galad.”

The man she came with looked at her with furrowed brows before deciding to introduce himself as well.

“Halbrand,” he said. “Of The Southlands,” he added.

“A man and an Elf, together?” You asked as you approached the Queen Regent.

“Circumstances arose that–” The man named Halbrand began but Galadriel did not allow him to finish.

“We are companions by chance. Met on the open sea. Your captain here, delivered us from certain death,” she looked at Elendil. “All we ask is that Númenor continue his mercy and grant us ship’s passage to Middle-earth.”

The crowd gathered inside the hall began to chatter between each other. It was uncommon to see an Elf in Númenor these days and Galadriel was far from humble. Her demands were not making anyone here happy and you could sense that.

The only man whose aura you could not sense was him again – the filthy commoner.

Míriel exchanged a meaningful look with Ar-Pharazôn before her cousin spoke.

“It’s been generations since a ship of Númenor was permitted to make such a journey on an Elf’s behalf,” he told the Elf, harshly.

You wondered how Galadriel would accept the fact that here, in Númenor, she was not an authority to anyone and her presence was barely intimidating. You knew her heart was of a pure kind but it was no mystery amongst the Valar, the Maiar and the Elves that she also needed to be humbled very often but such occasions were quite rare.

“It is because of the Elves that you were given this island,” she reminded but such words only worsened her situation. “Surely you can spare a few planks and a rudder.”

Míriel looked behind to stare at your face, visibly searching for your counsel. You shook your head slightly to let her know that you did not think following Galadriel’s orders was a good idea. It did not escape Ar-Pharazôn’s eye as he shot you a deadly glance. He hated the influence you had over his cousin.

“Our ancestors were not given anything,” the Queen Regent smiled softly at Galadriel as she walked down the stairs to approach the Elf and her human companion. “They paid for this isle with the blood of their kin.”

“What the Elf means–” Halbrand tried to save the situation.

“Then if blood be the price of passage, I will pay it,” Galadriel interrupted him again and you sighed softly. “But one way or another, I will depart.”

One of your tasks in Númenor was to help rebuild the friendship between the humans of this island and the Elves. Lady Galadriel was definitely not helping you.

“I welcome you to try,” Míriel nodded.

“I have no need of your welcome,” Galadriel continued with her rude remarks and Halbrand looked at her with panic in his eyes before looking back at the guards by the doors.

“And you are quickly wearing out yours,” the Queen Regent warned Galadriel. “Guards,” she called for them.

“My friends!” Halbrand exclaimed, getting everyone’s attention and you despised it.

You despised it because your weak human form struggled once more to contain your trembling spirit. You were scared that you would be this island’s doom yourself any given moment if you suddenly erupted as if you were a volcano. Your fingers began to tremble and you lowered your gaze, pretending to be humble.

“It seems to me that our leaving presents some complications,” Halbrand pointed out. “Perhaps it’d be better if we stayed–”

“Stayed?!” Galadriel barked at him.

“Long enough, good Queen, to give you and your advisors adequate time to weigh our request,” he looked up at you.

You were holding your gaze lowered but you knew somehow that he was staring at you. You could feel his eyes piercing you through because the way he was staring was not of an ordinary kind. He was not glancing at your flesh but at your soul. You felt as if you were naked in front of him and as if there was nobody else inside this palace except for you two.

The ring around your finger seemed to get heavier all of the sudden as it reminded you one more about the only creature in this world who had known you so well and who could have made you feel similar.

“A few days, perhaps?” Halbrand looked back at Míriel and you sighed out of relief once you got free from his burning gaze.

The Queen Regent looked back at you once more and you looked up only slightly to nod at her. Ar-Pharazôn rolled his eyes but he did not disagree – at least not openly.

“Three days,” he ordered. “And the Elf is to be restricted to palace grounds.”

“I will not be made a prisoner!” Galadriel protested.

“I would sooner knee-cap a stallion than seek to imprison the mighty Commander of the Northern Armies,” Ar-Pharazôn answered ironically and the crowd laughed at her. “So, you shall be Númenor’s guest.”

You could feel the tension in the room slowly relaxing and you nodded at the Queen Regent before walking out in a hurry, feeling Halbrand’s eyes on you as you were walking out in a haste with your skirts gathered in your fists, rushing to your chambers to collect your chaotic thoughts.

You had a malicious feeling creeping up deep inside of you – no, not even a feeling. An odd, eerie certainty. And as much as you wished for it to not be true, you also wanted it to be and you felt guilty for experiencing such cursed yearning to see and touch him again. Your Mairon.

When you heard from your maid at the end of the day that the human named Halbrand ended up in jail already for starting a fight, you simply could not stop yourself from paying him a visit. You walked inside the prison area of the palace carefully as you moved quietly throughout the hall with your dress flowing behind you gently.

The man was sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the wall. He was smirking as he watched you with no reaction whatsoever. Once more you noticed that you could not sense his aura or predict his mood like you usually could with most creatures, even the noblest of the Elves.

“You are no human,” you stated as you stood right in front of his cell. Halbrand snorted at that and rolled his eyes. “Who are you?” You asked and he only shook his head.

You grabbed the bars and squeezed them tightly as the silence broke due to your ring clashing with the iron. The sound echoed and Halbrand turned his head around rapidly while he squinted his eyes at your ring.

“Are you him?” You asked, nearly desperately. “Are you my Mairon?”

Halbrand stood up finally and even though he seemed to be more serious now, he still had a playful smirk on his lips. He approached you with his arms crossed and you caught yourself staring at his tan, flexed muscles before you looked up to meet his sparkling eyes once more. Nothing but the iron bars between you two and it was you squeezing them tight although he was the imprisoned one.

“You would look like a crazy maniac if I was not,” he whispered, leaning in. He was so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face.

“You were supposed to be dead…” you whispered and closed your eyes, feeling warm tears streaming down your cheeks. You squeezed your fists even tighter around the bars as your whole soul vibrated throughout your human form.

“I am sorry to disappoint you,” Halbrand answered.

“Your star has faded away, I have cried so many tears, have been outcast by Varda because with you, some of my own light faded away, too,” you revealed in a trembling voice before opening your hazy and wet eyes. He was staring at you without playfulness now. “I know it would be better for this world if you stayed dead but I feel joy to be with you again,” you confessed.

His rough fingertips brushed the ring wrapped around your finger as he smiled sadly.

“This ring remains older than most creatures of this realm,” he pointed out.

“I have never taken it off, Mairon,” you assured him. “Nothing in this world is older than the bond between us.”

“That is quite blasphemous,” he smirked and you shook your head as you had no idea what to say to that. He was right – you should not claim such things, you were no god. But yet, whatever was between you and him – it felt so overwhelming, so overlooming. 

Your souls were entangled, made of the same stardust. You were the same spirit, the same heart, the same blood; only split in two forms and that was enough pain to be apart in that way. Spending centuries without him at all, thinking he was dead… It was like death itself.

But Mairon was back now and alongside him back was the part of you that had died with him.

“Will you tell them about me, (Y/N)?” He asked, quietly.

“I should, should I not? You are up to no good,” you sniffled your tears back and your eyes met his. You let go of the iron bars and extended your hands to cup his scratched cheeks. When you touched, you felt your whole body trembling, barely able to contain your spirit and your power.

“I am up to the greater good. You know that my path is the right one; it is the only path. My only goal is to heal,” he assured you and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon the palm of your hand as you gasped.

“Up to no good then,” you let out a small chuckle through your tears. You knew him enough already to know what it meant.

You wanted to get rid of the iron bars and to kiss him. His form differed from his previous one but it was never about his flesh – it was always about whatever it contained.

You had never really kissed, though. All those centuries you had spent with each other, you had spent it on yearning and gazing at yourselves, stealing soft pecks upon your cheeks or knuckles, giving each other gifts and talking sweet to one another.

Because you knew that the Maiar had not been created to love – not like this, at least. They had not been created to know the pleasures of the flesh or its desires. They had been created to serve the gods.

Perhaps something had gone wrong during the act of your creation. Perhaps it had not – perhaps it was that part of him living inside of you that craved to be close to him at all times just like the part of you living inside of him craved to be close to you.

“Join me, (Y/N), come with me, be my Queen,” Halbrand whispered and you froze, taking your hands away immediately.

“Not even half an hour I was given to enjoy your return for you are trying to deceive me once more,” you remarked, harshly.

He had been known to tease and tempt you countless of times but your soul remained pure no matter what.

“Melkor is no more. I am my own master now but I will never be whole without you by my side,” Halbrand was the one to wrap his hands around the iron bars now as he moved even closer while you took a step back. “Varda outcasted you? I will make sure no one in Middle-earth worships her no more for you will become their Queen of Light.”

“Revenge is not what I seek,” you shook your head. “Please, Mairon, your words are like daggers. I cannot handle them,” you turned your head around as more and more of your tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Refuse me as much as you like, (Y/N). A part of you lives inside of me and that is my lightness. A part of me lives inside of you and it is the part you consider rotten. Be careful, my dear, for the rot likes to spread,” Halbrand warned you although his voice remained sweet.

“I have never considered anything coming from you to be rotten,” you laid your eyes upon him again.

“Can you not see, my sweet? They keep us apart because together we would become so powerful that we could outcast the gods themselves,” Halbrand continued and his whisper caused a shiver to go down your spine. His words were wrong… So wrong. “Together, we could be anything we wanted. We could be forged into one flesh if we wished, forever bound.”

“If you cared so much about us being together, you would let me lure you back into the light instead of trying to tempt me to join you in darkness, Mairon,” you whispered in Quenya.

“It pains me when you keep insisting that my path is the darkness. Your blind obedience to our creators is much darker to me, my love,” he answered.

Perhaps you would go on like that – and knowing you two, you could do that for ages. But you were interrupted by Lady Galadriel, who looked you up and down with curiosity as she entered the prison.

“The most trusted advisor of the Queen Regent,” she greeted you, “but the least trusted one amongst her subjects. You come from Middle-earth, they say. A noble Lady. But I have never heard of you before,” Galadriel pointed out.

“Must Elves know all about human affairs?” You challenged her and she smiled, softly.

“Human? Yes,” Galadriel answered. “There are spirits, however, that remain out of our grasp. They are no gods but nearly like them. Sent to us by the Valar when we need aid,” she squinted her eyes.

“I shall remain out of your grasp then,” you nodded and she nodded back.

“What is going on?” Halbrand whined, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms again. Putting on an act of a common man in front of Galadriel and even though you knew you should scream into her face that he was the very darkness she had sworn to fight and defeat – you chose to stay silent. Perhaps he would redeem himself, perhaps he would realise that he might be given a second chance if only he decided to choose the right path this time.

Perhaps, before outing him to the outside world, you would try to fix his way of perceiving which path was the right one.

And you knew he had been given too many chances already but your heart would never give up on him. You would forever find excuses for him and try to make it right between you two.

“You…” Galadriel approached the iron bars as she smiled softly at Halbrand. “You do not belong on this island.”

“If there’s one of us that doesn’t belong here, Elf, it’s you,” Halbrand shook his head.

“I’m not so sure of that anymore,” Galadriel’s eyes sparkled as she briefly laid them upon you. “But one thing I am now certain. You are more than you claim,” she took a step further. “I found this in the Hall of Lore,” she handed Halbrand a scroll of paper that made you squint your eyes.

He took it, pretending to be unbothered. And when he opened it, you saw a heraldry drawing, suddenly realising he was wearing a pendant with the same mark. What was the game he was playing…?

“That’s funny. I found this on a dead man,” Halbrand winked at you before he looked at Galadriel with a smirk. “Thought the pattern suited me,” he added and sat down on a bench inside his cell.

Galadriel sighed and she glanced at you, as if she was expecting you to help her. You did not move an inch, however.

“Many ages ago, a man bearing that mark united the scattered tribes of the Southlands under one banner,” she told Halbrand. “The very banner that might unite them again today. Against the evil that now seeks to claim their lands. Your lands, Halbrand,” she emphasised and you sucked on the inside of your cheeks after realising what his clever scheme was. “Your people have no King for you are him,” Galadriel kept insisting.

Your Mairon, the great deceiver, knew very well that eagerly agreeing to all of this would not be as powerful as trying to pretend to be uninterested at first. Therefore, he looked away and chuckled.

“That’s an odd thing to say to a man in a cage,” he pointed out. 

“A cage you have landed in because you chafe under the rags of the common,” Galadriel claimed as she looked at you again. “My Lady, you must tell your Queen the truth.”

“No Elf will tell me what I must or I must not do,” you smirked as you shook your head at how arrogant she was. You had to play your role but even as your Maia self, you wanted to humble her. “I doubt one pendant proves this man’s heritage enough.”

“What about his testimony?” Galadriel was not giving up as she looked at Halbrand again. “The armour that ought to rest upon your shoulders weighs upon your soul, Halbrand.”

Long silence occurred, in which you were able to watch the master of deception performing his craft. The way he kept staring at the drawing, his face full of mixed emotions and confusion, guilt. The way he grabbed the pendant with his hands and brushed it gently with his fingertips. Everyone would believe him.

“Be careful, Elf,” he said eventually. “The heir to this mark is heir to more than just nobility,” Halbrand stood up to approach the iron bars. “For it was his ancestor who swore a blood oath to Morgoth,” he reminded her and you were in awe how he used the bits of dark truth about himself to toy with her and test the waters.

And how oblivious she was, how eager to keep following the scenario she had already prepared for this situation to go with in her head.

“I am not the hero you seek,” Halbrand shook his head.

Indeed, he was not.

“For it was my family that lost the war,” he added.

“And it was mine who started it,” Galadriel insisted. “Ours was no chance meeting,” she pointed out and looked at you again. “No fate, nor destiny, nor any other words men use to speak of the forces they lack the conviction to name. Ours was the work of something greater,” she smiled at you and you forced a smile back.

Was she thinking that it was you who caused this meeting? Gods, if she only knew…

“You must see it,” she looked back at Halbrand.

“All I see is an Elf who won’t put down her sword,” he remarked.

“Come with me to Middle-earth,” she leaned in to be closer to him and you felt an odd sting of pain inside of your heart. Was it jealousy that another woman dared to stand so close to your Mairon…? Most likely. “And together we will redeem both our bloodlines.”

“How?” Halbrand asked, looking at her intensely. “You’re stuck on this island and you’re still short an army,” he smirked.

“That is all about to change,” Galadriel smiled and turned around to walk away.

You glanced at the man one last time before hurrying after her.

“Lady Galadriel!” You called out her name once you were outside the prison.

“My Lady,” she turned around to face you and you nearly bumped into her. “I did not expect to encounter an emissary of the Valar in Númenor, I must admit,” she bowed her head slightly. “How should I address you?”

“Here, in Númenor, you must call me Lady Maneth. In Valinor you would know me as (Y/N),” you introduced yourself and Lady Galadriel’s eyes widened slightly.

“(Y/N)...” She breathed out. “You know more than anyone else how important my task is. We must stop the darkness from spreading,” she pleaded.

“No,” you shook your head. “You must stop pushing this man… Halbrand… Into whatever you are trying to push him into,” you scolded her.

“Do the Valar have different plans for him?” Galadriel wondered out loud.

“It is not about him,” you winced, not wanting to discuss Mairon any longer with her. “It is about you, Artanis. You are beginning to become the very darkness you swore once to destroy,” you warned her.

“What do you mean?” Galadriel furrowed her brow as she took a step back.

“It is still cheating when one betrays a cheater. It is still a theft when one steals from a thief. And it is still a murder when one kills a murderer. Because it is not the matter of whether one deserves it or not – it is a matter of the act itself being committed. Too many pure and good souls were lost to us, driven by the desire to do justice,” you lectured her and you could feel her anger and frustration rising, however she would never dare to lash out on an emissary of the gods.

“Pretty words, that is all you can offer, meanwhile people are dying,” she spat out.

“Do you truly care about them, Artanis, or is their suffering your excuse to pick up the sword once more?” You asked but she was walking away angrily already and all you could see was her back, disappearing in the darkness of the corridor ahead of you.

You turned around once more and sighed at the doors leading back to the prison. You decided to leave Halbrand alone for the night but you worried about what would happen next. If he was about to choose the wrong path again, you would have to reveal his true self to everyone and interfere with his scheme.

Hope was all you had as you fidgeted with the ring around your finger.

“The visions are back and worse than ever,” Míriel confessed to you. “I suspect that it all has something to do with the Elf,” she added as she was trying to read your face but you made sure not to reveal anything.

“I knew that people of Númenor despised her kin but I underestimated the delicacy of the situation,” you admitted as you moved closer to the Queen Regent. “This is beyond worrying. The future of Númenor depends on your relationship with others. It is no time to make enemies instead of friends,” you warned.

“It would be an easier task to convince them that the Elves are not our enemies if only Lady Galadriel was not so…” the Queen Regent sighed, looking for the right word.

“Insufferable?” You chuckled and she nodded with a smile. “Elves differ from humans. They are not raised to be humble.”

“You know a lot about their kin,” Míriel pointed out, trying to make you confess who you truly were once more. She would never ask openly but sometimes she was teasing you this way.

“There are quite a few in the lands I come from,” you only answered.

“The lands you come from… Are they not The Southlands?” Míriel raised her eyebrows. “Like that human man?”

You took a deep breath in. If only you had known back then that your backstory would cause problems a few years later… But it was too late to change it because it would be highly suspicious.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But he is a commoner. I was a noble,” you added.

You were interrupted by Captain Elendil leading Lady Galadriel to you. She bowed her head slightly and exchanged a meaningful look with you.

“Lady Galadriel wishes for an audience,” Captain Elendil said and the Queen Regent nodded her head.

You stood still because these days she wanted you by her side always, no matter what. You did not even have to ask if you should leave or not.

“What is it?” Míriel asked when Galadriel stood on the other side of the table, facing you. She laid out two scrolls of paper in front of you – one was the same she had shown to Halbrand on the previous day and the other one was much more worn out and dirty.

“I found this in the Hall of Lore,” Galadriel informed the Queen Regent mysteriously and you allowed Míriel to see the items with her own eyes as you kept standing there with your hands clasped behind your back.

“You vex me, Elf,” Míriel looked up at Galadriel. “I welcome you as a guest and you gallop off to our countryside to steal ancient scrolls whilst your Southlander companion assaults our citizenry.”

“He is understandably quick to temper. His people are dying,” Galadriel explained.

“His people?” The Queen Regent asked, surprised.

“I believe the man you hold in your dungeons is no common brawler, but the lost heir in exile to the throne of The Southlands,” she revealed.

Míriel turned around to look at you and you raised your eyebrows slightly. You were not sure what to say to that. Should you help Mairon or interfere with his schemes? The answer was only easy for your mind but your heart wished to never cause him any trouble.

“Lady Maneth comes from The Southlands. She would know about that,” the Queen Regent informed Galadriel and the Elf looked at you, intensely.

“I cannot be sure,” you only said. “That there was a long gone line of Kings, I have known. That there are still their living descendants, I have not been aware of. That is not impossible, though,” you explained.

“His people are scattered. Leaderless,” Galadriel looked back at Míriel. “But with your backing they might unite behind his banner. And fight.”

How oblivious she was. His banner was nothing she would want to ever see floating in the air. His banner was nothing she would want to ever see people follow.

“What do you mean backing?” Míriel asked, taken aback by Galadriel’s proposal.

“Sauron was once your people’s enemy, as much as mine,” Galadriel reminded her and you moved uncomfortably. “I call on you to finish the task left undone.”

You might have hated this name more than he hated it. It brought you nothing but pain when others would address your Mairon this way – The Abhorred.

“I shall go,” you spoke, interrupting the tension between the two women. Míriel looked at you with a slight panic in her eyes because she did not want to be left alone with Galadriel but you simply could not stand being there anymore, hearing her talk about your Mairon. “I shall question that man, Halbrand. Mayhaps I will find out if he truly is what the Elf claims,” you said and Míriel nodded at you although you could sense she still felt uneasy to be left without your counsel.

You walked past Captain Elendil and went to the prison area of the palace like on the night before. Halbrand was sitting on the bench this time, with his back leaning on the iron bars. At the sound of your footsteps, he did not even flinch nor turned his head around. He did not have to. He knew it was you coming.

“Mairon…” You crouched down in front of his cell and wrapped your fingers around the bars. “Do not follow her, resist her temptation. Stay here with me.”

Halbrand turned around slowly with a playful smile on his lips as he looked down at you. You were not on your knees but it still seemed as if you were begging him.

“Stay here with you? Are you not a grand Lady on this island?” He asked.

“I can be anything I want and so can you,” you reminded him, your whisper was nearly inaudible but you did not need to speak your words out loud at all for him to hear them anyway. “We can live a lifetime here and then change our forms once more, start all over again. Over and over for the whole eternity. Far away from the rest. If I am to ever abandon my life alongside the gods, it will not be for your darkness… But it could be for this. For us.”

Halbrand stood up and the distance between you became even bigger now as he kept looking down at you with a hint of adoration mixed with pure contempt. He had to think you were pathetic and some part of him found it adorable but the other part found it embarrassing.

“It does not have to be Númenor,” you added. “We can go anywhere.”

“Let us go to The Southlands then,” Halbrand smirked. “Be the Queen alongside me.”

“You have made your decision then, I see,” you sighed and leaned in to press your forehead to the iron bars. “Will you ever love me enough to choose me over power?”

Halbrand did not like your choice of words as his eyes darkened. He crouched down as well, slowly, in a nearly threatening way. Now you were on his eye level as he looked intensely at you.

“Will you ever love me enough to choose me over your gods?” He asked.

The sound of footsteps made you stand up quickly and fix your dress. Halbrand also moved up and sat down on the bench. It was all done right in time because the guards walked inside the prison, dragging Lady Galadriel behind them. You watched with widened eyes as she was being thrown inside one of the cells.

“Don’t tell me,” Halbrand chuckled at her. “Tavern brawl?”

“Sedition,” she answered and Halbrand laughed as you gave her a scolding look.

When you joined Míriel again, she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, staring outside the window. She turned her head around to smile at you gently and then she went back to staring ahead of her.

“And?” She asked.

“He asked for my hand,” you informed her with a playful smirk and the Queen Regent turned her head around once more to look at you with wide eyes.

“The audacity…” She sighed.

“Why?” You asked her with a soft smile.

“For a commoner to propose such a thing to a Lady like you… Even if it was only to jest–”

“It was not to jest, “you interrupted her. “If he is what Galadriel claims, then he would be my King,” you pointed out and an odd feeling filled your whole body when you called Mairon your King. A malicious one but also honey-like warm; sweetly spreading throughout your body.

“You are above human Kings, are you not, Lady Maneth?” Míriel raised an eyebrow at you. It was the very first time she asked such a thing so openly.

“I cannot answer that, my friend,” you smiled at her mysteriously, “but if he chooses to follow the path Lady Galadriel pushes him onto, I might have to follow him.”

“And abandon Númenor?” The Queen Regent asked. “Abandon me?”

“I am sorry,” you sighed. “Following him might be a task much more important than watching over this island,” you revealed to her.

Even though you were not given direct orders from the gods, it was obvious that watching over Mairon was more important because keeping his schemes under control would only profit in the end for everyone, including the people of Númenor. Míriel could not be told all the details, therefore she would never understand and she would feel abandoned by you. It was the price you had to pay.

It was an excuse, of course. Choosing to follow Mairon to Middle-earth to make sure he would not go back to his evil ways and that he would use the position Galadriel was giving him to do good instead… It was nothing but a noble excuse to simply explain the fact you wanted to follow him.

It was different now, though. It was not one of those times when he had begged you to come with him, straight to Morgoth. No, this time there was a string of hope that he would truly redeem himself. And of course he would have a bigger chance to do so with you by his side.

“It seems so important… Everything happening in Middle-earth. More important than I suspected. But if even you are willing to leave my side to go back there, it means there are things happening there that are much bigger than me,” Míriel said. “I must rethink Lady Galadriel’s words now then,” she informed you and walked past you to walk away. “Just like you must rethink Halbrand’s proposal.”

“Yes, I must,” you nodded at her and looked outside the window yourself. The sun was slowly setting and the view was beautiful – you wished it would forever be like this; so peaceful and calm with pink and orange hues.

Like back in the day when you had been sitting in the flower fields with Mairon, staring at the skies, your bodies filled with no malice – only pure yearning for one another.

The orange skies of the evening sky always reminded you of his ginger hair from back then and how you would brush it with your fingers, staring in awe at how the sunlight seemed to sparkle upon it.

You were standing by the guards’ side as you watched them open Halbrand’s cell. They nodded at him and he nodded back. The guards left you with him alone and an awkward silence occurred between you two.

“There, you have it your way,” you finally said, quietly.

“You must have missed me terribly,” he crossed his arms and chuckled but you did not want to laugh.

Your eyes filled with tears immediately at the mention of all those centuries you had spent thinking he was gone forever. You lifted your wet, glistening eyes to lay them on his and he clenched his jaw as he moved slightly while all playfulness left his expression.

“Do you know why I could not be killed?” Halbrand approached you to cup your chin and you shook your head. “Because of the part of me still living inside of you. As long as you are alive, I cannot be slain,” he explained. “However, the part of you that lives within me had to suffer for all those centuries alongside me and there is not a day passing when I do not regret causing you such pain.”

“Oh, Mairon…” You gasped and threw your arms around his neck to pull him closer and hug him.

However, he had something else on his mind. He blinked slowly a few times and cupped your cheeks now with his rough hands as he leaned in to join your lips together.

For the first time in your immortal life, you finally found out how sweet his lips were. And gods, how good they felt… How right. Your souls intertwined at that moment, every missing piece finding its place as if you were forged into one body.

“Before we were created, we had been a piece of stardust in the abyss and we had been one flesh then, of that I am sure,” Mairon whispered after breaking the kiss. “I should have kissed you much earlier, my love, for I have never felt so whole before.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I am glad you are kissing me only now,” you added and he raised an eyebrow at you. “For if you had kissed me like that back in the day, I would have followed you into corruption straight away. I would have worn black armour forged out of iron and I would have become Morgoth’s most zealous Lieutenant by your side – only to feel your lips on mine again,” you confessed.

Just when you finished voicing out your blasphemous feelings, Halbrand’s lips kissed you once more. This time he lowered his hands to intertwine your fingers with his. You felt him smirking when he felt the ring on your finger brushing his skin.

“Let us get married. Straight away,” he breathed out. “You are wearing my ring already. You have worn it for all eternity.”

“It would be only fair if you wore something from me as well. Something to mark you as my own like I am yours,” you pointed out.

“What would it be, my sweet?” Mairon caressed your cheek and you smirked at him a little before you reached out to the back of your neck.

You had prepared your gift for him this very morning when you already knew he would be released. There was a pendant around your neck, hidden under your dress. You took it off now and handed it to him as he slightly moved away at the sight of it.

It was a beautiful pendant surely although you made sure it would not look too feminine, so he would wear it at all times. However, what it contained inside was what truly intimidated him – it was a small portion of your light that you had sacrificed to lock in there. Wearing it could save his soul, of that you were sure. But in his eyes it surely was a form of imprisonment.

“Have you not sacrificed enough of your light for me already?” Mairon asked.

“Never enough. I shall sacrifice as much of it as I can to save you, my love,” you insisted and pushed the necklace into his open hand as you closed it around the pendant.

Mairon forced a smile as he swallowed thickly and opened his hand again to stare at the necklace before slowly putting it around his neck and hiding it under his tunic.

“Thank you,” he whispered in Quenya and you smiled back at him, encouragingly.

It had been ages since you last wore armour. Lately, the Valar had been using you more as a politician than a warrior but you still remembered the wars you had taken part of. Back then you had been on the opposite side of the field from Mairon but now you were by his side, riding your horse next to his as people of Númenor were throwing flowers at you. 

You took a deep breath in when it was time for you to jump off of your mare. What you were about to do would be equal to making a final decision about your fate – leaving Númenor meant forsaking the task that had been given to you by the Valar. However, you wanted to believe that they would value your new task even more; the one you had given to yourself. To watch over Mairon and make sure no one would know him as Sauron ever again.

He helped you to get on the ship and when you held his hand tight and he grinned at you, your heart filled with love and warmth. There was, however, a hint of worry because you knew what a skilled deceiver he could be. 

To become the King and Queen of The Southlands and to erase the darkness from that long-forsaken land was your shared goal now. Or so he had been promising you. To unite the tribes of that realm and to make sure they had a bright future. And once your mortal forms would become old enough, you would abandon or transform them to start a new life somewhere else. To heal more and more lands, more kins. 

You wanted to believe the healing would be done in the right and proper way this time because now he had you by his side.

Your new husband and an old companion smirked at you and squeezed your cheek playfully before turning around to join Captain Elendil to speak to him as the ships sailed out of the harbour. Lady Galadriel stood next to you instead and she glanced at you from the corner of her eye.

“I know it is not my right to ask about the ways of the Valar and the Maiar but why would a spirit like you marry a human and abandon the task originally given to her?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“The road goes ever winding,” you answered her. “Not even the Valar or the Maiar can see all its paths.”

“Your devotion to this cause makes me believe I was right to fight so eagerly for this to happen,” she said and you smiled to yourself. She was so desperate.

“You are right, Artanis. It is not your right to know about the ways of my kind,” you patted her shoulder and gave her a faint smile as she nodded, staring into the horizon.

You looked there, too, but your mind was absent. You were scared and unsure – some part of you nearly wanted to be as blind as Lady Galadriel because she seemed to be so certain and fearless.

You turned around and realised that he was looking at you already. And at that moment, he looked like the Maia he had been created as – so pure with that wide smile and the sun shining behind him, creating a halo around his form. He looked handsome as ever in Númenorian armour, so different from the one he had been wearing as Morgoth’s Lieutenant. 

You gave him a wide smile back, so full of love and devotion. Perhaps his star would begin to shine in the night sky once more.

MASTERLIST

[novaursa]

Legacy (but you will fly)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Note: Some events and timeline don't match canon plot.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: under lion's gaze

- Next part: winter is coming

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @luniaxi

The wind howled through the craggy cliffs of Casterly Rock as you stood before the gaping maw of the old mine entrance, its shadow swallowing the light. The air around you was heavy, carrying with it the scent of damp stone and something older—something ancient, as if the earth itself had secrets waiting to be uncovered. Behind you, a group of Tywin’s guards stood at attention, their hands resting on their sword hilts, their expressions tense.

Tywin himself stood a few paces back, his face carved from stone. His green eyes, sharp as flint, were fixed on you as though willing you to change your mind. The wind tugged at the crimson Lannister cloak draped over his shoulders, the only movement in his otherwise immovable stance.

“You’re certain about this?” Tywin’s voice was low, measured, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “I have to do this, Tywin. He’s waiting for me.”

“And what if he’s not?” Tywin shot back, his tone clipped. “You’re walking into a cavern that hasn’t been stable in years, and after that, you’re putting yourself at the mercy of a dragon.”

“He came here for me,” you replied calmly, though your heart beat like a drum in your chest. “If there’s anyone he’ll listen to, it’s me.”

Tywin took a step forward, his gaze narrowing. “I will not stand here while you disappear into the dark and risk yourself for—”

“For what, Tywin?” you interrupted, turning fully to face him. Your voice was steady, though there was a fire in it now. “This is something I was born to do. You’ve always valued pragmatism over pride. Well, now I ask you to trust me and let me do what must be done.”

Tywin’s jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he studied you. You could see the internal war on his face—the struggle between his need to control every piece on the board and the realization that, this time, he couldn’t.

“You will not go alone,” he finally said, his tone hard as iron.

You shook your head resolutely. “No. You and your men will stay here. If you come after me, you’ll only provoke him. Viserion will sense your intentions, and that will endanger us all.”

Tywin’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “You’re asking me to stand idle while you disappear into that pit.”

“I’m asking you to trust me,” you said, softer this time, stepping closer to him. “This is something only I can do. The dragon is part of me, Tywin—just as this place is part of you. You taught me to value reason, and reason tells me that this connection cannot be ignored.”

Tywin exhaled sharply, his gaze intense as it bored into yours. Finally, after a long silence, he gave a small nod. “If you do not return in one hour, I will send men after you.”

“Agreed,” you said, though you had no intention of needing rescue.

The silence lingered between you for a moment longer, but then Tywin’s hand lifted, his gloved fingers brushing your arm—a rare, silent gesture of his concern. “Be careful,” he said, his voice softer than you expected.

You offered him a faint smile, your fingers briefly grazing over his hand. “I will.”

Turning back toward the mine, you steeled yourself as the shadows yawned before you. The guards muttered among themselves, exchanging uneasy glances as they watched you cross the threshold. The sound of your boots against the stone echoed hollowly as you descended into the darkness.

With each step, the light from the entrance dimmed further, replaced by a deep, oppressive silence. You pressed forward, your hand grazing along the cold, rough walls of the mine. Faint echoes of dripping water reached your ears, the sound almost rhythmic in the stillness.

The further you went, the stronger the feeling became—an energy humming in the air, ancient and alive. It was as if the earth itself whispered to you, beckoning you closer. The temperature shifted as you ventured deeper, the air growing warmer, the scent of smoke faint but unmistakable.

“Viserion,” you whispered into the dark, the sound of his name swallowed by the vastness of the cavern.

A low, rumbling growl reverberated through the mine, the walls seeming to vibrate with the force of it. Your breath caught in your throat, but you forced yourself to press on. A faint glow appeared ahead, flickering and dancing like firelight. You rounded a corner, and there he was.

Viserion.

The dragon lay curled in a vast chamber at the heart of the mine, his cream-and-gold scales reflecting in the dark. His massive wings were folded against his sides, and his golden eyes snapped open the moment you entered. The glow of molten fire flickered deep within them as he lifted his head, nostrils flaring as he caught your scent.

“Viserion,” you said again, your voice calm and soothing despite the thunderous pounding of your heart. “It’s me.”

The dragon let out a low rumble, the sound vibrating through your chest as he uncurled, his massive form rising. The light of his scales lit the chamber, and as he stepped closer, his hot breath washed over you.

You raised your hands slowly, palms open, just as you had done the first time. “I know you came here for me,” you whispered. “I’m here now.”

Viserion’s head dipped low, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, it felt as though the world fell away—there was only you and the dragon, your breaths mingling as you stood together in the heart of the earth.

Slowly, tentatively, you reached out your hand, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the rough texture of his snout. Viserion stilled, the fire in his eyes dimming to something softer, something familiar.

“I understand now,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of his breathing. “You were leading me here. To what? To why?”

Viserion let out a soft growl, pressing his snout more firmly into your touch. The warmth of his presence filled you with an indescribable calm, as though the dragon itself was reassuring you that this was only the beginning.

The entrance to the mines stood like a dark, gaping maw in the earth, its shadow stretching long across the worn ground. Tywin stood a short distance from it, arms crossed over his chest, his posture rigid as a blade. His green eyes, cold and unyielding, remained fixed on the opening, as though his focus alone might summon you back from the depths.

Around him, soldiers shifted uneasily, their hands never straying far from their weapons. Despite the orders to remain calm, the whispers among the men refused to die down. Words like dragon and curse passed from one mouth to another, carried on the wind like a contagion.

Lord Mace Tyrell, never one for silence, paced restlessly nearby, his ornate cloak dragging behind him, dirtied from the long ride. He looked toward the mine entrance with growing unease, as if expecting Viserion’s colossal form to emerge at any moment.

“This is madness, Lord Tywin,” Mace muttered, finally breaking the strained silence. His voice lacked its usual bluster, replaced by a quivering edge of fear. “We sit here like sheep waiting for the wolf. She’s been in there too long.”

Tywin didn’t so much as glance at him. “The hour isn’t yet spent.”

“And what then?” Mace pressed, stepping closer. “If she doesn’t return? What if the beast turns on her—or worse, comes for us?”

Tywin finally turned his head, his gaze sharp as steel. “Then I will deal with it.”

The confidence in his tone silenced Mace for a moment, though the Tyrell lord clearly found little comfort in it. He opened his mouth again, but before he could speak, the sound of hooves pounding against the stone path reached them. All eyes turned to the road leading down from the cliffs as a column of riders emerged, banners bearing the Lannister crimson fluttering in the wind.

At the head of the party rode Kevan Lannister, his armor dulled from travel, his brow furrowed in both concern and confusion. As he drew his horse to a halt, Kevan dismounted and handed his reins to one of his men before striding toward his brother.

“Tywin,” Kevan greeted, his voice steady but guarded as he surveyed the scene before him. His sharp eyes flicked to the mine entrance, then back to his brother. “I rode straight from the Riverlands when word reached me. They’re saying… Well, they’re saying things that are difficult to believe.”

Tywin turned to face him fully, his arms lowering to his sides. “What things?”

Kevan’s gaze swept the gathered soldiers, many of whom avoided his eye. He stepped closer, lowering his voice to keep their conversation private. “Men whispering on the front lines, even in Riverrun—rumors that a dragon lives beneath Casterly Rock.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t waver, though his jaw tightened subtly. “Rumors travel faster than truth.”

“Are they rumors?” Kevan pressed, his voice carrying an edge of disbelief. “Tywin, I need to hear it from you.”

For a long moment, the two brothers stood in silence, the wind tugging at their cloaks and the distant sound of the sea filling the spaces between their words. Finally, Tywin spoke, his voice low but firm. “A dragon has taken refuge here, in the old mines.”

Kevan’s face paled, his composure slipping for a fraction of a second. “Seven hells,” he muttered, running a hand over his beard. “How is this possible? Dragons are gone—dead—nothing more than bones in the crypts of King’s Landing.”

“And yet one remains here,” Tywin replied curtly. “Alive, and very real.”

Kevan glanced toward the mine entrance again, his unease growing. “And Y/N? The men say she—”

“She is in there now,” Tywin interrupted, his voice brooking no argument. “The dragon answers to her.”

Kevan blinked, visibly struggling to process his brother’s words. “This is dangerous, Tywin. Dragons bring ruin wherever they go. You know this better than anyone.”

“I know what dragons are,” Tywin replied coldly. “And I also know that control is possible.”

Kevan scoffed softly, though there was no humor in it. “Control? You think a dragon can be controlled?”

“If anyone can do it,” Tywin said, his voice steady, “she can.”

Kevan studied his brother carefully, searching for cracks in Tywin’s impenetrable armor. “And what of the realm? What will the king say when he learns a dragon now sleeps beneath the Rock?”

“The king will know nothing,” Tywin snapped, his patience fraying. “Not until I deem it necessary.”

Kevan’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze flicking to the uneasy soldiers nearby. “You cannot keep this hidden forever. Dragons are not secrets, Tywin. They’re fire and fury. The world will know, sooner or later.”

“And when it does,” Tywin said, his voice like iron, “it will know that the dragon answers to the House of Lannister.”

The words hung in the air, bold and unyielding. Kevan regarded him with a mixture of awe and concern, but before he could respond, a loud, guttural rumble reverberated from deep within the mine. The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet, and the guards took an instinctive step back, their hands flying to their swords.

Tywin’s eyes snapped toward the mine entrance, his gaze narrowing. Kevan followed his brother’s line of sight, his voice low and uneasy. “And what happens when the dragon decides it no longer answers to anyone?”

Tywin didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the dark cavern. The soldiers exchanged nervous glances, whispering among themselves, but Tywin’s face remained unreadable.

They waited in silence, the tension stretching as thin as wire. The wind carried the faint sound of something deeper—something alive shifting in the mines, a distant growl that resonated through the earth like thunder.

Tywin stood unmoved, his gaze locked on the shadows before him. If he felt any doubt, he hid it behind the impenetrable mask of a man who had spent his life commanding not only armies but fate itself.

“It won’t come to that,” he said finally, though whether he was speaking to Kevan, the soldiers, or himself, no one could say.

The cavern pulsed with an ancient energy, the air heavy with heat and the faint shimmer of dust as Viserion continued to carve into the stone with massive claws. The scraping and grinding sound echoed endlessly off the walls, accompanied by the low, resonant growl of the dragon’s breath. The dim light cast by the molten veins of the earth danced off dragon’s cream-and-gold scales, highlighting every sharp ridge and sinew of her colossal form.

You stood at the edge of the chamber, your hands braced against the rough stone wall as you watched him with growing awe and realization. What you had thought was restless movement or instinctive digging was far more deliberate. He wasn’t just clawing at the rock—he was building something.

Dragonglass.

Shards of it, black and gleaming, littered the ground around her claws. Some he pushed into neat piles, others he layered carefully against the wall, fitting them together in a way that made no sense to you at first. And then you saw it: the beginnings of a nest—a crude but unmistakable formation of obsidian, jagged yet secure, a nest only a dragon could create.

A sudden, bone-deep chill crept into your spine despite the heat of the cavern. A nest. Viserion wasn’t just here by accident—he was called here, driven by instinct older than memory. And he was not a he. The realization struck you like a blow to the chest.

“You’re not just a dragon,” you murmured, stepping closer, your voice almost swallowed by the cavernous space. “You’re a mother.”

Viserion turned her massive head toward you, molten gold eyes narrowing slightly as if she understood your words. She huffed, sending a gust of hot air over you that rattled loose stones across the floor. Her claws resumed their work, the slow, steady scraping filling the silence again.

Your hand pressed to your temple as a strange, familiar hum rose in your mind, a vibration that set your teeth on edge. The cavern blurred slightly at the edges, shadows flickering where there were none. Brandon, the name came to you unbidden—the voice that had guided you so far.

"You cannot linger. It is time to move. The dragon knows where she must go."

“Where?” you whispered sharply, your voice echoing as if the cavern itself had heard you. “Where must we go?”

Viserion paused, turning her head once more. This time, there was something expectant in her gaze, something waiting. The voice in your mind grew quieter, as though a path had already been laid and it was for you alone to take the next step.

You swallowed hard, stepping closer to her massive foreleg. “We can’t stay here, can we?” You glanced up at her golden gaze, your voice firmer now. “Then let’s go.”

Viserion rumbled low in her throat, an almost pleased sound, as she rose to her full height. Her wings unfurled slightly, brushing against the walls, and the force of it sent loose shards of dragonglass clattering to the floor. She turned her body, presenting her massive flank, and in that moment, you knew what you had to do.

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you moved forward, placing a trembling hand on one of her scales. The texture was harder than armor, sharper than you expected—edges of her scales caught the light like shards of a broken blade.

“Don’t throw me off, Viserion,” you murmured, trying to steady your voice as you gripped the edge of her shoulder. “I need you to trust me as I trust you.”

You hoisted yourself up, clambering awkwardly at first as you tried to find a way to mount her massive frame. Each scale was a ridge of razor-sharp edges, and they dug into your palms as you climbed. You gasped as one particularly deep edge sliced through the fabric of your gown, nicking the skin of your thigh. Warm blood dripped down your leg, but you pushed forward, biting back the sting.

The scales cut deeper as you pulled yourself into position, straddling the base of her neck. You dug your knees into the muscle below her shoulders, the ridges of her spine pressing into your thighs. Your gown was shredded by now, crimson streaks staining the torn fabric where scales had caught and bitten into your skin. Each cut burned, but you gritted your teeth, refusing to let go.

Viserion let out a sharp, commanding shriek that reverberated through the cavern like a war cry. Her wings unfurled, and for a moment, the sheer size of her power stole your breath. The ground beneath you trembled as she shifted her weight, claws scraping against stone as she prepared to take flight.

“Steady,” you whispered, pressing your palms against the scales of her neck, feeling the immense heat radiating through them. “I’m with you.”

The dragon’s massive head turned slightly, her eyes shining as she regarded you one final time. Then, with a surge of power that rattled your very bones, she pushed off the ground.

The world spun as Viserion’s wings snapped open and the cavern blurred around you. You clung tightly to her spines, your fingers digging into her scales as wind rushed past, sending your hair whipping behind you. Pain sparked where your cuts met the rush of air, but you didn’t let go. You couldn’t.

The roar of her ascent filled your ears as she powered upward, breaking free of the mine and surging into the open sky. The light of the sun struck her scales, setting her hide ablaze in brilliance. For a moment, you looked down and saw the world fall away—the Rock, the people below, all of it shrinking beneath Viserion’s shadow.

And then you looked forward, gripping tightly as the wind tore at your face. You didn’t know where she was taking you, but the voice still hummed faintly in your mind, like an unspoken promise.

High Heart.

You leaned forward against her scales, your voice low but steady. “Take me there, Viserion.”

The dragon shrieked again, wings beating with powerful purpose, and you soared into the horizon together—toward destiny, toward something far greater than either of you had yet to understand.

The moment the rumble started—a deep, bone-shaking tremor that seemed to roll through the very ground—Tywin Lannister knew something was happening. He turned his gaze toward the mine entrance, its dark mouth now alive with a faint glow. A distant roar echoed from within, low and building in intensity until it became a deafening, primal cry.

Tywin’s soldiers, hardened men who had seen countless battles, shifted uneasily. Some backed away, their hands instinctively reaching for their swords, though they knew no blade could stop what was coming. Horses nearby reared and bucked, their wild eyes rolling as the air itself seemed to vibrate with tension. The dogs brought to the site howled, pulling at their leashes, desperate to escape.

“Steady!” Tywin barked sharply, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Hold your ground!”

His words had little effect. The earth trembled again, louder now, until suddenly—a sound like thunder cracked the air. The wind whipped through the clearing as the massive form of Viserion shot forth from the mine, her wings flaring wide as she burst into the open.

“Seven hells,” someone muttered, their voice barely audible over the rush of wind and the bellowing horses.

The great dragon soared into the sky, golden-cream scales glinting in the light. Dust and loose stones scattered in her wake, blinding those closest to the entrance. Tywin took a single step back, his cloak whipping violently behind him. His guards scrambled, some throwing themselves to the ground in panic as the massive beast soared low, the wind from her wings kicking up debris.

“Out of the way!” Kevan Lannister shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the chaos.

Tywin didn’t move. He stood firm, his gaze locked on the dragon’s back, where the unmistakable figure of you sat, your pale hair whipping wildly in the wind. For a moment, it seemed as though time had stilled. You were there, one hand clutching the base of Viserion’s spines, your form small against the sheer enormity of the beast, yet unshaken.

“She’s riding it,” one of the soldiers stammered, awe and disbelief thick in his voice.

Tywin’s face was unreadable, but his fists were clenched tightly at his sides as he watched you soar overhead. Viserion let out a thunderous roar, the sound enough to send men stumbling backward, hands flying to their ears.

“Control the horses!” Barristan Selmy barked, gripping the reins of one panicked mare as others bolted, nearly dragging their handlers into the dirt. Nearby, the livestock brought as bait screamed and scattered in every direction, a frenzy of hooves and dust.

“Make way! Hold them back!” Tywin shouted, his voice carrying above the din. Guards rushed to regain order, but it was futile; the animals were beyond calming now. One horse broke free entirely, galloping wildly down the path with a terrified shriek.

Viserion angled upward with a sharp tilt of her wings, pulling higher into the sky as if to remind them all of her dominance. A few men stared up, their faces pale, while others sank to their knees in what could only be described as terrified reverence.

Tywin’s eyes never left you. He tracked your form as the dragon rose above the cliffs, your silhouette framed against the blazing sun as you disappeared toward the distant horizon.

Kevan stepped up beside him, his face ashen, his voice tight. “Tywin… she’s gone.”

Tywin didn’t respond at first. His gaze lingered on the shrinking figure in the distance, the unspoken truth hanging heavy between them. Finally, he turned sharply, his voice cold and clipped. “Order the men to regain control of the livestock and horses. I want this site cleared by sundown.”

Kevan blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden command. “You mean to—”

“I mean to bring order back to my lands,” Tywin snapped, cutting him off. His tone left no room for debate. “This changes nothing.”

Nothing, except everything.

The men hesitated before scrambling back to their tasks, chasing after the scattered animals and pulling disoriented horses back into line. Barristan Selmy approached Tywin, his expression grim as he surveyed the chaos. “You know where she’s going,” he said quietly, his voice firm but respectful.

Tywin turned his steely gaze to Barristan. “Wherever she goes, she’ll return.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Barristan asked, unflinching.

Tywin’s jaw tightened, his face hard as carved stone. “Then I will find her. And bring her back.”

The old knight held his gaze for a long moment before nodding once. “I’ll see the men back to order.”

As Barristan turned away, Tywin allowed himself a brief, solitary moment to exhale. His hands unclenched, though the tension in his shoulders remained. The sight of you on dragonback had stirred something deep within him—something he could not yet name. Pride. Fear. Possession.

“Foolish woman,” he muttered under his breath, though the words carried no heat. He cast one last glance toward the horizon where you had disappeared, the faintest flicker of emotion crossing his face before he turned and walked away, cloak billowing behind him.

The chamber was heavy with the low murmur of voices and the faint scratching of quills on parchment. A fortnight had passed, and the absence of your return had begun to settle over Casterly Rock like a dark cloud. Tywin Lannister stood at the head of the war table, his gaze unwavering as he looked over the gathered advisors, their faces grim. Kevan Lannister sat to his left, his usual calm replaced with unease, while others—lords, scouts, and captains—exchanged wary glances.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, its warmth doing little to ease the chill that seemed to creep through the stone walls. Reports and rumors lay scattered across the table, carried in on parchment and uncertain voices.

Kevan broke the silence first, clearing his throat. “News from the Stormlands and the North,” he began, his voice steady but low. “Stannis Baratheon is dead. His forces have broken entirely—scattered to the winds. The Florents are rallying behind Lord Mace Tyrell in gratitude for their swift deliverance. Storm’s End and Dragonstone remain secured.”

A few murmurs of approval rumbled through the room, but Tywin barely reacted, his face carved into the same stern mask he always wore. “And the North?” he asked, his voice measured but carrying the weight of command.

One of the scouts stepped forward—a wiry man with the look of someone accustomed to hardship. “Cold winds have begun to blow, my lord,” he said, his tone cautious. “Our men in the field report strange weather patterns. There’s talk… of something stirring beyond the Wall.”

“Wildling nonsense,” one of the older lords muttered dismissively, shaking his head.

Tywin silenced the man with a single glance. “What else?”

The scout shifted uneasily. “Reports from the Riverlands, my lord. Travelers and merchants say a dragon has been sighted near the ruins of Harrenhal. Others swear it was seen as far south as Fairmarket. The creature leaves no destruction in its wake—only shadow and flame in the night sky.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the words settling like lead. Tywin’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, though he betrayed no other reaction. His gaze flicked to the map spread across the table, his finger tapping near the Riverlands.

“High Heart,” he muttered under his breath, almost to himself.

Kevan heard him and frowned. “You think she’s gone there?”

Tywin’s expression remained cold, but a faint flicker of something—a calculation, a conclusion—passed through his eyes. “She spoke of it before. A place of visions, of old magic. Whatever drives her, it led her there.”

Lord Tytos Brax, an older bannerman, folded his arms, clearly skeptical. “If she’s taken the dragon to the Riverlands, my lord, then she risks making a spectacle of herself. Rumors are already spreading like wildfire. The smallfolk speak of the return of the Targaryens.”

“And who spreads those whispers, I wonder?” Tywin cut in sharply, his gaze flicking toward the gathered men. “Fear makes men reckless. Rumors of dragons bring panic. I will not allow chaos to fester while we remain uncertain of her intentions.”

Kevan hesitated before speaking. “Do you still believe she’ll return, Tywin? It’s been two weeks. Dragons… they don’t belong in chains, and neither does she.”

Tywin’s sharp gaze snapped to his brother. “She will return,” he said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. “She will not abandon her son.”

The room was quiet again, save for the faint sound of wind rattling against the windowpanes. For all of Tywin’s certainty, the tension among the men remained palpable. Doubt lingered, though none dared speak it aloud.

“And if she doesn’t?” Lord Brax pressed, unwilling to let the question go unanswered. “What then?”

Tywin turned his icy gaze on him, his voice colder than the wind from the North. “Then I will bring her back myself, like I've said.”

Kevan leaned closer, his voice low enough for only Tywin to hear. “And what if she refuses?”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing his face. “She will not refuse.”

Kevan nodded slowly, though the doubt lingered in his expression. “And the boy? What happens to him if the rumors spread further? If people begin to see him as—”

“He is my son and heir,” Tywin interrupted, his voice like steel. “Damon Lannister will remain under my protection.”

The men around the table exchanged glances, the tension settling back over the room like a shroud. Tywin looked down at the map once more, his finger tracing the route through the Riverlands. His thoughts were sharp and methodical, but beneath them lingered something deeper—something he would never admit aloud. A flicker of unease. Of frustration.

“She’ll come back,” he repeated quietly, as if reassuring himself more than anyone else. “She knows where she belongs.”

The chamber was quiet for a long moment before Tywin turned to the scout. “Double the patrols near the Riverlands. If the dragon is sighted again, I want a report immediately. No one speaks of this beyond these walls.”

“Yes, my lord,” the scout said quickly, bowing before retreating from the chamber.

Tywin straightened, his posture unyielding as he turned back to his gathered men. “This meeting is concluded. See to your tasks.”

The lords and captains filed out, their footsteps echoing down the stone hallways as the great doors closed behind them. Kevan lingered a moment longer, watching his brother carefully.

“You don’t truly know if she’ll return, do you?” Kevan asked quietly.

Tywin didn’t look at him as he replied, his voice steady and resolute. “No. But she is mine. And I know that much.”

With that, Tywin turned on his heel, his cloak sweeping behind him as he strode toward the window. Beyond the thick glass, the skies stretched endlessly toward the Riverlands, where whispers of dragons and shadows waited to be brought to heel.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Peach Part 1 of 2 (Rafe Cameron Two Shot) +18

+ 18 Minor DNI

CollegeStudent!Rafe x Ward’sSugarBaby!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Rafe has a thing for his dad’s sugar baby (reader)

🪄 Warnings: somnophilia (lol), secluded yet public oral, cheating, swearing, degradation, name-calling, pet names, oral (fem. receiving), oral (male receiving), ownership kink, reader’s a sugar baby, rough sex, nipple play, choking, creampie, & cum play, no use of y/n but everyone refers to her as the pet name Peach, softish rafe but he’s kinda mean here and ther

✨ Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation. ✨

2K

Reader’s POV:

“I mean it is a little much for Midsommers, Peach, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Ward gives you a cheeky smile as he unwinds a little more on the dressing room couch, eyes combing over your curves from the reflection of the mirror. “I love dressing you up, princess. Love showing off my little doll around the fellas. Can you blame me? You’re flawless.” He winks and smiles as he lifts his champagne flute to his lips, taking a sip.

“Thank you. I love it,” you praise, running your hands down the delicate black satin, purposely running over the fullness of your breasts, guiding his focus off your eyes. “I think this will go really well with those black Jimmy Choo pumps you bought me.”

Ward smiles and shakes his head ‘no’ as he crosses his strong arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m going let you re-wear a pair of date night heels, baby? We need to buy you somethin’ new. You deserve it. Very sweet for you to be mindful of Daddy’s pocket,” he lauds as he taps the wallet tucked into the pocket of his designer blazer. “That’s just one of the many, many reasons you have my heart, sugar,” Ward mumbles as he rises to his feet, eyes trained on your body. “That, and the fact that I just can’t believe you’re mine,” he mumbles before his lips meet your neck, kissing gently as he works his way to your ear. “I love takin’ care of you.” You tip your head slightly, resting your cheek against his, the two of you matching each other’s gaze in the mirror.

“We look good together, Cameron,” you coo. He wraps his arms around you, kissing your bare shoulder before resting his chin on top.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, Peach. This looks so pretty on you. You’re stunning. You probably need something just as pretty underneath. Don’t you agree?”

You nuzzle into his cheek, making him chuckle warmly. “You spoil me, daddy… Of course, I agree. Something pretty you can take off me later,” you flirt, just stoking the fire.

“Baby girl…” He gushes, the apples of his cheeks reddening.

“Sorry… I can’t help it.”

“No, baby. I love it. Oh, I booked a hair and nail appointment for you, so I won’t see you until you arrive. I have to be at the Island Club a little early. You can just catch a ride with Rafe. I’ll meet you at the car and we can walk in together. Alright?”

You fix your face, trying your best to seem unfazed by even the mere mention of his son’s name.

Rafe Cameron…

Truthfully, I was about to make my move during parents’ weekend. Then, I laid eyes on Ward. Rafe’s old man… handsome, sweet, thoughtful. It was too hard to pass up the chance to be taken care of. And, taken care of I was. Student loan debt canceled, school-year paid in cash, trips, lavish dinners, anything and everything his little Peach wants she gets. But even with all of that, I can’t help but be drawn to Rafe. I still get butterflies when he passes me on his way to class or when he looks my way in the library.

Even after I got with Ward I’d still try to finagle my way into staying on campus for the weekend so I could hit up a house party or bump into him at the bar. Ward made sure that didn’t happen, pleading with me to spend most of my free time at Tanneyhill. Ward is so sweet when he begs. And, how can I possibly deny the man cutting the checks?

“Peach? Is that okay? He seemed pretty happy about getting to know you a little better,” Ward smiles as he fixes the strap of your gown.

“No, Daddy. It’s perfect.”

You look down at the vanity, watching your phone buzz. Your heart skips a beat as you see his name written across it, causing the usual butterflies to swirl. How would this play out? What would Rafe say?

To the rest of the family I was just some girl; maybe someone Ward picked up at the country club or some overpriced boutique downtown. Sarah and Wheezie were too unbothered to care. How would Rafe take this? Would he even recognize me?

The buzzing stops, pulling you out of your daze as you watch the incoming call shift to missed. Shit. Headlights beam outside as Rafe’s large truck rolls up the drive just as your phone dings. Voicemail – Rafe Cameron You lift the phone to your ear, hearing that familiar voice.

“Uhh… Peach? It’s Ward’s son, Rafe. I’m out front if you’re ready to head out. Don’t know if you need a few more minutes or whatever. Just let me know.” BEEP. The message ends, the eldest Cameron’s tone short and uninterested. Maybe he knows who I am and truly doesn’t care.

You look down at your body, wrapped in a pretty pink robe; dress still hanging up in the corner of Ward’s room. It had been a long day of shopping and pampering, leaving you late. The muffled sound of Rafe’s truck door kickstarts your heart. You unfasten the bow around your waist, letting the material fall off your body and onto a puddle on the floor as you hustle toward your gown.

You step into the number, stumbling slightly; looping the delicate straps over your shoulders before smoothing out the front.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Umm… One second, Rafe,” you call.

“Of course.” You hear his deep voice in person, making you suck in a nervous breath. Reaching behind your back you struggle for the zipper, craning your wrist to get it to close. “Uhh… You need some help in there?” Rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you stand in front of the mirror again, looking back at yourself dumbly.

Of course, I want his help. I’m sure if I struggle a little more I could get it to word. But do I want to?

“Rafe,” you call out his name, voice broken with nervousness. “I could use your help.”

Rafe’s POV:

What the actual fuck. I stand behind her, eyes falling down the length of her bare back to her open zipper. Nothing but soft skin and satin; the small zipper resting just below her g-string. I’ve gotta move slowly. No way I could step out from behind her like this. My hard-on pushes against my dress pants, straining the zipper. I let my fingers trail her skin ever so slightly, tugging the material together reluctantly before pulling it closed.

I had no idea it was going to be her when she accepted my offer… Lucky me.

“How are you, sweetheart,” I mumble from behind her, catching her gaze in the mirror.

“Umm… I’m good. How are you?” She asks sweetly.

“Great. I’m fine,” I hum, not moving from my place behind her, ambling a little closer. I can’t fucking help myself. Her lashes flutter at the closeness between the two of us. “Just came from campus.”

“Yeah? Umm… We go to the same school,” she starts, like I wasn’t painfully aware.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do. I know exactly who you are. And you and my dad are-”

“Dating?” She answers, her calm demeanor veiling her shame, just a sliver of it still peeking through. “No. We’re friends? Companions… I-”

I let out a raspy chuckle, saving her the strain as she flounder in front of me, panic painting her beautiful face. “Nah, Peach. I understand,” I smirk. She lifts her eyebrow, letting out an airy laugh herself. “He’s battin’ way out of his league with you. I must say.”

I lean in a little closer, letting the warmth of my voice fan across the column of her neck, making her head fall back slightly as she tilts closer. My large hands rest on her hips, all my primal urges pushing me to bend her over, hands on the glass, dress around her hips, my fat cock fucking in and out as I watch her go absolutely dumb on my dick. But I resist.

Why the fuck are you with Ward? You’re too beautiful… You’re only wasting your time with my old man. What is he givin’ you that I can’t? Money? Is that what you’re after, babydoll?

Good thing I have that too.

“Nice to see you, man,” Kelce smiles as he pulls me in for a half-hug, cutting off my view of her. I pull him to the side, giving me the perfect sightline.

Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation.

She looks down, eyeing her clutch as she feels the rumble of her phone. Her eyes lift, catching mine like she knows exactly what’s to come, without seeing the message at all. I give her a knowing nod as I stroll away.

In a room full of people she knows just where I am. She’s got her eye on me. Atta girl.

Reader’s POV

Well… if there was any question if that text was from Rafe or not that nod answered my question. My excitement leaves a steady pulse between my thighs as I try my best to act normally. He’s trying to get me alone.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” you whisper in Ward’s ear, kissing him gently on the cheek before wiping some sparkly gloss off his stubble. He gives you a little pat on your bum and a wink.

“Gonna finish up this conversation, Peach, and I’ll find you. M’Kay?” He hums. “15 minutes tops.”

“Of course,” you smile, nodding quickly before excusing yourself, nabbing out your phone as you step toward where Rafe was headed, rushing to read what he had to say.

Holy shit.

Your phone glows as you reread the text messages sent by Rafe wandering down the hallway as you take in each word, considering your options. Am I doing this? Should I turn him down? Let him know he read this all wrong? That he’s overstepping-

“There she is,” you hear his low voice from behind you. His large hand wraps around your arm, tugging you back fast, pulling you into the dark room before slamming the lock shut.

“Rafe?” You gasp just as his lips collide with yours, the two of you running high on adrenaline; teeth clashing, tongues rolling. Your long nails scratch through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him moan into your kiss as he backs you against the wooden door.

“Didn’t even take any convincing to get you back here, baby girl. What do you have to say for yourself?” He mumbles against your lips as he paws for the bottom of your dress, bunching it up higher and higher.

“Rafe. I-”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, princess. You want me. I need you. Bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me. You gonna let me check?” He rasps, catching your moans between his lips.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want,” he taunts as his lips brush yours, his rough fingers grazing the soaked spot on your panties.

“I want you, Rafe. I want your… Fuck. I want your fingers,” you whimper, starting small, knowing full-well he’ll talk you into more; just making yourself feel less guilty about the whole ordeal by asking for the bare minimum like that even matters.

“Just my fingers. Huh?” He teases. Not buying the angelic ruse for a moment. “You don’t want my lips, doll? You don’t need my cock?”

“Shit,” you whine as your legs draw together; his filthy words fillling you ear, drunk off the taste of his lips, just thinking about more. Rafe grips your thighs, opening you up further before pressing his fingers against your sex. Your head falls back, knocking softly against the door as a drawn-out moan tumbles from your lips.

“Did that get you a little excited?” He chuckles, darkly against your neck, licking and nipping at that special spot that has you whimpering like a pathetic slut.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I got excited, Rafe… I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you whisper.

“Mhmm… Haven’t stopped thinking about me and my fingers?” He bullies as he lifts you into his arms. You wrap yours around his neck, lessening the space between you further, your wetness surely transferring onto his white button-down as your legs wrap around his trim waist.

“Yeah,” you stammer, making Rafe suck his teeth and smile against your mouth.

“Stop trying to be a good girl, princess. I know what you are,” he growls. Your heart falls, breaking slightly as he hits you with the truth; Rafe opening his mouth before you can even defend yourself. “You want money… I want you. I can take care of you in more ways than one. I promise that. Got more money than him. I’m a better fuck. Let me prove it to you, angel. I know you’re a slut for cash alright. So am I. The game sees the game alright? But, you probably need proof… Let me fuck this pretty pussy, ma. Show you how much better off you’ll be with me. I wanna be your daddy. Aight? Not him. Not Ward. Rafe.”

You draw a deep breath, head spinning as he lays you back on the locker room couch. You claw for him, desperate for Rafe’s lips on you again. Rafe rips away your little lace panties, spreading your thighs before eyeing your glistening slit with a hungry groan. “Tell me what you want. You can speak. Can’t you?” He snaps impatiently as you fumble over your words. “Words.”

“You-”

“Fuck it. I can’t wait – need your pussy.”

“S-Shit,” you whine. “Just – Just your fingers Rafe…” He brushes your dripping folds with his thick digits, gathering your essence before stuffing them in his mouth, sucking them clean as his eyes roll back. “Let me eat you, baby. C’mon,” he pleads. You watch him wet his bottom lip, savoring the taste of whatever’s left of you.

“Damnit, Rafe. Your lips too… Fuck. Hurry. Your dad’s meeting me soon.”

“Little now. Little later,” he huffs as his strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, lowering you onto the cushion. Rafe’s gaze stays on yours as his lips latch on your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side.

He moans against your cunt as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing you with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him. “Enough of that,” he slurs, spreading your legs wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more muscle. “Can’t wait for you to suck my cock. Can’t wait to get you off,“ he mumbles against your heat. You look toward the door, watching a shadow pass underneath. The music blares from behind it. Is it loud enough? You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.

“You taste like heaven, honey,” he pants, bumping his nose against your clit as his tongue dips into your hole. Rafe grabs your legs, slinging them over his broad shoulders, getting even closer. He laps at your pussy, devouring you. Rafe breathes deeply, taking in your scent, eyes shutting softly, the vibration of a moan felt against your cunt. He takes your clit in his mouth sucking hard, making you cry out, spiked heels digging into his strong back as you buck your hips.

“Fuck, Rafe. M’right there,” you blubber. You reach for your dress straps, tugging down the top, letting your tits bounce free. Your hands instantly draw up to your chest, clutching and pushing them together. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit, making you toss your head back. Strangled cries spills from your lips. Your hands drop down, weaving into his blonde fringe giving it a rough tug as you grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself wavering on the edge of bliss.

“Peach?” You hear Ward call from outside the door, making your eyes double in horror. Rafe doesn’t stop, increasing his pace even. His eyes flick to yours, solidifying the evident. He wants Ward to hear. Your hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your cries. Rafe reaches up, snatching your wrist as your body betrays you, eyes screwing shut at you cum on Rafe’s tongue, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you’re fully relaxed to release you with a panting breath. His mouth greets yours in a passionate kiss, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He pinches and rolls your nipples between his rough fingers before sucking down; trailing sweet kisses causing you to mewl.

“You’re mine,” Rafe whispers, nestling himself into your neck.

“Not… Fuck. Rafe, I’m not.”

“You are. Stop lyin’, princess. You know you are,” he subsists as he matches your eyes. “Lie to me and tell me that wasn’t the best you’ve ever had. I didn’t even use my dick, baby. Imagine what I could do. Huh? I know my old man isn’t doin’ any of this shit better than me.” You fight for air, looking away for a moment before he grabs your chin, demanding your focus. “Fuckin’ talk to me. Use those pretty little words that you’re holdin’ back. Enough with the games. It was painfully easy to get you in here. I know what you want-”

“Rafe… I don’t know-” Your phone vibrates, stealing your attention as well as Rafe’s as you watch back-to-back text messages come in from Ward.

Part 2

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Scars To Your Beautiful - James Potter

A/N: I have no idea how I was able to finish this xD thank you @captainlunaxmen for all your help! I hope yo loves like this :)

Request - @nix-rose asked: What about a James Potter x Black!Reader (if reader can have some personality: extrovert, loyal, gryffindor but could probably be a slytherin, just a happy person, definitely rough and tumble but still enjoys looking cute-) “Have you… Always been this beautiful?” “…That’s so cheesy even for your standards.”

Warnings: reader is really insecure, mentions of abusive parents, James protecting you from a creep (nothing to explicit though) also, this isn't proofread :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Scars To Your Beautiful

But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful

The ‘other Black’. That's how you were known in Hogwarts. 

You knew your family wasn’t perfect. As much as they all like to make it seem that way, it was very much far from it. Being part of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black brought a lot of pressure with it, but you were used to it by now. And, deep down, you loved your family. At least your brothers and your cousins. Well, two of your cousins, you were always pretty terrified of Bellatrix after she enchanted all of hers and her sisters’ ancient creepy dolls to come alive and it still terrified you to your very core today. But you loved Andromeda and Narcissa, even if the latter was now spending all of her time with Lucius Malfoy and you saw less and less of her. 

Even if you’d never admit it, you were always a bit envious of them. Not in a bad way, you just… wondered a little how it would feel to be like them. You remembered guys literally fighting to get your cousins’ attention. And not a day went by without you having to hear at least ten different people saying how gorgeous your brothers were. 

And then, there was you. You had a respectable reputation since you were part of the Black family. But it sometimes felt like you weren’t worthy enough to be part of it. You’ve sometimes noticed some guys staring at you a bit too long. And you’ve gone out with a few guys before. But you’ve also had people come to you specifically to get closer to one of your relatives. And nobody had referred to you as beautiful. Well, no one, except…

“Hey, beautiful” you heard that very familiar voice standing next to you. 

“Potter” you smirked. 

“Going to the match today?” 

“The Slytherin-Gryffindor match?” you smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” you told him. 

“Good, cause I need my good luck charm” he said as the two of you walked to the Great Hall. 

“Exactly, how does that work, Potter? Because I’m not really rooting for your team” you reminded him and he scoffed, pretending to be offended. 

“But of course you are, your brother plays on my team-”

“My other brother plays for my team” you interrupted. 

“Well, maybe not the team but… I’m sure you like the Gryffindor captain more than Slytherin’s” he smiled sweetly at you. 

“Well, you got me there, Potter” you admitted. 

“Promise you’ll come to the party when we win?” he asked as you entered the Great Hall and you knew you would separate. 

“That’s a lot of talk, Potter” you smirked but he offered his pinky to you. You rolled your eyes but you took it. “Never speak of this” you told him.

“See you there, beautiful” he said before he saw you walk to your table. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Here” you said, sitting down next to your brother at Potions and handing him a small bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the bag. 

“That girl from Ravenclaw wanted me to give you this. I think she wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend” you said, grabbing one of the chocolates inside. “Bite this, if it doesn’t have a love potion, I’m stealing them” you said.

“I’m not trying anything!” he complained. “Remember when we had to take care of Sirius after that girl from Hufflepuff basically drugged him?”

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to try them first” you chuckled. 

“Hold on” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the candy. “We’re good” he said when a small purple dust came out of it. You grabbed one of the chocolates and Regulus grabbed another one, reading the note inside. “So, how was your talk with Potter this morning?” 

“I didn't talk to Potter this morning” you frowned, stealing some of his chocolates. 

“Don’t do that. I’m not Sirius” Regulus glared at you. “I’m not oblivious of how you two just casually entered the Great Hall together” he said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reggie” you said, pretending to be confused. 

“Or whenever he goes to Honeydukes he just happens to buy one too many Peppermint Toads so he gives you some, which just so happens to be your favorite” he said.

“He doesn’t… do that” you said, with your mouth half full of chocolate. 

“Are you… playing dumb? Or have you actually not noticed this?”

“Notice what? James is just friendly. That’s how he is” you tried to explain. 

“Really? He’s never gotten me Sugar Quills” Regulus said. 

“He doesn’t like Sugar Quills, why would he buy those?” 

“He doesn’t like Peppermint Toads either” he smirked. 

“Y-yes he does!” you argued, nervously. 

“No, he likes Chocolate Frogs, like the rest of us normal people” he said, as you glared at him. “And besides, it’s not just that. He’s always asking Sirius and me what your favorite books are, or asking Remus which songs you liked” he shrugged. 

“He… he does?”

“Does he really strike you as the guy who would read Pride and Prejudice for the fun of it?” 

“He might” you tried to convince yourself as you grabbed another chocolate. 

“Look, I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. And it’s not worth it, bug” he said, getting serious. 

“It’s easy for you to say, Reg” you mumbled, picking another chocolate. “Look, it’s just… not that easy for me” you added. 

“You’ve gone out with guys before” he frowned, confused. 

“Not like James” you added. “What if… what if he’s really just being friendly? What if I think he’s interested in me and then I make a complete fool of myself? Just because he’s nice to me and I think there might be something else there? I feel…” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “It feels pathetic” you mumbled. 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you liking James. Having feelings doesn’t make you pathetic” he said in a serious tone. “Secondly, did you not listen to what I just said? I honestly don’t think that James is just nice to you randomly like he’s nice to everyone else. He’s always looking for excuses to be around you, and he seems happier when he is. As do you. And, to be honest, I thought you were as oblivious about this as Sirius is, but now that I know that you were just trying to live in denial well, you’re dumber than Sirius- OUCH!”

“Excuse me?!” you asked, offended. 

“Only when it comes to this” he defended himself. “Look, I know that… for some reason, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re never going to find someone who fancies you-”

“For some reason? There is a very clear reason, Regulus, her name is Walburga!” 

“I know” he rolled his eyes. He knew very well about the hierarchy of the three of you in your home. And even if you were still not as below as Sirius because you were in Slytherin, your mother never let you forget that you were not Regulus or any of your cousins for that matter. “And I know that is not easy for you to turn off her voice in your head but, if you don’t, you might miss your chance to be with someone who is actually a great fit for you and it looks like he really likes you” he explained. “Don’t do that. If you let her win, you’re admitting that she’s right. And we all know, she’s not” he reminded you. “What’s the worst that could happen if you give Potter a chance?” 

“It’s very annoying when you’re right all the time, did you know that?”

“I do” he smiled triumphally, eating one last piece of chocolate as Professor Slughorn finally entered the class. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ugh, what is it?” you heard your cousin’s annoyed voice on the other side of the door that you knocked on before it opened, and she appeared. “Oh, hey, love” she smiled when she saw it was you.

“Hi, Cissa, um… is this a bad time?” you asked, hoping you were not just interrupting her having sex with Malfoy. 

“Oh, no, love. Lucius is just moping about losing the match” she laughed, stepping out. “What’s up?” 

“Um, w-well, I wanted to ask for a favor… if you’re not too busy” you smiled. 

“Please, anything to get away from Lucius” she said, linking her arm with yours and already walking over to your dorm. “So, what’s going on?” she said, stepping into your dorm and noticing all the clothes scattered around your bed and the floor. 

“Well, I was hoping to get your opinion on something” you said, smiling sweetly. 

“Let me guess” she said, sitting on your bed and grabbing a few skirts and dresses. “You’re going to the Gryffindor party to see James Potter” she said, erasing the smile off your face. 

“Wha-? How did you know? Did Regulus tell you?”

“Oh, please, love, I’m sure you and Sirius are the only ones who didn’t know” she laughed. 

“What?”

“Yeah, Bella and Andy also know” she informed you. 

“What? How?”

“I told them” she shrugged. 

“Ugh, great” you said, throwing yourself on your bed. “My entire family is discussing my pathetic crush” you lamented. 

“It could be worse” she said. “At least he’s a pureblood” she smiled. 

“Right” you said awkardly, sitting up. Of course that would be the only pro she’d find on James. 

“Besides, he obviously likes you back” she said as she started looking through the dresses. “Stand up” she said, pulling you up and putting the dress in front of you. 

“How are you so sure that he likes me back?”

“Oh, please, love. You can’t be that dense” she snorted. “The boy won’t leave you alone. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one not from Gryffindor to get invited to their parties” she said. “Or at least the only Slytherin” she said. 

“W-well, maybe Sirius invited me-”

“Then why isn’t Regulus going?” 

“Okay, fair” you sighed. 

“This looks pretty. How come you haven’t worn it before?” she asked, holding up a black dress. 

“Oh, I got it a while ago in a very cute shop, but, I know it’s not something my mother would ever let me wear” you told her. 

“Well, lucky for us, your mum isn’t here” she said, throwing the dress at you. 

After you put it on, Narcissa happily sat back down on your bed and helped you with your makeup. 

“Hey, Cissa?”

“Try not to move, I’m doing your eyes” she said. 

“How do you um… get a guy to uh… notice you?” you asked, making your cousin’s look soften a little. 

“James Potter already notices you, love” she smiled. 

“W-well, yeah, I guess b-but, um… how do I let him know that I like him?” you asked. “You know, without actually telling him” you chuckled. 

“You mean, how do you flirt with him?” 

“It’s just… Regulus insists that he does these things to get my attention and… to be honest, I didn’t think it was any different from the way he acts with other girls so… I guess I have been acting normal, but… I’d like him to know that I’m interested, I guess…”

“Well, Potter seems to have a big ego, so congratulate him on how well he played today” she said as she kept doing her makeup and you glared at her a little. 

“And Lucius is as humble as they come, I suppose” you muttered. 

“Fair point” she said, before she continued. “Look, you already know he’s interested in you. Just smile at him, laugh at his stupid jokes, you should be fine” she insisted as she finished. “Okay, I’m done” she smiled. You got up and walked over looking at yourself in the mirror. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you actually felt beautiful. Narcissa had managed to make you look as elegant and flawless as you did whenever your family had a dinner party, but you didn’t feel like you were wearing a costume in one of the dresses your mother always picked. You felt like yourself. You turned around and hugged your cousin tightly. 

“Thank you so much, Cissa!” you smiled. 

“You’re welcome, love. Now go flirt with your dumb boy” she said, ushering you outside your dorm. 

“You too” you said, smiling and walking down the stairs as she rolled her eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When you entered the Gryffindor Tower, the party was already in full mode. You felt a few people, guys specifically, looking your way but you thought maybe it was because you were possibly the only Slytherin here. You walked across the Common Room, looking for James, but you found a different Marauder first. 

“Hi, Remus” you smiled as he walked over to you. 

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here” he hugged you. “You’re the only person I like at this party and now Prongs can finally stop moping about you not being here” he said, making you laugh a little as he pulled away and looked at you. “Wow… you look-?”

“Bad?” you panicked.

“What? No! You look lovely” he smiled. “Prongs’ probably gonna have a heart attack though” he smirked. 

“Shut up! Stop saying things like that!” you widened your eyes at him. 

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you are as oblivious as your brother” he chuckled.

“I am not-! You know, I hit Regulus for saying that today!” 

“Alright, don’t hit me” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “But, you cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed the way Prongs acts around you. He was literally throwing a fit about you not coming today” he insisted. 

“Really? Because he seems fine to me” you said, pointing behind Remus where you saw James talking to a group of very pretty girls as he offered a drink to one of them while another one threw her hair back, clearly flirting with him. 

“That means nothing” Remus said, rolling his eyes when he looked back to you. “That’s how James is-” 

“Exactly, that’s how James is” you repeated. 

“No, it’s different with you” Remus insisted as he grabbed a drink and handed it to you. 

“Really? Enlighten me” you glared at him. 

“So, you are admitting you are as oblivious as Sirius then?” 

“You know, you’re making a big deal out of that for someone who is just as oblivious on my brother’s crush on him-”

“What?!” Remus said, choking on his drink and pulling you aside. “Alright, now you’re just making stuff up” he said. 

“I’m not! You really haven’t noticed how Sirius is obnoxiously loud whenever you’re around to get your attention?”

“He… does not” Remus said, blushing a little. 

“Or that he calls you sweet names” you smirked.

“He calls everyone ‘love’” he interrupted. 

“Yes, he does” you nodded. “But he only calls you ‘my’ love” you added. 

“He… does not” he repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, walking over to the two of you all of the sudden. 

“Nothing” Remus quickly said. 

“Being normal, why?” you said at the same time, making Sirius raise an eyebrow at the two of you. “Um… h-have you seen James?” 

“No, but I am seeing too much of something” he said, gesturing his hand at your body. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“A dress?” you said, looking down at yourself. 

“That is too revealing. You need to go change!”

“First of all, it is not. And secondly, your shirt is literally completely open!” you complained. 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t anything they haven’t seen before” he defended himself. “I am not in the mood to fight some prick that stares at you for a little too long because of… that” he said. “Go upstairs and grab my jacket” he told you.

“What? No!” you complained.

“Yes” he insisted. “Would you reason with her, my love?” he asked, looking at Sirius and you smirked when he blushed furiously. 

“Shut up” he whispered to you. “Look, just go upstairs and pretend to look for a jacket, I’ll distract him and you can come back in a few minutes” he said while Sirius finished his drink. 

“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes. 

“How come she only listens to you?” Sirius complained, pouting at Remus. “It must be your beautiful eyes” he smiled.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus asked, taking his glass away from him. 

You made it upstairs to the boys’ dorm and went over to Sirius' trunk to look for one of his jackets.  You found one that you kind of liked and put it on before you went back downstairs. You looked for James but saw he was still talking to the group of girls. You tried to look for your brother instead but saw him very busy with Remus and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to grab something to drink.

“I didn’t know they let Slytherins into our parties” you heard Augustus McLaggen on your left, pouring himself a drink as well. 

“Oh” you said nervously. You were rarely alone at these things. You would at least have Regulus by your side and he would make someone go away if you were uncomfortable. “W-well, James invited me and- I was with my brother-”

“Relax, darling, I’m joking” he smirked, walking closer to you. 

“Oh” you smiled wearily. 

“It’s actually a bit… refreshing to have someone from another house” he said. 

“Um… thanks?”

“There’s something different about you” he said, eyeing you up and down. “I can’t quite put my finger on it” he said, making you pull your jacket a little closer.

“Hey! You finally came, love” you thankfully heard James’ voice coming towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist. “I thought you were standing me up” he said, kissing your head. 

“J-James, hi” you smiled relieved. 

“Sorry, mate, gotta steal her for a bit” he said, smirking at McLaggen who was glaring at him and he quickly pulled you aside. 

“Thank you” you told him as the two of you walked away.

“Don’t mention it, love. McLaggen’s a prick, why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t talking to him! He was talking to me” you insisted as James raised his eyebrow. “I was just getting a drink! And I was gonna go look for you-”

“Are you wearing my jacket?” he asked, confused. 

“Y-your… what?” you said, looking down at your jacket. “This is y-your jacket?” you asked confused. 

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was in Sirius’ trunk” you said, confused. “I thought-”

“Yeah, beautiful. I’m gonna save you some time, probably none of our clothes is in the correct trunk” he laughed. “Except Remus’” he added. 

“I’m sorry” you said, starting to take it off. 

“N-no! Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. Are you cold? Is that why you wanted my jacket? ‘Cause it looks good on you- I mean, you look beautiful tonight” he said smiling at you. “W-well, you always do” he added. 

“R-really?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Yeah” he nodded. “You don’t need the jacket if you ask me-”

“Oh, um, w-well…” you stuttered. “Sirius just… didn’t like my dress and said I needed a jacket” you rolled your eyes.  

“Well, Padfoot just needs to snog Moony and mind his business” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “You look beautiful with that dress” he smiled dreamily at you. 

“Thank you, James” you said, feeling your heart flutter. “Wait, you know about that?”

“How Sirius calls Moony ‘my’ love? Of course I do” he chuckled. “So, what took you so long to come? Were you crying all this time because your house lost?”

“Really? Did you want me to come just to brag about the match, Potter? I can still leave” you smirked as he handed you a drink. 

“Please don’t. I was so bored before you came” he said, walking you over to one of the sofas near a window. 

“I find that very hard to believe” you said, looking around. 

“Why do you always think I’m lying?” James asked, placing his hand on the sofa, behind you. 

“Because I’ve known you since I’m eleven?” you replied, making him glare at you a little. 

“That hurts, love” he said, trying to sound offended. “When have I ever lied to you?” 

“Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that you, my brother, and Peter became Animagi to help Remus-”

“That was your brother. He didn’t let us tell you” he defended himself. 

“Alright” you said, trying to suppress your smile. “So, you’ve never lied to me?”

“Never, love” he insisted.

“Not even to avoid hurting my feelings?” you raised your eyebrow at him and noticed him tense a little. 

“N-no, of course not” he said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“So, last Christmas when you invited us over and your mum was teaching me how to cook, you actually liked the Christmas Pudding I made?” 

“Of course I did” he chuckled. 

“James” you glared at him. 

“Yes, love?” he smiled, goofily at you. 

“I mistakenly added salt instead of sugar, it was ruined” you laughed. 

“No, no. It wasn’t ruined. It gave it a new better taste” he shrugged. 

“James!” you laughed. 

“What? It’s true! I liked it” he insisted. 

“Nobody else ate it! You can’t possibly think it was good” you laughed. 

“Well, I did” he shrugged, turning your way. 

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?” 

“Oh, and you’re not?” he laughed making you smile. “Have you… always been this beautiful?” 

“That’s so cheesy, Potter, even for your standards” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks burning. 

“Wait… do you-? Do you not believe me?” he asked, his tone getting serious. 

“I- um… I do” you said, unconvincingly. 

“You don’t” he said, turning himself to you. “It is one thing that you don’t believe that I liked your Christmas Pudding-”

“You didn't” you insisted. 

“But how can you not believe me about that?” 

“I do!” you insisted. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid” you smiled sadly, looking at your drink. 

“No, you’re not” James insisted, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him. “What’s going on, love? Did- did I say something wrong?” 

“No!” you quickly said. “You never say anything wrong” you smiled sadly. “It’s just… I’m not really used to um… hearing that” you said, feeling your cheeks blush. 

“Love, I tell you that every single day! Why is it so hard for you to believe me?” 

“Because, James, look at my entire family” you said, sadly. “You know who I live with. My mother is not warm and loving like your mum is. I grew up very differently than you” you reminded him, making his look turn soft and his heart break a little. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me” you added. “It’s just… not easy for me to believe it, I guess” you smiled sadly. 

“Well, love” he said, moving closer to you and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I will keep saying it until you believe me” he told you. “Because you are the most beautiful person that I have seen in my life. And, since apparently I haven’t been as obvious as I thought I was, I am completely and madly in love with you and I would love to take you out on a date” he said, making your heart stop. 

“R-really?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows at you. “I m-mean, y-yes, I would love to go on a date with you” you smiled. “And… in case you didn’t know because I’m horrible at this… I am very much in love with you too” you added, making the biggest smile appear on James’ face. “And I also think you’re really beautiful” you said before he pulled you in to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you, beautiful” he said, making you smile. 

“I love you too, Jamie” you said. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Anything” he said.

“Do you like Peppermint Toads?” you asked suddenly, remembering your conversation with Regulus. 

“Do I uh-” he frowned. “Why are you asking me that?” he chuckled nervously. 

“You always give me Peppermint Toads when you say you bought too many but… I don’t think I’ve seen you have one” you explained. 

“Well, love… I hate to break it to you, but nobody likes Peppermint Toads” he admitted. 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is” he said, kissing your cheek. “I just bought them because you always smiled when I gave them to you” he said. “So, I’ll buy you as many as you want” he said, hugging you to him and giving you another peck on the lips. 

"Thanks, love" you smiled. "Can you now tell me if you actually liked my Christmas Pudding?"

"I did!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it! :)

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

A redo of one of my most popular post! ~{ here’s the OG post 🖤🤍Void & Prism🤍🖤}~ Enjoy!

Void and Prism

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After a long day of school and than dealing with ghosts all Danny wanted to do was go to sleep but that’s when tragedy struck as Danny was changing back into human form his parents come in and saw him

They just stared to the other for a few moments but for Danny it feels like hours, no one moved until Jack pulled out a blaster and shot him in the his side and he wailed at the pain and his yelling got Jazz’s attention and she come running to the door as Maddie tried to knock him out and put restrains on him when Jazz grab something [ was that a bat? ] and hit Maddie in the back of the head and grab Danny and ran to the portal when she’s trying to get the portal to open until trying to keep Danny awake and to get him to hold the area where he was shot to try to stop the bleeding

That’s when Jack and Maddie came in blasting [How is she still up?!] as the portal opens Jazz and Danny get hit by one of the blasts going through Jazz and into Danny but due to dying by an Ecto-Blaster she does not become a ghost but the second hit fully killed Danny and the force of the blast sent him flying through the portal and though something and all Danny can remember before he passes out is yelling [was that him or Jazz?] and something cold holding him it almost feels like the Void…..

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The Void was not used to visitors and they never would be [Not that they wanted to be, they don’t like people in their lair ever] so when they felt a core in their lair they expecting it to be like the last time something come in here but when they see the small ghosting with nobody else that could be their parents that makes The Void get closer to see them

But when they see that the baby is injured on their side The Void makes a decision and just thinks “MINE” and grabs the injured baby and brings them back to their nest in their lair and as they do they grab some of the void and bandage the baby’s side

A few hours later the baby wakes up in the nest and seems confused which is to be expected from the baby but a few seconds later the baby starts crying and wailing and starts to wrap them around us and lets them cry…

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After a few months [ or at least a while time is odd here ] and the Void and Danny grow closer even though he had to explain that he is not a baby and the Void says they understand but he doesn’t really believe them but they stoped calling him ‘Baby’ so he’s not really that upset about it

And they started to call him ‘Prism’ so progress….he guesses and he’s started to notice that he looks more….wispy? Airy..? let’s just go white Airy Like his hair [ that has grown out a bit ] and moves like there wind even if there isn’t and instead of the tail he has when flying fast it looks more like fog

So of course Danny ask The Void what is going on and The Void reveals that due to him always being in their lair [and didn’t get the core ripped out of him] his core and The Ghost Zone has recognized him as The Ancient of Creation the opposite of The Void [!!Explanation!! The last Ancient of Creation kinda dipped to get away from The Void and they needed a new one that wasn’t going to leave because of sharing a lair with The Void and picked Danny due to The Void actually liking this one]

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Now for the DC part of this!

As Tim was going through the time-stream looking for Bruce, He was walking around looking for anyplace he might be when was pulled into what looked to be a Void and a few minutes later he wakes up [he passed out when he was pulled in] as he stands up he looks around and in the far distance

There is a large black temple with white fog and accents on it and the areas plant life that is around it looks like it is fighting for its life but all around the temple is floating islands that look like it’s been slowly eat it kinda like how water corrodes some rocks it looks like that and the area where the sky or something should be there’s just…nothing

but Tim can’t think to much into it as that’s when he sees a person flying around close to him but just far away to not see him it looks like their looking for something and time hides not wanting to be seen by this mysterious but very powerful person..

Danny was flying around the edges their lair just to move around [who would have thought that The Void was so protective that they wouldn’t like it when he gets to close to the edges] when he feels a presents that was here and he had to find them before Void did [They Hated people in their lair at all much less without permission ] so he goes looking for them

So when he sees a flash of red from his side he turns and looks down that the…boy? How did he even get in here the entrance alone should have killed him?? [Clockwork] but now is not the time to be thinking about that as he had to get the boy out of here

So Danny floats down to where the boy is and ask who he is and why he’s here so Tim explains that his adoptive father is lost in the time-stream and everyone else believes that his adoptive father is dead but he knows his alive and Danny feels bad for this boy he has definitely not slept in days by the eye-bags and the general tiredness in his stance and wants to help this boy who he finds out his name is Tim [also due to his role he feels more sympathetic to things that past Ancients of Creation made and humans are one of them , the past Ancients of creation were either killed by The Void or dip giving up their role due to The Void]

Anyway so Danny grabs Tim’s hand and flys them both to where The Void main body is to explain to them to help [ and not to kill Tim ] which goods… surprisingly well Danny expected to have to protect Tim from them and The Void says they will help if Tim comes but some time for Danny and when ask why the just say “Enrichment” and Tim and Danny aren’t gonna push it so they leave it at that

The Void gives Tim a compass to show him where Bruce is and The Void and Danny send him on his way

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When Tim accepted the deal with The Void he was think that they would send a portal to come get him and he can just hang out with Danny for a bit and just do that for a bit

What he was not expecting was when he and other hero’s were stoping a cult that was try to bring back “The Great Calamity” and stuff Tim really didn’t care all to much [ not to mention that the Batfam fucked up and Tim is a bit mad at them ] that one of the cultists while they were fighting would finish the ritual and open portal but thankfully Constantine and Zatanna shut that down fast but not fast enough for one the The Great Calamity’s large hands [which look very familiar..hmmm] to grab him and pull him though the portal with them

So now here’s him sitting in the black temple with Danny by his side making and growing flowers and plants in his hands [ he tired to give one to The Void who was watching them but the Flowers disintegrated has soon as they touched :( ] but his chill right now and his sure the other hero’s are doing fine without him

[ What Tim doesn’t know is the chaos back home ]

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Now onto one of my fav parts the details!

For Danny I’m thinking this for what he actually looks like

And for hair

Not this complicated but you get the just of it

And here’s the “more” human from of The Void

And a photo of how Danny shows that he’s mad that The Void ~{ lol }~

The Void and Danny holding hands⬇️

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And that’s about it I hope you all like it! See you things that live it the walls later! Byeeee

[queers-gambit]

All Mine

title citation: song by Brent Faiyaz

prompt: ( requested ) you and Tangerine break up, and the man you date after is a serious downgrade. on a night out, Tangerine decides your story isn't yet finished.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 7k+

note: did i use this gif already? yes. but it fits the theme of this story.

warnings: same drill - Tan's government name is Aaron, Lem's is Brian. cheater!Reader (not on but with Tan, you'll see), some angst, break-ups, but overall hurt and comfort, happy ending, small NSFW, random "State Farm" quote (not sponsored), smoking indoors, brief domestic aggression, brief violence (it's Tan), term "going postal" used, not edited. "not all men" only applies to Tan i don't make the rules.

We begin today by discussing the concept of soulmates.

World renowned Ancient Greek philosopher, Plato (born Aristocles, not to be mistaken for Aristotle), once theorized that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and two faces. The Greek God, Zeus, motivated either by fear of man's potential power or the need to reprimand their arrogant pride, decided to punish humans by severing them into two perfect halves - dooming them to roam the Earth in search of their whole self.

According to Ancient Chinese mythology, The Red String of Fate (tied by the Lunar matchmaking God, Yue Lao) says lovers who are destined to be are tied together through lifetimes by a red string - the color that symbolizes happiness - regardless of time, place, or circumstance. This string might stretch or tangle (like all relationships), but will never break.

Some Western cultures believe in the idea of simple "soulmates", two people destined to meet and love one another unconditionally. They thought their souls are someway, somehow intertwined - be it in the stars, by the cosmos, or even some intrusive, baby-presenting, diaper-wearing, winged fucker named Cupid. "Soulmates" operate as two halves of one whole, yet still remain two separate individual persons. The idea originates from Plato's theory, but essentially affirms: there's a perfect someone for everyone.

Other cultures might say their religious deity or just faith in said religion is peoples one, true love. Some argue a "soulmate" isn't a romantic partner at all, but instead, a person's twin. You know, same womb, same "soul", that kinda reasoning.

Akin to the Greeks, theosophy claims God created androgynous souls, and these souls were individually split into the two genders they once were. Each half seeks the other, and when their karmic debt is paid (being a reason they were split in the first place), the two halves will return to their whole, true self.

and before anyone says anything about gender, remember, these theologies originate from a time that a modern day Taco Bell dollar menu burrito would literally make the theologists implode!

Some New Age philosophy says a soulmate is a totally separate entity (meaning, not split or derived from us), and who spends lifetimes as your friend, lover, co-worker, partner. Soulmates are the greatest union of the heart, no matter the shape or form it presents as; being two connected souls. Hence platonic soulmates, as well.

Other common literary soulmate idioms:

cut from the same cloth -> meaning being so in-tune and similar in characteristics, demeanor, and / or behavior, you "must've" come from the same place.

apple of my eye -> while, yes, it means being extremely important to a person, it also could mean being the "core" of your lover's heart and / or soul; similar to how an apple core keeps the fruit's integrity.

better / other half -> it's 2 am, this is pretty self explanatory.

ride or die -> again, self explanatory - but indicates that a soulmate will live life loyally with you in good and bad times.

match made in heaven -> being absolutely SO perfect for each other, your love was crafted by divine intervention in the eternal kingdom of heaven - where a thing or two about "soulmates" might be known.

my heart and soul -> your love being so strong, so right, it takes over logic and emotion; and intoxicates your very soul - your entire being.

No matter what approach you take, what you do or don't believed, there was no denying: Aaron was your soulmate.

That arrogant, smug, sarcastic, devilishly handsome, mysterious, devious, sneaky, alluring, intelligent, bitchy, suave, charming, intuitive, opinionated jackass who used the operative codename Tangerine.

But to you, he was Tan. Tangie. Aaron. Ace. The love of your life.

You couldn't avoid it. There was no wishing him away, no genie to appear for your third wish. There was no point in trying to avoid or deny your feelings anymore, they were an 18-wheeler and there was no crosswalk in sight; and that's where everything fell apart - realizing you were ready and willing for this emotion to come barreling into you. When things got serious, when you were ready for distinct, specific commitment, Aaron suddenly reared back and put so much distance between you, it was as if he catapulted into a different timezone.

You had been at a mutual friend's birthday party, and after several rounds of alcohol, where everyone was good and buzzed and happy in their own little worlds, incidentally toppled into a public showdown.

"What's the rush?" Aaron asked you, tears inconceivably dribbling down your cheeks one-by-one while stood in a packed-out bar. "Huh? What's your rush to get married? Things have been so good, doll - so fucking good - and you want to ruin that? This isn't - "

You barked, "'Ruin that'? Ruin, what, exactly!? Aaron, we've been together five years - five fucking years, half a bloody decade - how could you possibly say you don't know if you want to marry me or not yet!?"

"It's not you, love - "

"It's not me, it's marriage that scares you!?" You snarled, so used to hearing it, you can quote him.

"Yes!"

"It's the same difference! You love me, but marriage is so scary, it's not worth it, even with me! No matter how much you say you love me, right? You just can't - no, no! - you won't love me enough to marry me! Because you're capable of it, you're capable of loving me enough, but you're much more comfortable being an emotionless jackass - "

"No, no, don't go putting words in my mouth," he groaned, head tilting back, shaking his curls as he rightened to look at you. "Baby, just listen to me, please, neither of us are in a state to have this conversation - "

"We never are, according to you! It's never the right time, the right energy, right setting! What's the issue, Aaron? Huh?" You felt your anger crack and chip away like a hard boiled egg, revealing the soft emotion inside. "What's the real problem being with me? With marrying me?"

"We're just - we're so young!"

"Try again."

"You're just not thinking about - "

"Oh, no, but I am!" You snapped, setting your nearly empty glass to the bartop and shocking yourself (and the eavesdropping bartender) that it didn't shatter. "I am thinking, Aaron, I'm finally thinking about myself - for once - and I know what I want! And you know what? I'm not afraid anymore to ask for what I know I deserve!"

Aaron scoffed, shaking his head as he did when faced with confrontation. "Neither of us are drunk or sober enough to get though this conversation, so... Let's just..." He trailed, brows furrowing when you shook your head with a hateful scoff, yanked from his grip, and stormed away. But he quickly snatched your upper arm, halting your escape, demanding, "Wait, wait, wait, hang on, love. What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Away from you - "

"They haven't even cut the cake, baby, c'mon, the night is still early - "

"Excuse me while I don't want to stand around here with my ex-boyfriend in front of our friends pretending to be happy."

"What're you - ex-boyfriend?" He stuttered in genuine hurt and confusion.

In that moment, like divine intervention to semi-prove your point, Brian, Aaron's brother, who used the codename Lemon, dropped in. Tangerine let go of you to not make it look like he was holding you in place. "S-Sorry, I know this looks tense, but, uh, bruva," Brian showed Tangerine his phone, "we've gotta go, man..."

"We're in the middle of something, Lem."

"I get that, but... Duty calls, mate."

Tangerine sighed, hand through his hair, turning to you in what you used to think was real empathy. "I-I'm so sorry, love, I have to go - but we'll finish this conversation when I get home, okay? Yeah?

You sniffled and nodded sadly, "See? You see? You love your job more than me, that literally in the middle of a fight about marriage, you're gonna go. Did you see how easy that was for you? Yet you can't love me enough? In a much less high-stakes situation?" With another nod, but this time out of realized confirmation, you breathed, "I'm done, Tangerine." He knew you were serious when you reverted back to his codename; stripping the personal warmth from your tone. "Okay? I'm done. I can't do this anymore, it's absolutely unfair. You've made it clear, you don't want to marry me, so, that's fine, but I'm not in the business of wasting anymore time than I already have. Now," you took a breath, "we can talk later about getting your shit outta my place, probably after your mission, but until then, just please, leave me the fuck alone."

You swore that was going to be the end. It was supposed to be. There was never supposed to be a relapse. Never an epilogue. The Tangerine / Aaron chapter was closed, the entire book was supposed to be closed!

But when you're single for the first time in five years, you kinda forget how to casually date.

There's dating apps, which, as some might know, is just a nightmare experience. There's sometimes local singles events - but they're not always the vibe you usually want to spend your energy on. Matchmakers were (apparently) thousands of wasted dollar. Dating coworkers is typically ALWAYS weird unless you're Jim and Pam, or Meredith and Derek, or whatever other couples TV romanticized. Reality dating shows? That air out all your business? PASS. Taking your mother's recommendations? PASS. Especially if she has her little "church friends" trying to set you up, too? HARD PASS. Sometimes, you just start praying for a hunky Italian Mobster to abduct you - it honestly sounds a little easier (read: this is sarcasm)! Your friends try to set you up, but it usually doesn't click, or it's a strange experience that makes you reject further offers. You could always hope a guy spills your coffee and offers to buy you a new one, which turns into you talk the day away - but life isn't a Glen Powell movie.

Oh, and don't even get me started on ghosting - fuck you if you ghost people, you immature coward.

So, sometimes, you get real lonely, start to feel a little self pity, like you made a mistake breaking up... And maybe you seek company in alcohol... And that alcohol can sometimes help you reminisce... Which exasperates the loneliness... And eventually, maybe that little devil on your should convinces your to text your ex... Which in turn, starts an entire precedent about it being "okay" to go back to him in times of need and desire, of desperation, sometimes of boredom, or even times of comfort.

Aaron had left you alone after the break up, he knew to give you space; so, when you start casually fucking about a year after ending things, it was you pulling all the strings. Women in power, ammirite? Though, Aaron didn't mind your use of him, he always thought the break-up was a fluke of some kind, something fleeting, temporary - hence why he left you alone to sort your feelings. Aaron knew he wasn't perfect, but neither were you; resulting in plenty of "negative" aspects of your relationship, but there were far more positives - more ups than downs - assuring you both know, this was real. This was love. This was true love. It was eternal and raw and passionate... But you couldn't wait forever for him to face his fears.

Until... One night, after hours in his sheets, from the side of his bed, you declared, "This was the last time, Aaron."

He watched you hook your bra, cigarette in his mouth. "Oh, yeah?" He mused, having heard it before. "All right, sweetheart. Same time next week, yeah?" Aaron laughed at his own joke, casually flicking ash into the bedside tray.

"No. I'm being serious, Ace," you sighed almost sadly. You stood to yank your panties and leggings up in one move; shifting your hips, wiggling a bit to adjust the feeling of tightly wadded cloth cutting through raw coochie. "Ryan and I, uh... We're, uh, you know," you cleared your throat, trying to situate your tee shirt without looking at him, "we're going exclusive."

"Uh-huh, is that so?"

"Yep."

"When was this decision made?"

"Oh, uh," you blanched, "the idea was proposed a couple days ago, but we're making it official tonight - "

"I've seen you 8 fucking times this week and it's only Tuesday - "

"I know - "

"What the fuck, Y/N!?"

You glared, "What do you want me to say, Aaron!?"

"That you're not being serious! We're supposed to be together, not whatever - "

"You knew that we were just fucking to blow off steam and fill certain voids, we weren't back together! You always knew one day, this was bound to happen."

"Why? Huh? Why fuck me, but date him?"

"Because you're allergic to committeemen and Ryan isn't!"

"So, why do you keep comin' around? Why keep comin' back t'me, huh? If he's willing to commit, why're you the one fucking around on him? With me?" But the look on your face said it all, making Aaron laugh spitefully, "Ohhh, no, oh, sweetheart. Oh, don't fucking tell me, doll, he's not fucking you right?"

"For fuck's sake, would you please get off your high horse a single moment just to fuck off - "

"Why else would you keep coming back?" He demanded, smug as could be. "Don't wanna date me, but you'll fuck me? Oh, poor Ryan must really be lacking - "

"I told you, this is the last time."

"Yeah, uh-huh, sure," he laughed, leaning back, hands behind his head. "They all always say that before they come crawling back in my bed."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" You snarled, feeling more hurt than you should've. And Tangerine could read it all over your face. "I told you every man I slept with - granted it's only been two this past year, but still - are-are-are you saying there's been others? That you haven't told me about? Have you been fucking other people while fucking me?"

"Hang on, love, listen, I didn't mean - "

"I think I need to go, this was a mistake - all of this - coming back here, fucking you. I need to go," you huffed, stepping into your Crocs (for a quick escape), and rushing to grab your jacket, purse, and keys. The entire time, Tangerine was trying to amend what he said, but it felt like the (final?) nail in the coffin you had been waiting on; assurance that you needed to be without Aaron. See, upon your casual fuck, you agreed to date and sleep with others if you wanted - you weren't exclusive - but for reasons deemed useless now, you were supposed to tell one another about other partners. And he couldn't even do that?

So, you left his flat, and when he followed you out, he saw you disappear at Olympic sped down the staircase - key to his place left on the hallway floor.

"Well, well," his elderly cougar neighbor leaned in her doorway, watching you go with crossed arms and a smirk, "looks like li'l miss is gone finally, huh? This mean you're available for dinner tonight?"

Tangerine snatched the key from the ground, "Not tonight, Mrs. Roberts."

"It's 'Ms' now," she informed, but Tan didn't even hear; just slipped inside his flat, shut the door, locked it, and stood in the foyer, palm flat, looking at the key as if it were a foreign object, for 37 minutes.

Knowing how upset you were, Tangerine didn't try to contact you. Yet one week after your fight, when he knew your standing "Soul Cycle" class took place and you'd came by after, he set up his flat. He got you dozens of apologetic roses all mixed with bright sunflowers and dotted with baby's breath - bouquets he put together himself. Candles lined the place, all lit within fire code restrictions. He played light, modern instrumental music because he knew it had been on your Spotify playlist - not that he was checking it or anything. He cooked your favorite meal by hand. He cleaned himself up, styled his hair, wore the cologne you got him for your first Christmas together (that he's never changed), and wore the baby blue button-up he knew drove you crazy. To top it all off, he got a very dainty golden bracelet - one that was nice enough to convey the amount he spent (as if money = sincerity of apology) but still simple enough that Ryan wouldn't notice if it became part of your normal jewelry box. In fact, nobody would - except you and Tangerine, the way he likes things. The bracelet is even engraved with a subtle 'A' because no matter who you date, he always knew you'd be his and he'd be yours - but wouldn't point this out to you... Yet.

Your class ends at 6:30, you were never later than 7:05. He was ready and waiting at the door, going over his apology by 6:15. He changed into a new, identical shirt at 6:33 after sweating through the first; drying himself, spraying extra antiperspirant over his torso. He changed the tissue wrapping of his offering bouquet so it wasn't wet from his sweaty palms when he gave it to you at 6:41. At 6:46, he began pacing. Aaron began impulsively checking his phone at 6:53. He didn't have your location anymore (a con to the break-up he strongly protested out of fear for your safety) so he couldn't check if you were lost, in trouble, in traffic, at that smoothie place you loved. 7:15 rolled around, no key in the lock. At 7:22, he called Brian in a panic.

"What's wrong? She's just late, Aaron, take a breath, mate."

"She's never late."

7:30 turned to 8... Then to 9... And finally, at 10, Tangerine realized you were serious - that was the last time together.

The hurt suddenly set in, realizing you're not coming back. Selfishly, he knew, he could fill a void no man - even one as objectively good as Ryan - could. He knew you must've felt lonely; craving adventure and spontaneity, something exciting that he knew you lacked with Ryan - or any man.

For days, he agonized - trying to get in your head.

Without him, were you lonely? His job makes him travel, but did Ryan ever take you anywhere? Did he surprise you? Open your doors? Send you flowers? Keep you waiting? Did Ryan communicate with you in the way Tangerine knew you preferred? Was he kind? ...Were you alone?

He knew for a fact, when together, no matter what, he never made you feel unloved, under appreciated, devalued, taken for granted, but perhaps that changed when he began his allergic reaction to the prospect of marriage.

Two years. Two years since breaking up. One year since you ended your Friends with Benefits situationship. One year, you've been with Ryan, and by God, did it drive Aaron insane. For months, Brian felt a responsibility for his part in pulling Tan away that night instead of leaving him to work things out with you, but his brother assured it was a long time coming... Though, Tan had to admit, he never thought it'd go this long.

Like a good neighbor, Jake from State Farm is there! But like a good brother, Brian is there to take Aaron out for a night of necessary debauchery. This was an otherwise mundane activity, something to blow off steam and remove oneself from reality - yet fate works in really funny ways.

The club Lemon chose was packed to the brim; stuffed with bumping, sweaty bodies; strung out to blaring music in various zombified states induced by drugs, alcohol, or maybe both. Luckily, their group had an elevated position in the club's VIP seating, keeping away from the dance floor; giving limited advantage in height when surveying the area.

That's how Tangerine saw you after a year.

Judging from the glittery sash and cheap tiara on your friend's head, he guessed you were there for a birthday party; feeling his stomach knot itself into a noose when he noted Ryan hovering around your flank. He wore khakis, loafers, a creased, pale yellow button-up he guessed was thrifted; holding his drink in one hand, the other shoved in his pocket, bobbing and nodding awkwardly to the thumping music.

When you moved, so he Ryan. When you threw back a shot, Ryan looked away with a long, heavy sigh and curled lip. When you tried to dance, Tangerine saw Ryan snatch your upper arm to reprimand directly in your ear; a couple of your friends even shooting him looks of distain.

A hand clapped heavily on his shoulder, Lemon appearing at Tan's side. "Only you would come t'a club, mate, crawlin' with babes, yeah?" He gestured to the scantily dressed women dancing provocatively around them with his hand holding a drink, "And stand here, like-like, you're Lurch or some shit!"

"'Lurch'?" Tangerine repeated, eyes never straying from where you were in an obvious disagreement with Ryan.

"Like - you know - from the Addam's Family? Tall fucker? Just stands 'round, leering?" Lemon listed intentionally, seeing his brother unmoving. "Jesus, fuck, mate, just go talk to her already! Swear, you stand here any longer, watchin' people, they'll toss us out 'cause of the complaints. Shape up, mate, time t'shit or get off the pot. Move it."

Tangerine finally adjusted his stance, sniffling, shaking his head, "Nah, mate, don't know what you're talkin' 'bout - "

"She's right fuckin' there," Lemon pointed, outing his brother completely, "and you've been a bitch for too long about this. When are you gonna get another chance like right now? Swallow your fuckin' pride, yeah? And just go talk to her! Go apologize! Get her back! 'Cause, just look at her, mate," Lemon paused, both watching you, "think she's happy with a bloke like that? Treats her like that? Only time I ever saw her look at you like that was the night youse two broke up..."

Lemon offered a pursed-lip-smile, patting Tangerine on the shoulder twice and backing up a couple paces. It was like he watched the final bit of confidence Tan needed inject itself into his heart; shoulders almost doubling in size as he shed his suit jacket too casually. Lemon materialized to accept it, laying it in their private booth as Tangerine lit up a cigarette, pocketed his solid gold cuff links, and began rolling up his sleeves while surging through the VIP section and into the general population.

Lemon followed swiftly, several others on their tail as the promise of excitement was too good to pass up.

"I'm telling you, you're being fucking embarrassing!" Ryan was heard snarling. "Let's go home before you make it worse! I have a reputation to protect, imagine what anyone would say if they saw my girlfriend acting like a fucking fool!"

"Oh, Jesus, I have two shots and you think I'm wasted? That I have to go home? You think you can treat me like I'm some child? I'm not going anywhere with you," you snapped back.

"I told you we'd be here an hour - it's past that - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, it's a birthday party! We weren't ever going to stay just an hour!"

"You're embarrassing yourself, now let's fucking go!" Ryan grabbed you again to emphasize his point, but you didn't even get a chance to struggle because Tangerine was imposing himself between you; plucking his smoldering cigarette from his lips, French inhaling the smoke. Ryan snarled, forced back a step, "The fuck - "

"She said she's not going anywhere with you, so I suggest you walk away," Tangerine growled, smoke billowing from his lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ryan scoffed, looking close to laughing.

"That's my girl you're fucking with, so, again, walk away," he lifted his cigarette for a puff.

"Tangie," you spoke gently, holding the back of his designer black shirt and gently tugging him backward, "Tangie, c'mon, baby, back up, let it go."

"'Your girl'?" Ryan actually laughed at Tan, not hearing you over the deafening music, but the two men were clear as day to one another. "Got it fucked up, playboy, if you're tryna tell me what's what about what's mine."

"Yeah?" Tan nodded, grinning slowly. "Think she's yours?"

"She ain't nobody else's - "

"That why she was coming to me this whole time?" Tan taunted. "'Cause you couldn't make her nut, couldn't fuck her right. What a fucking shame, then she had to come to me 'cause I don't disappoint her. She likes the way I fuck 'cause it's the only time I get rough with her, not like you - "

The gathered crowd gasped when Ryan swung first - everyone saw it. The punch never landed, Tangerine keeping you behind him as he adjusted to upper cut Ryan. It spurred an entire altercation; your girlfriends quickly scurrying out of the way as Ryan and "his boys" tried to take on Tangerine, Lemon, and their entourage. The smoldering cigarette was dropped. Security had to step in, blood making the linoleum floors slicker than spilt alcohol made it sticky, both parties being escorted out of different exits of the venue.

You were faced with a decision.

"Y/N! C'mon!" The birthday girl called, holding up her bloodied boyfriend. Ryan paused and glared at you, face fucked, nose broke, eye darkening, jaw swollen, blood smeared; waiting for your decision. You shook your head and let the drunken crowd swallow your form.

Unsure how, you were let into the VIP section to grab Tangerine and Lemon's belongings, quickly jogging in your glittering heels towards the back exit.

"Should've fuckin' killed him - did you fuckin' hear him!? You saw him, what he did!?" Tangerine was raging, pacing the alley as his group watched on; unsure what to say or do to calm him down. "He fucking grabbed her, too, should go find him - put his fucking face in the Goddamn pavement - "

"Hey."

Tangerine froze when your voice was heard, meekly standing there with suit jackets in arm.

"Baby girl!" Lemon barked, laughing happily and opening his arms. "Oh! There she is! C'mere!" He happily growled, hugging you tightly. The others picked up on the hint, excusing themselves to find the cars while Lemon greeted you and Tangerine almost shit a brick.

"Oh, uh," you breathed when Lem pulled away, "I grabbed your jacket, sweetie."

"Thanks, love, can always count on yah," he beamed, accepting the apparel. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "I, uh, I'll go help find the car. We'll be at the end of the alley, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding; squeezing his arm softly before letting him pass. Almost sheepishly, you approached Tangerine, lips rolled between your teeth, noting the split lip and disheveled curls. His hands were on his hips, pacing a small circle, head tilted and unable to meet your gaze. "You, uh, got a li'l something," you gestured at your mouth.

His head lifted, seeing the small teasing glint to your eyes; making him smirk and joke back, "Yeah, just a bit, huh?"

"And you left this," you held out his suit jacket.

When he took it back, Tangie nodded and rushed, "Come home, doll."

"Aaron - "

"Nah, nah, c'mon, come home, baby, please. I know I've been the worst, I know you didn't deserve it - but after losing you... Actually losing you... I mean, when you didn't show up, like you said - I felt everything at once and I knew that I'd never be the man who deserved you, but I owed it to us to try. So... I made the decision to love you better."

"That's nice to hear, but - "

"But without action, it don't mean shit, I know," he finished for you, stepping closer to caress your cheek. "If you let me, baby, I swear, I'll love you better."

You couldn't verbally answer, just sigh and lean forward to rest your forehead on his chest for just a moment of peace. "Thank you," you mumbled, "for earlier, when Ryan got aggressive."

His arms came around in a vice, keeping you close and enveloped in his warmth. Tangerine promised, "Never gotta thank me, baby. Never." A horn blared from the mouth of the alley, knowing it was Aaron's people and you needed to make a decision. Right here. Right now. Yet, your ex just sighed and pulled away, offering, "We can drop you home, if you like. Or I'll get'cha a hotel, can crash with Brian - "

"Can I stay with you?"

Tangerine gulped, appearing shocked but agreeing, "Of course, baby, yeah, yeah, 'course, c'mon, let's go, this way, watch your step, love."

He quickly dropped his arms only to pull his jacket over your shoulders; keeping you at his side as he lead you to the idling car. Unknown to you, Ryan was at his own car, watching, waiting; seeing you leave with Aaron made his blood boil - but when his eyes connected with Aaron's over the roof of his car, seeing him grin, Ryan swore he could've gone postal.

"Are you guys alright?" You checked, Tan keeping you so close, you were practically on his lap. Brian was driving and two other guys sat passenger, all giving varying assurances that they were okay.

"Them frat fucks couldn't hit for shit, love, swear," Brian chuckled from the front seat. "Don't nobody fuck with our girl, yeah?"

"'Our girl'?" You repeated in amusement.

"You's Tangie's girl, yeah?" The guy next to you, codename Fuji, softly explained, "Makes you's untouchable, it does, yeah?"

You just chuckled slightly, readjusting so your arm around Tan's neck tightened; his own around your hips doing the same, silently snuggling closer. The car ride was entertaining to say the least, the lads filling the space with meaningless but very loud conversation about everything and nothing. To your relief, Lemon pulled up to Tan's building first; you two piling out of the car to the sounds of three randy lads cheering.

"C'mere," Tan huffed, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other offered the tinted car The Bird. He lead you towards the building, nodding to the doorman in greeting, "Big man."

This doorman had manned your building since years before you ever moved in; grinning at the sight of you, "Well, well, well... You two look real smitten, you do. There some reason? Aye?"

"Oh, I don't wanna hear it!" You whined jokingly, Tangerine laughing in triumph.

"Got my girl back," Tan clapped his hand into the doorman's, "huh? Told you."

"Aye-heeeyyyy! Welcome home, Missus!"

"Tuh," you barked with a fake laugh, sending Tangerine a sharp look over your shoulder. "Thank you, Thomas," you squeezed the man's arm as you passed.

"Ma'am," he tipped his hat, letting Tan go after you, before securing the door shut.

"Hear that?" You shot at Tan, the lobby attendant sitting up in attention behind the welcome desk. "Even Tom - "

"Don't start before we even get in the door," he chuckled, sighing, nodding to the pimply teen nephew of the building's owner before approaching the elevator bay.

"Don't be a dick - "

"I'm not trying to be, love, I just - I want us to get inside before we do. Yeah?" He frowned, petting hair from your forehead as the elevator dinged upon arrival. "I want us to talk 'bout it, alluvit, doll, but let us get home first."

You sighed and agreed, the machinery traveling up to your flat's floor; which required a key to access. There were only four flats on this floor - all having two stories - and when the elevator dinged to announce your arrival, one of the doors flew open.

You gasped, hand slapping to your mouth to hold in the shrill laughter that rammed into your lips in a desperate attempt to escape. Your eyes widened. You stopped short in your place when Ms. Roberts sauntered into her doorway, leaning on the frame in brand new, expensive, racy lingerie. Her greying hair was curled in stiff ringlets, her make-up heavy and obvious, smelling like she had bathed in perfume by the way it choked you in the hallway.

"Oh, hello, there. About time you got home - OH!" She purred in a low, sexy rumble before jumping in fright when she caught sight of you under Tangie's protective arm. With a squeal, she ducked back into her home and slammed the door; leaving you and Tan froze in place.

"Oh... My... God."

"Get inside, let's go, c'mon, inside, inside, inside, I won't survive if she comes back," Aaron laughed, ushering you to the door.

"I don't think she would, either," you couldn't help but giggle; entering over the threshold after Tan unlocked the door.

The lighter energy surrounding you two evaporated as you took note that Tangerine hadn't changed anything in the year (and change) you've been separated, a haunting comfort to see now. There was the familiar ghost of who you once were, but all of that was forgotten when Tan's hand slid around your waist from behind.

"All right, love?" He asked in your ear, mouthing at the shell in the way that made your head fall to the side.

"Just a lot of memories here," you whispered, holding his arms to your waist.

Tangerine licked at your exposed neck. "We'll make more," he promised.

"I'm sorry I missed so many."

He paused, sighing; forcing you to shiver from the shock of air over your wet skin. Tan straightened up but kept you in his arms, assuring, "It's my fault. But, uh..." Your head turned to look, watching Tan pull his wallet out and sigh sheepishly, open it, then pluck a gorgeous diamond ring from the bill slot.

"What the hell is that...?"

"When I found it, I first kept it in the box, always on me. Just in case, you know, the moment was right - that you'd believe me when I ask you to marry me. But the box kinda," he shrugged, "fell apart from me openin' it, movin' it around."

"So you put a," you squinted, holding his wrist to look at the ring pinched in his fingers, "3 karat diamond ring in your wallet?"

"3 and a half..."

"Aaron," you sighed, turning to face him fully; unable to tear your gaze away from the ring. "I don't want this ring if - "

"No, no 'ifs'," he rushed, "I swear, it's what I want - it's what I've always wanted and just couldn't admit. After tonight, I don't think I can keep this ring - it needs on your finger and that bastard needs put in the ground - "

"Can you not ruin this proposal by threatening to murder my ex?" You laughed, watching his split lips spread into a grin.

"This a proposal?"

"If you word it right, could be."

"Lemme get on my knee - "

"No," you stopped him, nodding, whispering, "just ask me."

Aaron blinked once in confusion, then simply asked, "Will you marry me?"

You levitated into his arms; arms coiling around his neck; lips to his; sucking air from his lungs into yours, mumbling, "Yes, yes, yes," repeatedly. In surprise, Aaron stumbled back a few steps but caught himself, chuckling, fully hoisting you into his embrace.

"Right answer," he teased, carrying you through the apartment and to the nearest piece of furniture - the couch. Dropping down with you straddling his lap, he chuckled, "Here, put it on, yeah? Keep it safe." You grinned and accepted the ring, letting him slide it on, but unable to admire it in full as it became a free-for-all frenzy; tearing clothes from the other, lips suckling, teeth clashing, spit smearing. Breaking apart for a moment, Tangerine growled, "I don't know if I love or hate tonight, huh? Seein' you with him, sayin' you'll marry me, comin' home - "

"Ace, Tangie? Baby?" You smirked, holding his cheeks to keep his face in front of yours, "Tonight's good - it's a good night. Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"It's a good night - say it."

"A good night - great night."

"Great fuckin' night," you agreed, "now, I need you to fuck me before I spontaneously combust - "

Aaron's mouth was on yours before the words were fully formed. You gasped, holding on tightly, encouraging his tongue to tangle with yours as the night's emotions overtook you both in a searing heat of passion. His hands planted on your hips and began guiding your movements in slow, languid strokes over his growing bulge you were seated on.

With a small growl, Tangerine pulled back only to flip you over; laying your back to the cushions so he could hover over you, his hips grinding between your spread legs. "Mine," he grit, licking into your mouth as he pushed his cock directly into your moistening center, "all mine. Hear me? All fucking mine - you won't ever be with another man. Yeah?"

You weakly whimpered, nodding; his teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling. Your breast was palmed by a hot and heavy hand; gasping when Tangie pinched your nipple through the fabric of your dress.

"Nah, nah, nah," Tan grumbled, "wanna hear you say it, baby. Need to hear it."

Boldly, you reached out to rub the heel of your palm into his leaking member, managing to speak against his lips, "I'm all yours, Aaron. Never anyone else's."

"Yeah?" He grit.

"Yeah," you nodded, giving a flex of your hand that made his shoulders stiffen, "and no other man will know me - nor will I know another man. It's you and me."

"About fuckin' time; ain't never lettin' you go again, baby," he breathed, taking both wrists in his to pin over your head. "Now... Let me make up for this past year."

Ms. Roberts wore noise canceling headphones the entire night and began researching new apartment buildings available for move-in ASAP.

Dawn broke, filling the room with a warm, bright light that accentuated the smoke wafting from Aaron's mouth. Neither of you got any sleep; exhausted in the best way possible, laid in bed, your head on his shoulder with arms bent to mindlessly twiddle together in the air.

"Remember that first retreat your company sent employees on?" Aaron asked softly, his other hand flicking his cigarette ash into a nearby ashtray.

"Hm... The one to Cancún?"

"Yeah."

"The one I missed 'cause we had a 48-hour romp?"

Tangerine laughed slightly, "That's the one."

"What about it?"

"Just... Laying here made me think of it. How fucked-out you were, how you missed your damn plane."

"You made me miss it!"

"That sounds accusatory."

You grinned when he lowered the cigarette to your lips, letting you puff it before pulling away. On exhale, you reminded, "You're the one who couldn't cut me a damn break."

"Since when do you want me to go easy on this pussy? Huh?"

With a snicker, you mused, "When you're whiskey-drunk and I'm drinking champagne?"

Tangie paused, then nodded, "Yeah, all right, that's fair. Whiskey dick ain't a joke, love."

You hummed and turned on your side into him, hiking your leg over his hips; snuggling into his warmth, new angle allowing you to gaze up at him. His arm laid around you in a secure hold, the other lazily smoking. You added, "Neither is being champagne drunk, makes me queazy."

"Probably not the best combination for fucking, huh?"

"I don't recommend it."

Aaron was quiet a moment, inhaling toxic smoke with a hiss through his teeth, "Bet they got champagne on them planes to Cancún."

"Bet they got champagne for other destinations, too," you teased. "Besides, why do you care? You're banned from popping bottles."

"Huh? Since when - why?"

"Since you sprayed me with a bottle that cost more than $3,000 USD!"

"If I can't spray my girl in luxury, what the fuck is this all for?" He smirked, looking down at you fondly.

"That bottle was meant to shmooze the German Ambassador!"

"Well, someone should've put a label on it!" You laughed his name, feeling his arm tighten. He tacked on, "Y'know, I gotta admit, just doesn't feel real yet."

"Hmm?"

"You... Back in my arms, in our bed - our home," he gave a great big deep sigh.

"It'll get real when people know we're back together."

"Is it wrong I want it to just be us for a bit? Private, intimate, just being together without everyone's outside influence or opinion?"

You smiled softly, "No, it's not wrong... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the same."

"Then how about we catch a flight outta here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he beamed, suddenly struck with renewed vigor; positively radiating with excitement. You pulled off his chest in time for him to sit up, insisting, "Let's do it all again, baby. Let's catch a flight, change the weather to celebrate us promising forever."

"Tangie, baby, what're you talking about? We can't just up and leave - "

"Why not?"

"We have jobs! Or at least, I have a job with a consistent schedule."

"Oh, c'mon, doll, don't think too hard - let's go, let's catch a flight somewhere warm and sunny."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Tangerine shrugged, "Not likely. Can think of it as some engagement celebration - but just between us. I mean, it's never gonna be 'just us' again, you know?"

With a sigh, you agreed, "All right... Let's go."

"All right?"

"Yeah, all right, fine."

"Yeah? All right? Fine?"

"Oh, fuck about - don't parrot me, Aaron!"

He chuckled with a grin so wide, you wondered how it didn't split his face in two. Your fiancé playfully dropped onto your front; jostling the bed, arms planted on either side of you to keep his weight balancd while dotting rapid kisses around your face.

When satisfied, he pulled back and all but bounced out of bed while encouraging, "Let's go, c'mon!"

"Baby, wait - "

"You grab the passports, I'll pack for us!"

You paused to watch him rush into the walk-in closet, laughing and muttering as you climbed out of bed, "I'm gonna be in questionable clothing this whole vacation, aren't I?" There was a fond smile on your face.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[jezebelblues]

saturn bound | h.s

summary: in which the world ends in your point of view, alongside your husband.

cw: death, angsty-ish i guess? unedited, grammatically correct in upper case if that tickles ur fancy.

word count: approx 1.4k. she’s a shortie

| this is in first person! (perspective of you, as reader) i was iffy about a 1st perspective so i edited in both 2nd and 3rd, but 1st person felt right. sorry if u hate, ladies.

masterlist

No one would remember me as YN, no one would remember my husband as Harry.

As the world crumbled into its final moments, you’d think that chaos would envelope everyone whole. That people would be running, screaming, fighting, as if they could somehow wrestle with the jaws of fate. Mothers clutching their children, fathers desperately barking orders to no one, families collapsing under the weight of hopelessness. Dogs howling into the wind after their selfish owners sped off, children sobbing as the air itself seemed to shudder with terror. A cacophony of fear.

You’d imagine fear cause these people knew their life was going to end.

And it was there undeniably, fear. Not the frantic kind, though. A different one—a quiet terror that settled deep in the bones, cold and ancient, like the Earth itself had finally whispered its last breath into our ears. It didn’t matter what was ending us—whether the dead were clawing from their graves, or if the sky had split apart and let loose the fires of heaven, or some disease had snatched us, unseen, from within. It didn’t matter. Not really. Because the truth was simple, inevitable: today, all life on Earth would be snuffed out, and we would become nothing—a floating spec of a forgotten afterthought.

There would be no future, no one left to carry the stories of humankind forward. No history books filled with our triumphs and tragedies. There would be no mourning of our extinction, the things we took for granted. Earth would be a blank—unknown, just one of countless casualties of time. If there was anyone out there in the universe with us, the children of this planet, would be memories swept away like dust, if even that. There would be no tears shed for us. The universe, so vast, would hardly notice our passing.

Some prayed. Desperation forced them down to their knees, begging for salvation, for some kind of afterlife, something more beautiful than their end. The thought of death so terrifying that they’d hope and pray they’ll end up in heaven—hell, even. Anything other than nothing, than eternal darkness. I understood, in a way, because nothing is scary—we’re alive, we’ve never experienced it—it’s impossible to wrap your mind around nothing.

Others drank. I joined them, a bottle of tequila in hand, the burn numbing me just enough to make peace with the fact that I would die today. And my Harry, the man that gave me his last name, would die beside me.

Harry Styles, the man the world adored, the man I called my husband—sat next to me, his head resting softly against my shoulder. We watched as Saturn, impossibly close now, loomed over us, over our home, like an executioner asking for our final words. Its rings shimmered, casting a glow that drowned out the stars. The air was thick with sobs, with whispered prayers. People clung to each other like lifelines, as if the touch of another human might hold them here, in this world that was no longer theirs. Some screamed, but most just stood and stared, watching death arrive with a strange, defeated calm—a cobra swaying in dance before striking its prey.

Harry’s hand found mine, gripping it tightly as if to stay grounded. He tried to pray, the fingers on his left hand trembling with the grasp of his cross pendant, but his voice cracked, breaking on the words. Tears ran down his face, but I couldn’t cry. There was nothing left in me to give to hope or fear. Once, faith could’ve been my anchor, but now it felt like a lie I might tell myself to feel safe. There was no safety here. There was no escaping this.

And so I watched, as those I had once called neighbors, friends, fought against the inevitable. They ran, though there was nowhere to go. They screamed, though no one could hear. They prayed, though no god would answer. It was almost pathetic, the way they clung to the last shreds of life. But maybe it gave them some comfort. Maybe that was all anyone wanted in the end—their last conjured thought to be at least I tried.

"You know-” he trailed off softly, his voice breaking the stillness between us, "I always thought we'd have more time. That mayb-” He sighed. “Maybe we'd get old together."

His words struck me like a blow. "I thought so too." I whispered, feeling the ache in my chest grow heavier. It felt so cruel, to have found this love, this overwhelming, all-consuming love, only to have it ripped away after two years of marriage. "We deserved more, H.”

My husband’s thumbs ran circles upon the back of my hand, his tears glistening in the glow of Saturn. His lip quivered, voice shaky. “We can be old now.” He sent me a sad smile, pressing a kiss into my temple. “Happy fiftieth anniversary.” He murmured, playing with the ring on my finger.

I couldn’t stifle the whimper that fell from my grin, nodding to his words. I stared at his wedding band that shimmered in the light before passing the bottle of tequila between us—a toast. To fifty years of marriage. That would’ve something to drink to.

One swig turned into three, three turned into five. It had helped stopped the tears eventually.

Harry turned to me, his face inches from mine, and I could see the weight of the world in his eyes—a humorous irony, really, now that we really are practically weightless as we pull into Saturn’s gravity. He raised a hand, cupping my face so gently, as though I were something precious that he didn't want to break.

"If I could choose how it all ends," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips, "I'd choose this—here with you. If this is the last thing I feel, the last thing I see, then maybe it's not so bad."

Alcohol couldn't stop the tears then. They spilled over, warm and unrelenting, because what else could I do? I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling as the world began to fall apart around us. The rumble of the Earth cracking, the low roar of Saturn's tug—it all seemed so distant, so unimportant.

"I don't want to lose you." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

"You won't, YN." His voice was unwavering, as if he had the book of answers hidden in his pocket. His thumb brushed over my cheek while his lips parted once more. "You'll always have me. Always."

And then he kissed me. It wasn't desperate or rushed. It wasn't the kiss of two people saying goodbye, just an I’ll see you later. It was slow, soft, full of everything we had been to each other. His lips were warm, delicate, and for a moment I could pretend the world wasn't ending. I could pretend that all we had was time.

Saturn’s light bathed the earth in colors that had never seemed so tragically gorgeous—deep purples, blues, and grays, all spinning around the our dying planet. The rings twisted and churned in the sky, pulling our world apart piece by piece, and the wind howled as if it cried for us. The stars dimmed, one by one, turning away from the spectacle of our destruction, unable to bear witness. Maybe they chose to die along side us, not letting Earth go through it alone.—like they were the only ones who’d mourn our death. I silently thanked them, though inanimate, I swear I could feel their empathy.

Harry gripped my hand tighter, his skin warm against the cold air. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. Our foreheads met again, a united front. His green eyes met mine, full of sorrow, of love, of things unsaid. I wanted every one of the five senses to envelope only him. Our last moment to be together, not watching the world collapse, but here, in this space we had carved out between us.

I kissed him. One last time. The taste of salt from his tears mingled with the liquor on my lips. “I love you.” We whispered together, our voices lost in the roar of the sky falling apart.

And then it was gone.

The cold sank into my bones, but it no longer mattered. My heart slowed, and the world around me faded. No more breath in my lungs, no more blood in my veins. Just the void. And as we drifted into that nothingness, I held onto one final hope—that there is some sort of afterlife, so I could find my Harry again.

Yet, the Earth was gone. It dissolved into the void like dust. The stars, too, blinked out one by one, and the universe spun on, indifferent. We were forgotten, nothing left to even decompose in our boundless grave. Perhaps the dead stars that’ll become something more will be our headstones—an indication we were once here.

But for now, it was as if we never existed in the first place.

btw if you feel like you’ve seen this before, i originally wrote this on wattpad in 2017. it was horrible :D but i liked the concept, so this is it readjusted. hope u enjoyed even just a lil <3

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter ii

Summary: A small gesture of concern from Lord James suggests a possible change in the dynamic.

Warning: Arranged Marriage. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 1390

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A/N: I was going to post this earlier but everyone asked for Cry Baby so you're getting both. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

The following days were as cold and unforgiving as the walls of Winter’s Reach. Every morning, you’d wake early, hoping to catch a slight glimpse of Bucky and perhaps try to engage in conversation. He remained elusive, seen only from a distance. His stern demeanor and closed-off nature seemed impenetrable as he trained in the yard or discussed with his men. 

Soughting ways to familiarize yourself with your new home, you were determined not to be deterred. The Reach staff had initially been distant, yet they gradually warmed to your kind and gentle nature. Taking it upon yourself to learn the names of the servants, you wanted to understand the daily workings of the House. And, bring a touch of warmth to the cold stone. 

Wandering through the dimly lit corridors, one evening, you found yourself drawn to the library. Towering shelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls in the vast room, a fire crackled in the hearth which cast warm glows over the worn furniture. You marveled at the wealth of knowledge contained within these walls as your fingers ran along the spines of the books.

Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the heavy door open behind you. It wasn’t until a shadow fell across the floor, startling you, that you turned. Bucky stood in the doorway, his expression was hard, annoyance etched in his features. 

“My Lord–” 

“What are you doing in here?” his sharp tone cut you off as he demanded.

You took a step back, his hostility wasn’t surprising. “I was admiring the collection. It’s a beautiful room.” 

His gaze trailed down to your hands as a particular old book lays in them. “This isn’t a tour you're on,” he snapped. “You don’t belong here, meddling with things you don’t understand.” 

“I’m sorry,” your voice was soft as you tried to keep it steady. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought–”

“You thought wrong,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “This place is filled with history you know nothing about. It is not your place.” 

You swallowed hard, trying not to look up at his looming figure. “I’m just trying to understand, connect with you in some way.” 

Bucky scoffed, tension evident in his posture. “This isn’t some fairy tale, Lady Romanoff. You’re here because of duty, nothing more, no happily ever after.” 

His words cut deep, a dagger twisting in the pit of your stomach. Yet, you refused to back down. “Fairy tales are all I know, Lord James. I know this isn’t one of them. Yet, we’re both here, and we have to make the best of it. I am willing to try, even if you are not.” 

For a moment, you could have sworn his expression softened as you finally met his gaze. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. But his walls built back up just as quickly. “Do what you want,” he said curtly. “But don’t expect any warmth from me.”

The chill that settled in your bones as he turned and left, leaving you standing alone in the library, made the fire suddenly feel insufficient. Sighing, you gently placed the book back on the shelf. 

You resolved to continue your efforts to make Winter’s Reach feel like home. Focus on exploring the grounds once more, familiarizing yourself with lands that now surround you, covered in frost and snow. 

Walking through the courtyard, you saw Bucky training with his men. His movements, precise and powerful, halted you. They reflected his years of discipline and experience. You admired him, and his skill. 

Granting him space, you turned your attention to the stables, where your horse was being kept along with the Reach’s. 

The stable master greeted you warmly. “Lady Romanoff, it’s a pleasure to see you here,” he said with a genuine smile weathering his face. 

“Thank you,” you replied, returning his smile. “I thought I might get to see Honeybreeze, it could do her good to ride around the Reach.” 

The man nodded, gesturing toward your beautiful, chestnut mere. “Here she is, gentle and sure-footed, perfect for riding.” 

As you patted Honeybreeze’s neck, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. Another unreadable expression greeted you as you turned, coming face to face with Bucky. He paused when he saw your smaller frame, irritation etched his face in an instant. 

“Taking up riding now, are we?” he asked, his tone clipped. 

You met his gaze, refusing to let his hostility deter you. “I’ve always rode, my lord. I thought it would be a good way for us both,” you gestured toward your horse, stroking your hand down her mane. “To familiarize ourselves with Winter’s Reach.” 

His eyes narrowed, however, they weren’t aimed at you. His gaze moved toward the stable master. “Make sure the lady is properly equipped for her ride,” he ordered the man before turning back to you. “The terrain can be treacherous, especially for outsiders. Be careful.” 

“I will,” you replied softly, you tried to keep your voice steady, not to show the pain his words caused. “Thank you for your concern.” 

“It’s not concern,” he scoffed, once more. The sound filled the air between you with bitterness. “Just practicality. We don’t need any unnecessary accidents.”

With that, he left you again. The stable master gave you a sympathetic look as he handed you the reins. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said quietly. “But, my lord wasn’t always like this. The war changed him.” 

You nodded, “I understand, thank you.” 

Mounting Honeybreeze, you guided her out of the stables, making your way toward the open fields surrounding Winter’s Reach. The air was crisp, and the expansive landscapes offered a sense of freedom. A brief moment of peace, away from the tension within Reach’s walls. 

Thoughts of your future husband returned to your mind as you rode. Despite his harsh exterior, you couldn’t help but wonder who the man was beneath the black and gold armor. 

Hours passed as you explored, and the cold air bit at your cheeks. Finally returning to the stables, dusk had almost settled over Winter’s Reach. Dismounting the horse, you handed her reins back to the waiting stable master. Thanking him, he nodded appreciatively and led your horse away, leaving you standing alone. 

Your mind reflected on the day's events as you made your way back toward the Reach. The hostility and bitterness from Bucky had been palpable, but you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. It was clear the way had left its mark on him, you wondered what had happened to transform him into the hardened man you were to marry. 

As you approached the entrance, you were surprised by Bucky standing there, waiting. His usual stern expression across his face. However, there was a hint of something softer in his eyes. 

“Did you enjoy your ride?” his voice gruff. 

You nodded, taken aback by his question. “I did, my lord. The land around your home is beautiful.” 

Looking away, his jaw tightened. “The Reach has its own kind of beauty,” he admitted.

“I would love to understand more of it,” you spoke softly. “And, to understand my future husband.” 

Bucky’s expression hardened again, his gaze meeting yours as a flicker of something else– perhaps vulnerability passed over his eyes. “There’s not much to understand. I’m a soldier, nothing more.” 

“I don’t believe that,” you replied gently, offering a small smile. “I think there’s more to you, more than you want to show.” 

For a second, he looked as though he might argue. Then, he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Maybe… if so, it’s buried deep.” 

You took a small step closer, daring to place your hand gently on his arm. “I’m willing to find it if you’ll let me.” 

He glanced down at your hand on his arm, another unreadable look passed through his eyes. Then, he stepped back, offering you a small nod. “Just… be careful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I will, my lord,” you promised, watching him walk away. For the first time, you felt like you had hope as you saw a glimpse of the man beneath the armor. 

Taking a deep breath, you continued on your way through The Reach, feeling a renewed sense of determination. You silently vowed to break through his defenses and uncover a heart worth loving and understanding. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[tangsakura]

Sukuna's Backstory Theory (+ mini Uraume Backstory Theory)

While we wait for jjk ch 265 leaks, I hope you enjoy reading this post of mine in the meantime.

Please note that this is just my theory. Also, Sukuna deserves to die.

Now enjoy your reading.

WARNING: MANGA SPOILERS UP TO CH 264; subject covers the following sensitive topics: sacred s*x, cannibalism, homosexual relationships; mentions or implications of abuse

Beginning:

We know from Sukuna himself in chapter 237 that he was an 忌み子 - a taboo child. In ancient and medieval Japan, a taboo child is a child that is ostracized, unwanted, and discarded.

JJK CHAPTER 237

As mentioned by Sukuna, he himself 'consumed' his twin to survive and had presumed that his 'foolish mother' (愚母 - he wasn't looking down on her, calling her stupid, but instead he was humbly referring to her) must have been starving.

JJK CHAPTER 257

Prominent families during that time were the Fujiwara, Sugawara and Abe clans. For sure, he wasn't born a noble, but rather a commoner, or worst, a slave. He must've been born with weak or below average CE, too, aside from his four arms, four eyes, and the second face.

It was probably only him and his mother in the beginning and she was the only one taking care of him. Given their supposed circumstances, Sukuna must've started working by the time he was around 5 or 6. Plus, if I were to guess where they would've lived, it would be in the agricultural lands of a Buddhist-Shinto temple. In Heian era, Buddhism and Shinto co-existed together (shinbutsu-shuugoo) so it's not strange to find Buddhist temples to have at least one small shrine dedicated to a kami (a Shinto god/goddess) [these are calles jisha (寺社)] and Shinto shrines accompanied by Buddhist temples in mixed complexes [these are called jinguuji (神宮寺)].

In addition, these institutions had these manorial estates called, shooen (荘園), which were "any of the private, tax free, often autonomous estates or manors...... developed from land tracts assigned to officially sanctioned Shintō shrines or Buddhist temples or granted by the emperor as gifts to the Imperial family, friends, or officials." In the case of shrines and temples with shrines in them, they are called mikuri (御厨), which means a god's/goddess' kitchen.

The Chinese characters for mikuri are the same as the first two letters of Sukuna's CT (御厨子). In the beginning, mikuri only referred to the place where shrine offerings/sacred food (fish, vegetables, etc.) were cooked, but it eventually also included the land or property where they get the offerings from and prepare them in the meaning. Plus, the citizens of these lands/properties were called "gods' & goddesses' people" (神人, shinjin), and these mostly consisted of the producers (fishermen, farmers, etc.). We can definitely infer that Sukuna has most likely worked in the cooking area of the mikuri, the 御厨子所 (mizushidokoro, a kitchen for the upper classes and the shrines and temples) Think about it, not only does he use words related to consuming, but he also referenced fish-related words.

JJK CH 224 - "A fish who merely has no name attached to it."

JJK CH 216 - "卸す" - to grate (e.g. vegetables); to cut up fish "三枚に卸す” - to cut you into three slices (fillet)

JJK CHAPTER 8 - "おろした" - past tense verb of 卸す "三枚におろした” - cut you into three slices (fillet)

(light blue is just to cover watermarks)

In Heian era, meat was forbidden except for some parts in Japan where hunting was really common (except for aristocrats and monks lowkey - they do eat them at times, especially when they fall sick). Fish was temporarily banned but was eventually lifted. So, majority of the Japanese people during this time period didn't eat meat with the exception of fish and other seafood. Moreover, when cooking the shrine offerings, the only meat they cooked was seafood. Plus, if he and his mom was in one of the shrine and temples in Heian-kyoo (present-day Kyoto), then chances are he had to cook for festivities and rituals in the imperial palace.

But then, how did he learn to read and write? The only one who were literate were the imperial family, aristocrats, Shinto priests, Buddhist monks, and anyone else related to religious institutions and higher rank than commoners. So the only available ways for him to have access to learning kanji (漢字 - Sino-Japanese characters) and even kana (hiragana and katakana) was to become an apprentice monk or priest. But I believe he became a Buddhist apprentice monk since it is more open than becoming a Shinto priest.

If he had started as a worker in the mikuri, he would have been secretly listening to the lessons between an apprentice and the older monk. Then, if he managed to prove his talent, he could have become an apprentice. If he were an apprentice monk, he would have to learn directly from an older monk. This would not stop him from working as a kitchen worker since he would have to help with preparing offerings and cooking for important occasions and guests.

As an apprentice, he would have learned everything about Buddhism, including how to preach to people. Unfortunately, there was a cost to this. It was the nanshuudou, the homosexual practice between a prepubescent apprentice monk and an older adult monk, which is heavily documented in Edo period but a practice that has been ongoing in the Shinto priest apprenticeships and eventually in Buddhist monk apprenticeship, as well. Mind you, this is not a practice between male lovers, but of loyalty and the first step to 'reaching enlightenment'. I think of it as a pseudo-sacred s*xual relationship. It is something expected at that time, but it may not have been a great experience for Sukuna. He was a taboo child, meaning even those older monks most likely made this harsher than it already was. Not to mention, he might have been as young as 7 or 8 years old when this all happened.

This was also sort of thought of by a JP theorist, according to this twitter user.

Anyways, let's move on from this sensitive topic.

You might be wondering why do I think he had been an apprentice monk and a cook? Well, mizushi (御厨子) also has these meanings.

Zushi (厨子) originally was a word for storage boxes for utensils and ingredients in the kitchen, then extended into becoming a storage for personal stuff and a decoration as well for aristocrats.

Zushi also extended to becoming a storage for Buddhism relics, scrolls or anything important. This includes the Buddhist altars. Thus becoming Mizushi, sacred storage.

Additionally, as an apprentice monk, he would be able to interact with nobility more. Buddhism was intertwined with the court politics in Heian era. This is more prominent when court officials and even the imperial family members, including the Emperor, would retire as Buddhist nuns or monks. Plus, there would also be visits by the officials and probably he was able to see or receive letters and poems from them. It would be inevitable that he learns them to communicate effectively.

This would also makes sense as he knew Tengen, who was an avid supporter of Buddhism.

Career as a Sorcerer:

In an era where the Fujiwara clan ruled supreme, leaving barely any crumbs for other aristocratic clans to take spots in the political arena. So, in order to consolidate their own power, many other clans (including the minor/weak branch families of the Fujiwaras) and Imperial princes went to obtain their own land outside of Heian-kyoo (present-day Kyoto) and even their own army. That's why these clans have armies of their own, especially those full of sorcerers. I won't be surprised if they took in anyone who has curse energy and trained them, just like what the Fujiwaras did with Uro.

So, I believe that someone noticed his cursed energy and his potential, then took him for training. Then obviously he would have met other Heian-era sorcerers. Here are my two cents on this:

I would like to believe that Tengen trained him as she was also an avid supporter of the religion, and he eventually met Kenjaku as they're 'friends' with her. Being a jujutsu sorcerer apprentice meant quitting or being part-time in his apprenticeship from the Buddhist Temple. (But I wonder if this would have stopped the pseudo-sacred s*x stuff.......) However, I'm open to the fact that it might have been another sorcerer who trained him (or there has been another one besides Tengen and Kenjaku who did so or influenced him) due to the name of his extension technique 'Divine Flames, Open'

One of the opposing factions (either the Sugawara, Tachibana or Abe clan) to the Fujiwara hired him in their order to put them in check. I'm leaning more towards the Sugawara clan.

This was probably the time when he probably met Angel from Abe clan, Uro from the Fujiwara, and especially Uraume. I'll explain how Uraume is related to the Sugawaras in a bit.

Sukuna served as part of Sugawara's troops or something like that. This can also be the point where he learned more about Japanese art and culture at the time.

One of the curses he must've fought was Yamata no Orochi.

Sukuna betrayed the Sugawaras and destroyed its army of sorcerers, with a few survivors left. Uraume decided to dedicate their whole life to him and followed him from then on.

He officially became a curse user and wrecked havoc in Japan, especially Heian-kyoo

Angel got enraged from his acts and with the permission of the Abe clan and the remnants of Sugawara clan, they jumped on Sukuna but lost.

Later on, he defeated the Fujiwara army led by Uro.

How is Uraume related to the Sugawaras?

There's this video from JP channel that was theorizing about Uraume when they first appeared in Shibuya arc a couple years ago that they used to be trapped in the prison realm before being freed so that Kenjaku can use it for Gojo Satoru and it was time for Sukuna's resurrection but this was obviously debunked, but there was something interesting that the creator brought up - the Tobiume.

Have you heard about The Legend of the Flying Plum (飛梅伝説)? So basically, when Sugawara no Michizane was demoted in ranking because of the Fujiwaras and was exiled, he wrote a poem expressing his sorrow of not seeing his precious plum tree in his residence in Heian-kyo (present-day Kyoto) ever again. Then from this, a romantic legend came about, where the plum tree was so fond of its master and cannot bear to be apart from him that it finally flew to Dazaifu, where he was exiled to, and that tree became known as tobi-ume (飛梅, 'the flying plum').

Michizane loves plum trees and plum blossoms, so it won't be strange if there were people in the clan named after plum blossoms or plum. In my case, I believe that Uraume is related to the Sugawara clan, but their status in the clan itself wasn't great. We can assume from their name in kanji, 裏梅.

裏 means the following:

opposite side; bottom; other side; side hidden from view; undersurface; reverse side

rear; back; behind

in the shadows; behind the scenes; offstage; behind (someone's) back

梅 means plum

Though they may have been born from a noble, prestigious clan, they remained in the shadows. My theory is that, for whatever reason it may be, Uraume's life wasn't as good as before Sukuna allowed them to serve him. They might have been an illegitimate child or they might have some deformity we don't know of, or whatever. Then they met Sukuna and the rest was history.

Do you not believe that Uraume is not related to the Sugawaras?

Let me show you a picture of the Sugawara clan crest.

They call this umebachi. A plum blossom crest.

And what's in Uraume's name? Ume (梅) - plum.

Another thing here that fulfill its name is the fact that Uraume is Sukuna's servant. Just like the tobiume, they follow their master from behind and cannot bear to be apart from him.

'Divine Flames, Open':

Here's something that caught my attention.

Kamino (カミノ) has the kanji 竈, that is originally pronounced as kamado. It means traditional Japanese wood or charcoal-fueled cook stove​. Fuuga (フーガ) has the kanji 開, originally pronounced as kai, meaning open. Now everything else is purely Japanese except these two.

Kamino and fuuga originated from Latin and Ancient Greek, and both exist in the Romance languages. How tf is he using these words? Around Heian era, only the Eastern Roman Empire is standing and the main language there was Greek....... but that's around present-day Turkey and its surroundings. The furthest they reached in trade was China...... oh wait, Heian era Japan still traded with China........

Seems like that theory of Chinese sorcerer isn't far-fetched, eh?

(But fr tho, do you think he met someone from Byzantine? There's no confirmation time travel is a thing so that's the only possible explanation)

Cannibalism:

Cannibalism, believe it or not, was practiced in China from Tang Dynasty and onwards. Remarkably, Heian era's last major Chinese contact was with Tang Dynasty. Records of cannibalism must have been brought from Tang Dynasty China along with Buddhism and other things by monks who were sent to China by the government.

It was said that human flesh of a young person was a great medical treatment for illnesses. So there would be young people, especially females, sacrificing some of their flesh for the sake of their parents or parent-in-laws recovery. Furthermore, Emperors, e.g. Wuzong of Tang, supposedly ordered provincial officials to send them "the hearts and livers of fifteen-year-old boys and girls" when they had become seriously ill, hoping in vain this medicine would cure him. Later on, private individuals sometimes followed their example, paying soldiers who kidnapped preteen children for their kitchen.

There was also something called war cannibalism, in which victors in a battle, war, or conflict would eat the dead enemy's flesh as "official punishments and private vengeance", as well as "celebrating victory over them."

Therefore, I propose that Sukuna started cannibalism as a way to treat an illness or disease - in private obviously since in Heian era, meat other than seafood was banned and meat that becomes available for special occassions or circumstances like falling sick are reserved for the upper class, plus if he ever was an apprentice monk, he would not have been allowed to consume meat. Since Heian era had outbreaks, such as smallpox, and also common diseases, anyone can get it, including him. So, not wanting to die, he resorted to this. But then it eventually became a habit that also extended to eating people he defeated in battles and young people and women for medicinal and nutritional purposes later on. This is the most likely the reason why in the first chapter, he was looking for children and women.

But if he had contracted some sort of illness or disease at some point in his youth and cannibalism (obviously) wasn't a cure for it, how would he have survived it and lived longer? Perhaps it might have to do with Tengen - who knows if she could have an extension technique of her Immortality CE, where she could have extended his lifespan. It could have had to do with Kenjaku; with their vast knowledge, it's possible he offered a solution to him. However, I'm leaning more towards Tengen helping him in this regard. It was also probably the reason why she ended up having four eyes and all because of this. But, of course, he couldn't escape death, so he agreed to Kenjaku's terms and became cursed objects to reincarnate later on.

My second proposition is that Sukuna was maltreated and the people didn't bother sharing meager amount of food available to him. We know that because of the Fujiwara family's political monopoly in the capital as well as the distribution of the land to nobility made it possible for them to abuse their power. For instance, these lords imposed taxes in an unreasonable amount to fund their lavish lifestyle, which obviously made life hard for the peasants and slaves since goods such as silk, grains and food became a common medium of exchange when the currency fell. So you can imagine how much they had to give up just to pay their taxes. This definitely made their food supply low. I can also imagine Sukuna was blamed for misfortunes and misery they have experienced because of his status as a taboo child. I don't think they would provide him food and so he would have to rely on dead people to survive.

And assuming that we're going off with this proposition instead of the other one, I think the reason why Sukuna was seeking women and children because in the past, it was more common for children and women to die. Children are naturally more vulnerable and women die easily, especially during childbirth. I'm certain that the most common corpses or bodies he must've found were those of children and women. But, of course, eventually he began to crave humans because he got so used to it that normal food didn't satisfy his hunger any longer - not that cannibalism fully resolved it, though.

The Fallen:

(I'm not gonna lie, majority of what I would say here are more assumptions based on Geto's and a bit of Yuji's acts)

Everyone has been comparing Sukuna and Gojo, seeing them as foils and parallels. I acknowledge that they are similar to each other and whatnot. But what if I tell you that he could've gone through an experience or two similar to Geto?

Think about it. Wouldn't you consider Geto as a 'Fallen One'? He was a righteous man, whose goal is to protect the weak as a strong person. But after the Toji incident, his moral convictions and purpose has been questioned by himself, and eventually, he fell from grace - being stripped of his status as a jujutsu sorcerer and thus becoming a curse user. He had the same values but they were reinterpreted and twisted.

If my theory on Sukuna being educated at a Buddhist Temple is true, then he must have believed in the salvation of those who are suffering (like Yuji to some extent), but was corrupted along the way. He had the same ideals, but it became reinterpreted and twisted. I think the reason why he hates Yuji because he is seeing all those he threw away to gain freedom and absolute strength in jujutsu in him. Both of them are inverses of each other, and it's not a surprise if Yuji is the representation of the old Sukuna.

I mean if you look at nobility back in Heian era, they kept indulging themselves in leisure and pleasure to the point that they neglected the economy. Literally the currency fell and all those bureaucratic and admin work fell mostly to lower classes working in each ministry. Basically back then, the higher you were in the hierarchy, the more pleasure you could attain and keep chasing for. How else did you think Japanese art, literature and culture came to be during this era? This was where he probably learned about hedonism or what influenced him to be one.

Not to mention, people who would've taken advantage of him for their pleasure, curiosity, greed and personal gains, power and control, and many more reasons. He could have been like Geto and Yuji, who exorcise curses and help the weak. There was a turning point where he decided to let go of everything and walk the path that he has been in for the last 1000 years.

I am not surprised if he decided to be who he is today as a revenge to the world, a response to the trauma and suffering he went through just like Geto.

If I am right about Sukuna going through a similar experience as Geto did, then this page below brings a whole new meaning to the Gojo vs Sukuna fight on December 24, 2018 - the death anniversary of Geto:

JJK CH 223

But despite all of these, there's one thing we can agree on - that is, he became the monster the world sees him as in the end.

That will be it. I hope y'all like it to some extent. Until then.

References:

Heian Era, Buddhism, 御厨子 -related Topics:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sh%C5%8Den/

https://ja.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E5%BE%A1%E5%8E%A8

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buddhist_temples_in_Japan

https://www.britannica.com/place/Japan/The-Heian-period-794-1185

https://www.colorado.edu/ptea-curriculum/imaging-japanese-history-1

https://ja.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E5%8E%A8%E5%AD%90

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sugawara_no_Michizane

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heian_period

https://www.colorado.edu/ptea-curriculum/imaging-japanese-history-1

Homosexuality in Medieval Japan:

https://www.tofugu.com/japan/gay-samurai/

https://ida.mtholyoke.edu/items/19c86409-c129-46a1-927b-11cfe0ffb1c3

Cannibalism & Sacred S*x-related Topics:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_cannibalism

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Medical_cannibalism&diffonly=true

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cannibalism_in_Asia

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sexual_ritual

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sacred_prostitution

Ancient Greek, Latin, & Roman Empire Topics:

https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/fuga

https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/caminus

https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/camino

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sino-Roman_relations

YouTube Videos I Referenced:

https://youtu.be/5n24Ulc8u84?si=Nngbg4xEqyNu82x8

https://youtu.be/WhBN29CIuAQ?si=5bNryoT-GzleIGq9

Reddit Posts I Referenced:

https://www.reddit.com/r/Jujutsushi/comments/1bngk9x/i_solved_one_of_the_great_mysteries_of_the_heian/

https://www.reddit.com/r/AskHistorians/comments/ztay5e/what_foreign_countries_did_japan_have_trade/

https://www.reddit.com/r/AskHistorians/comments/zs4k9p/what_was_life_like_for_the_average_people_heian/

Twitter Posts I Referenced:

https://x.com/eldammonite/status/1571157320570380295

https://x.com/lightningclare/status/1807467771913269374