#WHAT REMAINS OF THE PAST WILL LIVE ETERNALLY IN MY HEART | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

guacamoleroll · 6 days

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ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇʀᴄɪꜰᴜʟ, ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴀꜱʜᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ · ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ

content. f!reader. discussions of existentialism, small themes of bodily harm, minor suggestive themes, protectiveness, pre-relationship, jealousy, fyodor is bad at feelings. nikolai has a crush on the reader. huge manga spoilers (bsd 114.5). 4k+ words.

author's note. guess who's back .ᐟ can you believe it's been almost two months since i've written a oneshot? crazy. i have multiple updates, but i'll be quick. am i working on my 1k+ event drabbles? yes! am i making a discord server? also yes (but only open to mutuals for the moment). am i working on my fyodor-fic? yes, yes, yes!

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

˚.⁺⊹ ꒱ 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰. what happens when an immortal man is met with unwavering, unconditional human compassion and doesn't know what to do.

OR fyodor has never been treated as a human until he met her.

Fyodor rarely lingered on thoughts of the past. He never permitted himself to bide beyond the threshold of a mere glimpse, to observe under the guise of such mortal qualities as attachment and resentment. In truth, he did not remember his first death, the incident only an imperceivable splinter in the mind he had perfected. But the pain, a bittersweet edge as the mind scattered and the body ceased to function—he would be a fool to forget it. Death was not as merciful as the poets described. They comforted themselves with ideas of fulfillment and eternal rest, but they would not know. Poetry is written by the living, and the dead do not remember.

The sensation of foreign flesh encasing his metamorphizing body like a malleable cocoon became ritual. His complex existence became an easier pill to swallow with each death, and with it, his consternation towards the mangled reflection staring emptily back at him drifted away. Crumbled with stabs, pinned with nails, hung with ropes—humanity relished the thrill of the kill.

Sinful and foolish. Those painful betrayals of yesteryear evolved into the occasional reminder, lost of sentiment as he released his bond with mortal toils like companionship and love. He had taken his life, and subsequently his death, into his own hands. It made each treachery predictable and left his stilled heart impenetrable.

His most human aspect lay in his most monstrous one—his ability. Abilities were a two-edged sword, both a burden and a blessing. He was no different. Forced to remain outside the binds of mortality, as his existence remained a constant reminder of the cycle of life and death. Within and without in every sense of the phrase. A paradox.

He could not deny the isolation, but he would bear it for the sake of a sinless world. His brushes with enemies and allies alike became his only source of company. Yokohama had been his favorite; he craved each new day, testing their limits as his mortal mind yearned to find someone like him, someone on the brink of true existence—but he did not find it in his battles, nor did he expect to.

No matter the desperation of his centuries-long searches, he knew he would not find his match—they likely did not exist or would not for centuries to come. He observed the lives of hundreds over the years, yet, through generations, they did not stray from routine. No amount of transformation in the world could shake innate human composition, selfish and starved from birth. From dust they were formed, and like all before them, to dust they became. The monotony dullened his spirit—some said he believed himself to be God, but who wouldn't think of themself better if they were in his shoes? But he allowed the criticism, for he could not expect a mortal soul to understand immortality.

But he found a fissure in his journey.

Your first encounter had not been one of coincidence—the seeds had been intricately planted for months—and you were identical to everyone else, down on your luck with nowhere to turn. A talented individual primed for the picking, with no choice but to take the hand of a demon, who soothed your worries with sweet lies and a benevolent smile. Each of his subordinates had their own aspirations, easy to interweave into his own intricate plans, with them none the wiser. It was simple.

You were supposed to be that simple.

No one knew his true ability, whether he considered them an ally or an enemy. It made the truth pliable to his words and actions, leading others down one assumption or another without shining light on the truth. And he had drafted his subsequent death without a hitch, shot by a rash officer in the midst of a violent standoff, which would allow access to documents the man had been in the middle of delivering. But no draft of his death predicted a witness.

Your eyes were wide, frozen as your mind frazzled, but he did not think much of your initial reaction. It was not the first time he had an audience, but he loathed to end the show so soon—a performance without an encore was lackluster, but he couldn't spoil the surprise for the rest of the world. However, before he reached for the holstered gun on his belt, you scrambled towards him. It wouldn't have taken but a second to shoot you, but the contorted expression on your face, the tilt of your brow, and the contemplative purse of your lips had him pause. You had halted before him, your hands hovering over his shoulders, scanning his body.

"Are you okay?"

Those three measly words, such a straightforward question, drew out an unfathomable amount of irritation from the depths of his soul. Was it possible for a person to be so naïve? Anyone who had witnessed his ability had at least the insight to cower or run and be terrified for their life. It had always happened—people were predictable. His eyes bore into your own with more scrutiny than you had ever possibly received, but as if dissecting his most prevalent thoughts, you adjusted the wrinkled collar of his new uniform and spoke with a troubled frown.

"He killed you. You killed him. An eye-for-an-eye. A crime served with its equal punishment." Your eyes scanned over his clothes before lingering on his features, tracing across them with such, dare he think, care. As if ensuring this was the same man you had made a deal with many weeks before.

When was the last time you had spoken directly to him—he realizes never. He was unfamiliar with your hushed tone, one that was scolding yet tepid. Others shook his hand in conjunction with cheap words and boisterous gestures as if to intimidate a predator, but you had mustered the courage to do one thing they couldn't. You looked him in the eye.

"Our world rarely follows that equilibrium," you said in the silence, inching from him to allow space. "I find it refreshing."

He raised a brow, words leaving him. "...You have quite a fascinating mind, Ms. (Surname)."

Your smile made the warmth return to his fingertips. "I would hope so. Wouldn't want to bore you."

For the following weeks, he found himself enveloped in ideas of coincidence. It had been eons since he left a variable to pure chance, though he supposed his modified routine had not allowed fate to prosper—but it wasn't like he was constructing moments to seek your presence on purpose. To have one measly interaction, an opening to prod at the folds of your delicate mind. No, of course not.

In fact, a trace of your familiar hairstyle or the flutter of your narrow array of outfits imbued with him the impulse to squash you like an insect, to erase your existence from the world's canvas and return to his monotony. You wouldn't see his approach, or perhaps you would, but you wouldn't stop him. Instead, you'd look upon him again with those same eyes, all-knowing yet completely clueless—but it was the thought of that expression that quieted those thoughts, a breeched sensation of carnal impulses gripping his heart like a vice. However, he remained curious, and you remained fascinating.

You met each interaction with hospitality like an ever-burning hearth that sparked a foreign warmth upon his skin, but not out of dread or devotion—those were the extremes in his subordinates, and no one strayed from them. They either bowed or cowered at his feet, but you did not falter to your knees, at least not in the way he expected.

You remained at a respectable distance, especially in comparison to your almost intimate touch prior. Still, it was not out of wariness at his ability's capabilities but rather out of knowledge of your own expendability. You understood your role as a subordinate but had no issue meeting his gaze, speaking level to him whenever permitted, yet respecting his authority in observation.

His first judgment of your character, a naive and thoughtless woman, had been unfounded. You spoke with an intellect not found in many underneath him but did not utilize it as a weapon against others. Your awareness of the dangerous circumstances of your agreement seemed to contradict your actions, with no will to take out frustration towards your dealer. You seemed to, in fact, respect his artifice for its purpose and reap the perks of your deal rather than focus on the consequences—unlike most, you knew you weren't an exception to repercussions and accepted them as they were.

Your deal had not been one of much thought—he barely remembered it himself. You would work under him for an undecided amount of time and, in turn, receive shelter from the crimes of the outside world. It allowed for a menagerie of loopholes and interpretations, but it was of mutual understanding that he would not prevent your demise at the hands of enemy fire. Instead, you would only be allowed to live for as long as you were useful. Despite that knowledge, you met each moment with gratitude, relieved without the burden of death on your shoulders.

But your demise, supposedly so near, seemed to dwindle into the distance. He found alternate methods, better ones, to fulfill missions, other paths to follow, and subordinates to sacrifice in the name of salvation. Before long, you had worked for him for an entire year.

It was a week before your anniversary when you dared to surpass the threshold of his office's doorway, if you could call it that, and leaned against the frame to observe from behind, quiet as a mouse. He was surprised you hadn't been in here sooner.

"Do you need something?" he mused, a lilt of strange enjoyment in his tone. He didn't bother to pause in his motions, the strokes of his fingers against the keyboard only intensifying with every passing moment. He had been stripped of his normal coat, and ushanka sat on the side, which allowed for an almost softer appearance.

"I wanted to ask you a question."

He caught the unmistakable reluctance in your tone, a quiver in your voice, and he sighed. It was not the first time someone reconsidered their deal—it was quite common. He would appease their worries with those same sweet lies from before, before twisting them into a scheme so they would no longer become a problem. There was no use keeping around a subordinate who was bound to waver—but for the endless intrigue you provided, he would be merciful in his answer. Truthful, even.

"I'm afraid there's no budging on your deal, Ms. (Surname)." The air of the office had staled, and he was sure you had stiffened from horror, primed to turn tail and scutter to your room to wallow in self-pity and despair.

"Uh, I actually just wanted to know if you had any book recommendations."

He paused in his typing, staring down at his hands. "Book recommendations."

"Forgive me," you muttered, tone loosened of its typical confidence as it brimmed with embarrassment. "It's just…you don't hire the most well-read company, and I'd assumed you'd have a more expansive catalog than any of us would."

It was quiet for an instant until an almost unheard chuckle relinquished from his tightened lips after the comprehension of such a unique request. You had subverted his expectation once more, such a strange little thing, and he twisted around to devour the view of your expression, which remained sheepish in the aftermath of your meek inquiry, softened moreso as the luminescent light of screens wavered to draw decadent lines across your features.

"I'm certain I have something you'd enjoy."

You had not expected him to rise from his chair, standing like a deer in headlights as he approached the doorway. Only an amused lift of his brow and a smirk led you to realize that you blocked his path, and you scampered to the side. He led you through a narrowed path, one that turned unrecognizable after only a minute. The entire hall was dedicated to rooms you had never seen, isolated from everything else.

His hand settled against a rusted knob, the metal door groaning with a boisterous shriek that undoubtedly led to your doom—that was until you stepped inside, mouth gaping in awe at the treasure of reading material. It was enormous, at least with the finite amount of space. His lips twisted into something uncharacteristically fond as your eyes lingered from book to book, practically sparkling at the array of texts, some of which only he could provide.

He selected a couple of volumes from varied genres, and you were about to thank him, but the following words that came from his mouth surprised you both. "Feel free to come here whenever you see fit." The books he handed over were old but well-cherished if the creased spines were of any evidence. "I'm curious to hear your thoughts."

Most wouldn't have dared to make their presence known after a chance interaction with him, but he knew it would be foolish to assume that you were like most or even to predict your next move. Even though he would never admit it, he was anticipating your presence in his office, and you arrived like a saving grace, primed with thoughts and annotations.

"He may be extreme, but he embodies the pinnacle of the human condition," you started, locked in on the main protagonist. "He's a paradox, morally virtuous yet rotten."

He held the returned book in his hand, refusing to acknowledge the subtle thump of his heart as his touch brushed over the impressions in the leather cover made by your fingers. Those imprints seemed to ground him, and he only allowed himself to embrace the sensation rather than consider why he felt so calm.

"I see you enjoyed the story."

"I wouldn't put it like that," you argued, and he found himself only further encompassed in your discourse. "Enjoyment is easy to come by, but for a book to fulfill its purpose, it's supposed to make you think beyond its pages."

He leaned forward on his hand, humming as he yearned for more, homing in on every word and notation, for a chance to catch another delicious conviction spurned from your lips, hypnotized as you unpacked layers of moral conflict and human turmoil with ease. Your deconstruction was breathtaking, especially once you adjusted to your space, circling around his office and inching closer and closer. But then, you stopped.

"Hm."

He almost melted at the glimpse of that familiar expression—those furrowed brows and pursed lips. In further analysis, you resembled a bunny more than a human, and he almost expected a twitch in the tip of your nose as you became lost in thought. But the next look you struck him with, to his utter disdain, made him cave on instinct, like a predator about to sink his teeth in.

"A thought?"

You shook your head, clearing the air. "I forgot it as quick as it came."

But, like the sly prey you were, you slipped out of his queries with wit and once more avoided satisfying his curiosity, leaving him stranded in a position with no illusive way to question you for more. If it were anyone else, truly, he would have no desire for answers—they would be evident before they opened their mouths. Yet, every time he felt close to unraveling your secrets, you shrunk back. Almost as if you were teasing him.

Two could play at that.

Months passed, and your discussions became daily occurrences, the topic shifting from philosophical debates to the beautiful world outside. Your presence was like sweet manna to the starved, and he found himself pacified but not fulfilled. But he did not consider one aspect of the alteration of his routine—that it would place a target on your back—not by his enemies but by other subordinates.

A few of them had cornered you on a mission, planning to report back to him that you had died in the enemy crossfire—foolish that they didn't realize every death was always explicitly planned. Their insubordination would be met with fatal consequences, and while he wished in his heart to torment them for their witlessness, he knew that they would only cause further issues if they were allowed to remain alive.

Luck had accompanied you on your errands, a watchful, frosted-haired jester performing a fantastical rescue in your final moments. It was not without injuries, as you lay in a bed with several sprains and bruises, but your rest was accompanied by the same man who had saved you, for curiosity was one of his main traits. He had been curious about you for a while, much like everyone else, and stated to Fyodor that he could not help but personally prod at his newfound "tether," whatever that meant.

But Fyodor knew, from the moment you exchanged your first few words, that Nikolai would become enamored with your inquisitiveness and warmth. Your approach to thought had been spell-binding to anyone who would listen, not only himself. You had an analytical approach similar to his, but it did not hold the same intent or technique. It sung with empathy, your personal philosophies shining through while allowing others to shape your opinions into a far more informed one. You reveled in a change—a most inhuman and most alluring feature.

No one found more joy in that feature than Nikolai himself, who deemed you a dearest companion he must have lost and forgotten in the past—because where had you possibly been his entire life? His jokes made you laugh without restraint, but you didn't look at him as if he were a fool.

"That pitiful clown didn't stand a chance," Fyodor noted to himself, though not without resentment towards the strain in his chest as Nikolai braced a hand on your shoulder.

But the moment you leant your ear to the man and listened with an open mind to his ideals and demonstrated a drop of compassion towards his need to be free, Fyodor could recognize the familiar thoughts racing in Nikolai's mind. The same shock of finding someone who understood him and his purpose without repulsing his approach and the same impulse to sever the connection it created.

He knew it all too well. And he hated it, despised that he knew the sensation intimately, such a mortal affliction that it was reflected in another. He knew these emotions, at least some of them, but he did not think of them until another soul dared to encroach upon them. Upon you.

Oh, how he despised you.

He did not fathom why Nikolai had not done away with you—at least, he refused to. His stomach emptied with an insatiable hunger as the jester rushed away in a turn of his overcoat, with Fyodor not able to disregard the one visible eye of the man that looked upon him with an understanding far too founded.

He entered the room, your room, with an unease unlike him. You glanced from your reading material, another book from his collection, your expression of contentment shifting from content, to confusion, to land on concern, thinly veiled by a polite nod and 'hello.' He had never checked on any of his subordinates before and was almost willed to leave as quickly as he came.

"The antagonist is certainly intriguing, wouldn't you say?"

But you did not acknowledge his behavior. He never thought of himself witless enough to be in a position in which he could be called out for making such instinctual, carnal decisions—only for the subject of those to dismiss his intentions entirely. To not take advantage of his obvious vulnerabilities. You must have noticed it, but he realized it was never fear nor respect that made you avoid questioning him.

He had never noted it prior, but you did not back out of conversations because you displayed discomfort. You were rather easy to read, and you knew that, but it had seemed you were concealing some further. It was not a part of yourself that you had hidden, but instead, you had allowed him to hide his own susceptibilities under the guise of them being yours, not prodding him from your own observations out of respect for his boundaries. He was not an open book to many, but he had become another novel to you. Another character to dissect. But you didn't.

He left with more questions than any answers he had ever received, having found the answer to his first question, but only at a cost that left him to spiral in his own contemplations. What would cause you to be so considerate? He was left distracted by your presence more than ever before, even when you were not in the room. You were a nuisance, yet so refreshing. A paradox, as you would've cleverly pointed out—and he loathed that he had become so intimately familiar with you that he knew that.

He ceased to note your mannerisms as an alley to exploit you, but it seemed he hadn't in months. Instead, he had found them a constance he looked forward to. The soul that he had been seeking—was it indeed you?

And to his immortal horror and human content, he knew that your roles had been reversed. That if you had approached with a blade and asked him for his heart, he would carve it out himself without another thought. It would only take a smile and the brush of your hand, and he would be your puppet.

It had been another month, and you were permitted to walk the harbor docks without accompaniment; not that many were allowed to accompany you in the first place. You were satisfied with watching the water from a distance, stilled by the winter wind that whipped around with a bite. In deep thought, as you considered the past few months, almost two years of the same routine, and you smiled. Life had not been monotonous since becoming a member of the Rats, and your strange companionship with your boss left you relishing each new interaction. There was a bittersweetness to that man, and it had not taken much to reach it—it wasn't like you had done that on purpose.

But there was no need to ponder over that—it was cold. Your clothes were far too thin, but it wasn't like you were paid a normal salary like most people. You stuck with the clothes you had been able to take, always either too thin or too thick before the seasons, but you would make do like you always did.

That was until you felt the pressure of heavy fabric swallow you whole. You didn't even think to look up, too overwhelmed by the scent of old ink and the warmth of roughened fabric, marred with imperfections that could only be seen close up, and you brushed your fingers over them and simply relished in the sensation that the impressions grounded you. The puffed collar tickled your neck, and you couldn't restrain your laughter as you tried to wipe the water away from your eyes. But it was warm, so warm despite its exterior, and that was all that mattered to you.

You finally looked up.

"Fyodor?" you whispered, your voice almost lost in the wind.

He knew the questions in your gaze and the familiar contemplation as you debated whether to say anything more. You knew, in the depths of your kindred soul, that he would not answer your questions, nor did he have the answers himself, despite his longevity. Some things were best left unsaid. He was determined to uncover everything about you and this illness, an affliction that you had marred him with, to quell the rapid beat of his heart, a heart that finally belonged to him again.

"It's cold," he replied, sat beside you.

Neither of you looked at each other as you gazed out into the harbor, but for the first time, neither of you were bothered by the cold anymore.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @aureatchi @betweensinners @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @crayonssz @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @number1morihater @fyorina

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#starring: fyodor .ೃ࿐#f!reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd 114.5 #bsd spoilers

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yandere-3-sagau · 1 year

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Hello! New anon here, idk if you do anything like this but i had an interesting thought the other day!

So yknow how you can name scaramouche right of course

So i named mine,,,,genuinely? Like i went out and looked up names (what can i say im down bad okay) and I found the name ‘Ena’ which means ‘gift from god’ (according to what i found-) or something like ‘blessed life’

So what if in a secret creator!sagau, the reader names him that and he dismisses it at first but then catches the reader having a look (sort of like a sad smile) every time they refer to him as that, so he finally asks what it means and they say its because they see him as being worthy of living. That they see him as a blessing from ‘the creator’ and they want him to see himself that way- (like not in a ‘more important than anyone else’ way, just in a ‘you exist therefore you deserve to live’ kinda way)

Idk if you like this but feel free to ignore this if you’re uncomfortable! Tysm for your time!

hehehe do you know that wanderer is my favorite? Quite similarly to you, I took my time searching for a good name. I named him Aziz. It’s an Arabic name and I thought it was fitting since his new beginning began in Sumeru, a place based on the middle east. While Aziz means to be strong and powerful, it also means dear, darling, and precious. If SAGAU were to ever be real, I would want him to know that he is precious and loved. <33

since this ask is about secret creator!reader, i am going to assume that wanderer is still unaware of your identity when you mention the meaning of his name.

Yandere!Wanderer x Secret!Creator!Reader

The wanderer didn’t really care for names. He’s had so many throughout the years that he could care less how people addressed him.

So when the traveler gave him his name, he didn’t really think much of it. After all, it was a name given to him by his former enemy. What special meaning could it have? The traveler never explained it and he never thought to ask.

He kept the name for convenience but rarely ever used it. Many still referred to him as wanderer and he didn’t bother to correct them. There were times he had even forgotten that he had a new name.

The first time he actually ever cares about his name is the first time he hears it from you.

The name rolls so casually off your tongue it’s as if you’ve said it a thousand times. The soothing sound of your voice saying the name that belonged solely to him makes him feel so strange that he doesn’t even realize that he’s never told you his name before.

Though it sounds foreign at first, he quickly grows accustomed to being called his new name.

However, every time you call him that name, you have a certain look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite understand. You look at him as if he holds the world in his hands yet it’s accompanied by a sense of sadness.

Unbeknownst to him, every time you say his name, you’re reminded of his past. You think about how while erasing his previous names, he intended to erase his entire existence along with it and it breaks your heart.

Though he has trouble recognizing emotions, he can sense your sadness.

Finally, he caves into his curiosity and asks why you always have that look on your face. Why you look like you want to cry whenever that name is mentioned.

“... do you know what your name means?”

You gaze at him with such soft eyes that he almost forgets to answer.

“No, why?”

“Your name means ‘gift from god’ and ‘blessed life.’”

It takes some time to process, but after finally realizing what the meaning of his name is, the wanderer grows a bit angry.

Gift from god? Blessed life?

The traveler must be mocking him.

How can he be a gift from god when he was abandoned by his mother, the God of Eternity? and what part of his life is blessed when he’s committed countless sins and all he’s experienced is tragedy.

Wanderer remains silent but he can feel your gaze on him. Those eyes that to seem to see right though him.

—

Later on, he approaches the traveler.

“Why did you name me __?’“

The traveler pauses, surprised by the sudden question.

“I... don’t know, if I’m being honest.”

Wanderer scoffs. “How can you not know? Are you mocking me?”

“No, I really don’t know. Now that I think about it, it really is quite strange,” the traveler says as they recall the moment the wanderer was named.

“At the time, the name just slipped from my mouth.”

“It just slipped from your mouth? You don’t even know what it means?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’ve honestly never heard of the name before.”

Hearing this, the wanderer is a bit offended. It seems such little thought was put into his name. He thinks that maybe you were lying. He searched through many books in the Akademyia for the origin but he couldn’t find anything close to what you told him.

The next time you call his name, he stops you. He tells you stop using it. Saddened, you ask him why.

“It’s a meaningless name and whatever you claimed it means doesn’t even suit me.”

“What do you mean? I...whoever named you must see you as a gift. Your life is a blessing to them.”

“The person that named me doesn’t even know the meaning.”

You grow quiet upon hearing this. You can’t refute him, unable to explain to him that you were the person to name him.

You’re heartbroken that he thinks so little of himself. You want nothing more than to tell him that he really is a blessing. That he’s important to you and worthy of living. But you remain silent and he does as well.

He stops going by that name and decides to go by wanderer instead. He’s confused by your eyes that well up with unshed tears when he asks you call him wanderer instead of the name you had given him.

It isn’t until you are exposed that he understands.

You are the creator and it was you that bestowed the name upon him while you were living through the eyes of the traveler.

This revelation sparks so many questions.

Why did you name him that? Do you really see him as a blessing? Does he really mean that much to you?

His heart is hopeful but more and more anxiety fills his being the longer his thinks about it.

Are you upset that he stopped using his name? Do you think he isn’t proud of it?

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you decided to take it back. But even if you tried, he wouldn’t let you. Suddenly, it’s apart of who he is now - the basis of his identity. Anyone who calls him wanderer now is immediately corrected.

He wants to confront you but he hasn’t seen you since your identity was exposed. You’ve disappeared without a trace, leaving his heart empty.

Nothing but your voice can sooth his aching heart and he can’t rest until finds you.

Until he hears you call his name once more, now that he’s finally able to appreciate it’s meaning.

#yandere genshin #genshin impact #yandere sagau #yanderexreader #archons #kunikuzushi #wanderer #Scaramouche #yandere wanderer #yandere x reader #yandere #creator #creator reader #secret creator reader #secret creator #acolytes #genshin cult au #yandere genshin cult au #yandere scaramouche

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exactlycleverpirate · 3 months

Text

Timeline from Xavier's Perspective Part 1

EDIT: This has been updated to include the endings of all myths as well as some other information.

(Includes spoilers for basically everything, including all myths.)

This is an update of my earlier post. Part 2 here.

If you are interested in more speculation than facts, check out my Half-baked Theories and Wild Theories About Rafayel. For an in-depth exploration of Rafayel’s story, see What Happened to Lemuria and Rafayel and Rafayel's Timeline Redux Part 1. For current game story see Love and Deepspace: the Story So Far Part 1.

Timeline from Xavier's perspective (Part 1/Philos):

Xavier is born on Philos. He is the Crown Prince of the royal family. Life is connected to the core of Philos, making him and most people on Philos immortal while the planet remains. Philos has a fake core that is holding together the separate tectonic plates of former Earth. Travel between these plates is difficult (no oceans?).

214 PT (Philos Time) Xavier went to school with MC in year 214, which is 214 years after the destruction of earth. MC has a fatal heart condition. Some of the professors lived on Earth before its destruction. Xavier is under constant guard and has little freedom. (Anecdote 3)

217 PT MC and Xavier become friends and fall in love. She gives him the star charm tassel that she made.

Xavier finds out MC is dying. They go on a date to see a meteor shower by a salt flat. After this, Xavier disappears for a month.

MC escapes the hospital to go to the salt flat. Xavier finds her there and has the protocore that is supposed to be able to save her, but it is too late. She dies in his arms. Xavier promises to seek her out in her future lives.

Zayne's Myth. Zayne guards the Creatio protocore in a frozen tower as a Foreseer of Astra. The royal family sends him emissaries seeking a prophecy every 100 years, but they never return. MC is a gardener with a fatal heart condition and is seeking the Creatio protocore to save her life. (Is this the same protocore that Xavier found in her first life on Philos?) Zaybe says if she can make the jasmine on the balcony of the Tower bloom, she can go free.

MC and Zayne have been stuck in a loop, where MC seeks out the Creatio to heal her dying heart, Zayne falls in love with her, she dies, his memories are erased (but preserved as fragments in an illusory jasmine garden), and she is reincarnated to do it all again. This is happening because of some sort of resonance link between MC and the Creatio, which makes it so the Creatio can power itself by draining her life.

After the jasmine on the tower blooms, Zaybe remembers what has happened to them in the past. Zayne breaks the cycle by fusing the Creatio to MC's heart, healing her. He is then locked in an eternal slumber in the Tower of Thorns behind an eternal blizzard as punishment by Astra. MC is free, and her heart appears to be healed, but she can no longer get to Zayne.

30,000 PT Assuming the seas dried up when Earth was destroyed and became Philos, Rafayel's Myth takes place around this time. MC was born from the depths of the earth. She has a special heart that makes the people of Philos immortal and is guarded in a palace, treated as a princess, and not allowed to leave.

Child MC is gifted a young Rafayel as a Lemurian slave. She sets him free. (Rafayel later tells her he allowed himself to be caught on purpose.)

MC meets Rafayel as adults while she is attempting to escape the palace. He helps her. They continually meet up and she learns he was the boy she released as a child. Rafayel, Amund, and other Lemurians are killing human nobles. Rafayel tells MC this is not out of revenge, but rather somehow part of an effort to restore Lemuria/the oceans. MC asks how she and Rafayel can be bound as he never gave her one of his scales. He says their bond was formed when the oceans still existed. MC has vague memories of living in a hut on the Island of Songs surrounded by ocean.

Rafayel and Amund are plotting to recover “the God of the Sea’s (Rafayel’s) heart from MC by cutting it out with a dagger on the Island of Songs. However, the heart must be given willingly. Rafayel is uncertain whether the legends are true about killing MC to restore the oceans and Lemuria. Per the legend, the goal seems to be attaining Absolute Power. According to the legend, “Lemurians who seeketh Absolute Power: Combat the treacherous tides. Dive into The Deep for pearls. Find a true love. When blessed with a true love’s kiss, claim her heart by your own hand. A heart, pure, flawless-and filled with love. It is the best offering humans can give to Lemurians. -Lemurian Ruins, Slate No. 0065, Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God”. (Amund has served multiple Gods of the Sea over the centuries. Are these all reincarnations of Rafayel or are there multiple Gods of the Sea?)

6 months after Rafayel and MC celebrate her birthday, he and Amund take her to the Island of Songs, which she recognizes. She remembers her past life with Rafayel and realizes that Rafayel will fall into eternal slumber and the seas will never be restored if she does not return his heart. She offers to cut it out, but Rafayel refuses, saying he and the Lemurians will have to find their own way to change to story. He attempts to erase her memories and sever their bond to save her. Rafayel calls her his beloved bride.

MC is returned to the palace with no memories of Rafayel, but she watches the blue fish he gave her when they were young and slowly begins to remember. Hearing that the Lemurians are on the verge of being captured, and remembering that Rafayel intends to leave, she runs out of the city to find him, her memories and their bond once more intact.

Unsure how to resolve things, they set out on a camel across the desert to find Whalefall City. Amund is with them. Rafayel suggests that somehow by going to Whalefall City, he’ll be able to show her the sea. (Based on the Tender Moment, Whalefall Lament, it seems likely that Whalefall City is the name of the Lemurian city under the sea that Rafayel grew up in as a child on Earth.) The blue fish in the palace turns into a scale, presumably the one he gifted her to form their bond.

Xavier meets MC again at a Philos Academy as knights in training, sometime near the end of Philos’ life as a planet. Jeremiah goes to the Academy too. Xavier is the Crown Prince, but avoids returning to the royal family, remaining at the Academy instead.

During his Gladius Ceremony in the Starfall Forest, Xavier discovers that the forest contains the hollow heart of Philos and consumes people to power the long-dead core. This creates Wanderers. Xavier realizes protocores used to contain hearts. MC notices his attitude/demeanor changes noticeably after this trial. He rejects his role of Crown Prince after this.

The king dies, and Xavier disappears for about 200 years.

MC and Xavier meet up again while investigating Starfall Forest. Jeremiah is part of MC’s squad. Xavier reveals what he learned about the forest to MC. He tells her that the royal family used to send human sacrifices into the forest. Then they discovered a truly immortal person who could die and come to life over and over, continually powering the planet. MC does not realize he is talking about her. She realizes the woman who gave him the star tassel is the same woman who reincarnates.

Xavier begins planning a backtracking expedition through spacetime in order to find a way to save MC and Philos. Jeremiah decides to join the team. MC decides to stay and become Queen to protect the people of Philos until Xavier can return. Xavier says that when he returns, he will be her knight. She gives him her little star badge, saying she knows that it can't replace the star tassel. He tells her only one person has ever given him a little star, but she doesn't understand what he means.

Xavier leaves MC’s service, and she fakes his death, claiming he died with honors. He is viewed as a traitor by the people of Philos. MC does not believe he will ever return.

Timejump.

See Part 2 here for Earth Timeline

A thought: Is the reason that MC is considered the only true immortal because she has or is connected to Rafayel/The God of the Sea’s heart? Lemurians appear to be naturally immortal, though not undying.

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #xavier #zayne #rafayel

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crazy-ache · 3 months

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Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra Fanfiction Check out my full list below.

Oneshots

Title: Beasts Inside Us NSFW | Lucien Rescues Elain | Smut | Oneshot While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

Title: Separate My Body From My Soul NSFW | Elain Rescues Lucien | Forced Mating Bond | Oneshot “I am Elain Archeron, sister of the High Lady of Night, Feyre the Cursebreaker. I’ve come to demand the release of Lucien Vanserra back to the custody of the Night Court.”

"And why would I do that?" The High Lord of Autumn demanded.

“Because he is my mate.”

When Lucien Vanserra is held captive by his father in the cruel depths of Autumn, there is only one force more powerful than politics that can save him—his mating bond with Elain Archeron. She must make the choice to save him, even if it means binding their souls forever.

Title: Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked NSFW | Arranged Marriage | Smut | Oneshot Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his fucking chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

Title: A Cut Above the Rest SFW | Oneshot | Elain and Lucien on the run “Wait!” Elain clambered to her feet, jumping off the bed. He looked at her expectedly, dagger in one hand and a handful of hair in the other. What was there to say? That she had always secretly adored his hair just the way it was? That he couldn’t possibly cut it before she even had the chance to run her fingers through it? “Let me do it,” she said.

While on the run in the Continent, Elain and Lucien must discuss what has remained unspoken after a frightening incident.

Title: Courting Lucien Vanserra NSFW | Idiots to Lovers | 2/3 Chapters Completed “I think it may be too late for us, that I was a wretch for far too long and now he wants nothing to do with me—” Elain blurted out in a teary confession to her sisters. Nesta, face like stone, hissed. “Then there is only one thing left to do. You must thoroughly and ardently court him.”

Elain’s tears stopped rolling down her face with utter confusion. “Court him?”

“You need to seduce Lucien,” Feyre clarified with a feral grin.

Title: bet on me SFW | Drinking Games | Oneshot Elain is caught sulking at her sister's mating ceremony. Lucien wagers a drinking game to prove who knows the other best.

“Go on. Tell me all about myself, Lucien Vanserra.”

And there is the matter of something charged sitting between them at the table. He was challenging her. An invitation for friction, a consideration to be included in the joke, a bid to entwine in something deliciously improper. Elain could not remember the last time anyone had offered her anything remotely tantalizing.

Title: i would stay forever (just don't go) SFW | Oneshot “You! You torment me, Lucien. Day and night. You fill my dreams and nightmares." Elain struggles to know what is real and not real. And only Lucien can help.

Title: in eternal bloom SFW | Lucien Meets Papa | Oneshot On the quest to find the sixth mortal queen, Lucien Vanserra meets a human with brown eyes and that same stubborn Archeron nose. Together, on their search for Vassa, Lucien befriends Elain’s father, and learns a bit more about his mate.

Title: curses and gifts SFW | GroundhogDayAU! | Oneshot

In which Elain is cursed to live that fateful day with the Cauldron again and again and again. Until a choice is made.

Multi-Chapter

Title: Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (in collaboration with @zenkindoflove) SFW | Letter Fic | Multichapter - WIP After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes.

Title: Divine Punishments NSFW | Elain Saves Spring | Multichapter Elain foresees a curse in the form of terrible visions. An unexplained plague was coming and the immortal fae were going to suffer and die by the rotten sickness. She needs to meet her fate—with her powers and her mating bond—if she hopes to save Spring.

Drabbles

Title: Choke on Desire Drabbles | Crossposted on Tumblr | Various Genres If we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy? If you ask me, I'm ready.

#elucien #elucien masterlist #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #crazyache writes

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darknesseddiem · 1 month

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𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Inspired on the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier.

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Eddie Munson was a bitter soul, as sharp and biting as black coffee. They said he needed sweetness in his life, but alas, you were too sweet for him. Your kindness became his burden, a reminder of the bitterness he couldn't escape.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst.

Eddie, a man marred by life's relentless blows, harbored a bitter resentment towards the world. He resembled a tempestuous black cloud, casting a shadow over fields teeming with vitality and serenity, only to unleash his chaotic storm, leaving destruction in its wake. In his turbulent existence, he became the embodiment of despair, a tragic figure cursed to bring ruin to the very beauty he could never truly embrace.

Eddie, burdened by the weight of his own bitterness, couldn't help but pity his friends who bore the brunt of his cold demeanor. Despite his noble intentions, his mind was ensnared by a darkness that eclipsed his innate goodness.

Alone in his crumbling, embittered world, Eddie found solace amidst the decay. He drowned his soul in a bitter concoction of distant, surreal memories, each served colder than the last. Locked in a cycle of nostalgia and despair, he clung to the remnants of a past that seemed ever more distant, yet somehow more real than his present existence.

His friends, bless their hearts, tried tirelessly, for what felt like an eternity. Yet, despite their efforts, nothing could pry Eddie from the clutches of his self-imposed identity. He remained steadfast in his conviction, resigned to the bitter fate he believed was his alone. Like a lingering aftertaste, he permeated their lives, leaving behind a bitterness that lingered long after he was gone.

And then, on one fateful day, amidst the bitter aroma of coffee, there came a convergence of flavors. The bitterness of Eddie's world collided with the sweet nectar of possibility. As if carried by the gentle caress of a spring breeze, there appeared the most exquisite and divine creation: You.

You stood there, a perfect fusion of heaven's grace and innocence— not the naive kind, but the pure essence of kindness and sweetness. Among his circle of hopeful friends, you were the beacon of light, the embodiment of their deepest and happiest desires.

Slowly, like delicate vines reaching out, your essence entwined around Eddie's once-bitter heart. Despite his resistance, he found himself surrendering to the irresistible allure of your sweetness. The taste of grape nectar, like a balm, seeped into his veins, thawing the frost that had long encased his coldest parts. In your presence, he discovered a warmth he had long forgotten, a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows of his past.

As the warmth intensified, it became an inferno, scorching everything in its path. And you, my dear, you were the epitome of sweetness, a radiant light that illuminated his darkened soul. But alas, in the blaze of passion, he found himself overwhelmed by the intensity of your sweetness. Like a parched wanderer stumbling upon an oasis, he drank greedily, only to realize that the sweetness was too much for his bitter palate to bear. And so, in the tragedy of it all, your sweetness became his undoing, a reminder of the darkness he could never fully escape.

Guilt gnawed at him, a relentless beast tearing through his resolve. He feared he would tarnish the purity of your sweetness with his own bitter essence, rendering it inedible, unfit for consumption. As he stood on the precipice of your love, he realized the undeniable truth: You were too sweet for him, a delicacy meant for those who could savor and appreciate your essence without tainting it with bitterness. And so, with a heavy heart, he withdrew, unable to bear the thought of sullying the beauty of your sweetness with his own bitterness.

It can't be said I'm an early bird

It's ten o'clock before I say a word

Each morning, as the sun reluctantly stretched its rays across the horizon, Eddie found himself drawn to the sight of you awakening. Your presence, so full of life and warmth, outshone even the sun itself, casting its brilliance upon his darkened world. But as he watched, a bitter realization gnawed at his soul like a relentless beast. He was the harbinger of storms, the bearer of darkness, and his very presence threatened to overshadow the delicate tendrils of your sweetness. Like thorny branches reaching out from his tormented soul, his negativity and bad mood threatened to entangle and suffocate the fragile beauty that graced his life. And in that moment of reckoning, he hated himself more than ever, for he knew that he was unworthy of the light you brought into his existence.

Baby, I can never tell

How do you sleep so well?

Driven by a longing he couldn't quell, Eddie yearned to unravel the mystery of your boundless sweetness and kindness. What arcane magic or hidden reservoir of strength allowed you to radiate such warmth in a world shrouded in darkness? He wondered, his heart heavy with the weight of his own bitterness, how could someone like him, consumed by shadows, ever hope to understand the light that emanated from you?

You keep telling me to live right

To go to bed before the daylight

Unbeknownst to him, you became his unwitting guide, a beacon of hope leading him out of the labyrinth of his stagnant mind. Though he resisted, there was a part of him that longed for your assistance, for the gentle touch of your kindness to break through the barriers he had erected around his heart. And so, in moments of vulnerability he dared not acknowledge, he allowed himself to be drawn towards the light you offered, hoping against hope that it might illuminate the shadows that lingered within him.

But then you wake up for the sunrise

You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

In his moments of introspection, Eddie couldn't help but entertain the thought that perhaps you wore a mask, concealing your true persona from him. How could someone be so consistently sweet and kind in a world so fraught with darkness and despair? In his selfish musings, he struggled to comprehend the authenticity of your sweetness, for what could someone like him, entrenched in bitterness, truly understand about such purity of heart? And yet, despite his doubts, a small ember of hope flickered within him, whispering that perhaps, just perhaps, your sweetness was indeed genuine, and not merely a facade.

Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake

Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

In his moments of quiet contemplation, Eddie couldn't help but entertain the unsettling thought: Would you, like him, one day succumb to the bitterness that seemed to permeate every corner of his existence? Did you, too, harbor a dormant chaos within you, waiting to be unleashed upon the world? It was a troubling notion, born from his own skewed perception of life's relentless struggles. He wondered if, deep down, you felt the same urge to embrace the chaos, to live fiercely and chaotically while you still could, before the weight of the world inevitably dragged you down into its depths. And yet, amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, he couldn't shake the fear that perhaps you were too pure, too untainted by the darkness that consumed him, to ever understand the allure of living chaotically.

If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great

But while in this world

As Eddie grappled with his doubts and fears, a moment of clarity washed over him like a cleansing tide. In the radiance of your presence, he felt the sincerity of your purity, the unwavering passion for life that emanated from every fiber of your being. Your incomparable sweetness, so genuine and unyielding, melted away the shadows that clouded his mind, leaving behind only the warmth of your light. In that moment, he knew that whatever doubts may have plagued him were but fleeting whispers in the face of the undeniable truth: you were a beacon of goodness in a world that sorely needed it, and he was blessed to bask in your presence.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

Despite his stubborn refusal to let go of the bitterness that had become so deeply ingrained within him, Eddie found himself unable to escape the echoes of the bells that reverberated through his mind. Try as he might to drown out the sweet melody with distractions and vices, the haunting chime persisted, a reminder of the purity and goodness he yearned for but felt unworthy of. In the depths of his despair, he clung to the bitterness like a drowning man to a life raft, even as the sweet resonance of your presence called out to him, begging him to let go and embrace the light. And though he resisted, a flicker of hope ignited within him, whispering that perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn't too late to silence the discordant symphony of bitterness and allow the sweet melody of your essence to fill his soul.

You're too sweet for me

In the depths of his self-loathing, Eddie couldn't shake the feeling of unworthiness that gnawed at his soul like a relentless beast. You, with your boundless kindness and passion, seemed like a beacon of purity in comparison to the darkness that consumed him. He saw himself as nothing more than a hideous stain on the canvas of your life, unworthy of the love and goodness you offered so freely. The sweetness of your presence, like a bitter reminder of his own inadequacies, only served to deepen his despair, leaving him drowning in a sea of self-loathing and regret. And so, he resigned himself to the belief that no matter how desperately he wished otherwise, he would forever remain unworthy of the light you brought into his world.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go

I work late where I'm free from the phone

Unlike you, Eddie lacked a perspective on life. His dreams remained just that—mere fantasies, never allowed the luxury of belief. He denied himself even the basic care and nurturing that every soul deserves, unwilling to accept kindness from others or extend it to himself. In his eyes, self-care was a luxury he couldn't afford, and being cared for was a vulnerability he couldn't bear to expose. He existed in a perpetual state of self-imposed isolation, unable to break free from the chains of his own making, condemned to a life devoid of the warmth and compassion he so desperately needed but refused to acknowledge.

And the job gets done

But you worry some, I know

Despite the internal cries of anguish, Eddie persisted in his self-imposed neglect, refusing to grant himself even the most basic acts of care and compassion. He endured, a solitary figure navigating the tumultuous waters of his own despair, while you, with your unwavering concern and efforts to nurture him, faced an uphill battle. Despite your best intentions, your attempts to care for him seemed to fall on deaf ears, unable to penetrate the walls he had erected around his heart. He knew that you tried, that you worried for him, but he remained steadfast in his resistance, unwilling to let anyone, including himself, break through the barriers he had built to shield himself from the pain of the world.

But who wants to live forever, babe?

You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate

In the depths of his despair, Eddie clung to the belief that he didn't need to take care of himself; after all, he had managed to survive this long. Yet, as he witnessed your unwavering commitment to self-care, treating yourself like a sacred temple, he couldn't help but marvel at your purity and sweetness. He longed to be worthy of praising you in this temple of self-love, but the darkness that consumed his own soul cast a shadow over his aspirations. He feared that his own dirty, corroded essence would only tarnish the sanctity of your sacred space, rendering his attempts at admiration futile. And so, he remained trapped in a cycle of self-neglect, unable to bridge the gap between his brokenness and your purity.

The rest of you like you're the TSA

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

Eddie harbored a deep longing to emulate your purity and kindness, to bask in the innocence that seemed to radiate from your being. Yet, he couldn't escape the harsh reality that he had long been corrupted by the trials and tribulations of life. The stains of his past sins and regrets seemed etched into his very soul, casting a permanent shadow over any hopes of redemption. Despite his yearning to shed the weight of his tarnished spirit and embrace the light, he felt shackled by the chains of his own darkness, unable to break free from the grip of his own corruption. And so, he watched from afar, admiring the purity he could never attain, resigned to the bitter truth that he would forever remain a prisoner of his own past.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

You embodied everything Eddie longed to be but feared he could never attain: a radiant beacon of life and warmth, exuding kindness and gentleness like a gentle breeze on a summer's day. You seemed to possess an otherworldly grace, ethereal and angelic, your presence a testament to the beauty and goodness that seemed to elude him at every turn. And oh, your sweetness, sweeter than the sweetest grape, a taste of heaven on earth that he could only dream of savoring. In your presence, he felt the stark contrast between your light and his darkness, yearning to bridge the gap but never quite daring to take the leap. You were his unreachable dream, a vision of purity and goodness that he could only admire from afar, forever haunted by the knowledge of what he could never become or have.

If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait

Until that day

Eddie entertained a fleeting thought: perhaps if you were a little more bitter, if the harsh realities of life tainted your sweetness, he might find solace in your company. But even in that scenario, he knew deep down that your inherent sweetness would remain untouched, a beacon of light amidst the darkness. No amount of bitterness could dull the purity of your essence, nor could it bridge the chasm between your sweetness and his own bitterness. In the end, he resigned himself to the bitter truth: you would always be too sweet for him, a reminder of the goodness he yearned for but could never fully embrace.

I'd rather take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

In the dead of night, consumed by his own self-loathing and despair, Eddie made a decision. Unable to bear the thought of staining you with the bitter taste of his existence, yet too selfish to let you go, he chose the coward's path and vanished into the shadows. With heavy footsteps and a heart weighed down by regret, he left behind nothing but the lingering aroma of black coffee, a bitter reminder of his presence. In his absence, the emptiness of your sanctuary echoed with the absence of his warmth, leaving behind a void that no sweetness could ever hope to fill. And so, Eddie disappeared into the night, carrying with him the burden of his own bitterness, forever haunted by the memory of the sweetness he could never truly embrace.

You're too sweet for me

In the aftermath of Eddie's departure, a profound bitterness consumed you, twisting your once radiant soul into a shadow of its former self. Hurt by life's relentless onslaught and disillusioned by the absence of goodness, you became a tempest of darkness, a black cloud that hung heavily over fields once lush with life and calm. Your presence, once a beacon of light, now brought only devastation and despair, as your chaotic storm tore through everything in its path. With each passing moment, the weight of sorrow bore down upon you, suffocating any glimmer of hope that dared to flicker. You had become a tragic figure, condemned to roam the desolate landscape of your own making, forever haunted by the memory of the sweetness that had slipped away, leaving only bitter emptiness in its wake. Now a mere fragment of your former self, you found yourself consumed by bitterness and sorrow, a shadow of the person you once were. Yet, amidst the darkness that enveloped you, a tiny flicker of sweetness remained, reserved especially for him—the sweetest bitter man you had ever known. Despite the distance that now separated you, his memory lingered like a bittersweet melody, haunting your every thought and breath. You carried a piece of him within you, a reminder of the love and pain intertwined inextricably in your shared history. And so, you existed in a liminal space between bitterness and sweetness, forever tethered to him by the invisible threads of memory and longing, a solitary figure in the vast expanse of your own sorrow.

Tagging some mutuals: @ali-r3n @birdysaturne @munsonology @bvtbxtch @bimbobaggins69

#darknesseddiemfics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddiemunson #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson angst #too sweet

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hoshinoyozora · 1 year

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Tale of the Timeless Couple

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 1,1k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

Youths were known for their naivety, and just like many others, it was the cause of your downfall too.

Beguiled by the promise of happily ever after, as shown in those romantic movies and books, you’d mindlessly agreed to eternal life with your soon-to-be husband, Malleus Draconia. It was especially enforced by the bitter knowledge that Crowley had never intended for you to return, and that you’d have no means of funding yourself after graduation due to the lack of necessary documents. It was either you marry a rich man and become slightly more ‘recognized’ as the proper citizen of Twisted Wonderland, or doomed to work as a maid in someone else’s house. Malleus, of course, saw no error in your judgment, despite the seeming shallowness of it, and swiftly carried out your transformation.

Due to your relationship with him, you’d always been a part of his little family. But only now did you fully integrate into it, into their lifestyle. The Draconia Family. The Royal Family.

It was blissful in the first few years, as many marriages were, burdened only by the new responsibility of being a ruler to both humans and dark creatures. Malleus and Lilia helped you with the Royal affairs, while Silver and Sebek familiarized you with the Draconia knighthood system. Sometimes, Malleus’s grandmother would visit and chat with you, offering either piece of valuable advice or rumors that would aid you in some way. You weren’t really allowed to go anywhere anymore, and definitely not without tight security. But Malleus permitted you to attend your friends’ weddings, just as how he permitted them to attend yours; a visit that excited nearly the guests in there due to it being a Royal one, and thus, exclusive.

Their occasional letters were probably the highlight of your day, and you thanked Malleus for having the bigger heart not to get jealous and cut off the only connection to your past and humanity. Your heart warmed when you saw pictures of their babies, noting all the resemblances in their features, and mused about what kind of face your child would have.

It was serene.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

Perhaps it began when you received Deuce’s letter containing a photo of him and Ace in an overdue reunion at a restaurant. Your eyes, sharper from the transformation, noticed all signs of aging on their faces. Instinctively, you touched yours and felt only the youthful smoothness of the skin. You rushed to the mirror, and your stomach sank once you realized the signs would never appear in you. For some, it might be a blessing. But for you, it only served to remind you of what you lost.

Your humanity, in all its glory. Ugliness and beauty. The smoothness and the wrinkles.

And then, several years went by, until Jack passed away peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by his big family. You mourned in your office whilst clutching the letter Ace sent to you, unable to attend the funeral without messing with everyone’s schedules.

Black was the color of the Draconia family, but that day, it took on a special meaning.

Ace followed, still a mischievous man to his old age with a more tamed pride. Deuce remained as a policeman until a particularly nasty magic incident occurred, leaving Epel as your only living friend. No longer fixated on the idea of a ‘manly man’, he confessed to you that he was actually lonely. His wife had long died, and his children had all grown up and moved out of the house. You wished you could’ve visited and comforted him, but once again, duty was your obstacle.

Until you belatedly found out that Epel had suffered a heart attack after helping with his family’s farm.

“What are you thinking about, my love?”

A pair of arms hugged your swollen stomach from behind, but you remained motionless as you gazed through the window. Malleus rested his chin on your shoulder and stared at your profile.

“Well?”

“Nothing much.”

“You know better than to lie to me, my love.” said he, twirling a lock of your hair with his left finger. “If you have a problem, you can talk to me and we shall find a solution together.”

Malleus wouldn’t understand that the problem you had was beyond repair, and you feared his response should you reveal the truth.

“All of my friends died, Malleus. Except Sebek, but he’s just a guard to me now.”

“Humans have always had short lifespans.”

You flinched, and you wondered why you reacted that way when you were basically near immortal now. Perhaps some human instincts hadn’t fully disappeared yet.

“I miss them.”

Malleus fell quiet, and your heartbeat slowly picked up with each second passed in silence.

“It is a normal reaction,” he drawled as though empathy was something unfamiliar to him. “and you’ll get over it in due time.”

You wetted your lips, preparing yourself to ask the question that had been haunting you.

“What would you do… if I were to go home?”

“You don’t think I’d allow you to do it, do you?”

You stiffened in his embrace.

“… What?”

“Crowley had always been very slow when it comes to finding your way home, but he hadn’t completely stopped until I ordered him otherwise.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Luckily, you learned that it was futile to place any hope on him, so I wouldn’t have to inform you anything.”

“Why…?”

“Why? Because we were meant to be together, of course. The moment you agreed to be my lover is the moment you agreed to be mine forever.” Malleus sighed blissfully, tightening his hold on you. “And it doesn’t really matter whether you accepted my proposal or not, although it does make everything a whole lot easier. I don’t wish to hurt you, after all.”

You were mistaken. You were horribly mistaken. There was no happily ever after in marrying him. Financially, yes, but mentally? Literally?

“What about my friends?”

“I told you, they’re humans. They have terribly shorter lifespans than ours. Therefore, I don’t need to worry about them so much. Not when they’ll die sooner or later.” Malleus hummed, swaying your body in an invisible yet haunting tune. “Although, of course, I still have to supervise all of your correspondence.”

It was understandable, and you should’ve expected it. Some letters might contain threats, however unlikely it was, and Malleus was merely ensuring the safety of everyone involved. But the knowledge that he read everything that you wrote to them – intimate things that you were more comfortable sharing with your friends than your husband – unnerved you.

Maybe it was why he spent more time with you when you complained to Deuce about him being busier nowadays.

“Now, don’t overthink about the past. You’ll upset our baby.”

He caressed the bulge in your stomach, where the long-awaited child resided.

A shame that you couldn’t share baby pictures with your friends, not even the news of your pregnancy.

#twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst imagines #yandere twst #yandere malleus #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #female reader #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus draconia

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theanimekid · 1 year

Text

Betrayal/ The Veil of Shadow found the new ruler

Synopsis: Love is not eternal, betrayal; cuts deeper than a scar. Now you'll be harmed no longer. You'll be loved once more. Embrace destiny, walk the veil, and rule as a Dark Queen.

Warnings: Monster, angst, sci-fi, blood, betrayal, heartbreak, death,

Shadow owes its birth to light- John Gay

“Love isn’t soft like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.” ― Stephen King, The Body

A/n: This will be about two or three chapters long, so grab some coffee, a blanket, and a couple of tissues, make that a couple boxes of tissue

Chapter 1: The Beginning and End

You will never feel pain again. You'll never feel hurt or suffering. You… will never experience betrayal… for now it was the last time… the last straw.

The Strom fumed in spikes of crimson and light-blue lighting. The chaos of thunderstorms rumbled the sky, buildings of merged flesh and bone carved into each like a deathly art, screams were heard for miles, screeching of the bats not living nor dead. As their dark sparks waved into the night. You stood, outside of your castle, watching the depths below, your body shrouded in mystery and despair. Your veil flew with the wind, eyes cold-hearted, broken no more, vengeance craving for suffering. Skin darker than a shade of navy blue. The might of the doors opened slowly, and a black substance moved within. It was quick and swift. Faster than the human eyes can catch.

It soon emerged with its fingertips skimming fingertips. Its purple hood covered its top face. He spoke in a canny yet diabolical fashion. "My Empress... the time has come," It said, As it played with its fingertips rhythmically. You turned to look at your advisor, your eyes sharpened, lowly. " Already?" You asked in a heartache and pitied tone. " I'm afraid yes, a newcomer has been seen in the human world, young and frail as he is, yet more fearful than the rest." The hand movement swayed and urged as his words, Walked away from the highland view. past your blackened throne so lonely and purposeless. Your advisor walked with you down the very, elongated hallway. Your soldiers lined up and bowed to you. "They're the same as always, Urmas."

"They live to benefit you, my beloved empress, as they will always be." He replied in assurance. The two walked for what seemed like a while and reached the end of the hallway. You stopped. Urmas stopped with you. His expression spread with little concern for his queen. " Is there something the matter, my sovereign?" You still stood there staring blankly at the door. " I-I- feel like I've been here before."

Urmas Cleared his throat. " Can you recall, my sovereign?" You shook your head, " I don't know, but yet at the same time, it feels as though." You turned to your advisor, offering your hand to him. Urmas instantly clutched it and held it to his hand. You beamed maliciously, teeth in all, "let's go raise bloodstained nightmare on humanity and make a world for my own." He smiled back." As you wish, my sovereign." The doors opened to a giant glass sphere, spiraling out of different stirs and harmonies. The two of you walked hand in hand. As you got closer to your glass sphere, lightly grazing the outer layer. Urmas walked on the other side of the figure.

The sphere's outer layer moved fluidly, liquifying. Your hand sunk into the glass sphere. Your eyes dilated, turning into a purplish pink. Your vision became severed as you gaze upon the human world into the brightness of the city. Your eyes searched and looked unnoticed. Til you found a little boy with glasses wandering down a dark alley. Frightened and alone, tight where you wanted him.

You planted his fear into his mind, it took only mere moments before he was nothing more than paste. And a small portal of flesh emerged from the brick wall, pulsating quietly like a heartbeat for an ear to listen. His body remained dismembered and fractured. His eyes plucked out of their sockets. Your eyes blurred again, returning to normalcy. With a sigh of satisfaction, you removed your hand from the sphere. Urmas clapped his hands in applause. " Another astounding work my sovereign," He feted. You walked away from the sphere and headed towards the door. You tumbled to the floor, holding both sides of your head, Your head began to hurt. Screaming in pain as your advisor tried to assist you. Your vision contradicted with light, a picnic on the hill, a man standing next to you with a loving gaze, his hand reaching out to you, calling to you…

You gasped as you raised your head. Your body trembling, your advisor slowly got you back on your feet. "My empress, are you all right?" He questioned. You sighed, bobbing your head left and right. " I-I'm fine... I just, need to rest my eyes."

*Back on Earth*

One of his shadow soldiers, sat on top of a nearby building, looking down upon its people and others. The shadow sighed in questionable purpose. It's been the fifth time this past year. The visions He saw, his queen in danger, screaming and sobbing for help, it's like an unending loop. Constantly, she was reaching out to him, calling to him...

His master emerged from the wall, Beru and Igris followed soon after, and his black coast got longer and ragged. He stopped at the edge. Sung turned his gaze toward his summon. " Is there a reason why you're not doing your patrol?" The soldier got up and kneeled before his master. " Forgive me, my king... but it feels like something has been bothering me." He didn't even bother looking upon his master. Thinking he will not believe him." And what has been bothering you?" Sung asked. He collected himself and explained clearly and carefully, not to anger him, " Lately, since the past year, I have been seeing visions... visions that I wish I could ignore, but it just couldn't." Sung knelt to his soldier's eyes. " Look at me, and tell me what you saw." The shadow soldier took a deep breath and looked dead into his king's eyes. " I saw... a woman in white, she was surrounded by black waters, she was slowly drowning, but no end. I was going to save her, but she started to cry, sobbing, calling out your name, and others. She turned to look at me, her face was recognizable... my king... I believe... that our queen is alive and needs your help."

Sung's eyes slowly widened, and he can feel his heart wailing out of his chest. She can't be... he watched her... if she is then why...

Beru and Igris can feel the energy around him growing. With his body trembling, he gripped his soldier's shoulders. " Are you... you 100 certain that's..." He nodded in response. Sung can feel his whole world collapse around him. You were alive, alive and alone, scared. " Did you anything else from your visions? Or where she could be? Did she tell you where to find her?" He started asking a million questions. But his soldier only gave him one and a solution. " She said to locate the portal where no man or light can find. The opposite of all worlds... Find the seer. And that's all I can remember."

The search for the seer begins.

Part 2 in the making👍

#solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jin woo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling manhwa #shadow soldiers #sung jinwoo smut #Sung Jin Woo x reader #sun jin woo x fem reader #solo leveling smut #solo leveling x reader smut #solo leveling spoilers

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sunshine-daisies-library · 5 months

Note

Request for John b routledge: reader and John b slow dancing while talking about their future together.

older | john b. routledge x fem!reader

summary: you and john b are the only ones that remain on the dance floor. the both of you can't help but reminisce on the past and look towards the future.

warnings: she/her pronoun usage, mentions of drinking and weed, partying

You weren’t sure how much time had passed by since you started swaying in John B’s arms. All you knew was that Sarah left a little after midnight with Kiara following suit, and Pope and Cleo went home soon after. JJ, ever the partier, continued through rounds of drinks and chasers until he ultimately ended up passed out on the couch. However, you and John B. remained awake, dancing along to the soft music playing from JJ’s speaker. You were grateful JJ was too far gone to complain that you connected your phone to his speaker and played something calmer for the end of the night.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” John B. whispered softly in your ear, his hand just barely grazing your hip.

“Nothin’” you hummed. You allowed your fingers to loosen to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. The mere sensation sent shivers down John B’s spine, delightful and exciting all at once.

John B. pulled away to twirl you, your giggles filling the air and drowning out the soft melody playing in the background. “Don’t lie to me, y/n,” he says with a chuckle. The conversation was light, no harm or accusatory tones being displayed. He was merely curious about what was going on in that little head of yours. “You can talk to me, always.”

“I know,” you relent, joining back together with him. “I’m just…content, is all.”

John B. raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk dancing along his lips. The smell of cheap beer could be smelled from his breath, and his corny Hawaiian shirt reeked of weed. You weren’t any better, though, with your bloodshot eyes and racing heart from one shot after the other with JJ. Your Converse were matted with dirt and spilled White Claws, squeaking against the beer can littered floors of his living room. It was your perfect paradise, despite everything working against the two of you. Anything was paradise with John B. and your best friends at your side.

You finally gave into his magnetic stare, his eyes your weakness. “I don’t wanna get older,” you sighed. “I don’t want to lose all of this.” You gestured to his small shack, complete with its unwashed dishes in the sink and sticky counter covered in God knows what.

John B. could only laugh softly at your confession. “So you want JJ to stay on his drunk ass on our couch for eternity?” he joked, swiftly dodging your punch.

“Not that,” you whined, but you couldn’t stop your heart from flipping at the way he called this place “ours.” That is what you didn’t want to lose. “I don’t want to get all old and wrinkly to a point where you don’t wanna love me. Or too old to go on adventures with the group and dive for random shit that tourons leave behind. Or too–”

“Slow down, n/n,” John B. cut you off. He reached for the sides of your face, his thumbs grazing your cheeks to wipe away the tears that began to form. “None of that is gonna happen,” he reassured you. “Yeah, we’re gonna get old and gross, but that’s not going to stop us from doing stupid shit.” You choked out a wet laugh at his wording. “We’re still going to take the boat out any chance we get. We’re still going to try and fail to prevent JJ from cliff diving. We’re still going to go on adventures together, and we are still going to be in love, no matter how old we get, you hear me?”

You nodded, but a pout still remained on your lips. John B dropped one hand to grab yours and kiss it softly. “We’re gonna get old,” he whispered. “And you’re gonna be my girl forever. You’re gonna wear that cocaine colored wedding dress and walk down the aisle, and I’m going to cry like a baby through it all.”

John B. pulled you in and began swaying again. Like clockwork, you rested your cheek against his shoulder. “I’m going to get a job, and we’re going to buy a house on a hill so we don’t have to worry about our basement flooding after hurricanes. We’re going to have three kids -no, four- and you can take care of them in that house.”

“Like a housewife?” you snorted, shaking your head in disbelief.

John B. dipped you carefully, a boyish smile on his face. “Well, you can do whatever you’d like,” he reasoned. “If you don’t want that, we can be a team and raise them together. I can..can be a mechanic or engineer, and you can be a teacher. Or nurse, or doctor, or whatever you want. I just want you to be happy and never stress.”

“We can cross that bridge when we get to it,” you decided, tears dried and frown replaced by a smile. “I guess getting older isn’t too bad, then.”

“With you?” John B. questioned as the song came to an end. “It’ll be worth it all.”

#john b routledge x reader #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b #john b fanfiction #outerbanks #obx #obx fanfiction #outerbanks fanfiction #requests #john b fluff #john b routledge imagine #john b routledge fluff

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chiki-chiki-ahh · 22 days

Text

April 17th member messages

I managed to get the post translated by a native speaker for better accuracy and less meaning getting lost by google translate being confused by idioms and such.

I believe that we, international fans, deserve to get the same closure.

RUKI

At the end, he said, "I want the GazettE to be eternal."

What did he mean by eternity?

I think he hopes that the view that Reita himself saw from the stage in 2023 will continue forever.

The view he saw with his fans.

The happy faces of his fans.

The view where we could all shout together.

That is a treasure that can't be replaced by anything else.

I think he wanted those moments to last forever.

I remember him saying he wanted to perform a concert as soon as possible.

Even now as an adult, he was a kind and passionate man who could honestly say, "Even when I'm having a bad day, I have the most fun when I get together with the band members like this and laugh."

He was a kind and passionate man who could honestly say that.

I loved that honesty.

We used to jokingly tell each other every birthday that we should take care of each other's health every year, and this year is no different.

The band will never be four people.

No matter what anyone says.

You're the only bass player in our band.

I believe that [your] spirit will always be right next to me.

You can feel it even if you can't see it.

The living proof that you've built up the GazettE up until now will never disappear and will always live on.

I believe that, and I want to make sure that the soul of the GazettE is right next to me.

I'll keep singing next to you so that your spirit can be right next to mine.

I will never become the GazettE that Reita hates.

I won't make you feel sad.

I believe that we all live in a finite world, but the soul is something that never disappears.

Reita's soul, the members' souls, mine.

And the fans.

I want to continue performing in such a way that everyone who loves me [/ us] like this will want to come to the stage forever, even if they become just souls.

Therefore, only with each and every one of our fans we can create the view that he wished would be eternal.

That's why I want things to remain unchanged and him to remain there.

Rather than people looking at him and being sad, I think he would want people to remember him as being great.

We are more determined than ever to protect this band.

We'll make the eternity Reita wished to come true.

So, Reita, come to our gigs from heaven every time without hesitation.

Your spot will always be there.

We're going to be extremely busy from now on.

I'll contact you again when the schedule is fixed.

URUHA

To all the fans who have supported Reita so far,

He has been a tremendous support for everyone and for me.

I myself have not been able to accept the fact that he is no longer with us and that we will not be able to stand on stage together.

There may be many things that I will gradually come to understand in the future.

I strongly feel that I need to have the strength to look forward and move forward now, because if I remain in sorrow, I will not be able to fulfill his wish for eternity.

And I believe that the path he has taken with everyone so far has been invaluable to him, and I think it will live on in everyone's and my heart for a long time to come.

He has given so much and has been with us for so long that he is and will forever remain our best friend.

Please keep all the words, memories and love he left behind in your hearts.

Reita will continue to exist and live on in everyone's hearts.

We would like to thank everyone who has supported the GazettE's Reita so far.

AOI

For a long time now, the members and a few staff have been doing a lot of different jobs, "this and that", but I wanted to do anything but write this.

There have been moments in the past when I felt like giving up on my dream.

Each time, we discussed it again and again, and sometimes we pushed our backs [and supported each other] so they wouldn't give up.

It was because we were such a band that the GazettE was able to keep going without stopping.

Reita, you are not the one who should wish for eternity, you are the one who is supposed to connect eternity.

I can't say to you, "I'll carry the burden [of connecting the eternity] for you", that's not a cool line.

I wanted to play more music with you, I wanted to see more of the world with you.

Any view is great when you see it with us five, surrounded by fans.

I don't know, there are so many things I want to say, but it's just too painful that none will be a reality.

Anyway, when I go over there, I'm going to start scolding you. I know you'll miss us since we're suddenly gone, but until then, just rest up.

I have a few more things to do over here.

Thank you for walking this long road together. Please rest in peace.

KAI

For me, Reita is an immeasurably big presence, I was saved by many of his words and sounds, he is the mood maker for the band, and all I can remember is how much fun he is, and above all, how he shined on stage.

He is our best and only rhythm partner.

That has never changed and will never change.

I will continue to carry his thoughts on my shoulders and continue the GazettE with even greater determination.

Finally, to all the fans and everyone involved who have supported us for 22 years.

Thank you very much.

And from now on, we would like to continue to run with the five of us without changing our thoughts and feelings.

Reita,

Thank you for your hard work.

I will continue to protect the GazettE with the same feelings and many friends… I promise.

I don't want those 22 years [with you] to be in vain, there are a lot of friends that are waiting for us.

You should definitely show up at the gigs too!

Let's have a good drink again.

#the gazette #reita #the meaning remains the same for the most part but there were parts that raised confusion or some speculations #with that i'm logging off again

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tojifile · 11 months

Text

Fyodor Dostoevsky: Masquerade

Genre: Angst

No— no, not Yes, dearer than you. (Dazai's version)

(・–・;)ゞ Fyodor Dostoevsky x gn!reader inspired by Dangerously Yours Masquerade & junosmindpalace

You were such a fool to think he would save you, that he would choose you over his idea of a perfect world. Isn't any person who would fall in love truly a fool? "Please.. Fedya.. you can't do this.." you mumbled weakly. He couldn't stand to face you, your damp cheeks, your tired eyes, and shaking figure but the thought of leaving you hadn't withered.

He gave in and walked over to you. He stared at your trembling body on the floor before he sat down and held you close. Your head was on his chest and he hugged you tightly. He remained silent as he held you. His gaze was gentle and his touch was comforting, you almost forgot about how your heart shattered into pieces.

He hadn't been home these past few days and so you were surprised when you saw him standing by the door frame of your shared bedroom with a cup of tea in his slim, pale hands.

You slowly sit up on the bed to face him with a soft smile. Fyodor returned the soft smile, he slowly walked to you "Darling.. I apologize for not being able to go home these past few days." He spoke softly, even the simplest of words become elegant as soon as they fall from his mouth.

He sat on the edge of the bed, right next to you. He handed you the cup gently then you took a sip "Thank you Fedya." You spoke so softly that even Fyodor felt as if he could be able to sleep peacefully—and that was exactly the problem. You've had too much of an effect on him.

Shatter, the cup of tea fell on the floor. The glass shattered, your hands immediately travel to your neck trying to gasp for air. Fyodor had poisoned you. He stood up and walked towards the room's exit but before he did you fell on the floor, trying to reach for him. You fell on the shattered glass, it cut your smooth skin, hands and legs all bloodied.

"Stay.. please.." You weakly spoke, lifting one arm up, trying to reach for him as your vision blurred. Fyodor stopped walking, he stayed silent. This was the moment he had given up and held you in his arms, amidst the shattered glass.

You look up at him with a soft smile as you were in his arms. Fyodor was surprised, he had not expected such a welcoming smile. You raised your bloodied hands to hold his face. "I wish— we were two other people. Two other people who need not say goodbye." You whispered softly. Fyodor stayed silent, he faced you with a look of indifference but the way his grasp tightened around your body told you all that you needed to hear.

"Fedya.. I once offered you three things most dear to me: my heart, my country, and my dream." Your voice broke almost everytime you spoke "but tonight, I offer you another, my soul. You may as well take what I had offered Fedya, it's already full of you.." Fyodor's grasp got tighter and he held you closer. Your hands fall to your chest while his chin rested on your head.

"You'll live a long time, an eternity without me. You will look into the faces of passersby, hoping for something that will, for an instant, bring me back to you. You will find moonlit nights strangely empty because when you call my name through them, there will be no answer. Always your heart will be aching for me and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that you did what was "best" for the world." You spoke with what little life you had left in you.

"If I betray you, I betray myself. If I betray my ideals, I betray the world. My idea of a perfect world is very dear to me." Fyodor spoke "Dearer than I?" You asked, knowing the answer "Yes darling, dearer than you." You just softly smiled even if he didn't see. "And as my last words - I love you Fedya." As you weakly spoke those words Fyodor kissed your head as he activated his ability. Your blood was all over him and all over the room's walls, you were now nothing more than a pool of blood, something to be discarded.

Author's notes:

I love Masquerade, Catherine and Rudolph make me wanna curl up and die. I will definitely do more for different bsd characters, I just felt like this would suit Fyodor.

Spontaneous post: 06/20/23 14:37PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

#fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor Dostoevsky x reader #Dangerously yours #bsd #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo sd #bungou stray dogs #bsd angst #xreader #Fyodor x gn!reader #Fyodor Dostoevsky x gn!reader

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moonlight-prose · 1 month

Text

FIRST LIGHT

➛ #01. ETERNAL DARKNESS

a/n: this fic has been shoving its way to the front of my brain for months now. so i finally decided to sit down and write the first chapter. tommy miller somehow snuck up on me in 2023, and now there's really no going back with this man. i love him and all his agonies. this is a fic that i'm really connected to and terrified to post actually. it's also a level of angst i've never put out before so i'm handing tissues to y'all now.

summary: tommy miller never thought he would end up alone. not when he had family behind him - a life that wasn't perfect, but good enough. yet there he was, kneeling on the cold forest floor - bloodied and bruised - asking to die. until light streams through the trees, and he sees you.

word count: 2k+

pairing: tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, grief, angst so much angst it's actually painful, tommy wants to die, tw suicide mention, blood, death, grief, the horrors of living through an apocalypse, IF YOU DON'T VIBE WITH A TON OF ANGST THIS IS NOT FOR YOU.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

There was no light in a body split down the middle. A body filled to the brim with splinters and jagged edges. With a hollow emptiness that created an opening—a chasm.

He could feel how the darkness soaked in, filling the spaces where light once belonged—where hope used to be. But nothing could exist if pain—grief—reigned free. A wild ruthless thing, cracking apart whatever remained. Feeding off the shine that once thrived there.

There was no light.

Not anymore.

He ran through the woods, the heaviness of his boots snapping twigs and branches as he went. The cracking echoed through the air, sharp and loud, accompanied by the heaviness of his breaths. Each one, more painful than the last. His fingers clenched around the ripped leather wrapped around the blade’s handle so tight his knuckles went white. At one point it was brand new, perfect. A birthday gift from his brother. He called it special—once.

Now it dripped red.

Wild eyes darted around the surrounding area, his breaths coming in slower—an attempt to slow the erratic beat of his heart. He could still taste it. The pungent sting of copper that built up in the back of his throat like bile. He couldn’t tell the difference at this point. They burned all the same.

Sucking in a breath, he felt his chest tighten, his eyes red with exhaustion. The nights were desolate, sleep no longer a priority when nothing but memories of a past he couldn’t get back to plagued him. What he wouldn’t give to go back. Maybe then he could save himself; end it before it even began.

Birds no longer chirped the same. He noticed that three days into being alone. As if nature had taken her beauty away; an act of punishment for the selfish behavior of humanity. They took her for granted. Used her up until nothing remained; until her grounds ran red with blood. And this was their consequence. An eternity of misery, of reaping what they sowed from her poisoned grounds.

He stopped breathing, stilled every limb of his body, and listened. For the signal of people coming after him. Or something worse. For a blissful numbing moment, he wished for the latter.

At least then he’d have an excuse.

His palm was warm, slicked and sticky with the color of crimson that stained his skin. A red right hand for the man filled with nothing but regret. If he could feel anything, he might have laughed at the sheer irony. Once upon a time he wanted to save the world. Now he was ready to watch it burn.

Silence spilled out of every corner. A deafening echo he yearned to find relief in. His body had other ideas though.

Clambering forward, he pressed himself against the nearest tree. The bark scraped his palm as he clutched it, tight enough to draw blood. But the bile had built and built and he could feel his body beg for something other than pain. Tilting forward he went dizzy as he dry heaved. His stomach was empty—the food he stole burned a hole in his pack.

Would it set him on fire?

Would he turn to ash here in the middle of the woods?

A sickening hope entered his chest. As thick as tar and black as night. Yet for a man who had nothing to cling to—this was enough. This would have to do.

He’d take what he could get. In a world ruined by death, a bitter hope was all he could carry. He would continue to push this boulder of grief up the hill paved with the souls of the past. The ones who could no longer sustain the heavy weight of their own heart. Some days he wondered if he could keep going, yet every morning he still woke up.

A bit more numb than the day before.

But still alive.

He used to feel hopeful at the realization. Now all that remained was bitter disappointment.

He bit down on the inside of his right cheek hard to stave off his pained shout. Copper flooded his mouth, but this was familiar. As if his body recognized a taste it’d grown to know. Clutching his thigh and waist, he stumbled away from the tree. There was nowhere to go, no place to hide, but the drive to keep moving kept him alive. The need to be anywhere but here.

Blood coated his once white t-shirt, his jeans a darker hue of blue as the wound on his thigh continued to drain out. Tommy knew he didn’t have long—spots of darkness peeking into the corners of his vision. The threat of oncoming blackness.

“Fucking shit,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as the burn of pain spread through his veins.

Images of the man flashed behind his eyelids. Blood, so much of it, filled his senses. He could still smell it, the hot flush against his skin as he pressed down on the blade hard enough to sever that link between life and the human body. How ruthless he’d been was sharp in his mind. And for the first time in a long time, Tommy was afraid of himself.

He killed the man with his special knife. The engraving Joel placed there—a reminder that his brother was always with him—glared back. I’m proud of you, coupled with the offset reflection of a man he didn’t recognize. There was no life in his brown eyes, no light. Only a thrill he’d seen before—a darkness he locked away the second it crept to the surface.

A piece of him that wasn’t human.

He bit down harder on his cheek, tearing through the flesh with ease. Would Joel be proud of him now? Would he look at him with the eyes of a big brother? The promise to protect him lingering in the brown Tommy knew better than his own. Or would he leave him alone all over again; claim he was a lost cause. After all, there was no use in saving the soul of a man this far gone.

Tommy’s breaths came in short, quick little gasps as he fought to stay upright. To push his boulder a little further.

But what was the use? What did he have left to offer the world? The man’s blood began to dry to his skin, into the grooves and lines of his palms. His fate line, heartline, and everything in between now coated in the essence of another being. A reminder that what he had done—what he’d taken—would remain with him until the end of his lifeline.

Being alone wasn’t new to him. Not when his only sibling had to grow up faster than he expected, leaving Tommy behind to figure out shit on his own. But this…the aching pit of isolation was something he didn’t know how to handle. He could still see Joel’s face, the lines of disappointment suddenly deeper than when he was younger. Pity in the brown that once used to shine with hope.

They both changed. They had to with the way things shifted so quickly.

Except Tommy never thought the only thing keeping him sane—the only tie he had to his past—would leave him alone.

He felt that overwhelming despair begin to swell in his throat, clawing to his chest like a beast starving for more. There was no one here to see him fail. No one here to save him from the darkness.

There was no one here to watch him die.

“Please,” he breathed, his voice ragged and raw from not needing to use it. As days came and went he remained silent. His words, trapped in the empty cavern of his chest.

There was no reason to speak when no one would hear his agony.

“Please.”

The beg morphed the longer he stood there, repeating it softly. Swaying on his feet. He wasn’t sure who he was speaking to. Who his plea was going out to, but Tommy didn’t care anymore. The pain that he tried to control—keep at bay for as long as he could—finally began to seep into his mind. Cracking the final pieces of his soul off like a bottle shattering on the floor. He begged for the release of this anguish, for time to turn back, for his brother to return to him.

He begged for death on a silver platter.

Unashamed, unabashed, and unafraid.

His knees slammed against the forest floor as he fell, his body sagging forward slightly, hands clutching onto his waist as blood spilled down his leg. If he didn’t patch himself up and chose to remain this way, he’d eventually bleed out. Right here on the dirt. He’d return to the Earth, become one with the moss that would eventually grow over his body.

Even that seemed like the better choice than this.

Fighting to live without end. In a world that would be happy to see him get snuffed out like a candle. Entirely blown away with nature’s breath. Her viciousness finally coming to fruition.

He gasped for a breath. Hot tears spilled over his scraped cheeks, his blood split lip from fighting now burning with the salt. Only this time he didn’t try to stop himself, sober his emotions and gather his surroundings. This time, he sunk into the darkness that ate away at his soul, consuming him bit by bit like a decadent meal it wanted to savor. He was its sustaining life force.

Until there was nothing left of him.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking from the strain of the truth.

Tommy had never known an emotion quite like this. He never knew what welcoming death meant. Although he supposed a man would never know until he was faced with its truth; until something pushed him far enough.

He’d seen Joel go through it. Watched as his brother grappled with the decision to stay alive, and he would have joined Sarah soon enough. If Tommy hadn’t shoved his hand out of the way. Joel claims he flinched, Tommy knew the truth. He didn’t flinch, he stood still as stone with his eyes closed…he never saw Tommy’s hand coming.

But Joel would never know the truth.

A soft grin played on his lips as memories of his brother and niece flashed behind his eyes. Like a movie reel playing in a lonesome theater. He was the only person sitting there, transfixed to the screen. And Tommy would have spent the rest of his life there, watching. At least there he felt joy, hope. Emotions he thought he’d never have again.

“Please,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering open to see the light that filtered through the branches.

It fell on the floor like a spotlight, playing along it like water, and he found himself breathless to its beauty. Nature was extending her hand gently, offering him the last bit of beauty he’d get to witness. Placing a small amount of peace at his feet in retribution for what he’d gone through; what he was giving up. Tommy’s wounds continued to bleed, but for that brief moment…he didn’t feel a thing.

No pain, no hurt.

Just peace.

Something cracked in the distance, a twig breaking under the boot of someone, but he felt no need to react. The blade lay on the ground beside him, still bloody, still tainted with his guilt and regret. But there was no use picking it up now. He was already too far gone. Another helpless soul lost to a world on fire.

He could see it now. The sunlight illuminated behind their body, a soft voice echoing in the distance, and his lips curved into yet another smile. Was this nature? Had she come to lead him? Tommy gasped in another breath, forcing his eyes to focus, and yet all he could see was a blurred sight of this being. They practically glowed as they approached quicker than before.

“Hi,” he murmured, eyes wide yet unseeing.

Soft warm hands cupped his face, tilted his head, and replied something he couldn’t hear. But the light was too bright, too welcoming, and Tommy was so fucking tired. More words came, questions. He heard nothing. Just the softness of their touch, the gentleness of their nature, until it all faded. And nothing remained.

#catch me hiding for a WEEK after posting this #to all the tommy girlies i formally hand in my apology now #joy? i don't know her #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller #tommy miller fic #the last of us fic #my writing

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alluringjae · 2 years

Text

sinfully vowed to you - jjh

open your legs, not your bible | sinfully vowed to you

SUMMARY. how far will you go for love? perhaps to the point you’re bound for marriage, but the groom you seek isn’t the one your heart beats for. and desperately, you must gamble everything without regrets.

PAIRING. jaehyun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT. 13.2k

GENRE. loads of angst, fluff, and slice of life at the end | rich bad boy!jaehyun, rich good girl!reader, implied enemies to lovers!au, forbidden romance!au

PLAYLIST. don’t blame me (sped up and reverb) by taylor swift [the main reason of how this story came to be]

WARNINGS. arranged married to a surprise neo, mentions and appearances of more neos, references to and slight bad-mouthing Christianity, one heated argument where 2 of the 10 commandments are recited, mentions and portrayal of manipulative parents, explicit language, petnames, “stop the wedding” shenanigans, mentions of Satan, mentions and potrayals of physical and verbal assault, eloping, allusions to virginity loss and sex, mention of praise kink, tension between rival families, pregnancy ((let me know I missed anything else))

⤑ vero’s words: reposting bc tvmblr being a bit rood for not showing up on the tags 💀 also did some minor edits and added extra parts i forgot from my final draft huhuhu but omg yeah thank you for all the love for the first part!!! i didn’t expect it to blow up my phone notifs soooo i hope this second part (unsure if it’s the last one who knows right) makes up the sudden cliffhanger HAHAHAHA happy reading!!! 💗

⤑ disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. i don’t own the people/characters written, but the plot is mine. translations or copying my work is not allowed.

⤑ masterlist

⤑ leave me some feedback or hellos!

SIX HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

They say a wedding is every little girl’s dream. Whether it was the white gown or having a gorgeous partner at the end of the aisle whom they truly love, it’s like magic unfolding by the eyes of their esteemed guests.

The power of love ever so beautiful, and how everyone anticipates for it to grown each passing. And for the couple, to be eternally bound and in love until their final breath.

You were one of those little girls caught up in the fantasy, until it was tainted by the bitter reality of your pre-constructed future.

Hushed chatter are exchanged between your assigned makeup artist and hair stylist. They express pride in being booked by such an influential family for such a lavish wedding, doing their best to live up to the high expectations. But they’ll never understand how the smiles you give when they loop you into their small talk, it’s an act. Deep down, you dread their fruits of their labor working out.

Yet you wish to stop yourself from changing into this magnificent white gown cascading every curve of your figure. The upper half is of a tube design, folded twice and sewn. As for the bottom, the fabric are crafted into ruffles that flair until the bottom. A veil is clasp on top of your bun, awaiting until the big event to place over your head. Oh, there are gloves to match.

“Keep yourself entirely covered and pure after your wedding vows.” Your mother once insights as you nod along during your first dress fitting back then. Quite ironic to hear that now, huh?

Eventually (and much to your convenience), the overall styling is done. You bid genuine gratitude to the staff before they exit your hotel room while you remain alone to rest up. It was going to be a long day of superficial joy before facing lifelong period of unhappiness and duty.

As much as you want to enjoy your beautiful reflection right by the full-length mirror, your heart cannot simply move past the tragedy and pain strongly throbbing inside you.

What was the point to be dolled up like this if the groom you seek is not the chosen one?

And what more for a wedding being the happiest day of every little girl’s life if your arranged groom already has a special someone vacating their heart?

The outside world can only rejoice for such a joyous occasion, but the two of you can only mourn for the freedoms that have been permanently washed away.

Quite frankly enough, you still remember that very day you met your fiancé. You can only grieve for what has already been done without your willing knowledge and consent…

And for what else is to come after it.

TEN MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

It’s merely two days after your father’s sudden announcement of marriage, and your groom-to-be reached out to you through your mother. He didn’t have your number, so he contacted her first then you.

Meanwhile, your poor heart remains to sob and cry out every ounce of pain. Yet it never decreased, especially when you still had to tell Jaehyun. But you still didn’t have the bravery, dodging his calls and texts on your burner phone.

For the meantime, you needed to face your groom-to-be in hopes for at least a civil relationship.

The cafe near your office was a good 5 minute walk for him, and out there he already laid out his honest intentions and thoughts.

“I understand what we must do for our families’ empires.” He starts off in a downcast manner. “But do know that affection-wise, I can never reciprocate it with you.”

You curved a mini grin. “What’s she like then?”

“Wait, are you not offended?” He’s taken aback. Nothing has occurred but rejecting any future romantic endeavors to the kindest and most angelic woman in the city. He’s aware of the asshole move, but your reaction is very unlike you.

You laugh, breaking a bit of the tension. “Should I be?”

“We’re set to be married, to fall in love over time. So it’s unfair for you if I can’t give you just that. And my, you deserved to be loved in full.”

You heart wrenches. “But you deserve that just as much as I do because--“

“Because?”

“My heart belongs to another as well.”

Silence floods the both of you. Eye contact is evident, not ignored. Your irises drain of energy, of hope. And yet, there’s a nudge of comfort in sharing burdens together.

The burden of your liberty fading day by dad and impenetrable heartbreak.

And even if Jaehyun doesn’t know it yet, you’re already grieving.

“If not a loving relationship,” He cuts the tension. “May we at least remain amicable? I understand that our fates are shitty, but I cannot find any reasons to hate you.”

“I-I’d like that.” You stutter, glad that one good thing came out of a rather pleasant conversation. “I look forward to putting on a façade for the world with you.”

And as if by magic, your future dons a gummy smile. “Likewise, (Y/N). It’ll be a lot less hellish with you by my side.”

The two of you shake hands to it.

“I truly apologize for my family’s greed, (Y/N).” He says with guilt.

“I apologize for the same thing as well, Doyoung.”

THREE HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Speaking of the man, your phone pings with a notification. The two of you communicate constantly like close friends, a surprising pro to everything.

DY KIM: My mother is looking for you

DY KIM: She wants a photo of her future mother-in-law

(Y/N) Lee: Ew gross

(Y/N) Lee: How fake can she get this time in liking me

DY KIM: As fake as her beloved nose job

(Y/N) Lee: Jesus Doyoung

DY KIM: HAHAHAHA I’d say hurry once you’re done having some last minute alone time

DY KIM: I really don’t want to be around your parents, especially your over-the-top, conservative mother

(Y/N) Lee: Is she telling you not to meet me rn bc it’s gonna bring us misfortune

(Y/N) Lee: If she is, don’t even bother

(Y/N) Lee: Althoughhhh I do stand by that if you don’t mind

DY KIM: Oh, I see. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know

(Y/N) Lee: No worries, we have our whole lives to figure more things about each other

DY KIM: such a scary idea

(Y/N) Lee: not as scary as both your parents asking me about our future children

DY KIM: I AM STILL SO SORRY ABOUT THAT

(Y/N) Lee: It’s alright, Doyoung

(Y/N) Lee: That is one of my main duties as your future wife

DY KIM: But I don’t wanna think of that yet

DY KIM: Let’s focus on getting through this show

DY KIM: So I’ll see you in the altar?

(Y/N) Lee: Definitely, see you then.

It’s strange how you and Doyoung managed to create a friendship in the midst of your emotional distresses. Maybe in this lifetime, you’re only destined a marriage out of duty. But out of love? There’s no room for that.

Though perhaps now, you may have given yourself an exception. You share a loving look in the mirror because regardless of the occasion, you’re dressed to the nines. You shall not waste it.

You’re only going to get married once after all, right?

“Miss Lee.” Someone knocks on the bedroom door of your suite. It was one of the wedding planners, whose arms carry a captivating bouquet of white roses.

Your favorite.

“These are lovely!” Your legs carefully rush towards her, hoping not to break your heels. “Are these the flowers I’ll be walking the down aisle with?”

“Yes!” She replies. “In fact, this was a last-minute decision because the original red roses sent by the Kims are a bit too striking to the eye. You should be the main star after all.”

You nod. “If that’s the case, may I know who I sent them?”

“Funny you ask, Ms. Lee.” The planner takes a few steps back, only to return with an enclosed white envelope. “This gift came from an anonymous person, and one of my team members was informed that only you can read the letter it comes.”

Your brows scrunch in suspicion and confusion as you accept the envelope. But before you can question it, the planner interrupts your thoughts. “The car you’ll be riding in to go to the church is arriving soon, so we must head out in a bit.”

“Yes, I got that.” You affirm, trying not to get too caught up on this extra frenzy. Curiosity is a great trait of yours, but it can be problematically uncontrollable at time. “May I just spend a few more minutes to read this letter and touch up on my perfume? This can be from all my brothers.”

“Of course.” With that, the planner bows with respect as she leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Without anymore time to waste, your fingers rip out the envelope whilst enjoying the fresh aroma of the flowers. Straight out of the shop for sure, could all your brothers possibly have the time to buy it?

Taeyong is too occupied with his wife and only son to consider such a request.

Ten, your half-brother, just flew in this morning from Thailand. Staying any longer than today can cause major havoc, especially with your mother.

Mark sucks at being romantic. No wonder he can’t keep any of his ex-girlfriends.

Jeno, well. It’s not his thing. Not with his playboy personality lately.

Haechan is still hungover from partying with his friends just last night according to your sibling group chat.

Yet even with this, you’d still like to give all of them the benefit of the doubt. As the only girl in the Lee family, they respect and love you in their own ways. And it’s your wedding day, for God’s sake. They’re aware of how unhappy you are despite denying such, so sending flowers are their way of cheering you up.

Oh, how wrong you are.

Innocently, you unfolded the letter and bit by bit, your mouth lets out a gasp. The handwriting is all too familiar from the first few words on top, alongside the fresh perfume that was sprayed on it.

It came from the last person you can ever expect. The last person you could think or dream about.

Yet the only person your heart desperately longs for.

You’re gutted, yet you needed to contain yourself.

But fuck, flashbacks of the last time you saw each other replay in your head. And none of them were good memories.

FIVE MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Time is crucial in everything you do.

And you knew you fucked up when you kept delaying on telling Jaehyun your wedding when he saw it on today’s major headline in the news.

Here you two were, in your apartment where he manages to sneak in perfectly as always.

But confusion and anger were his driving emotions, and you couldn’t blame him the slightest.

What a coward you are.

“When will you ever stand up for yourself, (Y/N)? When will you call out those people who keep trampling over you?” Those were the first words he expressed, pacing your living room back and forth.

“But these are my parents, Jaehyun!” You tried to stay strong and neutral. You had no choice. “God, I hate them but I can’t lose them. If I do, I lose everyone else.”

“Are you really afraid of losing them or losing the privileges you’ve gained over the years from them?”

“Excuse me?”

“Admit that you are.” He marched forward where you stood. By the window, you’re looking down at the impending traffic. At the cars desperately eager to get home, was this how God saw everyone? Does He watch the suffering of His children in hopes they learn a lesson, or to put them through absolute misery?”

Because nothing else can destroy your heart but Jaehyun’s pain directly speaking at you.

“They’ll remove you from their wills and inheritance, try to blacklist you everywhere, badmouth you to other, rip the whole city apart even to find wherever you are if you run away.” He listed on and on. “How do I know? Because I’m afraid too.”

“Fearing of starting anew, fearing that no one will support you, fearing of what’s to come when you disobey mommy and daddy because you’ve broken Commandment #4.”

“Honor your mother and father.” You responded naturally. How can you not when it’s a major rule you followed all your life?

“But you and I both know that they’re neither deserving of such because they are a lot worthy in the deeper realms of hell.” He spat without care.

“Don’t say that!” You protest.

“But you know I’m right!” And you knew was, but your pride was too high for that. Call it your only sin, one of the seven deadly ones. Truly ironic on your end.

“But it’s not that easy to stray away from my family! Unlike you whose parents give you so much freedom to explore, I am always on a leash.” You try to defend yourself, close to being on the verge of tears. Everything you’ve built with Jaehyun is starting to fall apart. The only person who’s made you feel sane and at ease. But you’re cornered with no choice. “So if I choose to be impulsive, I’ll be trapped. Locked in my bedroom like Rapunzel.”

You distance your glare towards another view, not wanting Jaehyun to see your now falling tears. “And if I run away and fail, my fate can be similar to Taeyong and Ten.”

Memories of Taeyong and Ten being beaten up to a pulp by your father and his henchmen when they tried to expose the corruption of your family to a media news outlet replays your mind. You were still in university, and didn’t mean to see that happening if not for your dying thirst. There was a water dispenser outside your bedroom, and wretched sounds from downstairs piqued your curiosity. Alas, whines from your older brothers as he was punched ruthlessly and bloodily in the living room. Your mother can only cry on the side, merely being a bystander to the abuse because she can’t stop your father.

“But has it crossed your mind that maybe, your brothers not want you to go through what they went through?” Jaehyun tries to compromise. Anything to keep you in his life. “That they too want you to make the big change in the family?”

“Even if they did, I just can’t risk it. Especially as the only woman among my siblings, marriage out of duty is my right.”

“What about us? Our freedom?”

“Freedom for a love like ours…” You trail. “… can only leave us 6 feet under.”

“But aren’t we worth a fight?” He begs. “I know what we signed up for our love likes ours, but shouldn’t we give it a shot? Give us a shot.”

“Jaehyun--“

“Do you not love me enough? Or is it me that loves you more than you?”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Everything that’s happening right now is bullshit because rather than doing what’s right, isn’t pushing through with the wrong?” His temper nearly tramples your room down. Getting a noise complaint right now is the last thing you needed. “Isn’t that contradictory as the good religious girl you are?”

“So you think that I am the bad one here?” You almost scream in stress. “God, I should’ve never given you a chance.”

“Say that again, angel.” Jaehyun’s voice lowered.

Oh shit, you fucked up with your mindless words.

Your lover straightens his back, showcasing his full height. How he hovers you, making you walk back again while he follows. That’s until you hit the wall loud and clear. “I don’t think I can’t hear you clearly.”

“You Jeongs are trouble and always will be. How dumb of me to have been so merciful to sinners like you.”

“That’s not what you said when you kissed me back a lifetime ago.” He plays around your charade. He knows you don’t mean it.

“What makes you think God will take you back?” You challenge.

“If I had to attend mass every day and bathe myself in holy water to clear myself of every remnant of you, so be it.” His hands rake over your body, one landing on your waist and the other planted on the wall near your face. Lowering his stance, your body get goosebumps from the words that he whispers in your ear. “Commandment #9: Thou shall not bear false witness against me.”

You bit your lips, which he makes him smirk. To add, “We all know you’re uttering a lie, baby.”

As his ego inflates, that’s only when your senses return to their normal state. “Get off me.”

“But you’re my religion, baby.”

“Commandment #1: Thou shall have no other Gods before Me.” You retaliated. “Convert back to your old self, Jaehyun. The one before you rejoined Bible study.”

“Baby.”

“It’s blasphemous to describe me as a religion when I am no god. So If you really love me, you’d understand my sense of duty and let me go.” Don’t. Please. You’re at a point of confusion, but you cannot let whatever feelings you have for Jaehyun jeopardize your life. Perhaps these feelings shall pass too.

Right?

“(Y/N).”

“Please don’t make it any harder for us, Jaehyun.” You weakly pushed him away. “So please go.”

Jaehyun’s been the type to rile you up, to take risks. But he knows when enough is enough. As your orbs have been drained of its light, and your back slouched in fatigue, it’s a pain to see you this way.

But the pain that piles in his chest was more superior, and he starts to lash out. Like he’s back in square one with you.

“I loathe your family. You robbed my family all those years ago, so I thought I’d never like you no matter how kind-hearted you are in and outside the church. But I was so fucking wrong.” He starts to cry, which he rarely does. And it’s from the last person he ever expected it to be from. His only lover, the only person who understood him, was leaving him.

“You’re the only one who understood me when everyone turned their backs at me for my sharp tongue. Sure, we argued a lot but you put me in my place. In my cold world, you embraced me with warmth. You taught me how to soften up and make amends with Sungchan, and showed me what real love is unlike the harshness of my parents.” Your back was turned when he kept talking this point on, refusing to confront him more. It’s too much you can mentally and emotionally handle.

“But that doesn’t really matter anymore.” He sighs, giving up. “I fell for your tricks, and now, you robbed my whole heart. How it beats for you, and only you. Truly, robbing runs in your blood and it shall stay that way forever.”

“Jaehyun, wait--” From your cold stance, only now were you awakened by the consequences of your actions. But it was too late. Jaehyun was by your front door, opening it to exit your home.

And your life forever.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

TWO HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Will you ever be ready to read this note when your parting all those months ago was bitter?

Yet it does cross your mind how he’s been, how can you not be?

If this was your last connection to him, you must savor it. All the sweetness and bitterness blazed in it.

Dearest my angel,

Weddings allow you to witness the passion and love between a couple right before your eyes. There’s truly nothing more breathtaking than that.

I am so sorry for the way I acted that night and each word I spat at you. I pressured you into something that you weren’t comfortable with out of my greed, inconsiderate of how much stress you already were under beforehand. Rather than putting you on the spot and lashing out my growing heartbreak, I should’ve been by your side. To be your shoulder to cry on, especially when we know what kind of love if we’re in.

But forgive me and my poor heart: it still cannot accept that you’re betrothed to another. I cannot invalidate my emotions that day either, but regardless. I am sorry for my actions that night.

They say our kind of love is forbidden, disrespectful to our ancestors who loathed each other. But can we really blame our souls to find connection in the mutual pains of our manipulative families? Should we choose to hate our neighbors because they told us to do so, to continue the generational tradition? Damn, we should never be religious if our sense of humanity is fucked.

By this time, you’re already dressed in a fascinating white gown. You’ve always been beautiful, but you’re bound to make every angel above cry in praise as you walk down the aisle. They’ll see what I see in you, even if I’m not the man who gets to take your hand. Until death do us part, but we’ve already parted before we can ever truly begin.

Thank you for accepting me for who I am. Thank you for making me realize how much I’m worth versus the bad things my parents say about me. Thank you for always encouraging me to go after my dreams even when a lot of people has turned their backs on. Most of all, thank you for loving me as I have loved you.

I don’t deserve a space in Heaven, but I am glad I found Heaven in you. And now, I’m ready to step down. Not necessarily to let you go yet, but in time, I’ll be able to let you go and look back at our memories fondly.

So please don’t shed any more tears if I am the cause of them; it aches my heart thinking of it because you deserve all the happiness in the world. Freely live a new life with your groom and create amazing memories with him.

I believe that my purpose in God’s plan for you, which is to love you fully and authentically in this world of lies, has been fulfilled.

- J

“We must leave in 5, (Y/N).” The muffled voice of the planner echoes through your trance, one that has you silently sobbing underneath your lips. Tears that threaten to brim down, but your head shakes before they do so.

What have you done? You became a slave to your cowardice for the longest time, only for your courage to finally knock some sense into you. You simply cannot go through this ceremony, you had to get outta there.

But it was already too late. Life doesn’t wait on cowards like you.

With the white bouquet in hand, your last connection with him, you pull yourself together.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

ONE HOUR BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Pictures here, pictures there.

The ceremony hasn’t started, and yet your parents and Doyoung’s demand numerous shots with you by the hotel and in the church. Your toes start to ache in your heels, and to your side, your eyes beg Taeyong and Ten to save you from your misery.

The latter boy laughs from afar, giving you a thumbs up. Or rather his expression read, “You’re on your own to do your duty!”

Meanwhile, Taeyong cuts in between you having dreaded small talk with Doyoung’s self-righteous mother. Already proud to claim herself as your mother-in-law, your ears can bleed for every screech in her tone when she opens her mouth. Under the excuse of “having some 1-on-1 time with my only sister”, Taeyong escorts you to a quiet, closed room within the church.

“Thank God for you, Yongie.” You hug him with utmost gratitude. “I’m about to lose my mind if Mrs. Kim wouldn’t shut up.”

Taeyong laughs, gladly returning your gesture. “Anything for you, little sis.”

You scoff, correcting him. “Your only sis.”

“You know what I mean.”

The two of you smile at each other, enjoying the comfort of silence. Since you were children studying in your living room back then to the first time Taeyong taught you how to drink when you turn 18, he was like your best friend. Through thick and thin, and against your parents the two of you were. Slowly, you’re breaking the cycle of bad deeds.

Or trying to. Because neither of you got away with your arranged marriages.

Speaking of which…

“So this is really happening, huh?” Taeyong starts as he hands over a bottle of water from the refrigerator behind him. It’s by luck the two of you ended up in the private lounge of the church for esteemed wedding guests. “Are you ready for this lifelong commitment, (Y/N)?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You say flatly. “You had to go through this as well, but eventually, you began to love your wife so maybe it’ll work for me too.”

“I was very lucky with Minyoung. She’s my soulmate.” He smiles upon the thought of his lover, but it only enables the green monster of envy into your being. “But I don’t think our situations are ever going to be alike.”

You squint a brow from your stance by the window. “What do you mean?”

“I was single when I was arranged to be wed, no person vacating my heart nor had intentions to look for one.” He lingers, locking eyes with you. His bright, wide pupils that can easily read a person, it was like he was analyzing your entire mind and body language. But alas, he already knows a lot more than you can ever imagine.

It only explains how your fingers drastically slip from your bottle, spilling incandescently on the floor. Thankfully, it didn’t break because of the curtain above the wood. You alertly scurry away from the wet zone and lean against the glass bookcase of religious books. Dare not can you look at your brother in the eye, too busy being washed out with shame, guilt, and misery.

“Taeyong, I can explain.”

“What else is there to explain, little sis?” He keeps his composure, unfazed. No anger, no outlash, no negative emotions bubbling his figure. “Other than you’re in love with another man, one you know will cause mayhem when mother and father know of it.”

You want to deny everything he’s blurting out to you. But your sudden reaction is too much of a giveaway, and lying to Taeyong is impossible. Not when he’s best at sneaking around and digging secrets about everyone. Why do you think he figured out that Ten’s your half-brother, not just some exchange student from Thailand during your high school years?

“Of all the men out there, did it really have to be Jeong Jaehyun?” He asks with concern in his tone rather than judgement. It was the first time he utter the man’s name without hatred. Not when he’s someone very dear to you.

“Hush your voice! Someone might hear.” You order, peering at the door. Anyone can walk in, or eavesdrop. Your world has eyes and ears everywhere.

“Just answer the question, (Y/N).” His tone deafens, but his composure hasn’t wavered.

You sigh, gazing downwards while your fingers tightly clutch on your gown. “The heart wants what it wants. And I’m sure that until the end of time, it’ll always long for him.”

Taeyong remains speechless momentarily to calibrate with his thoughts. He’s been hesitant with Jaehyun the second he saw return to church a lifetime ago. Always up to no good, yet never to start a fight because he’s not the type. And luckily, they never crossed paths outside. He recalls how nervous he was upon hearing from the latest gossip (aka your mom) that Jaehyun joined the Bible study as probation for his consistent outside bar fights. You’re a consistent goer, so he can only pray that nothing bad happens to you.

Over the course of time, he witnessed Jaehyun tame down and become more active in church. Rather than be bitchy, he was impressed. Only God can judge people, not him. Yet at the same time, he observed how more laidback you became. You’re firm to your beliefs and faith, but not really the toxic, conservative type to force others that your beliefs were better than yours. It was more like you’ve loosened up strings and allowed to let your hair down, socializing more and trying new things. Perhaps riled your mother up for being “unladylike” at times, yet it didn’t bother you anymore. If you had fun and hurt nobody, how should a conservative mother’s unnecessary opinion affect you?

So now, onto you and Jaehyun.

It took him back when you’d both get in trouble by the nuns for your arguments, earning a scolding from him on the phone because “you’re better than this!” or a similar kind of pep talk. It’s merely enemies to somewhat friends when he thinks of the both of you, especially when you opened up how you came into a compromising understanding with Jaehyun out of maturity.

But the idea of love came rushing as he unintentionally saw the two of you kiss on the second floor of the open church. Jaehyun’s palms were situated on your waist while your arms loop behind the nape of his neck, both of you smiling at every movement your lips made.

The second floor is where the choir stays, and you and Jaehyun were packing up their songbooks post-mass. He showed you the different colors of light being reflected from the stained glass artworks. Specifically the image of the Virgin Mary, it lit up the best before the sunset. The both of you were distracted from such beauty, and eventually towards each other when specks of colored light hit your faces. Caught up in a meaningful moment, a passionate kiss where your bodies are right in front of the big crucifix was followed.

A symbol of showing Him that love had no boundaries or limitations.

A symbol that further enlightened Taeyong on how you’ve both changed.

You and Jaehyun balanced each other out over time, so it should be a no-brainer that this was going to happen. Yet he chose not to say anything about it then because he wanted to hear it from you. It was clearly a private moment too. He could’ve been mad, but he wasn’t.

You’re in love, and it’s real.

However, it’s only leading into a loophole of misery. Arranged marriages are a given in your clan, hence refraining from creating close relationships with the opposite sex. Oh, how you broke that rule ruthlessly.

“Who else knows?” You quiver, self-conscious and vulnerable. Were you not secretive enough? Did the burner phones you and Jaehyun used were actually trackable? Did someone follow you? All sorts of questions cloud your already cluttered brain.

“Ten.” Taeyong bluntly responds, and you stiffened.

As much as you love Ten, any so-called steamy information he gets within his circle he uses it as blackmail just like Taeyong. You would know; you were there when he confronted your father about his affair with his mother. That if he has no place in his empire, he’d expose such a scandal. It’s no question your mother (his step-mother when he got adopted a month after the threat) despises him to the core, a lot more than her disloyal husband.

But before the paranoia can worsen, Taeyong chimes in. “Don’t even think he’ll use it against you. In fact, he’s in favor of such like I am.”

“Wait what?!” Now, you’re confused.

“I know I confronted you at the most wrong time, and my tone this whole time is very vague.” He clarifies, and with every word, he walks toward you. As his clammy hands now holding yours, he fully lets out his main truth. “You have to make a choice, and we know this wedding isn’t the right one.”

“Taeyong, it’s too late.” You beg, utterly weak in his eyes. And how it aches him to see you like this. “He’ll never take me back. Not after he found out about the news.”

“You can never be too sure, so I wholeheartedly think that you need to make a move.” Taeyong’s quick vision spots a growing tear in your lid, wiping it carefully with his index finger. “It’s always been you being a pawn in our parents’ game. But this time, change the direction and claim your power as queen.”

“But our younger brothers…”

“I failed to set a proper example before so please learn from my experiences, (Y/N). Show them that we cannot let ourselves be controlled by our parents.”

Right as you wanted to reply, an impatient set of knocks intrude your now-or-never conversation.

“I’m already annoyed that I wasn’t invited to your heartfelt chat.” Ten’s sarcasm pipes in, which eases the tension surprisingly. “But the wedding starts in 5, and I want to spend some time with the bride as well.”

Taeyong hastily unlocks the door, while you followed behind him. Lo and behold, Ten graces a mischievous smirk as he leans against the door frame. Taeyong pecks your temple a final with a fervent look screaming “time is running” before he runs to assist Jeno refix his necktie.

That leaves you with Ten. With his arms crossed, he first marvels at your beauty.

“My sister, ever so beautiful.” The sweet scent of his parfum whiffs your nostrils, making you hum in comfort and familiarity. Regardless of being half-siblings, you always treated him the same as the rest.

“Thank you for coming. I feared that you wouldn’t after your recent brawl with dad.”

“I’d never let any shitty fight with that monster stop me from see you walk down the aisle. Plus, when are we not fighting?” He jokes, his hands finding the cloth of your veil to help you put it over your head. As per tradition as the beauty of the bride must only be saved by her groom. “But are you really happy to be here?”

Always straight to the point, that was Ten for you. With one brow lifting upwards in question, he continues on. “I’ve always known that you wanted real love, and when you did, you chose not to go through with it.”

“It’s complicated, and you know that.”

“Do I?” He challenges. “You’re in love with a boy who’s part of the rival family. That’s not hard to piece together.”

“How do you even know it’s him we’re talking about?”

“What other guy, excluding us siblings, have you been constantly around with?”

“Doyoung is there.”

“But he came in the picture late. Jaehyun, however--” He lengthens the tension. “He may have gotten on your last nerve numerous times in Bible study, but not when I saw you both have a secret late-night date by the Han River.”

Your eyes widened. Taeyong was right earlier. “Excuse me what?!”

Ten laughs at your shock. “I was trying to easen my hangover from my bar-hopping adventures with our younger brothers that night, but definitely sobered up when I saw you and him giggling over the smallest things by the river.”

“Ten, I—” It was your only public date with him, when no one could ever question or follow your moves. Even managed to convince your parents that you needed fresh air that day after all the stress at the company headquarters.

“Life is too fucking short, (Y/N).” He lays out his advice flatly. No detours, no sweet words. Just the real, harsh truth. “If you don’t make a stand, the regret of it all will kill you.”

PRESENT TIME.

Time can’t spare you a moment to breathe to answer him or deny his intentions. Because the second the wedding planner stressfully calls you over to stand behind the main church doors, all you can focus was this event. This wedding, one that numerous people anticipated. Loads of influential families that are acquainted with your parents filled up every pew, bridesmaids and groomsmen are lining up to enter the church first.

On the other hand, your parents stood each side of you. They beam in excitement, while you try to match them. Everything is for their selfish sake, anyways.

As the doors officially open, harmonious music from the band on the second floor play for everyone’s glee. Couple by couple, flower girl after flower girl, then Doyoung’s youngest cousin as the ring bearer, every single person has their eye on you. How much you’ve grown over the years, the elegance you embody is simply natural and no gown or makeup can compete with that.

Especially your groom, who shares an enchanted gaze at you from afar. And as flawless as he looks in his black suit and tie, the truth-binding words of your older brother resurface your mind. From trying to appreciate the efforts put in making the church a more enamoring location for a wedding, uncontrollable tears grace your visage. You’re glued to the program of this show, and any refusals will be disrespectful.

“Don’t get too emotional now.” Your mother comforts, only thinking that you’re overwhelmed in joy. “It’s only getting better from here.”

Lies.

Only you and Doyoung can truly share the same feeling at this moment. Even if he finds you ever so dashing, he proceeds to mask his own pain with a tight-lipped smile as he watches you walk down the long, flowery aisle. It was a representation of your life together ahead, especially seeing the petals blacken from the dirt. The reality of it all is only hitting you now as your parents hand you over to Doyoung, who directs you to the center. His hands still hold on to your covered ones, keeping up your façade.

“I’m sorry.” He mouths.

“Me too.” You reply.

The first of many. Such a disgrace to the crucifix above, yes. But what else can the two of you do now?

The priest politely greets the two of you before the ceremony officially begins.

The first and second readings ran smoothly, being read by your father and Doyoung’s mother. It’s almost like a typical mass, where the Homily often bores you to the point you wanted to pass out. Even had Doyoung, who sat beside you, worried.

“You look pale.” He comments. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’m fine.” You reassure with a genuine smile. “It’s just hot in this church.”

“When has it not been?” He tries to joke, which you actually enjoyed.

Once the short-lived humor died down, you try to refocus your mind on the ongoing Homily. Surprisingly, you finally pick up and find yourself attentive for a change.

“Love is blind, they say. Perhaps, that’s true, as one cannot control how their heart can beat for another one. But there is also this saying: souls don’t meet by accident. Nothing in life is a coincidence: there’s always a reason why they meet. And when they do, it creates magic. They balance each other out in aspects they fall short, but not necessarily complete them. They bring the best sides of them out, yet fully let their vulnerabilities come under the light without fright. Because they know they’ll be protected than reprimanded.”

You’re unsure how restless your pupils became, eager for new perspectives. Maybe you need a fresher view other than the bright altar? If only you had your eye drops with you to alleviate the dryness, you certainly wouldn’t have felt this way.

As you blink once, twice, a couple more times, your eyes begin to feel better from the natural tears they make to lubricating itself. However, little did you realize where you were looking at.

From the altar, your vision went peripheral. By the second floor, right beside the choir, a silhouette stands up from their pew. Arms crossed and wrapping their arms around their blazer, he was rather suspicious. At this point, you’re quite acquainted with every guest present today. To the point that no one is meant to be seat up there unless you’re in the band.

You’re suddenly become aware that the longer you view that shadow, the weirder it’ll look for the guests. Your curiosity can really take you the far places, but often times, you need to be anchored before flying too far to the sun.

Speaking of which, the bright, shining light directly hits on the aforementioned shadow. Almost like a prayer, it heard you so it gave what you pleaded.

And man, you’re stunned by what unraveled before you.

His brown hair is styled upwards with a few strands in front of his forehead. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were folded to his elbows, while his black trousers have minor creases on the bottom hems. His eyebags darkened, showing lack of sleep on his end. However, his orbs greet yours with warmth. A reconnection, as you find it difficult to stray away. Dimples pop out as he smiles your way, fluttering your heart like a young teenager.

Why was it so familiar to you?

But there’s no way this was real, right? Have you started building delusions in your head as a coping mechanism to your upcoming lifelong misery?

You blink and shake your head for reassurance, but as you reopen your eyes, he was gone like magic. Yet his silhouette lingers through your mind. Alongside that, the ending words of the homily seeped through with a vengeance.

Or rather, redemption.

Because for some reason, the silhouette urged your mind to remember Jaehyun.

“The utmost beauty of these souls is how neither of them were looking when they found each other.” Insert the moment when Jaehyun emerges to the Bible study room for the first time 3 years ago. With a sinister grin and stance, he managed to lock strong eye contact on you as you were passing out Bibles to the other kids. How unshaken you were, yet so entranced by him.

“From meeting, in comes the unconditional love they’ll build.” The innocent memories of your relationship with Jaehyun when you started seeing each other romantically dance around your brain.

“In that love, they put effort everyday through the small things.” You’ve always liked white roses, while Jaehyun fancied sweet potato chips. Every getaway you both had, you’ve gifted each other with those items.

“In that love, it’s impenetrable to conquer every battle and fight that stampedes there.” If not your last encounter, there was one time you may have succeeded here. You recall defending Jaehyun from your parents at home when he put you trouble and “trouble” after Bible study. How even if he’s the so-called enemy, he’s a good person relearning what’s right from wrong. How he is not his family.

“And in that same love, it makes them feel at home.” Cue all the imaginative, future plans you and Jaehyun drunkenly made if your love story wasn’t an impossible tale. How you’d leave it up to the multiverse, you both giggled.

“So my brothers and sisters, in every story, these two souls here,” The priest naively refers to you and Doyoung. “It’s not a coincidence. The Lord knew what he was doing. He didn’t create a perfect love, but a love only the bride and groom would ever know and feel. Yet it’s a love He created in His likeness and image because He loves His children, and only bless them with eternal happiness with each other.”

In your parents’ eyes, they saw your future with Doyoung.

In your eyes, the future was set with Jaehyun. Wherever you are, all you can think of in every word the priest spoke.

And that future with him is ever so clear and beautiful…

Holy shit.

This wedding must not push through.

“Kim Doyoung and Lee (Y/N) have invited us to share in this celebration as they affirm their love before us, pledge their faith to one another and enter into the joys and privileges of marriage.” So caught up in your reverie, you’re back to standing up and facing Doyoung. The recitation of vows approaches. “If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two persons may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Stillness, much to your parents and Doyoung’s delight.

But now, you could care less about what others think. This needs to stop.

This is your life, and you’re reclaiming it as yours.

You need to run far, far away and find him.

Your real love, Jeong Jaehyun.

And to that, you pray within yourself:

“Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby. I'll be usin' for the rest of my life.”

“I can’t do this.” You object boldly, stepping back. “I can’t marry you, Doyoung.”

The audience behind you gasps, the priest and Doyoung especially. “What do you mean, (Y/N)?”

You felt so apologetic for his confusion. “You deserve someone who truly loves you without judgment.”

Your eyes peek over his shoulder to find a woman beside his younger brother Jungwoo quivers at the entire scene. The same woman whom you’ve found out was his first and only love, if not for you asking about her during your first encounter. Yet never did he act on his affections due to the standards of his family, and being the best friend of his brother. He feared of the consequences, but this is no time for fear.

It's time for action. If you’re going to make your move, so should he.

“Fight for your true love. Don’t make them take it away from you.” Your eyes linger momentarily on Doyoung’s real love. “Don’t let them take her away from you, and choose the life where you can be unapologetically and incandescently happy, Doyoung.”

No more words can Doyoung utter towards your plea, but instead lets his daring actions communicate back to you. It was the way his arms looped around her waist, hugging her for dear life. And how she gasped loudly the entire church can hear as she returned his empowering gesture, lacing her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, Sejeong.” Doyoung whispers a little too loudly. “It’s you. It’s always been you, and will forever be you I love.”

Not a breath wasted, these two lovers rapidly make their exit through an emergency door of the church. Doyoung utters nothing more to his parents, but expresses disgust and anger at how he glares at them. I’m done with your shit, his eyes read. Oh, how his dear mother cries out for him to come back while his father holds her back. Jungwoo, on the other hand, claps at his brother’s impressive move. He didn’t even bother listening to his father who ordered him to chase after him.

“They’ve always been in love with each other. Who are you to tell me to stop them?”

Meanwhile, time is ticking for you. You’ve had your run at playing matchmaker, now you need to return to your lover. One you can hope will take you back after your cowardice pushed him back to the pits of hell, while you crawled back to your seat in heaven. Although tainted you are, nothing but a few prayers and consistent good deeds will gain favor from Him again.

And so you ran. Heels of your heels click clack the marble aisle as you remove your gloves. Your freed fingers grasp on the fabric on your gown to move arther and farther away from the altar. Guests are even more bewildered by your actions, never expecting you to turn out this way.

“Lee (Y/N)!” Only the frantic voice of your mother halts you. Call it a natural reaction when you’ve grown up under her care, her ever so manipulative and overprotective care.

You huff, turning around. “What is it, mother?”

Only a few meters away from you, her hand hurtfully grips your arm. “Ow!”

“You disgust me.” She spits. “How dare you embarrass our family like this?! Have you no conscience?! Why are you acting like a child?!”

You scoff, annoyed. “I think I should be asking you the questions.”

“Excuse me?!”

You yank your arm away from her sharp fingers. Your posture stands a little taller, which is your way to signify confidence. Bravery from her threats.

“All my life, you dictated my every move. You constructed me into this good, religious good girl image so others can stray away from the corruption of our family businesses. You banned me to make my own choices and live my own life because you solely believe that your and father’s choices are the best ones. You taught me misleading ideals and beliefs, urging me to hate others who don’t resonate with me and abandon those who are lower than me. And now, you attempted to sell my freedom for the price of overflowing greed.”

You blurt out every ounce of pain you’ve gained all your life, finally relieving yourself of the burden. If only you could see the proud expressions your older brothers sport from afar, while your younger brothers can admire your courage. You’re finally taking a stand so neither of them would face a situation like this.

“You are lying!” Your mother tries to fight back, even if her lips quiver. Never would she think her only daughter could turn out like this. “That’s a sin, young lady.”

“But nothing as worse as greed, mom. One of the seven deadly sins, like you once taught me.” You smirk.

“Do not dare talk back to your mother!” Your father joins the heated scene. “What happened to you, (Y/N)? How did you turn out like this?”

You laugh, placing a hand on your chest to hold yourself back. “Your sheltered, devious way of parenting me and my brothers led me here. So much for saying we’re a self-proclaimed “God-centered” family when we are far from th--”

Your outburst is dramatically cut off with a stinging slap from your mother. Your legs give out from the impact as your butt lands flat on the marble. The crowd is in a disarray from the sudden commotion, full from all this information. Information that’ll give every journalist and gossip meals for months.

Meanwhile, all your brothers race to your aid. This has gone too far.

“You’re no longer my daughter, but the daughter of Satan himself.” Your mother rages while your palm covers your reddening cheek. You can only yourself back because physical violence shouldn’t be responded with the same thing. And being Satan’s daughter? So be it. It’s better than being the offspring of your parents.

“If not Doyoung, us, or your brothers, who would ever love and accept your lost, pitiful soul?”

“I would.”

A deep voice sends shivers to your figure. Almost like he’s enraged, you swivel your head to the source like everyone else.

It was none other than the silhouette from earlier, emerging from the darkness of the aisle. Except now, he was no regular silhouette. It embodies more sharpness and tidiness, like prestige and power exalts his bones. Almost like a complete redo.

Speaking of which, what your eyes laid upon prior wasn’t a hallucination. The more light from the church and the sun combined shines through, you managed to piece their appearance.

And how stupid you feel not to have pointed it out. The voice alone should’ve knocked some sense of you, because it was none other than--

“Jaehyun.”

The mentioned man continues to strut out, gradually exposing and making himself known to everyone present today. And it’s without a doubt that the gossip from this event alone can feed a whole country, especially with your father seething from his stance.

“Why is there a Jeong in this immaculate event?” He blames. “Have you not learned from your probation and dare barge in my daughter’s wedding?”

“What wedding, sir?” Jaehyun smirks sinisterly, slowly approaching your feeble figure. “It’s more like I witnessed physical and verbal assault against your daughter. In fact, everyone did. Including the Lord himself.”

“I oughtta-” Your father prepares his fist to meet Jaehyun’s face, if not Taeyong’s swift hand catching it.

“Not today, father. And never.” He throws a death glare at his predecessor.

Simultaneously, Jaehyun’s hands reach out for yours. You wobble for a bit when you get up, but you find your balance. His rage and frustration soften into concern at your overwhelmed state, lifting the veil over your head to cradle your weary face.

“Are you okay, my love?” His palm soothes your aching cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you on time.”

“You--” You start to choke on your words. “You’re here. You came back for me.”

“Of course, I did.” He grins genuinely. “I should’ve never left you like that back then. Not when we needed each other the most.”

Before proper words can leave your scattered mind, your father screams like he witnessed a bloody murder.

“What is the meaning of this?! There’s no way this is the man you love, (Y/N)!” He screams, while your mother faints at the sight.

“Surprise, father.” You smile with mischief. “I fell in love with the so-called enemy, and I shall spend the rest of life eternally with him.”

“I object this union!”

“I don’t fucking care.” You curse without remorse. Sparing a loving glance at your man after, “Fuck you, mother, and everything else in this feud. I am done.”

Angrily, your father nearly charges in front of you and Jaehyun. But you’re spared in a flash if not for Taeyong and Mark pulling him back. Jeno and Haechan, on the other hand, hold on to her before she loses her consciousness again. And also avoid her from hurting you.

Ten calls out both your names from the side. Suddenly, a pair of car keys are thrown at your direction. Jaehyun catches them instantly.

“Save your sweet yet vengeful reunion someplace else and run! Now!”

You’ve completely forgotten how public this wedding was as every person spectate how you take hold of Jaehyun’s hand, leading you to a more private exit of the church. Taking the main doors will spark a frenzy by the paparazzi, and that’s the last thing you need on your agenda.

Now in the parking lot in the back, Jaehyun’s fingers from his free hand click the buttons of Ten’s car keys, One of the cars activates in perfect condition, lights flicking and beeping sonorously. And thank God, it’s right in front of you.

“Motherfucker, it’s a Ferrari.” Jaehyun marvels.

“Jaehyun, we gotta go!” You rush inside the shotgun, conscious of who may find the both of you.

It’s not a surprise that the journalists got ahold of your speeding departure since you have to drive out in front of the church to get away from it. Even if Ten’s windows were tinted so no one can detect who was inside, the guests finally vacated from the building and told their own versions of what unfolded in the supposed Kim-Lee union.

And while the news are brewing and buzzing, you and Jaehyun have absolutely no idea where to drive off to.

“That was insane!” You burst out. The adrenaline rush of it all still raced your veins, while Jaehyun’s attention is firm at the road ahead of him. “I never felt or done anything like this!”

He chuckles as his fingers retract to your hand again, lifting it to kiss the top. “You’ve turned into a bad girl, baby. What are we gonna do about that?”

“Would living a new, happier life for ourselves be the best way to avenge everything they’ve done to us?” You suggest. “I know we’ve been through a lot, but I was no better for letting you walk out like that without a proper fight for our love.”

Jaehyun sighs from the painful memory. “And I understood why you did. I had no right to pressure you into something so drastic when your family has already stressed you out enough.”

“But still!” You acclaim. “You’ve always fought for us, so I should’ve done the same before all of this happened.”

“So, you must truly love me.” Jaehyun attempts to lighten up the mood. Reaching a red light, he tilts his body to face you. Even after being chased down, he remains ever ethereal as beads of sweat rest on his brows and his once-perfectly done hair is crazily tousled.

“If I didn’t, I would’ve never caused a scene especially with God watching us.” You lean a little closer to him, resting both of your hands on his shoulders. If not for the car handle blocking you, you’d be sitting on his lap. “Because He sent you to me as a blessing. Not a curse from the devil, but a blessing who taught me to be brave and never take anyone’s shit.”

“Cursing like this still feels so new to me, baby.” The glimmer in his eyes darken with desire, moving closer to your lips.

“Better get used to it, sweetheart.” Merely inches left, your lips teasingly brush his. “It’s you and me until the end of the time.”

The confidence of your tone was met with the element of surprise when Jaehyun’s lips finally planted on yours. Your sultry yet romantic-filled words put all his senses of haywire, as if you bewitched him with your everlasting charms. Your lips curve into a smile as they part so his tongue can slide in. The taste of his favorite mint candy mellow your nerves down, easing you back to a calmer state of mind.

How you missed his touch.

How you missed his presence.

How you missed him, and everything that goes along with it.

As passionate as your affections are at the moment, it’s only to be interrupted by the loud, irritated honks from the vehicles behind you.

The red light has now turned green.

The two of you can only laugh in embarrassment, like two horny teenagers caught by their headmasters. Yet the youthful energy you both radiate remains. Jaehyun holds your hand again before stepping on the engine, rubbing the sides of your thumb.

“Oh, baby. I’d be more than glad to be sinfully vowed to you.”

5 YEARS LATER.

Jeong Estates and Co. secured the highest rank of top real estate companies within Seoul.

This wouldn’t be made possible if not for Krystal Jeong, second in line at the Jeong family business. One of the Jeong cousins rather. No bitter feelings she felt on getting the job. In fact, she’s more than ecstatic to acclaim the highest position in their clan. As for Sungchan, he just entered law school in high hopes of taking over his mother’s law firm. But only years after taking the bar exam then starting for the bottom up. Often times, he secretly gives his older brother a call on his burner phone or vice versa. No matter what, they are still brothers. Heck, highly urged him to chase after you when he found out the truth behind his older brother’s love for you.

Lee Properties, the real estate company of Lee Corporation, are more focused on expanding their branches across the world. Ranking no longer mattered, as long as the quality of their work constantly. Mark, under the guidance of Taeyong and Ten in the beginning, took over the company. Thanks to the three, they branched out to the US, UK, and Japan. Family-wise, the 5 brothers isolated themselves from their parents since that day. Everything has become business for them. Because they refuse to be associated with people responsible for the almost-downfall of their only sister.

The general feud between families remain unsolved, even after the mayhem of the failed wedding. Although there have been are rumors circulating that the brothers of each family made amends, but nothing has been confirmed. The tension intensified, and no dares to get in their loop.

People who work in media make sure to never put them in the same room for interviews or events. People working in their companies dare not to speak of the enemy company. Anyone who’s within the presence of any family member can only bow their head and pray they don’t get called out.

Most of all, everyone goes silent of the forbidden romance built between their each of their children.

That’s the thing with the Lees and Jeongs: they’re old-money royalty with filthy history. If you get in their way, might as well say goodbye to everything you worked hard for.

That’s how powerful they are.

Yet only two people defied all the odds.

Speaking of them, where do you and Jaehyun stand?

“I’m home!” Jaehyun greets loudly as he opens the door. He drops off his satchel of tools by the doorstep, removing his dirty loafers and switching to house slippers.

“In the kitchen!” You respond. Just in time for dinner, you love how prompt he is.

From behind, warm yet sweaty arms wrap around your waist. He must’ve had a long day, especially when he was gone the moment you woke up. But it’s not much of a worry since you also had a early start that day.

“Smells good here.” Jaehyun’s chin tucks on your shoulder. “What are we having tonight?”

“Homemade ravioli as a gift from Francesca next door,” You continue stirring the aromatic pan. “With tomato sauce made by me.”

“Delicious.” He sniffs. “I missed you.”

You giggle from his short kiss on your cheek. “I missed you too, but you reek off sweat.”

“When am I not?” He teases. “Gotta earn to maintain this roof on top of our heads.”

“Keep that habit up, or someone else here might make me vomit like last time.” Your free hand lowers his hands to the bump of your swelling stomach. Perhaps only now did you believe that there is one when it used to be slightly flatter.

“Speaking of which,” He rubs it gently. “How’s she today? No trouble?”

“Thankfully, no.” You turn the stove off, satisfied with the finished dish. Turning around, your hands situate themselves on your lower back. A new habit since your body has been adjusting to all these new changes. “I’m confident the nausea is subsiding, but now my feet hurt like crazy.”

“My love,” Jaehyun coos, caging you in his arms. “How about I take a quick shower, enjoy this meal you made, then give you a foot massage?”

“Oh yes, that sounds divine.” You hum, pecking his lips. “Now get off me. You seriously stink as fuck.”

So much for your mood swings, Jaehyun chuckles as he makes his way to the bathroom of your master bedroom. You roll your eyes st the playful man while you prepare the dining table. Yet you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Life ever since that crazy day became more peaceful and joyful. Freeing to retake the control you have over your life, whilst sharing it with the man you truly love.

For a couple of months, you and Jaehyun resided in a private cottage somewhere deep in Jeju Island. Only he knew of its existence because he himself built it from the ground up. Formerly in the real estate, he’s always had an interest for architecture. But instead of picking that major in college (because his parents were against it), he studied elsewhere with his own money. It clearly paid off as it gave the two of you the perfect hideaway from all the drama.

And led the most memorable of nights in your shared bedroom, especially you finally confessed your deepest desire of him fully taking your purity away. Sure, virginity is a social construct but you trusted Jaehyun with your life. After everything you’ve been through together, how can you not?

One kiss is all it took before he had you squirming and moaning on his cock, thrusting and hitting your sweet spots. His words of praise in every movement led you one step closer to heave. You see, heaven wasn’t just a place you go to when you die in good spirits. But it can be through a person.

And his name was Jeong Jaehyun.

Physically, your body turned sore the following day. But emotionally, you’re thrilled. He took good care of you like the passionate lover he is, but that’s bare minimum. We shouldn’t celebrate those things, though there’s something unique about it when Jaehyun carrying you to a warm tub and feeding you your favorite homemade meals that very day. To make up for hitting it too hard, he egotistically claims.

But can you blame him?

Exactly.

Later on, the two of you permanently migrated to the countryside area of Italy. Having loved the quiet side of Jeju Island whilst craving a new adventure, Europe took an interest to the both of you. Italy became your top choice if not for having individual traveling experiences there. And how you equally enjoyed its culture and aura.

Thus, you wanted to create more memories together and start anew. And by that, you and him rented an apartment within Tuscany and worked different jobs from your university majors.

From being a business management major, you became an English teacher at the local elementary school. You enjoyed taking care of children, teaching them all new things and encouraging them to be their best selves. There are also times you walk some of them home if their parents cannot fetch them. Holding your hand so they avoid any cars passing by, your heart is full when they obey and tell you all sorts of imaginative tales. You adore their curiosity, and you always make sure to be the best role model you can be.

From majoring in finance, Jaehyun ventured into construction and architecture. He was always hands on, conceptualizing and building all sorts of things for other people’s needs. It’s a plus that he’s always followed an active lifestyle, his muscles making it easier to bring those things to different destinations. The big boss of the business he works for can rely him on him big time, saving money on gas for the moving truck. So it’s no surprises girls attempt to throw themselves at him for his looks and strength. But it’s nothing you worry about.

Because at the end of the day, it’s still you he comes home to you. And makes you come until all the stars of the universe are within your periphery.

With all the money you both earn (and pawning your unnecessary designer items), it eventually becomes enough for two things: building a new house and your wedding.

There’s a piece of land Jaehyun’s boss gifted him as gratitude for expanding his business, which is near one of his beloved vineyards. Since that day, Jaehyun devoted time and effort to build your dream home. With some help with friends he made from work.

It meant sacrificing alone time with him, which did strike an argument or two. But it’s nothing too big you couldn’t resolve. Because you’re both sure that his efforts are going to be worth it.

And how beautiful the final output was. Modern with a rustic feel, there were 3 floors to your entire home. With a patio, there’s also a garden of various flowers and crops you and Jaehyun planted during the construction process. And now, they’re finally coming in full bloom this time around. After that, you can see the various vineyards which trails to the best view of the sunset.

Quite the villa, you two have. It has everyone in town wanting to take a visit whenever they can and how inviting you’d be to all of them for special occasions.

Upon tradition, the whole home was blessed by the priest before you fully moved in. And boy, nothing could hold you back from running through every furnished floor, only to hold and kiss your man for a job well done. But the mood became heated as his hands cup your butt and lifted you up as he lead you to your master bedroom.

Your wedding came shortly after. It was held at a small chapel within Tuscany, with locals you’ve befriended over time, your brothers, and Sungchan.

Yes, they accepted your private invitations and made sure not to disclose this event to anyone back home. Most especially, both of your parents.

You and Jaehyun feared your brothers wouldn’t get along the slightest. Initially, there was tension when you invited them to dinner at your new home. Mark, Haechan, and Ten inspected with Sungchan with suspicion, while the younger boy returns the judgmental loo. Jeno and Taeyong, on the other hand, fell silent as they didn’t want to utter a word at him.

Accepting Jaehyun took a while, so what more with Sungchan? He was outnumbered by your 5 prideful brothers, and based on the tales of your then fiancé, he was a good boy.

“Yah.” It was your sharp voice that cuts the tense air, which was a new experience for everyone. In fact, they’re all getting used to your newfound voice that’ll slice and dice anyone that disrespects you. “If you are all going to act like children, we’ll turn out m like our parents and those before. We’ll never end our feud, and hurt more people we love.”

“Whatever problems you have with each other, sort that shit out right now. Or we can kick you out, where the nearest motel is 4 hours away.”

So yes, you may have threatened them. But it does spark change within both families, especially when Jeno opened up about his interest for the law firm under Lee Corporation. He was in 2nd year of law school that time.

Instead of thinking as competition, Sungchan started up about his life as a freshman because it turns out that they’re studying in same school. Eventually, Mark and Taeyong came around to talk about their hobbies. And as for Haechan and Ten, they were responsible for filling up everyone’s wine glasses until everyone passed out in the living room.

You’re merely lucky how the wedding was still a week and a half away. But mostly, new friendships were made and you’re certain this will cause a major shift in the feud.

And finally, as you and Jaehyun said “I do” and sealed a kiss in front of your loved ones, off to your honeymoon you go. Funded by Taeyong and Ten (which you failed to reject out of embarrassment), you and Jaehyun went to your favorite Italian city: Milan. The both of you spent all the cash they gave to your heart’s content after putting them into your home and wedding, exploring the designer stores and shops of the locals.

With the former, it made you reminisce your younger self. The one who was so naïve to everything while she threw the money from mommy and daddy’s credit cards on bags and clothes. But now, designer items are just items with an esteemed name. Their worth is nothing compared to the culture of the locals back in Tuscany, and the love you continue to grow with Jaehyun.

It’s no wonder that over time, that same love eventually created something magical.

And it came in the form of your unborn child that you fiercely carry. It’s only like yesterday when you and Jaehyun anticipated in your bedroom for the tests you took. This came to be after your period not arriving, the weird food combinations you consume, and your mood swings being out of this world. Or that’s at least what Jaehyun shared, but he can be quite overdramatic at times.

As we return to the present time, you caress your hard tummy that holds so much life. How you feel the smallest flutter of your daughter as she continues to grow or the first time you heard her heart beat in the monitor. It still makes your heart soar when the doctor confirmed the gender of your baby. In a world of boys, another girl just like you made you feel complete. With Jaehyun, he’d have a little girl he can take to all sorts of adventures and dance around with.

Heck, he already made the crib from scratch from his excitement and cleared out one of your guest rooms for the baby. If that doesn’t soften your heart, you didn’t know what will. He’s always had a fondness for kids, especially with your profession. And now, the both of you shall have your own to take care and love.

5 months down, 4 more to go.

You lay on your back on the couch, resting your head by the edge. Your fingers skim through an open book as Jaehyun’s hands work their magic to relieve the constant ache of your feet.

“What matters most are the simple pleasures so abundant that we can all enjoy them...” You read aloud the text of your precious novel. The baby enjoyed being read to, whether it be from your or Jaehyun. Meanwhile, the mentioned man listens along as it is one of his childhood favorites. “Happiness doesn’t lie in the objects we gather around us. To find it, all we need to do is open our ey-”

A strong set of kicks to your gut interrupts your reading, a loud groan leaving your lips. Jaehyun’s alert to help you out, clutching on your stomach as you try to sit upright.

“What happened?” Jaehyun chides. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“She…” Your eyes begin to well up. “She’s kicking for the first time.”

The baby wildly makes her presence known as she remains persistent in her actions. Stunned, your hands find Jaehyun’s and place them on your stomach. This has never happened to either you, and both of you wanted to treasure the moment.

Your husband keeps quiet upon his amazement in feeling his small feet of his baby girl. He smiles, changing his hand positions to find her in your womb. It’s almost like you’re raising 2 kids.

“That tickles, Jae!” You squeal, readjusting your stance. Back pain is becoming a bitch lately.

“Does it hurt?” His hands stay put in one spot near your belly button, where your daughter enjoyed to play around the most.

You give a tight-lipped smile. “Not really, but now it’s a bit bothersome.”

“Oh no…” He says with worry, head leaning near your tummy to speak to your daughter. “Baby, don’t hurt your mommy. She makes sure you’re strong and well, so be nice, okay?”

You gush from his words. Your mind is elated to create future scenarios of their father-daughter bonding, something you wish you had more of when you were younger. But you know your husband, the family guy he’s become. Because you both made an oath to never become your parents, to be better and wiser.

Finally, the kicks weakened and felt your daughter rest on one corner of your tummy. By this time, she’s fallen asleep. And by her actions, it exhausted you as well as her unofficial punching bag. Jaehyun, who was bound to resume his massaging, catches you yawn and stretch your arms out.

“Tired?” He asks, and you nod.

“I think I’ll continue reading the book tomorrow.” You close your beloved copy of the Little Prince, and pull your feet off from your husband’s lap.

“Wait.” He stops you, standing up before you do.

You quirk a brow. “Yes, babe?”

“There’s no way you’re walking up the stairs with sore feet.” Suddenly, he lifts you off the couch as he carries you bridal style. You shriek with shock, but not loud enough to disturb your baby.

“Jaehyun! Put me down!” He shakes his head. “Am I not heavy? I’m carrying your child after all.”

“Nothing will be heavy enough when it comes to you and our baby.” He reassures. “Now, let’s get both of you to bed, hmm?”

Refusing his advances would be an endless fight, so you concede the moment you nuzzle your head on his chest. Fresh laundry, his scent fills your nostrils. You loved the warmth when he’s close to you like this, nearly dozing off when he walks up the stairs. He was your home, and you don’t ever want to leave him.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is enamored by you each passing day. He witnessed all your good and bad times, the latter especially as they eventually led to the better days of your shared life. He didn’t want to admit how afraid he was when you two eloped from everyone, but you’ve always known. He didn’t have to tell you because you put in your own efforts to make him feel at bay. That it’s okay to feel vulnerable, that it’s okay to take risks. Because you were both in this together, that’s in the vows you unofficially said back in Jeju Island and reiterated in your actual wedding.

Another thing Jaehyun loved about you was this endless glow when you’re passionate about your job at the school, stand up for yourself, and express true joy from the small, finer things in life. But there came a unique kind glow you embodied since you told him the news of your pregnancy.

It was a major step in any loving relationship, and if there’s anyone he’d experience it with, he’s blessed that it’s with you. Like he once said when you were younger, you are God’s favorite angel.

When he gently lays you down on your side of the bed, catching how your eyelids effortlessly fell down, he kisses your forehead. “Good night, angel.”

As he rests on the opposite side, your hand finds his chest.

“Jae.”

Surprised, he moves to face your side. Your lids may be droopy, but you had extra strength to carress his cheek with the same hand. Under the moonlight from your balcony doors, he looked effortlessly beautiful. Even with some greying hairs on his nape, wrinkles forming in his forehead, and eyebags darkening from his restless nights, your heart is full of love for him. Whether it’s from your hormones acting up or not, that’s never going to change.

He's a representation of your bravery, and how glad you are to take on the challenge to push for your love.

Because in the end, it all worked out like you both wanted.

“Hmm, baby?” His hand cup yours.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” You place his other hand on your tummy again. “On us.”

“Thank you for fighting for our love, for showing those who doubted us that it has a place in our world.” Jaehyun shares an endearing smile, paving a way for his remarkable dimples. Some things don’t age, like your youthful souls. Ever so daring and adventurous, parenthood doesn’t sound like such a bad idea if it’s two of you embarking on it together.

“Even if it almost earned a punch from my dad?” The once-frightening memory earns a chuckle from both your lips. Little did your younger selves know what they’d face after.

“What can I say? I meant every word I say then, to be put in his place.” He defends. “And you know what else I meant that day?”

“Enlighten me.”

Oh, you can only feel real happiness and gratitude for the man in front of you. He is a man of his word, and proved endlessly with his actions. And he shall continue to do so for the rest of your lives.

“I’d be more than glad to be sinfully vowed to you, (Y/N). Forever and always.”

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