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#it's inspiring my ballad fic too
aho-dapa · 2 years
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Everytime I listen to Tam Lin (Child 39) I instantly grieve what we could have had with feylin 
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vivalabunbun · 2 years
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On the complexities of relationships and words
Summary: For two people that love to read, words seem like a complex. 
Word Count: 13k (yeah... this is slow burn, might want to get a drink and snack)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Fluff, Angst kind heavy?, Modern AU, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, slow fic, marriage, arranged pairing, dubcon, themes about not liking yourself, TW: gender dysphoria (you don’t like your secondary gender), TW: Very vague and brief mentions to possible past domestic trauma, Jealous!alhaitham, slight yandere!alhaitham, mutual pining, miscommunication, breeding, biting, ruts, Alpha!alhaitham, Beta!reader. You agreed to the pairing due to tax benefits. A lot of references to literature. 
Authors note: This is my first attempt at slow burn and yeah... I got carried away. I want to explore how slow alhaitham would open up and how love can come from the mind instead of the heart. Enjoy.
Side Note: here is a little dabble 
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Love, an emotion that sets the heart on fire. An all-consuming emotion that feels as if one was falling off a cliff while also being embraced tight by the treads of fate. The emotion that’s only separated by a thin line from madness. Or at least, that is how it’s been described to you through books and movies. 
With love being the inspiration for so many poets, artists, and heroes throughout all of history, it comes as no surprise that you found yourself curious about it. It started out innocently, you would listen to the latest romantic ballads from the wandering travelers along the streets of Sumeru. In the nation of wisdom, books were plentiful yet you found your teenage self buying certain novels from Inazuma. Then came the films from Fontaine which you’d spend a week’s worth of pocket money on. 
What first began from your childish curiosity became a hidden infatuation. You wanted to feel those emotions described in those songs, books, and movies. So you began your journey to seek it out. Your first relationship filled you with a certain rush, an excitement to finally experience a scene from those novels you loved… but you were only left with disappointment. 
Kisses felt bland, holding hands felt awkward after too long, and eye contact uncomfortable. There were no lingering thoughts that kept you up at night, no pink haze of pinning, nor a spark that set your chest ablaze. The breakup didn’t come as a surprise, and even so, it didn’t leave you with those gut-wrenching heartbroken sobs into the pillow as you’ve seen in the movies. Just disappointment. 
Perhaps it's because you were basing your expectations on relationships you can never experience. Those songs, those books, those movies? They were all about the bond felt between Alphas and Omegas. 
The maddening ruts and needy heat that left your cheeks flushed when you read about them. The touching gestures of scenting, the descriptions of the additive aroma of their beloved, their fated mate. The marking that proclaimed to the world their undying love. You’ll never experience that… since you’ve presented as a Beta. 
The worker ants of society, the largest class sandwiched between Alphas and Omegas, the extras in their movies. The category of society that can neither produce nor reciprocate pheromones, the population that lived in mediocrity in the eyes of romantics. 
Of course, love was possible for Betas, after all in a population that makes up the majority, there will always be the few that find ‘true love’. But that’s an advanced scholarly topic up for debate, with the societal consensus being that it’s the lowest tier of love. All pairings with Betas belonged in this tier. 
Alpha-Alpha, Omega-Omega, and at the very top of the tier list of ‘true love’ was the Alpha-Omega pairing. After all, love scientifically is created by chemical bonds in the brain with oxytocin, the love hormone. Pheromones kicked the production of oxytocin into overdrive, creating an addiction that makes a person long for their lovers every hour of the day. The chemicals that create the fire of romance you once wished upon shooting stars for. 
Thankfully with time, as you matured into an adult you resigned yourself to your fate. You found solstice in your one advantage as a Beta over any Alpha or Omega: True independence. Free from the chains that are primal desires brought on by pheromones, your head was clear, decisions not dependent on the fever that was love. 
You had given up on searching for love, hey, if you set the bar on the ground then there was less risk of being let down. So that’s why you agreed to your parents’ suggestion of an arranged pairing. To be matched to a life partner by a matchmaker.
--
“Eh? Isn’t that practice kinda outdated?” Dehya questioned. 
“Don’t the city folk use the akasha system, using genetics for compatibility or something?” Your Alpha friend carefully tucked away her compact mirror. 
“Actually, I think that’s really romantic! The traditional way matches you by personality and lifestyle compatibility.” Nilou grasped your hands, wishing you luck. 
“I agree, old fashioned doesn’t mean it's ineffective. It’s still very much practiced in Aaru Village.” Candace sent a slight side-eye to your other Alpha friend across the table. 
--
Perhaps your Alpha and Omega friends were trying to cheer you on, but frankly, they didn’t need to. The next day when you met with the older woman, you went through the process with a sense of boredom. When answering the matchmaker's question, you stated you just wanted a life partner that was honest, loyal, and respected your individuality. 
Next, the matchmaker asked about your interests, you recalled all the literature you used to consume during your obsession with love, and embarrassed by your fruitless past endeavors you answered books.  
“What kind of life do you seek, my dear?” Her wrinkly hands intertwined as she leaned on the table. 
“A peaceful, quiet life.” 
And that was it. She wrote down your responses with a bejeweled quill pen, handwriting beautiful and neat as if she were penning down a poem for you. You were free to go home. Walking down the streets of Sumeru, the dusk birds singing to their lovers, you didn’t even wonder about the Beta she was going to pair you with. You had a full day of work tomorrow, what you really wanted was a full night's rest. 
--
So a month later, you couldn’t hide the bewilderment on your face as you stood in front of a tall Alpha, the partner the matchmaker had deemed a good fit. From his piercing teal orange eyes to his sliver hair to his towering physique, everything about him was the picture-perfect definition of an Alpha. 
‘Alhaitham’ was his name, and you must admit it fit him quite well. His face remained unchanged even after his mesmerizing eyes passed over your form quickly. You couldn’t read the lack of expression on his face, was it disinterest? Indifference? Boredom? 
A part of you wanted to take your parents to the side and whisper in their ears that the matchmaker was a quack. Who in their right mind matches an Alpha with a Beta? Before you could do so, the matchmaker lead your parents out of the room, giving the two of you some privacy to get acclimated. A heavy silence hung in the air as your bodies stood a respectable distance apart, deciding to break the silence you first stated the obvious. 
“I’m not an Omega.” 
“I’m aware.” His deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. Even his voice was beautiful. 
“I don’t have any pheromone, meaning I can’t bond.” You glanced up at him. 
“I never listed it as a requirement.” 
His answers only seemed to confuse you further, perhaps he didn’t think this through all the way. Sure, the matchmaker revealed that both of you wanted peaceful lives, liked books, and believed firmly in one’s individuality. But there was a massive sumpter beast in the room as the saying goes. 
“Aren’t you worried about… that time of the year…”  
For the first time, his eyes met yours, you quickly shifted your eyes away. 
“Are you referring to ruts? Medicine has advanced quite a bit, there are now inhibitors that can regulate pheromones and ruts. Not that you would know, of course.” He huffed out. 
You couldn’t stop your eyebrow from twitching in annoyance. Ah, he’s also got that Alpha ego. You were still confused, from the look on your face he quickly deduced it as well. 
“I dislike disruptions to my life. Primal desires are just disruptions. To put it bluntly, you as a Beta don’t release pheromones nor go into bouts of unsuppressed lust. Significantly reducing the risk of interrupting my time. You value individuality and are very independent, you’re very unlikely to bother me with trivial matters. All these factors add up to a peaceful, quiet life. Simple isn’t it?” 
When he laid out all the reasons so clearly on the table, it’s hard to not note the truth, Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. Perhaps that’s why his grandmother enlisted the help of a matchmaker in her will. 
After that day, you took home a folder full of documentation on him. Under the golden light of your desk lamp, you sorted through the information in front of you. He had no criminal record, he owns his own house close to the city, and he held a stable job with a very attractive salary. 
You ponder the decision for about a week, weighing the pros and cons. Marriages in Sumeru are often encouraged with sizable tax deductions, more money in your own pocket. Employees with spouses have an easier time requesting paid time off, more money in your pocket and less work. He lacked any familial attachments, meaning no in-laws to deal with. One extra point for being very easy on the eyes too. 
You ultimately signed your name on the marriage documents at the city hall, right next to his emulate penmanship. Right there under the fluorescent lights of the government office, the two of you recited your vows. The only other people in the room were your parents and the clerk filing the paperwork.
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Within the next few months, you’ve carried the boxes filled with your belongings from your cramped apartment into his spacious house. Your old light novels and romantic collection of poems are now placed on a bookshelf adjacent to his. Bright and artistic covers contrasting against bland academic journals. Of course, there was no honeymoon, no break from your regular work schedules. There was no reason to. 
--
In the first year of your marriage, you viewed him with suspicious eyes. You valued loyalty in a life partner and even though he stated he dislike pheromones and primal urges, he was still an Alpha with such natural responses. Yet, you observed that he came home every day at 5:30 pm on the dot, not a single hair out of place nor a single crease on the collar of his button-downs. 
You found him to be a decent housemate, calm, quiet, and respectful of your space. Chores were divided equally between the two of you, making the shared living space organized and dust free. Of course, he was only human thus he also had some flaws. 
Sometimes your foot would knock against a stack of books he had left on the floor near the numerous bookshelves throughout the house. Or how you noticed your shampoo and conditioner bottles emptying at an alarming rate, does he not know how expensive haircare is? 
Alhaitham deemed you a good fit for a life partner. You weren’t disruptive nor dependent on him in any aspect. You spent your own money responsibly, a diligent person who followed a set work routine without needing any reminders. 
You would alternate responsibilities for dinner, but he found your food more flavorful. You threw together ingredients with no regard for measurements, only going off what felt right, compared to his style of calculating the precise amount a ‘pinch’ was. 
Of course, it’s expected that you’ve got some quirks that made him tsk internally. It was small insignificant things. Like how sometimes he would find strands of your hair left in the shower drain. Or how you often tuck his books back into the nearest shelf, not caring about if the genres matched or not. 
“I commend your artistry. However, a mural made from your hair on the shower wall is unnecessary.” 
“You’ve got shorter hair than me, how are you using double the product?”        
“It’s all due to your perception, I’m not using any more product than you.”
“Oh?~ Then I guess the hair on the wall is all just your perception too.”
When living with another person there will always be bumps that needed to be smoothed out. But overall, life was peaceful and quiet just how the two of you liked it. 
--
Alhaitham was Alhaitham, and you were you. Two independent individuals only connected by paper and law. Perhaps the only couple-like aspect of your relationship was sharing the same bed. Of course, this was done only out of necessity. 
The only other room in the house with a bed was the guest room, even so, there was still an imbalance. The mattress was much smaller and firm when compared to the grand bed in the master bedroom. 
He didn’t snore and neither did you, you didn’t toss and turn in your sleep and neither did he. With two separate blankets, he deemed that sharing a bed with you wouldn’t cause any disturbance to his sleep. You two had more than enough money to afford another bed, but just the thought of rearranging the furniture to accommodate it was too bothersome for the both of you. There was more than enough room on the bed for two bodies to sleep without ever touching. 
No loud passionate fights nor lingering glances and maddening touches. Just the calm lull of normalcy. But you were satisfied. 
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By your second year with him, you’ve gotten acquainted with the nuances in his manner of speech. In particular, his sarcastic quips that you’d return with vivacity. 
“Mmm, I appreciate the attempt. But I’d rather my books be sorted by subject rather than by instinct.” 
“There’s faster ways to collect my life insurance than by getting me to trip over a book, Haitham.” 
During this year, the two of you also began to use more familiar terms to address each other. Instead of your name, he’d simply call you wife, and you shortened his name. Husband and ‘Haitham’ had the same amount of letters anyways. 
When the date of your courthouse wedding came around, nothing happened. 
No flowers, no shiny gifts of jewels, not even a sweet dessert. After all, he found it silly to spend so much effort on a singular day instead of placing that enthusiasm into every regular day of life.
Birthdays shared the same sentiment, you’d be invited out by your group of friends to a celebration planned by Nilou, while Alhaitham would stay at home with his books. 
--
“Happy birthday.” You placed a cup of freshly brewed coffee down in front of him. 
“Thank you.” Besides your statement, there was nothing out of the ordinary. 
“Hopefully I’m one year closer to collecting your pension.” 
  Alhaitham has to admit he does enjoy your sardonic humor, but you’d never be able to tell just by looking at him. He took a sip of his coffee, by year two you finally learned how not to scald the coffee grounds when doing a pour-over.
Life continued on, and the two of you were still like parallel lines traveling in the same direction side by side and separately. 
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It’s now the third year of your marriage. You were currently busy in the kitchen, Alhaitham had just informed you earlier there’d be guests coming over tonight. Fortunately, it’s a Friday which meant you had a half day at work. Quickly purchasing ingredients from street vendors on your way back. 
He never had any guests over before, so you assumed that these guests must be important people from work. 
You even made sure not to use spices that were too fragrant, just in case any of the guests were extremely sensitive to smells, as Alhaitham had informed you they were all Alphas. Tachin was a rather simple but delicious dish to make. You also picked fresh ingredients that would make a very quick and satisfying salad. 
Your husband didn’t particularly like soup, but he doesn’t have the right to be picky when you’re the one rushing to cook enough food for five people, so minty bean soup will be on the table. He had a collection of wines in a separate room, you’ll leave the wine selection up to him. 
Just as you finished setting the plates and dishes on the table the chime of the doorbell went off. Wiping off your hands and taking off your apron, doing a quick once-over in the hallway mirror before answering the door. 
“O-oh… You’re a… Beta…” 
The blond Alpha in front of you had a look of bewilderment across his handsome features. Rudy eyes peering down at you in astonishment as you maintained a polite face. 
“Oof-” 
An elbow was jabbed into the blond’s side as a shorter dark-haired man signaled for him to shut up. 
“Thank you for having us over for dinner.” His friendly face gave you a smile. 
“Welcome.” You invited all the men in. 
  The bewildered blond at the door’s name was Kaveh, the dark-haired man was Tighnari, and the white-haired man with the intense gaze was Cyno. 
You familiarized yourself with their names, and from time to time you felt their eyes passing glances over at you as they made small talk. Alhaitham was currently picking out a few bottles of wine. 
“So, you’re actually his wife… Ah! Of course, it’s no fault of yours. I’m just shocked he’s actually married, I thought he was bluffing when he said he had a wife. There were no signs… Ugh! Great, I owe drinks now.” Kaveh sighed, face in his hands. 
“Alhaitham doesn’t want others knowing too much about him. But the proof is right in front of our eyes.” Cyno leaned his elbows on the table. 
Ah, it makes sense that people at his work wouldn’t know about you. There weren’t even rings to distinguish the relationship. Usually, relationships nowadays were sensed through the presence of pheromones on the bodies of lovers. However, you were a Beta with no pheromones to cling onto his person. There’s not the slightest chance he ever talked about you. The two of you were also never seen in public together, so in the eyes of many Alhaitham is still a bachelor. There was a slight churn in your stomach, was the soup upsetting it?
“Gossiping about me while sitting in my house and right in front of my wife?” 
Alhaitham’s deep voice mysteriously made the knot in your stomach go away, or maybe it was the way he referred to you, ‘my wife’. He placed the bottles of wine and glasses on the table. 
“It’s nothing major. We’re just surprised someone is willing enough to stand your arrogance.” Kaveh crossed his arms. 
“Unwed people should not have any comments on other’s relationships.” 
“Hey! Why you-”
“Huh…” You pondered out loud. 
The attention of the men in the room was all on you now. 
“Oh, pardon my interruption. I guess I’m just in awe that my husband has friends.” 
In an instant laughter ripped through the air. 
“Bwahahaha! Alhaitham, I like your wife already! Ahahaha!” Kaveh was laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes. 
Tighnari had one hand gripping the table and the other covering his mouth as he tried desperately to suppress his snickers, ultimately unsuccessfully.  
“Well, I’m not sure if friends is the ‘correct’ term.” Cyno’s voice was steady, but you could see the small shakes of his shoulders. 
“I’m beginning to wonder if inviting guests to the house was the right decision.” 
--
Still, the dinner continued and the drinks started to pour. After your statement from earlier, the atmosphere at the table became more lighthearted aided by the help of alcohol. 
“So, what’s the occasion?” You asked as you took a sip out of your glass. 
“Huh? Alhaitham! How did you not tell your wife about your promotion?” Kaveh nearly spat out his wine. 
 “There’s no reason to dampen her mood with bad tidings.” 
“Bad?!-” You wondered if the blond’s voice could shatter the glass in your hands. 
“Keeping your cards close to your chest, even from your wife.” Cyno side-eyed your husband. 
“Not at all. Not that the unwed head lawyer would need to know.” 
“Tsk.” The tan Alpha crossed his arms. 
“Now, now just because he didn’t tell his wife doesn’t mean Alhaitham’s a bad husband.” Tighnari tried to dispel the tension while also landing a subtle jab. 
“Mmm, congratulations, Haitham.” You swirled your wine. 
“Thank you.” Your husband replied. 
The three Alphas looked at each other, eyes sending silent messages. They must find your marriage to the ashen-hair Alpha strange. Alpha-Beta pairings were already against convention, but it seems like the two of you matched each other's pace. Two weird people found each other. 
--
After dinner was finished and you bid goodbye to the guests at the front door. 
“Be grateful you stone-faced brat… Your wife’s got... too good to be stuck with your stale…” 
The two shorter men carrying the blabbering blond off your front steps. 
“He’s quite the lightweight.” You briefly mentioned while over the sink.
 “I’m just grateful there’s still wine left. Go rest, I’ll get the dishes.” His larger frame takes up the space at the sink, silently encouraging you to move away. 
So you left clean-up duty to him, a fair trade for making you cook a feast so out of the blue. As you stood under the warm water pouring over your body in the shower, your mind began to replay the conversations over dinner. They made you realize just how little you actually knew about your own husband despite living under the same roof for three going on four years now. 
Once he stepped foot outside of your shared space he was practically a stranger. What was his job like? Who were his friends? What were his favorite places? Hell, even in your house, he was still a stranger. What books is he reading now? When does he find time to work out? What does he do when you leave the house? This realization made you shiver, as you turned the knob to increase the temperature of the water.
 It wouldn’t hurt to try and get to know him a little better. 
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One Sunday morning, you walked into the living room greeted by the sight of him reading one of your old light novels. Seeing his large hand hold the bright book, decorated with a pair of lovers embracing, while his eyes studied the text like his academic papers was almost comical… If only you didn’t wish to sink through the floor in humiliation. He must’ve lost interest in his own books, or maybe he’d gone through his whole collection. 
Either way, to prevent such an occurrence from happening again, you began to pick up some books for your husband on your way home. 
‘Metaphysics’, ‘Epistemology’, ‘Quantum Mechanics’: those seemed like topics that’d interest him, you reasoned as you stood in line to purchase them. Your eyes caught sight of a certain book, ‘le rouge et le noir’, on a whim you decided to add it to the stack of heavy books. Not for your husband, but rather for yourself. 
That night you handed the books over to him as he was about to go to his favorite reading spot on the couch. 
“What’s this for?” He stared at the stack of thick books in your hands. 
“Just passed by a bookstore and figured you might need something new to read.” You gestured for him to take them. 
“You didn’t have to go out of your way to gift this to me. Thank you, I shall read them.” His low voice indifferent as always, finally taking the weight out of your hands. 
You proceeded to move over to the smaller sofa in the living room and plopped down. Pulling out the book you had purchased earlier, you glanced up at him eyes questioning why he was staring. Alhaitham cracked open one of the academic journals you gifted him and averted his teal gaze. 
This was a break from your normal routine, but you felt like it’d be a nice change to get back into reading. It also gives you the opportunity to learn more about Alhaitham by spending more time in his presence. But more importantly, it would allow you to keep an eye on your husband to ensure he doesn’t go snooping through your bookshelf again. Maybe you should just donate them, but no library in Sumeru would ever accept them.
Soon that break from routine became the norm. Every night after the kitchen table was cleared, dishes cleaned, and bodies freshly towel dried you and Alhaitham will sit adjacent to each other enjoying quiet reading time. The soft light from the tall floor lamps and soft flicks of turning pages adding to the ambiance of the room. 
From time to time, you can hear the sound of him writing some sentences down on a notepad. So he likes to take notes on the books he reads. You learned something new. 
Another new fact you gained from your observations of your husband was that he reads fast, really fast. He had already finished all three books before you were even halfway done with yours. You had to act fast lest his teal eyes begin to wander towards your bookshelf again. So, you found yourself back at the bookstore once more. Picking up any thick academic journals on topics ranging from ancient ruins to the newest peer-reviewed breakthroughs.
Maybe you should also pick up some notepads and sticky notes, you saw how thin the pad had gotten last night. It just so happened that the romance section was right by the shelves of stationeries. The book from Fontaine you had bought on a whim was in your opinion more psychological than romantic. However, the romantic elements present seems to have reignited your interest in the romance genre. 
Oh well, you were grown enough now to not be so easily swooned by poetic descriptions of love. You picked the first book whose description piqued your interest and added it to the basket. 
One of the first lessons taught to the children of Sumeru was to be cautious when putting out campfires. If not killed correctly, the unseen smoke can make fallen leaves catch fire. A small flame grows into a hellish blaze that consumes whole acres of forest. 
--
   “Thank you very much. Again, this isn’t necessary.” Alhaitham still took the books out of your hands. 
The small notepad on top of the stack caught his attention, his teal eyes looked into yours with a questioning glance. 
“Your notepad’s running out, and there was a sale.” 
“I see.” 
From time to time during your quiet reading session, you would glance up, a part of you hoping to see Alhaitham use the new stationery you’ve just bought him. A frown tugged at your lips when you saw he had set it to the side in favor of his old, thinning notepad. Maybe the color isn’t to his liking. 
You continue to buy stationeries for him. Any fancy notepads or post-its that caught your eye at a store, every time you give them to him, he would thank you. Then proceed to never use them. Perhaps, the ones you got were too fancy? He seemed to like simple and practical items. Next time you got plainer ones, just simple squares of plain paper, he still left them untouched. 
Maybe, you needed to find higher-quality ones. But if he didn’t like them then why does he keep accepting them? Should you try your luck with pens instead, he does go through quite a few. Ah, the sentiment from the very first time you met him still rang true to this day. Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. 
He was an enigma to you. 
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You were an enigma to him. 
Alhaitham wasn’t sure when it started, but his mind grew curious about you. Perhaps it’s because he read through his collection of books, or maybe because things at work have been dull lately. Thus, he deduced it was only logical that you started to pique this interest in a bored mind. You lived in the same house and slept in the same bed. With you constantly being in close proximity, of course, he will want to learn more about you after more than three years together. 
One of the best ways to start studying you would be to start with your bookshelf. Alhaitham vaguely remembers you saying that you were interested in books, yet in all these years in the same space he hasn’t ever seen you touch your own shelf. What a pity, he could’ve used the extra space for his own books. Running a finger along the row of books, stopping on a random one he made his decision. 
--
Your taste in literature is, how should he put it, very different from his own preferences. The descriptions of the actions taken by the Alpha main character and his Omega lover were idiotic, to say the least. The lengthy declarations of the love and affection they held for each other, and the sentences riddled with exaggerations and rhetoric. The romance between the characters was the priority of the novel, thus the plot suffered greatly from it. 
In his opinion, the book was a mess. Yet, he didn’t once feel as if he had wasted his time. Alhaitham discovered a new side to you, is this the type of novel that interests you even as a Beta? The soft taps of your feet suddenly paused as it rounded the corner into the living room. Alhaitham looked up to see a tense look on your face as you stared at the novel currently in his hands. 
No words were exchanged between the two of you as you continued to stare, looking at the book then back at him. It was only for a minute at most, yet it felt a lot longer before you turned on your heels without so much as a word. It was brief, but Alhaitham thinks he saw the tips of your ears flush. Oh, did he stumble upon a guilty pleasure of yours? 
His actions must have been the cause of this deviation from routine, Alhaitham concluded while staring at the stack of books presented to him. Even on birthdays and holidays, gifts weren’t regularly exchanged between the two of you, so this was certainly a surprise. You were looking at him with eyes urging him to take the heavy books from your hands. He couldn’t refuse the offer. 
What came next was even more of a surprise, you sat on the usually empty sofa and pulled out a book of your own. The cover was different from the ones lining your bookshelf, the colors were much simpler, he also notes that the book comes from Fontaine. You were quiet and focused on your own novel, it didn’t cause any disruptions to his sacred reading time so he didn’t say anything about it. 
Soon your curled form on the sofa became a regular sight to see. Every now and then you’d readjust your position, trying to find a comfortable way to hold your book while also relaxing. Alhaitham subconsciously scribbles down brief notes on the book he holds in his other hand. Yet this time when he looked down, he had recorded this small detail about you on the paper. He felt your eyes glancing over as he swiftly crossed out what he had just written. 
A few days later you gifted him more books along with a new notepad. Now there's an unequal exchange happening. You have now gifted him many items, and he has yet to give you anything in return besides a simple ‘thanks’. What should he give you? Alhaitham pondered the question for a bit. 
He realizes that he doesn’t have a firm grasp on your likes and dislikes. Should he try books? No, he’s not familiar enough with your taste in literature to confidently gift a book you’d enjoy. If there was something that you liked, you’d just buy it right then and there with no hesitation with your own money. He thought about it a bit longer. 
When you came home from a particularly tiring day of work you’d often have a small take-out bag in your hands. The frown on your face would melt away the moment you pulled the padisarah pudding from the bag. Alhaitham opened his eyes, he has found the gift to give you. But from which cafe did you get that dessert? 
--
“Oh?” You looked at the padisarah pudding currently on the kitchen table. 
“It’s for you.” Alhaitham didn’t look up from his book. 
“Thank you. Actually, I have something for you as well.” You began to dig through your bag. 
Alhaitham glanced up to see you present him a new notepad and a stack of stick notes, the green paper embossed with gold detailing. He hasn’t even touched the first notepad you had gifted with a pen, and here you were giving him another. Now the current gift balance is even more off. 
You took your first spoonful of the pudding, his teal eyes secretly peeking at your expression as you processed the flavor. You furrowed your brow slightly holding the spoon in your mouth, then shrugged your shoulder as you took another bite. Your face didn’t light up like when you ate the ones you bought. 
Tsk, this means Alhaitham bought it from the wrong store. He knows he could simply just ask you which place made your favorite pudding. However, he finds the opportunity for experimentation in front of him more interesting. He wonders what faces you’ll give for each variation of the dessert. 
He gained more knowledge about you, you have a sweet tooth. He already guessed from your fondness for a certain dessert, but those were a treat for once in a while. You liked fruits, often snacking on them when you were bored on your phone, or as a late-night snack when reading. 
“Mmmh.” You looked down at the zaytun peach in your hand. 
“Is something the matter?” He asked, placing his cup of coffee down. 
“Which vendor did you get this peach from?” You looked over at him. 
“Why? Is there something wrong with the quality?”
“No, I like it. It’s got the right amount of firmness and sweetness.” You took another bite. 
Alhaitham made sure to only get zaytun peaches from that specific vendor. 
--
Currently, the head secretary was facing a small dilemma. On his desk he has amassed quite a collection of stationeries. All in part thanks to you, he took some of the notepads and sticky notes to his office, your gifting habits slowed when it looked like he was using them. The ashen-haired man could not pinpoint where this sudden obsession of giving him stationeries came from. 
Although, he has to admit it is quite amusing to watch the expression on your face as you watched his every time you handed over a new office item. It reminds him of a cat presenting its owner with shiny objects it had found, waiting for its human to react. But the current gift exchange ratio is still off. 
  His teal eyes scanned the report that had been placed on his desk earlier in the morning, there were a lot of important details between the lines on the pages. He should list down the details on a note before passing it on to the CEO. A hand reached towards the pile of post-its on his desk, courtesy of you, before it stopped. 
‘It would be too much of a waste to use good quality paper for such a tedious task.’ He reasons as he used one of the subpar post-its provided by the office. 
Dropping the report off at the CEO’s desk before he headed out for his lunch break. Walking to his favorite cafe, a familiar flash of color caught his eyes, a florist was selling potted pardisarahs. You did always seem to admire the colorful flowers that decorated the top of the dessert. 
He stood there on the street contemplating the plant. Padisarahs are fickle flowers, needing a specific blend of soil and precisely measured amounts of water. Too much sun and the fragile petals will burn, too little and the vibrancy of its leaves fade. He concluded that he didn’t want to bestow such a hassle on you. 
Returning from his lunch break to his office, Alhaitham was greeted by a great violation of his personal space. Covering his desk were stacks of new proposals and applications, those weren’t out of the ordinary. But the colorful squares plastered all over each new proposal were:
Please approve these proposals secretary Alhaitham! They are very important! ASAP
Here are the calculations of the research funds for next year, take a look at them - T
Alhaitham you better approve my application this time, the project is already delayed and I filed this paperwork twice! If you have any respect for your senior then approve this as soon as possible! - K
Head secretary, these are the new amendments to company policies. The legal team is awaiting your approval before we proceed with the implementation. - C
 They used the stationeries that you had gifted him to write nonsense. They had the gall to ask him for favors after they touched his desk without permission and wasted such pretty paper. 
Every proposals on his desk got thrown in the trash without so much as a glance. Nothing got approved, next time they should carefully consult his listed work hours outside the office. 
He didn’t think he’d have to make a sign that said ‘do not touch the items on my desk’ to a workplace of grown adults, but he was very much contemplating it now.  
Later that night, his annoyance from earlier in the day melted away once he cracked open the new book gifted to him. Your form comfortably wrapped in a light quilt as you cradled yours. The minutes turned into hours, the silence comfortable like the heat from a fireplace. A soft snap echoed through the room, your hand moving towards your face from the corner of his eye.
“Is something the matter?”
“Mm? Oh, no. The ending was just sad.” You wiped a tear from your other eye.
He learned something new about himself today, he didn’t like seeing you cry. 
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You really should’ve known better. Like Icarus, you’ve flown too close to the sun. The glue binding the wings of maturity and sanity you’ve crafted started to melt and fall apart, causing you to plunge down. Falling back into the obsession of ‘love’. What started as just one book, turned into two, turned into four. Now your once sparsely populated shelves were crowded with new romance titles of all sorts. 
--
 “You’re rather late today.” Alhaitham’s voice made you freeze in place. 
Why did the living room have to be so close to the front door, maybe you should’ve snuck back in through the back door. Sneaking back into your own house, did you revert back to a teenager while in your fourth year of marriage? 
“Sorry ‘bout that, I got caught up with friends.” 
That was a blatant lie, your poor friends were dragged into your mess all because you couldn’t be honest. You weren’t in their company, no, you were in the theaters watching a film alone. But how could you ever admit to him that as the Alpha and Omega lovers danced on the screen, you pictured your faces over theirs? 
Alhaitham acknowledged your explanation with a small hum, never looking up from his book. Good, because you were certain if he did, he would’ve seen right through your lie. 
Was your handsome husband the spark that rekindled your obsession? Or was it the stories you’ve been consuming that made your heart thump harder in his presence? 
You weren’t sure which was which, but you couldn’t deny the truth you’ve buried. You were in love with Alhaitham. It was an undeniable fact. From the beginning, you’ve always liked him. His quiet demeanor, his baritone voice, and his teal-orange eyes. But now you were in love with them, every aspect of him. You hated how helpless it made you feel. 
But you secretly liked how good it felt. After years of dormancy, you finally felt it, the rush described to you in those stories. That can’t sleep love, that delicious burn of pining, the itch in your chest as you laid in bed next to him. Two quilts defining the unseen boundaries of personal space, you longed to creep over it but you lacked the courage. 
What does he smell like? The same shower and laundry products were shared between the two of you. But that is not what you meant. What did his pheromones smell like? Was it a cool fresh scent, cool like the minty streaks hidden through his ashen hair? Or was it deep and woodsy? Maybe he smells like the pages of an old library book. 
You used to pity your Omega classmates, for you knew the stigma and inconveniences they will face in their lives. However, right now you envied them to the point of nausea. They knew what Alhaitham’s scent was, but you don’t. Why did you have to be a Beta? 
The demon known as insecurity you thought you’ve left behind was actually lurking in your shadow the whole time. 
Maybe you should check yourself into the Bimarstan, the fever of love feels as if it’s melting your brain. His gaze felt piercing now, his accidental skinships seared your skin. You had no one to blame but yourself, Alhaitham is not at fault, you were the one who fell into the fire as he sat in his place on the couch unaware. Even after four years you still couldn’t be honest with your own husband.
Feelings were never discussed because he believed you had a mutual understanding that this was for convenience. 
You can’t tell him you wanted more. How can you tell him you wanted more? There’s already a wall four years in the making, too great to overcome.   
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‘I need to rein myself in’ Alhaitham thought as his eyes followed your figure through the crowd below. It was a slow Friday at work so he decided to walk away from his desk, arriving at an overpass that looked over the streets of Sumeru. Something compelled him to look below, and under the golden sun there you were, and by your side was another Alpha. 
Dehya is her name, a good friend of yours that you introduced once before leaving for a birthday celebration. A good friend who had the privilege to ruffle your hair and loop an arm around your shoulders as she ushers you into one of the many stalls filled with glittering trinkets. 
His hand tightened its grip on the railing, why did she have privileges he was denied? Alhaitham felt he was stalking his own wife. Idiotic really. 
Skinship was not commonplace between you, an unseen glass wall defining the boundaries of your personal space. Whenever his skin met yours, you’d flinch and pull away as if you were burned. He always just apologize and the two of you would move on without another word. Hell, even if his eyes lingered on you for too long you’d tense up. 
It’s been happening more often now, is it because his eyes started wandering more towards your figure or how his hand itched to hold yours?  
Were you scarred by a past relationship? Were your flinches the remnants of a darker period in your life before him? His jaw clenched. By pulling a few strings he had pulled up more files of your past, to satisfy his mind’s hungry, but there was nothing. It only made his curiosity hunger more, or was it something else? Alhaitham wanted answers to why you hated his touches and stares, yet wanted to be in his presence and give him gifts. 
There was only one conclusion he could come up with: you liked your personal space. And he will respect it, but why did your friends not have to?
There was now a knot in his stomach as if a beast was clawing at it, maybe he should call off work and head to the Bimarstan. He disappeared from the overpass. 
“Haitham.” He heard your soft pounds on the door. 
“Leave some hot water for me.” He could envision the pout on your lips, and that’s what brought him over the edge. 
Watching with shameless eyes as the evidence of his guilt washed down the shower drain, running water masking his pants. 
If he can’t touch you, that doesn’t mean he can’t think about you; words spoken like a true creep he silently chastised. Alhaitham doesn’t care to admit how long he’s been doing this, perhaps his primal urges weren’t as controlled as he believed. 
It’s strange really, you’re a Beta yet you make him have these urges.
You don’t produce any pheromones to cling onto his body. But by using the same shower products as you, it serves the same purpose of scenting no? A foolish voice Alhaitham pushed from the back of his mind, taking another pump of your body wash. Maybe he should check the dosage of his inhibitors. 
The only opportunity he got to observe you closely was when you were asleep. ‘You’re quite the heavy sleeper’, he notes as his eyes traced over the subtle curves of your cheeks, the contours of your nose, and the softness of your lips. 
It’s accepted wisdom that Omegas were the most beautiful people. The top A-list singers and actors being Omegas only solidified the belief. However, Alhaitham’s confident your existence could challenge that very notion. 
If it weren’t for your distinct lack of a scent, any Alpha could’ve mistaken you for an Omega. Even his guests were taken aback by how your appearance didn’t match your status as a Beta. 
There was a pang in his chest. If he felt those urges when looking at you, then it’s guaranteed that others, specifically other Alphas, have felt it as well. But why? He trusted you to stay true to your convictions of loyalty and integrity… He wasn’t so sure about others though. Even with the inhibitors coursing through his system, he couldn’t seem to push down that annoying hand clawing at his back. 
You stirred, huddling into your blanket more, snapping his attention back. ‘Oh, you must be cold again’. The houses in Sumeru were designed to keep hot air out, so when a northern cold front blew in, you definitely felt it. 
Quietly getting up, Alhaitham pulled the spare quilt out of the closet, gently layering it over your curled form. The knit between your brows disappeared as a pleased expression overtook your face. Were you having a pleasant dream? Was he ever included? Subconsciously his hand began to reach for your face, only to freeze. 
‘Personal space’ he reminds himself as he strolls out of the bedroom. 
It makes no sense to him, you’re a Beta. In fact, the reason why he married you in the first place was because he believed your lack of pheromones and lack of heats won’t disrupt his peaceful life. The matchmaker had called him her biggest challenge, persevering only because of a promise made to his late grandma. 
So, how were you still corrupting his thoughts like this? 
He should read to calm his mind before he attempts to join you back in bed. Thoughts running laps in his head, analyzing then overanalyzing every last explanation he could come up with. 
Alhaitham’s greedy hands made their way over to your bookshelf, perhaps he could sedate a bit of his curiosity as well. Pulling the Fontainian novel that marked the start of a tradition. 
Under the golden glow of a lamp he flipped through the pages, it seems that your taste in literature has matured. Teal eyes skimming past a paragraph before going back to do a double take. 
‘Love born in the brain is more spirited, doubtless, than true love, but it has only flashes of enthusiasm; it knows itself too well, it criticizes itself incessantly; so far from banishing thought, it is itself reared only upon a structure of thought.’
He reached an epiphany. 
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It looks like you’ve been careless recently. Too distracted by the task of masking your infatuation of your husband from your husband, and maintaining your independent mask to realize that Alhaitham had once again finished all his books. 
The novel right in front of you, moved from its place on your shelf, was proof of that. 
‘It’s a good book’
Your husband’s neat handwriting was present on the small mint post-it plastered on the front cover. It was a simple gesture yet it made your heart flutter as if you had won the achievement of a lifetime. You finally got Alhaitham to use one of the many stationeries gifted to him. 
Carefully peeling the paper off the cover, then folding it to tuck it away in your pocket. 
“At least it’s not another light novel this time.” You affirmed, sticking the book back into its spot. 
--
“The mahamatra have announced a total recall of the inhibitors distributed during the past three months, with reports-”
You were lost in your own little world, contemplating just which books haven’t you bought for your husband yet. Tuning out the sounds of the bookstore playlist and TV as your eyes scanned the titles of the thick books in front of you. 
Would he like Sci-Fi? Sure it’s not academic but maybe it’ll have nuggets of information in there that’d catch his interest. 
--
The weight of the books made your bag strap dig into your shoulder, seeing the house in the distance, you picked up your pace for the home stretch. Tomorrow marks the start of a four-day public holiday, and after the crunch time your boss put you through to tie up loose ends. You needed it. 
Turning the keys in the knob you entered your peaceful little safe haven. 
Only to immediately feel the heaviness in the air. 
Your husband should be home by now, yet the spot on the couch remained empty. His shoes were placed at the door, albeit messily. Kicking off yours as you placed the bag on the coffee table, you navigated your way through the halls. 
The atmosphere was quiet, but not the comforting silence you’ve experienced for the last five years. 
“Haitham?” You called out, about to turn the corner into the master bedroom. 
His black button-down and slacks were thrown all over the floor, a large lump was currently huddled under your blankets on your side of the bed. ‘Oh, he must be napping’. 
Two years in, Alhaitham slept shirtless again like he did before you came. Never before were you grateful that your job made you get up at ungodly 8 am, but having an extra 30 minutes to look at his godly body as he slept made mornings bearable. 
Still, the air didn’t feel right and even if he was messy sometimes, your husband never just threw his clothes on the ground when the laundry basket was right in the corner. His breathing also seemed labored. 
“Haitham, are you sick?” Reaching a hand into the cocoon of blankets, feeling for his temperature. 
A sharp inhale was heard as his breathing stilled, his skin was burning. You moved onto a different patch of skin to confirm it. He must have a fever. 
“You’re burning! I’ll get medicine and water, don’t move.” Your hand quickly retracted. 
Just as your back was turned towards him, like a monster from beneath the blankets a pair of arms entrapped you.
“H-haitham?” His touch was searing you. 
“W-woah?!” 
In an instant, you were pinned under Alhaitham’s towering form, the soft sheets cushioning your body. The place where he once curled was twisted and balmy. Your eyes shoot up at him as he hovered above, your body stiffened. A scarlet haze offset the brilliant teal hue you’ve grown so infatuated with, a sense of impending danger ran down your neck. 
He doesn’t have a fever, he’s in a rut. 
Your thoughts were running wild, bouncing around in your skull as his labored breathing above continued. In all five years, you’ve never seen Alhaitham go into a rut, he was always diligent with his inhibitors. You’ve never been around an Alpha in rut, after all, you were never the one to trigger it. 
It’s embarrassing really, you had no idea what to do, all your experience with ruts came from those steamy light novels. 
“H-haitham, let me up, I’ll get your inhibitors...” You tried to tug your wrists from his grasp. 
Big mistake. His grip tightened as he buried his face into the side of your neck, a low rumble was felt from his chest. Alhaitham had his nose right up against your neck, taking deep inhales as if he was trying to detect something. 
You shivered as your body temperature shot up, you’ve never been this close to him, the brushes of his ashen locks against your neck made your legs rub together. 
“Hey…” You moved your neck away, the sensation was almost overwhelming. 
“Stay still.” A baritone voice vibrated against you. 
On command your body stilled, muscles refusing to move as Alhaitham continued his search. His breath was against your ear, tickling it as he took deep inhales of your hair. A low groan was heard as if he was frustrated with something.  
“Not enough.” 
“Huh?-” 
The sound your blouse getting torn off your body resonated through the air. Even will a layer of clothing gone, your body felt hotter. Just as you began to process the loss of your favorite blouse, another rip rang in your ears. Your skirt was now gone as well. You were so vulnerable under his touches. 
Dragging his nose down from your neck, over your covered breasts, then along your belly. His hands now gripped your thighs as he shifts down to part them effortlessly, eyes focused on your covered cunt. 
Your mind was groggy, reactions dulled, why was the room so hot? Suddenly you felt his nose against your cunt, taking long whiffs of the slick that was beginning to wet the fabric of your panties. That was enough to spark action from you. 
“H-hey!” Your hands pushed against his messy locks as your thighs tried to preserve your dignity.  
“Ah!” You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth. 
In protest of your attempt to shut him out of heaven, Alhaitham bit into the soft flesh of your thigh. Hazy eyes looking straight into yours, warning you to not do it again. His intense gaze made something deep in your cunt pulse. 
Sharp teeth released soft skin as his attention was back on the honeypot in front of him. Your panties offered as much resistance as wet paper against his swift tug, the fabric now on the floor in pieces. 
Your cunt twitched with each hot breath that hit against its wet lips. With the thin barrier gone, Alhaitham can now freely bury his nose against your honeypot, tingles ran up his spine as the sweet musk of your slick sent his olfactory system into chaos. His throat felt parched as if he had just trekked the desert, he needed a taste. 
“Ah! Ahhh,” your back arched as his hot tongue lapped against your cunt. 
Alhaitham was slurping up your slick like a depraved beast, wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit, occasionally dipping into the contracting hole. Your whole body shook when the smoothness of his tongue ran across your clit, toes curling in the air.
 The shower head couldn’t bring out this level of pleasure. The fantasies you envisioned during your long showers couldn’t compare to the scene happening right now. His ministration continued, each stroke of his tongue sending blinding waves of pleasure. 
His hips were angrily rutting against the sheets, erection rubbing against the fabric impatiently. But he had to taste you more, his mind hazy as it craved nothing more than your taste. It was his first taste, but he was already addicted. Your legs tensed up in his grip as a loud whine left your lips, your body shaking as a sudden rush of slick was welcomed onto his awaiting tongue. 
Your sensitive body tried to flinch away as he continued to lap against your swollen lips and clit but his iron grip on your legs didn’t let you budge an inch. Eyes rolled back as the sweet torture continued. 
Your body convulsed, did you just cum again? Two orgasms sapped you of all strength, everything fell limp as your moans continued to fill the room. Your mind too foggy to even process the feeling of embarrassment. It felt so good, yet it was torturing, your cunt was sobbing for something else. 
As if taking mercy on your desperation, or maybe his desperation had reached its limit, Alhaitham pulled away. Teary eyes followed his motion, watching as he aligned his length with your greed.
You’ve seen him walk out of the shower in just a towel, how did he hide this behind a puny towel? 
Your cunt’s eagerness blocked any hesitation from reaching your brain as his length dragged itself against your soaked lips. The pillow behind your head was not enough, you needed something more solid to hold onto, to ground the last shred of your sanity. 
Shaky hands released the plush pillows, outstretched towards Alhaitham’s immense frame. A growl ripped through his chest as he dove into your arms at the same time as his length thrusted fully inside you.  
“OH!” Your fingers left deep stretches along his shoulder blades. 
His pants and soft growls vibrated against your neck as your eyes rolled back again, the fullness you’d been craving has been fulfilled. The stretch burned in all the right ways as your walls clung onto his member, thick and hard. Soft legs locked around a solid torso, your body pressed against his as his frame pinned yours to the bed. Just as you were adjusting to feeling of his length inside, his hips began moving. 
They were merciless, slapping against your hips and ass as the force made your whole body bounce. His length punishes your walls as it pulled out to just the tip only to be slammed back in at full strength. You clung to his muscular body for dear life, breasts bouncing out of their home in your bra. 
Nonsense was spilling out of your mouth as your brain malfunctioned from the blinding flashes of pleasure. The slick slaps of your cunt eagerly welcoming his every move and the headboard of the bed knocking against the wall complimented each other. 
Alhaitham’s pants were growing heavier, growls deeper as his tongue began to trace up and down your neck. The sensation along with his thick tip bullying your poor sweet spot pushed you over the edge for the third time. Walls clamping down to milk him as your legs squeezed him, the pleasure was toeing the edge of pain, much like how your brain was on the verge of madness. 
Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, heavy balls slapping against your swollen lips. 
As the high was beginning to wear off, his pace became impossibly fast, the solid wood headboard now banging against the poor wall. Your bodies rocking together on the bed, he buried his face deeper into your neck. His teeth danced along your shoulder as your moans sang in his ears. He wanted to hear more of it. 
Alhaitham’s hips slammed against yours one final time before they stilled, teeth digging into your shoulder to suppress a moan, burying his length deep inside your cunt as his thick seed spilled. 
Your greed drank all of it up gratefully as your shoulder stung. 
Your chest was raising and falling fast, lungs trying to hog all the air that it could hold. Heart pounding hard in your ears. Tears and drool wet your face as your head fell weakly to the side on the soft pillow. You were completely spent as your arms didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him. Limbs limp and nerves fried. 
Above you Alhaitham continued to pant into your shoulder, length still buried inside. 
After a couple more harsh pants and deep breaths, you felt him stir, pushing against the bed to unpin you from his frame. 
“Ah-hh ahh~” You felt your walls clench once more around his length as he pulled out, a thick string of mixed slick connected his tip to your hole. 
Your body longed for rest as you turned onto your stomach, face pressed against the pillow, still panting heavily as your eyes closed. 
Two large hands grasped firmly onto your hips, startling your consciousness back as you looked over your shoulder. 
Alhaitham still had that scarlet haze in his eyes as he lifted your hips up, watching as more mixed fluids began to tickle out of your abused hole. Your eyes shifted down and you gulped, he was still erect. 
You were quite foolish to believe that one round was enough to satisfy an Alpha in rut. However, if it weren’t for his firm grasp on your hips, your body would’ve collapsed back into the sheets. 
A loud whine left your throat, vocalizing your exhaustion to him. It’s been a long time since you got any action, the two of you didn’t even consummate on the wedding night, it was spent packing your stuff. 
You tried to shift your hips out of his grip but he only held on tighter, earning another whine. 
Soft kisses were pressed against your back as if he was trying to soothe you. It was pathetic how weak you were to them, instantly melting against the pillow. Maybe you can last one more round you thought as his length rubbed against your slit again. 
Thanks to the extra prep and lubrication from the last round your walls were much more accustomed to the stretch as Alhaitham entered once more. His beginning thrusts were much more slowed and controlled than before as you moaned softly into the pillow. 
This couldn’t last sadly, as his lust overtook him again and his hips once again slammed into you, forcing a choked moan from you. Using his hands, he held your body up as he pulled all the way out until the tip then cruelly forced it all back into you. 
You wanted to beg him to rest, but you also wanted to beg for more. Your sloppy cunt accepted all his punishing movements with gratitude as the wet walls thanked his length with kiss-like contractions. 
Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, mind absolutely blank, the pleasure must’ve melted your brain. All you could do was grip the tear-soaked pillow and let out moan after moan, the poor wall still getting beaten by the movement of the headboard. Tension building up once more in you. 
 Somewhere along the lines, you felt his teeth graze against your nape as his thrust picked up the pace once more, a sign that he was close to finishing. He was panting against the back of your neck as if he was searching for something. With a particularly harsh snap of his hips, he bites deeply into your nape as he releases a fresh batch of seed. 
“Why?”
You felt the frustrated growls against your skin as he bites again at a different angle. The pleasureful pain seems to have jump started your brain for just a second. 
‘Oh, he’s trying to bond.’ You felt Alhaitham’s soft locks brush against your shoulders as he continued his fruitless search. 
You were once reminded that you were just a Beta, unable to form a bond. He could bite your neck as many times as he wanted. His teeth can pierce the flesh until the skin was raw, but it would be all for naught. He’ll never get that satisfaction. You don’t have the glands to be bitten, to be marked, to be bonded with. 
You weren’t an Omega. There was now a heavy knot in your chest. 
You weren’t even sure what day it was, all you can recall is the hazy cycle of intense lust followed by a lull before the next round. During the lull, you did your damnedest to keep yourself and him hydrated, often having to lure him into the kitchen for some much-needed water and quick snacks. 
The air of the house was thick with the musk of sweat and desire, very nerve of yours fried from pleasure. 
Once again your body was pinned under his, legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips desperately snapped against yours. 
Every article of clothing has long since been removed, allowing your breasts to bounce along with every thrust. By now you were certain the shape of him was pounded into your cunt. The soaked sheets below clutched in your hands as if to ground you from floating up to cloud nine. 
The harsh pants and low growls above you increased in frequency in time with his thrusts. He must be close again. 
Fortunately, you’ve noticed that the breaks between each round have been getting longer and longer. A sign that the rut was ending. If you survive this you’ll bring offers to the sanctuary of surasthana to thank the archons for their blessing. Maybe after the feeling returns back to your legs of course. 
Suddenly your face was pushed into the side of his neck, the scent of sweat now stronger. 
“Bite.” His rugged voice commanded. 
Ah… he wanted you to mark him. With clumsy teeth, you felt around the smooth muscles. You can’t sense where his glands were so you just bit down at random along his neck. It was useless, you knew it, but still...
Alhaitham pushed himself eagerly against your teeth, encouraging you to bite harder with a growl. You obliged. 
His teeth ran along your raw neck, already covered in his bites and hickeys, searching for one last spot. Your jaw clamped down harder as his teeth sank into your neck one last time. Hips stilling as one final wave flooded into you, it was hard to tell when one orgasm ended and another began. 
Your hands found purchase around his back again, holding him close as you panted against his neck. Against yours a frustrated growl vibrated once more, his muddled mind confused as to why no bond has formed. 
“Why?”
There was that cold pierce of pain again. 
The large hand on the back of your head held your nose close against his searing skin. It could’ve just been your fried nerves, but as the darkness overtook your vision, you could’ve sworn there was a warm and opulent scent of wood and books.
 If you were reborn, in the next life could you recognize his scent?
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Your eyes opened up to blinding sunlight. Your body ached as if it had been through hell and back, bones threatening to turn into dust at any second. The large bed messy and only occupied by one body. Shifting your sight away from the stinging light, his empty pillow came into view. 
You weren’t sure what came over you, but even as your muscles screamed you pressed your nose into the cold pillow and inhaled. Nothing. Just sweat and disappointment. 
Just what were you hoping for? That a few nights of passion would birth a miracle? That you’d somehow turn into something you couldn’t be? In the end, you were still you. Those novels must’ve rotted your common sense, stupid. 
Bitter tears fell onto the pillow, you didn’t have the strength to hold back the sobs as they wrecked through your body. 
Yes, you were stupid. So stupid from the very start to believe that this could work. That maybe after a few more years, maybe at the seven-year mark, he could fall in love with you as well. 
The dream of his tender eyes looking into yours with love crumbled right there in front of you. 
 A cup clanged onto the desk in the room as footsteps quickly made their way to your side, a blurred figure knelt down. 
“Is your body hurting anywhere? I’ll take you to the Bimarstan.” Alhaitham gently sat your covered figure up, trying to see the extent of the situation. 
Your small hands pushed against his solid frame, his motion stilled as you refused to allow him to see your face. 
However, Alhaitham knows he didn’t have the right to. Not only did he invade your sacred personal space, but he did so like a wild beast. Not allowing your body to rest or replenish itself as he trapped you to the bed for almost four days. He deduced that you must be hurting, that you must be scared of him now, and that must be the reason behind your tears. 
Guilt was suffocating him. Those stupid urges, that stupid rut. His stupid hands refusing to let you go.
Throughout your whole marriage, you had put on the mask of independence, someone who did not need to lean on a husband for comfort. Yet here you were, bawling out your eyes in front of him like a child. Your façade has been cracked, tears soaking into his pillow and snot trickling down under his unwavering gaze. 
What was the look on his face right now? You couldn’t see through the mirage of tears blurring your sight, not that you had the courage to face him. Was it disappointment? Right now as he observed your vulnerable figure, did he feel lied to after all these years? Like he had just discovered the defects in a product? 
The freezing water of self-loathing, doubt, and insecurity filled you like a boat whose haul had been pierced by the jagged edges of an iceberg. You were drowning, your limbs kicking and thrashing with all their might trying to resurface. 
For a brief moment, your face bobbed above the crashing waves.
“Let's get a divorce.” 
Those were the only words you managed to choke out in the space between your sobs before your head disappeared under the murky waters once more. 
His whole body froze as he processed your words. Alhaitham had already deduced why you wanted to end this relationship, he had hurt and scarred you. Yet, like a child, he still wanted to clamber for more answers. 
“Why?” He said through clenched teeth, you couldn’t see it but his hands had a slight shake. 
“We’re not satisfied, Alhaitham. I-it’s not working, I-i can’t satisfy your requirements. I-i can’t make you happy, I-i can’t make you love… me.” Hiccups breaking up your sentences.
That was it, you spilled out all your secrets. Your lungs and throat hurting as if you just pushed salt water out of them. 
Alhaitham’s hands were balled up so tightly his nails broke the skin on his palms. 
So, you weren’t happy. He couldn’t make you happy. He felt as if he had dropped down to the tier of a fool. A fool who didn’t know how to make those bitter tears of yours stop. 
He released you. 
You felt his presence disappear from your side. The touch of warmth he provides was now gone as coldness fully engulfs your whole being. The tears just wouldn’t stop. Is this what those heartbroken sobs actually felt like? Why did you ever think this was something to be desired? You truly were an idiot. 
You weren’t sure how long had passed, a few seconds or a few minutes, but his presence returned back to your side. He looked as if he had something in his hands. Were they divorce papers? Ah, Alhaitham was a man who always had a plan for everything. Did he have a premonition that this marriage was doomed from the start? How long has he had them?
Alhaitham didn’t feel like he had the right to touch you. However, he needed to do something to make you look at him. Please, just look at him. His large hands tenderly grasped yours as if they were made from glass. You still hid your face from him.
“I won’t bind you to a life that brings you unhappiness. But.. You have to tell me” His voice wasn’t as steady as he wanted it. 
“If you want strolls through the market, tell me. If you want to be woken up with sweet whispers, tell me. If you want to hold hands across a date night table, then tell me. You have to tell me what will make you happy.” He wasn’t sure if those were your unfulfilled desires or his.
You could only tighten your grip on his hands as you sobbed harder. 
Your statement from before was incorrect. Alhaitham is also at fault for this pain you were going through. If there was one feeling that was just as addictive as love, it would be hope. Please, please don’t give false hope. 
“I-i’ll disrupt your-r life…” You managed to choke out.
His thumb gently stroke the back of your knuckles.
“How could you ever disrupt something you’re a part of?” 
Your hesitant eyes finally met his teal gaze, his eyes soft as opposed to their usual stonewall stare. With the walls down, you were given a glimpse into the whirling emotions behind them. Endearment, sincerity, and hurt danced along the green-blue irises. 
“As for your last reason, here. I should’ve just given this to you directly.” His hands let go of yours, picking up the item he had brought.
He handed over the book you had placed back on your bookshelf a few days earlier, the one he had left his note on. So, he didn’t have divorce papers prepared? Your trembling hands accepted it, and through your teary eyes, you finally noticed the torn-out green and gold note contrasting between the cream pages. 
Tenderly, you unfolded the piece of paper retrieved from the book. Quickly blinking to clear your eyes from excess tears. In the neat script of Alhaitham’s handwriting: 
 ‘Love born in the heart as opposed to Love born in the brain:
 When one loves at first sight or goes looking for love, then one is essentially just attracted to someone for the sake of being with someone. Not looking objectively at any warning signs or relationship flaws one has with someone. If there are any issues, the bias of infatuation blinds you to them. 
So that's loving with the heart, based solely on carefree addictive emotion, even though it feels stronger and more enthusiastic on the surface. 
Love from the brain is more logical and objective. You take the time to understand a person, seeing them for them with unbiased eyes. You understand them thoroughly and can maturely and objectively work through the turbulence of life together. Individuals who set aside precious time to manually repair creaks, maintaining the structural integrity of a home that shelters their affections. 
With the diligence of a conservator preserving ancient scripts on papyrus that should have been disintegrated long ago. 
The latter rather than the former describes the bond forged between my wife and I.’ 
Your grip crumpled the side of the paper.
“What does this mean?” Hesitation in your voice as tears blurred your vision of his teal eyes. 
“I love you.” He confessed. Three words have been overdue for years.
‘Don’t be filled with false hope’ Your mind echoed.
 “I’m not an Omega…”
“That’s not a requirement for love.”
That was it. It was as if you’ve been waiting all this time for him to say those words. The words of affirmation you didn’t know you needed. The key to free you from the cage of insecurity you’ve built for yourself. 
Your feet now touched the warm sandy bottom as air rushed back into your lungs.
  It looks like you’ve figured it out. Regardless of what definition of love has been pushed by external forces, these feelings he holds for you are objectively pure and true love. His hands tenderly took yours away from its grip on the paper. If you wanted him to, Alhaitham will spend the rest of his life proving it to you. He’ll conduct every experiment and collect all the data points to present to you. 
How silly, a red thread spun by two pairs of hands, created through undying trust, respect, and admiration had already tied the two of you in a bond. The love you were trying so hard for had always been right in front of you for five years.
The blanket draped behind your head resembled a wedding veil as the fabric folded and gathered around your trembling body. ‘Beautiful’ He thought. 
The room was a mess, sheets and clothes strewn all across the floor. The musk of lust still hung heavy in the air, the residue of sweat and other fluids still clinging to skin. Your hair was all over the place, tears still pouring from your eyes, his hair was no better. But in this moment, there was nothing more Alhaitham wanted to do than this: 
“Will you take me, Alhaitham, as your lawfully married husband? To love me through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain?” 
Sobs were still wracking through your body, words unable to form in your mouth but you were nodding your head enthusiastically. Your hands felt small firmly holding onto his larger ones. 
“I, Alhaitham, will take you as my lawfully married wife. I will love you through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain… I do.” 
It was a silly sight to behold, but in this moment as he finally sees a smile break out on your face, it means the world to him. 
There’s a saying from a well-known poet from Fontaine it goes as follows:
‘Love is being stupid together.’ 
And clearly, the two of you have been very stupid. Oh so stupidly in love.  
Fin~
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Authors note:
The long quote was taken from Stendhal’s The Red and The Black
The last quote is from Paul Valery
Also communication is v important to any relationship, people can’t read minds Alhaitham. If you made it this far, thank you and hope you enjoyed!
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS. 
7K notes · View notes
fatuismooches · 9 months
Text
fabulam diu oblitus - postlude.
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synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: This is the fourth part of this fic, please read the other parts first! It seems that the fairy tale of you and Dottore comes to an end. Follows some of Sumeru's storyline. Warning for death. Angst. Thank you to my mootie @kaixserzz and my all of my dear anons (🎐, 🐓 <3) who kept me inspired to keep writing this fic :3
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prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.
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“The raven and butterfly’s happiness continued for much longer. But of course, every creature is aware that nothing lasts forever, and even the lightning in the sky would agree with that statement. All fairytales must come to an end. That was no different for the raven and the butterfly.”
There had been a buzz around the lab lately. Some of the segments had been ordered to leave for a Fatui mission. Which, would have been a normal occurrence, were it not for the place they were headed to this time.
“Sumeru? You’re going to Sumeru?” Your home country had instantly gotten your attention, not only because you haven’t been back in centuries, but also because the segments were never usually dispatched there, instead causing their usual chaos in other nations.
“Indeed. We will see if the Balladeer is able to become the God he so desires to be,” Omega hummed, moving a hand underneath your shirt to record your heartbeat. Ah, that was right. The puppet had stolen the Electro Gnosis to use as his ascension into godhood… and Dottore would be there to see how his experiment plays out. Well, you already had a feeling about how that would turn out. 
Moving on to a different subject, although Sumeru was the home you and Zandik were chased out of, you still held fond memories of it. Many happy things happened there for you, so the thought of it made you smile.
“You have to bring back lots of stories for me! And souvenirs! Oh, I would love to see how much Sumeru has changed from all those years ago,” you dreamily smiled. Yeah, your favorite cafe was probably gone by now… but you’d love to see what replaced it!
“Of course. I expect there will be much to say with the God of Wisdom and the Traveler intervening as well,” Omega chuckled, scribbling down something on his clipboard after glancing at the monitor, before fixing your shirt back.
“Your vitals have been better lately,” the segment commented and patted your head, which you happily indulged in. It wasn’t too noticeable, but it seemed like your body was getting even a little bit better. Not much, a little. But that was good anyway. “But run along now. There is much preparation to be done regarding the trip to Sumeru.”
“Okayyyy,” you stretched your words a bit disappointedly, not wanting to leave the segment, but you knew he had a lot of work to do. So instead you settled with pecking him on the cheek which he of course returned tenfold before you went off on your way. You had quite a few segments to say goodbye to, after all! You’d miss them a lot, but, you still had the other segments here with you. And your lover of course.
Surely, they would be back in the blink of an eye. Yes, surely, they’d return just as they always did. You had no reason to think otherwise. And so for the next few days, everything was normal. Time passed regularly. You got through the days as you did with any other.
But one day was different.
You were in your room by yourself, enjoying your alone time. Because as much as you loved being around the segments, you still liked being by yourself too. But all of a sudden, your tranquility was interrupted by literally a bang on your door, which made you jump.
The knock on your door was frantic and loud. Immediately you hopped out of bed to see what could possibly be so important that your door was getting pounded, but when you opened the door there was no one there. You were very confused… how was that possible? This was a pretty long hallway. Even with the segments’ abilities, there was no way they could just disappear into thin air like that. 
A bad feeling began to creep up on you, your stomach twisting and turning. You don’t know why, but it just did. But surely you were overreacting. Perhaps… perhaps… actually, you didn’t have any valid reasoning you could think of right now. Maybe though, maybe you should go and check on them. Just in case. You know that they’ll be there, in the lab doing their experiments or perhaps bickering with each other as usual, but there was nothing wrong with double-checking. And then you’ll calm yourself with a nice hug from one of them. It would all be okay. 
But you found that your steps were quicker and longer than usual, your breathing heavier than usual. As you got closer to the main lab’s doors, you strained your ears for their voices, anything, something, but heard nothing. You licked and bit your lip that had gone dry, weak legs walking even faster if that was possible, before you swung open the doors, hoping to see those blue mops of hair you so desired to see.
Nothing. The room was empty.
Your footsteps slowed, walking into the room cautiously. It was strange because it looked as if there were people in here just a few minutes ago. Notes that were left unfinished halfway. Beakers that had broken on the floor, with some mysterious liquids soaking the floor. Strange, very strange. And yet no trace of any segments remained.
The bad feeling had grown into something much worse now. Where else? Where else could they be? 
Their rooms. You should check their rooms. They were usually there if they weren’t in the lab, doing their own respective work (because their office and rooms doubled as one since they didn’t need to sleep.) So despite how your chest burned, and your legs ached, it didn’t matter if it meant your heart would be soothed and relieved.
You ran as fast as you could, more like you tried to because your illness had really kicked in since your mind was stressing out a great amount. As you clung to the walls, catching your breath, you paid no mind to the random agents who were looking at you funny, nor did you manage to catch their words of “Omega” or “erased” or “gone.”
It took longer than it should have taken you, but at last, you made it to the corridor with the segments’ rooms. You didn’t bother to knock, swinging open the door to Alpha’s room.
Empty.
Beta’s room.
Empty.
Every single room was empty. Fuck, even Zandy’s room was empty. And he was always in there if he wasn’t with you. Your head was throbbing with unease now, your heavy, troubled breathing sounding throughout the whole hallway. Where? Where? Where did they go…?!
“[Name].” A voice sounded from behind you. Spinning around, it was Dottore. Your Dottore! Okay, at least he was still here!
“Dottore,” you breathed a sigh of relief. He would have an explanation for this. “Dottore, where are all the segments? I-I can’t find them anywhere. I mean, I know the lab is really big, but it’s strange for them not to be in these areas,” you placed a hand on your rapidly beating heart, trying to calm it, not noticing your husband’s expression.
“...” The scientist was unsure of how to break the news to you because he knew of the bond you shared with the segments.
“Dottore? Why aren’t you answering me?” He opened his mouth to respond, but paused, seemingly trying to determine the best way to phrase his words. That only worried you more, because he was never one to sugarcoat his words. Your nervousness had returned once more, burning heat from fear creeping up your shoulders. “Zandik, answer me.”
“They’re gone, [Name].” The words took a few moments to settle in, silence overtaking the area for a little bit. But only for a little bit, as your nervous laughter rang out interrupting it.
“Gone?” You repeated. “What do you mean gone? They just can’t be gone. Right? Right, Dottore?” The nervous smile that had etched its way onto your face hurt badly, the laughter mixed with wheezing was painful, but it was all you could do to convince yourself this was a lie.
“Omega has… deleted them in exchange for the Electro Gnosis.” You looked at him blankly, the former emotion on your face gone.
“Deleted? Deleted from this world? From existence?” Your tone got higher and higher as you continued speaking. You didn’t even know Omega had the ability to do that. Or that the segments could be erased in the first place. Dottore just nodded in response. 
“But- but why? Surely t-there was another way?” Your voice was on the verge of breaking into tears.
“He wanted to show respect to the God of-”
“Respect? To a God, of all people?” You hissed, bubbles of anger surfacing now through your agony. “He’s a Harbinger, is he not? And he’s stronger than that God! He- he could have easily found another way! He didn’t have to DELETE the segments! Another method HAD to have been possible! Did he even try to negotiate?!” Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you raised your voice at him. It took everything it had in you not to fully scream. You began to pace back and forth, hand covering your already tear-streaked face, whole body shaking. Your husband could only watch.
Dottore wasn’t thrilled with Omega deleting all his segments either, with the endless resources that went into creating them, but what’s done was done. And both the Electro and Dendro Gnoses were acquired. But you? You were on the verge of hysterics. He had never, not once, seen you like this. 
You had come to a stop, head buried into your arm as you braced against the wall. Oh, the segments were gone forever. They were never coming back. You could only imagine how they must have been in their last moments. That they only had a few more moments to live. You couldn’t bring yourself to think about what Zandy must have thought in his last few seconds.
And what’s more, the segments had disappeared into… nothingness. There was no trace, no remains of their bodies whatsoever. And although seeing their bodies on the floor would have certainly destroyed you, perhaps this was even a worse fate. Because it was as if they never existed at all. You couldn’t even hold their bodies one last time, or give them a proper farewell. They were just… gone. Oh, how you wished you could have at least been there in their last moments, to provide some comfort, some love, some sense of peace. The more you thought about it, the countless memories with them flowing through your mind, the weaker your violently shaking body became as you struggled to hold yourself up. Dottore instantly noticed and, worrying about your frail condition, walked up to you before you spat out at him.
“Do not come near me.” Out of all the centuries Zandik has spent with you, he has never been on the receiving end of much anger from you. Rather, it was you who dealt with that from him. But this wasn’t just anger. It felt like venom.
“Why…” You pulled yourself up once again before glaring at him with teary eyes. “Why didn’t you stop him, Zandik? You could have, couldn’t you? They didn’t have to die…!”
There was only one answer the Harbinger could provide, even though he knew you would not like it. “It was necessary to obtain the Electro and Dendro Gnoses for the Fatui.” To this, you could only laugh again once more before digging your nails into your palms so hard it hurt.
“I see. I see…” You mumbled brokenly before stepping off to the side, your steps still unsteady and wobbly as you nearly tripped. Dottore once again tensed up, body wanting to move to support you, but the look on your face made him decide against it. You then walked past him, not sparing another look at him before exiting the corridor, tears still silently running down your face. He could only watch you as you left him standing, wondering about many things yet nothing at all.
“From that day, there was a drastic shift in the butterfly and raven’s relationship. The butterfly was indescribably hurt by the loss of the other ravens, and could not bear the pain. It was the first time the raven had ever been subjected to such cold treatment by his lover. Usually, it was the other way around. And it seemed like fixing this would not be easy.”
Dottore thought that if he gave you some space, you’d cool off soon enough.
He thought wrong.
You had flat-out been ignoring Dottore since the day the segments were erased. And not just refusing to talk to him. You didn’t even want to be in the same space as him. If he came into your room, you would just leave. As soon as he opened his mouth, you were gone. In order to give you your meds, he had to wait until you were sleeping to slip in, because of the way you were acting. When it was time to eat, he had to leave the meal outside your door, otherwise, you wouldn’t eat. That is if you even took it. The grief made it hard for you to do a lot of things, which made it imperative for him to help, but you didn’t want it. You were distraught, but you were angry too. Why? 
Because you truly loved the segments.
Dottore did not. He did not feel the same connection as you did. So he was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do to resolve this. Apologize? No, he suspected even if he did, it wouldn’t mean anything, because you’d know he didn’t fully mean it, and it wouldn’t bring the segments back anyway. Comfort you? You wouldn’t allow him to hold you or talk to you. Il Dottore did not know what should be done.
Omega received similar treatment when finally returned from Sumeru, the Gnoses in hand. Normally, you would be waiting at the entrance whenever he returned from expeditions. This time, however, you were not, which he supposed he should have expected. You didn’t want his stories. His gifts. No, all you needed to know was that he deleted the segments. They were gone because of him, and you didn’t want to see him right now.
Omega was not a human. He was a segment. Though, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t feel emotions. He did - when it came to you. But Omega was a selfish segment. Selfish when it came to a lot of things, you included. And selfishness and emotions do not bode very well, as it becomes… a convoluted mixture.
The segment thinks of himself as a patient man. He knows how to wait, and wait, and wait until it pays off. He can do that for you, too. Wait for you to come back to your senses. After all, they were just segments, right? And the superior one, the best one of them all was still here - him. So surely you won’t be like this for too long.
Just like his creator, he was proven wrong. He learned the depth of your anger a day he tried reaching out to you, wanting to put this whole situation behind. But you certainly didn’t share the same sentiment. It was like any other day, him talking to you and you walking away, but this time he reached out for you. The segment unconsciously longed for your touch, your affection, that was once so commonplace.
But as soon as you felt his fingers brush yours, you slapped Omega’s hand away with a scowl. You didn’t need to say anything. That one action spoke everything you wanted to.
You would never view him the same ever again.
“And so the butterfly found themselves drowning and suffocating in grief. Their whole life had been changed, the creatures who helped them through so much were now gone. But that would not be the last of the butterfly’s sorrow.”
You had been giving the cold shoulder to Zandik and Omega for a long time. Considering how clingy and affectionate you were before, they didn’t even know you had it in you. But now, it was as different as night and day. However, it wasn’t as much as it was before, because you still had to rely on them in order to live. Despite how much you didn’t want to, without them, you’d be dead. They were the ones who had to administer your medicine and give you check-ups so your condition wouldn’t get worse (although it already happened after the segments were deleted.) It was funny how easily progress could be reversed. How one thing, one random day, could change everything.
So eventually you had to let them in a bit. Most of the time you just ignored them and rarely spoke. Even during the checkups and shots, you had your head turned the other way the whole time. They would still attempt to talk to you, in hopes you would even grace them with a “yes” or “no” rather than the rare nod of your head. But it wasn’t very fruitful. 
Another habit of yours now was that if you weren’t in your room, you were most likely in a segment’s room crying. Especially Zandy’s. Clutching his plushies. Or maybe Alpha’s. Trying to fix up the parts he left lying on his desk. Or Beta’s. Going into his closet to wear his coat. Dottore knew better than to clean out their rooms because you would most likely snap at him again.
You didn’t have much energy to do anything else but lay in your room, blankly staring at the ceiling all day, your head a foggy, grief-filled mess. It did not feel good… you hated the feeling… but what else should you do…? You just wished you could feel the warmth of your segments… the seemingly annoyed but secretly delighted posture of Alpha as you held him from behind. The bitey nature of Beta that didn’t let you go once you were in his clutches. The small, clingy body of Zandy as he cuddled into your body, sweet dreams blessing him instead of the nightmares. But you could only dream about those things now.
Even the regular Fatui agents had noticed this development. The lovey-dovey nature of Il Dottore’s spouse was now reduced to this. You heard them speak about it.
“Have you noticed? Lord Dottore has been far more irritable lately.”
“Oh yeah, both Omega and Prime! I feel bad for those who have to work directly with them…. At least my job is just standing at this door all day.”
“I know. They always were terrifying, but it seems even worse now. Ugh, and now there’s even more work for us since all the segments are gone.”
“Do you know why? Has Lord Pantalone decreased his budget again?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of obvious…” The agent lowered his voice to a whisper. “His spouse, [Name], has been giving them the silent treatment for ages now. Don’t tell anyone this but, I believe that our great Harbinger, Lord Il Dottore… is feeling the effects of this. I’ve never seen them act like this!”
“Is that so? Speaking of, I don’t think I’ve seen them around here very much.”
“Well yes… if you were here for as long as I have been, you’d normally see them all over the lab but, they tend to stay locked up in their room nowadays. And Lord Dottore as well, he doesn’t leave his office much either. Omega seems to take care of much of the outward responsibilities.”
So that was what it was like. You got your answer to if Dottore missed you. You wondered how many people accidentally became his test subjects due to his rising temper because of you. But though it may not have looked like it, not speaking to your husband was hurting you tremendously as well. Because at the end of the day… he was your love, your life. He was your Zandik, the one who meant everything to you. The one who went through everything and anything with you. He was the only one you had… you still loved him, terribly so. Maybe that was a bigger weakness than your illness.
But that didn’t mean you were any less mad at him.
Omega, on the other hand… ah, you didn’t even know what to think anymore… you were so conflicted, it was so hard to even think… when you said you loved all the segments, that included him too. But he deleted all of them… you hated him… but did you love him too? No, you should continue to hate him, he was the selfish one… Zandy was gone because of him… you couldn’t forgive him! So you didn’t forgive him. The days continued the same as always. 
Until one fateful day.
Omega was set to head out on a mission. Which was quite unusual nowadays, because ever since the clones were deleted, he couldn’t afford to leave Snezhnaya with all the work that had to be done. All you had heard was that the blonde-haired traveler would be there too, from all the whispering around the lab.
But what did it matter to you? Whether the segment was here or not, it was the same to you. His whereabouts were surely not of concern to you, so you had no feelings on this. Though the night before he was set to leave, he knocked on your door anyway. You immediately pulled the blankets over your face and curled to the side of the bed so you wouldn’t see Omega. The door shut with a click and his boots sounded against the floor.
“Hello, [Name]. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that I am leaving soon. It is another critical mission for the Fatui, and I suspect the Traveler will be there once again.” He didn’t receive a response from you, which he expected. “But I’m sure this is of no interest to you, anyway.” He guessed right, you thought, you didn’t care. However, even after saying what he had to say, he did not leave. A silence overtook the room as neither of you moved or spoke. But then Omega called your name, with another short silence coming after it before he spoke once more.
“I will not ask for your forgiveness, because I know I will not receive it, nor will I apologize, because I believe I took the right course of action. But…” Omega paused, “I still hold you fondly. I still…” He reached his hand out to your covered body but drew it back before his fingertips could brush you.
“I hope we will be able to talk more once I return.” He seemed to wait a few more seconds, perhaps hoping you would stay something, hoping he could at least see your face before he left, but to no avail. All you heard was the retreating footsteps and the click of your door shutting once more. You pulled the blankets off so you could breathe properly again, as you thought about his words.
What should you do? You didn’t know. The segments had passed quite a while ago, and the pain was still fresh in your heart, but Omega… ugh… perhaps, maybe, just maybe, you could try talking to him once more. Only an attempt. If you didn’t like how it felt, you’d stop. And he wasn’t returning from the mission for a few months, so you had ample time to make your decision anyway.
But Omega never returned.
The next few months flew by quickly, and though Omega had not returned yet, you thought nothing of it. Something must have come up that delayed his return. It’s happened before, it probably happened again. That was until you noticed groups of Fatui huddled together murmuring in the lab. As soon as they saw you, they went back to work and shut up their little gossip quickly, which was very strange. Now you really needed to know what was going on, so you decided to silently eavesdrop on the next pair you found. But you would have never thought of the words you heard next.
Omega had been killed by the Traveler. 
Omega was dead.
Omega wasn’t coming back.
You would never see him ever again. The realization made your body weak as you stumbled back, having to cling to the wall for support. He was gone… the tears immediately sprang to your eyes, as you covered your mouth to keep your sobs down. Omega killed the other segments. Maybe a part of you should feel glad. But no, all you felt was red-hot grief and pain, as you crashed into the nearest random room, and cried, and cried, and cried.
If you knew that was the last time you would see him, you wouldn’t have acted like that…
You wonder why things had to turn out like this.
“The butterfly never truly recovered from their loss, but as they say, time heals all wounds.”
After Omega died, you didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore. You were just tired. Tired of everything. Everything felt like a chore. Though you saw your husband more often now. Since there were no more segments, and Dottore obviously wouldn’t trust even the best Fatui doctors with you, he was the one who did all the usual medical stuff for you now.
Admittedly, his touch felt nice. It felt good. It felt like exactly what you needed right now. Comfort. So you gave in. When he had finished the usual procedure, as he turned his back on you, you reached out and wouldn’t let go of his hand. Dottore stiffened from the contact - it had been a while since you’d touched him so intimately - but you didn’t let go, and only weakly tugged him closer, which he complied to. You couldn’t bring your eyes to meet his, instead blankly staring at his shoes, but he seemed to get the message anyway. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around you to gauge your reaction, and when he saw no resistance, he pulled you into his chest and held you. You missed this feeling. You missed Zandik.
And maybe you were scared he would leave you too.
Things continued like that for a while. You’d seek your husband out for his touch. His presence. His voice. Anything that would bring you some peace. Though you still remained mostly silent during these times. You just didn’t know what to say. Sometimes you wondered if he was mad at you. Annoyed. Disappointed. You didn’t want to know though. You were content with the fact that Zandik would hold you in his lap even at the wildest hours of the night.
But now, it had been some time since Omega’s death and even longer since the other segments were erased.
You weren’t quite ready to move on, no, not yet, but it was inevitable. Or perhaps you would never truly move on, instead, they would always be a part of you. You’d always carry them with you. But regardless, you needed to try, at least for Zandy. You think he’d want you to try and smile more often. You were speaking a bit more to your Harbinger friends again, and finding some enjoyment in your hobbies. Not to mention your relationship with Zandik was becoming better again. He had still been there, even when your illness and grief had you at your worst, with no complaints. Even though he had nothing to gain from this relationship. Even though you had become someone different. He had always loved you.
But there was still a rift caused by everything that had happened, that you wanted to fix. Because at the end of the day, in this world, you two only had each other. So you decided to talk to him about it. You had a habit of this, just waltzing into his office without knocking, and came upon Dottore who had a small box in his hand, appearing to gaze at whatever was in it, before he quickly snapped it shut at your sudden arrival. You recognized that box. It was the one where he kept his wedding ring in. So he still had it like that after all these years. You pretended like you didn’t see it as he swiftly put it away.
“[Name].”
“Zandik. Are you busy right now?”
“No.” Both of you knew that was a lie. The Second Harbinger was always busy. You knew for a fact he was stretched thin, especially since he wasted so much time taking care of you along with his Fatui duties, which piled up quickly with no more segments.
“Alright… can we talk?”
“Of course.” Zandik had been especially attentive to your words lately. Perhaps because he missed the times you would talk his ear off.
“I want to make something clear.” Zandik looked at you curiously as you took a deep breath. Many possibilities raced through his head.
“I still love you, Zandik.”
Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that, and you could tell, even though his expression did not betray his thoughts.
“You already know the reason I’m…” Your voice trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud, but you continued. “But I… appreciate you for staying by me. For all these centuries, through everything. It’s been a… very long time. And although things are different now, I want us to be… happy again. It might not be immediately but… it’s because I love you, Zandik.” You swallowed, at the end, your voice growing a bit softer. Ah, you hoped that wasn’t too sentimental. Zandik’s expression was blank so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“So yeah, that’s all… I guess.” All of a sudden, the silence that followed made you embarrassed, and you wanted to leave there as quickly as possible. “Okay, I-I’ll let you do your work now.” And then you hastily made your exit and left the Harbinger alone, before he started chuckling to himself. He’d expect nothing less from you, his dear, darling spouse.
Though he wonders if you realize time is irrelevant for him. He’ll wait for you as long as it takes.
“One thing about the raven and the butterfly that would never change was that they were wholly intertwined with each other. Their fates were one. So even if they happened to go their separate ways, they would inevitably return to one another again.”
It was actually quite scary how fast time flew. From the time you woke up, to marrying Dottore, to the segments passing, to right now… it felt like a blur. You guess, now that your life span was no longer that of a regular human’s, time was starting to skew a bit for you. Well, you were just excited to spend decades more, even centuries with him.
Throughout all the years that had passed since that day, you found yourself falling more and more in love with Zandik again. You suppose that should be normal for a married couple but, it never ceased to amaze you how one man could make you feel like this.
Something that had become somewhat of a habit for the two of you was dancing. Yes, dancing. It had come up during one of your wedding anniversaries. To be honest, neither of you really did or planned anything special for the day. Perhaps there was a bit more kissing along with other affectionate activities, but you two didn’t look at it as something that big. First, because you didn’t want to waste his already precious time, but also because you knew from the beginning the wedding anniversaries would be countless. So every anniversary was more of something you expected, so it was nothing too big to celebrate, especially as people who lived this long… if that made sense. And Dottore… was Dottore after all. Never one to care much for dates.
But on one anniversary you were reminded of how you two danced during the wedding. Your clumsy steps as Dottore guided you through it all, and you wanted to relive that, so he indulged you. And funnily enough, you were a lot better! Your steps weren’t as unsteady and your body didn’t ache as much. Dottore’s feet didn’t get assaulted by yours too much. Even Dottore was pleasantly surprised. It probably had to do with the fact that although you weren’t cured yet, your health had been up on an upward curve. Of course, never the best but, much better than you first were. You were proud of yourself for making it this far.
So now, when you had time, you found yourself rehearsing your steps with him and your husband twirling you around. Perhaps one day you could reach his level.
You found that there were days that reminded you of the Akademiya. Where you could help him with his notes and research like a real assistant would. Obviously, it still wasn’t the best but it was something, and you could see that Dottore liked it. These days often came with you teasing him with embarrassing memories from the Akademiya.
“I still remember when you got motion sickness from piloting that ruin golem, Zandik.”
“For the last time, I did not get motion sickness, [Name].”
“Mhm, sure. If I didn’t drag you out, you would have-”
“That is enough from you.”
You found that there were more days he would take you out into the Snezhnayan winters (you were bundled up to the max) so you could finally see the snow. You found yourself attending your first balls at the Tsaritsa’s palace, as Dottore was now forced to attend himself rather than his segments. He didn’t want to leave you by yourself in the dreary lab so… you were often his plus one, where you spent the evening poking fun at him with Columbina. (You also were the one who publicly took sweets to-go from the parties for him so he wouldn’t get judged.)
And perhaps your favorite memory was when he took you back to Sumeru - yes, to another country - so you could witness the Akademiya Extravaganza festival. He, of course, had no interest in it, but you being you and loving fun things absolutely did. Many things happened, including meeting the Traveler… but that story was for another day.
All in all, you always knew this but, you found that no matter how many years passed, no matter what Il Dottore has done, no matter the amount of sins and wrongfulness he has committed… you were hopelessly in love with him. From the time he was that perpetually irritated but in love student from the Akademiya to his current self, the Harbinger that was a stark contrast to his former self but still possessed you for himself.
Sure, it was a bit lonely at times compared to before, but all the tender moments throughout the years made you happy to have Zandik in your life. Which is why you foolishly thought these times would last forever.
When Dottore told you he was leaving Snezhnaya, and therefore the lab, and therefore you, it jolted you right up from your sleepy daze on his lap.
“What?!” The word came out as a half yell, half-whisper. “What do you mean you’re leaving Snezhnaya?”
“It means I’m leaving Snezhnaya, dear,” he continued on his paperwork (which never seemed to end) as if this was common knowledge. “The mission needs a Harbinger to oversee it, and the task falls to me this time.” 
You were devastated. There were times when Dottore only had to leave the lab for a few days to attend to matters in different parts of Snezhnaya. (You spent the time at Columbina’s mansion because oddly enough, she always seemed to be there… how did she manage to shirk her duties so often?) But this was completely different. He would be so far out of reach, for a long time probably too. Foreign missions always took a while. You remember how long you had to wait for the segments to return from them.
“Okay, then I’ll come with you!”
“No, you’re not,” he immediately shut down your proposition. “Missions are still far too dangerous with your current state. You will stay in Snezhnaya, and wait for me to come back.” You knew when he used that tone, things were final, and you hung your head low, all sleepiness gone at the fact you wouldn’t be seeing him for months. Sure, you would be staying with Bina as usual but, you had a feeling it’d be hard to replace the rush of emotions Dottore gave you on a daily basis. 
Dottore noticed your dour expression, which he obviously expected, and sighed, setting down his pen. At this point, it was a sort of routine that he had memorized, comforting you and all. Although comfort would never be something he was adept in, years of doing it had let him become somewhat proficient. 
“[Name],” he moved his hand to guide your chin up so you could look at him. You were pouting. “These few months, or even less, depending on how quickly the work gets done, will only be a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. I’ll be back before you know it,” he hummed. Although he certainly was not pleased about leaving you by yourself for so long, such was the life of a Fatui Harbinger. It was at times like these he missed his segments. (Did that sound selfish? Well, he was a selfish man when it came to you.)
A drop in eternity, huh? Well, when he puts it like that, then maybe it would be just a bit bearable. And, when you think about it, he’s waited over four hundred years for you, all alone. So this little challenge couldn’t be too hard, right?
“Alright… I’ll wait for you, Zandik.”
“Good,” he chuckled at how easy it was to win you over sometimes and stroked your cheek. “In the meantime, you can work on the recipe you’ve been vehemently hiding from me and show me when I’m back.” You immediately brightened at that.
“Oh yeah! I promise you’re going to like these sweets better than the ones at the bakery!” You proudly declared.
“Oh? Now that’s a high standard you’ve set yourself to, dear. Are you sure you’re going to be able to live up to it?”
“Hmph, don’t underestimate me. My baking skills have improved over the years!”
The banter always made you two feel like regular humans, despite what you two really were.
“The days went by peacefully for the lonely butterfly, but soon that feeling was shattered when they learned of a golden comet’s presence near their raven.”
The days in Columbina’s mansion went by rather uneventfully. Surprisingly enough, she wasn’t home as often as usual. It seemed like the Fatui were really stepping up their business now. You’d have to ask Dottore about that. Maybe the day Celestia is defeated was closer than you thought. But today was a day Bina had some time to indulge in cakes and conversation with you. The chit-chat was mundane but brought a sense of comfort until the conversation somehow ended up with Dottore as the topic. Your friend always liked teasing you about him. Everything was lighthearted and sweet until she idly mentioned his mission.
“I wonder how your Doctor is doing on the mission~”
“Well, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s Dottore after all.”
“Mhm, that’s right. I do wonder how he plans to deal with the Traveler though.” The mention of the blonde’s name nearly made you drop your teacup.
“W-What?” Your voice cracked as you implored your friend to tell you more. You were now realizing that you neglected to ask Dottore what the mission exactly was, and he did not reveal the contents as well, probably because he knew you’d freak even more if you knew he was most likely going to confront the Traveler. Columbina looked confused.
“Dear, did he not tell you?”
“No! I- ah, he only told me he has a mission in another nation, I guess it slipped my mind to ask him the details!” You now had your hand clutched to your head and another one trying to soothe your now rapidly beating heart. A naive and very stupid part of you thought it wouldn’t have to come to this, but it already did, so quickly too. 
Why were you so particularly scared? It was because all you could think of was Omega’s death by the Traveler’s hand, as well as your fellow colleagues. You knew that Dottore was far stronger than any of them but… you were in a panic. All the worst possible scenarios began invading your mind relentlessly.
“[Name], calm down. Dottore is strong. We do not even know if it will end in a battle or not, but regardless of the outcome, he is smart enough to-” Bina attempted to comfort you before you interrupted her and abruptly stood up.
“I need to go.”
“Go? Go to Dottore, dear?”
“Yes. Yes, I need to see him. I need-” Your words were becoming a jumbled mess from the anxiety this piece of news caused. “I need to see him in person if he’s okay.”
“You do not think you should think about this some more? I suspect the Doctor will not be happy if he sees you there, even if it’s you of all people.”
“It doesn’t matter. If I stay here, all I’ll be able to think about is him.” You could already see yourself losing sleep and appetite over this. “But as long as I can see him okay… even if he’s angry, I can deal with it. Anything is better than being over here helpless!” Columbina watched you silently.
“Alright. Be ready in a few days.” You looked at her in surprise.
“Bina? You’re helping me? You’re not going to… stop me?”
“Dear [Name], I will not get in the way of a decision you’ve made for yourself. If this is what you’ve decided, then it is my duty as your friend to assist you as I’ve done in the past. And perhaps this will teach the Doctor a lesson to stop withholding information from you,” the Harbinger sighed.
“…Thank you, Columbina.” You’d have to repay her sometime later.
“The raven and the butterfly found themselves reunited again at long last, and would stay together like that forever.”
It was funny you found yourself back here, your home country. It seems like you two were always drawn back here, despite no longer being welcomed. But that didn’t really matter too much, because as soon as the boat you were on pulled into the port, it was clear that today was not a normal day in Sumeru City.
You were too late. 
The fight had clearly already begun, probably only recently too, by the chaotic state of Sumeru. Obviously, it’d be out of order if there were two immensely powerful beings in battle with each other. Maybe, if you were just a bit sooner… but you already had your mind set. Although the Fatui agent entrusted with your safety was ready to head back already, his orders to not let you come to any danger, you just tranquilized him. (It was a courtesy device from Dottore in case he wasn’t near.)
And you ran. Was that a good idea considering your illness? Absolutely not, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Was it a good idea to walk into the middle of a battle? Also no, but you couldn’t shake the bad feeling you had this whole time. 
Although it was far away, it was easy to spot the place, as for one there were Fatui swarming the area and also regular citizens running in the opposite direction. Though your lungs were absolutely burning, your knees weak and scraped from tripping, tired from bumping into others, illness flaring up even worse from the added stress and exertion, you continued ahead with only one goal. To see your husband.
Throughout your haggard walking, you thought of the future. You thought of how great it would be to see Teyvat change in the next four hundred years just as he did. And this time, Dottore would not have to witness it by himself. He would have you. It would be amazing, just thinking of all the variety of new inventions and such that would be created! You two would surely dissect them and put them back together for fun. You two would do a lot of things, you think, as you finally made it to the door of the grand building the fight was in. It was already rather damaged, but the door managed to remain mostly intact, so you pushed it open.
Just in time to see the Traveler land the final fatal hit to Zandik, his body landing on the floor with a painful thud.
Your worst nightmare had become reality. But… Zandik told you he’d return to you in no time…
Suddenly, all the will you had before was gone in an instant. You didn’t have the energy or focus to call out his name. All you could do was blankly stare at his defeated body while taking some hesitant steps forward, all while mumbling something incoherent under your breath. The Traveler, despite their exhaustion, noticed you and immediately readied their sword again. But, they soon realized that there was no need for that from the exceedingly dull look in your eyes and the way you tripped over yourself again, landing on the floor, reaching out your hand towards the Doctor. You had to make it to him.
You pathetically dragged your body closer to Zandik, every part of it screaming out in part for you to stop. But you didn’t care. You could take it. After all, you knew the pain would soon be over. The Traveler merely watched you, still a bit on edge for what you could do, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything besides Zandik, so you continued inching your body to your husband before you finally reached him. His body was practically motionless, his face revealed as his mask was destroyed to the side somewhere. When you came into view, a flicker of surprise came across his face but it quickly morphed into one of acceptance.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” You half-laughed at that.
“I could say the same to you…” Your voice had dropped to a soft, defeated one. Huffing and panting, you used your last remaining strength to pull yourself up and kneel, tenderly bringing your husband’s head onto your lap. He did not resist. It wasn’t like he had the strength to anyway. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be here, either.”
“It was not necessary… at the time,” Zandik said, looking right at you the whole time with those red eyes of his. “But I suppose I should have expected this. You never do as you are told, do you?”
“Of course not. But you should remember that whenever I break the rules, things turn out fine for us.” You smiled, and you had a feeling both of you were thinking of the same memories. That time you helped him break into the Akademiya’s library when it was closed, or the time you threw a book at someone for him, or the time you two helped each other on what was supposed to be solo assignments. Or the times you ran away from his needles and medicine, or the times you went behind his back and befriended the others. Those times ended out okay, so this time would be okay too.
Then, the building began to rumble, most likely about to collapse. The battle must have been quite fierce. Although the Traveler felt no remorse for the two of you, their kind heart still couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of pity. After all, the blonde had read the notes the two of you left scattered around Sumeru. To think that a relationship could last so long, especially one with the mad Doctor… You noticed their expression before you rasped out a mixture of a plea and demand.
“Why are you still here? Leave us now. I want to be alone with him.” Your words were empty of emotion towards them. There was no point in any hostility anymore, not when you had to treasure the last moments with your beloved. The Traveler didn’t seem surprised by your words, as they nodded and threw the bloodied Harbinger one last glance, before running away with the little fairy. It seemed they knew… you’d rather die here along with him than live without him.
You looked back at Zandik’s face, his once brightly colored red eyes now a darkened hue.
“I’ve failed you, [Name].” Since it was the end of the line now, even a genius scholar such as him had to admit defeat. Dottore thought back to all the times he swore to cure you. He swore he would do it so that you could be who you used to be once more. But he failed. He let you lose centuries of your life and left you in pain for your conscious ones. But you didn’t seem to share the sentiment.
“Failed me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the tears that began to run down your cheeks. “Oh darling, you have never failed me. Not once in over four hundred years.” Zandik continued to stare at you because that was all the strength he had to do, so you reached for his hand and brought it to your cheek.
“You’ve loved me continuously for so many centuries, haven’t you? How could that ever be a failure?” You nuzzled into his hand, his own blood beginning to smear on your face, but you didn’t care. 
“Your love has changed so much over time. From your prickly and thorny yet beautiful love from the Akademiya. To your smooth and unabashed love now. But your love was unfaltering, to me at least. Perhaps I may be delusional, and I overthink how much you love me. But I think it was real, even though you may never admit it, that is what matters to me. So if you’re thinking about the cure, forget it.” Your hands were shaking and struggling to hold his to your cheek for this long, energy spent, but you continued anyway, even as a piece of the infrastructure suddenly caved in and collapsed on the opposite side of the room with a loud crash. “The cure isn’t what mattered. It was you.”
Zandik thinks you are the only person who has forgiven him. Not even he has. He knows he does not deserve it, but he shouldn’t say that to you now. But he thinks, even at this moment, perhaps it may seem sick or morbid, your beauty still manages to surpass that of any other being in Teyvat.
You thought about the Tsaritsa, who had shown you much love and kindness. You hoped she would finally achieve her goals. You thought about the other Harbingers, the ones who were still alive at least. You would miss them. You looked at your wedding ring. It was still intact. How lovely. Lastly, you thought about Zandik as you looked at him, and he seemed to realize something.
“[Name], reach into my pocket.” You were confused but you complied, wincing in pain a bit but successfully reached it and pulled out a box. It was the box he kept his wedding wing in. Popping it open, you were correct, and still couldn’t help but be a bit incredulous.
“You brought it with you?” You were surprised because a part of you still believed he thought the whole thing was a bit dumb.
“I normally do not but, with the length of the mission, I believed it would be a simple and easy way to be reminded of you.” That was cute.
“Sorry. I guess the good luck charm didn’t work,” you smiled apologetically as you slipped the band onto his finger, to which Zandik scoffed.
“You know very well I do not believe in luck.” You only laughed, though it was mostly drowned out by multiple crashes and rocks falling all around you. Being buried was a fitting end, to be honest. No one else needed to know about the two of you. No one else needed to know your stories. It would be best if the two of you ended up forgotten, lost to time. Then, no one would be able to misunderstand or twist your relationship.
Despite all of the pains that had befallen you, the suffering and hardships, you could happily say you lived a good life. You were happy, so happy, thanks to Zandik. Zandik was what made this life worth living… so this was okay. You would have loved to have been cured and lived out many more happy memories with him but… this was alright. But the time was limited, so this conversation needed to be wrapped up in a way that would satisfy you.
“I love you, Zandik.” You don’t expect any response back because of your husband’s poor track record with saying those words. 
The times Zandik has said the words ‘I love you’ have admittedly been scarce and in-between despite the centuries he’s spent with you. It was a grand total of… two times. And both had been said when he thought you were sleeping. 
The first time had been in the Akademiya. It had been a while since you two were a couple, and he had yet to say it. You expected that obviously. But one random night, when you two were cuddling and drifting off into dreamland, you heard the three words mumbled into the crook of your neck. It took everything in you not to react.
The second time had been when you had recently woken up from your coma. Dottore was around you constantly, taking so many tests that it made your head spin, and you had to take naps more often than not. And once again, as you were just about to slip off into slumber, you heard the three words whispered as he gently bit your ear.
Surprisingly enough, the third time would be now. Perhaps because he had nothing to lose anymore, as it was the end.
“I love you as well, [Name].” Your eyes go wide for a few seconds before you grin widely one last time, and you give him a look that says ‘I know.’ Zandik watched your eyes flutter shut as you leaned down to his face, and he let himself be enveloped in your final kiss, neither of you paying attention to the shadows cast by the multitude of broken architecture about to fall on top of you.
Let the fairy tale come to a close.
“In his last moments, the raven was taken back to a memory from centuries ago. It was a memory where he was truly happy with his lovely sparrow.”
Zandik awoke to a blue sky and a gentle breeze. He blinked, immediately trying to gauge where he was. But then the sound of a familiar voice flooded his senses.
“And you know what this professor had the audacity to say to me, Zandik? ‘Figure it out!’ Like, you’re supposed to be helping me, not writing me off! You’re getting paid for this!” You were lying down on the grass next to him, hands folded as you huffed. “At least I have you, Zandik. Way better than any damn professor.” He blinks at you. 
Zandik remembers this moment. It was the day when exams and classes were finally over, and you wanted to relax before helping him with his experiments. And you also thought it was the perfect time to rant about all the professors you had to deal with over the last few months. But soon, you just started bringing up random things that occurred over the term. Zandik couldn’t remember the last time he saw you like this. Donning the Akademiya uniform, so happy and carefree… healthy, strong, like nothing in the world bothered you.
He found himself slightly smiling at how stupidly happy you looked, before reaching out to you. But as soon as merely his fingernails came into contact with you, you began to dissolve right in front of his eyes. Immediately, he stiffened and sat up, again trying to take hold of you but you were no longer there. Zandik’s hands began to shake, and that’s when he realized his surroundings were changing.
The blue sky was now fading away, becoming pitch black along with everything else that was chipping away, ready to swallow him whole into the darkness.
Ah, he understood now.
This was the end.
“Finally, the twisted raven met his fate.”
Or so he thought. Zandik woke up once more. Everything seemed normal at first, the blue sky was once again there and the Sumerian breeze caressed his hair. Until he realized there was a sticky substance coated all over his hands.
Blood.
This wasn’t an unfamiliar occurrence for him, after all, he would usually get hands-on with his experiments, but he had an… odd feeling about this. Zandik blinked and all of a sudden, there you were lying on the ground in front of him.
Dead. Coated with blood.
Did he… kill you?
All too quickly, before he could reach out to hold your body or begin to process what happened, he was suddenly somewhere else. The desert.
Zandik laid eyes upon you. What he would usually see was you complaining about the heat while you dug through the ruins. What he saw instead was an Eremite plunging a sword through you.
And again. This time he awoke to you being completely cold and limp in his arms. And again. It didn’t take his brain long for him to understand what was happening.
His victims and test subjects could torture him for eternity, yet Dottore would not feel bothered or a shred of remorse. It would be a useless endeavor. But this? This was the perfect punishment. 
His beloved being killed in front of him, by the world, by other people, by natural forces, by his own hands. And for all of the power and knowledge he once had, he was powerless to do anything yet again.
… How ironic, Zandik thought.
At last, the tiny Archon closed the storybook.
It had been ages since the events in this tale had taken place. The Fatui were no more, Celestia was gone, the Traveler had long left this world, and Teyvat was at peace. So much time, that the Outcast’s name no longer floated around the Akademiya, now long forgotten. The God of Wisdom herself had gained a tremendous amount of knowledge from all the years that had flown by. And even still, she has not forgotten this story.
Yet, in all of her wisdom, she still cannot hope to fully understand the raven and the sparrow. The Dendro Archon found herself coming back to this tale, trying to comprehend their actions and thoughts. She reads it aloud to herself, draws pictures, and crafts the tale with her own words, yet it only leaves her more lost. Perhaps one day she will understand. But perhaps she won’t. Perhaps no one ever will.
After all, there were only two people who would ever truly understand the bond between the raven and the sparrow. 
Zandik and [Name]. 
An unfriendly and cold scholar and a sweet and caring one.
An immoral villain and an accomplice.
A violator of this world’s laws and a supporter.
A Harbinger and an assistant.
Regardless of those titles, perhaps at the end of the day, they only saw themselves as one thing to each other.
Two people who loved each other as if nothing else mattered.
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read-write-thrive · 21 days
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JATP x DBDA crossover where the Phantoms are free but Willie still isn’t and Caleb is playing dirty now that the boys have bested him (possessing Nick but also cmon he definitely has more magic up his sleeve) so they start trying to figure out Magic on their own, which is really just Julie and Flynn googling things and trying out various types of magic/spells/scam artists in the area, only for someone to come across something to do with the DBDA who are happy to take the case 👀
I have too many WIPs for this but just some ideas floating around my head:
- Crystal at first butts heads with Julie and Flynn (residual mean girl tendencies/differing senses of humor) but end up bonding over being surrounded by (dumb) dead teenage boys
- None of the Phantoms are good at proper spells but their music 100% has magical properties that is utilised in whatever final battle type event happens
- Edwin has come to terms with Charles’s eccentricities but the Phantoms are a whole other type of teenage boy and I think he would be just so catty about it all. Like why are they cute and so stupid this is ridiculous why the Hell did we even take this case can they please take this seriously
- Charles and Reggie vibe. I don’t make the rules
- Flynn can’t see the boys either which naturally leads to hijinks
- Monty attends a concert (he deserves to have fun) and while I considered him being the link between the two groups I think it would be funnier if he decided to go to a concert and runs into them coincidentally
- Based on a precursory AO3 search I’ve seen some fics where Monty gets in trouble with Caleb which makes sense with the whole magic familiar angle but I’m not copying here so I won’t get into that
- I think Willie interacting with DBDA would be wild. Like. Dead pretty boy with a sense of humour and tragic backstory? They’re all swooning fr
- Niko (shhh) gets along with Julie and Flynn IMMEDIATELY like they are talking about shows and DIYing things together and it’s great
- Crystal gets along better/faster with Julie and Flynn with Niko present fs
- There’s at least one dance number with everyone involved
- possessed!Nick is still trying to woo Julie and not only do we get the Phantoms side eyeing him but now we get the DBDA just openly judging him (Crystal roasts the shit out of that fedora and she’s RIGHT)
- Crystal would decimate any of Carrie’s attempts at being bitchy so I think we have to redeem Carrie for that reason alone
- DBDA goes to a JATP concert and the boys are actually awful at vibing there. Like Crystal is relatively normal (idk if it’s her scene but she’s been to concerts before) but Edwin does not know what to do at a modern concert and Charles is used to a much different style of dancing/concerts (I don’t know enough abt aka punk to elaborate unfortunately but ykwim)
- girls night includes style swapping bc the DBDA girlies deserve some butterfly clips and the JATP girlies deserve some eyeliner
- in the nature of JATP I don’t think Caleb gets sent to hell in the end but I do think his ending needs to be ridiculous. Like have him get the Night Nurse treatment and get eaten by that fish so he can be redeemed by Kashi
- not to bring up Monty again but I think he sticks around and keeps up with the JATP crew more than the DBDA (he is not interested in any more of that Hell/monster energy and that’s so valid of him)
- montage of Edwin and Charles teaching the Phantoms ghost abilities (I can’t remember if/how they vary between shows but if so shhh or explain it away yk)
- Unseen Emily reprise and it’s all the boys mourning loved ones. Just for the feels.
- Actually just more backstories for everyone please
- Love ballad/slow song that Willex and/or Payneland dance to 🥰
- Palasaki being openly in love (which inspires whatever the Flynn x Carrie ship is bc I love them)
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jinkookspencil · 2 years
Text
stay | jjk
jungkook is drunk out of his mind, belting pop ballads in the middle of the night.... you had to check in on him
description/tw/tags: ~4k words / jungkook x (f) reader / one-shot / angst and fluff / friends to lovers / inspired by jungkook's recent lives!! i just had to :') / includes drunk, flirty jungkook and mentions of alcohol and drinking / oc stays sober / jungkook gets so drunk thinks he's having a steamy dream with oc gone wrong / feedback is always welcome and it's appreciated!! it's been a while since anyone really told me their honest thoughts on my fics 💗
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Celine Dion’s voice blasting through your phone was not what you expected when you got a call from Jungkook, but it was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. It was an odd thing, you realized. Jungkook never had never admitted to listening to Celine Dion, Taylor Swift, Adele, or any other musical queen you adored - he never protested when you blasted their songs through the car radio or when you belted out their songs during karaoke nights, but he never, ever sang along or reacted much either…. except for when he was drunk… except for when he was too drunk. And it was only ever when he was drunk and alone or drunk and with you. In front of his friends or to you when he was sober, he still pretended he couldn't name a Celine Dion song besides "the Titanic one." But you knew better. Between her iconic vocals through the phone, you could hear Bam’s dog collar jingling, Jungkook’s all over the place but still excellent singing and humming, and finally… sniffles. In the blink of an eye, you were in a cab on your way to his place, not hanging up and listening to him sing “My Heart Will Go On” and "All By Myself" over and over until you got there. Right at the brief moment of silence when the song ended, you knocked on the door, extra loudly and in your signature pattern, so he’d know it was you - but it seemed to only signal Bam, who obviously knew it was you before Jungkook did, jumping up and down even before his owner opened the door in confusion.
“Bamie-,” you giggle against the dog’s nose while he licks yours, Jungkook still disoriented when you look up at him.
“H-hiiiiii,” he forces a smile on his face after realizing you were actually there. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard Celine Dion, so I came,” you say, ruffling Jungkook’s long hair and plopping down on his living room couch. He’s still standing by the door, trying to realize the situation. “You must’ve drunk-called me while trying to choose a song, idiot. Or maybe you were trying to call someone else.” You push away the thought. “Anyways, I’m here to make sure you’re okay. And to see the secret Taylor Swift setlist later.”
“Ahhhhhhhhhh. I actually called you….” Jungkook nods, trying to remember if he did while you figure out what he meant. He chuckles, clicking his tongue before offering you the gigantic, half-filled stein in his hand. “Do you want some beer?”
“I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything crazy, Koo. Don’t make me a problem, too.”
Jungkook holds back a smile while grabbing a second microphone and dramatically turning around, his long hair twirling behind him. “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me.”
“Oh god, Jungkook,” you shake your head backwards. Were your persistent efforts at trying to get him to listen to Taylor Swift worth it if he was going to make such cheesy jokes? When you look up and see his scrunched-up nose and proud smirk, you have your answer. It was.
“Nah, I’m not done with my girl Cel-Celine Dion. You know, she’s a very good singer.” It’s only now, when Jungkook says the most obvious statement, do you notice how slurred his voice is. “I still haven't done these songs, yet. ‘The Power of Love' and 'It's All Coming Back To Me' - my… my drinking songs, join and let's GO!”
You watch Jungkook pace around his living room, belting out the song while holding his beer glass with an iron grip, and you can’t help but think about the floppy-haired boy in front of you rather than the not-so-careful steps and chugs he took mid-song, ignoring the mic in your hand. You could never count the days and nights you spent with Jungkook. It all started with the ‘Netflix and Chill’ nights. When he suggested it, you’d panicked until he insisted he meant actually chilling and watching Netflix - and whether it was cuddly, commentary-filled K-drama sessions or drunken fried chicken and reality show nights, you enjoyed every minute of it…. but more so when those nights evolved. As cute as though nights may be, they were topped. The caring, vulnerable nights where you’d slowly unravel a new emotional layer of yourself to the other and the moon - with no one else in the know… those were the ones that destroyed you and put you together again, all at once. You doubted Jungkook even had a deeper side to him until you both laid yourselves out in front of one another - little by little and without judgment or fear. You dreamed of the days the unraveling happened physically as well. When you’d see him during the days, and whether it was just the two of you or with your friends, it seemed as though the sun had an inkling of the bond that formed while she was away, shining a little brighter every time you saw his face, casting her beautiful golden rays onto the boy that shined just as brightly.
A confession forever rested on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip out whenever he flashed his bunny-toothed smile, scrunched up his perfectly round nose, or jokingly teased you. And yet… you never could say anything…. especially since you think you already did. It’s the real reason you vowed never to drink with Jungkook again - you could barely remember anything but the fleeting feeling of his lips on your forehead, being in his arms, and waking up in the morning in your underwear to see him shirtless on the floor beside the bed you lay on. Jungkook’s bed, you later found out - after a party he threw. You mainly remember walking into the kitchen and seeing his roommate and bestie Taehyung preparing breakfast in silence, which only made the morning more unbearable, given his god-awful cooking skills. You fled in minutes and, to this day, had no recollection or idea of what actually happened. Jungkook never said anything either, so you were certain you dreamt the entire ordeal. He stayed relatively the same, save for a few arm grazes that shocked you to your core - a little more than they used to. You almost consider forcing him to watch a K-drama or a horror film - just for the cuddle he'd end up giving you.
But you were here, watching him passionately wrap up a ballad and wiping away a tear that formed in his eye. He was unbelievable.
“I didn’t think she could make you cry.”
“Yeah, well, she sang the Titanic song too, didn’t she? Don’t you know me?”
“I do, Koo,” you whisper into the microphone he had handed you.
“It’s all coming back to me too. It all ends when I'm with you. And my heart will go on, Celine... You get me, Celine,” he utters as he plops down beside you, his hand outstretched behind you as he selected a song, neglecting Bam by his legs.
“Bam wants attention.”
“He always gets my attention,” Jungkook says, eyes fixated on the TV in front of him.
“I’m gonna use that line on you the next time you give me the eyes he’s giving you now.” Jungkook was always a master at pouting and the classic puppy-dog eyes, and in the split second he looked confused, you begin to wonder if it was never intentional. But he quickly looks at his pet and babies him when catching the dog’s neediness, giving you the freedom to grab the remote and pick a song.
“Remember, only pop queens,” he insists in a baby-like voice, his eyes and hands still on Bam. And you found just that - a playlist of nothing but tracks from pop queens, most on your regular playlist. Meaning you knew almost every word, and so did Jungkook. Two hours of singing later, Jungkook’s honey voice and your scratchy one both grew tired. Music videos it’d be, you thought - still in total control of the remote. By the third music video, you were bored - you’d seen them all before, while Jungkook - or more specifically, drunk Jungkook - was mesmerized. And in a flash you neglected the screen altogether, staring instead at the boy right beside you. With your hand on your chin, you study him. You never could when he was sober - his eyes would immediately find yours, and one of two things would happen next: you’d look away in embarrassment, or he’d would pull a funny face. But this was different. He was focused, well, as much as a drunk person could be, softly humming along or murmuring something about the camerawork or costume design - you could barely hear whatever it was he said. Sure, his face looked puffy and drunken, even in his dimly lit apartment…. but he was beautiful. He was beautiful in his side profile, his stare and concentration, the fluffiness of his hair, and the gigantic, soft, muscled arm he flexed beside you. He had no idea just how beautiful he was—just being.
You must’ve been staring for too long because Jungkook turns, catching you - as he always did. You expected it and waited for him to stick out his tongue jokingly, scrunch up his nose, or wiggle his brows… something goofy. The last thing you expected was the softest smile that crept up on his face - the wonder in his eyes remaining, the way you’d been looking at him. And just like that, you look away again, thinking you’d be able to stick it out this time and ignore his presence entirely or make a funny face of your own. You want to frown, but the stinging in your cheeks hurts too much from smiling at him.
“What’s up with you?” he giggles for a very brief moment before repeating the question with that same damn smile on his face. In your periphery, you see him ruffle his hair and you dig your nails into your skin to stop you from reaching out and doing the same.
“Nothing,” you let out, feeling his gaze on you as you looked towards the screen and Bam sleeping just beneath it. A whole music video later, the feeling of his eyes on you grew unbearable. He didn’t even look away when he continued to drink from the glass in his hands.
“Find something better to do, Koo,” you say, folding your arms and mustering up the courage to look at him.
“Hmmm?” the drunken, dazed smile on his face was goofier and sweeter than ever.
“I want a glass of water,” you say, looking towards the fridge, hoping he’d be a good host and stand up to get you one, finally breaking his gaze in the process.
“Well, I want you.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. As if you weren’t being tortured enough by his adorableness already... did the flirty side have to make an appearance? But it wasn't a surprise. Jungkook flirted all the time, definitely more than usual when he’s tipsy. It was so excruciating that you damn near scolded Jimin and Chan, the friends he’d picked up the flirting from. All you wanted to say was that you wanted him too, but he’d never mean it the way you did. The giggle he let out when you rolled your eyes proved it - he just liked seeing you all riled up.
“I’m thirsty, JK,” you whine, but he keeps giggling. “Yah, drunk boy - get me a glass of water,” you insist, poking his tattooed arm and letting your finger rest there - he winces between his little laughs, touching the skin and a little of yours.
“Jungkoooook. Don’t ignore me,” you pout.
You don’t know what it is, but something about those three words makes Jungkook jump up from his spot, his laughter fading quickly as he walked over to the fridge, covering his face with his hands.
“Don’t do that,” he mutters.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t…,” he starts before clearing his throat. “Don’t poke me like that. I’m old and sore now. Your Jungkook works hard in the gym and can’t handle it like he used to.”
Your Jungkook. If only you could send him off on another errand to make you forget about him and those words for a moment. But, alas, you were in his apartment. He was too drunk. Bam was stirring in his sleep.
Jungkook returns a freshly filled stein for himself, a glass of water for you.... and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses on his face. The ones he only ever wore at home, during your late-night visits, that none of his friends ever saw. The ones that always fed your delusions of the domestic days with Jungkook you wished you could have for the rest of your life.
“Sure, you don’t want a sip?” A frozen glass swings into your line of vision, snapping you out of your daze.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“…..Shame…” he whispers into the glass as he chugged down half of its contents before setting it down and hiding his face in his arms, folded on the edge of the couch.
“Don’t judge me for not drinking. Just look at the state of you.”
“I’m not. It’s… it’s a shame that that’s what you’re the surest of. What happened to being sure of yourself, hmm?”
You weren’t in the mood for one of your deep talks, which was unusual for you. You usually would jump at any opportunity to talk to Jungkook, even when he was drunk - like the time he spat out a life lesson he learned in the third grade you’d never thought of in your entire life. He was the only person who ever made it safe enough for you to express your deepest fears and insecurities. His honest and supportive advice pushed you through. And you longed for the soft embrace he always gave you afterwards. It’s been weeks since you had one of those talks, days before the night/morning that was somewhere between a dream and a glitch in the matrix. But you couldn’t go there. You couldn’t bear to. Not tonight. Not with a drunk, floppy-haired, adorable, and out of-his-mind Jungkook that was adorable as ever, laying next to you singing pop ballads for hours. It’d have to wait.... even if he didn't want to.
“Tell me, what happened to being sure of yourself? Your thoughts, your ambition….your desires and feelings…” he slurs, waving his arm.
“I don’t know, Kookie,” you let out, grazing his arm. You can’t tell him that you’re sure you love him in more ways than one and that you’re not sure what to do about it.
“If you’re sure of something, act on it. If you’re not, still do it. Better to live with regrets with lessons learned than to never know,” he murmurs, his face resting on his elbow.
“So, can I commit a crime then?” you try to joke and change the mood.
“If you want to, sure. Oh, wait, don't. You've already committed one. I almost forgot," he nods, taking another sip of his beer. "You stole my heart."
"Fuck off," you laugh, reaching out to pinch his thigh instead of the arm he told you to avoid... "We'll talk about this another time, Kookie. Give me actual advice then."
"Okay, but I'll tell you some now. Try being sure of what you want in life. Act on it. Start that business you always wanted to. But I’m thinking.... start with.. a smaller step. Get that tattoo you always talked about. I’ll take you,” he says with a clear voice now, smiling as he looked up and brushed the inside of your arm, where you’d always talked about getting a tattoo. “I’m sure of what I want.”
“As always,” you say with a laugh. “What is it this time?”
“I told you. I want you.”
“Oh shut up,” you say, lightly shoving him this time, but he doesn’t budge, not even a little bit, nor does he giggle as he did earlier, just continues to stare at you and try to hold back…. something. You assume it’s a joke.
“Jungkook, stop - this isn’t funny.” You reply before you could even realize the words he’s saying.
“I’m not being funny.”
You stop and finally look at Jungkook’s face. He desperately tries to avoid your gaze but soon can’t help but look into your eyes - his were dilated and red from all the alcohol.
“You’re drunk,” you spit out, repeating the words softly.
“I am. But I’m sure of it when I’m sober, too,” he says, fidgeting with his fingers before playing with yours. “I’m sure that I want you. I was always sure. And I’m sure I want to hold your hand.” You can’t explain why you allow him to do so, knowing his state, and soon, his fingers find the ends of your hair and the base of your neck, grazing the skin there while his thumb rubs at your cheek. “I’m sure I want to -” he whispers against your lips, and you can’t help but jump at the very instance you feel his breath against your lips.
“Jungkook, no,” you lean back, holding the tears in your eyes and hoping he doesn’t feel the goosebumps on your skin. “Jungkook, you’re drunk.”
He immediately lets go of you, and you feel the world crumble in that brief moment, in fear you’d thrown away the only shot you had at the only thing you were sure you wanted, clinging onto the hope that he'll forget it all in the morning. But instead he shakes his head and looks… confused.
“It doesn’t go like this. This is weird,” he drawls, looking at his hands, you, Bam, and the rest of the apartment.
“What?” you say, just as confused as he seems to be, ignoring a sinking feeling in your stomach at the idea that Jungkook was confused his attempts at kissing girls never went “like this” - with a rejection that you didn’t want to give him.
“It doesn’t go like this! I’m… And you’re…. You’re here, but…. you’re not wearing any clothes. Why am I? Did we not get to that part of it yet?”
“Part of what?”
But Jungkook takes a look around the apartment again before quietly murmuring to himself. “This is a weird sex dream.”
Oh. OH.
He continues, thinking he's asleep.
“We’ve done this so many times, and it never went like this. I… Can’t you at least want me back in my dreams? Why… why is this dream different?”
”Jungkook…”
“Shhhh,” he lazily brings a finger to your lips. “Let me recap. It’s the same. My apartment’s the same. Why is Bam here? He’s usually in the other room. I’m here. You’re here. Wait…. are you?”
“I… I am, Jungkook.”
“No you’re not. You won’t be when I open my eyes.” he pouts, hiding his face in his elbow again.
“It’s like… It’s like that time I put you in bed when I found you drunk in your underwear in the corner at my party after you just… what did you do? Didn’t you say you just wanna dance in your underwear or some shit? Then you… said you wanted me to see you like that. I tried so fucking hard not to look. I put you to bed, and I at least expected to get some reality of waking up beside you, but… you weren’t there.
And I wanted to confess last night during karaoke, with all your favorite songs but... I didn't think I actually called you. It was just practice. Then I was so nervous I drank way, way too much, and I must've passed out. And now you're not even naked in my dreams - well, tonight's dream anyway... Is it because of the stress? And wait, why am I wearing glasses? I don't have you OR perfect vision in this dream?!" he pouts, taking off his glasses and throwing them across the couch before resting his head on his elbow, in his hands, and all over as he struggles with the realization.
Jungkook stays like that for a good minute, giving you time to take in the situation. Firstly, you’d never drink unsupervised at a party again because what the fuck… But you quickly remind yourself that it didn’t matter too much. He put you in bed. He saw you in your underwear and knew that you - or at least a part of you - wanted to be with him in that way. And not only that, he wanted to see you that way too. He wanted to wake up next to you. And Jungkook, awake and drunk, thought he was in a regular sex dream he had… with you…. and was upset at the idea of waking up without you beside him…. again. He wanted to confess. If his hands on your skin hadn't ignited your skin, the touch of him lingering there, you’d be certain you were dreaming too. He… he must’ve really been sure. Who were you to doubt that? He’s Jungkook.
Your hand reaches out to touch his face, not even knowing what you were about to say to him, but it didn’t matter. By the time you look back at him, he was already passed out, the pout still on his face, buried in his arms. Still beautiful. Any gentle attempt at waking him up proved to be futile - and more for you than it was for him. The cheek grazes, the head scratches, the arm squishes - finally yours to touch after he’d been flexing in his short-sleeves all night long. There was no way it hurt like it said he did. Standing up and tugging his arm until he got on his feet nearly did it, and you had to help his drunken and dazed self all the way to his bed. He was just awake enough to lie down on his own.
You stare at him on the bed below you, and with the quiet chirping of the birds outside his window and the early sunlight streaming in below his curtains…. you knew this was the most peaceful moment you had ever experienced in your life, so you took it all in. He'd forget about this tomorrow, but you'd remember it for the rest of your days.
When you suspected Jungkook finally drifted off to sleep again, you reluctantly turned away from the scene and made your way to his bedroom door.
“Stay.”
You’re unsure you heard correctly, but he repeats the word.
“Stay…. please.”
Turning back, you see Jungkook’s tattooed arm outstretched toward you. Inviting you in.
With the serenity of it all and your heart laid out in front of you, it was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Especially since he wasn’t the only one that was up all night. You turn over the covers, holding Jungkook’s hand before gently snuggling into his arms…. and just like that he passes out for real, a soft moan and a snore escaping him instantly. You could dash out. You could run, try to forget the night and hope he does too. But you don’t. Because he’ll wake up. Because he's sure. And because you’re sure too. And you’ll be there to tell him.
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the-dreadful-bard · 1 month
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The Dreadful Bard Rejanis Fics Masterpost
Last Updated on Sept 25th.
Currently on a mental health break. Posts will be sporadic for the time being.
-
Hey! I've been writing a lot since the start of the year so I thought I'd make this post just for the sake of being well-organized. I'll update this as I write and post new things, both here and on AO3.
Adding a read more link because this is a long post. Here you're gonna find the links to all of my Rejanis works and the summary of each one.
Future works post (Please take a look at that if you haven't, I mention some stuff that's very important for you to know if you like ANY of my writing and want me to keep posting it)
TLDR: New installments of the series, new oneshots for the collection, multichapter fantasy/d&d au (summary for it on the future works post so check that out), 3 other multichapters that may or may not be written, plus a bunch of other shorter stuff as I get new ideas and inspiration.
ONESHOTS
Oneshot based on this:
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Under the blossom tree
Summary: Collection of Rejanis oneshots inspired by songs.
stuck on you
Summary: Regina gets home sleep-deprived and exhausted after a hard day at the office, but realizes she forgot her keys at work. Too tired to drive back to fetch the keys, she tries to get in through the window but gets stuck. Luckily for her, the fire department sends her aid in the form of one Janis ‘Imi'ike.
lyrics for a misunderstood mean girl
Summary: Regina hasn't seen Janis in two years because things keep getting in their way.
or
the one where Janis and Damian write Mean Girls the musical.
one thing I can't lose (kind of my favorite oneshot)
Summary: Janis somehow finds herself at Regina's door after the girl gets released from the hospital. Regina recruits Karen to decode her complicated gay feelings.
or
The one where Karen is a genius who can do no wrong, Regina is a feral chihuahua wearing a cone of shame, and Janis can't say no to her former nemesis.
feline disposition
Summary: Janis disappears and everyone is having a terrible time.
Completely unrelated to that, Regina rescues a cat from the rain in the middle of the night.
or
the one where Janis is a cat.
Attempt #19
Summary: Janis and Regina have been meeting in secret for six months and their communication is... not great.
Regina wants them to go public and get serious but Janis, convinced she wants to break up, never lets her say it.
or
the one where they actually talk after months of miscommunication.
Happy birthday?
Summary: Regina gets bad news on her birthday, which pushes her into acting like her old self with her friends. Janis won't have it. She has a plan to set Regina straight, but for that, she's going to need her to be willing to follow her lead.
lights and sirens
Summary: “Oh no…” Janis whispers, grimacing.
Regina glances at her with concern in her eyes. “What is it?”
“I think—I think I'm hallucinating. I'm looking at you, and I- and I see someone who can't- can't be real. Oh my god, I might be dying. Am I dying?” She confesses, still staring at Regina in shock, her heartbeat skyrocketing.
Maybe the pain is driving her mad. Or maybe death comes for you in the form of the person who you would most like to see one last time, to make the passing easier. She never thought Regina would be that person, but now that she thinks about it, it couldn't be more perfect.
Old stuff from 2019:
Hair
Home
MULTICHAPTERS
threads, oil paints, and textbooks - COMPLETE
Summary: Regina George starts a new year as one of Elizabeth T. Richmond Public School's teachers and finds out that one of the new faculty members is someone she'd been hoping to run into since leaving Illinois almost 16 years earlier. A lot has changed since then, but as everyone realizes, Regina and Janis still have a lot of unexplored feelings for each other.
The ballad of Moonlight & Solar Flare (pls give it a chance i promise its really good) - COMPLETE
Summary: Regina and Janis, as Moonlight & Solar Flare, used to fight crime together until something drove them to opposite sides, and their relationship didn't survive. Now, three years later, they realize it's not quite so easy to get rid of the love they once shared when a chain of events leads them back to each other.
SERIES
you set my world on fire
Basically, it's a continuation of the canon universe, starting during Spring Fling.
Summary for part 1: After getting hit by the bus, Regina is forced to come to terms with something she'd been running away from since she was a kid.
you set my world on fire (Part 1)
there's an old song (i wrote for you) (Part 2)
timeless like you and me (Part 3)
can't help myself (when you get close to me) (Part 4)
say you'll always keep me (Part 5)
you're still the one (Part 6)
uninvited (Part 7)
one that makes me sing (Part 8)
nothing in the world belongs to me (but my love) (Part 9)
birds of a feather (Part 10)
PS: new installments in the future
THAT'S ALL FOR NOW
Please, if you like any of these fics and want more of them, don't only leave kudos on my stuff, leave comments too! I don't care how small those comments are, just please leave some, it means a lot to me <3
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devilsrecreation · 7 months
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Since the ep is INSPIRED by POTO, I’mma point out the similarities and differences
Similarities/references to POTO:
-There are obvious parodies of the characters in the book/musical. Neema’s obviously the Phantom, Paka kinda has Christine’s role, Nne and Tano are kinda like Madame Giry, and there’s an herbivore with Carlotta’s role. Maybe a wild ass
-Neema pulls very similar stunts Erik pulls, mainly sabotaging performances. But he also has a secret lair in a water cave that he takes Kiburi’s float and Paka
-The Grasslands has a tradition called the “kupiga mpira”, meaning “masquerade ball” where everyone dresses up in costumes. Neema crashes the party lol
-Like Christine, Paka is a (rookie) performer and has a relationship with the Phantom
-I guess you could say both Erik and Neema had a hard life (granted, Neema’s past wasn’t as bad as Erik’s but still) that somehow affected their reputation
-He put Paka to sleep with a soothing melody (AKA he recreates “Music of the Night”)
-“[Why would anyone want to date a strange individual who’s killed people? That just sounds like a toxic relationship.]”-Neema at one point
-The reptiles like to refer to Neema as an “angel of music”
-Tamka brings up “the point of no return”
-Like Erik, Neema kills someone
-One of the reasons he sabotages a show is that a certain spot isn’t left for him. It’s HIS spot, no one else’s
-Neema and Erik both get exposed
-Both phantoms get affection at the end
-Neema’s point of no return is to either quit this double life thing and go back to being in Kiburi’s float or stick to being a phantom and leave his only family permanently. Although Tamka/Nduli think Neema’s gonna give THEM a choice to either join him or he’ll kill everybody, to which Kiburi shuts it down cuz that makes zero sense
Differences:
-There is no operatic singing in the episode. It has singing (the Grasslands are a musical place) but not actual opera. Also there’s no Raoul nor Persian
-While Erik loves/is obsessed with Christine, Neema is aromantic and has no interest in anyone
-Neema does not wear a mask that covers his face (except during the masquerade scene)
-Like I said before, everything between them is platonic and healthy. Though Neema DOES have a soft spot for her. If anything, they’d be QPP’s
-Erik and Neema haunt their respective places for different reasons. Erik does it cuz of his passion for opera and obsession for Christine. Neema honestly just likes the music. The hero thing just comes with it.
-Two things: it was completely platonic and Neema hummed the song since he’s mute and can’t sing. It’s more of a lullaby than a romantic ballad
-Neema isn’t jealous nor possessive. The most he does when he sees Paka with someone else is make sure they don’t hurt her. He’s more protective if anything
-my guy is not a teacher. He’s never taught anyone anything (except maybe how to stand up for yourself)
-As much as I love the scene, it ain’t happening with Neema and Paka. Way too sexual for them (and the episode fic) 😭
-Unlike Erik he killed someone cuz he was hungry, not to sabotage the show. Though everybody else seems to think differently
-He doesn’t kill anyone cuz of it, although he does cause a monkey to interrupt it by scaring him
-While Erik’s face gets exposed during an opera in front of everyone, Neema’s confronted by Kiburi’s float and basically gets exposed then
-Erik gets a kiss while Neema and Paka share a hug and a head pat :)
-Neema’s ending is veeeeeeery different from Erik’s. Neema doesn’t die like in the book nor does he completely quit being a phantom and not see Paka again. He goes back with his float in the end, but he continues to be a Phantom hero in the Grasslands.
There’s a reason Neema kept up the whole “Phantom” act and it kinda has something to do with his past. Neema was raised by strict, but somewhat supportive parents as a hatchling. He never learned to actually talk but his parents convinced him that being quiet was a good thing. “Silence is golden” they’d always say. “Just do as you’re told and they’ll like you”. It was like that for a while until the day he saved that lizard. Being referred to as a “hero” awakened something in him that day. He likes being some mysterious heroic entity, he likes playing with the Grasslanders and telling them what to do, he likes keeping animals on their toes, he likes the music the Grasslands have.
He likes being his own animal.
He’s been following and obeying his leaders all his life. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t necessarily mind it and he loves his friends, but it just feels nice to be someone now that he’s found his passion.
Nne and Tano found out when they got hungry and wanted to try something different rather than a mole rat or trying to eat animals from the Pridelands. They soon found themselves in the Grasslands and just so happened to spot Paka walking around. Just as they cornered her, Neema came out of nowhere, gave Paka a chance to run away, and began to attack the pair…until they recognized him like “Hey wait a minute…we know you! You’re one of the crocodiles in Kiburi’s float! What’re you doing here?”. It took a bit, but the pair finally figured out that Neema was a phantom and decide to join him. They never let anyone know since (until Kiburi basically forced them to tell where Neema was going).
Ever since Paka heard about this supposed phantom saving one of her lizard friends, her sleep schedule has been out of whack (seeing how black-footed cats are nocturnal) and she’s been obsessed with seeing it for herself. It only grew when Neema saved her and she went from wanting to see him to wanting to get to know him. Luckily, Neema took interest in the little feline due to her personality and shared love for music and began watching over her. He’s even led her to his water cave (where he hummed her his lullaby) and their friendship grew from there. She doesn’t really understand him so they communicate by yes or no questions until Kiburi comes along. Same with Nne and Tano.
Unrelated, but I just realized a pattern with my headcanons for Kiburi’s float: I gave them all desires
Kiburi wants to be good enough to make his dad proud like he promised
Tamka wants to be seen as more than just one thing (which is an idiot). He wants to pursue his passion and show he’s capable of doing things
Neema wants to feel like somebody. Like I said, he’s been a follower for way too long and he wants to find himself
Nduli wants everything to stay the same. He’s lost so much due to change and he doesn’t want to lose anything or anybody else, so he clings to his loved ones in hopes they won’t let go
Wakali wants to be taken seriously since her young age and albinism causes other animals to underestimate her
Even Makuu wants to show everyone that he’s changed his ways and wants to leave a legacy. It was the same thing with Pua, although nowadays he just wants to live his best life
Ucheshi got what she wanted in that Udugu episode I have-she got her big brother back :)
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justmystyles · 1 year
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Sharing is Caring
read my other work here!
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*
word count: 463
summary: you can't find your favorite handbag, Harry assures you he doesn't have it, but you see some photos tell a different story.
a/n: just a quickie blurb inspired by that snuggly picture of our boy that's making the rounds.
tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
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You’ve always heard your friends in serious relationships talk about pieces of clothing, or little things here and there that would go missing at the hand of their significant other, so you expected it when you got into a relationship with Harry. But they never talked about anything like this. 
Of course, Harry wasn’t like anyone else.
You distinctly remembered the conversation the two of you had last week. You’ve been at home in the states, while Harry was working on his album back in London. You were going on a night out with friends, and were looking for a particular bag. You couldn’t find it in your closet, so you gave Harry a call. 
“Har, I can’t find my black handbag. The foldover one, with the adjustable strap. Did I leave it there last time I came to London?” 
“Um…” the suspiciously long pause should have been your first hint. “Sorry baby, I haven’t seen it. I’m pretty sure you brought it back with you.”
And now, here you sit, scrolling through your phone as you come across some paparazzi shots of Harry out and about in London earlier in the day. Wearing your handbag, the one he was certain wasn’t there. You called him immediately. 
“Hey babe, to what do I-”
“Hey, look at the picture I just sent you.” You interrupt his greeting. 
All you can hear from the other end are the taps of Harry’s fingers against his phone screen, followed by a distant ‘shit’. 
“Baby, I…” his voice becomes clearer as he brings the phone back to his ear. 
“You told me it wasn’t there.” You cut him off again. 
“I’m sorry angel,” you could tell he felt bad because he was filtering through all of his pet names for you. “I just… I miss you so much, and it makes me feel close to you when I have it with me.” 
You sighed, it really was the perfect excuse. “That’s fine Harry, but you could have at least told me you had it. You lied to me.” 
“I know love, I’m sorry, I knew if I did you’d ask me to send it back.” 
“Well, can you?” You ask. 
“I’ll buy you a brand new one, you’ll have it tomorrow.” He assures you. 
You groan at his compromise. “So you can just steal that one?” 
“Maybe…” You can hear his sly grin from the other side of the phone. 
“Harry…” You chide. 
“Okay, let’s make a trade.” He suggests. “I’ll send you your bag, if you send me one of the dozen or so jumpers of mine that seem to mysteriously disappear every time I’m with you.” 
Your eyes go wide at his words. “Fine, keep the damn purse.” 
“Love you, Y/N.”
“Love you too, Harry.” 
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mochinek0 · 8 months
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Love Ballads
This was previously posted on my Wattpad. It has been in the works of being rewritten. Most of it is the original storyline (wasn't published) but also changes from the shadows. It will be a long fic in the making and will be posted every Friday.
"You will be dating an upcoming model, Lila Rossi." announced Gabriel, "Is that understood, Adrien?"
"Does it have to be Lila?" asked Adrien.
'Out of all people, why did it have to be her?'
"Dating experience is necessary for your future in finding a bride to uphold the Agreste name." his father continued, "Miss Rossi is new to the public eye and will boost your standing, as you do to hers."
"Understood." sighed Adrien.
"In light of this new 'relationship', you will have three nights to appear more relatable to the public. Let me know the days and what you will be attending on said days. Miss Rossi must accompany you on one of said days." he stated.
"Yes, Father." replied Adrien, as he was dismissed.
'What do couples do? I haven't dated since I was fifteen and I'm pretty sure there's a difference.'
Adrien paced his room as he tried to figure out how to spend his new freedom.
'I have three free days, but I'm stuck with Lila one of those days.'
He didn't really want to spend time with Lila, but that was the price of his freedom. Not to mention, he had to 'date' her. Lila had always been high-maintenance and he was sure somehting like going to the movies, wasn't going to cut it for her. Not to mention, he didn't want to be in a dark room with her. He was sure she'd try something. That was another thing he had to worry about, her lies and fake tears on dates.
'I have to treat her like she's Chloe. Chloe would want five star resturants and shopping so those are out of the question to do with Lila. If I took her somewhere in public, she could create a scene.'
"What do couples do?" he asked out loud, before inspiration struck him.
'Nino!'
Adrien pulled his phone out of his pocket and immediately dialed his best friend's number.
"Adrien, Bro!" Nino answered, "What's going on? Bored at another shoot?"
"No." replied Adrien, "Not this time. I actually need some advice."
"Really? About what?" questioned Nino.
"I have three nights off to appear more 'relatable to the public' and I have no idea what to do. Of course I still have to uphold the family name and all that, but-" said Adrien.
"That's great, Dude!" cried Nino, "I'm sure I can come up with a list in an hour!"
"One catch, I have to bring Lila with me." murmured the young Agreste, "At least on one of those nights."
"Lila? As in Lila Rossi?" asked Nino.
"Yep." Adrien eye-rolled his answer, not that his best friend could tell.
"Congrats, my man! Oh, I got it! Tomorrow, most of us from the old class meet up for karaoke. Majority of us are couples, but we still let in single people, so you can spin it off to your Old Man as a couples night." said Nino, excitedly.
"That sounds great! Okay, what else?" asked Adrien, happily.
"On Wednesdays we have a Guy's Night." the DJ continued, "The girls go off and do their own thing. Sometimes they go out for drink, other times it's movies, or just lounging at someone's place. I'm sure the girls would love if Lila could join them."
"Great! Where do we meet up so I can just give him all the details?" asked the young model.
"We usually rotate places, incase the girls do the same. We usually just chill out at each other's houses, play video games, chill out, and eat junk food." Nino said.
"Okay, I might have to spin that, but I can work on that." Adrien replied, "Got anything else?"
"Fridays, we have Game Night and I seem to remember you almost being a UMS3 champ. Basically it's the same as Guy's Night, but the girls can go too. It's been our way of letting out frustrations from school or work." laughed Nino, " Close to finals, it turns into study sessions, instead."
"Okay, I'll call you back in a bit to let you know how it goes and maybe to get more ideas." spoke Adrien.
"You got it, Bro." said Nino, before hanging up.
Adrien knocked on his Father's office, hoping things go his way for once.
"Enter." he heard his father call.
Adrien entered the room and waited for his father's approval to speak.
"I take it you have some ideas for these days." announced Gabriel from behind his desk.
"Yes, Father." said Adrien, "I called some of my friends for ideas for couples and many of them are old colleagues of both myself and Miss Rossi. On Saturdays, they have couples night karaoke. They also spend their Wednesdays split between gentlemen and the ladies. Friday's are game nights."
"A couple's night out will be relatable and will put your singing skills to use. This gentleman's night will also make you more relatable to your gender, just make sure you do not do anything foolish." spoke Gabriel.
"Of course, Father." calmly said Adrien.
"This 'game night', tell me more." the elder Agreste stated.
"It will be held on Fridays evenings. It is open to everyone. I was hoping to talk with you about relocating it to here, if you allow it?" answered the young model.
"Explain." said Gabriel.
"I was hoping to move this evening to my room. I am well aware I have photoshoots early morning on Saturdays. If I held it here, I could immediatley fall asleep after everyone has left. We can have everyone leave by midnight if you prefer." explained Adrien, "My room is also more equipped to handle a large amount of people and I have a vast amount of systems that can be used. I am told they use this night to destress and once finals approach, they use the night for studying together and help each other with their weakest subjects."
He could feel his father's heavy gaze on him, weighing this idea.
"I will approve this idea, for now, but your friends must be off the premise by midnight and stay only in your room, at a reasonable volume level." said Gabriel.
"Yes, Father. I shall let them know now and will inform Miss Rossi of our planned activities tomorrow." spoke Adrien.
"Very well." said the elder Agreste, with a wave of dismissal.
"So how did it go?" asked Nino.
"He approved of everything!" cried Adrien, excitedly.
"Really?" questioned his best friend.
"Yep. Oh, and I more news. He allowed us to have game night here in my room!" announced Adrien.
"Are you sure that's your Old Man." asked Nino.
"There are some rules." spoke Adrien.
"I spoke to soon." Nino sighed, causing Adrien to laugh.
"I usually have early shoots on Saturdays so everyone has to leave by midnight. We also have to stay in my room and keep the volume to a reasonable level." continued the young Agreste.
"That's cool, Dude. Still open to all genders?" asked Nino.
"Yep. I'm assuming Alya comes to these." chuckled Adrien.
"Nah, she uses it as time to prep for her classes." yawned Nino.
"It is getting late and I have a shoot at 10AM." yawned Adrien in return.
"Night, Bro. Oh, I'll text you the address to the karaoke place." spoke Nino.
"Great. See you tomorrow." said Adrien.
"Tomorrow." said Nino and hung up.
'I can't wait to see everyone again. I wonder what they've been up to. Lila won't be able to manipulate me with so many witnesses.' 
TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218 @stainedglassm @psychicdelusionwerewolf @missmadwoman
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Note
what’s on your personal list of “must reads” for wincest? i have a feeling you’ve got good taste
- @spn2006
i wouldn't necessarily say i have a must-read list as in everyone has to read something, because everybody has different taste, especially when it comes to sam and dean's dynamics (both sexual and otherwise), but the fics that i would heartily recommend that fall into my reading of supernatural (or adjacent to it) go as such, keeping in mind that I am a samgirl, pretty much only care about early seasons, and enjoyer of the family horror of the show:
The Ballad of the Invisible Boy + Two Headed Boy by @dollyluxed
If i had to pick any fic as a must-read for a samgirl cestie, this would be the one. the yearning and desperation speak deeply to the isolation of samdean's youth, especially how sam feels it, and dollylux isn't afraid to get inside the beast of teen angst, which makes it feel really lush and visceral. the 90s nostalgia is excellent (disclaimer: i was born after the 90s, but it made me feel like i was there without being corny), and the way the story is told through several vignettes feels a lot like the show itself. these kind of snapshot short films of how samdean's codependency develops through this unspoken tension over the years. the stanford era portion has a scene i think about every time i listen to joni mitchell (check out the soundtrack for this duology too; it's excellent), and the season 1 section ties together the story in a way that fits well with the show. a slow burn, really beautiful story, and i love the illustrations. i would also recommend dollylux's shorter works for amazing smut:)
@applecrumbledore 's fanficography
The first of Roni's fics I read were "Dream fuckery" and "Drywall dust" (the latter the first of a 4-part preseries story), and the balance of angst, sexual tension, and humor blew me away. It keeps the tone of supernatural, which a lot of fics don't (which is fine), but this was super cool in that it felt extremely natural, and very fun to read. I haven't been updated in all my fanfic reading lately, but I loved the beginning of Pine Sweat, their time travel fic, and "try asking," their pov outsider fic, is fucking hilarious and exhilarating. they have lots of creative ideas from preseries to late seasons and it never gets old!
Gospel Truth by @cowboyified
A case fic with an accute sense of shame embedded within angst, a really great sense of description, and perfectly inspired by art by @thegoodthebadandtheart for the reverse bang a couple years ago. the aesthetic of both frauke's work and the fic itself feel real, both the openness of the great plains and the claustrophobia of incestuous pining. definitely a modern classic.
"Buy You a Mockingbird" by candle_beck
the dark pov outsider fic to crown all others. candle_beck is an amazing writer and i also recommend all their work, but this one in particular stands out because of the horror of the dramatic irony of the story--what the reader knows, but the pov character does not. it's incredible to see everything unfold, and a realistic if bleak interpretation of another classic trope (which i won't name for spoiler's sake).
"Other Brothers" by @homo-pink
another incredible pov outsider fic with this beautiful sense of empathy and also a hint of adrenaline thrill. sam's cheeky and sassy and smart, and dean's cute and so in love. pov outsider weecest has the potential to be disturbing or sweet, and while this teeters the line, i think it falls into the latter category in a way that doesn't feel too saccharine.
"Three Days on the Rack" by keerawa, read by Reena Jenkins
I'd highly recommend listening to this via podfic! reena is great and there's a lovely cello cover of fade to black by metallica that plays in the interlude. anyway, the fic is an orpheus and eurydice-adjacent story about sam trying to get dean out of hell--but it's a torture fic. i love the way it describes hell, i love the way we see dean in the depths of alistair's apprenticeship, i love sam's strength. another gorgeously dark gem.
"Skin Like Fear" [orphaned]
I can't speak much on this one because I don't remember it super well, but it's a take on samdean after sam's hell trauma, something not very touched on by the fandom, and the horror is super well done, it's a great fic. obviously dark, deals with rape aftermath, proceed accordingly.
"show me again, shame takes hold" by objectlesson
if you can't tell yet, i really love preseries fics. this one is a lesbian femchesters AU, butch dean i love u foreverrrrrr. as you can tell by the title, more angst, more shame, etc etc. i was catholic what can i say. there's a lot about the ambiguity of sexuality and gender in this fic too.
and that's it! some of my other favorites are "Tomcat," the Caged Desires series, "The Truth in His Bones," and Brothers, but those i wouldn't necessarily rec on a wide basis because the first one is specifically about transmasculinity, and the second 3 deal with dom!dean/sub!sam dynamics in a pretty sharp way that everyone may not sit with right. that being said they're wonderful and sexy (and the last two, rather sad). let me know what u thought of this list!
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peridot-tears · 17 days
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Fic Writer Q & A!
Tagged by @dragongirlg-fics UwU
How many wips do you have currently?
2 for Lianhua Lou, 3 for Mo Dao Zu Shi.
Lianhua Lou
strings played against his throat, my whumpfic in which FeiHua's escape from Jiao Liqiao goes wrong, and Di Feisheng marries her to ensure the wellbeing of Li Lianhua, who becomes her concubine. Just updated uwu
My unpublished modern AU where Di Feisheng is an MMA fighter cowboy, Li Lianhua is his chiropractor, and Fang Xiaobao is the new sheriff in one of those Chinese towns they built purely for tourism. In this case, it's an Old West theme. Here's a preview.
Mo Dao Zu Shi
My Mo Dao/Percy Jackson crossover where WangXian and friends romp through Camp Half-Blood!
My Wen Xu/Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji AU where Wei Wuxian is adopted by the Wens instead of Jiang Fengmian. I swear I subvert so many jianghu tropes, this could be its own original novel, but here we are lol.
My two-part where Jin Zixuan flees to Lotus Pier and manages to alert the Jiangs in time for the Wang Lingjiao's attack. It's mostly written from Yu Ziyuan's perspective, and it's been a delight.
More Q&A below the cut!
Which one are you finding the hardest to finish?
Definitely #1 under Mo Dao. It's a huge labor of love, but I'm thinking maybe I thought too big with the plot. It could have just been a fun teenage romp, but then it turned into a drama that handles much larger themes, and the trouble is in being able to tie up all the plotlines I suddenly have.
What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?
Usually when I have two days in a row off of work, so my brain has had at least 24 hours to clear out and think about fun. I go into a pleasant fugue state, meaning I'm focused, but I can occasionally take a five-minute break to chatter about it with my frens or listen to a song. (I'm answering this post while I'm working on fic btw.)
Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?
Oh nah lol. I sometimes line some chill songs or ballads up in the background or like a Buzzfeed Unsolved marathon for background noise, but sometimes it has the opposite effect where I can't focus at all. So sometimes I just write in complete silence.
Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organized?
Balls to the waaaaaaall babeeeeeee. Aside from the ones that're born from me chattering with frens. Both my Lianhua Lou fics and #2 under MDZS are from very specific and thorough chats that I screenshotted for reference.
I tag @westiec @theleakypen @kingsandbastardz @tavina-writes @heyholmesletsgo @the-wintry-mizzenmast and whoever else wants to do this, how do I know this many people lol.
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izurusstuff · 9 months
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message from izurusstuff: hi guys!! i'm doing something i've never done before-- i'm writing a full-on fanfic novel. also, you may be looking at the tags and thinking to yourself, "wait, izurusstuff joined the hunger games fandom???" and the answer is yes. yes i did. the ballad of songbirds and snakes has been in my head 24/7 recently. i've been playing around with character.ai and reading fanfics on here, but its not enough for me,, i need a novel. a novel i can imagine from my silly ol' fingers. i want to test the waters here to see how many people would be interested so i can decide how much i want to put into this. this'll be my introductory post and i'll be releasing chapter 1 super duper soon!! wattpad is where i'll be posting updates first (inspired by my best friend, i love u nemi <33) and then i'll be formatting them here :)))
pls pls PLS be interactive and give a poor girl some suggestions, i literally appreciate it sm (u guys have my full permission to override the closed requests so u can infiltrate it with hunger games stuff)
this post will just be info about the series and the character's im adding so i don't have to write down summaries for every single person </3
-the bestest izurusstuff to ever izurusstuff
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Coal Miner's Daughter (Young!Coriolanus Snow x District 12 Fem!Reader)
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Y/n takes the place of Lucy Gray Baird in this fic. Some characters remain the same, but there's a fair share of OCs too.
Y/n is the District 12 female tribute for the 10th Annual Hunger Games, where everything is changing... The Capitol is introducing mentors, sponsors, and gamemakers this year. Things are changing-- and it's not necessarily for the better.
Y/n gets thrown into The Hunger Games purely because of her former best friend. However, y/n's ex boyfriend gets thrown in too... and audiences are loving the drama that's erupting. Back in the Capitol, y/n's mentor is disgusted with the fact he got a tribute from the poorest district in Panem... but y/n slowly wins him over.
Added Two New Characters As Of 12/28!!!
𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲:
。・゚゚・🧸 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 ⋆·˚ ༘ *
。⋆。˚。⋆.⛓ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 💣⛓.⋆。⋆˚
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˗ˏˋ ❝ 𝐎𝐡… 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞… 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞… 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭…❞ ˎˊ˗ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
─●─────────────── ⇆  ◁  ❚❚  ▷  ↻
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭:
❀˖⁺. ༶  𝐘/𝐍 𝐕𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 ⋆˙⊹❀
: ̗̀➛ 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮! 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞.
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 - ̥۪͙۪˚
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘/𝐍’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝, 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟏𝟐
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.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.⛓ 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 ⛓.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐭" 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞-- 𝐘/𝐍 𝐕𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞.
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⍣ ೋ 𝐋𝐞𝐢𝐟 𝐇𝐮𝐱𝐥𝐞𝐲 ⋆·˚ ༘ *
: ̗̀➛ 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟏𝟐. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐞𝐱-𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.
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 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟏𝟐 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐫. 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐞𝐢𝐟.
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 ✎﹏ 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 ✬
: ̗̀➛ 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟏𝟐 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐲/𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.
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。・゚゚𝐒𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡 ・🧸 。⋆。
: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟐, 𝐒𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐬. 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬, 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠…
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୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 𝐓𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 🎀✧˚ ༘ ⋆。♡˚
: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.
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`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐆𝐚𝐮𝐥 ༉‧₊˚🕯️
: ̗̀➛ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫. 𝐃𝐫. 𝐆𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠.
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⋆。°✩ 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 °。⋆🕰
: ̗̀➛ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬. 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦….
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🕸𓍊𓋼𓍊 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐞 𓆪 𖤍
: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰’𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬. 𝐈𝐟 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐚. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥. 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟐, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬…
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ˏˋ 🌳 °•*⁀➷ 𝐋𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 ❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ 
: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬’𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐫𝐞. 𝐔𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐋𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥’𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫.
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: ̗̀ 𝐅𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝. *. ⋆
: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬’𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲. 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲, 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐬, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟕’𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫. 𝐇𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡…
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‧₊✮‧₊˚  𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞 ₊˚ ⋅* 
: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬– 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 #𝟏 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬’ 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲: 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐬. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲…
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*:・ 🍓:・ 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 :・༊*·
: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬’𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥. 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟏𝟐 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟑 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬’𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝’𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞. 𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐇𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐬...
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⛓✧༺ 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐃𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐞 *ੈ✩
: ̗̀➛ 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐃𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟑 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐫. 𝐆𝐚𝐮𝐥, 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐬. 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫. 𝐆𝐚𝐮𝐥. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐚, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
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snowbellewells · 18 days
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Self Promo Sunday: "The Belle Dame Emma"
This short MC fic was my @cssns21 entry, and I tried my hand at a fae version of Emma and a knight version of Killian with it. It took a fair amount of inspiration from the classic Keats poem "La Belle Dame sans Merci", the lines at beginning and end of the chapters are from the poem, as well as from my desire to explore the Dark Swan idea from a different angle, with more of Emma's fighting back against those tendencies as we saw at first. At any rate, as I am going back through my @cssns contributions, I was excited to find this one next. I hope you will enjoy this if you didn't see it back then, and even if you did, maybe you will enjoy it again...
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Summary: Legend has it that the fae woman in the meadow will ensnare any who dare enter her domain, but the knight who chances a meeting can tell there is more to the story than superstition and gossip has allowed. The path to the truth and redemption may be fraught with dangers - to the both of them - but is it not the sworn duty of a true knight to help any who may be in need?
**Thanks a million once more to @caught-in-the-filter who made the gorgeous cover art for this fic! I absolutely love it! **
{Also available on AO3, if that is your preference}
by: @snowbellewells
Part One
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful - a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
Some folks say that she was always malevolent. Born to beguile and lure the unworthy to their doom. The fae, after all, were not to be trifled with, and those who dared do so learned their lesson at high cost.
The whispers around the fog-wisped edges of her meadow haunt, the word spoken as warning with anxious glances over the shoulder, was that her beauty was matched only by her fury. That she was possessed with a thirst to punish those who would be lured by her fair form and bewitching song. Those who were wise came to skirt wide around those fallow fields in that sparsely populated corner of the kingdom, for it was said that even those of stoutest resolve and pure intentions found this powerful nymph - be it by her face alone or some magic she wielded to draw them into her web - nigh impossible to resist.
Some retellings of her legend had her thrown from the sparkling court of the fair folk for her cruel and deviant nature. Others claimed she possessed more power and magic than any single faery had before her, and it had simply been too much - bending her better nature into madness. Still other storytellers would paint her more as a tragic sacrifice. The Fae Folk must have one who punished those unworthy of their own kind, as well as the humans who got too close to discovering their kingdom’s gates or who would dare to upset the fragile balance of peace between the two species - who might dare to think themselves equal to, and attempt to win the heart of, a faery. She was simply the one chosen to mete out these judgements. A Guardian and a Gatekeeper, as it were.
And though there is often a grain of truth to any rumor, very rarely do such stories paint their characters as they truly are. Not in full. And the ballad of awe and fear told of the beautiful, but deadly, lady Emma - La Belle Dame Sans Merci - was just such a tale. The whispers bore fragments of reality, but could not explain it all. Though she was not blameless, she was not completely lost. Perhaps there only needed to be some small spark of light, some reason for her to look within for any shred of mercy she might still possess.
~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~
The wind rushed across his forehead, lifting the strands of his dark hair from his heated skin pleasantly and ruffling his steed’s mane before dancing on to bend the grasses along the quiet roadside and tug at the leaves on nearby trees. It was a pleasant morning to be about, though the way seemed strangely untraveled since his turn-off at the last crossroad. Killian Jones, knight-at-arms, found he didn’t truly mind the peacefulness and lack of fellow travelers, enjoying the sounds of breeze and birdsong and mulling his own thoughts. Though adventure, daring battle, and quests of honor made his blood pound with vigor, causing excitement to tingle in his nerve endings and a sense of fulfillment in being where he was needed and doing what he must flooded his being, he could admit if only to himself on this placid afternoon, that he sometimes still wondered if there was more.
He certainly did not wish to change his profession. He would never be happy as a blacksmith, farmer, or tradesman; anything so mundane, necessary as those roles were, would never satisfy him for long. And yet, he had begun to feel the weight of many battles, the lives he had held in his hands, and the blood he could sometimes still see behind closed eyelids, had begun to haunt him. If there was always another fight, another enemy to vanquish, more violence and death and Darkness, were they making any difference? Was a glimmer of the light they fought for shining through, or were they merely treading water, waiting to be subsumed?
It was what had brought him to this quiet roadside meadow alone, rather than back on the high road with his fellows, moving on to the next castle and the next foe they needed to vanquish. He had called out that he would rejoin them further down the road; it was not unusual for one of them to split off on some personal venture from time to time. It was a life of constant movement, never truly being at ease or settling anywhere, and yet it made sense that sometimes one would need to pause, linger, and think for a moment where it was still and inviting enough to do so.
Killian knew he had traveled in this corner of the kingdom before - though it had been some time back. He did not remember the way this road had curved and twined, becoming narrowed and more removed from the larger surroundings as it followed a trickling brook along its way. The sounds of the village some miles back now, of other travelers whom he had not seen for some time, even the rustling of leaves and grasses and the twittering of the birds seemed to fade. A stillness encircled him such as he had never experienced before. It might have been unnerving if he had not been seeking quiet and peace to think, answers for the questions that troubled him. His mount danced fitfully on occasion, tossing his shaggy black head as if ill at ease, but Killian found he was too entranced, too breathlessly curious to turn back now. Plus, Shadow was a spirited animal and his fitfulness did not truly alarm his rider. There was a reason only Killian seemed able to handle him. 
The brooke, and the path following it, both turned again sharply, and Killian ducked to ride under the low-hanging branch of a tree, and when he sat back up in his saddle once more, the sight around that bend brought him up short. The creek came to a stop at last, running into a still pond, dark and motionless, and on the far side of the pond was some sort of cave, its mouth wide open as if beckoning those brave enough to explore. Flowers grew strewn through tall grasses, and all of it was waving soundlessly in the breeze like a beckoning sea.
Again, Killian found he was almost mystified by his own impulse to dismount and come closer. To seek out every secret corner of this meadow hideaway. He knew well enough not to venture into dark and unknown caves and underground passages, and yet the pull was nigh irresistible. He stood in wonderment, taking it all in as he stroked Shadow’s nose, soothing the restless gelding.
“What is it, lad?” Killian murmured to his horse, scratching behind its ears and trying to keep a firm grip on the reins as the creature continued to shuffle and toss its head.
Suddenly, the knight sensed he and his steed were no longer alone, a strong scent of apple blossoms and sweet honey stirred on the breeze and a chill ran over his skin, making the small hairs on his arms stand on end.
A dulcet, hypnotic voice spoke on the horse’s other side, a delicate feminine hand stroking over the animal’s nose caused Shadow to calm instantly. “Perhaps,” it offered subtly, “he knows something you do not.”
Killian had never known Shadow to gentle for anyone else; the creature rarely grew that still even for him, and the chill which had run through him a moment before now shivered down his spine. “And what might that be?” he questioned stoutly, not allowing any of his trepidation to show in his tone. “And who are you and what might you know of it?”
A form so fair, so ethereally bright and beautiful that he knew immediately she must be more than human, stepped into view from the other side of his horse. Long, glowing golden hair hung to her waist, twined with buttercups and bluebells, her feet were bare and gracefully shaped, her eyes a verdant green he wanted to fall into like a thick carpet of clover and grass, and the slight tilt of her voluptuously shaped pale pink lips somehow seemed to hint she already knew she had entranced him. The lady who had materialized there in the meadow at his side was breathtaking; her smile serene and inviting, her voice low and melodic, drawing him to lean in closer to hear what she would say next.
“Do you not hear strange tales of this place, warning travelers to be on their guard?” she tilted her head slightly, studying him as if bemused.
“I am a knight of the Realm, milady,” he replied, “Sworn to go where others may fear to tread, to protect the helpless and vanquish dangers wherever they might be. Seldom am I in one place long enough to hear all the local legends and superstitions, but even so, I would not let such talk turn me from my duty.”
That pale, lovely face continued to meet his own gaze head-on, not doubting, but merely watching as if weighing his response and gauging the sincerity of his words. Humming lightly to herself, she stepped away from him and Shadow, turning towards the pond’s smooth surface, almost as if taking for granted that he would follow.
Killian found to his chagrin that he had blindly followed two strides in her wake before realizing he had done so. Glancing back over her shoulder with arched brow and genuine question in her tone she asked, “Your duty brought you here then?”
Dipping his chin slightly toward the metal armor that covered his chest, Killian offered her a slight show of respect. He was not sure just where he had wandered, if he was trespassing on some royal land and this was some trick to ensnare him in wrongdoing, if he had wandered into some sort of enchanted space and she was a siren risen from the depths, or perhaps she was their next evil wizard or monster to fight, taking on a disguise of fair form to spy upon them and learn their weaknesses. As much as he felt a pull toward her and wanted to stay there speaking with her, there was at the same time a warring sense of unease in his being. The day was wearing on, he had yet to make arrangements for the night, and he had given his word to find his fellows once more as well.
“That I do not yet know,” he finally replied. “I broke off from a larger company at the last bend in the road. This meadow was so peaceful and inviting, and I suppose curiosity led me further as much as anything.”
For a time neither spoke, and Killian noticed for the first time that all other sounds had ceased as well. The rustling of the leaves and grasses, the birdsong and the plash of the brook into the larger pool were all muted; every bit of their surroundings gone strangely still. He knew it impossible, but for a moment it seemed as if he were frozen in a still life, unmoving, unblinking, like a statue carved in stone.
The beautiful vision stared into the water silently, so long and so deeply he wondered if she had forgotten his presence. Killian did not know whether to address her further or to turn and go, nor was he certain that his feet would move to turn from her if he did attempt to leave.
As eerily still as all was around him, he felt more concern in that instant that he had upset her, troubled or disturbed her somehow with his presence or his answers to her questions. Urging Shadow forward, he came to stand beside the mysterious lady once more, reaching out a hand meant to soothe or comfort.
But before he could make contact she whirled to meet him, her face a mask of pained struggle, her eyes wide and alarmed and so much darker than the jeweled green they had been before. Her voice was harsher, rough as she screeched for him to stand back, to get away from there. He didn’t understand the transformation, but he could see she was nearly vibrating with tension, trembling as if some force wanted to burst from her and she could scarcely hold it back. What had been a gentle breeze now howled about them, and the still pond was whipped into choppy waves. Killian stumbled back, dumbstruck, uncertain what was happening.
The idyllic beauty of his surroundings and the pleasant stranger before him had been changed instantaneously. None of the calm tranquility or gentle smiles which had lured him further in lingered now, and the enthralling vision before him now radiated tension and warning, her voice still rasping as if dragged over glass, saying that he must flee, she could only hold back so long.
Nearly as confused as he was alarmed or frightened, Killian shook his head, anxious to clear it of the doubt swirling through - had he imagined everything before? Or was he imagining things now? The anguish on that fair brow was enough to send him away for the moment, the pale maiden well on her way to enchanting him looked stretched to her limits, beseeching him to leave while he was still able. The chilvalrous knight he was fought against leaving such a one in pain or distress, but he also knew that he did not understand the situation, did not know all that was needed to act wisely.
And so, reluctantly, he swung up into Shadow’s saddle, his steed at least feeling no qualms about leaving. The beast tossed his head and wheeled to gallop off at the first mere prodding, hide quivering as he carried his rider back the way they had come in haste.
Killian, for his part, felt compelled to look back. For a moment, he could still see her form, curling in on herself slightly as she seemed to double over, and growing ever smaller in his view. The whole vista seemed to waver, partially obscured by a rising haze, until he could not have pointed out exactly where it had been.
Soon after, Shadow had carried them back to the main road, and Killian urged him to turn back onto it, to once more find his fellows, quite possibly in the next small village. Yet, though he appeared safely back on course, Killian could not forget what he had seen and heard… haunted by the face of the troubled maiden.
~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~
The faery, Emma, sagged in relief as the knight finally rode from view. She was breathlessly grateful for the mist which rose up from the surface of the pool, and the very air itself, now heavy and charged and hiding her from view, where before it had been so fresh and light with Spring. No wonder the man had been drawn to the small oasis. With the flowers and cool breeze and sparkling waters, her hidden grotto was made to be inviting, dangerously appealing. As was she herself - in form and face - or so she had been told when the curse was placed upon her.
Sinking to her knees in the tall grass, the thin blades and the faces of the daisies both brushed her skin if trying to offer comfort, Emma panted rapidly in effort to regain her breath. She had managed to hold it back, the dark power which had been twined with the natural light fae magic inside her. Her song, once capable of brightening skies, coaxing plants to blossom, and raising spirits that were broken or bowed, now would ensnare and entwine those same lost souls who might cross her path, draining them and never allowing them to leave.
One solitary tear slipped down her cheek as her breathing calmed and she contemplated the change wrought upon her being against her will. It kept her even from her own kind; loved ones who might ease the hurt and loneliness. For she did not know for certain if they were immune to the strange siren call she had been infected with, and she could not bear to risk such folly. It was horrifying enough to have almost trapped and harmed the handsome stranger who had stumbled upon her hideaway, but she would not surve being the death of one she loved.
Sadly, Emma finally managed to stand again, making her way slowly back to the mouth of the cavern where she spent so much of her time hidden away from the trees and flowers, the sunshine and fair breezes and springtime that she loved for fear of her curse withering it all and destroying others who wandered near, appreciating the same beauty of which she had once been the caretaker. Folly it had been to venture out today, and yet she had been unable to help herself, needing to see and smell and touch the bounty she had been denied. Then it had seemed the knight had just appeared.
Those eyes… a new sort of pang in her heart twinged at the reflection. They had been so blue, searching and deep, as pristine and sparkling as the waters before her and seeking to understand as if he sensed her pain. What an idea! Emma shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the frail hope. That could lead nowhere but disaster for the both of them. A proud, strong young life cut down for no reason if he did return. She was not sure exactly how her powers would snare him in thrall, drain him of life, only that the dark and twisted caster had proclaimed it would be so. She had managed to hold the welling of destructive energy she could feel rising within herself until the man had gone. And normally she managed to stay hidden well enough, removed from all others, that she did not chance unleashing it.
What had drawn her to this one? Caused her to show herself? Why had it almost seemed as if the knight could sense something was wrong? She did not know, and it troubled her, but there was no one to ask for advice. Quite possibly no answers to be had at all. She knew no other faery who had been punished in such a manner.
Turning to slink back into her cavern, Emma’s shoulders slumped. She certainly couldn’t risk being seen again this day; her strength was far too diminished to fight the poison surging to escape if any other hapless being discovered her. Such a horrible, unending punishment, for an unknowing, well-intended mistake, her spirit railed fruitlessly once again. How could she have known that bestowing her innocent heart in love would bring her here?
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose
@jrob64 @apiratewhopines @anmylica @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv
@donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl
@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop
@xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @kday426 @superchocovian @jonesfandomfanatic
@motherkatereloyshipper @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @lfh1226-linda @linda8084
@winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @myfearless-love @undercaffinatednightmare
@belovedcreation @ultraluckycatnd @drowned-dreamer @ineffablecolors @goforlaunchcee
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thatthingilovewith · 18 days
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re: wip game
care to share any thoughts on Currently Unnamed Livia and Sejanus Bestie AU?
(also re: Ballad of Who and How just wanted to say, love the Clue movie! One of my favorite movies growing up! Do you think you'll include a singing telegram person? If not, totally fine, but if you are/would think about it, who?)
Ok, so the Livia and Sejanus Bestie AU is inspired by @tumblingghosts Time travel AU where they become friends so Livia can spite Snow. Their were a few fics written with this premise around december of last year that I really enjoyed.
So far I only have a vague concept of whats going to happen. Essentially Livia and Sejanus are going to be forced to hang out due to their families business connections. Slowly they will become something resembling friends. Eventually after Livia's father has a heart attack while on a business trip to district 2 and is saved by the residents, she realizes that the people in the districts aren't the monsters she thought they were and decides to help Sejanus fit in and convince the others the districts are people too.
That's all I have so far thanks you so much for the ask!!
(Also for the singing telegram I do want to include them but i'm trying to figure out who would be funniest to just have show up and die. I'm leaning towards Coral.)
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take-it-on-the-run · 9 months
Text
Burn
Sejanus Plinth, Coriolanus Snow
Looking back at it, Sejanus should've seen his fate coming at him like a brick through a window
Word Count: 2.1k
Tags: Angst (?), AU where Sejanus lives and outsmarts Coryo, OOC!Sejanus (he has a spine), guest appearance from Lucy Gray
Characters: Sejanus Plinth, Coriolanus Snow, Lucy Gray Baird
Anonymous requested: "An au of where Sejanus lives instead of dies but finds out coryo betrayed him (his only true friend betrayed him and left him heartbroken/extremely hurt) so he goes home and seeks comfort from burning that photo of him and snow (kind of inspired by the song burn from Hamilton) but he burns the photo and then sobs his poor heart out"
Read it on AO3!
A/N: This was my first ever request! I want to thank the person who requested this fic for putting some faith in me to write something! I'm not great at writing angst when it comes to people I don't know a lot about (Sejanus) but I hope this isn't too horrible. As always, any constructive criticism is welcome with open arms!
Sejanus Plinth Masterlist | The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist
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Sejanus Plinth hadn’t had many friends as he grew up.
He’d come from the Districts, and his beginnings weren’t lost to him. His family, on the other hand, acted as if they’d been born in the Capitol and hadn’t only been there for ten years.
When he transferred to the Academy, his beginnings were certainly spotlighted by his classmates. People turned away from him, whispering in each other’s ears as he walked by; he was an outsider, through and through.
Sure, people talked to him, walked with him in the halls, and laughed when he made jokes, but no one close enough he’d call his friend.
The money that came attached to the Plinth name was a blessing, but sometimes it was more of a bubble surrounding him. People only talked because of his name, only walked because of his name, and only laughed because of his name. At the end of the day, he’d go home to a house full of nothing but empty people and return to a school that only wanted to know him because of the Plinth prize.
At a mere eight years old, he’d thought of disappearing for the first time, until a boy in his class sat down and offered him a gumdrop.
It was a small gesture, but compared to the ridicule Sejanus had been under for his first months in the Capitol, it showed him that there was at least one soul in the sea of vultures surrounding him.
Sejanus had learned the boy’s name was Coriolanus, but only his grandma’am called him that, so it was simply Coryo.
Coryo didn’t mind much of what the other kids thought when the two of them started to study together in the library, sending a brief, cold glare toward anyone who talked loud enough for him to hear.
He hadn’t known it at the time, but the only person he’d call a friend had come to school with that gumdrop for a reason, but, until their final year in the Academy together, Sejanus was content with the idea of Coryo being his only friend.
When it finally came time for the two of them to graduate, and for the Plinth prize winner to be announced, he knew this year was different.
Greed leaked from every last person in the room, including the boy Sejanus befriended all those years ago. Even when it was announced that there was a final test, one Sejanus knew was coming, his friend barely blinked.
“You will each be assigned a tribute from the Games to mentor,” Professor Highbottom’s voice bellowed as he paced in front of the group of students, “and depending on how each of you does in your mentoring, your chances of winning the Plinth prize,” his steely eyes flickered to Sejanus before returning to the group at large, “will be greatly affected.”
People murmured around him, being quickly silenced by Highbottom’s finger in the air.
Sejanus nervously shifted his eyes to his friend, looking for someone to see just how insane this entire idea was, but was met with the side of his head as Clemensia Dovecote whispered something to him. The both of them laughed, Coryo wiping the smirk off of his face with his hand before looking back to their teacher.
Looking back at it, he should’ve seen his fate coming like a brick through a window.
Professor Highbottom announced mentors and their tributes right before the Reaping was displayed on the large screen in front of the class.
Marcus, was his tribute’s name, and Sejanus tuned the rest of what Highbottom was saying out - without even having to look, his heart dropped to his knees as District 2’s Reaping was screened above him.
District 2 Male, Marcus; another boy who Sejanus had befriended.
When the camera panned to the young man, Sejanus craned his neck to look at his former friend. His hands were swollen, his hair shorter, and his clothes were the customary masonry uniform of District 2; but looking at him felt like a window to his past life. His face remained the same as it always had, the small mole near his right ear almost acting as a way for Sejanus to prove that this was who he remembered. Who’s spot he could’ve easily been in if his family hadn’t transferred to the Capitol.
Marcus wouldn’t meet his eyes when they met again for the first time in ten years.
He looked at Sejanus through the metal bars, at his hand outstretched with food, and turned away silently. He didn’t give him a second glance, even after he eventually accepted the food through another tribute.
Marcus didn’t even get a chance to defend his own life.
A stupid tour of the Games’ arena, meant for strategizing, tore that away from him.
The explosion went off, and in a flash, Marcus was gone. Coryo and his tribute were covered in smokey debris, and all the screaming made Senjanus’ head practically explode. He turned back to see Coryo pulling his tribute out from underneath the rubble, yelling at them to run for the exit. He spun, looking around for Marcus, but deep down he knew he’d already run; so that’s what Sejanus did; he ran as fast as his legs would carry him as he waived the exit route to everyone trying to escape.
In the days leading up to the Games, Sejanus let himself think - hope - Marcus had escaped Panem somehow. Done something he only could dream of.
That hope was crushed the moment he saw Marcus hanging by his arms on a rock in the arena. His face was disfigured, and blood leaked from every part of him, landing drop by drop in a large pool far beneath him. The others barely flinched as they found their tributes, waiting for an alarm bell to sound.
Again, he turned to the only other person he could’ve called a friend, for some semblance of comfort, and instead saw he too was looking for his tribute.
Sejanus knew Coryo had felt something for that District 12 girl, probably before his friend realized it. Every time she spoke, his head turned to attention, taking in everything she said. He wanted to pretend that he didn’t see their hands interlaced as they went to preview the arena, but he couldn’t.
Coriolanus Snow had a heart, just not one to share.
The strings holding his heart in place buckled, and Sejanus swore that his mind, body, and heart were acting on their own accord.
Before he could pull back his words like he had all these years, he was screaming at the rest of the mentors in front of their screens. At the stupid man waiving his microphone around. At the Capitol, the formality of it all, all of Panem for existing in the first place.
At Coryo.
“Monsters!” He felt blood rush to his face as he jabbed his finger at everyone in the auditorium, “all of you, are monsters!”
No one spoke a word, yet all eyes were focused on him as he stumbled away from the stage, his stomach churning and trying to empty itself.
Not one person stopped him from running out of the room, it was like his words didn’t meet their ears.
It was only when Coryo was practically dragging him from the arena that night, tooth and nail, did Sejanus thought his words reached someone. When he felt Coryo’s hands rip him from Marcus’ body, away from the friend his family had forced him to leave behind, did he think that just maybe he cared about him at all.
The rest of that night went down so quickly, Sejanus could swear it was a nightmare; if only it weren’t for Bobbin’s death being broadcast the next morning.
As he watched Coryo bash the tribute’s head in, over, and over, and over, and over again, he felt his heart stop. Not out of loneliness, jealousy, or even desperation; but out of pure, blood-freezing, fear.
After that night, Sejanus locked himself away until his punishment for breaking into the arena came.
Being shipped to District 12 to serve as a Peacekeeper for the next twenty years of his life.
A light sentence is what his father called it.
He heard through the grapevine that Coryo’s tribute, his performer from District 12, had cheated death and managed to win the Games.
What was he feeling in that moment? Joy? Pride? Rage?
Fear?
As he stepped on the Peacekeeper train heading to District 12, their eyes connected almost instantly, and he swore he could feel the blood splattering onto his hands same as the night in the arena.
He wouldn’t admit it to himself at the time, but he felt his heart falter with relief as he saw Coryo’s familiar face blankly staring back at him, curving into a polite, but empty, smile.
Even after they’d gone and seen Lucy Gray, Coryo’s performer, Sejanus still told himself that he meant something to the boy he’d grown up with. That, if he were caught sneaking away to talk with rebels again, he would come to his aid.
“What are you doing?”
It was a simple enough question, one that someone passing by wouldn’t remember seconds after they’d heard it, but to Sejanus, it plagued his lungs with smoke as he fought the urge to run, turning away from Coryo with an empty jabberjay cage in his hands.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sejanus stated, surprised his voice didn’t raise any octaves.
“I’ve seen you, meeting with some of the Districts, whispering, don’t you think getting three of them killed was enough?”
The violent scene of Coryo shooting down that girl like an animal, and the carnage that followed flashed in his mind, almost drowning out the noise of a jabberjay’s record button being flicked on.
Like a brick through a window.
“So, you’re going to pretend like you haven’t been helping out any kind of rebel group in your free time?” Coryo asked him again, this time, in a harsher tone that was more accusatory than curious.
Sejanus balled his hands resting on the workbench in front of them, turning to his accuser as blood crept its way up his neck.
“You have never been where they are,” he whisper-yelled to the boy beside him as he felt his heart shatter to pieces once more, “we’ve both got it all, so how the hell would we know anything about their side of the story? People are starving as we do patrols, and we can’t so much as look at them without being punished.” He took a step closer to Coryo, to the jabberjay he knew was recording them, “and your girl? That Lucy Gray? Her life can’t be too different from these people we see out here. I’ve seen the way you look at her, the stolen moments, the way you almost beat that Billy Taupe to death because he was harassing her. No Peacekeeper in their right mind would do that out of simple pride for their job, Coriolanus.”
The boy beside him faltered for a moment as his full name slid off of Sejanus’ tongue, replaced with frustration as his thumb hovered over the jabberjay’s recorder controls.
Sejanus left without another word, turning the corner and waiting for the sound he knew he was going to hear.
Crack.
The jabberjay that Coriolanus had tried to use against him was as dead as his heart was.
And now, as he sat in a small cabin far outside the reach of the Capitol, a friend who’d been deemed dead along with him, strumming on her guitar, he opened the box he dragged from his barracks that day.
A faintly crinkled photo of students, both standing proud in their red uniforms, stared back at him. He didn’t know what had become of the boy standing next to him; the one he called Coryo, then Coriolanus, but tears slipped down his cheeks nonetheless. The strumming of the guitar stopped as the bright girl across the fire looked at him with pity, not saying a word.
His fingers tightened around the photo, distorting the two people in it. He couldn’t tell himself that was him, and he couldn’t say the blond next to him chose the Capitol over their friendship. These were two different people, friends, who had only had one another as they’d grown up in a climate that rejected them both.
He dipped the photo into the fire, watching as flames crawled over the only reminder that once, he had a friend, someone who wouldn’t ridicule him for his upbringing or his standing. Someone who, if fate had allowed it, may have held their friendship higher than his greed for power.
Sejanus Plinth hadn’t had many friends when he’d finally grown up. Only a girl sitting across from him, strumming away on her guitar, gently muffling his quiet sobs as he let the photo burn to ash.
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thgfanfictionlibrary · 8 months
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Mature Rated Fics Masterlist (22)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 /
Created: December 16th, 2023
Last Checked:------
Little Deer, Little Sun, Little Coincidence-orphan_account (ao3) Summary: Katniss is less than enthused when Prim all but forces her to spend the evening at the fair with Johanna instead of with the twins, especially when Johanna's friend-of-a-friend joins them under the Ferris wheel. That is, until she recognizes this friend-of-a-friend: Peeta Mellark, the personable boy who went away to some fancy, big-city college six years ago. Obviously there's some catching-up to do, and more than can be done on a Ferris wheel, too, but being a single mother for nearly five years has left her a bit rusty in the flirtation department.
Miles Cross-Mejhiren (ao3) Summary: ‘And they that wad their true-love win / At Miles Cross they maun bide.’ Katniss holds Peeta through a critical episode, paralleling Janet in the old Scottish ballad of Tam Lin (often told as a fairy tale in prose form). “Miles Cross” is the crossroads where Janet pulled her lover from his horse and, by holding him through his many frightening transformations, won him from the fairies. Canon oneshot, post-MJ; written for the THG Fairy Tale Fic Challenge.
Rebound Girl-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen only goes for only one type of man. It doesn’t matter how tall he is, the color of his hair, or even his personality. What she wants is the man fresh out of a relationship. She likes being that temporary girl the guy uses to lick the wounds of his bruised heart. Too bad Peeta Mellark changes everything for her.
Refuel, Restore, Realign-JennaGill (ao3) Summary: Peeta and Katniss take a chance they missed in high school, changing life paths and testing family loyalties. “No son, it’s a family business. And blue means loyalty, family loyalty. It means obligation. It means duty. Values we Everdeens and Hawthornes hold high.” Mr. Everdeen takes a deep breath and looks me over once more. “I can see from your expression that you’re not following me son, forget the damn sign. It means my daughter will not date you. Katniss’ path is not with you.”
The Dreadful Beauty-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: She watches him, the beautiful blonde boy who has become a fixture at the bar/brothel she buses tables at. He just sits there and waits, and she wishes she knew what gave him that chip on his shoulder. Mutt is her name, and no one cares to remember what her real one is, or even notice her. She doesn’t care either, as long as she makes ends meet . But her life will change when that boy with so much to hide notices her. Everlark Fanfiction Inspired by East of Eden. Takes place in World War I Era, Monterey CA.
The Mockingjay and the Mutt-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: While taming a hijacked Peeta in District Thirteen, Katniss comes to understand a side of him that she had never allowed herself to see. Loosely based on Beauty and the Beast.
The Need for Speed-Peetabreadgirl (ao3) Summary: Race car driver, Peeta Mellark, is chasing his first racing title, but along the bumpy road he ends up lost, stuck in Panem Springs where he meets an enchanting, silver-eyed trophy of a different kind.
The Unexpected Message-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: Years after the war has ended Katniss has a fight with Peeta, but she finds an a gift that changes her perspective.
This is Halloween-bubblegum1425 (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen has been in love with her best friend, Peeta Mellark, for nearly as long as she'd known him. They'd grown together, carrying on their yearly Halloween tradition of watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and other scary movies, but this year was going to be different. This year, Katniss is finally going to use their time together to tell Peeta how she feels…if he doesn't ruin her plans first. College Everlark. Modern AU
We will call this place our home-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: “She closed her eyes, trying to hold in the disappointing sting of being duped. This man was indeed Peeta Mellark, her husband.” An arranged married in three parts. Everlark.
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