#( .inbox request : how fate so cruel )

[stormhearty]

Pairings: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Triggers: obsessive/toxic Azriel, indications of sex (but not explicit), blood, familial and character death, self-hurt

Summary: Azriel never thought he would become obsessed with anything. He was the stoic and cold Spymaster of Night Court. For centuries he never had anyone grow close to him — not until you, his mate. However, something lurks underneath those bright-colored eyes, and for Azriel… he couldn’t be anywhere else but near you.

Note: From this request! Thank you for sending this! It took a bit to understand the song and its musicality, but I was able to hopefully reach something that would tug the heartstrings but also have the same feeling as the song — Azriel falling for the reader, being addicted, and… Well, continue to find out. Also, I wanted it to be a Dark!Azriel, but I’m not sure if he is as dark as people may interpret, do let me know what you think of this! I wanted this to mimic “Notions of Devotion” but with a darker twist, basing it off the prequel chapters of “Secret Lady”. And also, an AU of my Seer!Reader! 👀👀👀

Temptation is such a fickle thing.

Before you even stepped through those grand doors, Azriel smelt you — that familiar aroma of jasmine and sage wafted through those doors. He was already addicted before even seeing you. He felt his shadows vibrate and shuffle underneath his feet, too excited to bask in your presence and your light.

And when you stepped through those doors, it was as if the Gods and Mother above had graced you in his presence.

You were beautiful.

You were a literal ray of sunshine as if the clouds above parted and you descended from the Havens. He watched as your skirts fluttered beneath you, the white gown — embedded with sparkles of silver and stars — made you ethereal, a Goddess walking in mortal lands.

He had heard of you through his shadows — a Seer within Prythian’s borders.

The first known Seer in millennials.

The Seer that the High Lord of Day Court had kept secret for centuries — the rumored daughter figure of High Lord Helion.

The whispers of your power were not foreign in Night Court. You had used your powers of foresight to bring forth change throughout all of Prythian — you had used your powers for the greater good — all the while keeping your identity a secret.

Azriel had only heard of your name — (Y/N). The whispers of your name and beauty from Day Court spread like wildfire throughout Prythian and many had wanted to meet you, even glance your way to see your beauty.

Even Azriel had grown curious.

When he was sent as an emissary along with Mor to Day Court soil, he hoped and wished to see you pass by. Your aroma of jasmine and sage echoed throughout all the halls he walked through, his shadows scurrying around hoping to find the source of such captivating fragrance.

But he never got even a glance at you.

He had heard the light shuffling of feet, every time he passed a hallway or a room, his head perking up at the scent of you. Every time he felt your presence, heard your feet, smelled you, he scent his shadows on a hunt — to find you, to bring you to him.

He was already addicted — all he wanted was you near him, to bask in your scent and presence.

But every time his shadows came back, it was for naught. He watched them whisper that they couldn’t find you — that as if by magic, you would vanish in midair. Azriel didn’t know if you were avoiding him… but you had no reason to — there was no connection between the two of you, no reason for you to avoid him.

Azriel had grown frustrated at that thought — you were a temptation. You filled his thoughts every waking moment for days on end while he was at Day Court; and even when he arrived back to Night Court, your lingering scent stained his clothes to the point he almost burned them to rid the thought of you. But in the end, he couldn’t.

It would erase everything he had felt for you — of that he yearned for you. That his whole time in Day Court was nothing but a fleeting hallucination, that you would become nothing but a lucid dream.

And it felt like you were nothing but that.

He would lie at night, dreaming of you — you haunted him, awake and asleep. Azriel could reach out and grasp you, hold you close to him — he could practically taste you, but every time he thought he would be able to see your face in his dreams, he would awake — as if the Gods tried to stop him from knowing you completely.

And so when he heard that you would be coming to Night Court as an emissary from Day, his heart picked up a beat at the thought of you again.

Azriel felt the tap against his mental shields that shook him from his thoughts. Hazel hues glanced at his High Lord, seeing that playful smirk that tugged on his lips and he heard the snicker from the General.

“Oh shut it, the both of you…” he hissed in his head at them before he straightened his composure, focusing back on you and the two guards that flanked your side from Day Court.

You were more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. His thoughts of how you could have looked never matched the beauty that you radiated as you walked towards the dias where the Inner Court had sat.

You elegantly bowed in front of his High Lord and Lady, and he just watched you — mesmerized by every little action that you did. He watched you straighten up, fixing your locks behind your ears and over your shoulders; he watched those delicate hands fiddle with each other in nervousness that you couldn’t help but emit.

It was so adorable and endearing on how you looked.

He was absolutely in love with you already.

And when you looked towards his way, your eyes staring into his own hazel — he felt his chest burst with color. His usual world of black and white beamed with color he never thought he would see. His chest warmed, ached, and called out to you — he felt that golden string that he only heard of from his brothers — one that tied your soul to his.

Azriel stumbled backward, clutching his leathers at his chest, his breath taken away from him. He heard your gasp — it was such a lovely sound — as he watched from the corner of his eyes, you stumbling as well, the guards holding your shoulders to stead you, all the while his High Lord and Cassian rushed to his side.

“What happened, Azriel?” his High Lord asked him — commanded him.

Despite the command rushing through his body, his mind rejected it, all his focus on you and those hands on your shoulders. The sight of other hands besides his own, made Azriel feel territorial. He felt the bond in his chest vibrate in anger, and his shadows swirl around him, waiting for their master to let them loose to attack. He let them loose, watching those tendrils of darkness whisk forward to wrap around your pure form, watching them slither up your legs, up your arms, pushing those hands away from you.

The sight of his shadows, his darkness, curling around your form made the bond sing, and a dark satisfaction curled around his heart.

All he wanted to do was cover you in his darkness, making you all his.

He watched as you looked at those shadows before your gaze shifted to his own once again. His body thrummed with happiness and satisfaction as you looked at him with wide eyes, and the only thing that slipped from his lips was:

“Mate."

“How do I look, Azriel?”

He watched those eyes beam up at him, cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of pink, and his ears perking up at the laugh that escaped your lips as he placed the flower crown on top of your head.

His heart rattled in his chest at the way you looked up at him. How your eyes sparkled with happiness and how your laugh was so pure and unabashed. You glowed with so much pureness and happiness, that all he hoped was that he could be the only person that could make you feel like this.

“Stunning,” he affirmed, his words blowing with the wind, “I picked them in particular because I knew they would suit you well…”

Hazel hues watched your features absorb his words for a moment, eyes shifting before looking back up at his own — eyes wide and bright staring up at him — unguarded and so vulnerable. He felt the bond sing… but a darker voice resonated behind that elation — how beautiful would it be to have everything about you just be his. To watch your pureness, your light, your beauty be drowned in his shadows… in his darkness.

“Yes…” he whispered, leaning into your features, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, sliding slightly so that the tips of his fingers grazed the base of your neck, his other hand coming up to gently wrap around your waist, tugging you closer, “Look at me, just like that…”

Azriel brought your face closer to his own, your scent overwhelming his senses — how addicted he was to your smell and he couldn’t help but wonder if you tasted delicious as well as you smelled. Hazel hues watched that baby pink shade turn darker on your cheeks and his heart swelled with pride.

“Keep looking at me just like you are, (Y/N). Is it too selfish for me to ask you, to just look at me… and only me?”

He leaned down and pressed his lips against your own and he was right — you tasted divine. His lips moved against yours, and he felt your hesitance in the kiss, your hands hovering over his chest, a feeble attempt to push him away. He gently bit your lower lip, feeling you gasp against his lips and he delved in, tasting your mouth to his heart’s content. Azriel brought you closer to him, feeling you slump against his form before gently bringing you down to the soft grass underneath both of your feet.

Azriel pulled away from the kiss, his large form hovering over your own. He watched as your chest heaved, those lips parted in a gentle ‘o’ shape, dark red from his kiss. You looked ravished, not so pure anymore — and it made his body pulse. He felt his shadows, swirl around you, clinging onto the strands of hair that spread around your pretty head, onto your shoulders and upper arms; he watched them move over your dress, tugging onto fabric until they loosened over your body.

His eyes darkened, watching inches of skin be revealed to him and you having no attempt to cover up or hide from him. A coo escaped his lips as he leaned down once again, lips attaching themselves to the crook of your neck as he felt your hands slide up his arms to cradle his head against you.

“Why would I look at anyone else, Azriel?” you mused, your voice out of breath, “When you are my mate? When the first time I saw you, you already filled my world with so much hope and light…”

Azriel felt himself growl, his kisses becoming more and more desperate against your skin. Teeth scraped against flesh and hands grasped at anything that was you. Your gasps and moans filled his ears, and he felt the darkness in his heart grow more and more.

He wanted to cover you in him, cover you in that darkness that grew inside of him. He wanted your light that radiated from your soul to darken, to taint it with his essence.

It was funny indeed — how you saw him with such pureness in your eyes, in your heart, in your soul. When in all reality, he was the opposite of that.

He was dark — there was nothing pure about him.

Not when it came to you.

Drip… Drip… drip

Azriel ran his blood-stained hands through dark tussled locks, as he stepped into the foyer of the River House. Dark red blood stained the marble floors of the home, dripping down from his leathers, the undeniable squish from underneath his boots.

He tilted his head up, staring at the night-kissed ceiling — a painting done by his High Lady’s hands.

I’m tired.

He pondered as he continued to walk the quiet halls of the house, all too quiet except for the thump of his blood-covered boots. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, hazel hues stared at his hands — one maimed and disfigured, one that was covered in blood. Azriel felt like it seeped into his very skin, touching his very soul. A frown tugged onto his features as he wiped it on the marble railing of the stairs, watching it streak — tainting the white color with red.

Azriel had just come back from his interrogation from Hewn City, his High Lord requested it. They needed information on the looming threat of the Deathless God.

You had been the one to warn about the threat — your powers taking over you to give the prophesized vision of the God in the Lake. All of Prythian took heed of such words that slipped your lips.

He had become busy, more busy as of late, to the point he rarely saw you.

He missed you. Missed the way you looked up at him with such adoration, with such love; missed the way you would feel underneath him; missed the sound of your voice — your gasps, your moans, your laugh.

Azriel blinked hazily when a shadow ran from underneath his grasp and up the stairs. Hazel hues watched that shadow, before noticing a figure on top of the stairs.

He blinked again, adjusting his eyes to the light before seeing that it was you.

However… it wasn’t you.

Those hues weren’t the ones that he loved. They were light, almost white… Unfamiliar… yet familiar at the same time. You looked at him, but one without the familiar feeling of love; you stared at him, as if staring into his soul.

Your powers had taken over you again.

Azriel walked up those steps, towards you, and once he was in front of you he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, the blood that stained his leathers seeping into your pure white clothes. That dark feeling inside him grew once again, seeing such imagery… the pure you, being tainted by him.

He looked into your power-filled eyes, watching them unblinking up at him. A sigh escaped his lips as he lifted you into his arms, your body light as a feather and he continued his path to your shared bedroom.

Stepping beyond the threshold of those grand doors, he kicked them shut and laid you down on the massive bed, pressing himself closer to your form. He did not care that the blood continued to taint your clear skin, he wanted more.

He stained your thighs, your arms, your chest with red, his shadows slipping off your, now, red slip. He brought your hand to his face, pressing blood-stained lips onto the palm of your hand before his fingers drew an eye on the back of your hand — a sign he always drew when you were like this.

An omen, hoping to call the real you back to him.

A giggle escaped your lips, as you took your hand back, head tilting at the image that he drew. A knowing smile tugged on your lips as you leaned up toward Azriel.

“You seem nervous, Shadowsinger…”

Azriel fought back a shudder — it was your voice, but also not your own. Your powers had taken you — mind and body. Your power echoing through your voice, one so ancient and one so powerful, it resonated in the air, all-powerful and all-knowing.

This wasn’t the first time that your power had overtaken you.

The first time was your divine prediction of the Deathless God’s return.

It was a day Azriel could never forget.

He had thought he had lost you to your power, thought that you would never return to being you again. He watched as you writhed in pain, sweat dripping down your forehead and onto the sheets. You were sick with a fever days before that moment, and Azriel had thought you were having a fever dream. But when your eyes opened, and unfamiliar white hues stared at him — he knew it wasn’t a fever dream.

The Bird of Ash and Fire, flying over the dark lake. Power resonating… The Cauldron calling to its like. He will rise and plunder Prythian to destruction. Fire and shadow submerge all of the light.

Fingers touched his face, bringing him out of his thoughts as hazel eyes focused back down at you, that knowing smile still on your features.

“There is another prophecy… you have yet to hear, my dearest Shadowsinger… One that concerns your dearest sons that your wife has borne.”

Brows scrunched on his features, as he pulled away from your body — the first time he has done that. Hazel eyes locked onto omnipotent ones, “What are you talking about, seer…”

Azriel never called your name when you were in this state… he never thought this was you.

This was the all-seeing Seer of Prythian.

This was not his mate, not his wife.

That knowing smile tugged wider as you slid your fingers over his eye, covering it with your palm — as if to blind him from the truth that you were to spill.

“Our sons will, in the near future, rip their own mother to shreds…”

Hazel eyes widened, continuing to stare down at you. A laugh escaped your chest, echoing into the still room.

“Are you afraid, Shadowsinger? Are you afraid that your mate will despise you? You have a choice now…

“Will you follow fate’s string, abide by the course of nature set by the Cauldron and the Mother above, and allow your mate to be brutally die at the hands of your son?”

He watched you lean up, pressing your palm further into his eye before he reached up and grabbed your wrist and pull it away, fingers digging into tender flesh to the point it would bruise.

“Or… will you wish upon the powers of your mate, the Seer… to kill your sons?

“Will you be willing… to kill your kin, one that you had wanted so much to the point you pushed your mate’s body to the brink of breaking. Or do you dare change your mate’s destiny of death?”

Azriel watched as tears cascade down your cheeks, your hues slowly hinting back to their normal color — that your powers were slowly leaving your body alone.

“Even if you are at the end of your wife’s wrath for it?”

The preeminent voice left you and the whimper of his name slipped your lips.

A coo escaped his lips, leaning back down to press his lips against your own, hushing you from your cries. When he pulled away, he watched as your eyes return to your own, staring up at him — tears continued to streak down your cheeks.

“—-Don’t… Azriel… Please —- Not our sons…” you muttered, begged your husband not to listen to your vision.

He pressed another kiss, taking your breath away from you. He felt you relax underneath him, your hands slipping from his hold and back onto the bed, the tension in your body slowly slipping away.

“—- Father…”

He glanced up from the kiss, seeing his two sons — Rhysar and Rian at the threshold of the bedroom. Azriel pulled away from the kiss, glancing back down at you, the even breathing indicating that you had fallen asleep — it happened every time your powers left your body.

Your words echoed in his ears — he had to choose.

The family that he grew with you… his pride and joy — his sons.

Or the love of his life… his mate — you.

He had heard the whispers from his sons, his eldest especially — the ungratefulness that spewed from their lips. That their mother, despite being a Seer, was from unknown origins and that their father was a bastard Illyrian from the depths of war camps.

He did not care about the hatred that spewed from their lips — but to utter ungratefulness about their mother who bore them... Who almost died to bring them into the world.

Azriel would not tolerate that.

Not when you were everything to him.

With one last glance at your sleeping form, he slowly moved away from you, slipping out of the bed as eyes stared at his sons — hazel hues dulling from his decision.

He will choose you all the time.

Even if it meant killing his own flesh and blood.

Azriel stalked towards them, his large figure overpowering the two of them. His shadows whisked out from his own, darting towards them as they turned and attempted to run — their screams filling the hallways.

A frown tugged on his lips, as he closed the door behind him, attempting to silence the screams from reaching your ears. He stayed still, guarding those doors to the bedroom, allowing his shadows to zip through the halls — to bring his sons back.

The scrambling of feet echoed through the hallways, their terrified screams echoing all around him. He knew that the rest of his family would hear it, and would attempt to stop him from taking his sons’ life — he couldn’t let that happen.

Not when your own life was hanging by a string.

His shadows dispersed, blanketing the River House, locking each door, and preventing anyone from leaving their rooms.

He could hear it — the frantic yells of his family, the confusion in their voices at what was happening.

"Azriel what is going on? Why are your shadows everywhere? "

The Spymaster took no need of his High Lord's questions as he silently waited for his shadows to drag his sons back. He placed a dark wall up in his mind, casting aside Rhysand’s questions and even his High Lady’s frantic pleas.

He didn’t need distractions — not when he had a goal in mind.

The screams and cries of his sons grew louder as he watched the spindle of shadows drag them back by their ankles. Hazel eyes looked down his nose at them, watching them shake and plead up to him — his very image staring back up at him.

Azriel never realized on how much his sons took after him, not a tall tell sign of his wife’s features in either of them. And it disgusted him. How can something like that come out of something so pure like you? He couldn’t understand. The only thing that was remotely you was in your second son, Rian — his eyes sparkled the same hue as yours.

Truth-Teller materialized in his hand, and he raised it to the dim lighting, watching it shine, eyes staring at the glint of his dagger before back down at his oldest son.

Without a second thought, the dagger stroked down.

The screams never ended, and Azriel’s skin dripped with blood once again.

“She hasn’t eaten or slept in days — anything she happens to swallow, she always throws it back up. Her condition is deteriorating, Azriel…

“What have you done?”

The Spymaster stepped into the vast room, the quiet sobs echoing through reverend walls. Hazel eyes trained on you as you pressed yourself against the stone casket of Rhysar, mourning over his death. His step echoed as he made his way towards you and he heard your sobbing stop as you looked over your shoulder, and up at him.

His heart tugged a tiny bit, your hallowed cheeks, dark circles underneath your eyes. You were exhausted, the death of your eldest son taking a toll on your mind and health.

Azriel attempted to tug at the golden string that connected the two of you; however, he only felt the hallow feeling on the other side, your heart slowly encompassed by shadow and darkness.

His mind knew he shouldn’t — but he felt pride seeing his mate look so haggard. His sick mind knew that no matter what, you would always look back for him — that your fates have always been intertwined.

“Say something, Azriel…”

Your voice was small, barely reaching his ears.

“Whether it be an excuse or a reason… Just say something, please.”

He watched as tears streamed down your cheeks, onto the dark colors of your mourning gown. It had been weeks since Rhysar’s death and yet you still continue to wear it — it had been gorgeous on you, Azriel’s dark voice revering in his head that you were beautiful in black, and not your usual white.

“Tell me you did it for your love for me… go on. Tell me… anything, on your reasoning for killing our son. Despite my pleading for you to not listen to the vision I spewed.”

Azriel remained quiet and another sob wracked through your body, a thinned hand coming up to press against pale lips, an attempt to hold back throwing everything up from your stomach.

Dull hues stared up at him, “The fates and Mother will continue to scorn me… Despite all of this, I can’t help but still love you. I have loved you for so long… that mating bond was just another thing that had pushed me to love you…”

He watched you move from the casket, dragging your body on marbled floors to where he stood. Azriel felt your hands grab his leathers, grasping onto anything on him as you continued to sob.

“Please… Say anything. At least… it would make me hate you even less…”

Azriel sighed softly as he leaned down and brought you into his arms, carrying you bridal-style as he pressed his lips against your own — once again, silencing your cries.

He felt you shake in his grasp, your hands pushing at his shoulders, tugging on his hair — attempting to pull away from the kiss. He let you, and he heard you gasp, taking in air as you looked at him, brows furrowed and your lower lip wobbling.

“Why!!” you yelled, your voice hoarse and cracking. You continued to push at his shoulders, clawing at his leathers. Azriel held you tight against him, afraid that if you moved too much in his arms, you’d fall and damage yourself.

“Why don’t you say anything?!! Why did you have to kill our son?! Because of the vision? Because of my powers?! Why!!?”

You gasped, pressing a hand against your throat — a tall tell sign of a panic attack seeping into your bones. Azriel brought your face close to his again, pressing his lips onto yours once more, an attempt to bypass the attack that was waiting to happen.

He felt your body calm against his and he sighed in relief into the kiss, pressing you closer to him. Azriel moved towards the wall, pressing you against it. His lips moved from yours to your neck, teeth and tongue scraping against the skin, and felt you relaxed in his hold.

A distraction for you and desire from him fueled his actions. His shadows felt their master’s desire for you and helped, pinning your form against the stone walls as he knelt, hands pushing and tugging layers of clothes.

He whispered devotion against your skin before devouring you in his darkness, in his love. A sinful moan escaped your lips, pressing yourself further into the wall, the silvers of shadow intertwining around your limbs as Azriel devoured you.

You glanced down at familiar scarred fingers as your mate traced the bruise that was on your wrist, one that was not of his making — but one that was made by you.

Your gaze was not focused as your mind was elsewhere — your memories flashing behind your eyes of what had occurred the past few days.

The birth of your High Lord and Lady’s first child — the heir to Night Court was brought to this world. You had loved that child, much like he was your own… you had pampered and spoiled the child rotten, a way to distract your racing mind.

Your power was starting to grow out of control.

There were moments where you were in control of your body and mind, and the next thing you knew, you were watching your powers take over you — as if your soul was pushed out of your body and all you could do was watch in horror of the visions that you decreed.

What had pushed you to the brink of hurting yourself was the day you noticed how Rian’s eyes glowed a familiar eerie color — one similar to yours when your powers overtake you.

Rian had inherited your powers.

And the first vision he ever saw had rattled you to your knees.

You watched as the power took over your child, those eyes glow and all you wanted was to pray to the Gods, to the Mother above to spare your child from such fates of being a Seer. Those all-seeing eyes stared at you as he pointed his small finger at you.

“Skin and bones burned and swallowed in darkness. To the father that has betrayed his kin, killed his own flesh. To the mother who continues to sit in darkness. There will be violence, there will be death. The Seer’s path will always walk in bloodshed. To ensure your kin will live for millennials, only your death will stop the madness.”

You felt fingers caress your cheek, and you blinked your dull eyes staring up at your mate who looked at you with so much softness that it tugged at your heart.

Oh, your mate — your wonderful and beautiful mate.

How much you loved him with your entire being, the entirety of your soul.

You had no idea where it had gone astray — was it the moment he heard of you? The moment your name reached his shadows and ears? Or was it when the bond snapped? That your souls were tired indefinitely that made your husband lose his mind to the darkness in his heart?

“(Y/N)…” he muttered.

Your name sounded beautiful in his voice — his baritone tone that rumbled in his chest, and echoed in your own. You fought back a shudder as you continued to stare up at him, watching those hazel eyes swim with something you were unable to identify.

“I told you to tell me when things get to hard for you. To tug on our bond, to call my shadows, to whisper my name. You shouldn’t have to hurt yourself like this when your powers overwhelm you… I could help…”

The warmth of his hand that cradled your cheek was so powerful that you couldn’t help but lean into it, your hand clutching your mate’s wrist as you snuggled into that warmth you loved.

A chuckle rattled out of Azriel and you felt him pull you closer to him, pressing his lips against your own.

You found that Azriel loved to kiss you, to make love to you at his convenience — to distract you, to distract him, from the world around both of you.

Your body fell back against soft velvet of your bedsheets, your husband’s body hovering over yours as he grounded himself onto you. His hands pressed against your sides, tugging on clothes and flesh to his desire.

“Instead of asking you, my love… I should make it an order — to stop you from hurting yourself.”

His lips slid from your own, sliding down your neck and shoulder, as fingers tugged your dress from your chest. His lips wrapped around the sensitive bud, as those darkened hazel eyes looked up at you.

“If you have no intention of doing what I ask of you —”

“I am doing exactly a you ask, my love.”

You felt him pause in his love making, pulling away from your breast to look at you. You felt your powers slowly take over again, and this time around, you had no intention of stopping them.

“I know how much you love me, to the point you are willing to die, Azriel. I know that any scars on my body hurt you more… than the ones on your own.”

You brought up his marred hand — one that was always covered with blood and scars — to your lips and pressed a kiss on them, one so gentle and soft that he barely would feel it.

“Let us make a wager, Shadowsinger…”

Your hands dropped his and slid up his broad arms, over his shoulders and around his neck, delicate fingers grasping onto black locks tugging enough to tilt his head back from your position. A pleased hum escaped your lips as you leaned up and bit down on the junction of his neck and shoulders.

“Anyone you will love after me… will be punished for it. They will lose their lives, their families, and themselves to the darkness that you have in your heart. And without anyone to love… you will lose your mind and die of madness.”

A cough raked your body, blood spilling out of your lips. You smiled down at your mate — your powers finally at its breaking point. You used the last of your powers, forced your powers to fully take over you, to call upon one last vision. You felt your vision start to blur, the vision of your husband the last thing you’d ever see in this world.

“You have caused this curse upon yourself, Shadowsinger… You should have simply told me you loved me… from the very beginning.”

[tacobacoyeet]

George and y/nn broke up after the war because they both wanted to concentrate on their careers. The two see each other again years later at Ginny's and Harry's wedding because y/n and Ginny were very good friends even though she was in Fred and George's year. She was always like a big sister to ginny. George and y/n have never stopped loving each other and getting closer to each other again at the wedding. Then they disappear into the burrow and have hot sex. George is Dom as always. When the two come back Fred and Ginny already look suspiciously at them, because both of them always had to hear from the two how much they miss each other.

as fate promised | george weasley x reader

a/n: happy birthday to the most impactful and long-lasting book crush i've ever had. george weasley will always be the character i could never live without. thank you for all 5 requests i have in my inbox for him, but specifically this one. i took some creative liberties, but i hope i've at least given you a hint of what you were hoping for.

warnings: SMUT 18+, alcohol mention, war mention, pregnancy mention, au in which fred is alive (it's his birthday and i'm not cruel) and harry and ginny have a happy wedding, this isn't exactly accurate but... it's fun, i actually wrote a happy ending for once! yay, hastily proofread

The sunlight in Ginny’s bedroom streamed in slow, golden ribbons, casting a soft spell over everything it touched—the lace veil folded carefully on the dresser, the half-drunk flute of champagne on the windowsill, and the back of your neck, where a loose strand of hair clung to the curve of your skin. You laughed, breathless and fond, as Ginny spun in front of the mirror, the satin of her gown whispering against the wooden floor.

"You look like a painting," you murmured, reaching forward to adjust the fall of Ginny’s hairpins, fingers trembling ever so slightly. "Something out of a dream."

Ginny rolled her eyes with affection. "Don't go getting sentimental on me now. I need you composed, remember? One of us has to be."

But you weren’t listening anymore. Not really. Because the second you lifted your gaze out the crooked-pane window, your heart snagged on the sight of him.

George.

He was standing in the garden in a navy-blue jacket that clung to his shoulders like memory. His hair—still a riot of that unmistakable Weasley red—glowed brighter than the sun itself. He was laughing at something Charlie had said, tossing his head back. He laughed the way he always had, but it sat different now. Like something had broken beneath it. Something quieter rested behind his eyes.

Time.

It sat on both of you.

And just like that, the years folded in on themselves. Hogwarts corridors. Sneaked kisses behind greenhouses. Midnight swims in the Black Lake. Fred yelling, "Oi, get a room, you two!" as you and George tumbled into the Gryffindor common room hand-in-hand. Ginny’s endless teasing, how she would groan every time George sent an enchanted origami bird fluttering into your textbooks.

You remembered the day they fled Hogwarts. He had told you beforehand, of course. It was a painful night. Tears streaming, whispered "I love you"s, promises about the future you two had planned. You watched, soon after, the way the fireworks bloomed across the Great Hall ceiling, the way your chest cracked open watching him disappear through the clouds of rebellion. You had known. Even then. That something had ended.

You stayed. Finished what you started. Buried your heart in textbooks and late-night patrols, every breath a battle not to sneak out of Hogwarts and into the joke shop to throw your arms around him.

You kept your chin up. You trained. You earned your Auror badge like it meant something. Like it could stitch up the gaping space he left behind.

The letters faded. The visits stopped. And in their place—emptiness. Weeks turned to months turned to years, and you both just… let it happen.

It hadn’t been an ugly ending, just an agonizing one. A slow unraveling. A missed goodbye. No fights. Just silence where laughter used to live. Tear-streaked cheeks and clutched hands and whispered promises you were both too proud—and too young—to keep.

You’d never stopped loving him. That was the worst part. The love had never left. It had only settled somewhere quieter. Heavier. Waiting.

You blinked, and he was still there.

He hadn’t seen you yet.

But he would.

And when he did, the whole bloody world would stop. It may as well have, already.

You didn’t know if it was hope or fear blooming in your chest—only that it was alive again.

-----

The wedding was soft and golden, like everything that had come before it.

The garden behind the Burrow had been transformed—lanterns floating overhead like tiny stars, wildflowers blooming in mason jars along each aisle, chairs arranged in a perfect, charmingly crooked arc. It smelled like rosemary and lemon tart, like old wood and fresh beginnings. Someone had enchanted the breeze to stay warm and gentle. You could almost pretend it was magic itself.

You stood with the other bridesmaids, bouquet tight in your hands, your dress the same shade of blush Ginny had insisted on months ago with a wicked grin—“George will faint when he sees you in this.”

You hadn’t thought she meant it literally. But now, you weren’t so sure.

Because he was there.

Groomsman. Just across the aisle. Tense, freckled hands clasped in front of him, boutonnière slightly crooked, smile tight at the corners like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. And then—

His eyes found yours.

Everything else faded.

He stared at you like it hurt. Like it healed. Like you were everything he'd buried and didn’t dare dig up again until this moment. He looked at you like you were the only real thing in a world built from dreams. Like he'd spent every day since the war pretending not to search for you in every crowded street, every silent room.

And there was something else too—grief tucked behind the edges of his smile. As if the war hadn’t just taken his ear and a piece of Hogwarts, but pieces of all of you. The laughter was still there, but it sat deeper in his chest now. Older. Earned.

And you? You stared right back.

Because how could you not?

That was your George. Still him. Still yours. Except not. Not really.

Fred elbowed him sharply, grinning like a devil, and George blinked—smiling back with something startled and sheepish and boyish in a way that gutted you.

You looked away before you could drown in it.

But you would’ve given anything to drown in it.

You had imagined weddings before. Countless nights holed up in the Gryffindor Dormitory with Ginny, Hermione, and all of the other girls you grew up with. Some nights it was their dream wedding. Other nights it was yours. A beautiful venue, a devilishly handsome court-jester of a ginger across from you at the altar. A sting in your eyes, a warmth in your chest, the vows you had planned out hidden deep in your diary.

It wasn’t just a conversation with your friends. It was late nights and early mornings, the Gryffindor common room fire crackling beneath whispers between you and your lover. Your head would rest on his chest, the two of you staring off as you planned every little detail of your life together. The color scheme of your wedding, the names of your future children, who would be on dinner-duty each night. You were convinced it was fated. Prophesied. Y/N Y/L/N and George Weasley were written in the stars.

Today, though, this ceremony blurred around the edges, dipped in candlelight and vows and Molly’s occasional sniffles. You caught flashes—Harry trying not to cry, Ginny radiant like sunlight incarnate, Arthur clutching a handkerchief in both fists. There were enchanted doves, there was a harpist whose strings shivered like glass, there was magic in the air and it wasn’t all from the spells.

But mostly, there was him.

Watching you.

And you, pretending you didn’t keep looking back.

Your pulse raced, hot beneath your collarbone. Your knees trembled inside your heels.

Because you knew it, deep in your bones. The moment the last toast was made, the first chance he got—he was going to come to you.

And when he did, you wouldn’t run.

You weren’t seventeen anymore.

You were still his. Even if you hadn’t said it out loud in years.

---

The sun had dipped behind the trees by the time the reception hit its stride. Candles floated over tables dressed in mismatched linen. Music played low and rich beneath the hum of voices and laughter. Plates clinked. Wine glasses glittered in the fairy light. You danced with Neville, with Luna, with Bill, all with a smile stretched too tight across your face.

Because you could feel him watching.

Every time you turned, George was somewhere near—laughing with Charlie, talking with Lee Jordan, charming someone’s grandmother,  standing in his brother’s personal bubble as he whispered something that made Fred choke on his drink from laughter.

But he hadn’t come to you.

Not yet.

Your skin buzzed like a live wire. Every inch of you attuned to the way he moved, the weight of his gaze when he thought you wouldn’t notice. You were burning with it. Trembling with it.

And then you were gone.

You slipped away from the crowd, quiet as a spell. Past the string lights, past the garden’s edge, past the kitchen window glowing warm with laughter. You found your way to the porch—the one that creaked beneath your heels and smelled like pine and old summers.

You kicked off your shoes. Wrapped your arms around yourself. Breathed.

The door behind you creaked open, then closed.

You didn’t need to turn.

"You always did disappear at parties," he said softly.

You smiled to yourself. "You always did find me."

His footsteps creaked across the boards.

Then he was beside you.

Close enough to touch, but not touching. Close enough that you could feel the warmth of him through the air. You stared ahead, out at the setting sun. Fireflies began to buzz over the garden, and someone—Hermione, probably—had enchanted the pond to shimmer gold.

"Hi," he said.

You looked at him. Slowly. Let your eyes take him in, like your memory had starved for him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He breathed out a laugh. "Didn’t know if you’d actually come."

"I wouldn’t have missed it for the world."

He tilted his head. "Fred was bouncing off the walls. Told me if I didn’t clean up and act right, I’d regret it when you walked through the door."

You smiled. "He’s usually right."

George went quiet. His gaze dropped to the floorboards, then rose again to meet yours.

"You look beautiful," he said, voice low. "I mean—you always do. But tonight…"

Your chest ached. "Don’t."

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t say things like that unless you mean them."

He stepped forward. Close. Close enough that your arms brushed.

"I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said to you," he murmured.

You couldn’t breathe.

He was looking at you like he did in the greenhouses. In the library when you snuck him in after curfew. On the Astronomy Tower with your tie in his hand and the stars in your eyes.

Like he was falling through every single galaxy to end up in your arms once again.

"I missed you," he said.

You didn’t speak. Just stood there, blinking hard, willing the tears to stay where they were.

George shifted closer, voice unsteady. "I didn’t know how to let go of you. I thought I could pour everything into the shop, into laughing until it didn’t hurt anymore—but you never really left."

Your breath caught. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I kept moving forward, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. But it did. It does."

His eyes searched yours, but he didn’t flinch. "Then let’s stop pretending."

You opened your mouth to respond—but he kissed you instead.

It was not polite. Not soft.

It was filth and fire, all teeth and tongue, years of frustration and longing colliding behind lips that had forgotten how to be gentle. Your back hit the porch rail with a thud as he gripped your hips and ground against you like he could make up for everything in one breathless second.

You moaned into his mouth, clawed at his jacket, dragging him impossibly closer. His hands were under your dress, fists bunching the fabric as he palmed your ass with a growl.

"Come with me," he rasped, biting your lower lip just hard enough to make you gasp. "Now."

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

He took your hand and hauled you upstairs like a man starved, the tittering portraits lining the walls hardly audible as your hearts pounded in your ears, barely making it through his bedroom door before he shoved it closed with his foot and pinned you against it. His mouth was on your neck, hot and open and frantic.

"Missed this," he groaned. "Missed you."

You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, yanked his shirt open, buttons pinging off the walls. He didn’t even flinch. Just lifted you, carried you across the room, and dropped you onto the bed like he owned you.

And maybe he did.

You pulled him down with you, mouth on his, legs wrapped tight around his hips. He kissed you like he was trying to brand himself into your bones.

Your dress hit the floor. His trousers followed.

He didn’t wait.

He dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and dragged your panties off with his teeth, eyes locked on yours. Then he was on you, tongue lapping between your legs, filthy and unrelenting.

You cried out, hips bucking against his face, and he groaned like he was addicted to it. He licked you through it, through your shaking thighs and gasping sobs, until you were trembling and pleading and yanking at his hair.

He rose over you, lips slick, pupils blown wide.

"You taste just as incredible as you used to," he said hoarsely, stroking himself as he crawled back over you. "I’m gonna ruin you."

You grabbed his face, pulled him close, lips clashing. "Please."

And he did.

He slammed into you in one deep, devastating thrust that made your eyes roll back.

You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders. He set a brutal pace, fucking you into his mattress like a man possessed, like every second without you had been agony.

"You’ve always been mine," he growled, hips snapping hard against yours. "Tell me you never stopped."

"Yours," you gasped. "Yours, George, fuck—don’t stop—"

He flipped you onto your stomach, dragged your hips up, and drove into you again from behind, one hand tangled in your hair, the other splayed over your lower back to hold you still.

The sounds—your moans, the slap of skin, the creak of the bed—filled the room, obscene and perfect.

You were gone. Wrecked. Nothing but sensation and him.

He reached around, fingers circling your clit, and you shattered with a scream, clenching around him so tight he cursed loudly, bucked once more, and spilled into you with a groan that sounded like your name and a prayer.

You collapsed into the sheets, limp and breathless. He followed, covering your body with his, panting into your neck.

"Still with me?" he asked, voice wrecked.

You turned your head, kissed the corner of his mouth. "Always."

He chuckled darkly, still catching his breath. "Hope you're not done. I’m not finished with you."

You grinned at him, panting, glowing. “We’ve got a few years to catch up on, you know. Our plans from 6th year said that I was supposed to have a ring and a pregnancy by now,” you tease.

And from the way he was already hardening again against your thigh—you knew he’d make up for lost time. 

He didn’t give you a moment to rest, not until the moon was casting over the backyard, encasing the party still roaring outside in a cool, whispered glow. 

-----

Later, when you finally emerged, flushed and radiant with something more than just exertion, Fred’s eyes caught yours. Ginny’s followed. They didn’t say a word—just exchanged a look, one that spoke of too many shared conversations and the soft satisfaction of being right.

You didn’t let go of George’s hand.

He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice low enough only for you.

“It’ll be ours next.”

You turned to him. "What?"

He didn’t hesitate.

“The wedding. It’ll be us getting married next.”

And this time, you didn’t flinch.

You smiled.

You believed him.

-----

tagging: @jamespotteraliveversion @hanneh69 @glennussy

[dilucpainsme]

Break the cycle (Phainon/Kevin x reader)

So this is my first time writting for HSR, I'm not totally caught up on the lore for this world so if there are any mistakes this isn't canon so deal with it. The Hi3rd lore is also tied into this so if you don't understand it, its not that important so like oh well. ANyway if you want a more in depth one shot of one the lives request it in my inbox. or if u have an au for another life let me know lol ANy who im very rusty on my nsfw so dont come for me.

Tags: Slight NSFW, Death, Blood, Death, Hurt no comfort, slight gore??

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏

Every Chryso’s heir has a flaw; everyone knew that. Whether it be losing you’re humanity, being lethal to others, or being unkillable. There was always something that you had to give up. (Y/n)’s felt like it was her sanity, but in reality, she was cursed to always relive her past lives in some way or another. She swore she wouldn’t let it happen again. Or at least that’s what she told herself. Once she entered the Holy City, it felt like her life was shifting. The familiar feeling of his presence was around. “Oh, that’s Phainon over there! Hey! Snowy!!” The man turned and waved, his eyes meeting with (Y/n)’s. She felt her heart stop the moment she made eye contact with him. The bright blue gaze that she had seen many times before was accompanied by the just as bright white hair. The way it complemented his stunning eyes. “Kevin?” She whispered, standing there with Tribbe.

It couldn’t be. This can’t be happening again.

The man approached the two of them, smiling all the while. That charming smile that she missed so badly. Yet she could’ve gone her entire life without seeing again, knowing the fate that was now bound to happen. “I’m Phainon, and you are?” He sounded exactly the same. How? How is this man Kevin, but also not? Was the universe being so cruel to her this time?

She refused to let this happen again. She would stop the cycle from going on. (Y/n) Decided then and there that she would avoid this man and make him hate her. “None of your concern.” Her expression changed from confused to disgusted. She saw him retract the hand he was holding to her. The female watched as his brows furrowed, and he seemed utterly lost. She just walked past him, Tribbe following after the female hurriedly.

Phainon just stood there, very unsure of what had happened. “Do you know her perhaps?” Algaea asked as she approached the man, watching the two interact just mere seconds ago. “I don’t think so?” He turned to see her walking along with the young girl. Smiling at her words, but as soon as her gaze met his again, she glared. She glared.

“It appears she must not like you.”

“Well, you don’t say.”

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Everywhere she looked, she saw him. Kevin-Or damn it was Phainon here. He was always where she wanted to be, and when he spotted her, it was like a puppy running up to their owner.

“(Y/n)! How are you today? The weather is lovely, isn’t it?”

“(Y/n), do you have any plans today?”

“Would you like me to show you around?”

“Have dinner with me, perhaps?”

“Tell me about yourself?”

Every. Single. Time.

She was about to be fed up with it. Why did the man want to befriend her so badly? (Y/n) was becoming irritated with him in this life. He was always so persistent in the other ones, too. So she shouldn’t be shocked he was here as well. So when she was in the market today and he approached her, there wasn’t much she could do this time. “(Y/n)! How are you liking it here so far? It’s pretty great, right?”

“It’s nice,” She rolled her eyes, walking away from him, but the man was too stubborn, and she heard his boots clicking against the stone pavement as she walked. “Have you had the chance to enjoy the warm baths yet?” She didn’t respond. The female didn’t want to go on talking with him; she just wanted to enjoy her day and then go to sleep later, but he just wouldn’t stop talking. (Y/n) did love his voice, though; it was one thing about him that made her fall hard. He could talk for hours on end, and she would just listen. Yet the fate that was ahead caused her to snap out of her daydreaming. “I had a question for you!”

“What is it now?” She groaned and stopped, turning to look towards him. Basket in her hands. It had a few things in it: some fruit, wine, and fabric.

“I heard you tell Castorice that she could call you (N/n) as a nickname! Mind if I use it?” Hearing that name come out of his mouth gave her flashbacks. So many. All at once. The way he would laugh it, kiss her so sweetly right before saying it, the feeling made her sick. After all, it was him who started calling her that.

“Don’t ever call me that.” Her brows furrowed, and her (e/c) eyes glared into his disgustly beautiful blue ones. She turned on her heel and quickly stormed away, trying so hard to fight the tears that begged to spill out.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

The first time she met Kevin, they were both attending school, and the only reason he even talked to her in the first place was because of Mei. He had his sights set on her best friend, but after Mei told him she wasn’t interested, he kept talking to (N/n). Asking for advice as to how he could gain Mei’s affection, but over time, he fell for (Y/n) instead.

And he fell hard, too.

It was the small things about her that made him swoon. How she cared so much for her friends, and she knew so much about the most important people in her life. After that, it was her smile, and how infectious it was to others. If she smiled, then everyone around her would as well. Her laugh felt like a siren's song to him. She had the most gorgeous laugh he had ever heard. It was–He couldn’t even say everything he liked about her, he loved about her.

It truly didn’t take her long to feel the same way, but both of them were too scared to ruin what they already had. So close, yet so far from what they really wanted. Even so, the two spent every free second they had together. (Y/n) always finding him first. Asking him what he was doing after school, or what he was doing later that weekend. It was usually so she could drag him into some sort of hangout she planned. To their friend group, they were already dating. Mei saying it was only a matter of time before the two became official.

“You like her, don’t you?” Su asked the simple question, but it held so much meaning behind it. “What?” Kevin glanced at his friend. “The way you two are together, it's clear you both have feelings for one another. You should ask her out.”

“I don’t think she likes me like that, Su, I mean (Y/n) is so-” He was at a loss for words. He couldn’t even describe her. Su gave Kevin a look. “You should do it. Today.”

But that same day, as school was ending, the third Honkai eruption had begun. He tried his best to get to the girl before anything could happen. He would drag her away. Both he and Mei were searching for her, but it was too late. He watched as (Y/n) was killed by a Honkai beast, Mei, trying to drag him away. The creature tearing her apart as she was defenseless. Their eyes met for the very last time. “(N/n)!!”

“Kev-” She didn’t finish her words before Mei dragged him inside.

That was the first time she meant Kevin.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

“Coreflame?”

“Yes, if we kill this Titan, Phainon would be the one to obtain this Coreflame.”

“A Demigod,” (Y/n) spoke, staring at the stars surrounding them, the sigils in the sky. “We’re a long way from that, though. We still don’t even know where they are hiding out,” She nodded her head at Aglaea’s words. Would his fighting the titan get one of them killed in this life? Something inside of her told her yes, it would be. Yet even as she tried to show the man how much she disliked him, he didn’t care.

He was persistent. As she had already figured out.

As she was leaving with Aglaea, he just happened to be at the exit, smiling. “Phainon,” the blonde greeted and walked away, giving the two of them some space. (Y/n) wanted to follow, but she felt a hand on her arm.

“Let go of me.” She wasn’t asking, she was telling him.

“I want to talk, come on. " She stared blankly at him, trying her best to seem menacing so he would leave her alone. It clearly wasn’t working as he held his sheepish smile, and kept his gaze focused on her. The female sighed loudly and caved.

“Fine,” Phainon did a small cheer, and he released his hold on her. The man cleared his throat and confidently flashed her another smile before asking his question. “Did I do something to offend you, (Y/n)?” She frowned as her name left his mouth. It did something to her, pulling at the strings in her heart. She missed him saying her name.

“No,”

“I must have done something to you then. You seem to avoid me like the black tide, and I can’t understand why. If I can fix it, please inform me how to.” She looked at him with a strange emotion of pain in her eyes. Like she wanted to tell him something, but she couldn’t. He almost saw the tears that begged to escape her lower lashes, but she wiped her face before speaking.

“I wish you could fix it, but—” She paused. “You can’t. It’s something with me, not you. Just please stay away from me.” The girl pushed past the man, quickly running away. She couldn’t face him, and cry, because then he would console her. Because Phainon was like that. He was kind and would do something like that for people, even if she was an ass to him; and surely if he did that to her the girl would cave even more.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

The second time she meant him was when she joined MOTH. She was recruited by Elysia, and how could she say no to her? That woman was convincing. So the first time she stepped foot into the place, her eyes met with Kevin's, and his with hers. Something between them clicked like always. He was entranced by her, and she by him. Elysia thought they would get along very well, especially with the fire she could sense between them, but…

They fought. All the time.

At least in front of everyone else. Bickering back and forth, both of them stressed over the constant war hanging over their heads. Arguing over what to do next because the girl was stubborn and hated to be bossed around. Especially when it was Kevin telling her what to do.

But behind closed doors, it was a different story. They didn’t fight. The two of them got along just fine. Maybe that’s because for a minute it didn’t seem like the world was in their hands. They could just be dumb young adults. Two people who were trying to figure themselves out. Falling asleep in each other's beds, cuddling up to one another. It was sweet, and nobody really knew that they were like this.

It gave the girl some hope that maybe this would all come to an end, and they could live out their lives together somewhere in the world. She truly felt that she could fall in love with him. Yet she was terrified that if they did more than just talk and cuddle, it would affect their mission.

He changed that one night.

“(Y/n),” She was lying her head on his chest, almost about to fall asleep. It had been a long, grueling day; she almost lost him on the battlefield to the 6th Herrscher, but everyone turned out fine. Even if they fought horribly with each other after that. “What, Kev?” The female opened her eyes a little and lazily looked up at him. His bright blue eyes sent a chill down her spine.

He stared at her for a long time. “Kevin, what?” She laughed a little, a nervous tone underneath it. He leaned down a bit and pressed a kiss against her lips. He couldn’t help it. He wanted her, he needed her, he loved her. After today, a world without her would be too cruel for him to bare.

She was truly not expecting that to happen. A lecture from him? Maybe but. Of course, the female kissed back, their bodies fumbling a little as she moved herself on top of him, their lips never parting once.

She could go on like this, as long as she had him.

And it was like that for a while, but then the seventh Herrscher attacked, and they couldn’t fight her off as humans. They were no match for a god of her strength. It took a lot out of everyone and toll their relationship. Kevin was beyond his normal stressed-out self. He was angry and snappy, and she felt herself losing the person she loved.

It got even worse when Mobius and Mei proposed using the MANTIS experiment. And then Kevin offered to be the first subject.

“There is no way in hell that you are going to do that!”

“Someone needs to be the test subject and I–”

“You have no idea what could happen! You have no clue what that could do to you!” (Y/n) turned to glare at her lover, her face full of worry and concern for Kevin. Even though she bickered with him all the time and wanted nothing more than to slap some sense into him right now, she loved him. He kept her going. (Y/n) couldn’t bare the thought of a world without him. She wouldn’t make it.

“We need to defeat the 7th Herrscher, and if we don’t, we will all die.”

“You defeated the 6th one just fine if we try harder-”

“(Y/n) we can’t. We’ve tried. You don’t get a say in what I do.”

“Kevin, we may not agree on everything, but this—” She didn’t realize how close she had gotten to the man or how the two of them were yelling at each other. “I love you. Please, don’t do this.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, hiding the icy blue spheres that held his feelings. “We don’t have a choice (N/n).”

Even after she begged him not to, he went through with it. Although he came out fine and defeated the 7th Herrscher, there was one more problem. He couldn’t be near any humans. If he even tried to get near her, it would hurt her, and she wouldn’t be able to withstand it. Kevin was so cold, not just emotionally but physically. She begged Mobius to use the MANTIS experiment on her, but Elysia and Kevin both told her she wasn’t allowed to. It made her angry, if she wasn’t human, then she could be near him again and–But the man said he didn’t want that fate for her. He didn’t know what it would do to her.

Though they kept fighting the honkai, Kevin became one of their strongest fighters. He was a soldier. He defeated Herrscher after Herrscher with no problem until the 12th came into play. It was nearly impossible to predict the damage that would come from her.

(Y/n), being the way she was thought that she could stop the damn thing from hurting someone else. She shoved one of her comrades out of the way and took the blow that sealed her fate. Kevin scurried over to her, not caring about the surrounding Honkai. They didn’t have much time, he needed to stun the god and get everyone else to the cryo pods and–He didn’t care about that right now as (Y/n) lay in his arms, bleeding, smiling at him. “Hey, look at that, you finally got to touch me again!”

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

“What are the three of you up to now?” (Y/n) had her hands on her hips as she watched the triplets hide something behind their backs. “Nothing…nothing at all.”

She eyed them a bit longer, hoping to scare the answer out of them, but luckily, Mydei came to their defense. “I’m having the girls do me a favor.” She smiled at the large man, and then the girls took that as their chance to run off. “We have to hurry up! Trianne, come on!” Tribios grabbed the girl, and they quickly scurried down the steps.

“So what secret task are you having them do?” While avoiding Phainon, Mydei and (Y/n) had become pretty good friends. It truly wasn’t her intention to befriend someone else, but the man had approached her, wanting to become friends. Odd sure. But who was she to say no to him? He was a prince after all. “Don’t worry about it,” He crossed his arms and looked at the female up and down. “Where are you heading?” She was dressed in something different from her usual attire. Something he took notice of very quickly.

“The baths.” He nodded his head. “Want me to come along?” She put her hand on her chest and dramatically gasped.

“The crowned Prince Mydei wants to spend time with little old me?”

“Maybe not if you keep acting like that,” She laughed a little, covering her smile.

“Fine, fine, yeah, I don’t mind if you tag along.” Phanion was there, around the corner, listening. He didn’t mean to, but he was avoiding her like she was him. If the girl didn’t want him around that much, then fine, he would stay out of her way. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned about her. She was hiding something, and he didn’t know what. From the moment she entered the city, she was a pure mystery to him.

It bugged him so much, and all because something about her drew him in. The way she laughed so carelessly with her friends or her smile. It was so infectious. It was all so; he couldn’t place it. Phainon wanted to be friends with her, so he sent Mydei in to see if she would confess why she hated him so much. Yet the man was straying from the task and befriended her instead, and he thought the girl was falling for the prince. It didn’t bother him, or at least that's what he kept telling himself.

So what if the Chyrso Heir didn’t like him? He would just figure out why and move on. Right?

Wrong, he was so very wrong as he watched the girl walk off with Mydei, laughing happily as she elbowed him a little.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

The third time she ran into Kevin, they were on opposing teams. She had worked with him for some time, and then she saw how mad he was getting. Maybe from the grief of Mei dying all those years ago, but eventually she left his cause, and she found herself at St. Freya's with Kiana, going through a wild journey with her. They became like sisters. (Y/n) felt like she was the older sister constantly doting on her, and making sure she was listening to Himeko. Even after everything the girl went through, she still stood by her side, ready to help her fight.

Even if she found herself on the opposite side of the battlefield, trying to stop Kevin from going through with Project Stigma. It was no use, though; he was already too far gone. Worse than she remembered.

She aided Kiana in the battle. Fighting just as hard, watching her friend succeed in her goal to stop him. Of course, fate was so cruel to her, like always– she didn’t make it to the end, and both she and Kevin died in the fight. (Y/n) wished it were different. The girl knew he thought differently from her; he always did since the first time they met at MOTH. The last thing she saw before closing her eyes in that life was Kiana shaking her, begging her to wake up. “I’m going to see Himeko now, okay, Kiana?” Her eyes glanced over to Kevin’s corpse, smiling a little. She would see him too.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

“Mydei!” (Y/n) laughed as the man splashed some water at her. He wasn’t usually this playful, but today, he seemed to be in a good mood. The two of them were getting closer every day; she really thought this time it would be different. She was going to break the cycle. Even if every time Phainon looked at her, she felt her heart twinge. “Stop!” The girl laughed once more, trying to block her face from getting water on it.

“Mind if I join?” That familiar voice made her smile fade, and she turned to see the snowy white hair. “I don’t care,” Mydei replied, the small smile he had disappearing as well.

“It’s rare to see you act so childish, Mydei.” He just rolled his eyes and muttered ‘HKS’ at Phanion. It was true, though, the man never acted too childish around anyone, well, not that she knew of. (Y/n) sat back down and gently tapped the warm water with her fingers, trying to avoid the stare that was settling on her.

“So (Y/n), we haven’t spoken in a while. How are you adjusting in the Holy City? Are you finally used to the moon not being here?”

“I suppose.” She kept her gaze on the water. “More time for practicing combat, isn’t that right, (N/n)?” Mydei said.

“I don’t need to practice like you.” She teased.

“What weapon do you use?” Phainon’s voice cut through their playful banter that was just starting.

“A sword, nothing fancy.” She turned her attention from Mydei to Phainon. She supposed talking to him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. If she was going to stay here for a long time, she might as well become somewhat civil with the other Chryso Heir. Plus, the girl was already very fond of the blonde next to her, so if she were to become friends with Phainon, it wouldn’t be so bad, right?

“Maybe we should spare some time, I would love to have another friendly competition with someone other than Mydei.”

“Sure,” the smile that grew on his face made her smile right back at him. She loved seeing that smile, but she hated to admit it. It made her feel some sort of comfort she couldn’t place. Maybe knowing he was alive made her heart throb.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

The fourth time their paths crossed might have been her favourite. “Hi, welcome to Mantis cafe. What can I get you?” Her voice was monotone and laced with boredom until she looked up. The cutest boy she had ever seen was right in front of her, and oh my god–His eyes were such a gorgeous blue, and the white hair that was in his eyes made them pop even more. She felt her face get red, and she quickly looked back down at the POS screen. “I’m not sure, can you suggest something that has a lot of caffeine? I have a test I’m cramming for, and sorry I’m talking way too much.”

“Oh, uhm, you’re fine. Yeah, I’ll just put in a blonde roast for you; it's pretty strong.” She smiled at him, and he gave her the same one in return.

After that, he came into the coffee shop every day, and they had become pretty good friends, and somehow he just happened to know when she was on her break. It totally wasn’t Elysia who told him. So they got to chatting, and he was so smart. Otherworldly smart. He knew so much about science and physics. He was majoring in some sort of science thing she couldn’t understand, but she loved it when he went on and on about it. His voice made her all giddy.

Then one day, “Can I ask you something?” She was on her break, and they were sitting outside the cafe. The weather was lovely for once, and she needed some sun after being cooped up in the stuffy coffee shop all day long. Yeah, what’s up?” She glanced up from her phone.

“Do you wanna go out with me?”

“Huh?!” Her face turned a bright shade of red, and her eyes widened. Him. Kevin. Wanted to go out with her? She thought it was a joke for a second, like for real? Her? She was a mess all of the time and smelled like coffee. The girl always had stains on her clothes. She could never do her makeup right, and her hair looked like she had never brushed it. Although in her defense, it just got like that throughout the day. A lot of time must have passed because when he spoke again, he looked defeated.

“It’s okay to say no,” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “No! I mean, yes! Yeah, I want to go out with you, I just-”

“Good! I really don’t like coffee, so I was getting worried I was coming for nothing.” She laughed really hard at that. The fact that only reason he would come to this overpriced cafe was to see her every day. It did make the female feel special. Only a little.

Within the next few months, they had become official. They went out on dates and spent time together when they could. She was always working mornings, and he was in school most days, but when they had time, they were at each other's houses.

“You know, it would be easier to see you more if you just moved in.”

She whipped her head around to look at him. “Kevin!”

“What?” He laughed. “We’ve only been together three months!”

“And?”

“And I see you every single day!”

“Yea,h but think about waking up next to me after a very long night of–”

“Kevin!!”

That’s how she was moving in weeks later. Elysia and Mei were teasing her relentlessly about it. Things were good. They were really good. They were going steady for over a year and were finally celebrating their anniversary. Kevin had planned this whole big date for the two of them. A fancy dinner, a night under the stars, a moonlit walk. Super cheesy stuff, and she was living for it. But… “It’s storming pretty bad, should we cancel?” (Y/n) looked out the window, her eyes worried at the road’s condition. “It’s just some rain, (N/n), it’ll be fine.” He didn’t sound too concerned, so she trusted his judgement

The man had never been wrong before, so he was right, and it would be fine but…

It wasn’t fine. It was far from it. Somehow, when they were driving, someone crashed into them, causing two other cars to crash as well. It all happened so quickly, and she didn’t realize what was going on until she looked over and saw her lover covered in blood. As much as she tried to get to him, she couldn’t. Her vision was fading in and out, blood dripping into her eyesight, not helping her already fading sight. “Kevin-” He wasn’t breathing, and soon she wouldn’t be either.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

She was laughing. With Phainon. Happily. It didn’t even connect in her brain that they were friends now. So much had happened recently. Some travelers from beyond came, and they were helping them in so many ways, and now they could find Nikador and defeat him. Phainon was so close to getting what he wanted, and she was so happy for him, overjoyed in fact. “That’s such a dumb joke, Phai,” She nudged him a little, and rested her back against the wall. They were relaxing outside after spending some time in the shops earlier.

It had been so crazy lately, so she was happy just to get a second to breathe. After a few weeks ago in the baths, she wanted to give him a chance to be friends. He weasled his way back into her heart, and she couldn’t not be friends with him. Instantly, once they got along, it was magnetic.

They clicked. She knew they would, they always did. “You love my humor,” He said.

“Maybe, or maybe I just laugh so your ego won’t hurt,”

“Ouch, that one stung.” (Y/n) just shook her head, smiling. They were quiet for a long while. The comforting silence between them.

After some time had passed, she finally spoke. “Are you ready to finally get the Core Flame?” Her voice was less playful, and she looked at the never-changing sky. “I suppose,”

“Haven’t you been waiting you’re whole life for this?”

“Maybe, but I think Mydei should have it, or even you.” She glanced up at him. “You deserve this. Nikador is your battle to fight. Of course, we’ll help, but you should deliver the final blow.”

“I-” He paused. “You think so, (N/n)?” The female reached down and grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Absolutely, Phai.” He turned to stare at her, his soft expression making her melt. She loved him. In every life, she couldn’t help but love him. It was consuming in a way that nothing else felt. If this were all they could be in life, she would be okay with that. As long as they both lived. She could go on this way.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

The fifth time they meant was pure accident in her opinion. She was out with Elysia and Mei at a club when a guy accidentally spilled his drink on her. “Hey! Watch out!” As she was very angrily trying to wipe away the red drink that was all over her new dress, she looked up and saw the very handsome man who spilled said drink on her. Then suddenly all was forgiven, and they were chatting the entire night away. He was interesting, that was for sure. He was some guy who worked for the MOTH science lab downtown.

Honestly, the girl had no clue what he was talking about. She was drunk by this point and needed to get home. The whole night was a blur, and somehow, she had gotten home with Kevin wrapped around her. All she can recall is that the snowy-haired man was in her bed, and their clothes were tossed everywhere in her room.

From there, a one-night stand turned into three years of a situation-ship. Never confirming if they were together, but not correcting anyone if the person said the two of them were dating. She truly liked him, but (Y/n) was too scared to ask. She really just went along with whatever he wanted. Kevin was boyfriend-ish with her. Cuddling her when the two of them were alone, or buying her gifts randomly. Especially when there was an occasion to buy said gift on. Christmas was always a fun time for her.

“You should just move in together at this point (N/n),” Elysia said as she was going through the women's closets. Kevin asked her to come over, and he said, ‘Wear something cute.’ So she called Ellie over here to help her. “I don’t think he sees me that way, Elys.”

“I don’t know the way he talks about you; it's like he is gushing over a girlfriend,” The pinkette giggled and turned her attention back, digging through her friend's closet.

Then, later that same day, she made her way over to Kevin’s house. To be fair, this life’s death was a crazy accident as well. The building he was staying in caught on fire, and the man died, not being able to escape, but he made sure she got out just fine. He would be damned if the girl he loved didn’t get out of this stupid place alive. It was his fault she was here after all. So as he shoved her out of the building, he very sweetly mumbled something to her.

“I love you (N/n),”

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

(Y/n) made ripples in the water as she stared at her own reflection. Phainon had been spending more and more time with her. It was pushing the line of friends. The number of times she found herself wanting more than just long hugs and late ‘night’ talks. The girl could also tell he wanted more too, the way he was hesitant to leave her room, or how he would stare at her after the long hug they would share. She was devastated and couldn’t bring herself to give in. As much as she wanted, it wouldn’t be good.

Suddenly, the water rippled more than she was expecting from her movements, and the water sloshed. She looked up and saw Phainon getting in with her. “Hey (N/n),” he smiled, and god, he smiled that sweet, enchanting smile of his.

“Hi Phai,” she greeted him back, and her eyes went to the water again. “You’re avoiding me again,” he laughed, but she could tell that he was worried. Of course, he was. They were making progress, and she felt like she knew him her entire life—because, in a way, she had.

“I am not,”

“Come on, tell me what's wrong.” She closed her eyes and sighed. If only it were that easy to explain to him. If (Y/n) could tell him all about the cruel past that she had to relive every time she closed her eyes. “I’m just-” She paused and looked up at him, her facial expression somber. “I’m worried about the battle with Nikador, I mean, how do we even stop him, ya know?”

“Now are you doubting my fighting abilities (Y/n)?” He laughed a little, but seeing that joke didn’t change her sour expression, he sighed. He removed his arm from her shoulder and grabbed the hand that was playing in the water. “What is really bugging you?”

“If I say what I want to, it’ll change everything,” She sighed and thumbed over the top of his hand. Her eyes focused on their intertwined fingers that were in the water. She felt him tense a little as the words left her mouth. Fuck. She was being cryptic and he–

“What if it doesn’t?”

(Y/n) lifted her head up to meet his gaze, his stare so intense and full of something, hope maybe. “I doubt that, Phainon.”

“I don’t think it will because, (N/n), I like you.” Her heart tightened in her chest. No, not again, please. “There's this thing about you I can’t place. I’m drawn to you and I have no idea why, well I do but–” He laughed and paused for a minute. “You’re the most caring person I know, I see how you take care of you’re friends and how much you worry for them. You are extremely witty and funny, and then you have this smile. It’s infectious to others. If you smile, then everyone around you will as well. Plus, on top of that, you have this laugh, and every time I get to hear it, I feel so lucky.” He paused, now both of his hands held hers, and he didn’t move his gaze from the girl.

If anything, it grew more intense, and she couldn’t look away. How could she when he was staring at her like that? Again. “There's so much more about you, I want to be more than this.” It’s happening. If he were to be with her, she would surely get him killed again. She couldn’t do it anymore. If she had to live through one more life where one of them would die. Her heart hurt so bad, more than it ever has. At least before, she wasn’t aware of the pain from her past lives. She could be blissfully happy and fall in love with him. Over and over again. But here? She knew the fate that awaited them.

“(Y/n),” She felt the tears welling up in her eyes as he spoke her name. Fuck. What was she to do when he looked at her like that? His eyes boring into her soul. “I want more than this too,” She nearly whispered the words. The female meant it in a different way than him but–(Y/n) couldn’t help herself. Maybe this time it wouldn’t happen. Because she knew. Right?

He leaned down to her level. She was so lost in her own mind that she didn’t even see him get so close. Now, his face was mere inches away from hers. “Don’t avoid me anymore, please, " he whispered. The sentence sent chills down her spine—chills she was familiar with. The way he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers just felt so right—like they were made for one another.

The female didn’t pull away; she stayed put, pressing her lips against his even harder. The familiar feeling brought her emotions that she couldn’t understand. All she wanted was him, all she needed was him. “Phai,”

“(N/n),” She paused.

The water splashed around as she was pulled into his lap on top of him. “We’re in a public bath house, you know this, right?” The female laughed a little as she rested her forehead against his.

“You’re right, we should go back to my room.”

“Phainon!”

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Again.

And again

And again.

And again.

The dreams never let her sleep long. Each time it hurt more and more. Screaming out for Kevin, begging for him to save her, or calling to him as he lay there bleeding. The nightmares haunted her, reminding the girl of the fate she was bound to in each life. This time it wasn’t Kevin she was calling for, she was screaming for Phainon.

Watching as Mei dragged him away from the outside hall that (Y/n) was currently being attacked in. He was trying his best to resist, but the girl wanted to get him out of there. She was pleading for him to come back. The words echoed in the hallway as the door slammed shut. “Phainon! Please!” Only for her eyes to meet with the Honkai beast hovering over her.

“(Y/n),”

“(Y/n),”

“(N/n)!”

She sat up, her chest heaving up and down, her eyes watering as she stared at the large room she was in. The daylight was pouring through all the windows so brightly. She searched around the room and saw next to her Phainon sitting up in bed, staring at her very concernedly. “Phai,” she panted and buried her head in her hands, fingers grabbing at the hair that spilled forward.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it was just a dream.” She shook her head, trying to tell herself that it wouldn’t happen again. That was the past, she was aware now. She would avoid the death sentence.

“You were screaming in your sleep.” He pulled the female close to his side, as she buried her head in his chest. She was shaking, her heart beating so rapidly he could feel it. The male placed a kiss on top of her head. He wasn’t sure what she encountered in the black tide, but whatever it was must be worse than him. Little did he know it wasn’t the black tide that scared her. It was losing him that did. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, gods no.” Her voice was muffled as she hid her face from him, trying to collect herself.

“It may make you feel better,”

“It won’t trust me, I just wanna go back to sleep.”

She didn’t get any more sleep.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

“Please let me come with you tomorrow.”

(Y/n) was begging Phainon to let her come along to the battle of Nikador, but he was refusing. “It’ll be fine, Mydei, and I will be just fine, my love.” For some reason, she didn’t think that would be the case.

“I’m extremely useful, you know this better than anyone else.”

“No, (N/n).”

The girl let out a groan and dramatically fell onto the bed, rolling herself in the blankets. She could hear his amused chuckle from behind. She was always one for the dramatics. He found it endearing, but then again, she was stubborn. Double-edged sword, he supposed.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Well, I guess a kiss would make me feel better,” she sat up on the bed and smiling sweetly at her boyfriend. “Really? That’s all?” The female shrugged and kept her rotten smile.

“Fine, if that’s all.” He walked towards the girl. Phainon leaned down, his hair getting in his eyes a bit as he moved to place a kiss against the female's lips. The moment he was within arm's reach, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him down on top of her, laughing the whole time. “Ah- (Y/n)!” He couldn’t help but laugh with her as he caught himself in time so he wouldn’t crush her. His arms rested on either side of her head as he hovered above her slightly.

“Was this your plan all along?” She nodded her head. “Perhaps, but there's more to it.” Phainon raised a brow and leaned down to give her another kiss as her arms wrapped around his neck. It started out sweet, and really his intentions weren’t more than a simple kiss, but the minute the girl playfully nipped at his lips, he couldn’t help himself.

A switch flipped in him. The careful, loving kisses turned into rough, messy makeout. Neither of them barely got a chance to breathe between each and every desperate kiss, the feeling making (Y/n) feel lightheaded, a dizziness swept over her, and yet she couldn’t get enough of him. The way his lips tasted against her, how he would quickly bite her lower lip enough for her to open her mouth. Just so he could slip his tongue in. She just wanted more. So much more.

“Phai,”

“What am I going to fast?” He chuckled.

“Not fast enough,”

The words made him remove his lips and then replace them right on her neck. She felt herself jolt at the instant feeling of his teeth biting down. She heard him laugh once again and went on with what he was doing. Her hands went to his hair, tugging him along to the most sensitive spot on her neck.

“Inpatient, are we?”

“Shut up and-” As she was talking, the man had pulled her dress down enough to expose her chest, and he wasted no time moving down to lick the exposed nipple. She stopped talking once she felt his warm tongue swipe against the sensitive bud.

Just as they were getting into it–

A knock on the door stopped both of them.

“Phainon, Aglaea said it’s time.” Castorice was at the door, her soft voice speaking to the man on top of (Y/n). The girl's wide eyes stared up at her boyfriend. He just smiled and placed a kiss against her lips. “Coming, coming,”

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Unfortunately, Aglaea suggested that (Y/n) go along with the group to defeat Nikador. Understandably, Phainon wasn’t very happy about this but she was. This way, she could keep an eye on her lover and make sure nothing would happen to him. She would do everything in her power to stop history from repeating itself. But the unexpected problem came in when they couldn’t defeat the god. The group had to split.

This worried her, and it scared her to her very core. Yet Phainon suggested that the girl go along with Stelle and Castorice. “I am not-”

“Go! I’m not asking you (Y/n), I’m telling you!”

“Come on,” Stelle grabbed the female and pulled her away from the fight. They didn’t have much time already. “No, it's going to happen agai,n I can’t-”

“(Y/n) now!”

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

The girl was thrown back into battle, and hearing his voice gave her a moment of relief. “You hear that? They’ve returned!” It only took seconds for the girl to snap into fighting mode. Things were going well, and she was sure—so sure it would be different. It had to be. It wasn’t Kevin, it was Phainon. So that must mean that fate wanted to spare her this time, right?

She wanted to be right so badly.

So much so that she made an error. She was so close. It would have been different this time if she hadn’t been so focused on making it that way. Nikador went to strike at the same time as she did; his attention, for some reason, was focused on her instead of the others. The gods must hate her.

The blade struck her straight through her stomach, and this must be some sort of joke, right? The world wouldn’t let her fall in love with him all over again just to take it away. Right?

“So close,” She mumbled.

After that, everything seemed to be one big blur. One minute, Nikador was there, and then he wasn’t. There was a floating Coreflame, and her lover was rushing over to her side.

“(Y/n), no!” He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. “It happened again,” She mumbled.

“What happened again? (N/n)?”

“I thought this time for sure it would end differently.” The metallic taste of blood was flooding her mouth. “Wanna know my flaw?” She weakly looked up at the man who held her heart for years.

“I remember every past I’ve ever lived, doomed to repeat it.” She blinked a little, her vision going in and out. A familiar feeling. “I just thought for once maybe it would be different, one of us wouldn’t die.”

“No, this isn’t right, you’ll be fine-”

“Get the coreflame, you deserve it.”

He shook his head, eyes starting to water. “I’ll see you again, okay? Just might take a while.” Her hand reached for his face, but she didn’t make it. She didn’t get to hold him one last time. She died in his arms. Just like before. Doomed to repeat the cycle.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜ

(Y/n) yawned as she woke up, rubbing her eyes lazily. She swore she had a weird dream again, but she couldn’t really remember what it was about. She just knew it had something to do with some sort of Greek mythology. She always had weird dreams she could never recall. The female glanced at the time on her phone.

7 A.M

Weird time for her to wake up, she usually slept til ten, but she was up now. Phainon was probably up as well. He was always up before her. She threw the blankets off of her and slumped her way into the small kitchen of their shared apartment. “Phai, did you make coffee?”

“For you? Of course.” He wrapped an arm around the female once she was near him and pulled her in for a kiss. “How did you sleep?”

She shrugged. “Fine, I guess, but have you seen the weather alerts? The snow is really bad today. Maybe we should meet up with Algaea and Anaxa some other time.”

“It’s your birthday, we are not canceling.”

“Fine, fine, give me the creamer.”

[gojonanami]

[lovely sab, if you do me the honor of answering this, please consider tagging it as jjk manga spoilers for those who haven't read it yet]

the way the manga is going imma crawl once again in your inbox and BEG you to keep up the fanon work cause

DAMN IT ALL WITH THAT ONE EYED CAT

I was upset when junpei died but i thought, well, it DOES serve the story somehow-

I felt so sad with Rika and the whole becoming a curse thingy, the bittersweet ending of her helping yuta let her go kinda added to it but, well, it DID have a pivotal role for a special grade with so much potential-

amanai's death was so sudden I had to close the manga for a sec, but it starts off geto's villain era and well this IS a major point-

and geto, I was DEVASTATED when he died he is my FAV and while it did stay true to the tragedy of his story it was HEARTBREAKING-

haibara did NOT deserve to die and that is ALL that needs to be said-

toji was kinda going for it, but still his last memory of his wife was a tad too much to bear, still-

AND MIMIKO AND NANAKO, WHY ?? JUST WHY ?? THEY WERE JUST USED FOR THE GRANDEUR OF SUKUNA NO MORE NO LESS-

its WAY too soon to talk for nanami, that man is still gnawing at my mind, all the pressure he had and he never got the chance to get the rest he wanted, still it was probably done to turn yuji to the state he is currently, losing a mentor he had-

i did not like mai to begin with, guilty as charged, but her becoming a sword for her sister, and requesting she destroy everything, it made me bawl-

the zenin clan can die all they want no rant for them

and yuki, well, she did tick me a bit but her dying without even accomplishing her goal-the black hole and all-

hell, NOBARA ????? why ???? WHY GEGE ????

BUT

THE LAST DAMNED STRAW

WAS GOJO NOT ONLY DYING

BUT BEING USED AS A PAWN

AS IF THAT WASNT THE CASE FOR HIS WHOLE LIFE

SO SAB PLEASE KEEP UP I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO GRIEVE THEM ANYMORE

no literally anon, I feel the same way. I feel like we were all fooled by the first season in a way (despite junpei and the other horrors) but we were lulled into thinking it would be okay for our main group.

but it wasn’t.

I’ll never be over nanami tbh — that death literally hurt so bad and mappa made it worse somehow — don’t know how they did it. all the death is supposed to demonstrate how cruel jujutsu is, but at some point I feel like I become both numb but too sensitive to it — like a scabbed over wound that won’t heal because it’s picked at.

gojo hurt so much the first time and 261 feels like I’m mourning him all over again — I honestly am so glad for break week because I don’t think I could take it personally. I’m so worried for yuta - I don’t even know how to deal. and gojo being inflicted to the same fate as geto will never not hurt me.

I am trying 😭 my actor au is my way of acting like everyone is fine and that it’s just a show (I mean it is a show but you know what I mean) - I’m Gege now guys, cannot deal with that one eyed cat anymore 😭😭

[dulcewrites]

Fool Me Once (part 10)

Summary: As tensions arise in King’s Landing, you make moves to assure the safety of your children. Final breaths are taken, pacts are made and broken, steel is drawn and the dragons dance.

Warning: mentions of stillbirths/pregnancy issues, allusions to self harm, some unreliable narrator if you squint. In our f&b bag fr!

A/N: you guys 🥺 we are finally on the last part. First, I want to say I am sooooo sorry about how long it took to get this one out. By the time I’m posting this I’m sort of like, do people even still care lmao 💀. Life has been hectic and tbh I’ve been putting some focus onto other things. Shameless plug to my other, more happy Aemond x oc series, on ao3. As well as I’ve gotten so much amazing feedback and interactions about this fic that I was slightly worried about how people would take the end. Speaking of feedback, and moving on to the more sappy stuff. My writing side blog has grown exuberantly since posting part 1 of fmo last year. It genuinely makes me emotional thinking about the little community that’s come from it. I hope to continue to make more stuff that I’m not only happy with, but further pushes said community ❤️❤️ if y’all have any hotd request let me know. Please reblog, like, and comment. As well as come chat in my inbox if you see something you like.

Slight housekeeping, though if you made it this far you probably already know. This fic does change the dance for self indulgent reasons (lol) and for the narrative of it all. This started as a cheating story and has sort of spun into something entirely else.

Fmo masterlist

Blog masterlist

Ninth moon of 129 AC

Rhaenyra’s voice could be heard from down the hall.

You wanted to reassure yourself that you had heard those screams before from Helaena, or even from yourself giving birth. But there was something so terribly guttural about the ones Rhaenyra was making.

As if outcome of the birth hung in the air. Lingering with the ghost of the past death that happened in the Red Keep. You try not to focus on the sheer look of panic on Jace’s face once you leave him at the door.

By the time you got to her chambers, Rhaenyra is already surrounded by midwives as she is hunched over, palms spread out against the wall. Midwives, and Alicent, whose face was terribly pale. Almost as drained of color as Rhaenyra. Her normally straight blonde hair wavy and stuck to her forehead with the sheen of her own sweat.

Alicent spots you, and gets away from her position from around her. She pulls you over to the side, but before she can even speak you interrupt her. The midwives begin to move Rhaenyra from her standing position to on the bed.

“Has this happened before,” you watch as Rhaenyra pleas lessen and lessen, her state becoming more sedated than what is probably normal.

Alicent shakes her head. Her auburn curls had been released for the night from the tight updo they were in earlier.

“No, at least not the first three,” she swallows hard before coming closer to you. “I fear - I fear this labor may go awry. I think we need to make preparations for if…”

The words catch in the back of Alicent’s throat. She is here with Rhaenyra; she has always been with Rhaenyra. Even when they were at odds; two ghosts haunting each other’s memories. Two sides of the same coin, causalities of the cruel fate. You want to feel sorry her; knowing that she is watching a close… companion go through this, but your mind has been elsewhere since earlier that day.

“Your son has made preparations,” you cross your arms. “All of them actually.”

Alicent brows furrow in confusion, and it dawns on you that Aemond and Aegon never clued their mother in on their little plan.

“You do not know, do you?”

“No, I do not know what your husband has been getting into. I rarely do these days.”

You and her both.

Rhaenyra lets out another groan.

“Where is Daemon,” you ask as Rhaenyra begins to mumble things incoherently to the midwives.

“He took one look at her, and left the room,” Alicent frowns. “She called for him but he went to get Jacaerys instead.”

And Jace came for you on the behest of Alicent. Tis the way of men you suppose. Often, they are absolute nuisance in situations like this, but you could not help but think that mayhaps if Daemon had stayed to seen her in this state, he would not put her through such things again. But that is giving him far more credit than you know he deserves.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra manages to mumble out the name louder. Her eyes fluttering open and shut.

Alicent instantly rushes over, dropping the conservation she has started with you.

As you watch Alicent coax Rhaenyra through this, her words ring out. Though she did not elaborate on what those plans should be, she was right. Aemond had taken the reigns from your hands plenty times before. Safety will not be completely ensured until any threat is taken out. You have never been to battle nor war, and even you know that. A slightly morbid thought creeps into your head.

If Rhaenyra dies, Aegon could descend the throne.

It was laughable for Rhaenyra, or anyone who supports her claim, to believe known bastards would follow her in the line of succession. Or that Daemon would not bypass Rhaenyra’s first three boy in order to ensure power for her last two. It would mean an all-out war between Aegon and Daemon… but maybe it did not have to go that far. Not if plans were made to undercut whatever moves you know Daemon could put into place.

They are all back in King’s Landing, no longer under the false tranquility they tried to spin at Dragonstone. Amongst their patrons who already have much to say about Rhaenyra’s still short reign.

Aegon on the throne would ensure the safety of all of the kids. And not only the kids, but the kingdom as a whole. A war of succession, especially including dragons, would only bring destruction. Rhaenyra’s boys would have a chance to swear obeisance after Daemon is out of the way, and if not, their presence will not be needed. Bastard blood being spilt is nothing compared to the life your children.

They could go back to Dragonstone and live their lives out there with young Egg and Viserys. With the possibility of Daemon for a father, they would be better off for it.

Your thoughts are broken by the midwives telling Rhaenyra to try and push.

There was already a significant amounts of blood trailing where Rhaenyra had been. Her pushes do little to soothe the position she is in. In frustration and pain, eventually Rhaenyra, much to the chagrin of the midwives and Alicent, shoos them all away. Reaching down to pull the babe out herself.

Letting out an already grief-stricken scream as she does it.

The air is sucked from the room as a gush of blood rushes out of Rhaenyra, followed by a tiny body.

A tiny… silent body. Wrapped in scales and slightly deformed.

No one speaks as they watch Rhaenyra pick up the baby from between her legs and rocks it as if trying to lure it into crying, into breathing. But nothing comes. Just silence, and the aches of a daughter stuck in the self-fulfilling prophecy of a mother that is no longer around.

It is not proper nor lady-like, and you can hear your own mother’s voice in the back of your telling you how rude it is in a time like this, but you just turn and leave. Without a word or peep. Suddenly feeling sick you go back down the hall, back to your chambers. Ignoring Jace who calls your name out in confusion by the sudden silence coming from his mother’s room.

By the time you make it back to the room, Aemond had gotten himself ready for bed. Completely casual as if the events earlier meant nothing to him.

“What’s happened,” he notices your ashen face.

You take one look at your husband, you think of your children away in a place foreign to them, and the stillborn baby Rhaenyra clutched in her arms.

The bile comes up quick. So quick you barely make I to the basin on the other side of the room. The dry heaving reminds you that you barely ate anything today, too worried about the task at hand.

You flinch when you feel a cold hand on your back. Shrugging Aemond’s hand off, you turn head with a glare.

“You made your move,” you mutter. “I’ll give you that. But now we are going to this my way. And Aemond, so help me, a single hair on those kid’s heads is harmed and I am not with them, I burn it all to the ground, you with it.”

You don’t know how and when, but you would do it for them if it came to that. You’d do anything for their safety. It may be time for others to realize that.

— — —

Princess Visenya Targaryen is set on the pyre a day and a half later. A small swaddled body lit on fire once Rhaenyra croaked out the words. Syrax blowing a mighty flame to burn Rhaenyra’s only little girl.

She was advised to stay in bed. Though her outward physical ailments had started to heal, it was clear Queen Rhaenyra was sick. Pale skin still prickling with sweat despite the cool air outside, dark bags starting to form under her eyes as she leans gently against the cane she was given.

You stand next to Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon. The only warm you feel from the fire in front on you.

It was slightly shocking when Helaena came up to you before the funeral with guilt written over her soft features.

“I just had… a funny feeling about the kids being here. I’m sorry.”

She knew.

You were not happy about once again feeling like you’re on the outside looking in with people you are supposed to call family. At least Helaena had the decency to feel ashamed by the omission. The decency to apologize. Guilt and Aemond is laughable being in the same sentence, and Aegon had been avoiding you. A thing that has not happened in months. Helaena was always right about these things; the scary part is that you all never really knew till the outcome already happened.

You run your hand over your black mourning dress. Peering out from under your veil, you make eye contact with Daemon across the fire.

Normally mirth filled eyes, and folly written all over his face had been replaced by an emptiness that scared you. Often, you had felt the unearned confidence and ambition around you was just noblemen living up to an expectation put on by others around them. But a Daemon, already known for his rogue behavior, feeling emboldened by the death of his brother, daughter, and the newly weakened state of his wife, made you nervous.

Only compounded when you think about the conversation shared at Dragonstone. Your loyalty was not expected, but even demanded. You can’t help but wonder if the kids not being around has only put a fiercer target on your back, or even on theirs.

You look over at Aegon - messy hair, bored expression, purple circles under his eyes. But he is no worse for wear compared to Rhaenyra.

If it one thing you have learned since being around this family, it is appearances often make up for everything. Slap a smile and nice outfit on, and people tend to believe what they see versus what is underneath the surface.

The funeral ends, and you make a sharp beeline towards Otto.

“I need to run something past you.”

You rake your knuckles against Aegon’s door, and get reply in return. You do it again, this time with more vigor, slightly embarrassed at Ser Arryk just watching you pound away.

“He is in there,” you question, turning to him.

“The last time I checked, he was my lady.”

The last time he checked?

You supposed not ever sworn protector can be as diligent as Quinton, and not every subject can be well behaved.

“Aegon,” you knock once more.

Blowing out frustrated air through your mouth, you turn to go but the door eventually swings open.

His hair is crumpled on one side, shirt unbuttoned, and reeking of wine. It had not hit you that he may be with someone.

“If you are… predisposed, I apologize. I can come back”

A dopey grin breaks out of face, before he hitched the door open wider. “No one is with me. Oh, dovelet were you worried about that?”

You look over to see Arryk raise a brow at you. You push at Aegon, further annoyed. “Go.” Forcing him back into his chambers.

“Everyone is so touchy today.”

You were there, before the funeral, when Alicent fussed at him about going to it. About trying to look engaged, which he clearly did not. You think about the conversation you had with Otto in his office.

“He is not going to like it. He has long come to terms with not wanting to be king.”

“But his wants are of no concern to you now, are they?”

When put that way, you can’t help but feel a bit bad. But it is true. What Aegon wants right now means little to you. He will eventually learn to like it, and if not like it, he will learn to tolerate it. The way others have to tolerate their fate in life. We are all stuck in the same miserable cycle; the only difference is some of us will not be able to call ourselves King of the Seven Kingdoms.

“We need to talk about some things.”

“Black is one your colors,” he changes the subject. “You should wear it more often.”

“Aegon, I’m serious,” you pinch your nose.

“Is this about the kids? I thought you would be happy they are out of harm’s way.”

“They are not out of harm’s way,” your voice raises, and this is not going the way it was supposed to.

You must push him with a gently hand. A woman’s touch.

There was a something slimy about how Otto ended the conversation. Sending you to Aegon to enact a woman’s touch… whatever that meant.

“But they could be,” you lower your voice. “If - If there was someone else at the helm. None of us would have to worry about their safety. About our safety.”

Aegon give you a funny look before flopping down on his bed.

He is drunk so he may not remember any of this by next morning. You sit next to him on the bed.

“There is no running from this. Despite what you may say, you know you would not be able to live with yourself if you left your family, your kids. Aegon, you are too smart not to know what this is all coming to.”

Though not something you voiced yourself, running was an option that crossed your mind. Finding a way out to Oldtown, grabbing your kids, and running. The logistics seemed all to wash away when the word dragon comes along. Traveling with two young kids would be difficult enough, managing to travel discretely with a giant dragon would not work. You don’t know how you would tell Daella to leave Vermithor.

And then a chill would run up your spine. Where could you go where he would not find you on dragon back?

The two of you sit in silence before Aegon sighs softly.

“Share a drink with me,” Aegon whispers. “Before we all die.”

It makes you laugh. Because that is all you can do at the folly that is your life. You nod softly.

The wine is a Dornish Red. Sweet, warm, and sultry tasting drink. It reminds you of the look Aegon is giving you.

Alicent peaks her head into the door.

“Rhaenyra,” she sees baby Aegon and Viserys sitting on their mother’s bed. Both babbling away over each other. Rhaenyra weakly waves her in. Both Egg and Viserys give Alicent tiny little bows. They do it to everyone, even those who technically do not have the same amount of power toddlers do. Bowing at guards, nursemaids, and court members alike.

The boys are eventually escorted out by one of the maids, but not until they both tell Alicent about the flock of lizards they found in the garden. It’s sweet, Alicent thinks. Reminds her of when her kids were that age. Not yet tainted or disrupted by the life around them. Alicent supposes she also has herself to blame for that when it comes to own children.

Both boys not understanding the position their mother is in. She knows that Rhaenyra is grateful at least two of her kids are not aware of her vulnerable state.

“How are you feeling,” Alicent sits at the edge of the bed next to her, taking in scattering of notes around Rhaenyra. Members of Rhaenyra’s small council have written notes for Rhaenyra to read while she is abed. From things as simple as the mouse problem in the Red Keep to things more serious. Like the Shepherd’s continued teachings; this week sermon’s going as far to say the death of the Visenya was an act of the Gods. That this is Rhaenyra’s punishment. Punishment for the dragon, the incest, the Targaryen of it all.

Alicent makes sure to only visit Rhaenyra when she knows she will not run into Daemon. He flaunted around the castle as if he has never left. Still the same air of arrogance and fire, only now swathed under a layer of coolness. The passing of Viserys, clearly leading him in a quieter path.

So many awful things lead back to that man. Alicent is sure of it.

All Rhaenyra can do is give a small smile and the shake of the head.

“A bit better now that you’re here.”

Alicent just ducks her head shyly.

Rhaenyra was always good at that, making Alicent feel like she was a girl again. Ten and four and completely out of her depth when it came to her feelings. An issue she worries she still has not gained control over.

“I am thinking of naming Daemon protector of the realm,” she then croaks out. “I do not know how much I can get done while in this bed. Watching it all crumble beneath me.”

Naivety. It is the only word that comes Alicent’s mind when it comes to how Rhaenyra handles Daemon. Ironically, it is the same way Otto describes her relationship with Rhaenyra. Her father never forgets a chance the remind her the nostalgia of girlhood, and security she wraps in Rhaenyra. The same way Alicent does not know if Rhaenyra has convinced herself that Daemon’s will head her council above anyone’s else is her true feelings, is the same way Alicent does not know if she holds onto the good parts of Rhaenyra because they still exist. Or because without holding onto them, she would be again flailing and alone. Once again left with the cold, empty feelings that comes with duty above else.

The only person Alicent saw ever cut Daemon down to size is now dead, rotting and finally silent. If Rhaenyra thinks the bond, she had with Daemon is anything more than him trying to hold onto the last semblances of Viserys he could find, she has been sorely mistaken.

“Mayhaps, you should speak that over with the rest of your council,” she pushes the duvet further over Rhaenyra. It is not her job to advise. She doesn’t know if she has it in her advising another clueless monarch. Another seemingly well meaning, but headstrongly clueless monarch. Rhaenyra gets her same propriety from her father.

Rhaenyra is not a bad person. The same way many people would say Viserys was not a bad person. But when all things are said and done, Viserys will be remembered as peaceful. Alicent worries history will not give the same charitable read to Rhaenyra. Who fumbles and doubles down on her bad actions in the way she learned from her father. Terribly misguided in each path they take, paying no mind to the carnage left behind.

Too much trust in Daemon. A fault both will have to live with or die by.

“Everything will be fine, once I recover,” she takes note of Alicent’s distant eyes. “It will be alright.”

You look so much like your father when you lie to me. So much like him with false hope and no tact. They riot in the streets over your reign already, and you are sure it will be alright.

Alicent just squeezes Rhaenyra’s hand. The way she used to when she used to get the urge to pick at her hands. She looks around the room. Rhaenyra, now laying in the same bed her father did before her. Alicent just hopes the morbid memories of Viserys do not haunt her in the way Aemma’s ghost still haunts Alicent to this day.

Aemma was right, and they did not even know it at the time. The birthing bed was their battlefield. And it feels like it is all catching up to them.

It has been a few minutes since your parents welcomed you into their parents, and in those few minutes your mother has done nothing but pick at your hair and fret over your outfit.

The sun was at its height in the sky, brightness peaking through their windows. This morning you woke up, and did what have for the past couple of days. Remember your children are not there for you to kiss and hug, and look over at your sleeping husband. Multiple ways of smothering him popping into your head.

“Wearing your hair back makes you look so severe, my darling,” she fiddles with bun. Your hand goes up the move it way. “And grey is not slimming on everyone.”

“Yes mother,” you try to grin and bear like you have always done. Your resolve faltered when she gushed about how lovely of a father Aemond was for wanting the kids to spend more time with their uncle, the excuse the both of you had parroted whenever someone asked here Daella and Alaric were.

“I think it may be best, if both of you go back home,” you sit both of them down. “I just worry that things may get a bit hectic, and I would feel better if you both were far from it.”

They both give you a curious look. There is only so much you can say without giving all away. Your father gets up and pulls you to the side.

“There has been… rumblings,” he mutters. “About the Queen and her state.”

He chooses his words wisely. As if he was worried others are listening.

“I want you to know that whatever path may arrive. The full backing of the house is behind it. Your uncle and I will make sure of that. If there was a change in power.”

Tears pinch and sting your eyes. It should be reassuring but it only makes you realizing that backing comes at the whim of others. This will always come back to who is ruling, and who people think should rule.

That is why you married Aemond right? To be put in the best position for your house.

“Thank you, father.”

He kisses you on the cheek, before leaving. You turn towards your mother who sits on the bench in front of the bed.

“I do hope your little excursion has renewed your spirit,” she gets up. “Your husband seemed just beside himself after you left. No wife, no children around. I can only imagine how hard that was for him.” You just stand there as she comes towards you. She stares at you for a moment, taking in your new dark dress, and hair. You cannot tell if the look is unimpressed, or filled with sadness. Your mother’s faces tend to blur together into nothingness.

“Of course, that is what you took from it,” you mutter.

“What was that, lamb?” Another hand runs over your hair.

“Nothing, mother.”

Your mother laughs a bit, in that cold, jilted way she does. The joy never reaching her eyes.

“It’s always been that way. Sweet with him, distant with me.”

You stare at her in slight shock, slight mortification when she leans back. Is that how she’s read the situation? You choosing your father over her. Not the paralyzing fear that came with having to please her. The heart arching want to make her proud of you, even at the expense of your own wants.

“You made it that way. I - you sent me away to - to this place and -“

“Oh, here we go. You got married to a Prince, you had your babies, and I am still the evil mother.”

She bows her head as is she about to cry. Initiatively, you put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re not evil,” you don’t understand how the conversation how switcher so fast. How now you have to the one to comfort her. “We just don’t see certain things the same way.”

An understatement.

“Mayhaps, I was never meant to be a mother,” she looks up, eyes dry. She says it so casually.

“What?”

“I should have taken the hint after the first miscarriage. But your father just begged and begged about wanting a child.”

You just watch in horror.

She runs another hand over your hair, nagging on the bun and frowns.

“Some women just aren’t meant to be mothers. Too headstrong for it, too weak for it,” there is an air of pity when she says it.

She leans in, and her breath hits your ears. “Be careful, my lamb. The softer the heart, the harder the fall.”

You swallow hard. She’s fed a poison that is hard to be weaned off.

— — —

Leaving the room, in a slight daze. Softly shuffling the opposite way of your chambers, and up the large stairs. You had promised Rhaenyra you would come see her soon.

The only thing that breaks you out the trance is the heavy footsteps of Daemon. You stop and lower your head in acknowledgment.

“My prince, I have not been able to catch you to give my condolence.”

Daemon hums. You’ve noticed how he walks around with Dark Sister attached firmly on his hip. Sometimes sheathed, other times unsheathed as he leans against as some sort of crutch.

“I suppose I should be sending you sorrows too,” a small smile on his face. You tilt your head in confusion.

“Your children.”

Your blood runs a bit cold.

“They are just with their uncle. Taking it the beauty of Oldtown. We want them to see many parts of the realm.”

“With Vermithor?”

You just nod. “You must know how important the bond is between dragon and dragon rider. More importantly during these early stages.”

Daemon’s mirth grows as he comes closer. “I do remember our conversation. About how your loyalty would be not only expected but rewarded. I would absolutely hate to see anyone get hurt, especially as our queen is recovering.”

You smile, brightly and sound.

“Of course, it would be quite a shame if anyone was putting their own needs ahead of Queen Rhaenyra’s. Those close to her must be diligent, and kind.”

The two of you exchange more fake smiles before he steps around you, sword glistening under the flicker of flames in the hallway.

Trying to compose yourself as you make your way to the master chambers. You are slightly relieved by the changes that were made by the time Rhaenyra arrived and settled in. The model Viserys spent even his last days speaking about that collected dust had been removed. Different drapes that let the sun in, the furniture moved around a bit, and the smell. Thank Gods, the smell was different.

The smell of rotting, and noxious air replaced by something a little sweeter. You know that Alicent would come in daily and light different incense for Rhaenyra.

The guards let you in, and she is still in the same place she, day after day, the large canopy bed. The bed you see Viserys lay in as you visit him with Daella and or Alaric.

“Rhaenyra,” you pull back the certain a bit, to let light in. “Have you eaten today?”

You walk over and lay a hand on her forehead. She is burning up. Her fever spiking again. All you get is a groan and the shake of the head.

“Rhaenyra, you need to eat something.”

She just gestures toward the table. Different tonics, drinks, and glasses on top of it. You walk over to see tea as well as a familiar milky substance on it.

You remembered seeing how Viserys was when he was on milk of the poppy. Hells, you understood the strength of it, and you only took it while having Daella and Alaric.

It was the beauty and ugliness of the drug once it was taken too much. The pain was gone, but then came a new problem - the grogginess of the mind and withdrawals.

“The Queen only needs five dops of it,” said the maester, a sour look on his face once asked to leave when you visited her a few days ago.

In all her paranoia, Rhaenyra had asked only those closest to her to help administer it. Not trusting the maesters the very same way she did when it came to Viserys. Out of part guilt of what she just went through, and frankly fear, you agreed when she asked you. But now, as you feel the tides changing once again for the battle for power, your hands shake a bit applying the remedy to her tea.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five….. Six. Seven. Eight.

Before you can change your mind, you a twist cap back on the milk of the poppy.

You walk back to the bed, giving a pale Rhaenyra a strained smile. “Let’s sit you up.”

Rhaenyra winces, eyes in a faraway stare as you help her lean up in the bed. The same bed she had been beholden to for the past week. You bring goblet to her lips and watch her all but chug most of it.

A part of you wants to say a prayer to the Father. Perhaps he will forgive you for all that will happen beyond this point. Understanding how stray animals often act when they are backed into a corner. Teeth bared and fighting for their lives.

She will name him Protector of the Realm if she stays abed any longer. Despite the mistreatment, Daemon has always had a way about him when it came to Rhaenyra. I have no way to stop it. Did not back then, and do not now.

Guilt only mounts when you think about the sadness in Alicent’s eyes when she said that. But then you think about your daughter’s laugh or the wide-eyed innocence of your son, and the guilt fades. All that is left is resentment. A deep hole where you think your heart used to be.

You have to shudder thinking about anyone from this family sitting the throne but at least you know some options are more… malleable than others.

“I can come back to give you more when you need it,” you brush a stray hair behind Rhaenyra’s ear. “Maybe I can read to you too.”

She gives you a tired smile, and nod before her eyes begin to flutter. You watch as her breathing labors as she drifts into a hazy state. In and out of sleep. Here she lays, a victim of the birthing bed like her mother. Ill equipped, and far too foolish to see the damage she will leave behind like her father.

“What is all of this?”

You walk into your chambers to find a table of food in the room. Aemond hops up from the bed. You take a look at the array of breads, and sweets on the table.

“All this for me,” you question, popping one of the lemon candies on a lemon cake in your mouth. “How romantic. The last time I had the pleasure of such a spread, you were telling me you got your mistress pregnant and it sent me into excruciating labor.”

Aemond face falls, and for a moment you understand what it has been like for him the past few years of marriage. To hold power over him, even if it is small and fleeting in the moment. Dangling kindness in front of his face to rip it away for no reason other than you can.

You continue to pick at the food, as Aemond just stares.

“Are you gonna say what this all about or just stare with that silly look on your face?”

His face flashes from sad stoicism something a bit angrier. Ah, that’s your husband.

“I am trying to mend things with you, and all I ge-“

“Oh, that is your first mistake,” you hold up a finger. “Well, not the first. You know your first. But trying to mend something that was never there to begin with? And with food that I could get myself. You’re smarter than that Aemond,” you tut at him.

“So, what now? We spend the rest of our days hating each other?”

If we even get that far.

“It has worked for others,” you shrug.

“It won’t for you,” he rebuts. “The hate will eat you alive. You’ll be miserable.”

Promise?

He speaks as if he is so sure of it. As like Helaena does at times, he has seen into a murky future, and pulled this out. You utterly miserable as you let that dark voice in your head play out all your morbid desires.

“But you would like that, wouldn’t you,” you think about the look he gave you when you wanted to reach for his knife. “Why else would you put through all of this but to make me as miserable as you are?”

It hang on the tip of your tongue. You could push you luck again, and tell him that she is gone, and never to be seen again. Twist the knife that you already have point at his back. But then you would have to be sure of things yourself. Dreams have dissolved into nightmares. Blood mixing the salty water of Dragonstone.

Then you wake and Otto’s words ring in your head. He took care of it. Now you are left trying to sort out the mess of memories that makes up your head. Guilt, anger, and sadness all managing fuck with your head in ways you could not imagine.

You eye the wine on the table. As much you admonish Aegon for it, you do get why he turned to it from such a young age.

The few hours of solace it gives is wonderful. Fleeting but necessary when everything else becomes too loud. Too much.

“It was not an absence in you. It was one in us… in me,” he looks so young when he says it. It almost reminds you of him when he ten and five. Fresh off a growth spurt. Terribly shy, terribly distant. But that was before. Before the expectation of marriage, of children and semblances of loyalty and care.

That boy is gone, and you are surely not the girl you were once you came to King’s Landing. You mourn that girl, the way you mourn the boy Aemond was before he lost his eye. You did not know him then but you always wonder what strings in him broke when that happened. An unjust act with no reconciliation to follow. If any of that led up to the man standing before you today.

“Well, at least that is something we can agree on,” you look down, trying to get rid of the hot tears in your eyes.

You have spent time trying to build up an armor in front of him. You’d hate to have it crack now.

“My grandsire told me about your little plan.”

It makes you look up. Aemond’s arms are crossed in skepticism.

“Your sister’s health is declining rapidly. Aegon needs to ready himself for this.”

“And he has agreed?”

“Your brother will fall in line as he realizes this is the only way to keep those dear to him safe,” you fiddle with the chocolate tart. “He already has actually.”

Helaena and him took a trip to one of the orphanages down in the Red Keep. It is about time people outside of this castle get a look at those in power. Aemond still does not look convinced.

“Does that upset you? The thought of him being king?”

“No more than it does having my useless sister or foolish nuncle on the throne.”

“What, no mention of the bastards technically in front you for the throne right now,” you think the joke falls flat till Aemond narrows his eye, and tilts his head to side in merriment. You have to do a bit of double take at the slight smirk on his face.

“You danced with one of those bastards.”

So, he remembers that.

“A tactical move,” you roll your eyes. “And when I advise Rhaenyra and Jacaerys that he should go back to Dragonstone as the new heir to the Irone Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, it would have payed off.”

“Leaving Rhaenyra as she’s abed, and stuck with Daemon? How would you manage that?”

“I can be quite convincing,” you shrug. “Not that you would understand.”

He takes another dig on chin, uncharacteristically good natured this day, but he gives you that look. The look where you don’t know whether he wants to skin you or kiss you. No one really has ever looked in the way Aemond has. As if he sees nothing of what you’re really made of while managing to look right through you at the same time.

“Better yet, I may even tell Baela and Rhaena that they should take this time to be with grandmother and grandfather, especially as Corlys may stand a similar fate as Rhaenyra.”

“What about the other one,” Aemond frowns.

Your brows furrow in confusion before it dawns on you. Both him and Lucerys had done a good job of avoiding each other since you all came back from Dragonstone. But you can tell the tiptoeing has created strain and awkwardness for everyone.

“If Baela and Jace are gone with Moondancer and Vermax in toe, that just leaves a clearly petrified Luke and Arrax. I think Vhagar, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre can handle that, no?”

Aemond raises a brow. “You want them to die?”

“I don’t want anyone to die,” well that’s not entirely true, and the look Aemond gives you lets you in that he does not believe that as well. “As few casualties as possible is the goal. They can swear to Aegon when the time comes or be put the King’s Justice. As of now, we should take advantage of the uncertainty that rest amongst everyone.”

Aemond laughs, like really laughs. It takes you for surprise, and only upsets you. He laughs as if he finds your thoughts funny in the way seeing a squirrel run up a tree is funny. “What?”

“Nothing…. Lady Hightower.”

You scoff and throw the pieces of the fruit on the table at him. “Fuck off.”

“You make those faces and turn up your nose at Aegon being king, but you and I both know you will be the first to defend his throne,” you throw a strawberry at him but this time he catches it and eats it. “This is all for the kids, right? It is why they are not here, away from their mother?”

“They are away from their father as well. For their safety.”

You just hum.

“I want to write to them. They did not even get to say goodbye.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“I do not care, Aemond,” you raise your voice.

There is a knock at the door and Quinton comes in with a note in his hand. He eyes the food on the table as you read the note. It is from your father, assuring you about your parents soon departure back to the Riverlands.

“Are you alright,” he whispers. You nod softly. Quinton had been hovering somewhere in the background whenever Aemond was around, especially with the children gone. Clearly not trusting him around you.

Quinton should probably be more worried you around him. His cape swishes behind him when he goes to leave the room.

“You can write to them when the timing is better,” Aemond continues once you two are alone again.

The timing is never right. Not with him, not the with situation you are in.

The end of ninth moon of 129 AC

As you walk down the hall, a soft hand brushes against your arm.

“Are sure you are alright,” Quinton’s voice rings in your head, and tickles your ears softly.

“Of course,” you give fake smile, tilt of the head. He stops in the middle of the empty hall. Though he is your sworn protestor, you feel it is best to keep Quinton on the fringes unless needed otherwise. The less he knows, the safer he is you assume.

“I know you are not well without your children around,” he sighs. “But I would not want you to… sully yourself with things before you can get back to them.”

Sully. You take a long look at Quinton. There is something sweet about the way he views you. Entirely too earnest at time but sweet. You wish you could tell him he had nothing to worry about, and meant it. The pedastal he puts you on, my would it be a hard and long fall.

“I appreciate the concern, but I am ok,”’you reach up to touch his cheek. “You will be the first to know.”

He gives a half-hearted nod before then both of you continue your way to Rhaenyra’s chambers. When you get there the maidservants are beginning to place lights out in the hall for the night.

When you walk in, Rhaenyra is perched where she has been for some time now. Fiddling with the books on the shelf in the corner of the room.

“Maybe something a bit more upbeat. A love story,” you whisper. You go sit next to her on bed, flipping through the large brown book in your hand.

Rhaenyra begins to mumble as you shush her softly.

“It’s ok,” you reach over for the cup next to her bed. Sniffing the cup, you take note of how differently it smells compared to the tea and milk of the poppy mixture you used to.

The tonic seems different, stronger than usual. You put it to her lips and watch Rhaenyra drink it. You wipe her mouth. Even if this weakened state, you find her tragically beautiful. Like a fallen Angel. She resembles her siblings in that regard.

“I need - I need,” her eyes flutter open and shut. “The Prince that was Promised.”

You frown.

“Aeg- Aegon…”

“Your brother?”

“Tell Jacaerys.”

She trails off. Your back straightens as you watch as Rhaenyra’s eyes close, and her breathing slow.

The Prince that was Promised… Aegon.

You lean down and kiss her forehead. Mayhaps, in another life things could’ve been different for her. For her siblings, for her children, for you… for your kids. Climbing off the side of the bed, you gently tuck Rhaenyra in.

When you walk out, you see Quinton standing at attention. You motion for him to come with.

“I need you to do go get Otto,” you mummer. “We have business to get to.”

You cannot see the look Quinton gives you as move to walk ahead of him, and to that you are grateful.

Sullying is your only other option.

In the tenth moon 129 AC, the bell connected to the Royal Sept tolled for thee.

The death of Queen Rhaenyra, First of her Name, sent ripples through the Realm. But that was just beginning of the great strife that would follow her passing. A years peaceful period of reign for the Targaryen family ended by infighting.

Histories will say the first problem came the moment the then Princess and heir decided to sire bastard heirs. Others would say it began the moment, Rhaenyra left her succession vulnerable to her young brother. Not ending his line the moment she had the chance to.

Throughout her short reign as queen, there were festering rumors of usurping. That Lord Otto Hightower would hold secret meetings planning for the best moment to strike to get his grandson son on the throne. Others dispirited this claim, saying that the Dowager Queen Alicent’s afflictions for Queen Rhaenyra would never let that happen.

Ironically, it was not the death of the Rhaenyra is not the official start of what would later be called the Dance of Dragons. Instead the death of Prince’s Aemond One-Eye Targaryen’s lady wife’s parents triggered the domino affect. An escalation of plans.

Most would say the overflipped carriage was a tragic accident, but others whispered about something more serious. An inside attack from a member of the Targaryen family themselves. It was this tragedy that led to a public outcry from the members of the house in the Riverlands, coupling with the public crowning of a new king.

It was Ser Criston Cole, member of the Kingsguard, who crowed King Aegon, Second of his Name, in a private ceremony. Only flanked by his new crowned Queen Helaena, Prince Aemond and his wife, and Lord Hightower. King Aegon was crowned in front of the septon of faith, dawning his namesakes crown.

Back on Dragonstone, Jacaerys Velaryon recieved the news of not only his mother’s death, but also the usurping. Except it was not allies with the news, but foes. Jacaerys was slain at the footsteps of the castle.

It is still debated which side has more to gain to having Jace out of the way. King Aegon or Prince Daemon. But in the end, it was the later who eventually set up him home base at Dragonstone. Fleeing under the watchful eye of his spies in the Red Keep. With only two of his sons with him.

Both sides strategizing their moves. Daemon labeling Aegon and his supporters traitors to the realm, while Aegon set out to kill his uncle himself in given the chance. Under the insistence that it was him who accerlated Rhaenyra’s already bad condition.

Support the amongst the realm split as some supporter the efforts of the new king, far more open to his tactics than one of the Rogue Prince or Rhaenyra’s Bastards. While others scoffed at the boldness of Aegon the Usurper.

Those called on the opinions of the sons that remained at King’s Landing. Rumors of the Lucerys and Joffrey Velaryon being chained arriving. But it was not Daemon who negotiated the release of the boys. It was members of House Velaryon.

But there was one condition. It would be Baela and Rhaena, of both House Targaryen and Velaryon, that recieved equal titles after the passing of Corlys. Lucerys would be stripped of title of heir to the Driftmark Throne. It was rumored that this was not a cruel twist of fate from team green, but instead a plea from Lucerys himself.

It was Rhaena Targaryen, in all her wisdom, that worked through the terms. With a heavy heart, and no more bloodshed in her pleas. The more bold sister of the twins, Baela, had other plans. Sensing the release of Lucerys and Joffrey was a trap. She climbed on top of Moondancer, despite the calls not, and made her way closer to King’s Landing herself. But she was not alone. Her grandmother was with her.

Never one to sit from a battle himself, it was King Aegon who climbed his dragon to take them both on. All three dragon and riders fought diligently. Moondancer sustaining life ending injuries, while both Sunfyre and Aegon were injured at battle. But the most costly lost came at the hand of the One-Eyed Prince himself. Taking out Rhaenys and Meleys before further injury could come to his brother.

Enraged at the news of the death of Moondancer, and the almost costly lost of Baela, Daemon began his March. But he also had other plans at play. In efforts to lure the new Prince Regent out of the castle, he sent spies to Oldtown. Where not only Prince Daeron worked with all of Reach to support King Aegon. But also where the young Prince watched over his younger nieces and nephews.

There was an attempt to take the Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Aegon and Alaric Targaryen, son of Aemond. But the plan was thwarted by a terrible beast. Vermithor lurched and lured over Oldtown like a tower himself. His flames as green as the Hightower Beacon. Highly protective over his new rider and those close to her. At just six and seventh month, Daella Targaryen was feared as her father.

Still not wanting to be outdone, Daemon sets his sights towards not only Harrenhal, but another certain house in the Riverlands. His march pillaging those close to Aemond’s wife. Still grieving the lost of parents and seperated from her children, it was rumored the lady became more quiet, drowning herself in her cups.

It was she, with Queen Mother Alicent and Queen Helaena, who pleaded for Aemond to not take the bait. But it was too no vail. After he heard of the attempted kidnapping, he set out with men of his own.

His march mirroring his uncle’s not only through the Stormlands but as well as the Riverlands. There were whispers of inhabitants at Harrenhal. It is still speculated by both Daemon and Aemond did not burn the structure to the ground, when they had to chance. Tales would be written of a certain magic soiling the ground. Keeping safe from harm.

Though those tales are all rumors, what was undeniably true, is that two Targaryen princes breathed their last breaths over God’s Eye on the sixth moon of 130 AC. No one saw the battle, but the sound of snapping dragons and the sight of green and red flames that called attention.

Vhagar and Aemond both fought a valiant effort but it the wounds to both proved to be to substantial. Aemond Targaryen died on top of his crowned dragon. The burns from Vhagar burning Daemon beyond repair.

When their deaths made it back to the Red Keep, the halls recount the Queen Mother tearing her hair in anguish, calling for the deaths of not only everyone who supported Daemon, but Aegon the younger and Viserys alike.

A story of crowns and iron thrones whittled down to death and fire. The grief felt by team green only compounded by the body of Aemond’s lady wife found charred in their chambers. It was Ser Quinton, her sworn protector, who lived to tell the story of having to fight off several guards before it was too late. In a matter of days, Daella and Alaric Targaryen missing from their places in Oldtown.

Both jobs speculated to be last minute plans carried about for Daemon Targaryen, done by his loyal Gold Cloaks. It is said that King Aegon never fully recovers from the death of not only his brother, but his good sister. Punishing those he deems responsible once he comes to.

But there are merchants in Essos that believe they have spotted a beautiful lady hand in hand with her children. One with sparkling white hair, the other with blonde streaks through her dark curls.

taglist:  @florent1s @floraroselaughter @afro-hispwriter @snh96@holy-minseok @voniikg @evienorville @tremendouswolfsaladranch @crispmarshmallow @strawbrryquinn @widemiffyhappy @msmarvel-19 @dc-marvel-girl96 @xkennobi @fanfics4ever@hydrationqueensworld @lyra689 @blazzlynch @httyd-marauders@bregarc @b00kdiary @grey-water-colors @mercedesdecorazon@flowerpotmage @bstorn @poisonedsultana @papery-maniac @its-sam-allgood @yu3kkii @hvx @leoramage @neenieweenie@stargaryenx @rey26 @lazypinkpig @blackravena @s0urmarvel@elleclairez @rebelfleur22 @inpraizeof @luvremlu @clora95@blacpiink @let-love-bleeds-red @iwanttohitmyself @alastorhazbin@kitkat-writes-stuff @carrielle @aloneatpeace @ensolleildelune@landlockedmermaid77 @deadunicorn59

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Love’s treasure; Kili x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so this has been sitting in my inbox for awhile but I finally got the inspiration and time to do this fic after getting the boost from another Kili and Fili request as well as my Celestial story.  So @sweetpeapod​ thank you for your patience and hope you see this fic and enjoy it as much as I did writing it these past couple days.

Synopsis: Reader is Aragorn’s older cousin (I imagine by 11 years so she’s about 21). Gandalf knew of her skills as a Ranger for both tracking and navigating and sought her out to be apart of the company.

NO WARNINGS REALLY JUST SOME FLUFF and a bit of angst from parental death/abandonment. 

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@queen-paladin​

@queensdivas​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@gay-and-ready-to-cry​

________________________________________________________

I observed the dark blue bead in my hand and pondered just how it had gotten lost.  It was a game I’ve always like to play, anytime I would find a lost object or weapon I’d always come up with a good story on why it got lost and whether or not the owner of said object is out there scouring Middle Earth for it’s safe return.

“What are you up to sister?” I looked up and peeking from behind the Elvish statue was my baby cousin Aragorn, or better known for his safety Estel.  Yes, Aragorn the future king of Men is in fact my cousin on his mother’s side (she is my father’s younger sister).

“I thought you were to be in your studies with Lindir? He’s taken a great deal of time and effort to educate you little one.” I lectured him with a raised brow as he came and sat down beside me on the bench.

“But I already know of the founding of Rivendell and how to speak Elvish.”

“Then tell me who was the mentor of Lord Elrond?” I replied in Elvish.  He looked at me puzzled before he crossed his arms pouting.

“I don’t like you no more.”

“Oh yeah not the first time you’ve said that to me. Or the time after that or the time after that.” I playfully reprimanded him lowering my voice to as deep of a baritone as I could muster while tickling his sides making his squirm and laugh.  “What was that you were looking at earlier?”

“What? You mean this?” I said picking up the bead.  He looked at it with curious eyes and asked me.

“Where did it come from?”

“Why don’t you answer that question. Where do you believe this bead came from cousin?” he stared at the bead, pondering over it.  His tongue slightly peeking out from his lips as he said.

“I believe…..this bead came from some merchants who were on their way to the Blue Mountains when suddenly trolls from the North ambushed them and gobbled them all up, leaving only this bead.”

“Goodness child! You really believe such a cruel fate came to innocent merchants?” he nodded.  “Alright, then I’m going to have to speak with Elladan about changing your bedtime stories.”

“No please (Y/n). He tells the best stories don’t make him stop!” I smirked softly and said as I ruffled his head.

“Very well Estel. Now care to help me braid this into my hair?” he nodded as I sat down onto the floor so that he could properly braid my hair before putting the bead on it.

“Where do you think this bead came from sister?” he asked me.

“Well little one I’ve been putting a lot of thought into it. And I think this bead might hold more meaning than meets the eye. I believe this bead was once part of a Prince’s clothing ensemble. My story is that he fell in love with a woman but wished to give her not gold or jewels for her hand, but something more meaningful to him. So he took this bead from his clothing to present to his love. However, when he went to present his gift to his love, he had overheard of his love being taken by orcs while she was out for a ride on her horse. In his haste, he dropped the bead hoping to rescue his love in time.”

“And did he? Did he ever save his true love?” Estel asked me as he paused in mid-braid.

“I’d like to say they did. And the two of them are living together in the comforts of their newly built home hoping to raise a family together.” We both turned around and there stood Kili.

“Prince Kili!” exclaimed Estel as he raced over to the young dwarf prince.  Kili smiled at my cousin and ruffled his head playfully before greeting him.

“Hello there Estel, being good for your cousin I see?”

“(Y/n) was telling me of a bead she found while out on your travels.”

“So I overheard. Hope it’s alright if I added a small opinion to your story.” He said turning to me.

“I’m always open to new suggestions. I tend to leave mine in a mist of mystery. Drives this little one nuts.”

“She never seems to want to finish the story with her trinkets and earnings.” He whined.

“One day lad you’ll see that sometimes it’s better when things are left to the imagination, instead of always having a one-sided ending.” Kili said to Estel.

“And speaking of story endings, it’s best that you get back to your studies with Lindir. He’s probably already alerted Lord Elrond of your skipping’s. And you know how Lord Elrond is that you keep up with your studies.”

“Aww! But Kili only just arrived.” Estel whined.

“Tell you what lad, you head back and finish your studies. Then once you’re done, meet me and my brother in the training grounds and we’ll teach you how we Dwarves battle off orcs and goblins.”

“Can I sister please?!” Estel begged me clasping his hands together and looking up at me with those bright blue eyes of his.

“If your mother and Lord Elrond say it’s alright.” Estel cheered before racing off and bidding us goodbye.  I playfully shook my head, “I swear that child is more like a rabbit than a boy. Always full of energy and on the move.”

“Ahhh let him enjoy it. He is young, soon he’s going to grow and lose that sense of wonder and joy once he gets out into the real world.”

“You didn’t.” I teased as Kili gawked and softly laughed.

“True, but there are times where I wish I could go back to the days of my childhood. Me and Fili battling out against dragons and orcs and winning without any consequence of the outcome.” I nodded in agreement.  “So what was the bead that you and your cousin were discussing the origins of?” I then showed Kili the strand that Estel had braided for me which held the dark blue bead in my hair.

“I had found it just shortly before we had a run in with those trolls. Saw it hidden just beside a small patch of rocks. Figured it was worth keeping rather than letting it be forgotten amongst Yavanna’s earth.” When I turned to Kili I saw that his eyes were widened and his jaw seemed tense.  “Kili? Kili?”

“Huh? What sorry I-I was…..I have to go.” Suddenly he turned his back and hastily left the garden. My head tilted confused as to why he had left so sudden without another word? I shrugged before sitting back down to admire the bead.

*Kili’s POV*

She had my bead. (Y/n) had my family bead, not only did she have it but she was wearing it. Could-could it mean? No that’s impossible! There’s no way a Ranger of the North could fall for someone like me? But then why would she place my bead into her hair and have it braided?

“…..li? Oi Kili!” I snapped out of my daze to see Fili and Bofur standing before me in what appeared to be a den area of the Elvish realm.  All over the place there were beds and wooden furniture carved to perfection.

“You looked about as lost as a lamb there lad, everything alright?” asked Bofur.

“I—well I’m beginning to question that myself.”

“What is it Kili? You’re not ill are you?”

“No Fili, well not in the normal sense of illness.”

“Ahh-hahaha I think I know.” Bofur said.  “You, Kili, have fallen under the sickness of love. And I think I know just who it is that has caught your affections.” Bofur wiggled his brow towards my brother as I let out a groan.

“It’s not like that!”

“So you don’t have feelings for (Y/n)?” asked Fili.  I did a double take towards my brother and said to him.

“Wait you—you knew?”

“Your my brother Kili. You may have always been a flirt back home but never before have I seen you act around a woman the way you do with (Y/n).” I felt my face heat up as I said to them.

“It’s not just that.” They both looked at me perplexed.  “Remember how I had told you Fili that I had lost one of my beads that mother gave me?” my brother nodded.  “It turns out (Y/n) had found it. Not only that but after just recently talking with her, I had seen that she had braided it into her hair.”

At that confession, they both began to understand the gravity of the situation.

“Surely she must not know what it means to us. I mean you see a bead and the first thought is to braid it into your hair. Surely she can’t know what it means to us, does she?” I asked nervously.

“I wouldn’t be knowing Kili, but if I am honest with yah, I think she might feel the same about you.” Bofur said.

“How would you know Bofur?” I snapped.

“You may not know it laddie, but that lass will look at you when she knows you’re not looking. And I see the same loving look in her eyes that you give to her.”

“You’re jesting Bofur. There’s no way she looks at me like that!”

“I wouldn’t be too sure brother.” Fili said.  I turned to him as he continued, “Remember back with the trolls? When they were going to put you onto the spit, (Y/n) fought to take your place.”

“But wasn’t that because we’re part of the same company? She’s just looking out for us. That’s her nature. Her kind, caring, motherly nature.” I trailed off as I felt my heart skip a beat.

“All I’m saying brother is maybe you should talk to her.”

“And how should I start it off? How about saying something like, ‘Greetings (Y/n), you know the bead you’ve got in your hair in that braid? It’s actually my family bead and by braiding it into your hair you’ve agreed to be my wife. Will you marry me?’ No.” I scoffed the last part.  “I can’t force that onto her.”

“I’m not saying lead on with that. But maybe just talk to her and see if there is any mutual feelings between the two of you. If there is, you’ll finally be happy with her. If not, then at least you’ll have your answer.”

“And if it is a rejection that comes my way? How do you expect me to cope with it? She’ll never look at me the same way again.”

“Even if she does reject your affections Kili, I doubt (Y/n) is the kind of person to make whatever bond she makes feel inferior to how it was before. But like your brother said laddie, you’ll never know unless you talk to her.” Bofur said.

I looked at the two of them, took a deep breath and thanked them for the advice before I left to go find (Y/n) before it grew dark.

*1ST Person POV*

I was at the training grounds with my bow and arrow hoping to get in some last minute training before I would retire for the night.  I notched an arrow onto the bowstring, pulled it back, took a breath before steadying my hand and let the arrow fly.  It hit dead center and I notched another arrow into the bow before releasing that and it hit the center as well as splitting the arrow.

“Ahh, when did you learn to do that?” I turned to see Kili looking between me and the target in amazement.

“When I was a little girl, when I refused to believe that a bow was just something my aunt would tie to my curly locks.” I said notching another arrow into my bow and fired it at the target splitting the other two arrows.  “My uncle agreed. He said learning to fight was essential whether you wore a dress or trousers. He was the wisest man I ever knew.”

“Wish my kin were as supportive at first when I had wish to take the bow and arrow as my main weapon of choice.”

“Thing was he wasn’t just supportive. My uncle he—he was the only father figure I ever had after my own dad walked out on my mother. After she was killed by orcs, my aunt took me in. He took me aside one early morning, taught me everything I know about fighting and said to me, ‘(Y/n), my little raven. If you remember what you’re fighting for you’ll never miss your target’.” I said remember my uncle Arathorn as a good man.

He was not only a good leader to the Rangers up in the North, but he was a loving man who loved his wife.  And loved a child that was not his own blood as a father should.  Raised her, taught her to fight but also keep a level head. I only wish that Aragorn had the same opportunity to bond with his father as I did.

“He sounds like a good man.” Kili told me solemnly.

“Aye. He was.” I said clasping the necklace he gave me a year after being adopted into the family. It’s not much just a simple silver chain with a raven in flight pendant on it but it’s so special to me and never once have I taken it off.

“Is that why you like collecting small objects?” he asked me.  I smiled solemnly and nodded.

“When I was a child and would go with him on patrols, most of the Rangers tired of how I would stop them to find a loose button or a smooth pebble perfect for skipping across the river. But never my uncle, in fact he always encouraged me to keep at it. Said that I’d never know when I might find the greatest treasure of them all.”

We sat there in a comfortable silence for a brief moment (although it felt like an eternity) until Kili finally spoke up.

“I uhh…..” he trailed off softly.  “I think you might’ve missed the target.” I looked at him confused before turning to the target where my split arrows were.  “No not….” He softly chuckled, “I meant with your story. The one you told your cousin about. For the bead.”

“Did I?” he softly nodded but he refused to look me directly in the eye.  “Care to elaborate your theory of this bead?”

“Well it’s not much different from yours. Just some minor details changed. The bead did in fact belong to a prince. But the bead was a part of his family’s heirloom, one that would be meant for a future courting. However, while out on a quest, he had realized that he had lost it. He searched and searched but could not find the bead anywhere. The Prince was heartbroken, not only of the fact he had lost his family bead, but that one day he had hoped to give it to the woman he loves was now gone. Then a few days after the start of his quest, he soon finds the woman he loves wearing his bead into her braided hair.”

He fiddled with his hands before finally looking up at me, his eyes holding both a loving gaze but also a hint of fear and insecurity.  I then watched as his eyes soon turned to look at my braid.  I lifted it up and stared at the bead only for my heart to stop and my stomach sink.

Wait…..could he mean—

“You don’t have to say anything. I won’t force you plus you did not know that braiding a Dwarf’s family bead means you accept a courtship with me. I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks now but I cannot deny my feelings any longer. (Y/n), I……” I stopped his rambling by bestowing a small kiss to his cheek.

“My heart feels the same way Kili.” His eyes widened with surprise looked at me and from his stubbled face I could see the faintest hint of a blush.

“Really?”

“Really, really.” I said with a warm smile.  A bright smile soon started to show itself on his face as he took my hands into his and bestowed a sweet kiss to the back of my knuckles.

“Mahal’s beard my—my heart is pounding more harder than Aulë slamming his axe upon a mountain of stone.”

“And the very breath within me feels like it has been sucked away.” I said to him.

“Is this what finding my One feels like? If it is, I never want it to go away. Nor do I wish to see you go.”

“I may not know the concept of your One, but if it’s anything to what we call soulmates then yes. I saw it every day with my aunt and uncle before his death. They held the purest form of true love I had only ever read in story books. But never did I hope to experience such a love.”

“Best get used to it amrâlimê, because I will spend every hour of my wakened days giving all my love to you.” I knelt down beside him and cupped the side of his face, brushing away the dark strands of his hair as I felt his hand gently cup my jawline as our forehead softly touched one another’s.

Our noses slowly grazing across the other’s like wind in the grass until finally our lips became one and we gifted our devoted love for each other through each kiss and stolen baited breath.

[all-my-writings-and-musings]

For those of you who are new to this, I have predone writing prompts and you can request which character to see in them next, and I'll write a short story for it following your specifications! I've done another one like this for Sun Wukong. I have another prompt that involves the reader falling and needing rescue,which so far I've done for Ne Zha, Yin, and Macaque. If you like either of those and want to see a specific character next, or have an idea of your own, you can request stories or headcanons in my inbox! I already have a few in there I cannot wait to get to!!

Sleepy Prompt

After pushing themselves too hard for too long, the reader still refuses to sleep, resulting in the character who's crushing on them stepping in to force them to get some rest.

Macaque x Reader

"The reader has been struggling with a myriad of demands including their job, and simply can't say no to any of their many obligations, resulting in Macaque enforcing a self care day when they meet nearby his Dojo."

It had been silly of you to expect anything to turn out in your favor, but you still felt the sting of disappointment when your boss's notification popped up on your phone, demanding your immediate arrival on what was supposed to be a day off.

Shoulders slumping from more than just weariness, you tried not to think about how hard it would be to stay awake for a solid eight hours as you changed course on the empty sidewalk. The impromptu visit you'd been hoping for was shot; you just had to wait for next week and hope that day wouldn't be stolen too. The sun rising over the roof of the Dojo at your back made your heart sink with painful want. There was so little in your world that made you happy, it seemed almost purposefully cruel of fate to deny you time with your only friend.

Getting a move on so as not to be weighed down by your sadness or exhaustion, you tried to walk quickly to wake yourself up. Between the overtime and the total lack of breaks, your body was suffering just as much as your social life, making every step that much harder. It would be a miracle if you didn't doze off before your shift was over. Knowing your boss, he'd probably kick up a fuss over you looking less than enthused to be working on three hours of sleep…

A most unexpected rush of wind tousled your hair, and before you could fix it another breeze sent it whooshing in the other direction, followed by another after that in an unnatural whiplash. Your sleep deprived brain briefly panicked about losing its grip on reality before a magical and familiar glow caught your eye.

"You know, when I saw my favorite human outside my front door, I was expecting a visit." Macaque teased as he materialized from the thin shadow of a streetlight, walking as if he'd merely stepped in from another room. The portal he'd summoned to surprise you faded into nothingness as he leveled his playful gaze on you. Even if he was obviously playing around, your heart twisted with guilt to think he'd seen you and been anticipating your visit, unannounced as it had been. It was bad enough you'd had to cancel, now you had to share that disappointment.

Still smirking but losing some of the playfulness as he beheld your absolutely miserable expression, he righted your tousled hair with a tiny and almost apologetic breeze, but continued to be far from serious. "I'm crushed! What's the matter, can't spare a minute for your favorite monkey?"

"Oh, I didn't realize-!" you began in an apology, not wanting him to think you'd ever pass up the chance to spend time with him. Goodness, looking forward to the small amount of time you got to spend with him was what kept you going… Realizing that every minute counted, you changed the topic and started to walk and talk, encouraging him to follow for the brief explanation you hoped would be sufficient. "Sorry! My boss needs me to pull another shift. I've got to hurry or else I'll be late."

Macaque tilted his head and lost a fraction of his smirk, but was genuinely perplexed as opposed to displeased, walking at your side with his arms folded behind his back. "Late on your day off?"

"It's not my day off anymore…" you sighed, the weight of it all hitting you anew. Being awake for this long was already pushing it, you had no idea how you were going to make it through your shift, but you also had no choice. You were struggling to make ends meet and money was, unfortunately, not something you could afford to turn down.

"Hmm." Macaque hummed in apparent thought. An apologetic goodbye was set to leave your lips before he unexpectedly kept the conversation going, stepping in front of you to stop you in your tracks. Golden eyes looked you over from top to bottom as he arched a brow incredulously. You wilted a little under his gaze, fully convinced he'd be disappointed in your lack of time for him. A hand under your chin tilted your downturned gaze up to meet his. Those same eyes held something you didn't have the energy to decipher. "When did you last get a day off? Or a night off, for that matter?"

"I don't have the time." you replied automatically, not wanting him to worry even if it was hard to resist dozing off in his palm. While his concern was appreciated, you didn't want him wasting energy on such trivial mortal things, especially when they didn't involve him. Being a burden was a fantastic way to lose friends. All you could do was get to work and endure the shift, there was no arguing your way out of all the bills you had due. Looking up at him with your exhausted eyes, you tried to convey some small measure of reassurance. "Besides, it's nothing I can't handle."

Releasing your chin, he appeared to concede before chuckling softly. A snap of his fingers summoned a portal in the time it took for you to blink, and before you even had a chance to step back he was pushing you inside. "What a coincidence! I can handle it too, and here's how!"

A mattress met your face after a short fall, leaving you sputtering and knocking aside a tangle of pillows and blankets that ensnared you like a spider's web. Able to recognize the inside of the Dojo, you looked about in total bewilderment before realizing he'd dropped you on his mess of a bed. Anxiety only poverty could bring made the experience far from enjoyable. Good gracious, you didn't have time for this! 

"Macaque, hey!" you shouted as he followed you and dropped smoothly to the floor, closing the portal with a calm smirk that stretched from ear to ear. Motivated by fears of late rent and your boss's fury, you wrestled yourself free from his messy nest of a bed, stopping only to catch your breath when the little bit of exercise proved too much. Desperately trying to ignore how tempted you were to just go limp and sleep, you swung your shaking legs about to settle them on the floor. There was simply no time for games, or rest, or fun of any kind in your life, no matter how much you wanted it. There had to be a way to make him understand without pushing him away. "I don't have time for this, I need-"

A hand gripped your shoulder firmly but gently, refusing to let you stand. Caught off guard by how serious he became in what felt like the blink of an eye, you offered no resistance as his golden eyes looked deep into yours, his voice more level and genuine than most would have known he was capable of as he finished your sentence. 

"Sleep."

You almost crumpled into him, wanting so badly to comply it brought tears to your eyes. A million worries buzzed about your mind like a swarm of bees, needling you with all of the terrible things that might happen if you lost your job. You had worked so hard just to make it this far on your own, and failing would destroy more than your progress. Your heart couldn't endure another setback on this journey to some kind of stability. "Not as much as I need to pay rent…"

Macaque didn't release your shoulder, and his expression didn't relent in the slightest. If anything, he appeared more intent than ever upon beholding your obvious desperation, though he was as gentle as could be as he pushed you down onto the mattress. You almost shed a few tears as your back met the nest of plush blankets and pillows, your body crying out for the rest you knew deep down it needed but couldn't have. Before you could find the words to argue, he broke the silence.

"You just lay your head down and let someone else do some worrying for a change." he encouraged, your resistance crumbling despite the consequences. This was what you wanted more than anything in the world right now, but even with the weight of absolute exhaustion on your shoulders your fears were too strong to simply ignore. Beholding your despondent expression, he huffed and grabbed one of many spare blankets to toss over you. "Seriously, I'll take care of your boss, alright? You focus on getting some sleep. I can see how bad you need it."

Were you more awake and coherent, you might have had an easier time following along with what he was trying to convey without words, but you were far too twisted up in worry and exhaustion to understand. Not even the blanket over your body or the throbbing of your head could cut through the fog.

"But if I don't-"

"That sounds an awful lot like worrying, Y/N." Macaque retorted, final attempt at being playful fading when he saw the total dejection on your face. Looking aside, he frowned and seemed to battle with something inside himself before huffing and giving in. Dropping the act he wore around almost everyone, he gingerly adjusted the blanket over you to be more comfortable and leaned in, speaking privately as if the two of you might be overhead. "Do you remember what I told you? That as long as I'm here, you don't need to worry? I meant that."

It finally clicked in your mind, like a key turning a formerly jammed lock; you didn't have to worry because he would be there. In his own impossibly repressed way, the Six-Eared Macaque was telling you he'd take care of you. Even if you lost your job, your apartment, all the little things you'd clawed for and thought you needed… he would be there to support you. 

"Thank you…" was all you could say, a few hot tears soaking the pillow beneath your head before he wiped them away with a blanket. Clearing his throat, he jumped back into the persona you knew so well, smiling as he ensured you were set up to his satisfaction. 

"Don't thank me yet, I'm a terrible roommate." he joked, cementing that you had a place with him. Considering how you'd more than likely be fired either for missing this shift or whatever Macaque was about to do to your manager, that would undoubtedly be happening sooner rather than later. The idea didn't frighten you in the least. If anything, he'd just removed a burden so great all your body cared to do was rest. You went absolutely limp on the bed, its comfort seeping into you like a warm embrace as sleep took you more rapidly than you knew it was capable of. 

Just before unconsciousness took you, the lights were switched off, and a gentle hand seemed to brush your temple as a careful voice whispered with some uncertainty. "If you need me, you, uh, know where I'll be."

[nagipops]

Hello!Can I request Giyuu x wind hashira reader who is very kind and compassionate to others (even demons).She’s also a doctor who’s amazing at concocting a medicine ( just like Shinobu) and she’s also Giyuu’s best friend ( She always protect him from Shinobu insults).Thank you very much,feel free to write this if you’re comfortable❣️.Also Sanemi and Shinobu are like her real brother and sister💖)Love ya~Have a great day~💕

FEATHERLIGHT

FEATURING: giyuu tomioka!

SUMMARY: in which your reward after a poignant battle becomes your new motivation.

WARNINGS: blood/gore tw, fem!reader

A/N: loved this prompt! my apologies for this being so late; it got buried in my inbox :( thank you for being so patient, this was incredibly fun to write!

"Ara ara, Tomioka-san," your sister's lilting voice sounded from behind you as the familiar scent of flora enveloped your senses. "Having some fun with my little butterfly again, aren't you?"

"Tch." Giyuu's cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink as he swiftly dropped your arm from his grip.

Whirling around to face your sister with a scowl, you cried, "Shinobu! We were just practicing sparring, don't get any ideas!" You could feel your face begin to heat up at your teasing sister.

"Mmm," she raised an eyebrow inquisitively before poking your cheek with a slender finger. "Maybe you should get to work concocting a love potion for a certain someone..."

"That's enough," Giyuu muttered, grabbing a hold of your arm once again. "Come on, let's go practice somewhere with less Shinobu-ing and more room to spar." He cast a murderous glance over your shoulder at your older sister who was innocently waving at the two of you with the sweetest smile on her face.

You gave an exasperated sigh as your best friend dragged you out of earshot from your teasing sister. "Sorry about that, Giyuu, she really is insufferable, isn't she?"

"I'm just lucky you didn't get the same personality as her," he mumbled from up ahead as you navigated through tangled branches and boulders. “Her teasing is relentless.” Although his straightforward words must not have meant much to him, who always says what he truly thinks, they warmed your heart. You made him feel lucky.

“She’s only kidding, you know. She only teases people she really loves.” Taking a deep breath of the cool forest air, you recalled the countless times your older sister had been there for you, training you to create antidotes for all sorts of poisons, fighting off demons for you during perilous missions, and teaching you that the best way to get through a tough situation is to have a smile on your face.

She really did love you, more than anyone you knew. And you returned that love for your only sister.

All of a sudden, the raucous, persistent cawing of a crow circling above interrupted your nostalgic thoughts.

You immediately extended an arm, creating a perch for your Kasugai crow to land on. “What is it, Jiyu?” You soothingly stroked the ebony bird’s soft feathers, receiving grateful beady eyes in return.

“Caw! Sightings of demons reported in the forest in the South! Forest of the South! Wind and Water Hashira, report to the area immediately! Caw!” the crow screeched, tensing its sharp claws on your arm for a second before swiftly darting off into the sky.

You locked eyes with Giyuu, giving him a determined nod before dashing off to the forest in the South.

“There,” Giyuu whispered harshly, directing your gaze to the hulking demon less than ten meters away from you. The two of you were concealed behind a thick tree trunk as you scouted out the clearing, watching as the gigantic monster trundled around the glade.

A bloodcurdling shriek pierced through the air just then, instantaneously cutting off as soon as it sounded. You exchanged a look of horror with your blue-eyed partner, a pool of dread forming in your stomach.

A human life lost...

Heart aching, you sent a quick silent prayer to the gods above.

So many of those screams you have heard, so many lives lost to those demons. Those demons who are forced to live such a cruel, hatred-filled life.

Steeling yourself, you and Giyuu stealthily wove through trees and branches, nearing closer and closer to the demon ahead of you.

Their terror must end here.

The grotesque creature was no more than twelve feet away from you, snarling vilely as it searched the area for any humans. Laying in a bloody heap near its feet was the tiny body of a girl who couldn't have been older than six or seven years old. Stinging tears threatened to spill from your sorrowful eyes as you realized that could have been you many years ago had your siblings not rescued you from that demon.

Demons-- humans, just like you and Giyuu, who were forced to suffer the consequences of heir own unlucky fate. You became a pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps in order to help free these misunderstood creatures from their agony, and reunite them with their lost past. But their sins as demons could not go overlooked.

"Tomioka-san," you whispered to your best friend who was eyeing the drooling monster in front of you, hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sheathed sword. "You take care of the demon, I'll retrieve the girl and see if her life can be salvaged. Understood?"

He only nodded curtly in response, swiftly unsheathing his hefty blade with no more than a minute clink before teleporting to a lofty nearby branch. You remained hidden behind the thick tree trunk, watching Giyuu's fingers closely for a sign to commence the operation.

Giyuu tended to strike from behind with the advantage of the element of surprise, so you watched and waited for the demon's back to turn to him, flipping through your various concoctions stored in the tiny bag on your hip.

You waited, and waited, and waited...

Giyuu's thumb straightened out.

Immediately you were on top of the girl, analyzing all of her vitals and arriving at a diagnosis in a split second: she was still alive.

Injecting serum after serum and stitching up open wounds as the metallic clinks and crashes of battle surrounded you, you snuck glances at how your best friend was faring in combat. The demon appeared to be a formidable opponent, as it wasn't decaying into ashes just yet.

You felt trembling movement from underneath your steady hands.

"Gh..." A bubble of blood spurted from the tiny girl's crusted lips. Retrieving a vial of hydration from your pouch, you quickly wiped off her mouth and held it open as you poured in the refreshing liquid.

"Hello there, thank you for being strong." You hovered over your wounded patient, smiling softly. "I am the wind hashira, and we're here to exterminate the demon that hurt you. You're going to recover in no time, alright?"

The child squinted painfully at you, attempting to reorient herself in her unfamiliar surroundings. "Wh... where am I? Where’s my older brother?”

"The forest in the South." The sun was beginning to rise, but it was too dangerous to leave the injured victim out in the open clearing. “Your brother is…”

A wounded cry rung through the air just then, snapping your attention to the fight a few feet away from you. Your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach as you saw Giyuu's haori stained in fresh blood, pooling from his chest. He was staggering about, body heaving from the effort to control his breathing as he stared down the demon with venomous eyes. The creature only responded with a warbled cackle as he lunged for your best friend once again.

And you were on top of it in an instant, slicing the wisteria-injected needle-like tip this way and that, targeting the weak points of the demon’s body that Shinobu taught you of which would allow for quicker absorption of the venom. You darted around in such a frenzied blur that the creature could barely even blink before you appeared in front of Giyuu, shielding him from his tormentor.

“(Y/N), I— I was fine…” He clutched a hand to his crimson-stained chest.

“Tomioka-san, you’re bleeding very badly. I couldn’t leave you to get hurt.” You spotted the girl in the middle of the clearing, sitting up and looking around the area with curiosity. Glancing briefly over your shoulder, you assessed what would be the best move for both of them. “Are you able to move?”

“I’ll go help the girl. You— hck… you take care of this.”

A smile formed on your lips as he dashed away at the synchronization the two of you always shared. It was like you could read each other’s thoughts.

A pained howl snapped you back to reality as the demon in front of you seized and whined in pain as the poison began to kick in. One of the only differences between you and your older sister was that you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy at the elongated suffering your fighting technique brought upon your target in their final moments before death.

What did they think of? What were they feeling? Who did they want to cry out for?

The demon thrashed once before every single muscle in their body froze, and their mutated body dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. You stepped closer to them, locking your apologetic eyes with their four frightened ones as they trembled in fear.

Lightly tracing their gnarled neck with the edge of your sword, you whispered, “I’m sorry. Please cross over safely, where your loved ones will await you.” You pressed the blade into their neck, various crimson fluids spilling out—

“Si… ster…”

You stopped.

Flakes of gray skin began to crumble away.

“Where… little sister…”

Your thumping heart froze in your chest.

The body in front of you continued to disintegrate.

“I’m… so sorry…”

It burned and burned and burned, until smell of ash and death was all that remained of the little girl’s older brother.

The glade was enveloped in the warm, glittering glow of dawn as the shimmering rays of sun trickled in through the thinning treetops.

A pair of kakushi had escorted the little girl away, who had been blubbering with tears as she was dragged away from the remnants of her demonized brother.

You knelt before your best friend now, applying an abundance of salves and bandages to his battered chest with a numb buzzing rushing through your veins.

“… Okay?”

You snapped back into reality.

“(Y/N), you’re out of it… are you okay?”

Your eyes latched on to Giyuu’s, who was gazing up at you from your lap with a concerned look.

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Family.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to keep your tears at bay, nodding softly.

A weight lifted off of your thighs as you wiped at your cheeks, when you suddenly felt arms wrapped tightly around your trembling body.

Eyes snapping open, you realized that Giyuu was hugging you.

“Giyuu—”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

The labored, uneven breathing near your ear disputed that statement.

A single tear slipped down your cheek.

“Giyuu… let me take care of you. Please.”

“No. You need it more than I do.”

Arguing with him was useless, and you were so exhausted.

So you let him hold you.

And then he kissed your cheek.

It was only a soft, featherlight peck.

But it was your new motivation to fight.

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[chunhua-s]

WITH OUR FATES TANGLED TOGETHER  ➽ ATSUMU MIYA X READER

requested by: @tsumue​

➪ hi davi! so, as you know i fell deeply in love with your soulmate fics (a while ago and so did some of my friends!!) your writing is really beautiful and i couldn't stop myself from intruding your inbox🥺 if it's not too stupid or uninspiring could i mayhaps ask for a soulmate scenario angst to fluff (only if you feel up for it!) with atsumu? thank you!🤍

genre: angst to fluff

soulmate au: soulmates are bound together by a red string

warnings: angst — my ability to write this genre isn’t necessarily the best :v but i tried my best with it, and i did enjoy the experience! hopefully with time i’ll be able to write more and get better at it! 

you meet your soulmate at age sixteen.

the fear that grips at your heart is mind numbing. it sinks cold fingers into your neck and bruises it with a cruel hand that cuts off all air from your lungs, and leaves you empty so that the only other thing you can feel is hot, hot anger.

the anger isn’t yours — the red chord that’s gotten all tangled up between your fingers tells you as much. instead, it belongs to him.

the him who stands before you with hard brown eyes and lips pressed into a thin line. the him who you’d always wanted to meet ever since that red chord tangled itself between your fingers at the age of seven. the him whose name you’d dreamed of without ever knowing it, had fantasized about how it would feel to let it roll from your tongue. he’s here — you’ve finally met your soulmate, but why does the red chord that connects you two together feel so heavy all of a sudden?

miya atsumu sighs, lifting a hand to run through his sweat-matted blond hair: your eyes follow the motion. it was easier to watch that red string and think about the way it wrapped around his fingers than to meet brown eyes that burned under a muted fury. “look, i—“ the voice that you always imagined would cause your heart to take flight on butterfly wings reaches your ears on a cold, flat tone that locks your body down to a barren winter land. “i know this isn’t what you expected for when you meet your soulmate.” by the time you finally pull your eyes to look at his face, they’re burning with tears and blur the image of him until he’s a blend of colours you can’t tell apart. his lips move behind a sheet of haze, like a spell cast over your vision that should protect you from breaking.

“but i don’t think i can be together with someone else right now.”

that spell can do nothing for your heart that rips apart underneath the blunt end of his blade.

when he looks at you, there’s something behind the light of anger and hatred — hatred for you, why does he hate you, you don’t understand... did you do something wrong? what you see behind flames of brown sugar and autumn leaves is a chasm: wide and glaring and so consumingly empty. it spits on the bedtime stories of warmth and unimaginable joy and fulfillment that a soulmate should bring — it chews on those fairytales and coughs them out on a plate of cold indifference, hate, contempt. and it hurts.

“o-oh,” you choke. there’s no way you can meet his eyes like this; your voice is cracking under the weight of your pain and your tears threaten to paint your skin with the colour of blood red agony. “i... I understand.” you don’t. this isn’t what your friends told you would happen. nothing prepared you for your own soulmate to reject you. “that’s fine, i—” breathing becomes hard, your very lungs reject the air that you so desperately drag between your trembling lips. when you look up at him, what hope that you feel is quickly smothered when you catch his eyes. he looks at you as if the sight of you here, on the verge of tears, disgusts him. “i can wait for you... i don’t mind.”

he scoffs: the sound of it is like the grating of metal against your ears. “sure, whatever.” and that’s how he leaves you. broken hearted and crying for the ache that cripples your body as the red chord tightens around your fingers.

now, the picture of him standing before you is so jarringly different that it causes your world to spin so violently that you feel as if your legs might collapse in on themselves. your reality turns itself on its side so that your cup spills out from between your hands and leaves your heart vulnerable to the cold water that floods through your body.

atsumu miya’s eyes are searching as he stands beneath the winter night’s sky, the brown colour in them filled up with a warmth that you know for a fact wasn’t there on that day you met him. there’s pain on his expression, regret so tangible that it tastes sour on your tongue, and when he says your name on trembling lips, you feel the last of your will crumble into dust.

“y/n...” he’s pleading. his eyes are wet with the same tears that had touched your cheeks throughout the two years he’d left you waiting. they tell the story of unmistakable suffering and agony — the familiarity of it tears your heart into pieces and leaves you gasping for air. “please.”

and oh, by the gods above, you want so desperately to welcome him into your arms, want nothing more than to hold him so that you can feel whole for the first time since meeting him. but the pain that still echoes inside your chest is loud and demanding, rumbling through your ribs like a thunderstorm that pushes words you don’t want to say out from between your lips. when they fall, they reach atsumu’s skin like the little snowflakes that fall from the winter sky. they melt into his tears and dig their way into his heart until he’s left breathless because he knows just how he hurt you.

“you made me wait for so long, atsumu.”

he can’t begin to tell you how much he regrets it.

“i’m sorry...” his apology falls from him like a whimper. it dances on his tongue so that he can taste the salt of his own tears. he discovers that it’s awfully bitter. “I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

the emptiness, the helpless acceptance in your voice echoes inside his mind. “i was so close to giving up, you know? i thought you’d be happier if you weren’t tied down to me...”

he knows. god, he knows. every minute of pain and hurt had trickled down to him through the red string that connects the both of you, and the knowledge that you suffered so much because of him, it tears him apart as he stands before you.

“no, please— i can’t live without you...”

he really can’t. he tried to forget about you. he threw himself out into a reckless life and ate the hearts of others who sought for his affection, hoping that they could somehow erase the wretched piece of cloth that tied him down. he submerged himself underwater hoping to breathe, and found himself drowning without you.

“you hurt me.”

“and i was selfish, i know...” he reaches out for you on a single, hesitant step that crumbles the snow beneath his shoes. when you don’t step away, he takes another, pushes himself forward until you’re standing directly in front of him, tear-stained eyes tilting upwards to stare into his. they’re burning, you notice: the fire that consumes the brown in them this time, though, is different. it’s changed.

he reaches for your hand, holds it between the both of his and cups it close to his chest, and his eyes never leave yours. they reveal to you the secrets that his lips won’t tell to you, they bare every ounce of yearning that his spirit screams out silently, and it’s as if every cell in his body is desperate to feel you against him when you can feel the heat of him through your gloves. “but let me make it up to you...” his whisper falls underneath the soft winds, it caresses your skin just as gently and, as you’re looking up at him, your soulmate, you can’t help the tears that sting behind your eyes. you realize that, just like back then, his image is blurred by the curtains of water, but now he glows like the sun itself. everything about him manages to warm your heart on a cold winter night, and god knows you’ll never forgive the pain that he’s caused you — all those years filled with doubt and insecurity and despair — but you think to yourself as you lift one of his hands to hold against your cheek that, at the very least, you want to take a chance with him.

his eyes shine like the stars when you show him a watery smile. “yes...” you whisper back to him. he thinks the sound of it is sweet, and he imagines that your voice may be what it means to dance among sunflowers.

“i want to take a chance with you, atsumu.”

haikyuu!! soulmate au taglist: @nishiya-is-baby

general taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @tsumue @bootylikepeachy

send an ask to be added!

so this is admittedly one of my shorter works and i did struggle a little with transitioning from angst to fluff :( i originally had two ideas, this one which is mostly angst, and another that’s mostly fluff, but in the end i decided to go with this one since i know runa likes angst a lot :0 bb i hope it was okay!

for atsumu’s character in this i wanted to push across that he didn’t want to be tied down with a soulmate when he had his volleyball aspirations to follow through with. although i don’t recall it being specifically stated in canon, i get the feeling that his dedication towards volleyball is nearly on the same level as kageyama’s and oikawa’s, where they wouldn’t be able to give themselves into a relationship when they had their dreams to seek after. so at the point in time when he meets the reader, he’d already decided to disregard any attachment for his soulmate, and so his attitude towards them is a result of that decision he made. however, time spent intentionally trying to separate yourself from your soulmate causes suffering and i wanted to show in the end that it was that pain and longing that finally drove him back to the reader. i feel like if i’d shown from atsumu’s perspective, i could have portrayed that pain and suffering that he’d have gone through without her, but i really wanted to show that through the reader instead. did it work well?

this is part of a series, so please send me an ask or dm if you’d like to be apart of a taglist! i’m currently taking request for haikyuu characters and soulmate au’s, so please come and leave your requests for those as well! thank you for reading!  ♡ 

previous: hajime iwaizumi | next stop: requests are open!

[capesandshapes]

for the LS drabble

Ladrien and Tangled

(is tangled even a fairytale idk ksjdksjsjjs)

(It's Rapunzel but you tried so hard, Mat.)

She would have liked to believe that deep down, Gabriel Agreste was actually a good person. Largely because his designs once covered her walls, standing out in collages she made of her dreams, of people she would like to be and places she would like to see. He was a hero to her but, the worst part of growing up was figuring out that all of those people you considered heroes were actually villains in someone else’s story.

And in this case, that someone else was Adrien, her new dream if you were getting technical about the placement of his pictures on her wall. Her friend and the best person she’d ever met, someone who never failed to make her smile.

Someone who sat alone in his room on one of the most cheerful nights in Paris, told to stay there by his father. Bastille day was raging outside, and Adrien was told to sit in his room. Meanwhile, his father was giving interviews on television, surrounded by models and influencers at one of the more exclusive parties.

Gabriel was most definitely not a hero.

But just because he couldn’t be a good person, just because he wouldn’t do the right thing, didn’t mean that she couldn’t.

Which is how, right before fireworks were meant to start, Ladybug ended up dangling off the side of the Agreste mansion, knocking gently on a window, almost falling off the building when just a few windows down, another one slammed shut, a heavy breath escaping a young man as he snuck into his home.

If she had looked just a moment sooner, she would have seen who really closed that window, but instead she was peering through a much larger glass fixture, waiting.

And then, his face fully alight and a pair of sweatpants Marinette had never seen him wear before on his hips, Adrien appeared.

She couldn’t help the way that her mouth fell open ever so slightly whenever he entered the room. The young man bound up to the window beside her, throwing it open with a nervous smile, Ladybug reflecting in his eyes.

And she went through the same excuse that she had rehearsed a million times before, almost screwing it up but somehow powering along. “Hi, um, I’m out and about today, keeping an eye on the citizens of Paris, and I couldn’t help but notice…” She trailed off. She couldn’t exactly say that she noticed him in his room since that wasn’t where he was, but she wanted to all the same.

This was the kind of thing Chat would do, she knew. The kind of risky, stupid behavior that he lived off of. But she couldn’t help but think that, so long as it was Adrien, it was worth it. She wondered if Chat could say the same about her, Marinette.

“It’s just me all alone,” Adrien reassured shyly.

But it didn’t have to be, not really. “I know, I’m just out here, looking for…” an excuse, “—a partner,” she internally winced at the statement. “I thought maybe Aspik would like to roam free for the night.” Because, you know, it didn’t totally not make sense for her to be patrolling without Chat Noir, her actual partner.

Adrien didn’t seem to buy it either. In fact, he seemed borderline confused, which probably made sense. Truthfully, all of Paris knew that she would be watching the fireworks with Chat Noir, she’d promised him. But Adrien…

“It just seems kind of depressing,” she admitted, “for everyone to be out there, and you to be alone in here.” It wasn’t something she had the right to worry about, she knew, especially since he didn’t technically know her, not like this. But Marinette cared about him. She wanted him to be happy.

He only nodded at the statement, his face making that sinking feeling in her stomach drop even lower.

“I just thought,” she said, her voice soft, “that maybe, even though I’m supposed to be the pillar of justice here and everything, for one night, I could break the rules.” Like Chat would, like Chat always would when Marinette was upset. “I wanted to get you out of here. I know that’s probably not the best thing to do but, I heard you were going to be here and…”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he said in response, his lips moving ever so slightly upwards. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing at all, Ladybug.” There was something unspoken there, something she didn’t understand, that she couldn’t even try to comprehend.

“I just want you to be happy,” she said, almost so lightly that he couldn’t hear it. Because at the end of the day, she could save Paris and be a role model all she wanted, but she was still Marinette; and all Marinette wanted to do was make Adrien smile.

“I can’t go,” he said sadly, shaking his head. “Not tonight.” He edged towards the pan of the window, closer and closer to the edge. “But just knowing that someone cares makes me happy,” he admitted.

She could have cried, because in those words sat something so much more, a sort of loneliness that she couldn’t understand. Maybe she’d never understand.

Because she couldn’t put into words how much she cared, or tell him all the ways that she wanted to change his life and break him out of the cruel fate he’d been gifted… She did the closest thing to it.

Marinette leaned forward, the cable of her yoyo sounding above her, and pressed her lips gently against his cheek, pouring all of the love and affection that she wished she had the courage to tell him about outside of her supersuit into one small kiss. “Someday,” she promised both him and herself. Someday she would get him out of there.

Someday she would save him from Gabriel Agreste.

I’m doing love square requests, if you want one, be sure to drop a side of the love square and a fairytale in my inbox!

[stormhearty]

masterlist

Legend: —— ❤︎ ( fluff ) —— 𖥔 ( angst )

series:

—— reach your voice to the stars masterlist — modern rock band au ( ACOTAR boys x Reader ) : 1/??? ❤︎ —— pushed to the edge masterlist — ( Azriel x Seer!reader) : 4/4 𖥔 —— bleeding crowns masterlist — ( Eris x Reader ) : 1/??? 𖥔

one-shots:

—— death's magic — ( Eris x Death!reader x Rhysand ) ❤︎ 𖥔 —— breaking like glass — ( Rhysand x Reader, Feysand ) 𖥔 —— nothing but a curse — ( Lucien x Reader, Elucien ) 𖥔 —— i'm yours ( Azriel x Reader, Former Lucien x Reader ) ❤︎ 𖥔 —— three is a crowd ( Eris x Reader x Azriel ) ❤︎

inbox requests:

—— thank u, next — (Modern!Azriel x Reader, Modern!Eris x Reader ) ❤︎ 𖥔 —— pushed to the edge : death anniversary — ( Former Azriel x Seer!reader ) 𖥔 —— breaking like glass: mended hearts and minds — ( Former Rhysand x Reader, Feysand, Tarquin x Reader ) ❤︎ 𖥔 —— notions of devotion — ( Eris x Reader ) 𖥔 —— when you call me home — ( Azriel x Reader ) 𖥔 —— how fate so cruel — ( Azriel x Seer!Reader ) 𖥔

[zekeluvr]

Hiii cherry! I already followed you in tetsuhous and I just love your writing also big brains think alike (tetsu is my fav and Jean for AOT) and since I'm hyping with AOT new season I can't help but to step into you inbox ( hope you don't mind ^^)

Could I possible reque a scenario in which Jean has a huge argument with his S/o and they keep pretty distanced from each other for some time until they are both send to a mission and she is almost killed by a titan?

Hope you like it and you enjoy writing it baby! Also here to give an impulse and a shout-out! 😊

Love, Mer.

heyyy!! aaa thank you so much for being so kind!! ive seen your request on tetsushous and im working it so hopefully it comes out soon!! sorry for making you wait so long !! <3 ily stay safe and healthy !! 

vvv angst under the cut vvv

you loved jean. you really did. you watched him grow up through the years. from introducing yourself to him when you first signed up to the scouts, to trying to help him get with mikasa, to falling for him yourself. your heart ached for him and every time you went on missions you couldn’t help but worry over him. he was your yellow, your sunshine and you were not letting this cruel reality take him from you.

some say you’re too protective. almost mirroring how mikasa acts with eren. but you didn’t care, you’d do anything to protect him. that was probably the reason of the argument you had with him last night. his friends, mostly conny, teasing him, calling him a damsel in distress whereas you were the night in shining armour. of course at first he didn’t mind it, going along with the joke. but it got tiresome for him, causing him to snap from the stress and pressure of responsibilities and how annoying the supposed joke got. 

you didn’t speak to eachother since. hurtful being thrown around without a care in the world. you both silently suited up, ready for the next mission beyond the walls. you both had always reassured eachother with ‘i love yous’ before each mission since you never know how they go. today was different. he left without a word. your heart dropped. did it hurt him that badly?

you shook your thoughts away. you had to fight for humanity, and that’s what you’re putting your mind to. 

however, what you didn’t expect was the amount of titans. more than usual. you cursed to yourself. probably the beast titan. you looked around for jean but you couldn’t see him. fuck, he must’ve been further in front. regret settled in from yesterday as tears pricked in your eyes at the memory. 

that was your weak moment. you never have those. you were one of the most strongest cadets, something that jean adored in you, something that brought you and mikasa closer together. yet that single moment, nearly costed you you’re life. you were swept up in the hands of a titan, eyes bulging out of your sockets and panic bubbling through you. you can’t believe this. are you really going to die?

the shock must’ve gotten to your head, causing your eyelids to droop shut as you accepted your fate.

“y/n! y/n! what the fuck, where is she?” a voice yelled, causing your senses to awaken. your head was pounding, you felt like your brain was about to combust. the last thing you remembered was being at the hands of a titan but now? you were on top the wall, laying down. you gazed at the clouds and the pretty blue of the sky. you seemed so calm, so at peace for someone who nearly became titan food.

“y/n! holy fuck, you’re okay, you’re okay!” you recognised that voice. jean’s arm wrapping around your form. you looked towards him: eyes bloodshot, fingers trembling. 

“jean..” you breathed out, bringing a hand to run your fingers through his hair soothingly. he sobbed. hot tears running across his face at the sound of your voice.

“im sorry.. im so fucking sorry.” he managed to choke out, holding you tighter. hange signalled everyone to move away, giving you both some space. 

“i know, it’s fine.” you croaked out, pressing your lips to his softly. nothing could separate you and your yellow. not the titans, not the universe and not even fate.

[sunseteyes]

↪︎ firstly, i’d like to say that i have already cleared out my inbox because of the new rules i’ve set. don’t worry because i left out a few of the ones i’m working on and i promise to post them during january. i’ll be closing my requests for a bit but they’ll be re-opened by next year.

↪︎ second, i’d like to say thank you. there are many people whom i’ve met here that are so kind and sweet. all of you deserves praise for spreading such positivity and motivating me to stay here,

↪︎ but thirdly, i’d announce that i will be on a short break on tumblr, probably a few days of refreshing my mind again, hang out with my grandparents. be me. i realized just how tired i keep getting whenever i don’t see any notifications, interactions and when i do, i just am so tired to answer them. it’s unfair to all of you. to the anons who keep calling me out for the smallest things, i don’t blame you. i know i’m an imperfect person, but they just come at the times that i am so down and everything gets messed up. my mind is such a messy place that i start to realize; i am losing who i am. i can write, but i lost the passion to run this blog anymore. if i keep going up to people’s standards without standing up for myself, isn’t that such a cruel life? i wanted to deactivate, but it would just mean i’ve given up. i’m not giving up on myself, and i hope you guys won’t too.

↪︎ lastly, i’d like to thank all the people tagged under this line. you guys made me want to always log in here and do what i have always been passionate about ever since i was ten. even with this pandemic and distance, you made my days.

@/all my character anons — each one of you made me smile at least once in my lifetime and i really really appreciate you all. even if you only came here once, twice or more, thank you. thank you so so much. i will forever be grateful of each and every one of you.

@liliannyah — nia, honey, baby, my soulmate, my sister from another mother, even if we only met a month ago (wait was it a month or two?), talking to you had always made me smile. you have no idea how thankful i am that i met you and how i always look forward in chatting you. i love you with my whole heart. if we ever meet each other in japan, i’ll let you meet my future spouse and treat you sjsjns

@kuroolongtea — hi jin! i never call you any endearments bc i saw in one of your about me’s that you’d rather be called your name hehe i always take note of that :D also, i’d like to thank you for being really really kind to me and acted like an older irl friend tho you’re indeed older than me ahhaha. you, jin, are one of the most treasured friends in this app. thank you for listening to my rants and even when i broke down. i’ll always be grateful of you. i love you so much, i wish you always the best, miss jin!

@brinthie — hi brin bb!! we haven’t been talking lately but remember that i am always here for you and that i will forever remain in debt of you. because of you, i am here on tumblr. your comments on my ao3? it really pushed me to write here, and ohgod i am still surprised that you, the writer of the ao3 collection i literally binged for a lot of days, was the one who i’ve talked to almost everyday? it’s fate honey haha. let’s see each other when we can irl :D i love you forever, have a great 2021!

@deephasoceanmagic — deep baby honestly i was so shy to interact at first but omg you’re like so so so sweet and kind and i just love you so so much! let us only child’s stick together ok?? also, i’m sorry i haven’t been checking up on you for awhile but i’m always here for you ok?? if you’re feeling lonely, i’m just one chat away!

@elysianslove — sal!! you are my favorite author here and i am so glad to have been talking to you aaaa i love you so much and this is to more interactions & convos with you in the future <3 love you so much honey !!

@minibobabottle @tinytravelerkitten @giyuus-wife — you guys have my gratefulness and my heart. thank you thank you thank you always for checking up on me and making me feel special🥺🥺 kieran, ai, wifey mia, i am touched that you always check up on me daily !!!!! you guys have no idea how thankful i am for that. i promise to be good to you guys🥺🥺🥺 i love you <3

@olsenholic @animatedarchives @basketofgoldie @owlywrites @ushi-please @bokoutoe @solstxces @mrs-kuroojinguji @todominica @oikaw-ugh @kawaiinishii @tsuhika @amoroushero @hajimine — hello lovelies !! you guys are probably one of those whom i interact the most in here and i would like to say: you guys are SPECIAL and i am so happy to have the opportunity to meet all of you. i hope we could be closer and i promise to have your backs always <3 i’m here for all of you, i’m literally just one chat/ask away !! i love you all~

@osamuskitten @xxacatalepsy @lyssors — hey babies thanks so much for checking up on me and for the character anon interactions🥺 im so honored that you chose to be a character anon for me and i hope you had fun rp-ing with me👉🏼👈🏼 til next time !! ilysm~

@unlasting @sunakissses @flairlust @yamagucji @katsukichu @gg9183 @prettysetterbaby @bimbobabeyy @paradise-creator @necr0misis @bokutosworld @ordinary-ace @iwas-angel @oikawasbliss @iwaisa @unloviing — hello!!! even if we just met like almost recently and it’s really nice to meet you all!! my asks/dms are always always welcome! plus, don’t mind me stopping by your asks too because i do that often esp if i see you on my dash hehe

(part two here but they have the same content anyway so there’s no need to see it.)

also, for any of you who’s reading this, I LOVE YOU. always stay safe, hydrated, and having a decent meal daily <3 wishing you all to have a lovely day/week/year! for anyone who’d like to know my discord, it’s kengela#1783 !! do tell me thru dm’s tho if you’re sending a request so that i’ll know who you are hahah

[disconnected-from-reality]

Fanfic Rec: 00Q Part 3

It’s been more than a year! I have totally been procrastinating in doing this if I’m truly honest. A lot of things happened in my life as well! There are good and bad things, but what matters most is that I still have a number of fics to recommend for you! I haven’t stopped reading, don’t worry. 

Also I think it’s a good time to post my list. The next Bond movie has released its trailer and the 00Q crumbs we got from the trailer got a lot of shippers back on board. If you’re that person, you might want to check these fanfics out! 

To see the other parts, click here for part 1 and for part 2.

Let Love In by dhampir72  [Words: 21,437 | Teens and Up Audiences] They're still learning that love is more of a journey and less of a destination. [A series of interconnected vignettes].

Ulysses by girlbookwrm [Words: 89,065 | Teens and Up Audiences] “Paperwork for the new head of Q-Branch,” Tanner said. “Of course.” The words were like glass in his throat. Smoke inhalation was a bitch. His brain felt slow and foggy, like it was full of smoke too. “Who shall I take them to?” M lifted one white brow. “They’re for you, Quartermaster.” Bond and Q are drawn together by names, work, and a certain Aston Martin. In which Q is kidnapped once, Bond is poisoned twice, and Eve is a badass on at least three occasions. AKA that time I tripped and wrote 80,000 words of 00Q. All titles unapologetically stolen from Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Espionage is a Family Affair by nagapdragon [Words: 78.403 | Mature] It's common knowledge that angels make good weapons and terrible soldiers. They're hard to kill, hard to catch, and leave a swathe of destruction wherever they go. That's why MI6 likes them. James Bond, Agent 007, is one of the most devastating weapons MI6 will admit to having. Explosions follow his every whim and he's nearly impossible to kill, despite the best efforts of terrorists worldwide. He's second only to the weapons MI6 pretends don't exist- archangels are only a theory, after all. Aren't they?

Bond to You by therunawaypen [Words: 5,749 | Mature] Bond isn't a name. It's a rare breed of people that have designated soulmates, to whom a Bond will be eternally faithful to. Every child dreams of being a Bond's Chosen soulmate. James uses his status as a Bond to seduce many a mark into thinking they're his Chosen, while deep down he resents his identity because he has been unable to find his Chosen. Then he meets Q that fateful day in front of that painting.

How Q Hacked Online Dating by JayPendragon [Words: 23,836 | Explicit] “How does that lead to…?” Eve waves her hand at the mess behind Q’s back. Q feels his expression morph into a sly grin. “I have a new plan. I’m going to stay on these dating platforms, but I’m going to treat them as databases. Rather than waiting for an algorithm to set me up, I'm going to try reverse-engineering this entire system.” In which Q works in the private sector, still winds up friends with Eve, and applies science to his love life. Obviously, Eve gets involved.

Leading Edge by Batsutousai  [Words:  7,251 | Teens and Up Audiences] All fae-born were raised on stories of how cruel dragon-borns were, how they had no care for anyone outside themselves and their greed, that they would sell their own mother's soul to the devil before allowing themselves to be hurt. They were told that all dragon-borns were to be killed on sight, and taught spells that would do just that, if ever given the chance. It would be just Q's luck that one of his agents was dragon-born.

Pen and Paper by Salios [Words:  5,300 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q wrung his hands anxiously, teeth gnawing at his lower lip. It was a bad habit, biting his lip, but he couldn’t help it when he was nervous. And he really did have reason to be nervous. Well, excited to the point of nearly crippling nervousness, actually. Today he’d finally get to meet his boyfriend of three years. For the first time ever.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron [Words: 10,538 | Teens and Up Audiences]   “I’m not you, Bond. I don’t exactly have a technique for getting rich strangers to like me.” “Just do your naive cute puppy thing, and they’ll be doting on you in no time,” Bond replies as he pulls up to the grand estate. “My what?” Q asks incredulously. Bond doesn’t answer, simply giving him an indulgent smile. The fucker. (or: 00q meets Gosford Park. Except not really.)

A Common Solution by SailorChibi  [Words:  17,654 | Teens and Up Audiences] Bond has been ignoring his biological needs. Boothroyd is retiring and MI6 is in need of a new Quartermaster. What do these two things have in common? They both have an easy solution... if only M can get Bond to extract a certain hacker  NOTE: This does not have the “James Bond/Q” tag, but I’ll add it in my list anyway.

Taken by Nana_41175 [Words: WIP | Explicit]    Or, the cheating fic that *nearly* is! Q is engaged to be married, but not to Bond. Excerpt: Bond blinked. “Boyfriend? What do you mean, boyfriend?” “I mean exactly that,” said Moneypenny. “Honestly, what’s the matter with you? Q’s been seeing someone for over a year. And if I’m not mistaken, Daniel is going to pop the question on him this evening. Dan asked me for advice on the ring, after all.” NOTE: This is currently a WIP fanfic, but it’s almost done with 2 chapters left to be posted. Would be a bummer if I don’t add it, right? 

His Keeper by Nana_41175 [Words:  45,482 | Explicit] Protecting the Quartermaster entails a special set of circumstances, and Q is the last one to know. Excerpt: “Your identity has been compromised,” M said as he leaned forward in his chair, his features grim even as his tone remained even and calm. “I am standing you down from all your duties in Q branch. Kindly hand in all personal computers and devices. I am placing you on administrative leave, effective immediately. You need to disappear for a while, Q, for your own safety. Think of this as the holiday you never had these past two years. We will get down to the bottom of this and repair the damage done; otherwise I shall have to ask you to step down. ”Q gaped at him, finally speechless. “At any rate, quartermasters are entitled to double-O agents as bodyguards, when the need arises, and he personally volunteered,” M continued as though he’d not just dropped the equivalent of a bomb and a death sentence through slow torture rolled into one, “and I do agree that under the circumstances, 007 would be the best choice as your bodyguard.”

Daddy and Uncle James by 1MissMolly [Words:  26,115 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond can remain cool and collected in the most trying of circumstances. He is an expert at hand to hand combat and marksman with numerous weapons. He can seduce any woman or man he chooses. He has the highest success rate at achieving his goals, and he has his sights on the young Quartermaster. The only thing standing in his way is the only thing that will surely defeat him. A six year old girl named Elizabeth Park. Bond's planned seduction of Q is interrupted by the arrival of Q's daughter, Lizzie.

Treason, Traitors, and Treachery by Kryptaria, zooeyscigar [Words:  63,230 | Mature] All James Bond wanted was a quiet holiday on his luxury motoryacht on the Costa del Sol. Time to recuperate and think about his future with MI6. But his plans get hijacked when a traitor to the crown returns, bringing news of an even greater threat to MI6. And the traitor isn't working alone.Thankfully, neither is James.

Playing the Part by ElektricAngel [Words: 23,116 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond comes into Q Branch after a mission with all of his equipment accounted for and in tact, and a complete mission report in Q's inbox. Q is pleasantly surprised and more than a little suspicious. Rightly so, as it happens, because Bond makes an unusual request of him. And yet, his license to kill is not the only thing that makes the man difficult to say no to...

Breathe With Me by Flantastic [Words: 7,575 | Explicit] When James Bond goes back to MI6 following his disastrous relationship with Dr Madeleine Swann, Q wants nothing to do with him. Then there's an accident in Q-Branch...

Bittersweet by dr_girlfriend [Words:  14,229 | Explicit] The first time Bond flirted with Q, it was purely out of self-defense. The second time Bond flirted with Q was largely manipulation. The third time Bond flirted with Q, he just wanted to feel something. The fourth time Bond flirted with Q was out of sheer boredom.Somehow, flirting with Q became something of a habit for Bond.And then, it became something else.

A Bond of Matrimony by enigma_kar [Words: 12,691 | Mature] The one where Bond’s next mission involves going undercover with Q. Includes: banter, fake marriage, espionage, car chases, life-or-death situations, and Moneypenny taking far too much delight in the whole affair.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron [Words: 6,002 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q has been in love for two years, six months, and twelve days when James Bond walks away, leaving him with a bleeding head and a broken heart on a dark and noisy London bridge.

just like old times (please don’t ever change) by Rosslyn  [Words:  5,173 | Teens and Up Audiences] Sometimes when Q is alone in his workshop and there is an experiment that needs to be supervised and he can’t go home and he can’t sleep, he watches Bond’s vitals.

How Much Love Can the Weight of Water Carry? by 00QEros (Dassandre) [Words: 39,549 | Explicit] Though Bond returned to MI6 after his ill advised jaunt around the globe with Madeleine Swann, Q still struggles with his own feelings for the agent in spite of the fact that Bond is clearly not the same man as the one who walked away from their friendship on Westminster Bridge. James regrets having left London and MI6, but it is nothing in comparison to the remorse he feels for abandoning Q. However, James has made repairing their friendship his primary goal in the hope of gaining something he never realised he needed as badly as he does. But Bond really hasn’t had a good time of it lately. Breaking his leg in a freak accident, James camps out at Q’s flat when the white-washed, soulless walls of Medical become too much for him to tolerate. Unfortunately, his leg is only the beginning of Bond’s health problems, and Q is conscripted into being James’ caretaker. Confined to the close quarters of Q’s flat, the Quartermaster finds himself opening back up to the agent, but will the two men find their way to one another as they should have done years ago, or is time no longer on their side?

So I guess that’s it for now! I still have a couple in my belt, but most of them are still WIP so I’d keep them for now. I’ll be adding them once they are finished. 

[masterskywalkers]

Small little drabble before I get stuck in on the requests sitting in my inbox. This is for the prompt ‘do you hate me?’ from this prompt list.

Now posted over here on AO3.

Vasco tries not to freeze as the very person he’s been avoiding sits beside him. He continues staring ahead at the expanse of trees before them, stubbornly doing his best to ignore the visitor, both hoping and dreading that they’ll eventually decide to leave him alone.

He does well in pretending that their presence has gone unnoticed to him. That is until the softly spoken question reaches his ears.

“Do you hate me?”

Vasco can't stop how he sneers to himself; how he lets out a quick huff of breath whilst giving a small shake of his head in disbelief. Because by all rights he should hate Caleb. All the reasons are swimming at the forefront of his thoughts, telling him that he should hate how Caleb's decision ended up breaking the world, hate that he didn’t choose him in the end — or rather, that he didn't choose what they had together. He should hate him for all the years Vasco spent mourning him, believing him to be gone; taken far, far, away to a place he could never follow.

Deep in his heart however, Vasco knows it's impossible for him to feel any such thing.

He can be mad at him. He can wish he'd never found out the truth, that he'd continued to live in the ignorance Caleb's supposed death brought in its wake.

But Vasco can never truly hate Caleb. 

After all this time and after everything that's happened, he still loves him far too much.

“It would be easier if I did,” Vasco finally settles to respond, his eyes narrowing as he speaks. Beside him Caleb nods his head gracefully, waiting a stretch of a moment before breaking the silence between them once more.

“I doubt it would make much difference to you now. But on the chance that it does mean anything ... know that I am truly sorry.” 

Although his voice hasn’t changed by much over the stretch of years Vasco doesn't fail to notice how Calebs tone is somewhat ... calmer than he remembers. He supposes that it is another subtle change Godhood has brought about him, just as it had changed aspects of Caleb's own appearance. 

“Although it was never my intention, I deceived you. My choices have brought you much pain, and I wish -“

“Wishes are meaningless,” Vasco interrupts, not wanting to hear what direction Caleb's words are going. “Even you with all your godly powers can’t change the past.”

Another long silence settles between them, the tension brought with it taut. Vasco's mind wanders, trekking down the dangerous path of memories; dreams he'd once carried for them both. Briefly he torments himself with the thought of a life they could have shared together, a possibility which had once dangled so temptingly before him before fates cruel hands hastened to snatch it away.

"Vasco - I want ... no. I need you to know. It was never a choice of whom I loved more."

Vasco turns his gaze slightly towards him, noticing how Caleb seems almost ... nervous. He remains silent, inviting Caleb to carry on. To explain.

"I thought I could do it. That I could stop Constantin. Yet when I was faced against him ..." 

Caleb clenches his eyes tightly. Vasco watches as he shakes his head, eyes opening as a frown deepens across his brow.

"I’ve since realised that when it comes to the people that I love I am selfish, Vasco. I would have done the same if it were you standing where he stood that day. While my Cousin's death may have saved the world for others, it would have crushed mine into dust."

“That's where you're wrong," answers Vasco, words spoken like a growl. "Godhood doesn’t suit you, Caleb. Or at least - it doesn’t suit the Caleb I fell in love with. Then again, you as good as killed that man the same day you damned the rest of us.” 

Vasco notices Caleb’s face flicker, before hardening behind a carefully constructed mask. The truth is a hurtful thing, but then Vasco doesn’t feel Caleb should remain ignorant to it. A little bit of pain is nothing compared to what he's caused others to feel.

“You were never selfish. Once you used to care. You used to care about everything. A peaceful world - that’s what you wished for. What you wanted to build alongside your Cousin. An idealistic fantasy perhaps, but it was a dream worth aspiring too, and one I was damn well proud to help you work towards.”

He still remembers the nights on the journey to Tir Fradi, back when the two of them were still hesitant about one another. A time when their friendship was tentative yet growing. He remembers how he and Kurt would sit and listen while Caleb and Constantin went over their expectations for their new adventure, the things they wanted to do as soon as they reached land. Often Kurt would laugh and joke with the two cousins, sharing with Vasco how the two of them had been preparing for the journey for weeks. 

Vasco remembers how even then he had begun to see that the two of them were different, that they were unlike any of the other nobles he'd had the unfortunate experience to work with in the past. Their goals seemed admirable - Constantin wanting to govern over New Sérène in a fair and kind way, while Caleb wanted nothing more but to find a cure for the Malichor. He recalls how he came to learn that the two of them had grown tired of constantly being chewed up and spat back out by the political scrambling of the old lands, how they wanted to put such experiences behind them and instead push forward in creating a better world of their own.

The memory feels somewhat tainted now. That better world they wanted had come true - but the price had been high. Too high. 

What good was a dream of peace when such peace only benefitted the few?

“Know this Caleb,” Vasco says, trying to temper the emotion he can feel building up within himself at the growing frustration his tainted memories bring with them. “I never would have posed you with such a choice. What we were all building together wasn’t perfect, but it was good. It was working. People were learning to be better, were beginning to accept and work alongside one another more rather than to just take without thought. With time the alliances we worked on creating would have only grown stronger. But it’s because of you that all of that is gone and so many are still left to suffer. All because you decided you couldn’t let your cousin go.”

He stands, his frustration peaking with all the thoughts rushing to his mind. Vasco shakes his head, sighs.

“I knew coming back to this island was a mistake. I should have just gone on believing you were dead. That pain hurt a lot less.”

Vasco walks away, refusing to look back. 

He doesn't see how Caleb remains sitting, nor comes to know how he stays there for what feels like an age. 

He misses the shattered expression that rises upon Caleb's face.

[rewrite-the-night-court]

What I’d change about TOG

So, I saw another blog dedicated to fixing the problematic/uninteresting things about the ACOTAR series. Personally, I have been mentally doing the whole “if I had to remake this, I’d probably do it more like that” thing for years, and I’ve now decided to start a blog dedicated to it, but mostly to the series (and by extension, author) that initially made me start thinking about what I’d change: Throne of Glass.

Now, this is a LONG post dedicated to what I’d change about the first book in the TOG series. I mean no harm to SJM (which is why this is in the main tag, though I can remove it if it’s inappropriate to put this post there), this is just my take on how I think the books could have turned out differently.

If you disagree, feel free to do so; if you’re even so interested as to have a (civil) discussion with me, I’d love to talk to you! My inbox is always open!

It might be an incoherent mess, it might have more than a few plot holes, but I hope you enjoy the read anyways.

I’ll start with my feelings on the book in general. I actually took me a while to finish reading the entire thing. I bought the book because I really like the concept of a badass assassin struggling for her freedom by competing in deadly challenges, especially with some political/court intrigue and magic thrown into the mix. It seemed right up my alley. I did, however, put it down about 3/4ths in, because I did not feel like the book delivered what it promised, but rather that it trivialized the Tests and focused completely on the (very standard) love triangle.

My second “problem” with the book was Celaena herself. There were things I liked about her: For example, it was amazing to see a YA-protagonist not even admit, but even liking that she was good-looking and being confident in herself and her skills (YA sorely lacks female protagonists like that). Other things bothered me, in a way that eventually overshadowed the aspects of her character that I liked. I just kept thinking: “The world’s most feared assassin at 17?” It seems a little unlikely, not matter if she trained since she was 8 or not.

Those aspects of her character ties up to my problem with her as a character: She’s too powerful. I understand the appeal of a female power fantasy, especially for young girls. It’s badly needed in a sea of media in which women are portrayed as weak, or assets to male protagonists, without being given much, if any character development themselves. However, putting the world’s most feared assassin in a competition for her freedom... against other assassins? The stakes are close to zero. Not once was I worried about her victory, or safety, for that matter.

I saw someone rant about this on reddit, once, and they suggested one simple change. I’ll run along with their idea, as I feel it would change the books in a way that could be very engaging.

What if Lillian Gordaina the jewel thief was the 17 year old protagonist, and not just Celaena’s alias?

I imagine the book would start with Lillian having been caught stealing some jewelry, probably from a very rich merchant who have strong ties to perhaps the most powerful merchant’s guild in the land. Her father begs for the merchant not to do anything, reasoning that Lillian is still a child and meant no harm, but for some reason, the merchant is furious. In fact, he is so furious that he doesn’t want to settle for regular punishment, he’ll make sure she faces something even worse than just a fine.

When word arrive that Lillian is to partake in a contest and compete not only for her freedom, but for a position as the king’s champion, her family is shocked. What in the world would Lillian have to do there? She stole some jewelry, for Gods’ sake! As rumors start to circulate about the land’s most feared thieves, most skilled assassins, and most brutal warriors are to take part, Lillian’s parents attempt to spirit her away. She is caught, however, and is taken to the castle anyways.

Also in this version there isn’t an actual castle of glass. While it’s very Aesthetic™, it wouldn’t suit the story as of right now. From an actual architectural standpoint, it also makes very little sense.

When she gets there, it quickly becomes clear that she’s mostly there as a filler contestant. There’s about ten or so people there who seem actual candidates, from what Lillian can gather without there having been an official introduction round, but the ten are in turn actually terrible criminals with no qualms about murder. The king, partly because of his cruel streak, partly because he’s not actually that dumb, knows it’ll be more intimidating to say you chose your champion after having the most brutal criminals in the land slaughter each other for the honor of serving their king. Lillian bands together with a couple of other candidates who’re more on the weak side. The three of them know that they’ll probably die, but decide to try and help each other survive either way.

Still, Lillian is a noble woman, who, up until now, has been leading a pretty sheltered life. The fact that she might die terrifies her, and she has a breakdown about it in her room. Her servants and the guard posted outside of her room (she only has one, as she isn’t a very big threat to anyone) feel bad for her. Enter Chaol, who in this story starts out as just a regular guard. He offers to tutor her, if he is given permission to do so. Lillian accepts, knowing she has no chance against her opponents but hoping the lessons will soothe her a little bit.

Chaol, who isn’t even given permission to see the king, ends up meeting Dorian face to face by coincidence. Dorian gives him permission to train Lillian during the evenings (for whatever reason, I haven’t figured out all of the character motivations yet).

The following morning, there is a court gathering. Some of the competitors (mostly women) are invited. At the gathering, Lillian ends up standing out; she is rather pretty and she knows how to enhance her beauty by dressing well, gaining a lot of attention for it. She speaks to Kaltain and Nehemia, surprising them both by knowing the Eyllwe tongue. The three of them chat a little in Eyllwe, before Lillian knows who Nehemia really is. Kaltain, who is used to the ways of court, warns Lillian about standing out once she reveals that she is a competitor. Lillian, now suddenly aware of all the eyes glued to her, makes a hasty (but discreet) exit.

She does not know her way around the castle, and ends up stumbling into a secret passage. Terrified of where they might take her, she tries her best to find a way out again, but she is lost and doesn’t know where she is going. Instead, she stumbles into a room she has never seen before, where she finds a woman whose feet are shackled to the floor. 

Lillian learns that this woman is Celaena Sardothien, after some conversation. Celaena seems to be less interested in Lillian and the competition that she is in her garden; in her room, she has a small collection of pots from which various plants are growing. The two come to a sort of understanding, and before Lillian leaves (she’s afraid of being caught in there), Celaena says that she’ll offer Lillian advice and help in exchange for favors and asks Lillian to consider.

The next day is mostly dedicated to training. Insert some Witty Banter™ and flirting here. Lillian and Chaol do get along very well. It’s clear (at least to the reader) that they’re both interested in each other. Lillian, without mentioning Celaena, asks Chaol if he thinks it’s right of her to do things that might be bad in order to survive this ordeal. When he says that yes, he thinks she deserves to survive, she decides to go along with Celaena’s request.

She goes back again that night, as quietly and carefully as she can. Celaena reveals that the King intends for her to compete to be his champion. She also reveals that she, too, is only there as canon fodder. The story is much more interesting if the king’s champion defeated the strongest assassin in the land, after all. She goes on to tell Lillian that physically, there is no way either of them are strongest. Celaena worries that the final test will be a fight to the death between her and whoever the king will pick, a match she’ll have no chance of winning after a year in Endovier. She isn’t worried about Lillian’s fate: Doing dirty work like this is about competence, first and foremost, with “dirty” being the keyword. They’re criminals, the bad guys, the scum of society; the king doesn't need or want them to play by the rules. Celaena believes this can help Lillian survive.

The next day, the first test takes place. It’s a race to capture the flag, strapped to the top of a large tower. Lillian freaks out, as there’s no way she can climb that tower. With her squad of underdogs, she recalls Celaena’s words about not playing fair, and realizes that the winner of the contest is the one that delivers the flag to the judge first. Through some quick scheming, the three manage to get the flag after Celaena brought it down, and one of them (not Lillian, though, she chooses not to pick up the flag when she has her shot) ends up being the one to win.

Chaol trains with her again that evening. One of his superiors find them, and while Chaol isn’t not allowed to train her, he gets in hot water as he is dragged away by the other guard. Lillian heads up to her room, only to be woken in the middle of the night by screaming and angry yelling, before there’s desperate pounding on her door. She knows she’s safer if she stays in her room, Celaena’s voice echoing in her head, so she doesn’t open it, feeling like a coward. Eventually, she falls asleep, still shaking beneath the covers.

The next day, it is revealed that one of the actual good competitors killed the friend of Lillian who won the first test, as well as a few guards before Chaol managed to grapple him from the back. The chaos that erupted was partially because the guards realized they had no idea where the king was. It truly dawns on Lillian that her life is in danger. Finding a quiet corner to break down, Kaltain and Nehemia finds and comforts her. Lillian confesses that she blames herself for the murder of her friend, since she helped her win. Nehemia tells her that it’s nothing she could have done about it, and that she herself has had similar feelings. As the youngest royal child of her country, she wielded little political power, and was unable to do anything when Adarlan invaded. She feels guilt for being useless.

She heads up to Celaena that evening, partially to seek validation for not trying to help (Lillian doesn’t outright admit it to herself, but she knows). It’s never discussed as she sees Celaena’s bruised face. The king visited her last night, angry at her for losing the flag to Lillian’s friend. She seems more upset that he ruined all of her flowers, especially taking care to rip the rarest of them apart with his own hands. A strange and very rare plant, rarely found outside what Celaena calls “her homeland.” Lillian can’t decide whether Celaena genuinely cares more about that flower than herself, or if she is redirecting her attention to something else so as to not think about the king, but either way Lillian decides not to pressure Celaena into talking. Celaena eventually asks Lillian if she could secure her a meeting with Nehemia, having heard that they were spotted together at court.

The next test comes a few days later. Lillian tries fading into the background along with her remaining ally. It’s a simple archery test. Lillian can’t figure out how she would play dirty in such a scenario, and ends up coming in dead last. Chaos finds her afterwards, asks her if she is alright, and informs her that he can’t train her anymore; because of him catching the murderer, his superior was impressed and gave him the reins for the investigations. This might be his chance to climb the ladder.

Nehemia has, with the help of Kaltain, gotten much better at speaking the language of Adarlan. Kaltain and Lillian, for some reason, manage to get Celaena an audience with her. Nehemia seems shaken when she comes out, and when asked by Kaltain what has her so shaken, Nehemia tells them that Celaena is planning on becoming “the next king’s champion,” to which Kaltain corrects her gently (“The king’s next champion, my dear”). Nehemia doesn't react to it at all, in contrast to her usual fondness for learning, but simply leaves, still pale and stiff. Lillian sneaks in, demanding to know what Celaena said that upset Nehemia so. Celaena doesn't answer, instead suggesting that since Chaol now is rising in rank, Lillian would do well to get “friendlier” with him. Lillian storms off.

The third test takes place, and Lillian somehow wins. Fearing for her life, she seeks out Chaol, again thinking of Celaena’s words. It disgusts her that while yes, she likes Chaol, she did seek him out for the sole purpose of gaining both his affection and protection. He managed to find out how the competitor escaped from his chambers (or something), and got promoted.

I’m getting a bit lazy now, but things happen and Celaena requests an audience with Dorian this time. Lillian goes through Chaos to get to Dorian. Dorian, unlike Nehemia, doesn’t seem as shaken after his audience with Celaena. After a little digging, Lillian finds out that Dorian was the one who proposed the idea of Celaena being a competitor in the first place, as well as the one who agreed to get her a little garden (it was the only thing she requested). He hasn’t gone back to see her since, apparently being a little intimidated by her.

The king has grown mad/angry with more and more of the contestants. Lillian, who actually won a test, barely mangled to escape from his ire. After a fourth test, in which Lillian purposefully fails and Celaena wins a second time, Chaol realizes that Lillian has been using him and ends their friendship. It is afterwards discovered that a second competitor escaped during the fourth test, resulting in something close to a “lockdown” in the castle.

When the king is found dead in his chamber, panic erupts. Chaol, once again, finds and captures the escaped competitor–alive, this time. Lillian asks for permission to see them, and it turns out to be her friend (whom she drifted apart from during the competition, as she became more focused on herself and not dying). They swear that they didn’t kill the king, and Lillian knows they didn’t. Celaena’s lessons about playing dirty rings through her head and it’s no doubt about who killed the king. Lillian deduces that it might have been some kind of poison that led the king to his death, thinking of Celaena’s garden and how the king destroyed it himself in order to make her suffer. Fearing her wrath, however, Lillian doesn’t say anything, instead wishing to confront Celaena afterwards.

Upon confronting Celaena the next day, she is unwilling to say anything about anything. Lillian figures some things out on her own, e.g. that Celaena always planned to escape, killing the guards with the poison she could get from the plants and whatever else she could get her hands on. For some reason, Celaena changed course, seeing an opportunity to get some actual power and using Lillian as a pawn in a much larger scheme (Lillian probs already had her suspicions about this, though she did as Celaena asked, considering it in the long run seemed to be a mutually beneficial relationship). As Lillian is there, Dorian shows up with Chaol and another guard. Chaol is furious as he sees Celaena and Lillian together, but Dorian tells him to stand back and that he while seeing her there right now was a surprise, it was as good as time as any to reveal that he knew that Celaena was going to have his father murdered, and that 1. he looked the other way, therefore indirectly helping, or 2. the poison never worked and Dorian did it himself (depending on whichever would make Dorian not completely unlikable, it’s meant to have been a moral dilemma for him).

More things happen, Dorian is crowned and gets engaged, Nehemia stays as a representative for her country and an ally of Celaena, yada yada yada. There’s drama here towards the end, especially between Dorian soon-to-be-king and Celaena I-got-you-to-where-you-are-now-you-owe-me. Again, this would be a bit more nuanced than if I wasn't just roughly outlining the concept.

Finally, Dorian declares that the competitors are pardoned. Lillian prepares to go back to her family as Celaena calls on her again. They don’t meet in Celaena’s chambers, but somewhere else, where a certain white-haired merchant is waiting alongside Celaena. He reveals his true name to be Rowan and that he was working with Celaena all along (he didn’t actually give a shit about that ring). Through some Quality Banter™ and intriguing and mysterious wording, Celaena reveals that Lillian is, in fact, the lost princess Aelin Galathynius and that if she wants to live, she has to go with Rowan right away. Lillian, for some reason, answers yes almost immediately, wondering to herself whether she said yes for survival’s sake or something else. (Dun dun dun do I sense a sequel in the distance?)

And that’s it. I hope you enjoyed my word-vomit of an outline folks.