#Farewell Recital

[opera-ghosts]

Lotte Lehmann; "An die Musik"; (NY Farewell Recital 1951); Franz Schubert

An die Musik … Franz Schubert died in Vienna 195 years ago today.

[nymfaia]

HAURCHEFANT ; ANCIENT VERSE.

Svalinn is most known for how keenly Azem speaks of them: a being with a gilded tongue and a golden heart that could rival the very sun. While decidedly not a member of the Convocation or their close inner circle, his name tends to be familiar to most of those in Amaurot, especially those closely tied to the creation of arts:

He is the author of many and more of the oldest pieces of poetry, the rhymes and rhythms that those across shards remember but cannot place the beginning of. While most of it has been recreated and credited to others across the history of the shards, many of them echo what was once common reading in the Ancients.

He and Azem had a bond like no other. While they traveled on occasion, Svalinn held little power - metaphorically or literally - to truly embark on his own. He wished to see the world, but feared weighing down the one truly meant to do so: and as a result, he wrote.

Most of his works are wholly inspired by the traveler themselves and the tales they shared with him, and are - to everyone but himself - blatantly things created from love, both of them and of the world itself.

While he has likely been invited to speak at conferences or contribute to the Bureau on an official manner, Svalinn has consistently refused to be recognized officially as anything but a man with too many words and not enough time. Words had little reason to be called his own when anyone else could have pulled them together just the same, he would say sheepishly, and that was that.

(If Azem asked nicely, he may, eyes closed and voice but a whisper, recite the ones he has memorized, the ones that remind him the most of the being that, to him, walked among the very stars and hung the sun in the sky. But only if they asked.)

[chososdiscordkitten]

Kneel.

Synopsis: Priest!Nanami being completely and utterly tormented by nasty thoughts of reader (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Pairing: Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: pwp, plot before porn, catholicism, questioning faith, sooo much guilt, reader is 29, nanami is 34, reader kinda mysterious -.-

MDNI

Nanami’s life as a priest was busy- no time to be bored, nor time to yearn for more. Two or three funerals a month, mass every day- more than twice on Sundays. A handful of weddings a year, the many church groups he would oversee. His schedule was almost always fully booked.

His life was steady- a routine he followed every day. A life he was riding down happily. 

And when that peaceful life hit a bump, Nanami felt his life could be derailed entirely if he allowed it. 

‘I do it for my god.’

‘I do it for my parish.’

That’s what Nanami reminded himself of when your eyes would catch onto his. 

Preaching Sunday mass to the churchgoers- trying to direct his words to everyone. But whenever he did a scan of the room, his eyes stuck onto you for a brief moment.

Unable to shake the split-second thought of how you were the kind of woman he would have talked up in his 20s. He would shoo them aside before his expression could show what he was thinking. Placing his focus on preaching, instead of you.

You, who always sat at the very back of the church hall. And always with a questioning peak on your brow. 

But only you never stayed long enough after the service was over for him to properly introduce himself. Always walking out the minute the church-goers stood up to bid farewell to their neighbors. 

Even if he was held back by shaking hands- praising him for such a wonderful sermon. Nanami’s eyes still caught a glimpse of you that left the giant wooden doors of the church. Even more so, the clicking of heels against the tile- proud steps away from him as though you had completed your task.

Never did you stand for the sacramental wine nor the offering of the body of Christ. You only stayed in one of the pews at the very back and watched the line of merry people take them from his hands. A tilted head in curiosity with a small smile, as though you were poking fun at them in your mind. 

Day by day, sermon by sermon, you started inching towards him. One pew after the other. And when he finally noticed how close you had gotten, a mere 4 benches away from him. Nanami could see you up close now- the revealing collarbone that stood prominent with every inhale you took, the curve of your neck when you tilted it to the side. And every slight squint you would make as he spoke. 

Seeing you from a distance was one thing- being able to hide his catching gaze whenever he would address the flock. 

But now, he could see you even closer, his eyes catching onto how your lips would slightly purse. Almost in disbelief—when he would recite direct words from the Bible. Caused him to stutter over his words, excusing himself quickly before continuing. 

The part that made his mind reel was the congregation avoiding you. As though you weren’t even there. And Nanami knew this was impossible. A beautifully haunting churchgoer would’ve been swarmed by the single men of the church. 

But to you, they never mattered. Always swatting them away with one harsh look- at times, the aura you held was enough for them to steer clear. And the women of the flock didn’t find it very church-like that you did not greet them upon entry nor bid goodbye to your neighbors when the service was over. 

And the blatant isolation only made Nanami worry- knowing the church’s people can be judgemental at times. 

The Father blamed his priest nature for wanting to introduce himself. Knowing you had been attending for a few weeks now, and wanting to see if you were finding your way in the congregation.

Seven years wearing the white collar made Nanami think he had some sense when it came to acknowledging a troubled soul. However, the unfazed expression you would hold as he spoke and the slight look back at him when you would leave the church, left the man more troubled than you could ever be. 

At once, while he was speaking- preaching the words he carefully chose from the good book. Nanami’s eyes caught onto yours. Stuttering over his words as he watched you raise a brow and tilt your head, all with a vexing smile on your painted lips. 

As though you were taunting him for the stumbling, he saw it in the way you looked at him. Nanami felt your gaze on his skin as he spoke. Felt it burn into him with every word.

And when you finally lined up with the others during the eucharist. His jaw clenched, a sprinkle of nerves coating his hands as he watched glimpses of you through the line of people. Even lined up- you stood out. 

As you came closer to him with every person he gave the small wafer to, Nanami felt his heart start to pound. Never spoken to you- never even introduced himself. And his heart was racing. 

When you stood before him; Thick eyelashes and plump lips greeted him with a small smile. 

Blinking softly and looking up at him, parting your mouth and pressing the tip of your tongue to your bottom lip. Nanami inhaled, his hand lightly trembling as he held the little cookie. 

Looking into his eyes as he placed the weightless wafer to your bottom lip. His adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp, watching you pull the wafer into your mouth with a grin before leaving the line. 

The interaction wasn’t longer than a second- but it shook the Father to his core. Knowing that for the first time in the seven years of being in the priesthood, the first time since he was ordained– he had questioned his faith. 

For the rest of the mass, Nanami couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. With every blink, he saw a flash of you, softly batting your eyelashes up at him with your lips parted. Even more so when he would scan the audience and see your face, a smirk on your expression, as though you were aware of the torment you had inflicted on the priest. 

Nanami didn’t know what brewed in his soul; he had no clue what called him to you. Why you were so tempting. 

That evening, when the large room was emptied. The Father prayed. He prayed and repented for the wisping thoughts that dared enter his mind. 

‘Let me help this woman,’ he prayed, ‘Let me help you find your way.’ as though he was speaking to you directly, unaware of what plagued you or why you ended up in the church's halls. 

Pleading with the ethereal being in the clouds to help him. To help him see why you were put before him. And what lesson you were meant to teach him. 

Even as he was preaching the words written in the Bible. He would pray in his mind- begging the Lord to rid him of the plaguing thoughts of you.

When he would kneel, close his eyes, hold his hands together against his lips and pray to his god; Nanami always expected some divine insight to race into his mind once he rose from his knees. He always hoped his god would tell him how to fix his issues. 

And so far, it had been a one-sided conversation. 

Tuesdays were spent sitting on the uncomfortable wooden confessional bench, hearing the same issues the regular churchgoers would come to confess. 

‘Anger, gluttony, greed.’

It was always the same—the same menial sins from the same people. Nanami often wondered if they had not tired from the repetitiveness. If they were not as exhausted as he was from listening to the problems they refused to fix. 

After the last regular left the booth, Nanami checked his watch. Noting there was only 20 minutes before 6pm. Part of him wanted to leave the booth then and there. Lock the doors of the church and continue his work in the office. 

But something told him to stay. 

Knowing he was right as he heard the heavy doors open, and the light clacking of heels hitting tile. Getting closer and closer as the Father awaited the curtain next to him to open. 

He cleared his throat as he heard someone ease onto the wooden bench. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” he spoke, hearing your voice whisper an ‘amen’ along with him. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” 

Nanami closed his eyes- almost in pain hearing your voice ring through his ears. 

Silk and smooth as he expected. “It has been 14 years since my last confession.” your tone conveying a small smile- the same grin you would have on your lips during mass. 

The man couldn’t speak- his cheeks ran with slight tingles as he heard you. 

“I’ve committed a handful of sins, Father. I don’t know where to start.” tilting your head to the side and awaiting the mans guidance. 

He inhaled, shaking off the feeling of thinking it was you behind the screen. “Of all of them, which seems to be the one that weighs on you most?” his tone was steady- stark contrast to his pained expression. 

“The one that plagues me most-” lightly humming, almost taunting him as you thought. “May I be honest?” you spoke- hearing quiet shifting beside you. 

“Of course. Please- be honest.” Nanami urged, eager to know why you were placed in his path. Why you. 

The grin that arose on your cheeks was one that shouldn’t have. “I have been lusting after a man I shouldn’t be.” You spoke with a light rasp in your tone. Proud shoulders, not daring to falter their posture. 

Nanami clenched his jaw. Pondering if he genuinely wanted to tread through these waters. 

“I have thought vile things while in his presence.” spoken just shy of a whisper- loud enough for him to hear. “I try tempting him.” 

It wasn’t your words- nor the sultry tone you took that bothered the Father. It was how callous they fell from your lips. How easily you admitted these sins and how unapologetic you sounded. 

Even if you had not physically done anything— the sins were only committed in your mind—your confession showed him you were on the steps to show some kind of penance. 

“Do you know the ‘Act of contrition’ prayer?” Nanami asked, hoping the words would bring him back to stable ground. 

“I do.” you spoke softly, awaiting his instructions. 

Gulping softly, “Kneel.” he commanded, his tone sending a direct spike of warmth down your spine. 

Slowly shifting onto the ground, placing your elbows onto the wooden seat, and interlocking your fingers together. “Pray.” the Father spoke in a curt breath, his tone all but begging you to. 

You closed your eyes. “My God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee,” softly reciting the prayer as the Father mouthed the words as you spoke them. 

Even as you recited the rest of the prayer- instead of helping, this only fed the rot growing in Nanami’s brain. Now, knowing you were aware enough of Catholicism and still thought of vile things, he refused to imagine.

And as he recited a prayer of absolution- he begged in his mind for you to pray for him as well.

Pray for him to find the strength to keep the box of carnal thoughts he locked away when he was anointed at bay. 

Even if the priest didn’t believe it, “God has freed you from your sins,” he said. “Go in peace.” knowing that, as it was on Sundays, you would go in peace, whereas Nanami would be left more troubled than when he started. 

And as he heard your voice whisper, ‘Thank you Father.’ before the clacking of heels descended onto the tiles. The thoughts inside that locked box dared to reawaken themselves. 

Thoughts he reserved only for his early twenties, no longer having the right to access them now. But you- you shoved the reservations aside. Made room for yourself in his mind- what plagued him most was how unsure he was if it really was you behind the wooden fence of the booth.

Nanami would be lying if he said he had never prayed as hard as he did once you left the confession box. Making sure to lock the church doors and light a candle. 

Standing at the center of the aisle, the statue of his god looking down at him with tears in his eyes. As though his god was disappointed in him.

Nanami fell to his knees, defeated and scared of what was planted into his brain. 

And as he started his prayer, the words sounded as though he was asking for mercy. Pleading with his god to forgive him, to rid him of you and the infiltrating things he pictured as you spoke. He begged for help on his hands and knees- even a light tear leaving his closed eye. 

Sunday’s morning mass came and went. Nerves filled his hands as he awaited the afternoon mass to start. 

Nanami awaited you- his eyes locking onto the door anytime it opened. He held off the mass as long as he could. And the realization that you were not showing up affected him more than it should have. 

And when afternoon mass started, he thought it might’ve been his fault. Had he assisted you better in your confession, maybe you would have shown up. 

Nanami made up a handful of excuses on your behalf, that you were sick- or just busy.

But none of them were true. None of the excuses Nanami made up satisfied him enough to still his mind. 

And as he was gathering his belongings from the lectern, the church empty and dim as he accumulated his thoughts. The sound of the large doors opening caused him to look up. 

The figure of you walking down the aisle in his direction, calf-length black dress and the same black heels that clacked against the tile. your cheeks lightly damp from the heavy rain that echoed through the halls.

Even dressed modestly- the sight of you still troubled the man. 

Nanami knew it was only you, him, and his god in that room now. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to use the congregation as an excuse to look away. 

He parted his lips to speak, only you spoke faster than he could- “Father, I was hoping we could talk.” a low tone- different from the one you used when you sat in the confessional. But speaking with the same ease that he heard the last time, it made him realize that ‘anonymous’ confession wasn’t anonymous anymore. Nanami was sure it was you now. 

And as though his prayers worked- your face looked almost remorseful. 

“Not as a confession.” you reiterated, causing the man to gulp lightly and try to gather his thoughts. “Just to talk.” 

Ending up sitting in his office- a small room at the very back of the church. Small windows being pelted with heavy raindrops.

Set up in the same way a principal’s office would be. Sitting across from him, desk separating you from the priest. 

Even if he sat in the chair that technically held the power- the aura that surrounded you made a chill run down his spine when he eased into his chair. 

“How are you finding the congregation?” he asked, words he had been thinking since he noticed your seclusion. And being able to ask you without worrying it wasn't you sitting beside him. 

Crossing your ankles and lightly easing onto the arm of the chair, you softly smiled, “The people are kind. I know I can sometimes come off standoffish; they still try.” 

Nanami felt a tension in his throat, as if he had taken an overly large bite of a meal he wasn’t ready for. “I had noticed you had not engaged with the others.”  

“Did you?” you asked- taking on that little upturn in your tone. Your low eyes watch the man before you gulp. The white collar became tight from the words that sounded all too tantalizing than they should have. 

“It made me worry.” he looked down at the calendar on his desk- full of black pen marks of that month’s activities. 

You lightly furrowed your eyebrows, “Worry?” 

“Worry that you weren’t finding your way in the church.” he reiterated, trying to shake away the nerves and make this as you asked. Just a talk. 

Nanami wanted to bring up your confession- he needed to know why you wanted to tempt a man. He wanted to know if you were speaking of him. 

“When I see you leave immediately after the service,” he continued, feeling the light searing your gaze onto his skin. 

“I never had the chance to properly introduce myself-” he spoke, flashing his eyes at you. 

“Do you introduce yourself to every new church member, Father?” You asked, words that almost made the man cough. 

“I try to.” he admitted. Even if every cell in his brain told him to lie- to say ‘Yes, I do.’ 

“I imagine it’s quite difficult- so many people.” you thrummed, softly turning your head to the side and looking at the walls. Decorated with old paintings that had been hung there long before Nanami had been anointed. 

His mind reeling with questions a priest shouldn't ask a member of his flock.

“I am.” you hummed, looking back at the man whose eyes widened slightly. Unsure if you had heard his thoughts or- “Finding my way in the church.” elaborating on his confusion. 

“Were you raised catholic?”

The little grin that rose on your cheeks should’ve told him everything, but it only caused more confusion for the man. “I was,” you mumbled, looking at the body language he held as he sat. 

Tense broad shoulders that made your thighs press together whenever your eyes caught them. A furrowed brow that would twitch when you started speaking. “Around 16 or so, I left the church.” 

“And what brought you back?” he spoke—clearer and without fault. He aimed his intentions at helping you instead of trying to aid his wandering conscious. 

Looking down to your hands, “When I moved back here- something told me to come see the church.” lightly shifting in the chair as you spoke, “Imagine my surprise when I saw a priest I wasn’t expecting, walk before the congregation.” 

He took those words as a negative- as though you were disappointed that he greeted you and not another priest. 

“Were you raised in the church?” you asked softly, watching his eyebrows pinch in the slightest. 

He took a light breath- “I was.” nodding softly and recalling the memories of his youth. There was a small silence- waiting for him to continue as he expected your voice to speak up. Knowing this was to counsel you- not the other way around. 

“Continue, Father, please.” watching his eyes squint and think on it. 

Lightly clenching his teeth, he said, “I went to an all-boys Catholic school.” He softly blinked, looking down at his hands.  

“So you always wanted to be a priest?” you asked, the question coming off more sarcastic than genuine. 

He scoffed with a small hearty laugh- clearing his throat and sitting up. “No- no, I didn’t want to join the priesthood until I was 23.” he elaborated, watching you softly nod. 

“What made you turn back to religion?” repeating the question he had asked you earlier, only with a more seductive tone.

‘Because of haunting women like you.’ was all he could think as you awaited his answer. 

“I wanted to help people—I want. To help,” he said, words he hoped you would hear and pick up on his urge to assist you. 

In your mind, a sneering comment flashing in red- 'You want to help?' almost like a challenge.

“When I came to confess earlier this week-” you brought it up. That’s what Nanami held onto in his mind. You brought it up. He didn’t. 

“I still felt plagued by what I spoke to you about, father.” looking at him with a sprinkle of feigned sincerity in your eyes. 

Only to the man before you- that false sincerity was seen as an urge to rid yourself of your sins. 

His face was still- unshowing any emotion that throbbed in his mind. And you took it as him not remembering. “I recited the prayer of contrition,” you spoke- some attempts to remind him. 

Only the Father knew precisely what you were referring to. “I remember.” he assured, softly nodding and allowing you to continue. 

“After- I felt even worse.” Bowing your head to hide the smile on your cheeks as you toyed with your hands. “They didn’t stop after I left- if anything,” the words spilled from your lips, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin from what you were insinuating. 

“They got worse- more filthy; once I left, Father.” your expression hidden from him- and your tone soft, hinting that this indeed plagued you. 

You sighed, “It was unbearable.” accentuating the word with a pained tone. Smiling to yourself, “I’m sure you know the feeling, Father- as though one light breeze would make you combust at that moment.” 

 “I couldn’t even bring myself to come-” Nanami’s hand dared to clench at your words, “-to Mass this morning; that’s how shameful I felt.”

Answering Nanami’s question without having to ask it- “I thought it would be less frowned upon if I stepped into the church after mass.” 

Nanami gulped at the insinuation- all too fearful of what you spoke of. “Have you prayed on this?” he asked, air threatening to choke his words. 

Looking up at him with pinched brows, lips parted ever so slightly. “I have never prayed so much in my life before this.” 

Your words conflicted with. If you were so godly and sure of Catholicism. Why do your eyes tell him another story? Why do your eyes glimmer with hints of intent- as though you were looking at prey?

“Why do you think these thoughts have yet to leave you?” he spoke- words he said as a priest but meant as a person. 

“I think a masochistic part of me urges me to continue returning to the cause.” Words that rung true in his ears- knowing that he was the same. That, he very much could have excused you- tell you he was busy or that he could not talk at that moment. 

But the same as you, Nanami allowed himself to allow you access to him. The excuse of closure and the urge to help, used to defend himself to the god above him. 

Spoken in a whisper, “Like an itch I can’t scratch.” the Father started contemplating how far it would be if he admitted to the same thing- how bad it would truly be, if he confessed that the very same thing had plagued him.

Nanami was about to part his lips to speak- but the little reminder on his phone rang beside him. Looking down and seeing it- a parish meeting. “Maybe we should continue this next week.” he spoke- almost relieved that he would be able to escort you from the room thick with tension. 

“Have I taken too much of your time, father?” you asked- voice churned with the slightest hint of false distress. 

Nanami inhaled- “Not at all.” with a smile, “I just have a parish meeting in a few minutes.” he excused. Pushing his chair back and standing. 

And as he walked you past the church’s pew benches- a few inches to your side. “How does next Sunday sound?” he spoke, a low tone laced with the tiniest hit of smugness.

Shoes clicking against the tile as he walked. And as you turned your head over to him, a mindless hand was placed on your back. The lightest touch guiding you towards the door. 

“Sunday is perfect, Father.” you mumbled, watching his hand open the large door and await you to step out. 

And as he watched you leave his church- he almost closed his eyes in relief. 

Thinking of the movement Nanami hadn’t made since his days in college- a little action he would use on the opposite gender. It flustered him more now than it ever did. 

Life as a priest didn’t require him to touch women- ever so often holding their hands in his as they spoke to him. A handshake, a side hug from the overly enthusiastic housewives after his services. 

But that touch- the feeling of your back pressed against his palm. It sent shocks of fear mixed with excitement down his spine. 

During the entire parish meeting; the Father’s mind was fogged. Unsure what he was getting into- or why he was so determined to walk head first into this. Even if it was you who caused him to contemplate his life in the priesthood. 

Nanami would help you find your way, even if it killed him trying to. Reminding himself of the words in his mind. 

‘I do it for my god.'

'I do it for my parish.’

-

PT 2

(a.n) ....hehe

[basset-babe]

five times: the one point five.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: none but gossip yet again

word count: 2.9k+

a/n: please do send me a message or comment down if you would like to be added on the succeeding taglists for the five times series! here is 1.5 times with ben. enjoy! thanks loves <3! (also, pls do imagine ben holding a graft rose for this one heh)

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the fourth. at last. text divider from @heavenlayt and pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!

the one point five time.

In the hours of sunlight, callers have flooded the Y/L/N drawing room. All bringing gifts and performances in hopes to win the favourable yes of the season's paragon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. The grand parlor, adorned with exquisite tapestries and sparkling chandeliers, buzzed with the lively hum of conversations and the tinkling laughter of society’s elite. Lavish bouquets of rare, fragrant flowers filled the room, their heady scent mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed tea and delectable pastries arrayed on silver platters.

Gentlemen, dressed in their finest attire, lined up to present their offerings to Miss Y/L/N, each one more extravagant than the last. Some brought intricate jewelry, glittering with precious stones, while others offered rare books, hoping to appeal to her reputed love of literature. Musicians performed virtuoso pieces on the grand piano, their fingers dancing over the keys in a bid to capture her attention through the power of melody. Poets recited verses composed in her honor, their words dripping with adoration and longing.

Miss Y/L/N, the epitome of grace and poise, received each suitor with a warm smile and a gracious word. Her eyes, sparkling with intelligence and kindness, moved across the room, acknowledging the efforts and intentions of each visitor. Her charm was such that even a simple nod or a softly spoken thank you felt like a cherished treasure to the eager suitors.

The hour had struck past 1 in the afternoon when, hopefully, the last caller of the day had bid his farewells. The Y/L/N drawing room, which had been a whirlwind of activity, now began to settle into a quieter, more contemplative atmosphere. The sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a bright hue over the room, highlighting the opulent furnishings and the array of gifts that had been presented to Miss Y/N Y/L/N throughout the morning.

Servants moved gracefully, clearing away the remnants of the lavish spread of refreshments while ensuring that every detail of the room remained immaculate. The air was still fragrant with the scent of roses, lilies, and other exotic flowers that had been brought by admirers, creating a heady, almost intoxicating environment.

"As much as I do love botanicals, all these flowers have turned obnoxious to my senses, Grandmama," Y/N sighed, feeling the urge to slouch on the couch. Her frame was poised elegantly despite her weariness, a testament to her upbringing and the endless etiquette lessons she had endured.

Her grandmother, the Viscountess Y/L/N, reentered the room with a look of satisfaction mixed with maternal concern. "My dear," she said softly, "you have conducted yourself admirably. The attention you have garnered is truly remarkable, but alas, this be the trials of being the season's paragon," she said with jest. "A small price to pay for such adoration and the opportunities it presents."

Y/N allowed herself a small, rueful smile. "It has been a most eventful day. I do hope I have shown the proper appreciation to each caller." She gently plucked a stray petal from her gown, its soft texture a stark contrast to her current mood.

"Rest assured, my dear, that this too shall pass," her grandmother replied soothingly. "Soon, you will look back on these days with fondness, perhaps even in laughter."

Y/N nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced. She admired her grandmother's ability to see the positive in any situation. Lady Y/L/N had once been the toast of her own social season, and her wisdom was hard-earned through years of navigating similar waters.

"Would it be terribly improper to open a window, Grandmama?" Y/N asked, her eyes drifting towards the heavy drapes that concealed the afternoon breeze. "I believe a bit of fresh air might revive my spirits."

The Viscountess chuckled softly. "Not at all, my dear. In fact, I think it would do us both good." She motioned to a nearby maid, who quickly moved to pull back the drapes and open the window, allowing a refreshing breeze to sweep into the room. The cool air carried with it the scents of the garden outside, a welcome contrast to the overwhelming floral arrangements within.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling instantly more at ease. "Thank you, Grandmama. That is much better."

"Now, my dear," Mrs. Y/L/N said, her tone becoming more serious, "while you have a moment of peace, tell me—was there any caller today who truly caught your eye?"

Y/N considered the question carefully. There had been many suitors, each with their own merits. Some had been charming, others earnest, and a few rather boastful. But it was not that she minded all these suitors; it was who she looked forward to that truly occupied her thoughts. It had been this Bridgerton man she'd hoped would be calling on her the entire morning. Unfortunately, he had not been seen yet in this drawing room.

"Y/N, my dear, are you still with us?" Lady Y/L/N's gentle voice broke through her reverie.

"Yes, Grandmama," Y/N replied, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I was merely thinking."

"About anyone in particular?" her grandmother inquired with a knowing smile.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no point in hiding her thoughts from her perceptive grandmother. "To be quite honest, I was hoping to see Mr. Bridgerton today.. well as of this morn," she admitted. "I fear he may have been otherwise engaged."

"Ah, Mr. Bridgerton," Lady Y/L/N said thoughtfully. "A fine young man, from a respected family. It is no wonder you look forward to his call. Perhaps he will still make an appearance."

Y/N nodded, though she knew the likelihood was slim as the noon wore on. She took another deep breath of the fresh air now circulating through the room, trying to shake off her disappointment. The season was long, and there would be other opportunities to see him again.

"There was Sir Nicholas Deveraeux. He was quite charming," Y/N remarked.

"He comes from a good family as well, but I've heard his uncle," Her grandmother leaned in conspiratorially, "envies the crown."

Y/N laughed at the Viscountess' antics. "Grandmama, that's quite scandalous. Wherever did you hear such a thing?" Y/N laughed.

"Deborah told me," her grandmother said, motioning to her maid. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the notion of her grandmama indulging in gossip. "But I must tell you, I keep my options open still," she stated matter-of-factly, regaining my composure.

"Even though you are clearly captivated by Mr. Bridgerton's smile," Her grandmother teased. "It is wise to keep your options open, my dear, so as not to appear too eager for any one gentleman's attentions."

"Indeed," Y/N thought to herself, "it is prudent not to seem desperate and helpless this early in the season. After all, the season is just beginning, and there will be many more opportunities for maybe much more meaningful encounters."

The older woman patted the young lady's hand reassuringly. "You are a clever girl, my Y/N. Your charm and grace will surely attract many suitors. Just remember to enjoy the process and not to place all your hopes on one gentleman, no matter how enchanting his smile may be."

Y/N nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. The season was an adventure, and she was ready to embrace it with an open heart and mind. As her grandmama said, there would be many chances to find the right match, and she intends to savor every moment.

Just as she was about to resign herself to the wait, a soft knock sounded at the drawing room door. Both Y/N and her grandmother turned their heads in surprise as the butler entered.

"Forgive the interruption, ma'am," he said with a slight bow. "But there is one more caller who has just arrived."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as the butler stepped aside, revealing none other than Mr. Bridgerton himself. He stood at the threshold, his confident demeanor softened by a warm, sincere smile.

"Good afternoon, Lady Y/L/N, Miss Y/L/N," he greeted them, bowing respectfully. "I apologize for my tardiness. I hope I am not intruding."

Lady Y/L/N's eyes twinkled with amusement as she replied, "Not at all, Mr. Bridgerton. We are delighted to see you."

Y/N felt her spirits lift instantly, her earlier fatigue forgotten. "Indeed, Mr. Bridgerton," she said, her smile reflecting the genuine pleasure she felt. "Your timing is impeccable."

Mr. Bridgerton's eyes met hers, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. "I am glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N," he said. "I have been looking forward to our meeting."

As he stepped further into the room, bringing with him an air of warmth and possibility, Y/N knew that this visit was just the beginning. The season held many uncertainties, but in that moment, with Mr. Bridgerton's presence brightening the drawing room, she felt a renewed sense of hope and excitement for what was to come.

He walked closer, offering his wrapped gift with a warm smile. "I know of your love of botanicals. Although, I wasn't sure what to get, but I opted for a grafted Rosa Falstaff from our estate's own gardens."

Y/N's eyes widened with surprise and delight as she reached out to accept the potted rose. "A Rosa Falstaff? From your family's gardens?" she exclaimed, her fingers gently tracing the leaves and delicate blooms.

"Yes," Benedict nodded, his gaze softening as he watched her reaction. "I thought it would be a fitting addition to your collection, considering your fondness for floriculture."

"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. This is truly truly thoughtful of you." Y/N's eyes lit up as she accepted the graft, appreciating the gesture.

Mr. Bridgerton smiled, a hint of relief and pleasure in his eyes. "I'm glad you like them, Miss Y/L/N. I thought something from home might be more personal and meaningful than the usual offerings."

Mrs. Y/L/N, observing the interaction with a pleased expression, decided to give the young couple some space. "If you'll excuse me, I have some correspondence to attend to," she said, rising gracefully. "Please, Mr. Bridgerton, make yourself comfortable."

As her grandmother left the room, Y/N gestured for Mr. Bridgerton to sit beside her on the elegant settee. "It's so refreshing to receive something so genuine," she said, placing the graft gently on the table beside them. "Tell me more about your estate's gardens. They must be quite beautiful."

Mr. Bridgerton settled into the seat, his expression brightening as he began to speak. "Our gardens are indeed a sight to behold, especially in the spring. We have a variety of flowers, from different roses to lavender, and even some more exotic species like that which my mother is particularly fond of. Each section of the garden has its own unique charm and character."

Y/N listened intently, her interest piqued not just by the subject but by the way he spoke with such genuine affection for his home. "It sounds enchanting," she said. "I would love to see it someday."

He smiled, clearly pleased by her response. "I would be honored to show you around Aubrey Hall, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps you could offer some advice on expanding our collection of botanicals."

"I would be delighted," Y/N replied, her smile matching his. "There are always new species to discover and cultivate. It would be a pleasure to share that with someone who appreciates it as much as I do."

As they continued to talk, the conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on various topics of mutual interest. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them engrossed in their exchange. The connection they felt was palpable, a promising hint of what could be a deep and meaningful relationship.

The noon sun cast a golden glow through the open window, bathing them in warm light. It was as if the world outside had conspired to create the perfect moment, one that Y/N would cherish as the beginning of something truly special.

"Why not a change of scenery, Miss Y/N? May I enchant you to a walk with me this afternoon?" Mr. Bridgerton asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Y/N felt a flutter of excitement at his proposal, though very different from norm indeed. The thought of a leisurely walk, away from the confines of the drawing room and amidst the fresh air and beauty of the outdoors, was undeniably appealing. She glanced at her grandmother, who had discreetly lingered near the doorway.

Mrs. Y/L/N, catching her granddaughter's hopeful expression, gave a subtle nod of approval. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea, Mr. Bridgerton," she said. "A bit of fresh air through my garden will do you both good."

"Thank you, Grandmama," Y/N replied, her smile widening. She turned back to Mr. Bridgerton, her eyes meeting his with a mix of excitement and gratitude. "I would be delighted to join you for a walk."

Mr. Bridgerton offered his arm, which Y/N took with a graceful nod. Together, they made their way out of the drawing room and through the grand halls of the Y/L/N residence. The household staff, now accustomed to the comings and goings of numerous callers, discreetly stepped aside, offering polite smiles as the pair passed.

As they stepped out into the sunlight, the warmth of the afternoon embraced them. The gardens of the Y/L/N estate stretched out before them, a riot of color and fragrance that promised a delightful stroll. Birds chirped melodiously, adding a charming soundtrack to their walk.

"Your gardens are truly beautiful, Miss Y/L/N," Mr. Bridgerton remarked as they began their promenade. "It's easy to see where your love for botanicals comes from."

"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton," Y/N replied, her gaze sweeping over the well-tended flower beds and neatly trimmed hedges. "I find great joy in spending time here. There's something so peaceful about being surrounded by nature."

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, taking in the beauty around them. Y/N's lady's maid chaperoning behind. The gravel path crunched softly underfoot, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead.

"I must admit," Mr. Bridgerton said, breaking the silence, "I was quite nervous about coming here today. I wasn't sure if my gift would be well-received."

Y/N looked up at him, surprised. "You needn't have worried," she assured him. "Your gift was one of the most endearing ones I have received. It speaks volumes about your character and your genuine interest. Quite a change in the morn's most fragrant bouquets. All exquisite but a tad bit too much on my senses." I gestured towards my nose.

He smiled, clearly relieved. "I'm glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N. I hoped to make a meaningful impression."

"You certainly have," she replied warmly. "And now, here we are, enjoying a lovely walk together. It seems your efforts have been rewarded."

As they continued their walk, their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on topics both serious and lighthearted. They shared stories, laughed together, and discovered common interests. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing moment, the bond of friendship and potential courtship becoming more tangible.

"So, do tell me more about you, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Do call me Benedict, if you please. Provided, of course, that you feel comfortable and we are beyond the earshot of your lady's maid." his eyebrows raise in suggestive jest.

Y/N chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Very well, Benedict. You may address me by Y/N as well."

Benedict smiled, clearly pleased by her informal, now more familiar, address. "My days are usually spent at home, but sometimes, I spend my time in my art studio at the academy."

"Yes, you've mentioned of yourself an artist, I remember." Y/N remarked, intrigued. "That is fascinating. What sort of art do you create?"

Benedict's face lit up with enthusiasm as he began to describe his passion. "I work primarily with oils on canvas, though I do enjoy sketching as well. There's something incredibly satisfying about capturing a moment or a feeling in a piece of art. It’s a way to express myself that words sometimes fail to achieve."

Y/N listened intently, her admiration growing. "I would love to see your work someday. It must be wonderful to have such a creative outlet."

"It is," Benedict agreed, a note of pride in his voice. "And I would be honored to show you my studio and some of my pieces. Perhaps I could even paint your portrait, if you would allow me."

Y/N blushed at the thought, a mixture of shyness and excitement. "I would be delighted, Benedict. Though I must warn you, I may not be the most patient of sitters."

Benedict laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’m sure we would manage just fine. And who knows, you might find the experience enjoyable."

"I look forward to it," Y/N said, her smile reflecting her genuine interest. "But tell me more about your family. I have heard much about the Bridgertons, but I would love to hear it from your perspective."

Benedict's expression softened as he spoke of his family. "We are a large, close-knit group. There are eight of us siblings, and we were all raised with a strong sense of duty and love seeing my late father and mother attend to our household. My mother, Violet, is the heart of our family. She has always encouraged us to pursue our passions and support each other."

"That sounds wonderful," Y/N said, touched by his words. "Family is so important. I imagine it must be lively with so many siblings."

"It certainly is," Benedict replied with a grin. "There is never a dull moment at Bridgerton House. We have our share of disagreements, of course, but we always come together in the end. All the laughter and camaraderie make it worthwhile."

Y/N felt a warm connection forming between them, their shared values and interests creating a bond that felt both natural and exciting. "I would love to meet them all someday, even so now that your brother has found himself a wife. Such exciting things!" she said.

"And they would be delighted to meet you," Benedict assured her. "I can already tell that you would fit right in."

"He thinks of me as someone who would fit with his family? I could feel my heart flutter," Y/N thought, the realization sending a warm, thrilling sensation through her.

As they continued their conversation, the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the garden. The hours had slipped away unnoticed, a testament to the ease and enjoyment they found in each other's company.

Eventually the day had struck shy of 3 at afternoon and they made their way back to the main house, the promise of future meetings and shared experiences hanging in the air. As they reached the steps, Benedict turned to Y/N, his expression earnest and hopeful.

"Thank you for a wonderful afternoon, Y/N," he said. "I look forward to our next meeting."

"As do I, Benedict," Y/N replied, her heart full of anticipation. "Until then."

With a final, warm smile, Benedict took his leave, leaving Y/N with a sense of happiness and a fluttering hope for the future. The day had been more than she could have imagined, and she felt a deep sense of gratitude for the connection they had begun to forge.

taglist: @novausstuff @pussyslayerhd @amoosarte

[loguetowns]

the one that (almost) got away

roronoa zoro x fem!reader

it takes him 12 hours to realize

3.6k words

a/n: ok listen, i think i started writing this like 6+ months ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts bc idk how to commit to endings so y’all are gonna have to take this as it is. also i have no concept of how sailing works or how long it takes oops

9:00 pm

“y'know, there's really no point to a farewell party if the one leaving isn't there.”

you look up from your spot on the library floor. your eyes land on the green-haired swordsman leaning against the doorframe and you smile.

“i’ll be there in a second. i just have some more stuff to go through.”

zoro eyes the mess of books surrounding you, recognizing a few of nami’s atlases and robin’s textbooks. “you haven’t finished packing yet?”

“i’m mostly done. i’m just trying to decide which books i want to keep.” catching his eye, you joke, “why? you want me gone that bad?”

crossing the room, a scoff leaves his lips. nothing could be further from the truth.

“you got me. i am so sick of you,” he says with a grin. “can’t wait to get rid of the annoying librarian invading my napping spot.”

zoro plops down on the bench behind you, catching a whiff of your shampoo as he lies down. you sit with your back to him, sorting through your piles, but zoro can hear the smile in your voice when you speak.

“you’re such a pretender, eh?”

zoro puts on a look of overdramatic offense, a hand on his chest. “me? you’re talking about me?”

at his poor acting, you turn around. you rest your chin on the bench, your face so close to zoro’s that one could only describe it as a kissable distance.

“you act like i'm all in your space, but nami told me that you never used to spend any time in here at all!”

“pfft, why would you ever trust what that con artist has to say?” zoro pokes your forehead. “you see it with your own eyes. am i or am i not here every day?”

you purse your lips as you think back to the last few months; he’s right.

you’ve spent most of your days in the ship’s library, and zoro has almost always stopped by. in the beginning, it would be for a few minutes, but over the last little while, he’d be in here as long as you were.

zoro smiles as he watches you think, eyebrows furrowed as you replay the last few months in your head. little do you know that this is exactly why the library is his new hideout. watching your pretty little mind work — doing what you love, thinking and studying and reading — is a far better use of his spare time than anything else he could be doing.

“anyway,” he says. “i guess your silly star stories have been a good trade-off.”

now it’s your turn to be mock-offended.

“silly star stories? you’re the one who asked about the constellations in the first place!”

“only because you kept talking about these fictional gods like they actually did something important.”

“says the guy who's completely enthralled by hades,” you roll your eyes.

“king of hell, god of the underworld,” he grins. “that’s my kinda guy.”

zoro laughs when you shake your head at him. he’ll never tire of teasing you; you are far too adorable with your little sigh and a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“did you know,” he says with a playful look. “that you still owe me about ten more constellation stories? d’you think you could squeeze in one more before we head up?”

zoro smiles at you, and you can't help but smile back. 

you have so many treasured memories with zoro in this library; ones of just the two of you (him napping while you studied), ones with nami and robin (and sanji until nami kicked the boys out for their incessant bickering), and ones where the night listens in as you recite the history of the stars.

whether you were telling the story of another righteous deity enacting justice, or the tale of mere mortals who insulted the gods, zoro would listen with his eyes closed, lying across the bench as he is now, and you’d sit in front of him as you are now.

everyone’s waiting for you upstairs and you hate to disappoint, but some things are more important — like telling a silly star story to a silly swordsman.

“of course i can.”

12:00 am

raucous laughter and cheering that’s loud enough to deafen anybody; empty plates, once piled high with food, now scattered around the room; bottles on bottles of sake and rum and whiskey and every liqueur that one would hope to find on a pirate ship.

these are zoro’s requirements for a good time, and suffice to say that your farewell party has them all in spades.

zoro watches his friends’ tomfoolery from his spot at the table (currently, luffy’s trying to get franky to see how far he can slingshot him) when you plop yourself into the seat beside him.

“this,” you say as your arm knocks against his, “is the best party i’ve ever been to.”

zoro takes a swig from his glass, “you haven’t partied until you’ve partied with pirates.”

“seriously! you guys are insane!”

as if to prove your point, franky chooses that exact moment to show off a juggling sequence involving a barrel of whiskey, a giant potted plant, and a squealing chopper.

you gasp at the spectacle but quickly dissolve into laughter when nami saves chopper, and it’s with both awe and pure excitement that you turn to zoro. laughter is etched into your lips, your cheeks are flushed, and zoro can’t help but marvel at how you’re even cuter when you’re having fun.

“what, you’ve never seen a cyborg man toss a speaking reindeer in the air before?”

you nudge him with your elbow, “well, excuse me for leading such a mundane life where animals don’t speak and men don’t tinker with their bodies.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

you look at zoro quizically.

he takes a sip of his beer, “most men do tinker with their bodies.”

it takes you a moment to catch his innuendo and zoro roars with laughter when the realization hits you. embarrassment tinges your pretty face and you shove him with a loud “ew, zoro!” but he can’t stop cackling.

“you’re disgusting!”

you make to swat zoro across the chest but he quickly catches your hand. he leans in to waggle his eyebrows at you, “but i’m not wrong, am i?”

you groan loudly, which only makes him laugh again.

perhaps it’s the alcohol that let his inhibitions go, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have much longer with you, but when you hastily change the subject and there’s no longer a reason for him to still be holding your hand, he doesn’t let go.

when nami joins you two, his fingers slips between yours and to his surprise, yours do the same. sanji joins your threesome, then franky and robin, and in no time at all, it’s no longer just the two of you at the table.

but zoro doesn’t care.

drunk, carefree, and more content than he’s ever been, zoro closes his eyes and smiles. he lives in the moment, and in this moment, he’s happy — happy with a full stomach and a full glass, happy to be surrounded by his favourite people, and happy that, under the table, you’re still holding his hand.

3:00 am

“and what’s that one?”

hands swinging between you, you and zoro dodge the tide as you roam further and further from the thousand sunny. the sand is cool under your feet and the tide kisses your toes with each step. your other arm is stretched above you, pointing at a constellation in the distance.

“what is this - a pop quiz?”

you smile, “i want to make sure you don’t forget about my ‘silly star stories.’”

zoro groans, “has anyone told you that holding grudges isn’t healthy? keeping going and you’ll turn into a bitter old thing some day.”

you stick out your tongue, “you’re just afraid you’ll get it wrong.”

“wrong?” zoro scoffs. “i’ve gotten the past six right.”

walking along the beach, you and zoro fall in step with each other and your footsteps match the ebbing waves in perfect rhythm. you smile in his direction and his chest is flooded with a warmth that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed.

“alright, let’s see what we got here.”

zoro follows your gaze at the cluster of stars you’ve chosen, and he grins when he sees the constellation. “really? at least try to make this hard for me, please.”

his cocky attitude leaves you speechless, making zoro laugh. 

“you’re so annoying!” you shove him with your free hand and the force of his stumble pulls you along, and you shriek as he drags you into the ocean with him. he doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second — not when water splashes your legs, not when zoro’s pants get soaked as he spins you around. 

your laughter is warmth in its purest form, the kind that you can feel all the way down to your cold toes. when he sets you back down, you give his hand a little squeeze, to which zoro answers back with a tender smile.

now with wet feet and a distance between you that’s even smaller than it already was, zoro continues to walk alongside you.

“moving on from your pathetic distraction attempt,” — you let out a dramatic gasp — “i’ll tell you exactly who we were looking at.”

pointing at the starry zodiac sign, zoro speaks with complete confidence.

“virgo the maiden, otherwise known as persephone, wife and muse of the best god of them all, hades—”

“fanboy much?” you tease but zoro pretends not to hear you (the little tug of his lips tells you that he does).

“—who snuck her a pomegranate seed because he couldn’t bear for her to leave him.”

zoro puffs his chest with pride, relishing in this one niche study of which he is now an expert. it’s incredibly endearing how pleased he is with his answer and you almost feel bad for correcting him.

almost.

“good answer,” you grin. “but you left out the little detail about how she was kept in hell against her will.”

zoro gasps, “are you accusing my idol of being a kidnapper?”

“your idol!” your cheeks already hurt so much from smiling but another giggle slips out. “first of all, these aren’t my accusations. historians have told their love story this way for years—”

“slander is what this is.”

“—and secondly, why would you want to look up to hades? he’s literally the antagonist in every story.”

“he’s the king of hell! that’s so bad ass.” zoro winks at you, “don’t be surprised if you hear them calling me ‘zoro, king of hell’ some day.”

“what’s wrong, demon of east blue doesn’t go hard enough for you?”

embarrassment rushes to zoro’s face and he’s never been more grateful for the night. “who told you that? was it usopp or nami? i bet it was nami.”

“i might hold a grudge but i don’t snitch,” you flash a mischievous smile. “anyway, let’s get back to how you want to be just like devil who tricked a poor girl in returning to the underworld.”

“come on, can you blame a man for doing whatever it takes to stop his beloved from leaving him?”

it sounds like an innocent question — harmless banter, really — but something in the way he says it makes you stop dead in your tracks. a silence falls and in its wake, all you can do is stare at the man you’ve spent the last several months with, the same man that you have to say goodbye to tomorrow.

moonlight falls unto the both of you and bathes zoro in soft light. it illuminates his eyes and when you meet his gaze, you see a sense of longing there that you feel in your chest. a longing for what, you don’t know — or rather, you don’t want to know.

at least, not yet.

so you hold his hand a little tighter, and underneath the watchful eye of the gods and constellations, muster a smile,

“i guess not.”

6:00 am

if this was any other morning, zoro would be awake and working out already. he'd be done his fourth set of bicep curls or, at the very least, working on his form. he could even be in the middle of deadlifts (because he knows not to skip leg day), but he definitely wouldn't still be in bed the way that he is right now.

the thing is though, if this was any other morning, he wouldn't have you sleeping next to him, curled into him like you were made to be a perfect fit.

he's never been more glad to still be in bed.

your breath matches the rise and fall of zoro's chest, perfectly in rhythm with the waves outside his window and the beat of his heart, like the universe meant for all these things to be in harmony at this one singular moment in time.

your lashes flutter in response when he shifts his weight.

he takes a peek at you, “psst, are you awake?”

eyes still closed, you manage a noncommittal grunt but your body says otherwise.

zoro can’t help but smile as he watches you start to wake up. your toes wiggle beneath the covers and you rub your eyes before looking up at him with an adorably sleepy look that he would love to wake up to every day. 

if only he could.

you focus your gaze on zoro like he’s an anchor in a sea of slumber. the way that you look at him, as if he’s the only thing that you see, fills his chest with a golden warmth akin to the breaking dawn.

you offer him a soft smile, and zoro wonders if the sun knows that you glow brighter than it ever could.

“why are you up at this ungodly hour?”

he chuckles, low and tender, “’m used to it. i’m usually up by now.”

“freak,” you mutter. zoro laughs, and you can’t think of anything else that sounds more beautiful at six in the morning.

you’re not usually up this early but what you notice is that, at dawn, time has a habit of moving slowly. it’s as if the morning casts magic upon those who rise with the daylight — and you’re so thankful for that.

because if time moved any faster than this, you’d have to say goodbye that much sooner.

“are you going to miss us?” zoro puts his arms around you.

you murmur into his chest, “of course, i will.”

“who do you think you’ll miss the most?” 

you give pause and zoro’s almost certain you can hear his heart beating a little louder — he can definitely hear it. he doesn’t typically get nervous like this but, then again, nothing about the way you make him feel is typical.

you seem to have come to a conclusion because you look up at zoro and he holds his breath. 

“sanji.”

he blinks.

“wait, are you serious?”

you’ve never seen zoro looks so wonderfully scandalized before, and you burst into a fit of giggles. as soon as you start, he knows he’s been had. he scowls but only for a moment; for who could be upset in the presence of such twinkling laughter?

 “silly man,” you snuggle closer, "of course i’m not serious.”

“okay, good.” you can hear the smile in his voice. “i don’t know if my ego could handle losing to him.”

zoro holds you close, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. his movements are slow, steady, comforting — ‘round and ‘round, in the same spot, like he’s drawing an invisible mark that is only known to the two of you.

"but, you know,” you hum, careful not to disrupt the peace. “you wouldn’t.”

“wouldn’t what?”

“lose.” and after a beat, you quietly add, “you wouldn’t lose to anyone.”

and just like that, zoro’s on cloud nine, airborne and weightless. he’s always known that he has a place in your heart, but this is the first time that you’ve ever hinted about where that place may be. if he allowed himself to be hopeful, it almost sounds like a confession. 

but almost isn’t good enough for him. zoro wants more — wants to find out exactly where he belongs in your life, wants to know if he can make himself at home there. 

it’s a shame that he’s out of time.

you interrupt his thoughts with a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the ocean and his aching heart,

“will you miss me?” 

more than anything.

9:00 am

surely, zoro’s dream to be hades has been granted. otherwise, why would it feel like he’s in hell, standing on the deck, all alone and watching your dinghy sail away from the thousand sunny?

zoro’s had his fair shares of farewells while aboard the ship, and to be honest, yours wasn’t any more emotional than anyone else’s. you left with a smile as beautiful as the morning sun and with far less tears than he expected (which he’s thankful for because he would hate to see you cry). as far as bittersweet goodbyes go, yours was definitely more sweet than bitter.

and yet, here zoro stands, with a bad taste in his mouth that he can’t explain. he can still see you from where he stands, and watching your little boat in the distance is the only thing that seems to settle his uneasy heart. 

should he have bid adieu privately? maybe he should’ve left you with a memento of some kind? should he have done more than offer you a quick hug? was it his imagination, or did you hold onto him just a beat longer than you needed to?

zoro’s so occupied by these messy thoughts that he doesn’t even hear sanji approach him.

“well?”

startled, zoro can only stare at the blond cook. ignoring the dumb look on his face, sanji continues.

“what’d she say when you told her?” sanji nods in the direction of your boat.

“told her what?”

“that you love her,” sanji takes a drag of his cigarette, looking at zoro directly now.

he speaks so frankly, so matter-of-fact and candidly, that it takes zoro a second to really register what it is that he’s saying. 

he loves you.

and as soon as he thinks it, the truth comes barreling through all the doubts clouding his head. clarity floods his chest as he comes face-to-face with what his yearning, pining heart has been trying to tell him this whole time.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you-

fuck.

he loves you.

and he never told you.

epilogue — 9:30 am

sails closed, your boat floats with the current and the salty breeze reminds you that your adventure with the strawhats has come to a close. compared to the never-ending bustle of the crew, it’s almost too quiet being at sea alone. the silence lends itself to your overactive mind, working full time to unravel the tightness you feel in your chest.

you’re lost in thoughts of what could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve been — so much so that you don’t even hear the commotion behind you. it’s not until you hear zoro call your name that you hear the frantic swimming and you whirl around.

“zoro! what-”

“can you help me first?” he splutters.

you pull yourself together long enough to run to the side of your dinghy, pulling a sopping wet pirate on board. zoro leans back, trying to catch his breath as you rummage through your things.

“are you crazy? do you know how far we are from the sunny?” you throw a towel over him before reaching for another. you start drying off his hair, frantically fussing over him.

“you think that just because chopper gives you the clearance that you can push yourself over the limit-”

“y/n.”

“this is why you’re always on house arrest! you’re actually insane, you know that?”

“y/n.”

“i know you work out, but for goodness’ sake, zoro, you’re only human-”

“y/n.” zoro holds your wrists, forcing you to stop with a start.

in all your worrying, you didn’t realize that you’d been gravitating closer to zoro until you’re staring into his dark, obsidian eyes. there’s clarity in the way that he looks at you. his eyes are shining with a fierceness that you’ve only seen in his worst fights, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

because you know that this will change everything.

“hades and persephone.”

“huh?“ you blink at him. “did you hit your head-”

“ask me if i think hades loved persephone.”

you stare into zoro’s eyes, desperation reflecting back at you. there’s a hidden question there and you understand immediately.

quietly, you ask, "do you think hades loved persephone?”

“i do,” he whispers. “i think he loved her and he would've been stupid to let her go.”

your breath catches. zoro places a hand over yours, surprisingly warm as his fingers find their home between your own.

the heavens watch on as the two of you finally open your hearts and give way to the stuff that myths and legends yearn for — a connection that can only be described as fated, destined, purely and resplendently magical.

the gods smile at the two lovers who find themselves falling into each other, laughing as you confess, over and over again,

i love you.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the river (6) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

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7.1k words

warnings: hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff, arguments, a wedding, pnv, unprotected sex, f receiving fingering, he doesn't pull out, cursing, allusions to trafficking, paranoia, violence, mentions of death, suicidal ideation, self-hate, dount, mentions of pregnancy but she's not pregnant, distrust, brainwashing, mentions of Snow, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You looked so beautiful, so angelic, so unspeakably alluring standing in front of him in your borrowed dress. Never had he felt more excited than when he'd realized this was in fact the day you would become not just his wife in spirit, but legally, Mrs. Odair. The way you'd so delicately smiled up at him made him feel like his grin was more like that of a mad man, and maybe he was. Madly in love, madly obsessed, madly in need to spend the rest of his life with you. He needed the revolution to be over so he could have a billion kids that looked just like you, that laughed like you did, and smiled like you did. How soft your fingers felt when they brushed his lips with salt water was addicting just as it was when his fingers did the same to your lips. He felt blindly dazed by your smile as you recited the vows, Finnick barely remembered that there were cameras around.

Your genuine happiness was something he had come to miss, yet here it was once again. The feeling that made all the rough times worth weathering the storm, how unequivocally enamored of you he was with each smile and sweet word. Your sugary repetition of what the officiant said eventually waned, Coin had insisted on less flowery vows to keep the event concise, but that was okay because he'd spilled his heart before. It also helped that now he wasn't sure he'd be able to form any coherent proclamations of love when looking at you put him into a stupor.

“I, Finnick Odair, take you as my wife from this day forward. Together or apart, we will always be united. One life, one purpose, one destiny.” He'd never get sick of the way you were looking at him right now, like that same girl from the market that he'd approached all those years ago who was joyously stunned that Finnick Odair would even talk to her.

“You may kiss the bride." The officiant announced and Finnick had never been more pleased for his lips to touch yours. The salty and peachy taste that lingered on your lips that he adored, compounded with the sound of the children's choir beginning to sing, a confirmation that his official voyage with you had really begun. Ever so slowly he pulled away to gaze at you further.

“Hi." You whispered softly through your perfect smile.

“We're married." He whispered back, the giddy smile almost hurt, but he couldn't make himself stop. “Like actually married."

You nodded with a light laugh, "Yeah, we are!” The words left you so breathily before you'd kissed him once again and he wanted to drown in your lips. His mind seemed to echo the same words over and over again, a never ending stream. She's actually my wife. She's so happy and pretty and my wife. My wife. The way you danced and laughed was exhilarating, this was the you that the Capitol had chipped away at making a glorious appearance. You could have another breakdown tomorrow, but right now you shone brighter than the sun and it was all that mattered. It wasn't home, there was no sea breeze in the air, there had been no net to cover you both, or sending the couple off in a boat at the end for farewells. It wasn't even the spring time wedding you'd once whispered about on late nights, but it seemingly was exactly what you both needed.

Your feet had only stopped moving once the cake was rolled out, glorious in its waves of blue frosting. It truly left him amazed in the attention to detail of each sea creature so delicately placed. “Oh, it's perfect." You muttered, squeezing his hand.

Finnick nodded in agreement, “It's amazing." It was the closest to home as either of you could get, he ached to be able to know he'd be carrying you over the threshold of a tiny cottage by the sea, but he couldn't until this was all over. Until they'd won. So the cake would have to be sufficient enough and in the joy, it was. Especially when you so carefully fed him a bite of it, blue staining his teeth as he took the bite. Before the blue and green had just as equally begun to stain your lips when he did the same, and it made him feel so young again. A kid who'd eaten too many colored sweets.

Eventually the propo had to come to an end and with it, the fun and dancing. But his happiness didn't subside, even if it was no traditional reception of dancing all night, at least he could carry you through the door of the compartment and be with you for eternity.

“Hello, Mrs. Odair." He'd whispered after carefully placing you on the floor of the shared room.

“Hello, Mr. Odair." You responded absentmindedly, eyes so loving as your fingers played with his hair.

“We're actually married, officially married, forever and ever and ever."

“Yeah." You glowed, all of you was so bright. “Don't get cold feet on me now."

"Never.” He affirmed, kissing you again.

"Good because I'm rather attached.” He smirked and quickly pulled you back into his lips. Slowly, but surely your lips attacked him more feverishly, with more passion. It had been so long, but it was a feeling he missed so much, until your fingers had slidden down to the buttons of his jacket, where some sort of panic permeated his happiness. He longed for you more than he'd even let himself ponder, but he couldn't risk it when you were still at risk of a meltdown at any turn. So reluctantly he pulled away.

“Angel, what are you doing?"

He missed the cooling feeling of your skin the moment you pulled contact away and hated how embarrassed you suddenly looked. “I'm sorry, I should have asked, Finnick. If you don't want to, I won't.”

His hands reached out to assure you otherwise and caress the side of your head. “No, no, sweet girl, that's not it. You're all good."

For a moment you seemed relieved before the confusion seemed to settle back in. “Then what's wrong?” Finnick sighed, how could he tell you he was terrified that you'd have a mid-thrust mental breakdown that threw you into some kind of terrified hysteria? He sat down on the bed, preparing himself for the hole he was digging himself into. At the very least, talking to you about it now was leagues better than going along until you cracked.

“Honey, I just don't think it's a good idea."

“Oh, okay." Shit. He always ruined everything. You'd been so open and happy all day only for your voice to slightly break with a speck of insecurity. You were so sweet with the way you'd move on to pretend it didn't upset you somewhat and find something else to do.

“Not because I don't want you, trust me I do." The words tumbled out of his mouth as fast as he could form them to try and reassure you.

“If you want to, then what's stopping us? I do too."

"Honey, come here.” He patted down on the bed and you sat, carefully he grabbed your hands, hoping his warmth would provide some sort of comfort. “I just think maybe we should wait until you're feeling like there's less of a chance that you'll get scared when we're in the middle of something.

"I'm not gonna get scared, Finn, I want this.”

"You're not right now, but say you get hit with those thoughts that say I want you dead, which I don't, and I'm on top of you. That'd be scary for you.”

"I haven't had an episode for a couple weeks.” Your head turned to stare at the wall in front of you.

"You haven't had a major one and I'm so proud of you for that, but you've had some small ones. I don't want one getting bigger because of the circumstances.” Your hands pulled away from his, covering your face where stray tears must have begun to fall. “Hey, no, don't cry. I'm just trying to look out for you."

“I make everything so difficult, I'm sorry."

“No you don't, it's all okay."

Quiet sniffles filled the room before you laid your hands back down on your lap to look at him. “Finnick, I get you're worried about me and I love that about you. But I could freak out waking up in the middle of the night or when we're just cuddling. I want this, I want you, and if the worst happens then it happens and we cross that bridge, but I'm really sick of letting it control me.” He wanted you too, he'd felt guilty for any fantasies he'd had of you, but he had missed every part of you beyond belief.

“I just don't want to do anything you might not be able to handle, I'd need you to constantly communicate with me, so I know you're okay."

“I will, I promise."

You were so ethereal, he hated that it made parts of him throb when his brain had already found another dilemma. “I don't think they've got birth control here, or at least we don't have any."

“That's okay, I don't care." No, he couldn't do that to you. How could you handle being pregnant in the midst of everything else?

“It's not a good idea, angel."

“Why? We'll win the war soon and be back home." He wished it was that simple, but poor you having an episode would only complicate things.

“Honey, I just don't think you're ready right now."

“You're?" Fuck. Why the fuck would he say that.

“I meant to say we. We're not ready." Why was he so stupid? How could he manage to be trying to protect you so hard that he caused an episode instead? He'd have to brace himself for the mess he was causing.

“You’re lying to me. Why am I not ready?”

What he'd give for this blip to be over, to be at the point where there could just be children without all the worry about your health. "It's our wedding night, let's not argue. Let's go to bed, I'll read to you.”

But your walls were slightly raised and he could feel it as you stood up. "I wasn't trying to argue, I was trying to consummate the marriage. And instead of just saying you weren't feeling it right now and letting us move on, you said you thought I'd be a bad mom.”

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth.” He said it too sharply and instantly regretted it.

“Then what are you saying, Finnick?” He despised the fact that he was only confusing you more when he was supposed to be letting you know what was real and what wasn't. The stress in your voice was evident as your arms protectively crossed around your body, foot tapping.

“That I don't think this is a good time for a baby, we should jump over a few more hurdles first." Finnick stood up, desperate to touch you, to soothe you. Trying to hide how mortified he was that regardless of all the talk he could still feel himself straining against his pants. “I just didn't say it right, I'm sorry, sweet girl."

"If you don't want to have sex that's fine, but stop trying to come up with excuses.”

"Angel, I do, I'm just…I've gotten so focused on trying not to set anything off that I've started planting the thoughts instead." He should be stronger, more able to read you so that he wasn't the one instigating the thoughts. Instead he was becoming overly paranoid himself, he hated the idea that he could need care when he was finally trying to care for his girl. “What I meant was, I think we should wait until the war is over for certain, so I'll just pull out." Slowly he approached you, hands softly urging your arms to uncross.

He could feel the way you began melting into his touch and it made him feel whole again. "Do you actually want to? I don't want you to feel like you have too because I'm in a mood.” Your eyes glistened with a sincerity that warmed his heart as your arms succumbed to his movements.

"Wanna make my sweet girl feel better, want to make it up to her.” He could basically hear your heart pounding and he loved that you still got somewhat flustered.

“You're absolutely sure though, right? This isn't just you-" His lips on yours cut off the further listings of any anxieties. Free hands searching for the zipper on the back of the dress as he quickly slid it down. He only pulled away long enough to make sure the dress had successfully become a pool at your ankles before his lips were on your chest. “Finnick?" Your voice snapped his head from his assault to look at you, who looked so sheepish to say anything at all. “Can that wait? I'm just… you know.”

With a smirk he raised his head, makitsure to stand fully back up as he looked at you. "You're just what, angel?”

"Finn, you know.” Your fingers messed with his jacket sleeves as you avoided his gaze.

Softly he pecked you on the lips,"Communication.” Another quick peck, "Need you to say it for me.”

"Finny, please don't be mean.” Fuck. Pulling out that nickname ever so sugary sweetly made him want to cave, to get straight onto taking care of you for life. “Already spent all that time arguing."

"Not being mean, angel, we just have to practice using our words.” You lifted his hand to your face, touching the heat of it to your face, which was oddly hot already considering how cold your hand was, per usual.

Your breath fanned across his hand as you quietly gave the confession, “Been aching for you all day, Finn."

“All day?" His hands moved to slowly unhook your bra, “Waited so well for me." The way you needed to just be coddled and taken care of was evident, he wanted nothing more than to love on you any way that he could. He let the bra fall to the wayside so his fingers could focus on how soaked your panties had become. “Can tell you've been waiting." It had been so long it was no wonder you were shy under his gaze. “Gonna make it better, show you how sorry I am." He could fall into the endless depths of your eyes that drew him in and fall forever with a smile on his face.

“I love you." The way you said it so tenderly made his heart skip a beat, he couldn't help but smile and place a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I love you, sweet girl.” Your fingers slipped up to continue the unbuttoning of his jacket which fell into a pile on the floor.

“Are you sure-"

“Yes, I'm sure." Finnick tried to back up this assurance through his eyes, hoping you could read through the depths of his soul. He slid his shirt off and you nodded, a signal that you had accepted what he said as truthful. Your fingers had settled on the button of his pants which you'd slowly undone as he stood there in utter awe of just you, all of you. He stepped out of his pants and boxers, leaving you on a nearly even playing ground. His fingers made their way to your hips, to the hem of your underwear to start pulling them down and the way your skin was so cold was startling. You'd always been freezing to the touch, but it made him feel guilty that you'd been stripped of any warmth besides his fingertips. “You're basically shivering, angel."

“You're burning up, so I'll be okay." It was true, the way your body temperatures aides the others had felt like another way you were made for each other. So slowly he'd pulled the panties off your body until they hit the floor as everything else had. Without another word your lips had crashed onto his which he used as an opportunity to slowly guide you towards the bed while you were lost in the feeling of his lips. He laid you down as your hand on the back of his neck dragged him down with you.

He took the opportunity to slide his fingers into your core and reveled in the feeling of you moaning into his mouth. A sound he hadn't heard in so long that it rang in his ears like music, a symphony that he could listen to for days. “You're so perfect." He muttered through the seconds you pulled away for air. You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head, “Yes you are." Finnick reiterated, thumb finding your clit causing another moan into his mouth the moment your lips had reattached to his. “Melodic to my ears angel, so perfect." Your hands tugged at his hair and he couldn't suppress the groan that came out.

"Love you so much, Finn.” The way you talked through the whimpers every time he added more pressure to your bundle of nerves made him an obsessive man. Your lips had become swollen from your prevalent addiction to his mouth, but you didn't seem to care, whining when he pulled his head just out of reach, trying to tug him back down.

He began thrusting his fingers in faster, mesmerized, as he always was and would be, by the way your face contorted with pleasure. “Love you too, angel, love my wife so much." In his daze of fascination you were able to pull his face back towards your own, fingers knotting in his hair.

Your voice was airy as you smiled softly through small whines,"Your wife.” He felt the clear heat your face exuded when he pressed his forehead to yours, it felt like your souls were one.

"My beautiful, perfect, gorgeous wife.” Your lips raised just enough to steal another peck from him as he kept rubbing harsh circles onto your clit. For a while he became enraptured just by your sounds, he didn't know how long had passed as he took in every small whimper to the loudest moans that you tried to cover.

“Oh my god, Finn!" You writhed slightly, a tell-tale sign of how near you were to release.

"You close, sweet girl? You gonna come for me?” He does his fingers up, as well as the intensity of his circles. Lips meeting yours once again as you nodded, eyes scrunching closed.

“So, so close." He began kissing at your neck, beguiled by the somehow lingering smell of the ocean on your skin.

"Come on, you can let go for me, sweet girl.” His kisses trailed down to your chest once again, utterly addicted to leaving the lingering feeling of his lips wherever he could. Upon your release the climactic end of the symphony blessed his ears and he was certain that if it was somehow possible, it had certainly made him harder. "So good for me." He slid his fingers out of you, the need to taste you winning when he brought them to his mouth.

“Need you inside, Finny, please." Your hands lead his face back close enough to kiss as you tried to catch your breath.

“You sure you're ready, angel?” You nodded eagerly, legs lifting to cross around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Yeah. Are you?" Your voice was so sugary sweet and addictive, every part of you was, if he died he was sure every part of you would consume his senses first.

“Yeah." His hand moved to softly caress your face, moving small strands of hair that had begun sticking to it away. Carefully he lined himself up with your entrance, stroking your cheek before he slowly pushed himself in. The sounds of both of your moans mixed in the air, intertwined as your bodies were. “Feel so good, angel. Fits so perfectly, you were made for me, we were made for each other." It was true, he wouldn't be complete without you. He'd gone his whole life needing nothing more than you, in every sense of the way, you fit one another flawlessly. He felt so sensitive that he was scared he might already be on his way to the climax, which he only dreaded because of how close he felt to you when he was in the warmth of your walls. That you were as close as you possibly could be, yet he still longed to be nearer.

“Faster, please?" It was nearly incoherent as you babbled through your whines, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as if you were still somehow trying to pull him in further. He happily obeyed your plea and sped up his ministrations, thrusting through his own climbing pleasure as he moaned. “Missed you so much, Finn. Can't live without you, you're-" Your own moans interrupted your train of thought and you took a moment to regain some type of verbal composure. “Only ever wanted you, only needed you. Meant to be." He was able to decipher your proclamations through the whines and over the sound of his own noises, it brought him ten times closer to feel so basked by your love.

“Not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again, I'm gonna take such good care of my wife. Promise." The security you both needed, that you both ached for and could only be guaranteed once the reign of Snow had toppled entirely. You looked ethereal, your face scrunched up with each noise you made, hair splayed out around you, eyes glazed over with adoration and pleasure. He was so hypnotized by the way love seemed to have filled every crevice of the room and whisped around that he barely even registered that he was at the very top of his climax. He'd let go at what felt so suddenly that he'd simply thrusted further inside of you as you moaned at your own release. It wasn't until the thrill had mostly passed that he remembered his own fears. “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered as he pulled out of you completely.

You sat up almost instantaneously and he could feel the panic radiating off of you. "What, are you okay?”

You were so sweet. "Yeah, I'm fine, sweet girl. I just…" He trailed off, staring at you, wide-eyed, anxious to help at any indication something was wrong. For years, nearly a decade he had loved you, something that somehow seemed to be constantly, rapidly increasing. Besides all the troubles you'd both endured he knew there was nothing he would trade any of it for if he knew he could have you and now that life you both yearned for was just in grasp. Finnick had and would dedicate every second he could to sustaining that dream and keeping you afloat, and if he could do that, he could do the same if you did get pregnant. He sighed and leaned closer to you, “Nevermind, angel, just didn't pull out, but it's okay. We're so close to freedom I can taste it and I want a family with you so bad. Finally going to be able to have our perfect little family and perfect little life." He crawled into the bed near you, kissing your face.

“You really want a family with me?" Your eyes were wide with an adorable hope, like you hadn't really accepted that he really wanted to be with you. He scoffed like the doubt was ridiculous.

“Of course I want a family with you, my sweet girl, I married you." He pulled you as close as he could get you, foreheads pressed together once again, making his heart buzz with contentment.

You smiled before looking for reassurance once again, which he was happy to deal out. “And you're gonna stay with me, right? Never gonna be a part or split up again?"

With all the sincerity possible he caresses your face again, “Never gonna leave you again, I promise, angel." You were blissfully pleased with his answer and kissed him once again.

But maybe Snow was right, even if it was unintentional, Finnick Odair was a liar and he in some ways resented himself for it. Yet it felt like there was nothing else for him to do when weeks later he found out about the squad Coin was putting together and he was absolutely certain that regardless of the shared training, the promises, he had to be on that squad, and you absolutely could not be.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick couldn't remember the last time he'd be physically ill, but since you entered the arena, he'd spent every day fighting the nausea. The Capitol's medicine certainly helped, but when he got feverish he barely wanted to take the concoctions. No if you died, he'd let himself die of fever to be with you. This was all his fault for ever even breathing in your direction, for caring, and now he'd have to suffer for it. What kept him going was how he had to be presentable and therefore healthy enough to get you sponsors, to rally for you. So he downed the medicine and copious amounts of caffeine to try and stay awake, he couldn't risk missing anything regardless of the alliances supposed to keep watch when you slept, he knew how fickle those could be. He rallied harder than he ever had to keep the public opinion on your side, you were sweet, delicate, a hopeless romantic, trying to stay alive for love, so pure, naive, a princess being forced to slay the dragon. Per usual people gobbled up any word that fell from his mouth and the sponsors came when called.

Then the rain started and he prayed that the arena would flood, you could swim, you'd survive that way, but it didn't flood. Raindrops just pattered down as the temperature dropped and then in what seemed like a matter of minutes, a few days into the rain, you were sick. Never had he been so grateful to have withheld the money for gifts beforehand because now he could get you what you needed to stay alive. Your lips were turning blue and he felt like he was tripping over himself in anxiety to send it to you. The sound of the rain echoed in his ears as he desperately waited for the blanket to arrive. For you to be warm, to stay alive. That night was the first one he had let himself cry, where death felt so imminent that he was plotting ways to go with you.

You persisted, you were like that. He felt his spirits rise as you continued on, so smart, so resourceful. His stomach wasn't in complete knots until suddenly your facade was slipping. What the fuck were you doing? What the fuck were you saying?

“Seems there's a lot about you I don't know then.” Conway stood and stared at you, Finnick could feel the illusion cracking through the screen. It was never going to continue forever, but this was too soon.

You tried to be quick on your feet, to throw together words to save yourself. “I’m not saying that I want to, just that sometimes you have to do what it takes to survive. Even if it's difficult -”

Conway interrupted your attempted safe and in that moment Finnick's stomach dropped. “Untrue?" Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck himself and Conway and fuck your slip of tounge. The stress had clearly gotten to you and was messing with how articulate you usually could be with your words.

“Yeah, I guess."

Finnick couldn't help but start muttering out loud, “No, no, no, no, don't say that. Angel, please.” He felt like he was going to cry again, you were on the edge of a cliff and the rocks were cracking.

“I'm sorry if that upsets you, I'm just doing what it takes to get home." Of course you were, you were doing what you had to, like every victor had, but you shouldn't have said it. It definitely didn't help that the frustration was evident in your voice. There must have been a brick of lead in the bottom of his stomach. Now he could never be home with you. Conway knew, there was no way he didn't.

“It’s okay, I understand.” No he didn't. “It's just hard to come to terms with, when you remember that this is all designed to bring that out in us. To see the other side, not through rose colored glasses.” Then he kissed you and Finnick knew the tides had turned. You needed to catch on, you could not be the prey, not now. Say you have to pee and run. Dart to wherever you can and hide.

Yet you didn't, you stuck by his side, and didn't follow when he and the male tribute from 7 went off alone for a second as you all ate. Finnick felt numb as the two discussed how they would get rid of you and the girl from 7, eyes red and stinging as he stared at the screen. He was helpless, he could only hope you could get his telepathic message that you were in danger. You didn't and your death warrant had been signed.

He saw how disenchanted Conway was by you when you killed the girl from 2. How dare he be disgusted when you were doing exactly what you had too in order to survive. Finnick was screaming at you through the television when Conway led you away. Stay. Stay by the girl from 7, let her take out the threat of Conway. Don't go with him. It was so hard to watch, but he persisted because he had to make sure you were alive. Finnick despised the way Conway was luring you in, he didn't care if it was hypocritical, you needed to survive, to come back home to him. When Conway's lips crashed into yours as he pulled the knives, your only protection, out of your hands Finnick felt like he'd lost all grip on reality. He threw a glass at the screen which shattered with a resounding crash, bubbly liquid cascading across the room, but he didn't care. Not when you were being led straight to your death, a ticket to a train that kept you forever away from him on this Earth.

You appeared so innocent and trusting, but with a glance Finnick could tell how scared you were, that you knew something was no longer quite right. Then the foot tapping started and if Finnick's stomach could get heavier then it did, too obvious. Any chances of you being able to play the role of the naive ingenue were long gone because Conway knew what it meant too. Then you did as Finnick had begged you to do long before, you ran. Predator and prey. You ran, he chased. Conway's long legs gave him an advantage as he sprinted after you, calling your name out in the tense air. You tried to hurtle yourself upon the closest tree and Conway had pulled you down in seconds.

This was it, the end. Finnick could feel his eyes welling with tears as his yells intertwined with your screams of begging Conway to let you go. He didn't know when he did it, but the coffee table had been toppled over on the floor, objects scattered across the carpet. Conway spewed on and on about how he knew you didn't love him, your heart was clearly owned by another, and how he was getting back at you now. You fought like hell, trying to squirm your way out of his arms until a knife was firmly plunged in your side. The scream you let out was so gut wrenching that let himself crumple onto the floor. Knees pulled up to his chest, face wet with a steady stream of tears, he was so helpless, so broken to not be able to save you.

You, however, made the tides change when your hands, now covered in defensive wounds, sharply forced themselves into Conway's eye. He screamed, trying to cover it, and you'd instantly darted up. Suddenly there was light at the end of the tunnel again, you were so smart, you'd halted him long enough to grab the spear. Finnick held his breath until the cannon went off, you'd overcome it, and he hated that he'd doubted you would.

Regardless of the fact that there were two tributes left, part of the weight on his chest lifted. He knew the feeling of how adrenaline pushed through the body to get you through every kill to the victory when one was in the arena and he could see it in you. His eyes stayed glued to the screen and he felt like he was stuck to the floor. Fingers knotting into the carpet as he anxiously watched. Time passed agonizingly slow, it hadn't been long, but each second you were still in there was hell. A hell that burned his chest just as yours must have been was the girl from 7 was holding you under the water. Just hold your breath, don't panic, just keep holding it as long as you can. You were an excellent swimmer, you could do this. Your body flailed about, trying to break free, but the other girl was firm in her hold. He'd sink into the bathtub himself, go overfill it and drag his head under, force the instincts to hold his breath wouldn't kick in.

Oh how the Capitol would mourn but love the tragedy of every single lover dead. The story they would tell of how heart wrenching it was. A story that wouldn't be told because you'd found the spear and quickly thrusted it upwards. A cannon echoed. You'd won. You'd come back to him. He'd be yours. You'd be his. You'd be each other's. Tears of relief, of happiness racked through his body. Fate had granted you both more time, he would forever be indebted for it. He shot up from the floor, staring at you, “I'm gonna be with you so soon, angel, right with you. Never gonna leave." He'd do whatever he could to be with you as soon as possible, to hold you once again, it was exhilarating to know the work had not been in vain. He'd have to comfort you, console you, but it would all be worth it just to be with you once again. He couldn't even dream of ever leaving your side when he had you so securely back, the one person he loved more than life itself.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick thought he'd had plenty of preparation for how you might respond when you found out that he'd convinced Coin you weren't mentally stable enough yet to be on the squad. He'd done it to protect you, to make sure you were safe, but he needed to be involved. It felt like a no-brainer that he had to help really take the Capitol down, take Snow down. Your emotions made his skin bristle with cold, you were stormy, hurt, betrayed. Which he hadn't done, he responded, he'd done it to save you.

“How could you do that to me?" Your voice shook as you wiped away the tears creeping up in your waterline.

“Angel, I can't let you go out there and die. I'm just keeping you safe." He tried to get closer, if he could just touch you that could reassure you of his pure, loving intentions.

“You think I'm gonna be safe when you die out there and I'm stuck completely alone?"

“I won't die." His eyes were pleading and yours were full of a white hot rage he'd never had directed at him on full blast before.

“I went through all the same training as you, I am my own person, you don't get to make decisions for me.”

“I don't want to control you, I want to keep you safe." How could you not understand? He sighed and took a step closer, which you countered. "Honey, I don't doubt that you're getting better, but this is war and if something happens that makes you go off…” Like him dying, like you being out there with him when his soul left the binds of the planet. “You could be a danger to yourself."

“I’ll be a danger to myself here too."

“There are doctors here who can take care of you, sweet girl. Please, I love you and need you here." Finnick tried to ignore the pressure of tears building up.

“All they'll do is sedate me and I'll never recover. I have to go with you, Finnick, you can't let me rot away alone." You got closer, hands finding his face. He adored the feeling but he couldn't savor it when your eyes were digging into his, bargaining with the depths of his soul. Which would not bend, it couldn't fold to you, no matter how much he wanted to be attached to you for every waking and sleeping moment. You must have sensed this incoming rejection when your face became stony and your grip began to slip away.

He tried to pull your hands back towards him, to keep contact, “It's just a couple of weeks, then we'll be free. We can go home together, live our lives, and have our perfect family. Just one more thing I've got to do."

You fully pulled away and he grieved the loss of contact. "You're punishing me, for leaving you in the arena, you're trying to get back at me for it.”

He shook his head as quickly as he could, "No, I'm not. You were just trying to follow the plan, I don't have any grudge over that, sweet girl. You did what you had too.”

"Like how you're doing what you have too, now?” The air felt stagnant in the silence of the beat as you stared at each other. You stepped closer again, hands grabbing his arms, pleading. “I know I was terrible, that I'm terrible, but please don't punish me for it. Please, Finn, don't do this to me." His head ached, his heart ached, everything ached.

“You're not a terrible person, I love you, and you can't go."

“You promised me-" You choked for a second on the tears in your throat, “You promised you wouldn't leave me." He thought about how you'd done the same and hated himself for thinking it. That was the thinking you already assumed he had and that's what he had to fight against.

“I know and I'm sorry, honey. It won't be long." Once again you pulled your body away from his, you looked so betrayed that it felt like he'd been stabbed in the stomach. “I promise."

He felt like he watched something frightening click in your brain, “You promised last time too." Your voice was low before your hands started moving rapidly around while you spoke. “This is you trying to get into my head, they were right, but you're in my head instead. You're trying to psychologically get to me, oh my god, I get it now."

“No, no, no, no, no, no, honey, no. That's not real." Another step forward and you stumbled slightly as you quickly went backwards.

“Yes, you've been toying with me this whole time. That's why you keep pulling shit like this, you're trying to break me.” He was always digging himself into much deeper holes.

"Angel, I'm not. I'm trying to keep you safe. I swear, the stuff you're thinking, that's not true.” Your arms crossed around your chest. “This is why you can't go, this is dangerous."

“I'm not crazy!" You looked at the ground, shaking your head as the tears began falling.

He stepped closer, “Nobody's saying that, you're not crazy. I know that. You just need some more time."

“If I needed more time, why wouldn't you stay?" You pointed at him, “You are a fucking liar and I wish you'd just have killed me instead of playing mind games on me."

You moved around so frantically that he had no choice but to grab you and he wanted to die himself when you flinched and shrunk into yourself. “I don't want you dead. I'm keeping you safe, I know I lied, I didn't mean to and I am so, so sorry.” His own dam protecting him from tears had broken and he began to cry. "I will come back so we can be together forever because I love you, that's what's real. When I'm gone and you're confused, know for a fact that I love you.”

“You can't go. If you go, I have this horrible feeling something bad will happen. Please, Finn, just stay with me.” The way his chest squeezed with guilt was nearly unbearable.

"I have to go.” He whispered and the way you completely broke down made him wish he'd never gotten close enough to be the one who hurt you like this. He caught you before you hit the ground and held you close. "We have time, I've got you, sweet girl. It's okay.” He soothed, rubbing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth to try and call you down.

When it was finally time for him to, the doctors did have to sedate you. It left him with echoes in his ears of how pleaded with him and how you cried. The thought of how much he would really be betraying you if he died kept him going. Every step of the journey was thoughts of you, echoes of you. Wondering if you were still sedated and how he'd make it up to you when you could finally be together again. Free from the reign of the Capitol and together. At least you were safe in District 13, you'd be upset, but protected until the world was ready to stop reigning terror on the two of you. That was until Coin sent in the replacement members for the squad and Finnick was sure he would absolutely lose it when you and Peeta walked off the craft, straight into another set of trials and tribulations determined to tear apart his happiness.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all so much for reading and all the fun discussions we've been having about all the details, I love you all so much. as always likes, reblogs, comments, feedback is all very very appreciated. love you all so so much 💋

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[crystallinestars]

Kissing Headcanons Part 6 (Kazuha, Tighnari, Cyno, Dainsleif)

Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7

(Reader's gender is not mentioned)

Kazuha’s kisses are as soft and light as the breeze. He enjoys kissing your palms while gazing into your eyes, spontaneously reciting a new haiku about the depth of his love for you or the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. He can be surprisingly very forward and bold about his affection for you, and lets out a soft laugh whenever you get flustered from his flirting, finding your reaction to his kisses and words to be cute.

He also likes to kiss your hands if you get upset with him or other things happening in your life. He tells you words of reassurance and support, taking both your hands in between his and bringing them up for a kiss. Such actions convey his devotion and desire to comfort you because he wants you to know that you can rely on him to be there for you. He also has a tendency to kiss your shoulder. If you’re hugging or are simply spending some alone time together in close proximity, Kazuha will use the opportunity to place his lips to your shoulder in a lingering kiss.

Despite his overall calm demeanor, Kazuha tends to get a little playful with you when the mood strikes. While kissing, he could gently nip your bottom lip, or lean in for a kiss only to kiss the corner of your mouth at the last moment. He tries to hold back his laughter at your indignant reaction to his teasing, but sometimes he lets a chuckle slip past. Overall, his kisses are usually soft, gentle, and exploratory in nature. Kazuha likes to take his time to explore your feelings for each other, both through words and physical touch. He wants to make sure you feel comfortable enough to open up to him in such intimate situations, which is why he takes it nice and slow. He feels really connected to you during such intimate moments. He may be a wandering samurai that travels all over Teyvat, but you are his home, the one he belongs with, and the one that makes him happiest.

--------------------

Tighnari is not particularly into lots of physical affection, but he does like giving and receiving it when the two of you have some private time. He prefers to kiss your forehead opposed to your lips since he can keep the kisses short and sweet, especially as a way of saying goodbye when he heads out on patrol. He places his hand on the back of your head to pull you closer as he presses his lips to your forehead in a short peck, saying a word of farewell before leaving. It may not seem like much, but considering how he typically doesn’t engage in a lot of physical affection, these kisses serve as proof that he does love you and feels comfortable enough to engage in such intimacy with you.

Tighnari enjoys it when you kiss his fluffy ears, though he likes it more due to your happy expression rather than the sensation. He knows you like touching his fox ears and feeling how soft and fluffy they are, and the expression of absolute joy that lights up your features as you play with them amuses Tighnari. He chuckles and flicks his ear when you kiss it, finding the sensation a little ticklish, but he can’t help but smile at the delight in your eyes as you feel the fur of his ear. If you rub his ears while kissing him on the lips, Tighnari absolutely melts at the feeling, his tail swishing in pleasure. However, he doesn’t want you to know the effect your touch has on him, so he grows flustered and tells you off for touching his ears unprompted, but you laugh off his admonishment because you know he’s simply embarrassed for enjoying it.

--------------------

Cyno isn’t shy about kissing you. In fact, he was the first one to ask if you could try kissing and deepen your relationship. When the two of you are about to have your first kiss as a couple, Cyno will instantly notice if you’re nervous. He’s trying his best to make the experience as nice and comfortable for you as possible, and if you’re uneasy or nervous, then he’ll try to lighten the mood with a joke. Whether you find it genuinely funny and laugh or think it’s awful, it does its job of calming you down. After all, this is still your beloved Cyno in all his regular, goofy glory, and there’s no reason to feel intimidated.

Each time he wants to kiss you, Cyno asks your permission first before doing anything. He’s very respectful of your boundaries and wants you to be as comfortable as possible being in this new stage of your relationship with him, and will only stop asking if you tell him it’s unnecessary.

Though Cyno’s expression may remain aloof, he is very careful with how he pulls your face in for a kiss. His touch is light and gentle as he tilts your chin up and leans in to press his lips to yours. Though Cyno’s lips are warm, they’re chapped from traveling through the harsh desert winds and heat. Even so, his sweet, slow, and tender kisses warm your heart as much as your presence warms his. He’s very grateful to you for accepting him for who he is—bad jokes, intimidating appearance, and all. To be accepted and loved so wholeheartedly means more to him than you’ll ever know, and he at least wants to express his gratitude through such sweet kisses that he hopes make you feel as loved as he does by you.

When you give him surprise kisses to his cheek or any other part of his body, Cyno will ask what you’re doing. His expression may be impassive, but the blush on his cheeks gives away how flustered he really feels. Your unexpected kisses make his heart skip a beat and make him feel like a young schoolboy again. He really likes receiving such affection from you, though he prefers it when you do it in private rather than in public. He has a reputation to uphold as the fierce General Mahamatra. He can’t be caught blushing and stuttering because of a simple kiss. But catch him like that in private, and you’ll be privy to an adorable sight of a flustered Cyno that none except you get to see.

--------------------

There is something restrained about Dainsleif’s kisses when you first take that step in your relationship. They feel nice. Very tender, careful, and loving, but you can tell that he’s afraid of something. Each kiss feels like he’s kissing you for the last time, and it always make your heart ache to feel him act as if your relationship is already over. Dainsleif knows he’ll outlive you because of his curse, and there’s a part of him that’s already trying to numb himself to the inevitable day when he’ll lose you to time just so it won’t hurt as bad.

Underneath the fear of losing you, you can also feel that Dainsleif craves for more from your shared kisses, but he never asks for it. It's not until you confront Dainsleif about it that he confesses he feels an urge to be more aggressive with his kisses, but he didn’t want to ask for more since he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or force you into something you don’t want. Even when you tell him it’s okay, Dainsleif will remain stubborn and won’t let himself indulge in his cravings. It will take a lot of patience and convincing on your end for Dainsleif to finally loosen the chains on his self-restraint and give in to his desires.

Once he lets himself indulge, you’ll feel a stark difference in his kisses. Dainsleif is like a man starved. He deepens the kiss, kissing you with a hunger that burns you from the inside. You can feel that he craves you, desires you, longs for you just from how firmly he presses his lips to yours, melding them together and barely letting you have a chance to catch your breath. He’s lost so much, and lives with those painful memories every day of his immortal life, feels and sees the effects of the curse on his body. But with you by his side, he can forget about the curse and the pain he feels, if only for a moment. You are his respite, and he tries to lose himself in you by kissing you senseless. Though he knows one day he’ll be forced to part from you, you chose him to be your lover and he wants to at the very least express his gratitude by giving you all the love he is capable of.

[firstfullmoon]

SOLMAZ SHARIF: I was recently reminded of a story of a political prisoner—I don’t know if I want to share this. . . This political prisoner, who had been convicted and was facing the death penalty, was in a large cell with about twenty other political prisoners. Periodically, the guards would come and call one of their names and take that person out to be executed. When this political prisoner’s name was called, the prisoner stood up and started singing “The Internationale.” The whole cell sang along, and that was their farewell. But when the prisoner went into the hallway, the guards told them that they weren’t going to the gallows. They were being transferred to a different prison. The guards took them to the latrine, and while the prisoner was in there, they realized they wouldn’t have wanted “The Internationale” to be their last song, and started reciting a poem by, I believe, Hafez from memory.

For me, the why of poetry has become the reason revolution must happen to begin with. It’s no longer the conditions that make revolution inevitable, but what’s waiting for us on the other side of it. That required me to be more vulnerable—removing the conceptual frame was an act of that allowed vulnerability. . .

ALINA STEFANESCU: That reminds me of how my parents made me memorize poetry. They said: If you find yourself in prison, if you lose your home, family, livelihood, everything, the poems you remember will keep you whole. At the end of the day, alone in a cell, no one can steal the stanzas you remembered. The recitation itself is a radical act of refusal. Maybe poems sustain the hope and selfhood that carceral systems aim to extinguish.

SOLMAZ SHARIF: I love that. I was reminded of poetry’s capacities at the beginning of the pandemic. When lockdown started, some of my artist friends who work in other mediums suddenly couldn’t do any work. I remembered, for readers a poem is something you can carry with you anywhere, and for poets, writing a poem is an action that you can undertake anywhere. You don’t need physical materials. I hadn’t decided to turn my attention toward those qualities, however; I was forced to. My idea of poetry is tied inextricably to my early understanding of carcerality and war—both of which evaporate all that seems solid. And poetry seems especially able to survive these things. I bristle at the word hope, but the poem’s scrappy thereness is enough for me. In an interview late in his life, Mahmoud Darwish says, “poetry changes only the poet.” Some people understand that statement as pessimistic or cynical or jaded. Or maybe see it in line with Auden’s choppily quoted “poetry makes nothing happen”—a quote betrayed in the two words that follow: “it survives.” Auden is often quoted to fall neatly into that neoliberal ethical bypass of so much American literature. But I see the Darwish quote as honoring that even when a poem can’t be anything else, that it will be enough. I’m surprised by this turn in my own work, but the lived practice of poetry in my life made it inevitable.

— Solmaz Sharif and Alina Stefanescu, in conversation for BOMB Magazine

[mikkeneko]

Samwise Gamgee and the song at the end of the world

I first read LOTR at a young age, continued to read it when I became an adult, but it's really only with some critical context that I can go back and finally see some parts of the story for the first time. When I was younger, while I loved the books, there were parts I always found baffling. The Tom Bombadil interlude is one. The conversation between Galadriel and Frodo at the Mirror is another. That conversation at time seems kind of baffling, and in the moment leads nowhere -- until Frodo enters Mordor, and starts testing the limits of his mastery of the Ring, which culminates in his confrontation with Gollum. The conversation with Galadriel in Book 1 was a direct set-up for that moment in book 3. And the interlude with Tom Bombadil in Book 1 is a direct set-up for this moment, in book 3, in Cirith Ungol.

You see, Tom Bombadil -- as @astronicht pointed out in their wonderful LOTR liveblog -- is very clearly a scop, a bard from the old anglic tradition that Tolkien was writing from. He uses galdor, spells made of song, to work his will on the world. Tolkien is spelling it out very clearly for us here: yes, this world runs on the same rules as the old traditions. Yes, in this world, spells can be made of song. And two books later in the tower of Cirith Ungol, in his moment of darkest despair, Sam... sings.

"....weary and feeling finally defeated, he sat on a step below the level of the passage-floor and bowed his head into his hands. It was quiet, horribly quiet. The torch, that was already burning low when he arrived, sputtered and went out; and he felt the darkness cover him like a tide. And then softly, to his own surprise, there at the vain end of his long journey and his grief, moved by what thought in his heart he could not tell, Sam began to sing.

In some ways this feels like the turning point of the whole Quest, of the whole book, as much as the moment in the heart of Mount Doom or the Battle of Pelennor fields; this feels like the culmination of Sam's character arc, as much as the choice to go on after Frodo's death or the moment he shakes off the Ring's thrall.

Frodo is a scholar; he's well-read and speaks several languages, he knows more of Middle-Earth than almost any hobbit alive save perhaps Bilbo. (And arguably a kind of seer, though I won't go into that now.) But it's Sam who is heir to Bilbo's love of poetry. It's been Sam, throughout the whole journey, who is the most interested in poetry and song. He wrote the song about the Trolls; he is thrilled by the dwarven song of Khazad-dum; he wrote a new verse on the spot for Gandalf's eulogy; he recites the Oliphaunt. Sam has been enamored of poetry and song as much as he has been enamored of Elves, of the old legends and songs of heroism. Sam, like Tom Bombadil, is a scop, one who can weave spells through song. And now, in the darkest night in the heart of the Enemy's lair, Sam weaves a song.

His voice sounded thin and quavering in the cold dark tower: the voice of a forlorn and weary hobbit that no listening orc could possibly mistake for the clear song of an Elven-lord. He murmured old childish tunes out of the Shire, and snatches of Mr. Bilbo's rhymes that came into his mind like fleeting glimpses of the country of his home. And then suddenly new strength rose in him, and his voice rang out, while words of his own came unbidden to fit the simple tune:"

In this moment Sam reaches out for help, and something reaches back. Someone answers. Another voice joins his, and lifts his quavering song to something high and clear and strong, and Sam finds the strength to rise from his despair. And most of all, the song allows Sam to find Frodo in the dark.

 Though here at journey's end I lie in darkness buried deep, beyond all towers strong and high, beyond all mountains steep, above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars for ever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell.

Who answered? Or perhaps the question should be, Who answered? I'm personally inclined to think that it is themselves the great elven heroes of old, the ones who have been through this darkness before and come out the other side through their own song, whom Sam always idolized and did not dare to dream that one day he might be counted among them, who reach back to Sam in that moment. It's already foreshadowed in his ascent through the Tower, where his form is overlaid by that of a greater power, one that makes the Orcs he encounters believe him to be an elf-lord. His tale is their tale, and their power, in this moment, becomes his power.

But one can't forget that this very world was created by a song, by the Lord of song, who exists in a place beyond all towers strong and high, a remote and clear power untainted by darkness. Did Tolkien's letters say that there was only one time, during Lord of the Rings, that this distant power interfered directly in the events of the War of the Rings? This has sometimes been proposed to be interference in Frodo and Gollum's struggle in Mount Doom, which led to Gollum's fall, but I never believed that; the geas accounts for that sequence well enough by itself. Maybe it wasn't in a battle at all. Maybe it was here, in darkness and despair, lending a little bit of his Song to his smallest singer.

[jacespookiebear]

.ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 4

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as Y/n “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, age gap (reader is 3-4 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

Lady Laena Velaryon had passed.

A sadden death to many, especially to House Velaryon. You had heard that she died by the hands of her dragon, Vhagar, rather than by child birth. Your Uncle, Prince Daemon, had to witness it. You frowned at the way he grieved during her funeral but you needed to remember that others have different ways of grieving and how qyou need to be there for your uncle and House Velaryon.

Though, Daemon wasn’t the only one who you needed to be there for. Jace was also grieving as well. Ser Harwin Strong had died in a sudden fire, along with the Hand Lord Lyonel Strong, in Harrenhal, on the same night they had arrived. Ser Harwin was dear to your sister, Rhaenyra, and her sons, and to you as well. He was nothing but ever so kind and made you feel safe around his presence. You did not want to cry but you could not help yourself, feeling Lysanna’s tug on your arms made you feel safe.

Daemon had laughed when they were reciting the eulogy during her farewell. He was a strange man from what you had witnessed. You watched from afar as he overlooked the sea. Without letting a sigh out—you held your breath as you walked towards him, only wanting to bring some sort of comfort to your dear uncle.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, uncle.” You slowly bowed your head, not wanting to look up at him but you did anyways, slowly. His eyes were already on you. The way he stared made you feel small in his presence, the way his eyes looked over to you, noticing your Valyrian features as he did so.

Daemon said nothing.

“It has been rather a long time since I had last saw you,” unable to stop your attempts, you walked closer to him. He continued to not say anything as he finally looked away. “It pains me that we had to reunite under these circumstances.”

With moments of silence, felt like eternity before at last, Daemon finally spoke, “It is true, what they say about you, the Realm’s Beauty.”

You felt yourself become warm at the sudden compliment, looking around to place your sight on—you saw your step-mother, whom looked back with disappointment, you were aware of her dislike of the Prince Daemon.

“Thank you, uncle,” you gave a small smile, “I hope to chat with you more.”

Daemon said nothing else, and nodded before he walked away. Your eyes never left the widowed man as he strode off but moments later, you found yourself near your young brother’s side. Lysanna was there as well, happily chatting with Aemond before Aegon had ruined it.

”We have nothing in common,” Aegon said with disgust, standing beside you, watching Helaena whisper to her long legged creatures she had found. Without much resistance, you gave him a soft punch in the side to force him to straighten up. You were told by Rhaenyra that Alicent had betrothed Aegon and Helaena, it was a way to show she rejected Rhaenyra’s proposal and it only crushed you to know Helaena will now have to suffer.

“You will respect her. She is to be your wife and bear your children!” you whispered and hoped no one could hear. There was no doubt that you had a few on-lookers who were watching you and Aegon. The younger prince sent you an annoyed look and nodded as if he will he listen to you.

“Our sister,” you started and he half-listened, “needs someone who will be able to at least do the minimum of honoring her.” you muttered, looking down at your feet as Aegon only scoffed. You cleared your throat in hopes of the tension to disappear, you decided it was best to move away but before you could, your brother forced you to look up at him by grabbing your jaw, the act made nearby guests look over—mainly your brother, your nephew, and Lysanna.

“Do you think you can manage?” he whispered, stealing a glance at your shocked expression. He watched knowingly as your confidence fades from your face at his comment. Replaced with fury and determination shining in your lilac eyes.

“Dear sister, you should remember,” Aegon continued as he did so, not bothering to care what the others might think of the scene. You quickly placed your hands on top of his, trying to pry him off. “You were once promised to me.”

You saw across the room, your nephew, who looked back at you with worry painted on his face. Jace started making his way towards the both of you, clearly with the intent of helping you until he was stopped by his mother. In mere seconds, you roughly shoved Aegon away, making him stumble. He did not care to look back as he almost tripped on his own feet.

“Wench! Another!” Aegon cried, continued stumbling while other guests watch with displeased looks. As you straighten your dress, you gave a smile to the guests—in hopes, that scene is now forgotten. Aemond shook his head in disappointment, and then his hand lightly held out for you. It’s only then that you realize that your young brother, Aemond, is trying to help you. Lysanna, quickly making you sit on the nearby bench and handing you water to help.

Aemond’s expression was confusing. He snuck a glance over his shoulder to give one last glance towards Aegon before staring at the sea. “I’ll handle Aegon soon,” he doesn’t look at you when he says this. You feel yourself tense at his words and you tried not to look shocked, instead you tried to seem strong for your lady-in-waiting and younger brother but it was much harder than you thought. “I promise, sister.”

You wanted to know his thoughts. Wondering what he is planning to get back at Aegon.

“It is alright, Aemond.” you smiled, confusion and sadness written all over Lysanna’s face. Aemond watched you try to reassure them that you were fine but they truly knew what you were feeling. It drove Aemond mad to the point he was shooting daggers at anyone who was peeking at you.

”I won’t let anyone hurt you.” that was all he whispered, he didn’t want anyone to hear what he had just said—including you and Lysanna.

You held tightly to Lysanna, who only hushed you to relax. She gently tangled her hand into your silver locks until you decided that you were okay and reluctantly, she let go and you made your way to Aemond.

“Listen, my sweet brother,” you softly kissed his forehead, he frowned. “forget what had happened.”

Aemond was still not convinced by your attempts, he honestly wanted to go up to Aegon and punish him for what he had done to you—Aegon publicly humiliated you. Your focus was soon taken off of Aemond and you see Vhagar with Meraxes, roaming the clouds as she wails sadly for her dead rider.

An idea popped in your mind, one that could certainly help your brother put his mind off what just happened, “Vhagar is now riderless,” you whispered, as you traced your fingers on his hands, “you should explore the island to find her and watch from afar.”

With the encouragement, Aemond became a little happy with what you said. Although, he couldn’t forget what had happened, he knew you wanted him to let it go but it was hard to—Aemond decided to drop it for now and nodded at your words. You placed a one final kiss on his forehead and watched him be on his way with Lysanna.

As for you, you decided to sit back down on the bench and look over at the crowd to ease your mind.

“What did Aegon do? I want the truth.”

Your nephew, slightly surprised you when he sat next to you. Jace gave you a stare—you tried so hard to avoid, you didn’t want to answer the young boy. Wanting to not give him any reaction but to no avail, you were tearing up.

“My Prince, it was a simple disagreement..it was nothing-..”

“I saw! He hurt you!”

“Don’t be foolish, Jacaerys. He was only whispering into my ear.”

Jace immediately grabbed onto your arm, squeezed it, he knew you were lying. He always knew whether you would tell the truth or not. “You don’t have to keep lying to me. I will always know.”

His tone sound determined but the look on his face told another story—he looked worried for you. You slightly shook your head and began picking at your skin to distract yourself, your skin became irritated by the minutes.

“I am fine, Jace.” you strongly assured, finally turning your head to face him, and gave him a sweet smile. “It is I, who should be worried for you.”

He did not answer back. You both sat there in silence, you didn’t know what else to say to help the atmosphere become better. It was dreary—like always.

”I saw you were with your cousins,” You slowly spoke up, watching the waves fall and rise with Jace looking at the same direction. As much as you tried to bring the mood up, Jace did not react.

“Mother only wanted for me to comfort them,” Jace claimed, you heard some annoyance in his voice as he said that. “I did not want to.”

The twins were continued to be comforted by their grandmother, Rhaenys—who mainly kept her focus on the girls during the whole funeral. It made you held sorrows for the girls—having to lose their mother at such a young age. It made you remember how you lost your own mother, and brother.

No…you did not lose them. You killed them.

“You should not be so cruel,” you answered as you took your attention off the girls. “It is likely that you will soon be betrothed to Princess Baela.”

Jace snapped his head to look at you, “What?!”

You only laughed at his reaction, “Yes! And then you both will marry and she’ll give you heirs to the Iron Throne.”

“I do not want to marry her!”

“But you must! My sister—your mother, would be a fool to not propose the idea.”

“If I marry her, it would be out of duty! Not out of love and never will be!”

Shocked—That was not the reaction you had expected. Jace did have a temper but it was rare when he would lash out on you. He let go of your arm with much force and stomp off as you called out for him to come back, wanting to just explain what you had meant and apologize. Though, you gave up.

Walking through the crowd, going unnoticed was particularly hard when guests would bow their heads to you or would try to talk. You were rather tired and wish to head inside the castle to rest. You were able to chat with your father before he decided to join you as well to head back inside the castle to also rest.

The cold air in your room nipped at your skin, but you were soothed by it.

Your handmaidens had started attending to you in your guest chambers that you share with Lysanna. They unlaced your black dress and helped you out of your corset while undoing your braided hair that was kept in a updo, naturally, your hair curled from the braids and it had looked very gorgeous on you. As they took off your underdress, you placed your precious rings by the bedside for safekeeping. The handmaidens put you in a silver nightgown that reached your knees and had extremely long silts on the sides of the gown, the chest area was lined with golden lace and a tied ribbon. As you thanked your handmaidens before watching them excuse themselves from your chambers, you were now underneath the covers of your bed that was facing the opposite direction to Lysanna’s bed.

The starry night sky outside the window had stolen your attention—you began to count each of the stars until you had the ability to fall asleep. You caught glimpse of a dragon roaming the skies once again, with your eyes squinted to see if you weren’t imagining it but you were right. The dragon was too big to be Sunfyre or Caraxes but too dark to be Meraxes or Dreamfyre.

It must be Vhagar having a nightly stroll, you thought. With a yawn, you began drifting into slumber. It felt like a quick nap until you were roughly shoved to wake up. From the sudden shove, you quickly opened your eyes to see your handmaiden, who looked rather scared. You had no time to react before she pointed to the hall for you to follow in pursuit.

Shoeless and robeless, you ran down the halls with your handmaiden leading the way before you stood in front of the great throne room of Driftmark castle, everyone was up, including the King.

“There she is—the Princess! I am sure she knows what had happened.”

“You dare accuse my daughter? She certainly had no part in this!”

Under the eyes of the people in the room, you felt naked in front of them. Wearing nothing but your nightgown.

Queen Alicent stared over to you, a frown upon her face “My dearest,” you were unaware of what was happening before Rhaenyra held onto your shoulder, protectively, as she glared at the Queen.

You look to see your nephews, holding onto each other—bloodied and frightened. The sight almost put tears in your eyes while your mind was racing with so many worries before you had turn to see Aemond, who was seated on a chair, with a wound that was stitched on his left eye. At the mere sight, you feel eyes widened and you immediately cried out,

“Aemond!” you yelled in shock and quickly ran to your brother’s side. Panicked, certainly, you looked at his stitches while your brother refused to face you. There was shame across his features as he said nothing to you. “What has happened to my brother?! Tell me who done this to the Prince?!”

“Ask your nephews, sweetheart.” Alicent had said, her voice full of sorrow as she glared at them from across the room. Looking across the room, you saw your nephews continuing to cling to each other. Their injuries were nothing compared to your brother’s but still, you couldn’t help but give them a sadden look, you were still worried for them. “They were the ones who permanently damaged your brother.”

“Surely…there’s must be a misunderstanding, my Queen..”

You did not have time to defend your nephews before Alicent grasped your shoulders. The gasps of the audience falling on deaf ears. You were forced to look inside the Queen’s desperate eyes.

“Have you encouraged Aemond to mount that creature? Speak the truth! The whole of it!” she shouted, pleadingly. You winced from the tight grip she had on you.

“I have no idea what you’re implying!” you said with confusion. Rhaenyra wanting to come to your rescue but quickly, Lord Corlys stopped her.

”Alicent! Let go of my daughter at once!” The King ordered, the Queen held her eyes upon you before she had finally let go of you. She began realizing what she had done to you, and softened her gaze before trying to soothe you by holding you into her arms. Whispering in your ears that she did not mean to hurt you and how she only wanted your piece of the truth.

“The Princess had nothing to do with it, cousin.” Lysanna quickly came to your defense. She absolutely looked petrified but tried staying strong—only for you. Her expression filled with emotions that it broke you into pieces.

“It is the truth.” Aemond added, he lied. For you.

As questions were asked, the children only started to shout many things:

“They attacked me!”

“He attacked Baela!”

“He broke Luke’s nose!”

“He stole my mother’s dragon!”

“He was gonna kill Jace!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“I only wanted to see Liz!”

“SILENCE!” your father yelled, it echoed through the halls and it immediately shut everyone up. You all stood there—not knowing what to do or say. Your father turned to order Lysanna to speak of what happened.

With a nod, you let go of Lysanna as she was forced to be the center of attention, Alicent had kept herself nearby, wanting the truth so desperately.

“Aemond and I had came across Vhagar as we explored the island,” Lysanna explained, she clinged onto her fur coat as she spoke, “Aemond was successful on bonding with the large dragon, he wanted me to come along on dragonback. When we came back, the children were there, waiting for us…it was unfortunate, many harsh words were said..but it happened so quickly..I couldn’t do anything except watch.”

Once Lysanna had told what she had witness (though, you believed she left out very important details in hopes to protect the boys.) She stayed by your side, clasping her hand into yours, you felt her palm laced in sweat. She was nervous.

“Aemond called us…bastards.”

You froze. You turned to look at your nephew. He separated himself from Luke while staring in your eyes. You didn’t know what to say.

“Jace..” Rhaenyra cautioned and gently pulled him by his shoulder and brought him close.

Stunned silence filled the crowded room and you feel yourself struggle to process what Jace had said. You analyzed your nephews—Luke had blood covering his face, dried tears had stained his cheeks. Your poor nephew clouding your mind, the sweet child is the youngest out of everyone and yet had to hear those words from your brother.

Aemond flinched at the way your father spoke to him. He stared back at you, but he didn’t say anything, he knew you were disappointed in him. The expression on him was filled with shame when you turned away.

“You tell me, Boy. Where did you hear this lie?” Viserys demanded, Aemond only continued to sit in silence, “I asked you a question. Aemond, Look at me.” you winced at the way your father tried to pry the answer out of your brother, “Your King demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”

He was hesitant to answer, looking over to his mother for help but quickly Viserys followed his gaze. Not only seconds later, Aemond finally answered,

“It was Aegon,” Aemond responded, “Right after he had put his hands on the Princess Y/n, as a fit of rage.”

Even if you were enraged with Aemond right now, he still kept his promise.

He was going to protect you. No matter what.

“What? Me?”

Aegon was baffled by the way Aemond quickly lied and threw him under the bus.

King Viserys limped his way towards Aegon—absolutely disgusted by what he was told. You had not expected the many eyes that were placed on you once again. But after hearing about the Prince assaulting you, it was to be expected. They had witness the developing bruise that was on your jaw and neck.

“And you, Boy?” Viserys seethed, his words filled with venom. You felt your hands tightly clinged to Lysanna’s. “You dare lay your filthy hands on my daughter? Your elder sister?” Viserys fumed, Aegon had avoided his fury gaze, avoiding to answer the King for what he had done to you. “And where did you hear such calumnies?…Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!”

In mere seconds after Viserys had yelled once again, Aegon was forced into spilling, but it was clear that he was nervous from the way he flinched,

“We know, father,” Aegon responded, “we all know..just look at them.” he turned to give your nephews a look of disgust, one that you would not forget.

Rhaenyra sighed as she comforted her young boys from the embarrassment that was laid upon them. You stared at your feet and felt someone hold your hand. Looking to your side, it was your nephew, your instinct had you quickly burying him in your embrace. A desperate sigh left your lips. Jace laid his head on your chest and held onto your waist, protectively. Even if the tension in the room became thicker because of what Aegon said, he tried his best to seem strong. His eyes filled of rage while they wondered on Aegon and Aemond.

Everything had come to a simmer when Viserys announced, desperately:

”This interminable infighting must cease, all of you! We are a family! Now make your apologies and show good will to another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!”

Alicent tiredly scoffed and began pushing even more, “That is insufficient. Aemond has been damaged, permanently, My King. “Good will” cannot make him whole.”

Viserys turned around and looked at her, “I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it had been taken.”

”What would you have me do?” Viserys asked, exhausted.

“There is a debt to be paid.”

You watched eagerly as Alicent argue with the King. If you had not known what Aemond had spurred out then you would’ve understood the Queen and her frustrations. But your brother had accused your sister’s family. Serious accusations that could have them all killed.

A silence overtook the room once again and your eyes trained over to Alicent. She looked over at Rhaenyra.

“I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return.”

The crowd all collectively gasped.

Aemond looked towards your nephew. Jace’s heart pounded against his chest. Instinctively, wrapping your arms around your nephew, you held him close as you moved to stand in front of your other nephew, Luke.

“My dear wife,” Viserys’ eyes widened at her suggestion.

”He is your son, Viserys. Your blood!” Alicent sobbed.

Viserys walked towards her, “Do not… allow your temper to guide your judgement.” He warned, but it could not reach Alicent.

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will.” She insisted, “Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” She ordered, mercilessly.

Luke panicked. You could see the fear in your sister’s eyes as she threw her sons, Lysanna and yourself behind her, as a way to protect all of you. You gave Lysanna a look of pure shock as she returned with the same look on her face as well. You both were still under the confusion of what is happening right now. Lysanna never knew this side of her cousin, Alicent.

“He can choose which eye to keep,” Alicent decided, “a privilege he did not grant my son.”

Rhaenyra sharply maintained her composer, “You will do no such thing.”

”Stay your hand.”

”No! You are sworn to me!” Alicent commanded.

Ser Criston muttered, with the intent of following orders from his Queen, “As your protector, my Queen.”

“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” Viserys asked, firmly. Alicent returned the look back to him, figuring. “And let it be known, anyone whose tongue dares to question the brith of the Princess Rhaenyra’s children shall have it removed.”

“Thank you, Father.” your sister gratefully expressed , nudged the four of you to head to your chambers. Suddenly you heard screams of your youngest nephew. Frantic voices, terrified eyes, witnessing Alicent making her way towards you and your family. You came into view, trying to protect your family from the Queen until you were roughly shoved,

“Hold your approach—!”

”Do not, Ser Criston!”

You were now being shielded by Lysanna who faithfully moved her arm before you from Ser Criston who had tried to come after you, it seems, but your uncle caught on what the sworn knight was trying to do and immediately protected you by holding off Ser Criston. You panicked as Rhaenyra forcefully pushed Alicent back. The Queen had a blade in her hand. The same blade that your father had shown you many times since you were just a babe. A blade passed down from the Conqueror himself.

“You have gone too far.” Rhaenyra urged.

Alicent fought back, she looked exhausted, like she had finally snapped, ”I? Have I done? But what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law…as you flout all to do as you please.”

“Alicent! Let her go!” your father’s demands fell on deaf ears.

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again. You have poisoned my sweet cousin’s mind, took off with my daughter, and now you take my son’s eye, and to even that, you feel entitled.” Alicent continued.

Rhaenyra felt twisted at those words and only showed more authority.

”Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness.” your sister had whispered something that you cannot hear nor the people in the room. Once the two finally separated, the slice of the sword echoed in the room, you and Lord Corlys had immediately caught your sister before she could stumble, everyone all watched in fright as blood dripped from Rhaenyra’s arm.

The blood was as red as the color of your gowns, the gowns you wore of pride and honor to show loyalty to your house.

Once the weapon fell to the ground, Alicent had realized, she had hurt the Princess.

Your brother got up from his seat and made his way towards his mother, “Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye but I gained a dragon.”

The words were now forever embedded into your head. Your face broke at the fact that this whole thing was mainly your fault.

If you had not encouraged your brother to the point that he took the liberty of even approaching the huge beast,

then his eye wouldn’t be gone, the question of your nephews’ parentage wouldn’t have finally been answered,

and the last essences of what bond the Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent had, was gone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

On the day after, you had spoken only a few words. You were mute. Lysanna tried desperately to help you out of your mood, but you continued keep your head down and your lips were shut while in front of the vanity as she did your hair. Even when she let your nephews in the chambers, instead of quickly embracing them and giving them a bright smile, like always, you did not turn your head to greet them.

Luke turned to look at you with worry, tissues shoved up his nostrils. Jace’s forehead stained with dry blood while having bruises scattered around his face. You could not face them. You knew you caused it all. Your guilt was eating you up from the inside. You wanted to just curl up in a ball and sink in the tub.

“Please don’t be sad, auntie,” Luke frowned, as he placed his head on your lap, worriedly. “It hurts me to know I am the cause of your misery.”

With your eyes watery, you bit your lip in shame. You pet his head, gently, while you still kept your head from looking anyone in your chambers. You desperately hushed your nephew to not cry, you wish to be strong for Luke so you continued to keep your composer.

Lysanna startled once seeing her cousin, the Queen, enter the chambers, unannounced. She looked panicked and nervous from what you could see in the vanity mirror. Lysanna, protectively, stayed by Jace’s side as you strengthen your grip on Luke.

The Queen cleared her throat as she played with her fingers, refusing to make any eye contact with the young Velaryon princes who were staring over at her, “I wish to speak with the Princess,” she quietly explained herself, “if that is alright..”

“Liz, please escort the princes to their mother,” you ordered, with a gentle tone and Lysanna only nodded and took Luke’s hand before leading the boys out of your chambers.

“What is it that you wish to speak of, my Queen?”

“Please…my dearest, I only wish to see if you’re well-“

“I am feeling well,” you spoke over her, without turning your head to acknowledge her. “if that is all then you may go.”

You saw her from the mirror that her frown only appeared sadder, she eagerly scratched her hands from anxiousness while not making a move to leave. It irritated you to the point you wanted to yell at her to leave.

“Rhae-“ Alicent stopped herself quickly from finishing what she was about to say, she looked disappointed. You wanted to know what she was gonna say though, she looked like she regretted it.

You gotten up from your seat and made your way towards her, she took a step back from how close you were.

“Do you understand what you had committed last night?!” you frustratedly shouted, “You had hurt the heir to the Iron Throne and even attempted to take my nephew’s eye! You have gone mad!”

As she stood still, she muttered under her breath, “Nothing I could say would fix what had happened but I do feel guilt, I really do. I was exhausted and shouldn’t have hurt the Princess.”

You continued to look at her with disgust and anger. Alicent wanted to win your favor back, it was clear by the way she wished to have you in her arms, she wished to relive the memories where you were a child and begged for her warmth, where you would sleep in her bed many times, where you would always sit by her side after feeling lonely.

“My eldest daughter…” Alicent pleaded, you could not describe what emotions you wanted to show and what emotions you wanted to hide.

“But I am not your daughter,” you started, she looked shocked at your words, you ignored her, “why do you try to convince yourself—everyone around us, that I am?!” You asked, bitterly.

Tears ran down her cheeks, she looked so scared, “You are my miracle,” she promised, “once you were born, I made a promise, to you, to your mother, to the King, that I would see you only as my own.” Alicent sniffled, you looked so heartbroken from once she mentioned your late mother. “You are nothing but my eldest daughter and I will continue to see you as that.”

“You were something close I had to a mother…” you muttered, your voice was betraying you. It was cracked and your step-mother had only tried to reach out for you but gently, you shrugged off her touch and she quickly retrieved her hands. “Even if I see you as a mother, it does not take away what you had done last night. You and your father made sure that our house is forever split into two!”

“We could savor the bond! It is not too late, my dearest-“

“And what bond of there is left?!” you angrily shouted, “you had shattered the last remaining of it.”

“I am sure I can savor it,” she assured, panicked, “once I have, then, you can come back to King’s Landing!” she gave you a reassured smile, more like she wanted to reassure herself than you.

You scoffed at her words.

She kept pushing, “You could pick whom to take to wed. Or I could annul the betrothal of Helaena and Aegon, you could marry Aegon and be his Qu-“

You audibly gasped at her words and cut her off before she could finish, “My Queen, have you not heard?! Have you not remembered what he had done to me? To Liz? To Helaena? To the handmaidens? How could you love me and yet want to see me suffer!?”

She seemed to search desperately for a response, “You and Aegon are a far better match! You are among the only ones who could help him become stronger,” she defended, missing your point entirely.

“I am already betrothed.” you spit out. You spurred out anything that has come to mind, a lie. A lie that could have you punished heavily for it.

It was Alicent’s turn to gasp, she look shocked. Shocked from how she did not know this.

“This…”, she turned away from you as she spoke quietly, “..this cannot be…”

“To whom?”

You weren’t prepared for that question. You did not know who to say. It was too late. You gulped before answering,

“To the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LORDDDDDDD😭😭 hehehe tysm for over 100 followers I appreciate it sm <3 you guys are so sweet for bringing attention to this fic! I am literally working day and night to upload chapters quicker😩 I have already wrote chapter 5 and 6 (Ik so fast) all I have to do is proof read and send them to my friend to check it first lol!!

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MASTERLIST

Don't Fear The Reaper (Dark!Tommy/ Part One)

Summary: After what was supposed to be a chilled night in with a friend you end up playing a game that unintentionally summons back the dark presence that had haunted you most of your early adulthood. With no way of avoiding the inevitable reunion you are forced to face the otherworldly being and the unfinished business he is set on fulfilling. That unfinished business, you.

Warnings: Language, angst, supernatural themes, dark romance, mentions of blood, stalking, murder, obsessive behaviour, controlling behaviour, dark!tommy (This is a dark series with heavy potentially triggering undertones, please read the warnings before continuing)

Authors note: This series is inspired by the song "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult, one of my all time favourite tracks.

November 1923...

" Today we gather in sorrow. In remembrance, as we lay Y/N Y/L/N to rest. A beloved granddaughter..." the Reverend said as he glanced up from his sermon to your grandfather, his eyes filled with unspent tears, a man of his time desperately trying to conceal the grief he felt at the vicious loss of his only remaining family member as he clutched his fingers around the single red rose in his weathered hands, scared and calloused from the years of manual labour he had endured. "a friend..." he continued as he looked at the many people gathered around the freshly dug grave, heads cast down, tears staining their reddened cheeks nipped by the cool November air of winter slowly approaching. "...and a blossoming love cruelly snatched away before it's time" he finished as he looked up across the casket to a man dressed all in black, his face concealed by the dark shadow cast by his peak cap, his eyes fixed on the muddied grass below him as a gust of bitter wind blew a scattering of dried leaves past his boots tumbling into the six-foot deep hole before him. His name, Thomas Shelby, the infamous keeper of Birmingham. " Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done..." the priest prayed, raising his hands as all those present began to recite the Lord's prayer in unison whilst Tommy pulled his gold pocket watch out, his brows knitting together at the lengthy time the service had already dragged out. He had things to do...places to be. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from, evil" the priest finished casting his gaze down in a moment of silence as Tommy's eyes darted up, met with the glaring stare of his Aunt as she held onto the Black Madonna around her neck. Her tear streaked face was visibly shaken from the anger rapidly coursing through her as her nephew dismissively turned his attention above to a hoard of black crows leaving their nest in a nearby tree, the ear-piercing caw of death parting in search of another poor soul of Small Heath to take to the underworld resonating through the gloomy cemetery. " We therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." the priest hummed as he walked around the grave to the man whose path had fatefully collided with your own. Presenting him with a small ceramic pot Tommy lifted a handful of dirt from within the jar, tossing it into the grave as he bent down on one knee, rubbing the remaining soil that had scattered on the grass between his gloved fingers.

" Let's give 'em a show eh?" Tommy whispered as he stood up wiping his forefinger across the bottom of his lower lash as he locked eyes with his cousin. His jaw tightening his teeth clenched, Michael was one breath away from doing something he would undoubtedly regret as Tommy, who was amused with the whole situation, sent him a playful wink, his cousin's angry demeanour clearly not enough to stop him from riling him further up.

" Tommy..." Ada sobbed as she clutched onto her brother's arm wiping her tears away at the tragic event that had brought this day about as every attendee proceeded to bid their final farewell whilst the coffin was slowly lowered into the ground.

" What even was the point?" Ada sniffed as she walked beside Tommy down the gravelled path. "An empty casket Tommy..." She said stopping her brother as she looked back to the workmen shovelling heaps of muddied dirt back into the grave. The finest casket made in Birmingham, Tommy made sure of it. But weightless, empty, a disgrace in Ada's eyes that her beloved friends body had not been found, the only thing left in its expected place a small pool of blood and a dishevelled flat.

" To say goodbye Ada" he said as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips squinting into the distance as he watched the numerous mourners part from the cemetery, the same cemetery he seemed to have frequented more than any other place in his lifetime.

" Shit. I'm sorry" she said turning back to face her brother and the solemn expression he had conjured up settling on his face. "How are you?" she sighed, concerned with her brother's wellbeing and the persistent stoic demeanour he refused to let falter, even in times such as these.

"As expected" he said flatly as he blew a cloud of smoke to the greying sky, rubbing his brow with his thumb.

" You can talk to me Tommy. I know you hadn't been together for long, but..." she said crossing her arms as she bit her bottom lip trying to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. "...you loved her and she loved you, any fool could've seen that" she finished as she looked down at the ground, a tear slipping over her cheek as she dug the end of her shoe into the grass whilst Tommy observed his sisters turmoil in the corner of his eye, something be had yet been able to muster up himself. " Fuck, who invited him?" she spat looking to Michael as he got into one of the many Bentleys lined up at the bottom of the path.

" Polly" Tommy replied taking one last puff of his cigarette before throwing it onto the gravelled path beneath him, stubbing it out with the flat of his boot.

" Well he has no right" Ada said glaring at her cousin as she took a step closer to her brother. "Y/N was scared of him Tommy. She didn't want to worry you but..." Ada sighed as she watched Polly follow her son into the motor vehicle that could undoubtedly feed the whole of Small Heath for the next five years. "She'd convinced herself it was him following her. And she's not alone, me and the girls from the office think it was him too. You need to do something Tommy" Ada added in a hushed voice, despaired that justice hadn't yet been delivered on behalf of her dear friend.

" And I am, alright?" Tommy replied his brows raised in irritation, his sisters relentless questions regarding your presumed untimely demise starting to get on his last nerve, the beloved boyfriend a far cry from the grieving one he had been trying to portray.

" Wait, where are you going?" Ada asked as her brother turned to leave for his car.

" Away" he replied shortly as his sister stepped in front of him, her brows creasing at the sudden patch of blood staining the collar of his freshly laundered white shirt, snagged by the sharp movement of Tommy's head snapping back to her.

" Jesus Tommy, what the fuck happened to you?" she said as she pulled his collar further down, a large cut that had all but been concealed for the entirety of the service suddenly making itself known.

"Must've nicked myself shaving" Tommy said dismissively as he pulled his shirt back up, hissing at the sharp friction of the cloth grazing against the bloodied wound on his neck.

" Nicked? Was you wrangling a wild animal whilst you was shaving?" She scoffed as she folded her arms eyeing up the crimson stain for a second time, the cut resembling more the grooves of human fingernails scratched into flesh than any injury made by the act of male grooming. " Tommy, what...what about the wake?" Ada called out to her brother as he ignored any further remarks on the suspicious gash to his neck making his way down the path.

" I need time to think, alone Ada. In peace" he called back whilst she watched from afar, an exasperated huff leaving her throat before grief overcame her once more and she headed back up to the grave to say her final goodbye in private.

"Fill her up lads, to the top" he said handing a bundle of King George notes to two more gravediggers in passing on the gritted walkway, his black coat blowing open as a gust of wind cut through the cemetery creaking the leafless branches of a weeping ash tree nearby. Lighting a cigarette Tommy looked up to the top of the graveyard, eyeing up the spot he had chosen for your supposed resting place as a devilish smirk formed on his lips, hidden to those nearby by the cloud of smoke pummelling into the crisp Autumn air. Devilish indeed, manipulative, a wicked lie fabricated for those that would never come to learn the truth of what really happened on that fateful night, all but two of course.

Pulling at your restraints you cried out as your wrists scraped along the ropes, the sharp burn of the twine searing your skin as the all too familiar sound of a car driving along the muddied grass haltered your attempts to call for aid. Cowering yourself into the corner of the small vardo you brought your knees up to your chest as the door opened and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the the room.

" Tut, tut" you heard him say as he grabbed your wrists inspecting your pathetic attempts to escape.

The man you had determined to have been following you, stalking you, now inches from you, his breath hot against your cheek as he leant forward gently untying the cloth from around your eyes, slowly pulling it away. He had fooled you into loving him, convinced you he had kept you from harms way, and he was back again to convince you once more into understanding why he did what he had so selflessly done. Albeit with a wicked grin mischievously playing on the corner of his mouth.

"Tommy..."

" Hello darling"

November 2023...

"Fuck, shit...fuck!" You yelled as you pulled your hand from within the file of papers you had decided to spring-clean, a rather late spring-clean of eight months that was. " Fuck..." You resorted one last time just for the thrills of dramatising the injury you had acquired in your attempts to be an orderly person. Said injury, a bloody paper cut. One that seemed to have amassed it's very own heartbeat in the space of a few seconds. Painful, but not the worst injury you had brought upon yourself. The great stubbing of ones toe in the summer of 2022 when you decided on rearranging your whole flat during a existential crisis had yet to be topped. Avoiding the scattering of crap that now adorned your bedroom floor you headed for the bathroom to wrap your bleeding finger in whatever was available. Toilet paper should do the trick you thought to yourself as you grabbed a roll of Andrex Supreme Quilts from your bathroom cupboard, only the finest for your ass. What on earth made you think this was a good idea? You thought to yourself as you looked around your home that had started to ressemble an episode of hoarders when a small box peaking out under a stack of folders caught your eye, its recognisable pattern embellishing the sides of the cardboard making your heart skip a beat. " What the..." You said aloud as a heavy feeling of dread and confusion settled in the pit of your stomach, your eyes wide at seeing the one item that had all but destroyed any attempts you had made to have a normal life. The same item you thought you had thrown out along with all the memories of the years you had spent trying to understand why they chose you, why it was you their voices never left your thoughts in peace. Is that how it all started? Your ability, or as your referred to it, curse. A stupid board game that had single handedly cast you out from not only your childhood friends but your own family. The same family aside from your beloved granddad that had dragged you to every psychiatrist in the county, every priest, every professional that had prescribed you not with help or sympathy but the label of burden, attention seeker. But a child's imaginary friends were not so imaginary. They would seek you out, knowing you were their connection to the living world for years up until your early adult when another deathly presence appeared, one that stayed in the shadows, always watching from afar. He was not like the others, he stayed back, his gaze always hidden by the shadow his peak cap would cast on his face. And unlike the others he scared you, really fucking scared you. Picking the box up you marched into your kitchen throwing it on the table as you reached into a cupboard for a bin bag. You had been rid of him for years and you would be rid of this game too. After all, it was because of him you shut your eyes from the unliving, ignored their whisperings, determined to live a normal life as normally as you could. That was your plan until the doorbell obnoxiously rang five times in a row and your friends voice reverberated through the corridors of your flat building.

" Open up whore, I brought booze! " she giggled loudly as you heard her stumble forward. Bloody hell, was she already drunk?

" Helena.." you smiled as you opened the door to her standing with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice in her hand, hell-bent on recreating her teen years taking shots from the bottle cap. Oh great, she brought friends, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes at the two smartly dressed men behind her.

" You are a klutz babe" she lovingly remarked looking down at your makeshift bandage tightly wrapped around your finger with a kiss to your cheek. " Barneby and Hugh" she introduced you to the two men that had already made themselves at home, currently splayed across your sofa as the nauseating smell of their aftershave they had doused themselves in filled the room. You would never comment on the name anyone had been bestowed upon by their dear parents but, my god...had they just walked off the polo pitch? Londoners no doubt, private upper schooling you thought to yourself, your suspicions only confirmed when the tall blonde Hugh stood up from your sofa with his hand out for you to shake his accent quickly making itself known.

" Hugh. We work for Goldman Sachs in London, took a detour to take in the local..." he cleared his throat as he looked back at his friend with a smirk. Idiot. What an opening line, was he about to present you with his business card? "...sights of Birmingham on our way up north when one of our associates introduced us to the lovely Helena" he said sitting down on the arm of your sofa as he eyes roamed over your body. Detour... What did he think Small Heath was? The local petting zoo to gawk at, the same way he was gawking at you? Yes there was your average oddball here and there and the man that walked around town shoeless, regardless as to whether it was pissing it down or scorching hot outside. But it was your town, and you wouldn't have any jumped up city boy put it down.

" Hmm, how is the big smoke?" you quipped back as the perfectly groomed man with a suspiciously tinted beard grin widened.

" She's feisty Hughey, just how you like them" his friend laughed as his grin settled into a cocky smirk. Hughey...give me strength.

" Helena, I thought we was just gonna watch a movie get some takeou.."

" What the heck! No no, you're not throwing that out!" She screeched as she bolted up from the armchair to the Ouija board you had intended to bin. She was unusually chaotic than her normal bubbly self. The Smirnoff had clearly already been tasted, enjoyed and partly consumed, you thought to yourself as you eyed up the bottle missing a good chunk of it's contents. " I've always wanted to have a go with one of these. Why didn't you say you had this naughty game in your possession?" she asked clutching it to her chest.

" I prefer strip poker but this could be a laugh " the other Londoner remarked with a chuckle as he stood up taking the box from your friend. Could you will your curse to him, you thought to yourself as your eyes narrowed in on the game in his hand. They were getting increasingly annoying. Could they just, fuck off?

" How about it Y/N?" Your friend smiled with joy at the idea of exploring the supernatural side of life.

" I, I don't think it's a good idea" you said as you snatched the box away from the man who had started rootling through it, feeling overly protective over something you intended to discard of, a sudden longing to be comforted by your childhood companions, your only companions. Would they come back if you let them? Or had too much time passed since you had shut your eyes to the spirit world, since you had pushed them out of your life?

" Don't be a spoil sport Y/N" the blonde said prying the board from your bear like grip as you began to feel as if someone was taking a part of what made you uniquely you away from your whole being.

" We can't do it here, it's not the right setting" your friend said looking around your place wanting a full immersion into whatever overly exaggerated scene she wanted to recreate from one of the many movies or shows she had watched " Ooh let's go to that passing by the riverside. You know, the one from all the story's about the dark mysterious figure that resides down there as smoke blows from the old wagons chimney" she said grinning from ear to ear recounting the story every resident of Small Heath had heard since childhood.

" Helena, that's private property" you said as she began to drag you with her to the front door, grabbing your jacket on the way out as she linked arms with you.

" It's just a bit of fun, please? " she pleaded as she waited for a response. A bit of fun, you could list a whole page of other activities that sounded funner. The first being getting take out and drinking yourself to sleep, the original plan for tonight. Could you risk delving back into the otherworldly land you had cut off? Had your ability vanished for good? What if they reappeared, what if he appeared the one you had been painstakingly avoiding for near a decade. It had been so long, surely he was gone, right?

"Fine" your reluctant response slipped out not wanting to be the that person as you headed out the door when just like any generic horror movie your friend was desperately trying to duplicate an uneasy feeling suddenly settled in your stomach. You had become the very character you would scream at your TV screen, violently throwing popcorn in its direction to not be a cliché and go into the creepy woods with a Ouija board, one slightly pissed friend and two idiot tag alongs. But yet here you was, about to ignore every fiber of your being telling your to turn back.

" Hello Mr magpie how's your wife and kids" you whispered quietly to yourself watching the black and white bird perched on a large log that had undoubtedly fallen during the storm that had come through last week as you clutched the thinnest jacket your friend could have possibly picked out for you around your body. Fashion over functionality, that was Helena's Moto you thought to yourself feeling your fingers go numb from the cool air of the bitter Autumn night. One for joy, two for a boy, how many was it for death...no fuck, that wasn't it. You mentally hummed to yourself as you looked around for a second magpie having forgotten the silly superstition your grandad had always recited to you in the presence of the blue tailed bird.

" Can warm you up if you like?" Hugh laughed putting his arm around you which you automatically shrugged off. " You're as frigid as this weather" he joked as you stormed ahead of you with an irritated huff, catching up with your friend who was a few feet ahead of you as your eyes darted around the open area surrounded by numerous large oak trees, the soft sound of the riverbank gently colliding with the muddied ground pricking your ears. As peaceful as it looked in the silver moonlight casting array of shadows onto the dewy grass you didn't want to be here, something felt...off. You was sure you had never once entered this area In your whole existence but yet, something felt eerily similar about it. What you wouldn't do to be in front of the comforting fire of your late granddads home, watching him nod off in front of the TV with a bowl of striped humbugs in his lap, his dentures floating in a glass of water beside him...not the most poetic image you could've conjured up as your anxiety started to make itself presence, but it was home, and it was where your heart was. Your thoughts had become so tangled, since he passed, uncomfortably intrusive. You felt lonely, so lonely in a world surrounded by people that life had become one long draining experience day in day out. You was desperate for relief from the crushing weight of the cards you had been dealt in life.

"Ooh perfect" your friend said snapping you out of your thoughts as she walked up to an old wooden picnic table in the middle of the passing, the worn emerald green vardo that had fallen apart like the rest of the upkeep of the area feet from you, silently stuck in times from before. " Right come on then, tell us how it works"

" Guys I don't think this is a good..." You started to say when Brian, Barney, Barneby, whatever his name was rudely interrupted you.

"You know what I think sweetie, I think you're scared" he laughed as he went to sit down, his nose turning up at the rotten wood he was about to place his Tom Ford three-piece suit that's trousers looked two sizes too small. If he was trying to accentuate what he was packing he needn't bother.

" You can sit next to me if you like" Hugh winked as you purposely made a point to sit across from him, covering your exposed cleavage with your jacket from his pervy leering eyes. The quicker you got this over with this the quicker you could distance yourself from these two imbeciles, you thought to yourself as you pulled the box In front of you, your hands tracing over the pieces of your childhood. The game in itself was pretty simple you each placed two fingers on the triangular shaped piece of wood and proceeded to ask questions. That was it, what happened after was open for debate.

"We call upon the spirit world and welcome those into the circle who wish to speak with us" you said aloud, your mouth suddenly going dry at the passage you never thought you'd hear leave your lips as the tall blonde seated in front of you scoffed at the words you could only image he thought were nothing more than absurd ramblings of wishful thinking.

" It's not doing anything" your friend remarked, now fully submerged in the game she wholeheartedly believed was more than something teens would play in abandoned buildings late at night, desperate for her own supernatural experience.

" It can take some tim..." You started to say as the planchette started moving, both idiots opposite you nudging eachother under the table as your friends eyes stayed fixed on the moving piece of wood, your own attention startled by the arrival of a dozen people slowly approaching through the wooded area, their deafening whispers muffling out your friends voice. Your eyes darted between Helena and the two men she had brought along with her, willing them to see what you could see as the small crowd of people closed in surrounding the table as they called out the names of their family. Mother's, sister, brothers, fathers, grandparents, begging you to pass message after message onward to their loved ones. "Stop..please..." you said quietly, closing your eyes as you pressed your hand to your forehead. There was too many of them, it was happening too fast. You wanted it to stop to just stop, just fucking stop...

" Enough!" A loud deep voice boomed through the crisp night air as the dead retreated back and the form of a man leaning against a tree dressed all in black came into your view, a cloud of smoke pummeling above his head, his eyes cast down at the ground as he rolled his cigarette between his fingers. It was him, he was back. " Leave" he commanded to the others as he slowly strode towards you.

They couldn't see him, why couldn't they see him? He was standing right there, right fucking next to you. You thought to yourself as your chest heaved up and down from the sheer panic rapidly coursing through you, your breaths coming in ragged shallow ripples as his black tailored coat grazed along your arm sending a burning shiver down your spine. A dumb game, a stupid dumb game. Why did you agree to this? You had unknowingly invited him back, summoned him after all the years you had painstakingly tried to keep his presence at bay, you panicked as you looked in the corner of your eye to see him rubbing his thumb over his forefinger, enticing you to look up, taunting you to meet the piercing glare you was certain you'd be met with if you dared to look his way. But yet you stayed motionless, frozen as your eyes slowly settled on your hand resting over the intricately detailed planchette as your friend beside you giggled at its erratic movements on the board below it, which either one or both of the idiots she had brought along with her were undoubtedly doing.

" Alright I've had enough, which one of you wankers is moving it?" Your friend Helena demanded to know as you looked across to the prick that had been hounding you since the moment he laid eyes on you, a faint smirk playing on the corner of his mouth when a leather gloved hand crept across the table placing itself over yours, slowly lacing it's fingers between your own. Your whole body trembling, you desperately tried to pull your hand away when the sinister figure standing beside you grip tightened, keeping your from escaping his inevitable presence as the wooden triangle started to move.

" Y/N…" Your friend said looking to you as the planchette stopped, your name having been spelt letter by letter in a gentle dance of toing and froing that swept across the board until all those present eyes widened not only in fear but confusion. If they weren't moving it, who was? Releasing his hand from yours he reached up, brushing away a lone tear resting on the top of your reddened cheek that had settled in the midst of the spine-chilling ordeal. "Babe, what's wrong?" your friend asked, your frightened, shaken demeanor concerning her enough to pull her hand from the game as she placed her arm around your shoulders in attempts to comfort you when you felt the very figure you had been evading for near a decade rest his thumb gently on the end of your chin, the sound of his leather gloves creasing sending a nauseating chill throughout your body as he turned your head to face him. And there he was. The man, the presence you thought you'd never see again, his face masked by the shadow of his peaked cap now visible to your eye, his ghostly pale skin brightened by his piercing blue eyes boring Into you as a smile formed on the edge of his lips…

" Hello darling. I've been waiting for you" he said as your bottom lip began to wobble, a cascade of tears now streaming down your cheeks wetting the leather gloved thumb still resting on your chin as he tenderly gazed into your eyes. " Shhh" he hushed your frightened sobs as his hand moved to your cheek cupping his fingers gently around the side of your neck.

" What's with her?" the man opposite your friend said as your gaze stayed fixed on the presence before you, watching the irritation build on his face at the the tender moment he had played through his mind countless times spoiled by he annoying chattering of the man accompanying you.

" You're shaking gorgeous. Offer's still there hm? Can warm you up in that broken down gypsy thing" Hugh snickered along with his friend as Helena glared at him, an array of insults leaving her lips. " We'd be better off naked though, we'll warm up quicker that way" he laughed obnoxiously when the presence before you head snapped in his direction, the blue hue of eyes quickly replaced by a sinister black as he threw the table over in front of you in one quick deliberate motion. With his hand clenched into a fist he turned to the man who had not only embarrassed you but insulted you shamelessly In front of everyone with the suggestion you were as crude as him, landing a brutally violent single punch to his face.

" What...what the fuck! What was that?" His friend stuttered leaping from the bench as he looked down at his dazed friend, blood dripping from an open gash on his bottom lip as Helena screamed in horror at what had just happened, her brain simultaneously trying to compute how it had happened. " We're getting the hell out of here" he said lifting his friend from the ground that was holding his lip together as the being beside you rested his hand firmly on your shoulder, squeezing his fingers into your flesh in a clear message to not dare move.

" Babe...Y/N we gotta go" your friend cried trying to pull you from the bench as you stayed seated and the dark presences grip on you tightened.

" Leave Helena " you cried not wishing harm to come to anyone else. He wanted you, he had haunted you for all those years. Your friend and the two men accompanying you were a mere inconvenience. And after what had just transpired, you feared what he could and would do next.

" What! No come on..!" She pleaded shaking you from what she thought was a state of shock when the man she had invited let go of his bloodied friend and started pulling her away from you. " Y/N!" she cried, the distant sound of her fighting with him as he dragged her out of the gated area slowly disappearing as you was ultimately left in silence, alone, with him.

" Please...let me go" you wept as you turned your head to face him.

" Let you go? I've only just got you back sweetheart" he said as he released his hand from your shoulder, his fingers now brushing through the locks of hair framing your face. " You invited me back love, and that was one invitation I could not refuse" he said as you stood up taking a step back when he reached out and grabbed your wrist." Now now Y/N, we have unfinished business" he said pulling you back to him, his pale ivory face inches from you, lips drained of blood tauntingly close.

" I came in peace, with no intentions to offend. I say goodbye and bid you farewell" you recited the words you had learnt by heart after any encounter you once had speaking with those from the other realm.

" Oh sweetheart, now who taught you that little rhyme eh? I'm afraid it doesn't work like that love" he chuckled cocking a brow at the idea that your silly little riddle would cause him to simply vanish before you. " My girl" he said as his thumb dragged down to the corner of your mouth, tracing the curve of your trembling lips, staring at you like a lover would gaze at their partner.

"I, I don't know you, I'm not who you're looking for" you sobbed as you looked down at your hands, clutching them together from the drop in temperature his presence demanded.

" Oh but you do know me darling. You know me very well" he said as his lips parted and his eyes drifted down to the soft flesh of your neck, down to the curves your blouse beneath your jacket hugged your body. " I've waited a century for this very moment, for us to finally be reunited. And believe me sweetheart, my patience is starting to wear thin, very thin" Is that what this was...He thought you were his dead lover, a reincarnation of her that he had been waiting a hundred years for, an anomaly where everything that makes something uniquely individual to them, their genes their likes their dislikes repeating itself into a second copy days, years, thousands of decades later, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened at the realisation of what he had been waiting for, what he had been watching you for as you turned to make a swift exit.

" I can't let you leave Y/N" he said as the large metal gate to the opening slammed shut making you abruptly stop in your tracks.

" I want to go home. I'm not her, I don't belong here..." You cried in a panic, turning back to face him as he strode forward to you his with his hand out, calmly waiting for you to take it.

" Then let me show you" he replied intertwining his fingers with yours as he gently cupped your cheek with his other hand, the welcoming chill from his leather gloved hand soothing the heat radiating from your reddened tear stained cheek. "Let me show you who you were, who you were in 1923..."

NEXT PART

Tag list: @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @prettywhenicry4 @smayhem

[redtsundere-writes]

Out Of My League | Kayn Shieda / Rhaast

Heartsteel!Kayn Shieda / Rhaast x f!reader

Part 2: Shotcalling.

Part 1. Part 3. Part 4.

Sypnosis: A chronically online girl trying to get out of the friendzone. Contents: Modern AU, High school AU. Friends to lovers. Fluff and some angst. No warnings. Word count: 6982 words. Author's Note: So... I wasn't going to post a second part but the guys in AO3 asked for it so here it is as well lol.

Two months ago, you discovered that your weird online friend, Rhaast, was the famous Kayn Shieda, one of the most popular boys in school. Luckily, this dynamic change just strengthened your friendship. Now, both talked every time you ran into each other in the hallway and played League at night while criticizing people from school on call. You were lucky to have his attention, even if it meant that your jealous classmates glared at you every time you talked too much to him. You loved this new phase, but you knew it would end soon. 

The school year was a month away and that meant two things. The first one was that the famous annual talent show was approaching. It was a farewell event your school organized for the students. It was an important event attended by students and the general public. At first, it was meant to be a one-time event, but thanks to the great reception it became a tradition. Your math teacher liked to encourage students to participate, so he always gave extra credits to those who did. Credits that you urgently needed if you didn't want to take summer classes. 

So here you were, meticulously searching for a simple song that you could play and sing at the same time on Spotify. You weren't the best singer but at least it would be better than just boringly playing guitar. You were lying on a bench in the music room. That oasis where you met Kayn. That embarrassing memory had transformed into a nostalgic one. You were still an introvert and shy, but not with Kayn. 

"Found you," you heard Kayn as he entered the room with his characteristic velvety voice. 

Your heart skipped a beat mercilessly on your chest like the first day. Your hands started to sweat, so you quickly wiped them on your pants. Your lungs were feeling out of breath with every step he took towards you, but you quickly regained your composure. 

"What are you doing here?" You asked while putting your phone aside, pretending that his presence was no big deal. Kayn threw a soda can at you which you skillfully caught. 

"I didn't see you in the cafeteria, so I thought you'd be here," he said. Kayn quickly noticed your guitar. 

He was an observant man, he almost knew your routine by just watching your behavior. The guitar caught his attention because you almost never brought it to school, unless you participated in class and you didn't have music class that day. 

"Are you going to perform at the talent show?" You nodded and sat properly on the bench to drink the soda comfortably. 

"I have to do it if I want to pass math. I'll just play an easy song," you explained before taking a sip. 

"Heartsteel will also perform. That means we are rivals now," Kayn joked as he sat down next to you. You rolled your eyes. 

"It's not fair, you guys have practically have the contest on the bag," you said while frowning. He laughed at how cute you looked when you did that. 

"Do you already have a song in mind?" Kayn asked curiously. He had never heard you sing, so this new side caught his attention. 

"Yes, it goes something like this…" You replied before picking up your guitar again. Your fingers delicately positioned on the strings and you began to play a couple of chords to create a simple melody. 

"Two sides to a story, but never tell my side. Never been the kinda guy to stay inside the guidelines..." You rapped like Kayn did in Paranoia. He laughed when he heard you. Not to mock you, he just wasn't expecting you to know the lyrics. He couldn't stop smiling as you recited his part perfectly.  

"No one can replace me, baby," he commented sarcastically while applauding at your brief presentation. 

"I know, but I am a close second," you said pretending that your ego was as high as his. 

He watched you closely as you mocked his narcissistic personality. He liked that he could be himself when you were around, but he still couldn't let himself go like he wished. 

"What will you do without me?" He suddenly asked in a serious tone, completely changing the fun atmosphere you had created. 

"We've been online friends for 2 years, I'll be fine," you responded with the same tone as you noticed his concern. Kayn shook his head at the response. 

"You know it won't be like before. When I graduate, I will dedicate myself fully to my musical career and I won't have as much time to play or talk with you as we used to," he explained with a melancholic tone. 

The school year was a month away and that meant two things. The second thing was that Kayn, a senior student, would be graduating soon. You would no longer see him singing in the hallways, eating with his friends or playing basketball. Also, he had recently debuted with his band, Heartsteel, and they had recently released their first single. That would mean he would be busier with rehearsals, fan meetings and concerts. Just thinking about it saddens you, but you knew that he was fulfilling his dream and you had to support him. You still had a month left so you had to make the most of it. 

"You worry about nothing," you told him before nudging his arm so he stopped being so tense. 

"You know that I will always be available for you," you smiled at him so he would stop thinking about the future so could focus on the present. 

It was true that you always wanted to be by his side, but he was a star and you had to give him space to shine. If Kayn was happy, you would be. Even if it meant that your delicate heart would be sad in the mornings when you couldn't see him in the sky. 

The school day ended and you were heading back to the music room to retrieve your guitar. You grabbed the sheet music you had written during the break once Kayn went back to his friends, put the notebook in your bag and hung the guitar on your back. You left the room and looked out the window at a scene you hadn't seen in a while. 

Kayn was in front of a beautiful girl. You recognized her easily given her good reputation as the captain of the school’s volleyball team. With just a glance, it was obvious how good they looked together. Did you look like that next to him? Most likely you looked like one of his eager fans. 

She handed him an envelope decorated with hearts and kisses. She was confessing her love to him and he was receiving it. One after another, Rhaast used to tell you that he dated a new girl every week because “there's Rhaast for everyone,” or that's what he always used to say on call. You had already gotten used to seeing that scene in the distance many times when it came to the out of league Kayn, but this time it was different. Because you were close to him, you now felt like you had a chance to confess your feelings with ease and that's why you were jealous of the captain. Now you understood your jealous classmates, you had become one of them. 

If your time with Kayn was limited, you had to make the most of it. You had to confess no matter the outcome. Sure, you were afraid that he would cruelly reject your feelings but you didn't care. You wanted to tell Kayn everything your heart had been locking up since you first saw him. 

If you were going to confess, you were going to do it in Kayn's style. You were going to give him the best confession he had ever seen in his life, so you could stand out among your pretty rivals. You were going to write him a song and perform it in front of the whole school at the talent show. Did you know how to write a song? No. Were you ready to sing your feelings in front of a large audience? Also no, but that would be a problem for the future you. You had to do it to make the most out of the opportunity. 

You watched tutorials on YouTube on how to compose music, you researched how to write romantic lyrics, and you asked your friends on Discord what they thought of how the song was turning out. Some showed their support while others made fun of you, but that didn't matter to you in the slightest. Your confidence was the highest it has ever been and no one could take away your motivation. 

You decided to write a song about how Kayn made you feel every time you saw him, how you couldn't take your eyes off him even if you wanted to, and how you wanted him to look at you like you were the prettiest girl in the room. You wrote him a song to show him how bad you wanted him compared to the other girls. 

One night, Kayn sent you a message while you were focused on writing. You ignored your computer because you were repeating a verse that didn't convince you how it sounded with the beat. 

Kayn was in his dark messy room. The glow of his computer dimly illuminated his pale body. He frowned when he noticed that you didn't answer him as quickly as you usually did. He sent another message to get your attention, but this one was also ignored. “She better be showering or else,” he thought, annoyed. Minutes passed by and you showed no signs of life. Kayn had no choice but to send another message... which you didn't answer. This was really rare in you. “Is she mad at me?” he thought before starting to analyze everything he had said or done to find out the reason for your strange attitude towards him. 

“Damn, what did I do?” he asked himself, starting to worry. He got up from his gaming chair to walk anxious from side to side through the gloomy room. “Maybe she's talking to someone else,” he thought, looking at your Discord chat. Out of nowhere, a shirtless K'Sante walked into the room. 

"Hey, Kayn, can I borrow some of your shampoo? I ran out of mine," he asked with a towel hanging over his broad shoulder. 

"Do you think she hates me?" Kayn asked without taking his eyes off the unread messages. “What this have to do with shampoo?” K'Sante thought, confused. 

"Why would she hate you?" he asked, unsure if he wanted to participate in the conversation. 

Kayn trusted K'Sante when it came to talking about girls because he was the one who gave the best advice out of all the members of Heartsteel. 

"I don't know! I already sent her three texts and she doesn't answer me!" Kayn cried, desperate for attention. K'Sante sighed as he shook his head. 

"You're overreacting," he said, getting fed up with his friend's nonsense before closing the door. Kayn huffed and settled back down in front of his computer. 

Eventually you were able to rewrite the verse that bothered you so much and thus you finished writing the lyrics of the song. You checked your phone and were surprised to see Rhaast's messages. 

@Rhaast: League or what? (10:30 pm)

@Rhaast: Heeeyyyyy (10:38 pm)

@Rhaast: YOU CAN'T BE BUSY, I'M YOUR ONLY FRIEND!! 😞 (10:45 PM)

You didn't hesitate to call him as soon as you read those messages. Rhaast answered you almost immediately. 

"What did I do to deserve your coldness?" he asked, annoyed at you. “What's up with him?” you asked yourself. 

"Nothing, I was just busy," You said as you searched in your room for an excuse to give him other than “I was writing a love song for you.” 

"I was doing homework, Mr. Smith left us so many problems to solve," you said as seriously as possible to lie the best you could. 

"You better, you said you would always be available for me," Kayn refuted, less angry this time. 

"I'm sorry I have a life outside of you," you responded sarcastically. 

"I will always be part of your life!" he barked. Kayn was grateful that you couldn't see his cheeks slightly blushing for saying that so boldly. You smiled and shook your head. 

"Yeah, yeah... Are we going to play or are you going to keep yapping?" You mocked him before opening the game. Kayn sighed in relief after realizing you weren't upset with him. 

The talent show was two weeks away. You were practicing the song you had written in the music room. It was 5 pm. There were almost no students in school, so you felt comfortable practicing without interruptions. Your fingers slid along the strings to play the melody that you had worked so hard to compose. You sang what your heart wanted to say to Kayn but was too of a coward to do so. You were in your element.

"It doesn't sound bad,'' a voice said behind you out of nowhere. You screamed in shock and turned around quickly to see Kayn's friend, Yone, standing in the doorway. You were relieved that at least he wasn't your crush. 

You didn't know much about Yone. He was one of the popular kids in school thanks to his height, handsome appearance, and his piano skills. He was also a very important member of Heartsteel because he was the main producer and songwriter. You only knew that because Kayn talks about him from time to time to complain about how uptight and serious he could be.

"I'm s-sorry, I was-sn't expecting anyone here," you stubbornly said when you saw the handsome boy with white hair and red highlights, a perfectly sculpted face and a great presence enter the room. He approached you while analyzing you from head to toe. 

"Did you compose that?" He asked skeptically before taking your sheet music notebook. 

"Ah y-yes, it's the firs-st one I w-write," you responded, avoiding his intense gaze as he flipped through your sheet music and notes. 

Yone knew perfectly well who you were. You were Kayn's closest friend, which is already a pretty impressive title considering Kayn has no friends. He might have many acquaintances, but he could count his true friends with one hand. He knew you were nice, funny, good at playing League and liked to play guitar. Yone didn't really care, but Kayn couldn't stop talking about you. He was surprised at your apparent interest in writing music since his friend had never mentioned it. 

"Is it for Kayn?" He asked directly about the song. Your eyes widened at how quickly he deciphered the lyrics.

"What?! Of course not!" You blurted out blushing. Yone gave you a dubious look as he handed your notebook back. 

"By the color of your face, I can determine that you are lying" Your head fell in defeat. 

"Please don't tell Kayn. It's a surprise," You begged. Yone nodded in camaraderie. As a songwriter, he understood that songs are sacred and confidential until one wishes to share them. 

"Your song has potential, is it the one you will perform in the talent show?" he inquired. You just nodded. His serious expression did not allow you to decipher his true intentions. 

"Do you think Kayn will like it?" You asked him with a light blush running down your cheeks in awkwardness. Yone thought about his answer. 

"I've never seen Kayn listening to a romantic ballad, that sounds more like Ezreal's style," Yone answered as he approached one of the storage lockers in the room. The reason he was there was to get back some amplifiers he had lent to a classmate.  

"But I can help you produce something he will like," he offered before stuffing the amps into his backpack. 

"Will you really help me?" You asked excitedly. 

"I like supporting new artists and I think I can polish the rough diamond you have in your hands," he explained, pointing to the music sheet. You smiled and thanked his kind offer. 

And like that, the days went by. Yone would invite you to his production room from time to time to work on the song. Together began to change some verses so that the lyrics flowed better. Yone changed your acoustic guitar for an electric one. You recorded your voice while he worked on uniting all the sounds to create a song so you could proclaim your love. 

Both were listening to the final version of the song. It was direct and fierce. The sound of the guitar next to the drums was made to catch anyone's attention, but it would definitely catch Kayn's. When it finished, you applauded the wonderful job Yone had done. 

"It's such a bop!" You shouted excitedly, unable to believe that you were the one singing. 

"Kayn won't know what hit him when I perform this bad boy!" You said enthusiastically. Yone smiled softly seeing you with so much energy, something that was unusual in you. 

"Can I ask you something?" Yone said. You looked at him curiously.

"Why don't you just tell him this in private? Why composing  and singing a song in front of everyone? Doesn't sound like something you'd do," Yone asked.

"Because I want him to look at me the way I look at him when he's on stage. I want him to see that I understand him and that I'm cool as well so that he wants to be with me," you explained with a smile plastered on your face thinking about his reaction. Yone nodded before saving the song file to his computer. You got up from your seat to grab your things. 

"You have something else to do?" You asked him. Yone said no. 

"I'll treat you to a coffee, it's the least I can do after tolerating me these couple weeks," You invited. Yone giggled. 

"Believe me, Kayn and the guys are lucky they're talented." He said tiredly. You just limited yourself to laugh. 

Both arrived at a coffee shop near Yone's apartment and ordered delicious drinks. You sat on a comfortable couch to enjoy your coffees while bossa nova covers played in the background. You liked Yone, he could be serious and a little bitter, but he was very kind. It was like you were hanging out with a cat. 

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Yone asked while shaking his cold brew so that the ice would cool the coffee he was about to drink. 

Tomorrow was the talent show. Your nervous body was shaking but your mind was excited to finally show Kayn what you've been working on for him. 

"Yes, I'll practice all night and put on a nice outfit," you answered confidently. Yone sipped his drink as he watched you excitedly talking about your outfit choices. “I hope Kayn doesn't ruin it” he thought as he focused on seeing you smile. 

The bell that indicated the entry of new customers into the cafe rang. To both of your surprise, it was the other members of Heartsteel, Kayn among them. Your body froze and you looked at Yone worried but he was as calm as always. You tried telepathically telling him not to say anything about the song, but he already knew that. Sett became aware of your presence as soon as he entered. 

"Hey, Yone. I thought you said you'd be busy," Sett said as he approached you and the other members followed him. 

Kayn didn't know what to say as soon as he saw you sitting so closely to Yone. "What's going on here?" he wondered as his gaze bounced between you and his friend. You looked nervous, like you had been caught red-handed. 

"I was busy," Yone answered, pointing in your direction. 

"Doing what exactly?" Kayn questioned, placing himself in front of both of you. You were going to answer but Yone beat you to it. 

"I'm helping her with her performance for the talent show," Yone explained calmly. 

"That's true?" Kayn asked you directly with a grim expression. 

"Yes, he has helped me a lot," you responded nervously, which Kayn obviously noticed. 

He knew you were lying. You were a terrible liar. Kayn needed to know what was really going on. 

"Really? Because it seems like you lovey doveys are on a date," Ezreal stirred the pot without knowing. Aphelios whack him for saying such thing. 

Date. That was the word that broke Kayn. “Are they really on a date?” He thought as if he couldn't understand the situation when it was so obvious. Yone and you being alone, him suddenly being busy the last two weeks without telling anyone what he was doing, and that time where you took a while to answer his messages. It was as if Kayn had finally put the whole puzzle together but he was forcing pieces into the incorrect places. “They're dating” he convinced himself that what was in front of him was reality. 

"I have to go," Kayn said suddenly before quickly leaving the premises. No lame excuses, he just left. 

You noticed that something wasn't right when Kayn slammed the door of the establishment, so you got up and left after him without apologizing to anyone. You went out into the street and looked for Kayn to see which way he had taken. To your surprise, he was nowhere to be seen. “He's fast,” you thought before heading to the right… when Kayn had gone left. 

After not being able to find him, you sent him a Discord message to make sure everything was okay but he didn't reply. You decided to leave him alone and see him at the talent show. “Maybe he's just jealous that I became friends with someone else” you thought, trying to find the logic in Kayn's illogical behavior. 

The day of the long-awaited talent show had finally arrived. The school auditorium was filled with students, family members and journalists waiting to see an incredible show. Your nervousness and anxiety increased as soon as you entered backstage. Beautiful girls in pretty leotards, guys going over their lines and clowns bombarded your field of vision and you didn't know who to see. You held tightly the strap of the electric guitar case that Yone had lent you for the performance. You took a deep breath and entered the place. 

You ran into the Heartsteel members among all the contestants. Everyone was there except Kayn. “That's weird” you thought. Ezreal and K'Sante complimented your black dress when they saw you, you thanked them while stuttering because you hardly knew them. Yone asked you how you felt and you told him that you would do your best. 

"We'll go bowling after the contest, do you wanna come?" Ezreal asked excitedly. You looked around wondering if Kayn was coming. 

"Kayn is going," Yone commented to reassure you. In that case, you accepted. 

Just then, you heard Kayn's voice behind you... along with the laughter of a girl. He entered backstage holding the volleyball captain by the waist. They looked good together. Too good. Your breathing hitched and your heart broke when you saw them so close together. 

"See you later, beautiful." Kayn said goodbye to her as he released her so she could go with the girls in her group. 

Their gazes met. Kayn's heart sped up when he saw you in that pretty dress that allowed him to see your nice legs while yours felt like it was fading little by little. He approached you to look at you closely, trying not to say anything flirty.  

"First time I see you in a dress, good for you," Kayn commented, pretending he didn't care about your glow up. "That's all?" you asked yourself, remembering how indecisive you were picking out an outfit the night before. So much effort and all for nothing. At that unenthusiastic reaction, you only thanked in a whisper. 

"Hey, Kayn. You’re going bowling with us, right?" Sett asked. Kayn held his forehead dramatically. 

"Oh man! I forgot about it! I just invited a super hot chick on a date," he flexed. You couldn't keep listening to him. You needed to get out of there. 

"I'll go deliver my sound," you said before quickly leaving. You could feel everyone's eyes on you as you walked away, causing the anxiety to take over you. 

The Heartsteel members glared at Kayn. Everyone was confused by his asshole attitude. It wasn't new of him, but they had never seen him act like that with you. Yone was the one who was the most pissed off. 

"What are you doing?" Yone asked as he crossed his arms. 

“Nothing, I just said that I won't be able to go bowling tonight,” Kayn answered obviously as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

"Don't act oblivious." Yone scoffed, approaching him suddenly. K’Sante stepped between them to prevent the situation getting physical. 

"Guys, we just signed a contract, we can't fight now." K'Sante said trying to lighten the situation. 

"I didn’t do anything. I don't know why you care so much," Kayn said, ignoring his friend's comment.

"It's obvious you tried to hurt her," Yone said, pointing out his clear intentions. 

"Good for you. This way you'll have another excuse to go out with her," Kayn barked. Aphelios rolled his eyes when he discovered the reason for his attitude. 

"I knew it was about that," Yone said, walking away from K'Sante to make it clear that he had no intention of fighting. 

"If I had known you would act like an idiot, I wouldn't have helped her," he said seriously. Kayn was surprised to hear that. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, calmer, but still tense. 

"You'll have to listen to it yourself." Yone said before heading to one of the sound booths with Aphelios. Kayn just watched them in disbelief, still processing the information he had just heard. 

"Kayn, you must set your pride aside or it will eat you alive," K'Sante advised him before patting him on the shoulder a couple of times. Kayn felt lost. He didn't even know what he was doing or why he was doing it. 

Your mind was a mess. You hadn't stepped foot into the ring and you had already been knocked out. How had you gotten to this point? A few months ago, Kayn was just another cute boy and it was enough for you to just see him from time to time at school. Now you were here, holding back the urge to cry to avoid ruining the makeup you had done for him and that he didn't even appreciate. You were waiting for your turn to perform while you were tempted by the idea of ​​going home. “I'll just play and leave” you thought as you prepared the guitar. 

"You look nervous," someone next to you commented. It was Kayn. You dodged his gaze so he wouldn't see you sad. 

"I'm fine," you lied. He realized. “Now she is really upset?” he thought worried. You weren't just upset, you were disappointed in yourself. How could you be so stupid to think you had a chance just because you were talking to him now? 

"I like to think that I am in a place that I really like when I perform. Just think that you are practicing there and you will be fine," He advised you as he patted your head. 

Given the intimate move, you decided to take a peek at him. Kayn was smiling at you. This time it wasn't a mocking or flirtatious smile, it was a genuine and calm one. He was proud of you. Now you remembered why you had worked so hard on the performance. You wanted to see that look he was giving you in that precise moment. “Please never stop looking at me like that” you thought. 

The host brought you back to reality. Your turn had finally arrived. You took a deep breath and walked onto the stage. The applause of the audience received you warmly as you positioned yourself in the center with your guitar. You glanced at Kayn, who looked at you expectantly. “A place that I really like…” you quoted, thinking about the music room. You imagined yourself sitting on the bench with Kayn in front of you, waiting for you to play the first note. 

♫ This is the last chance. The only one where my soul overflows. ♫

Your fingers trembled as soon as you started, but you tried to maintain your composure. The drums sounded behind you so that your guitar was the center of attention and the piano accompanied your voice. The beating of your heart agitated you but the memories with Kayn calmed you. 

♫ Want to look you in the eyes. You are the lust that never managed to satisfy. ♫

Kayn watched you from the side, not believing what his ears were listening to. His eyes went up and down observing your anatomy. He wanted to tattoo your image in his mind so that he would never forget it. Kayn was speechless, but he didn't want to say anything because he just wanted to listen to you. 

 ♫ My engine revs when you're around. You set me on fire and I consume myself again. ♫

"She worked really hard on it," Yone mentioned approaching Kayn as music exploded from the speakers. Kayn looked at him stunned. 

"You knew," He said, finally completing the entire puzzle with the pieces in the correct places. 

"She composed it herself. I just helped with the instrumentalization," Yone explained without taking his eyes off you like a proud teacher. 

"We never went on a date. She's crazy for you," he continued. Kayn just smiled at that.  

♫ Give me a kiss, I’m only asking for one, my love. ♫

You sang from your heart. You no longer cared if Kayn stopped talking to you and left with the captain. You finally felt free. More than singing, you proclaimed each verse you had written with a passion that you didn't know you had inside. You loved Kayn, you loved him very much and you wouldn't stop loving him until he gave you a good reason to do so. You wanted to be always with him even if you were just friends.

♫ Stop my suffering. Stay with me. ♫

You played the last note and the applause rained down on you, but there was only one that truly mattered. You looked at Kayn applauding you, not caring if his hands were hurt from the impact. A sigh of relief escaped from your lips when you saw that he liked it.

You returned backstage to more applause coming from your classmates and Heartsteel. You smiled shyly as you placed the guitar on your back. 

"Wow, you really know how to rock!" Sett exclaimed, fascinated. 

"Thank you, I wouldn't have done it without Yone," you acknowledged him before looking at Kayn, making it clear to him that there was nothing between you. 

"You looked amazing, I knew you would do great," Kayn said before ruffling your hair in a friendly manner. You couldn't help but smile at the attention he was giving you. 

"Finally, what everyone has been waiting for! Let's welcome Heartsteel to the stage!" The host announced. 

"It's our turn!" Sett said excitedly as the members walked out onto the fierce stage. Kayn stayed back for a second.

"I want you to look at me," Kayn requested seriously before following them. You could only nod obediently. 

♫ Two sides to a story, but they never tell my side. Never been the kinda guy to stay inside the guidelines. ♫

The iconic melody began to play. The audience went crazy and people were singing excitedly. Several of your classmates crowded next to you to watch the performance. “Kayn looks great as always” you thought as you watched him rap with his cool flow. 

"I love you, Kayn!" A girl next to you shouted that you didn't see before because you were stunned by Kayn's performance. 

It was the captain. Kayn's girl. “Here we go again…” you thought before the avalanche of insecurities took over your body again. While listening to Paranoia, you realized something. “I already did what I had to do, now I can go home” you thought as you turned around and disappeared among the tsunami of students. 

♫ They prayin' for the death of the rockstar. ♫ 

The song ended. The members' ears were greeted by the roar of the public. Everyone was happy, even Kayn... until he realized that you weren't among the people applauding. You had abandoned him. A panic sensation took over his body and he needed to act immediately. He didn't hesitate to run off the stage to go after you. 

“You're so dumb, it's like you've never dealt with a woman before!” he thought, annoyed with himself before leaving the auditorium. His eyes searched for you in panic. If he let you go, he would lose you. He ran all over campus looking for you. He was grateful to have an athletic body so he could run at full speed after an energetic performance. 

He finally left campus and saw you sitting on a bench waiting for the bus that would take you home. You looked sad, as if you were holding back tears. Kayn ran over to you and pulled you out of your seat so you would get up. 

"I told you... to look… at me!" He said angrily with his voice cracking from fatigue. You were so shocked by the state he was in that you forgot you were about to cry. He was bathed in sweat, his hair was messy, and he had lost one of his piercings. 

"But I did see you, you did great," You said, confused. His hands wrapped around your wrists tightly carefully so he wouldn’t hurt you. It was like he was afraid you would run away again.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, catching his breath. 

"I'm going home. What are you doing here? The captain must be waiting for you," You asked, still confused. Kayn took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. He was ready to confess his crimes. 

"I lied. I don't have a date tonight. I was just jealous of Yone and wanted to make you feel the same. I'm sorry," He confessed heavily, feeling guilty for his actions. 

"What?" Your eyes widened at that unexpected revelation. 

"The girl is from my class and is a Heartsteel fan. She wanted help getting closer to Yone," he sounded like he regretted his actions, as if he were about to cry as well. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. 

"You look so hot. You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you," he said with a mischievous smile as if that was going to fix something when you were still more lost than a child alone in a busy mall on Christmas. 

"What?" You repeated, not knowing what to say. Kayn took your hand and pulled you to him. 

"Let's go somewhere more private." He said as he guided you. 

The school was empty because everyone was in the auditorium. Kayn ended up leading you to the music room. It was becoming a habit for both to meet there from time to time. A custom that, unfortunately, would last only a little longer. You left your guitar in the entryway as you watched Kayn trying to find the best words to start the conversation. 

"Do you know why my relationships don't last?" He asked, embarrassed. 

“Don't say it, don't say it '' you repeated to yourself in your mind. You knew perfectly well the reason. His girlfriends didn't last long because he had a mad personality. You had listened to Rhaast complain about his countless girlfriends for over two years, thinking how lucky you were to not fall into his charisma. Oh, how the tables turn, huh?

"Because you are... an idiot?" You finally responded. “Shit, I said it!” You scolded yourself. Kayn let out a malicious chuckle. 

"An idiot you wrote a song for," He finished off and destroyed you. You felt like your soul detached from your body and it didn't know how to get back. Your head hang in surrender. 

"Did Yone tell you?" You asked with a thin voice. 

"In the end, I was right. You're crazy for me," he said, still smiling to himself, but his serious expression returned when he remembered why he had brought you in the first place. It wasn't time to flirt. 

"But you're right, I'm an asshole. That's why everyone cuts me off when they realize. I'm not patient, I'm rude, I hate a lot of people, I drive like a maniac, I don't like being bombarded with attention but I also don't like not being given attention, and well, you know, a lot of other things..." He explained, still embarrassed. This caused him to recap in his mind every girlfriend he had in the past. 

"Most girls approach me because of how cool I look and am, but they break up with me when they realize who I really am," he explained. 

He also explained that this not only happened with girls, but also with ex friends. He told you that he used to be in another band before Heartsteel and that they kicked him out because he was a “troublemaker.” It was the first time you saw Kayn open up in such a way. He finally felt comfortable enough to vent to you. 

"Then I met you. We've been talking for two years and you never judged me when I thought I could never change who I am. Today you showed me that I can. I just needed motivation to do so, and that's you," he said before reaching out to take your hands. It was something he had done before, but this time felt different. It's like he was finally holding a valuable and fragile object. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, it's just that I couldn't bear losing you like the others. You are the most important person in my life," he said as he tenderly caressed your knuckles with his thumbs. 

The information was still being processed in your mind. You didn't know how to react, you still couldn't believe that Kayn thought that way about you. You were relieved that you at least had a special place in Kayn's mind, in his heart you didn't know, but in his mind it was obvious. 

His hands cupped your flushed cheeks. Kayn looked into your eyes, then lowered his gaze for a second to your lips and then brought it back up again. His thumbs caressed your skin with a tenderness you didn't think he was capable of. 

"I want you to be by my side forever," He whispered so that you were the only person in the world who could hear him. Your heart began to jump with joy upon hearing that your most precious wish was being granted to you. 

His touch felt like a dream, his eyes gave you warmth and his words were full of hope. You whispered his name, letting him know that you wanted the same thing. Kayn bravely reduced the distance between you. His lips brushed against yours and you felt like your feet were no longer touching the ground. 

Kissing Kayn was like sailing through a storm. His kisses were fierce and volatile but his hands running along your waist gave you security so you could enjoy the adrenaline. You hugged him by the neck to get closer to him, melting into each other. Kayn deepened the kiss, causing you to step back until your back hit the wall behind you. 

Even though he already had experience with other girls, Kayn was enjoying every second as if it were his first time. Their lips moved in sync as if you had done this before. He didn't hesitate to stick his tongue inside your mouth which caught you off guard because you didn't have much experience, but you trusted him and just let yourself go. 

Kayn ran his hands over your body without any shame. He didn't care at all if anyone saw you, he wanted to enjoy that first kiss to the fullest. The fingers of his right hand tickled your hips while the other one grabbed your butt tightly. It was the first time Kayn felt so grateful with the gods to be with someone as cool and patient as you. 

"Kayn, don't do that... Ouch!" You scolded him as soon as he bit your neck. He coldly planned to leave you a deep purple hickey for everyone to see. You tried to stop him but the vampire didn't want to leave your neck alone. He only stopped because his phone started ringing. He reluctantly moved away from your neck to answer. It was Ezreal. 

"Hey, Kayn! Where are you?! We won the cont-!" Kayn hung up on him because he had more important matters to attend to. 

"Kayn! Don't give me a hickey! My mom can see it!" You scolded him as he looked at you tenderly. He couldn't take you seriously when your face looked like a tomato. He silenced you with another kiss that you gladly received. 

Finally, he was all yours. You have achieved it, how? You still didn't know exactly how but you were happy with the result even though you thought he was out of your league. 

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[dustofthedailylife]

Inked Farewells

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Pairing: Alhaitham, Childe, Kaeya x (gn!) Reader

Summary: They get killed and someone else gives you the letter they left you.

Tags: Angst/No Comfort, Major Character Death (they die - no su!cide!), mentions of blood

A/N: Fun fact, I actually made myself straight-up cry with the Alhaitham part when I wrote it ;_;

ALHAITHAM

It was already late in the day and through the thick gray clouds, that had been hanging over the sky all day already, you could faintly make out the setting sun. For some unknown reason, you had been in quite an anxious mood all day so you just tried to stay busy to keep your mind occupied.

Just as you were about to sit down to read, someone rang your doorbell and asked for your attention. 

You expected it to be Alhaitham, considering how late it had already gotten. It was already way later than he’d usually come home from work. They must have kept him quite busy at the Akademiya today.

With a smile pulling at the corners of your lips you hurried to the door. But the person you found standing in front of it wasn’t Alhaitham. 

The picture that painted itself in front of your eyes instead was something you never wished to see. A pang in your chest ignited all the nerves in your body simultaneously and filled you with dread. 

Kaveh stood before you, his whole body trembling as he clutched an envelope tightly to his chest. His eyes were filled with a myriad of emotions, none of which were good. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes and his once-white shirt was now stained in a deep shade of crimson, along with his blood-soaked hands.

He helplessly scanned your face with a quivering bottom lip. Desperately searching your face for the words he wanted to express as if they were written there. But there was no need for him to say anything.

“He-” Kaveh began, choking on his own words and desperately holding back his own tears. “He wanted you t-to have this.”

With shaking hands, he handed you the envelope. The paper was equally stained with dried blood. Your name was written on it in an awfully familiar handwriting. Even and well-formed letters adorned the piece of paper. As you gazed at it in disbelief, your eyes began to fill with tears causing the letters to blur and become indistinguishable from one another.

“What happened?” You whispered, as you looked up at Kaveh, who harshly bit his lip as a silent tear streamed down his cheek. Deep down you already knew the answer, but you needed to hear it. To confirm it was the cold, hard truth.

“We were out on an expedition and–” Kaveh began before inhaling and exhaling shakily. “Suddenly we were surrounded by enemies –, I don’t remember what happened but there were so many… he sent me to get help while he fought alone, and I did but–” he paused as he swallowed thickly. “When I returned all the enemies were dead, but he– he had died as well.”

“This was the only thing he was holding in his hands. I believe he wrote it before he–” Kaveh pointed at the envelope in your hands before choking on his words once more with a quiet whimper.

You shook your head in denial, feeling how your bottom lip started to quiver and your chest became tighter. At that moment, as your knees gave away, and you dropped to the cold stone floor, all you could hear was your own heartbeat loudly thumping in your head and your own thoughts reciting a silent mantra over and over again.

No. No no no, this can’t be real.  

A wave of unbelievable grief washed over you, numbing your senses as you let out an anguished and pained scream. 

You clutched the envelope to your chest in despair hoping that the big, warm hands of Alhaitham would finally wake you from this nightmare. But you never woke, nor would you ever.

Because this wasn’t a dream. This was reality.

And the hands you longed for the most would never touch you again. The eyes you wanted to look at you were forever shut. And the voice you wished to hear had fallen silent for all eternity.

All you had left of him was the blood-stained letter you were holding in your hands at this very moment.

Between sobs, you shakily took it out of the envelope and started reading. Every word pierced your heart like dull knives, knowing it would be the last ones Alhaitham would ever address to you.

And the day he died, a part of you died with him.

To my Little Sprout, you always hated that nickname. However, I could never get enough of your reaction whenever I called you that. The way you always crinkled your nose and pouted always made my heart swell. It’s an image I have on my mind as of writing this right now as well. Anyway, as you know, I was never one for flowery words, so if you receive this letter, I’m dead. Please don’t blame Kaveh for my death. There was nothing he could have done to help or prevent it. I’ve lived a wonderful life and I have you to thank for that. You made every day worth living for and all I want to do with my remaining time now is address my last words to you. I die knowing I’ve been loved by you. That alone is more than I could have ever wished for. I want you to be happy and know that you made me the luckiest man alive.  Albi*. Please live a happy and peaceful life. I know you can. You’ve always been stronger than me. I love you. I always did and always will. Forever Yours Alhaitham

(*) "albi" translates to "my heart" in Arabic.

CHILDE

It was a cold and stormy day in Snezhnaya and a few snowflakes had begun to fall. The clouds were hanging low and colored the entire sky in a dirty gray hue. Not an unusual thing at this time of year.

You were waiting at home for Ajax to return from his mission. He didn’t mention where exactly he went. He just said it was a short business trip and assured you that he would be back by the end of the week.

It was now Sunday and you had spent the day getting everything ready for his return including buying ingredients for his favorite dish. You got everything prepared and all you needed to do now was wait for him to get here.

As you were lost in thought the sound of the doorbell cut through your thoughts and you excitedly hurried to the door, almost knocking a chair over on the way.

Expecting Ajax you donned the widest smile you could possibly muster before opening the door.

However, spotting who was actually standing in front of the door made goosebumps erupt on your skin and the cold air that wafted in from outside wasn’t the cause of it. A tall white-haired man with a long expensive looking coat stood in front of your door. The right half of his face was entirely covered by a black and blue mask.

You were certain you had seen him before and soon recognized him as some government official who directly answered to the Tsaritsa herself. You couldn’t think of a reason why he would show up at your doorstep all of a sudden. Perhaps he had mistaken your house for someone else’s?

“Good evening.” He spoke in a low, bassy voice.

“Good evening, sir. How may I help?” You asked reluctantly.

He asked for your name, grabbing into his coat in search of something causing you to be even more on your guard, than you had already been. Kept a close eye on the area where his hand disappeared into his coat. 

A gush of icy wind suddenly blew in your direction, pricking at your skin and causing you to shiver. Hugging your arms around your chest you watched how a few snowflakes got caught in the stranger’s hair.

He brought forth a blue envelope and looked at you with unwavering scrutiny. His presence was making you increasingly uneasy and as of now you still clue as to what he wanted. What was sure by now though, was that he definitely had the intention to ring your doorbell.

“Do you want to come in, sir?” you carefully inquired, stepping aside to gesture him in.

“No need. I don’t intend to stay for long.”

He glared down at the envelope in his hands before he redirected his gaze back at you with a still stern expression.

“Did he ever mention to you what his occupation was?” The stranger suddenly asked.

“N-no, never. He’s actually supposed to come home soon. So if you need anything from him I could –”

"No need.” He interrupted, pressing his lips together into a thin line, glancing at the envelope once more, before finally handing it to you.

He nodded once before turning around on his heel and walking away. He looked over his shoulder one final time before leaving your property, offering a brief “I’m sorry for your loss.” before disappearing into the snowstorm. 

The howling of the wind, the rustling of snow falling to the ground, and the pounding of your own heartbeat were the only things audible.

Your eyes fixated on the letter bearing your name written in the familiar penmanship of your boyfriend.

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, knowing deep down that this would be the last thing you would ever receive from him. These were his final words to you. Never again would he walk through this door with that warm, cheerful smile of his or wrap his arms lovingly around you from behind.

Never in your life had you felt so alone and lost as you did at this moment. Engulfed by a sense of desolation and hopelessness you dropped to your knees. Screaming out in anguish at the top of your lungs as tears streamed down your face was the last thing you actively remembered doing. The desolate, snowy landscape of your homeland muffled your agony and swallowed it whole, offering you no solace. No one was able to hear it. No one but you. Alone. 

My Love, there is something about me I had kept a secret all these years in order to keep you safe. Because the last thing I would ever wish for is bringing harm upon you. I will spare you the details of my occupation now as well for the same reason. But I just want you to know that I wasn’t just some ordinary toy seller. My occupation regularly involved dangerous missions. And if you receive this letter, it means one of these missions has successfully done its job. I will no longer be coming come to you, love. Please, do not look into the details of my passing. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I love you so much it physically hurts and the only thing I regret is no longer being able to come home to you. Please live a happy and fulfilling life. Do me this favor. In Love Ajax

KAEYA

As you were making your way back home from work, a member of the Knights of Favonius called out your name. With his hand raised and entirely breathless from the chase, he relayed a message from Jean herself - he informed you that she urgently wished to speak with you at the Headquarters.

Naturally, you wondered what the Knights could possibly want from you, so you promptly headed to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters after a brief stop at your home to change your clothes and set your bag down.

Weirdly enough Kaeya wasn't home yet either. You assumed he must be at the meeting as well and that was probably the reason you were being called to the Headquarters in the first place.

To your surprise, when you arrived at the Headquarters there seemed to be a huge turmoil in front of the building and many people were shouting something. But you couldn’t quite make out what all the ruckus was about.

You caught sight of Jean at the top of the stairs as you got closer. The moment her eyes met yours a knot of anxiety twisted inside of your chest. Her facial expression was unlike anything you had ever seen and made all your neck hairs stand on end. 

With a nod she motioned for you to follow her into her office. You wordlessly complied, slowly making your way through the crowd. All eyes were fixed on you and you couldn’t help but feel even more uneasy than you already had prior.

What in Celestia had happened here and how exactly were you involved in all this? You weren’t a Knight of Favonius after all.

Jean shut the door behind you and almost immediately asked you to sit down. Her furrowed eyebrows and her solemn expression further increased the unease you felt.

You slowly sunk down onto the chair in front of her desk, your eyes nervously fixed on her. You weren’t sure what you were doing here and why Kaeya wasn’t here either. You had expected to find him here since he hadn’t been at home either.

Jean was standing in front of one of the bookshelves in the room with her back facing you and her arms crossed over her chest and looking like she was ringing for words.

“Are we waiting for Kaeya?” you inquired seeing as she didn’t make any moves to start talking on her own any time soon.

“Kaeya won’t come,” she replied curtly with a low voice, grabbing an envelope from the shelf in front of her.

“What do you mean?” You asked in confusion.

“What I mean is…” Jean inhaled and exhaled deeply before turning around to face you. Her eyes looked puffy and red. Tears glistened in their corners that she quickly tried to blink away to put her brave face back on. “Kaeya won’t come, because… because he won’t come back at all.”

A single tear rolled down Jean’s cheek and even though she wiped it away quickly, but it was too late. You saw. As you looked at her it was beginning to dawn on you what she was getting at. You understood what all the ruckus in front of the headquarter was about, why everyone fell silent when you passed them, and why the courier had been so eager to find you. And also – why Kaeya hadn’t been home yet.

You slumped further into the chair, your eyes widened in shock, your hand covering your open mouth. You felt like you were about to pass out and Jean seemed to sense it. She softly called out your name and walked over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“We found this letter addressed to you on his desk,” she explained, placing the letter in your hand with a sad smile. “The Abyss Order, they –”

“Please, Jean. I-I don’t want to know.” You quickly raised your hand in order to shut her up. You didn’t want to know how it happened. Your heart weighed heavy enough knowing it did. And just knowing that they found this letter on his desk meant he knew it was about to happen.

Why did he never speak to you about it?

With trembling hands, you broke the seal on the back of the envelope to take the letter out that was written in his beautiful penmanship. You could tell by just looking at it that he had taken his time to address these last words to you.

And through broken sobs and with tears streaming down your face you started reading.

To my precious snowflake, Jean will probably be giving you this letter, tell her I’m sorry for burdening her with that. I’m addressing this letter to you because I know what you’re going to think. Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he talk to me? The answer is simple, my love. I knew this day would come sooner or later and I didn’t want to burden you, scare you or make you unhappy if I told you about it. I didn’t wish to taint what we had with this and instead just enjoy every minute I was allowed to spend with you to the fullest. Hey, don’t miss me too much, okay? But who am I kidding? Of course, you will. It’s me after all. Thank you for allowing me into your heart and giving my lost soul a place to call home. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I will forever love you. In Love Kaeya

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[littlelioncub43]

The Balcony Scene

Summary: A long farewell after a date night is nothing new between you and your very dramatic and theatrical boyfriend. Young lovers often find parting is such sweet sorrow.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warning: FLUFF. FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. You will need to schedule a dentist appointment after this, established relationship, idiots in love, they recite Shakespeare to each other because they're so in love, Wayne being one of those dads/uncles, kissing, very tame stuff, you'll love it.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: WELL, WELL, WELL. LOOK WHO'S BACK. Me. It's me. I'm back. I had this thought knocking around in my head for a long, long time and finally was able to get it out and completed in one sitting! Eddie seems like the type to be able to perfectly recite Shakespeare, especially after all the failed English classes— you may not come at me. Anyways! Comment! Reblog! Send an ask! A pigeon! An edible arrangement! Something! Let me know what you guys think! I missed you all hehe

Kisses 💋

—K

A soft song of the Indiana crickets floated through the summer breeze that brushed your skin, the sky was a gentle hue of all encompassing black, and the moon hung neatly in the corner of the heavens. The familiar block of the trailer park was quiet, the sleepy summer night lulled everyone into a trance at this late hour. Your night was divine, picturesque and flawless thanks to Eddie who always seemed to make any day infinitely better. He joked and laughed with you over the burger you shared at the diner, his effortless charm and beaming smile lit up the lamely lit booth you were squished into and sent butterflies fluttering through your entire being— even after all these years, you were still into him. 

Lovesick, is the word. Absolutely lovesick.

And Eddie wasn’t any better. 

The way he was gazing up at you from the bottom of your trailer’s porch, hands gripping the railing to be as close as he could to you without climbing the stairs, standing on his toes so your faces nearly touched while you lean over the railing to meet him halfway. Those puppy dog eyes that twinkled with mischief as a dungeon master, and glazed over with mind-rotting boredom as a student, were now dazzling with adoration as a lover. And damn, was a he a good lover at that. 

“You have to go soon, Wayne said you gotta be back before 3,” you whisper gently to your boyfriend, your hands making no motion to remove themselves from his hair as you cradle his head. 

“Mmhmm,” Eddie hums, clearly not listening to you completely. How could he when the glow of your porch light behind you made you look like an actual angel. You giggle and Eddie grins at the sound. 

“You jerk, you’re not even listening,” you chastise with a smile.

“I totally heard you,” he playfully defends in a soft voice, his eyes scanning your face leisurely. 

“What did I say?” You ask while you twirl a ringlet around your index finger. 

“You said that I should stay right here with you forever because you never want me to leave,” he grins again as you chuckle at his words. 

“Don’t you?” He asks and gives you his gentle pout, something he’s perfected over the years of being together: his eyebrows slightly pinched together and upwards, those button eyes silently pleading with yours, for your love, for your tenderness, for your sympathy. It always works. 

“Of course, I do,” you confess and cradle his face in your palm. Eddie couldn’t keep himself from you if his life depended on it. The collision of your lips sends even more winged things fluttering in your stomach, the soft cushion of his lips moving against yours sensually nearly sucks all the breath from your body then and there. Many minutes are lost in your sweet kisses, so many that by the time you both release each other for air, Eddie knows he’s late for curfew now. 

“Wayne’s gonna be pissed, I forgot to take out the trash,” Eddie breathes out humorously, his nose brushing against yours as he opens his mouth to speak once again, “he’s going to have my ass for not—“

“Enough, sweet Suffolk, thou torment’st thyself,” you press a finger to his kiss swollen lips, his grin grows at your words. 

“You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?” He recites effortlessly. 

“Oh, look who’s been paying attention in English,” you tease. 

“Well, if you’re forced to read the same stupid plays 3 years in a row, something’s bound to stick,” he jokes before continuing, “Now, by the ground that I am banished from, well could I curse away a winter’s night, though standing naked on a mountain top where biting cold would never let grass grow, and think it but a minute spent in sport.”

“O, let me entreat thee cease! Give me thy hand, that I may dew it with my mournful tears, nor let the rain of heaven wet this place to wash away my woeful monuments” you bring one of Eddie’s large hands to your cheek, letting him brush the apple of it softly before you plant a peck to his palm. 

“O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand, that thou mightst think upon these by the seal, through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee!” The porch light across the road flickers to life, a sign from a very tired Wayne for Eddie’s return, but you both ignore it. Eddie watches in rapture as you recite the lines to him, not ready for his short walk home just yet. 

“So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by, as one that surfeits thinking on a want. I will repeal thee, or, be well assured, adventure to be banish’ed myself; and banish’ed I am, if but from thee,” the sound of the screen door opening breaks your eyes from each other over to Wayne, standing cross armed in his pajamas under the porch light, “Go, speak not to me. Even now be gone!” Eddie steals another kiss just as Wayne clears his throat, his hands gripping yours in earnest. “Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves, loather a hundred times to part than die. Yet now farewell, and farewell life with thee.”

“Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banish’ed, once by the King, and three times thrice by thee. ’Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence. A wilderness is populous enough, so Suffolk had thy heavenly company— for where thou art, there is the world itself, with every several pleasure in the world; and where thou art not, desolation,” he whispers against your lips, “I can no more. Live thou to joy thy life; myself no joy in naught but that thou liv’st.”

“Eddie!” Wayne calls in a hushed voice, mindful of the sleeping neighbors of the block. You know he’s about 2 minutes from crossing the street to get Eddie himself.

“Get thee hence. The King, thou know’st, is coming,” you giggle and push gently at Eddie’s broad shoulders, “if thou be found by me, thou art but dead.”

“If I depart from thee, I cannot live, and in thy sight to die, what were it else but like a pleasant slumber in thy lap? To die by thee were but to die in jest, from thee to die were torture more than death. O, let me stay, befall what may befall!” His grins when you try to shush his growing voice, your shared giggles making Wayne shake his head with a fond smile. You two were making him sick.

“To France, Sweet Suffolk,” you push at Eddie’s shoulder again, this time he slowly lets himself lower to the ground completely, still gazing up at you from the wild grass as waves of hopeless devotion pour from him. Eddie’s hand holds yours for as long as he can, his fingers gliding across the skin to savor the sensation, your warmth. 

“I go,” he nods, shifting on his feet as he finally begins to tear himself from you.

“And take my heart with thee,” you watch Eddie take a tentative step backwards, towards his waiting uncle, your hands still connected as he takes another step. Your arms reach out, fingers laced together until the distance between you is too great. 

“Alright, love birds, pack it in,” Wayne quietly calls, trying his best to speed up Eddie’s slow walk home. Straightening up, you watch as Eddie crosses the street, his eyes never leaving yours nor his smile ever faltering. When he reaches the middle of the road, he offers you a wave over his shoulder. You giggle and return his gesture, your face burning with a flurry of feelings.

Another fit of giddy giggles overtake you when Eddie nearly trips on the steps of his trailer. He’s quick to recover, taking the stairs two at a time before lingering at the doorway to stare at you a little while longer, his own face flushed with his happiness. Half in and half out, he raises his hand to wave again when a fatherly grip on the collar of his jacket carefully pulls him all the way in, the screen door bouncing against the frame in his absence. With a content sigh, you turn on your heel  and head for indoors, turning to glance at the trailer across the street. There in the corner of the bland building, behind an aged window, you find the boy next door. With wild hair and a sweet smile, he bids you goodnight. 

Comments and reblogs are always welcome and deeply appreciated! 💖🫂

I no longer have a taglist! If you'd like to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library 💖

[yinsuniverse]

Shifting method list (25)

The Alice In Wonderland Shifting Method.

To summarize, here are the 5 steps of the Alice in Wonderland method: Lie down on your bed and imagine yourself lying beneath a tree. Recite shifting affirmations until you notice any symptoms. Imagine someone approaching you from your DR, then get up and go after them.

The Raven Shifting Method.

You basically lie down on your back in a starfish position and begin counting to a hundred while saying affirmations like “I am shifting,” “I will shift,” and so on.

The Pillow Shifting Method.

Write down affirmations and where you want to shift on paper or on google docs (you can also put your script under your pillow as well) Put the paper or device with the affirmations on it under your pillow.Go to sleep while visualizing your dr (desired reality)

The Piano Shifting Method.

The Piano Method is a really popular shifting method created by Amino user Cassie. It entails visualizing yourself playing the piano and then walking through a door that leads you to your desired reality.

The Mirror Shifting Method.

Imagine yourself alone in a room,Imagine you’re heading towards the mirror slowly.The ‘You’ you see in the mirror is your ideal being which you always want to be.Put your hands on the mirror. Your superior being put hands on yours.Emerge into eachother.

The Heartbeat Shifting Method.

The Heartbeat method for shifting realities involves listening to a heartbeat sound, visualizing that you are sleeping on someone's chest, whilst repeating affirmations until you have shifted to your desired reality

The Estelle Shifting Method.

Put on a song or playlist that reminds you of your DR,Lay down and visualize your DR and say affirmations.

The Julia Shifting Method.

With the Julia method, you need to start writing a script followed by a few minutes of meditation. Next, you should recite affirmations that relate to your DR. Once, you are done with the first step start counting to 100 and repeat affirmations that define your identity in your next destination. And for the final step, visualize what you want to later open your eyes to your desired life.

The Rope Shifting Method.

The Rope method for shifting realities is one of the most basic reality shifting methods, and many shifters have used it to shift to their desired reality. It entails meditating for 5-10 minutes and visualizing your subconscious being dragged from your body by a rope.

The Tea Party Shifting Method.

For the tea party method, you should begin by meditating and then visualizing yourself having a cup of tea with your DR version as you lie in bed. After finishing your tea bid your other version farewell and imagine you two becoming one. Once, you are awake you are expected to open your eyes to your DR.

The Cloud Shifting Method.

Begin your shifting by drawing your attention toward your breathing. Next, imagine your DR in the sky and specifically on clouds. Continue visualizing your DR until your current reality and your desired reality come together to become one.

The Tv Shifting Method.

Imagine yourself sitting on the couch in front of the TV. As you switch channels to find the right one, all of a sudden you should come across a channel that broadcasts your DR. At this moment, the TV screen will be your portal to your DR, but remember that you need to say affirmations to make your transition easier.

The Ballroom Shifting Method.

If you are looking for shifting methods similar to the Estelle technique, the ballroom method is the one for you. First, let your body loose as you listen to your favorite songs. Next, imagine yourself dancing with a specific someone to those songs as you keep an eye on each of their reactions. The moment you stop visualizing; your dance partner will ask you to follow him/her to the other end of a staircase with 100 steps. With each step, you need to repeat one of your affirmations.

The Train Shifting Method.

Imagine yourself on a train ride as you stick your head out of the window of the train. While you are gazing at the outside visualize scenes of your DR passing you by. Make sure that these scenes are accompanied by your desired affirmations. Once, the train stops running and you arrive at your destination, it means that you’ve made it to your DR.

The Staircase Shifting Method.

When practicing the staircase method, you should imagine yourself in front of a staircase at the end of which is your DR. As you take each step on the staircase repeat the necessary affirmations for shifting and when you get to the end of the stairs, you are supposed to come across a light, which will be your door to your desired world.

The Swirly Eye Shifting Method.

For the swirly-eye shifting method, relax on your bed and start counting to 1000. As you continue to count take some time to rub your eyes gently. At some point, you should start seeing a line, which would take you to your DR. Make sure you start saying shifting affirmations and visualizing when you begin to see that line. You are supposed to wake up to your DR by the end of this practice.

The River Shifting Method.

Choose a spot to relax and begin to count to 100. While counting shift your focus to your breathing and imagine yourself next to a river. In this river, you should see a reflection of your DR with the help of your visualization skills. When the time is right, try to dive into that reality.

The Elevator Shifting Method.

The elevator method is about visualizing yourself in an elevator, which keeps on ascending until you choose to make it stop. As it goes up, you are supposed to feel a rush of energy going through your body, which gets more and more intense as you head up. The moment you feel like you are full of energy that is when you need to stop the elevator and enter your DR. This method usually ends with you waking up in your desired state.

The Eleven Shifting Method. (Stranger things)

Inspired by a fan-favorite TV show “Stranger Things” and its main lead character “Eleven”, this method begins with you going blindfold at the start of shifting. For the second step, you need to relax by listening to Subliminals. Here, you should start feeling like your desired self as your current reality starts to vanish. To make sure that your shifting is working out, you are supposed to feel an aura of energy taking over your body.

The Sunni Shifting Method.

First, relax your body and mind by laying down in a comfortable position. Then, start visualizing your DR in every possible detail. To practice the Sunni method, you should be a person with a very strong imagination. Activate all of your 5 senses, when imagining things. Next, focus on saying the required affirmations until you begin to feel the shifting symptoms. If your practice was successful, you should open your eyes to your DR by the end.

The Hug Shifting Method.

If you are longing for someone, the hug-shifting method is the one for you. Start by laying down on your back and closing your eyes while imagining waking up in a room. After a few minutes of being in that place, your desired person should walk into the room as you hug them. Imagine spending a whole day together and later saying goodbye by hugging and telling them that you’ll see each other soon. When you are done, start saying affirmations before bed and sleep.  The success of this method will be determined once, you wake up to your DR.

The Valentino Shifting Method.

If you want to spend time with a specific someone, you’d surely love the Valentino method. First, you need to write a letter to that person followed by a script. Then, say shifting methods affirmations before closing your eyes. For the next step, visualize a room and open your eyes when you are ready for your DR or you can fall asleep and be in your desired state when you wake up.

The Intent Shifting Method.

With the intent method, you have to be ready for hitting the sack for the shifting technique to work! Right before falling asleep, get comfy in your bed and start imagining yourself in your intended reality. Once, you feel like you are about to sleep, tell yourself that you wish to open your eyes to your DR. The next time you wake up, you should be in your desired reality.

The Coraline Shifting Method.

If you have watched the “Coraline” animated movie or you’ve read the book, you’ll know how to perfect this method. First, you need to relax on your bed then, start imagining a key by your bedside. This key will open the door behind which there is a tunnel. After going through that tunnel you can open your eyes to your DR.

The Double Staircase Method.

In the double staircase method, you will imagine yourself taking the steps to find a mirror at the end of the staircase. Then, after you finish observing yourself in the mirror, you will turn back and find a door, which will take you to another staircase. At the end of the second staircase, there will be one person from your DR asking you to go through the door, which resides at the end.

A/N:How's it going everyone what do you guys want me to post about next :))

[clan-ackerman]

---mdni---

but like imagine ridding Dottore tho, thighs on each side of his hips, like ??¿ pls rail me, sir

----

he was busy. you were busy. he had tests and experiments to run. you had mora waiting to be delivered to Northland bank at Liyue on behalf of Pantalone.

you hadn't run into each other for almost a week. you just didn't have time for anything. until...

until you were going down the hall and patienly walking behind Pantalone as he was reciting all the expenses and all the money transfers - all the while you tried to mark them down on the paper in front of you - eyes never leaving it.

"Doctor." Pantalone said curtly passing by. As if that was your cue, you looked up.

"Regrator." Dottore answered in clipped tone, his eyes glued on you. He paused and then addressed Pantalone once more:

"Is your darling assistant awfully busy?" false sweetness was coating his words. His hand reaching for your chin.

"She's not for your experiments, Doctor." Pantalone pushed his hand away from you.

"Oh? Oh, but she is." Dottore leaned down closer to you.

"Miss?" Pantalone looked at you. You swallowed and gave unsure smile:

"It would be unfit of me to answer such question. Whatever you are implicating."

"It seems that my colleague isn't sharing you." Dottore sighed in disappointed and straightened to his full height.

"A shame. Truly." His hand reached to gently touch a piece of your hair and then with curt nod left:

"I must bid you farewell then."

Pantalone nodded and resumed to walk. You reculently followed your boss. Making couple of steps he said:

"You have five minutes. Go." He sent a look at you over his shoulder.

"thank you." You gasped out quietly and dashed into opposite direction, in hopes to chase down certain scientist.

Taking a turn on the right, you called out breathlessly:

"I thought I'm exclusively yours!"

At the other end of the hall, Dottore stopped and turned around to look at you.

"You know that i don't share." He answered, his tone gaining an edge - waiting on where this conversation is going.

"Are you sure? Back there it seemed different to me." you walked up to him.

"You are mine." He looked as you walked closer to him.

"Really?" you teased, now standing in front of him and looking up at his mask.

"Mine to build. Mine to break. Mine to protect." he said quietly.

"Hm? Are you sure?" you raised an eyebrow to mock him, small smirk playing on your lips.

"Mine to hunt. Mine to touch." his voice dropping lower as he slowly pushed his mask back up. His red eyes half lidded as he leaned closer to your lips:

"And exclusively mine to fuck."

"'ttore..." you whispered, your breath fanning over his lips. Just his body this close to yours made you weak in the knees and ready to do whatever he wanted.

----

"Ahh..." You moaned, your head falling back as you held up your skirt with one hand as the other one was trying to steady yourself behind on his thigh.

"Fuck.. that's it..." Dottore swallowed thickly his eyes falling to where you were sliding up and down on his cock.

"...missed you... missed t-this.." you leaned forward, your hair touching his chest.

"come here." Dottore's hand wrapped around the back of your neck to pull you down to his lips, making you place your hands on his naked chest that wasn't covered by the dress shirt that still hang around his shoulders. Your hips now going in slow circles on top of his.

For a moment you just stayed like that - your hips going in circles as one hand was sliding up to his teal coloured hair and messing it up even more - his hand squeezing your hip as other one splayed across your lower back to push you down whenever he thrusted up into you. Your breaths mingling in-between your lips.

"you're mine... aren't you..?" he clenched his teeth as he gave a particularly hard thrust.

"Ahh!" you moaned, voice raising in pitch: "your's 'Torre!"

"good girl." he smirked before his lips landed on yours. He wrapped his hands around you, feet planted firmly against bed as his hips pistoned into yours. Every single one of your moans were swallowed by him:

"i know you can... take it..." he smiled against your lips; groans and moans of his own slipping from his mouth.

"can't... 'torre... Gonna... " you cried out, nearing your orgasm as your head fell to his collar bone.

"eyes on me, princess" Dottore snarled, grabbing fistful of your hair and yanking your head up.

At one point there was a knock on the bedroom door, but you didn't hear it - your senses overtaken by the man beneath you. For a second Dottore's red eyes darted to the door as a wicked smile spread across his face.

Roughly pushing you up by your shoulders, he straightened you up.

"ride me..." he said, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. your hands rested in front of you on his abs, feeling them contract as he was nearing his own orgasm.

His one hand grabbed the hem of your skirt and held it up against your hip as his other gently traced your side and ended up on your clit. Expert finger tips rubbed quick circles, making your thighs tremble at his sides.

Another knock.

Your own moans and Dottore's heavy breaths drowned out all other sound.

"wanna come, sweetness?" He swallowed thickly.

"with you.. only... with you..." you nodded frantically, eyes locking with his. at this given moment they seemed such dark ruby red - almost blood like. if only you'd know that it's his favorite answer.

with sultry smile, Dottore pushed you harder down on his cock.

"do the thing.. i like..." he mumbled as his thumb did quick circles on your clit, alternating between couple of harsher flicks. whenever he did that, you clamped harder around his cock.

"f-fuck... princess..." his hand grabbed your tight.

"'torre ...!" you squeaked out his name. with on last thrust, his back arched off the bed as he came. the warm feeling of his cum and the way he was bitting his lip - triggered your own orgasm as your eyes rolled in the back of your head and trembling thighs locked around his. with one last thrust in your cunt he sent you falling down on his chest.

"Doctor, have you see-" a voice followed the click of the doors.

you froze on top of your lover as your eyes looked up at your boss, who turned on his heel to face away from you two.

in a rush you tried to get off of Dottore, your knee clumsily bumping against the side of his ribs.

"princess..." Dottore hissed beneath you, his hands flying to your hips and securing you in iron grip.

"Miss." Pantalone cleared his throat, back still turned towards you two. You were dieing of embarrassment and grabbing Dottore's fancy lab coat to wrap yourself in something.

"I gave you five minutes." Pantalone scolded.

"Lord.. I-I.." you tried to find words how to explain this. Dottore reached for his mask and put it on - slightly higher on his forehead. with dissatisfied tsk he sat up, swung his legs over the edge of bed and wrapped one strong hand around your waist and lifted you off of his cock just to playfully throw you aside on the bed.

you squeaked at feeling, your hands flying to cover your mouth. sending a devilish smile your way, he stood up and tucked himself away, but not bothering to zip up his pants.

"Your assistant is just too tasty, Regrator. I just had to steal her away for a bit longer. She's such a refined... taste." even though Dottore was speaking to Pantalone, he leaned to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"Unfortunately, I am a greedy man and don't share what's mine." Dottore straightened and yanked the coat off your shoulders, making you scramble to cover yourself.

Slinging the coat over his shoulders Dottore walked up to Pantalone and guiding him of the room said:

"She'll be ready in five."

As he turned around to close the doors behind both of them, you could see how his hungry eyes disappeared behind that mask that still had lipstick stains on.