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#Posts that never should have seen the light of day
moonstrider9904 · 20 hours
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Drift
Part 2 of the Urban Flora mini series
Part 1 | Part 3 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist
Summary: Just after you thought your encounters with Crosshair would never happen again after that night at the opera, you run into him on a rainy day.
Tags: Smut (18+ only), flirting, mild jealousy, clit play, nipple play, vaginal sex, blowjob, cum eating, hair tugging, making out
Word count: 5.2k
Playlist: Drift by Alina Baraz
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The rain fell on the glass windows with a gentle pit-pat sound. You could notice the occasional flash of lightning from the corner of your eye, followed by low rumbling thunder of the distant heavy storm, though you were lucky that the most that had followed you to that café on the east side of the city was the softer rainfall, your favorite. The heavy layer of clouds in the sky made it darker than it usually was at that hour, and inside the little specialty café, the warm lights were turned on.
You sat at your usual table with your usual preferred warm beverage resting on a cup in front of you. You were leaning forward with one elbow on the table, hand supporting your chin, and your other hand was holding the small holopad with which you were surfing the holonet. You’d felt nervous for a moment about the holonet being virally flooded with pictures and videos of you with Crosshair the night before, but any coverage you saw of the opera had to do with the performance and the celebrities who were attending.
Lucky for you, it seemed you fell in neither of those categories despite being your mother’s daughter.
Then, as you were scrolling through your preferred gossip blog, your thumb froze to the holographic screen when you saw a picture of yourself sitting at the bar, and in front of you was the man of the hour. He had his back turned to the camera of whoever took the picture, therefore there was no way anyone could recognize who he was, or so you frantically told yourself. Even if there was, Crosshair was a soldier, not some celebrity or political figure. Maybe that would protect him, and by extension, you.
You wouldn’t deny that you stood by your sentiments from the night before—the time you spent with Crosshair, an unbelievably sexy, charming man, was worth anything—but you felt like you’d dodged a bullet, knowing there was already someone out there talking about you and your mystery man, even if it was just a gossip blog. Speculations and teen discourse ruled over that blog, but what would have happened if you had ended up somewhere with more influence?
You sighed. You hated that you had to guilt yourself into not being with someone as amazing as him.
With curiosity, you couldn’t help but look at the caption.
Spotted: Coruscant Senator’s daughter getting flustered and flirty with a mystery man at the Opera last night. Could he be just an escape from the loud, boring performances, or should we perhaps start ringing wedding bells? My sources say this man has never been seen at the Opera before, but if the front is as good as the back, we’d sure love to see more of him sooner rather than later ;)
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at the fact that the gossip didn’t seem to be anything more than you and Crosshair chatting at the bar. There were certainly no details about what transpired between the two of you afterwards. He wasn’t identified by anyone either, so no one would be able to reach him.
Your heart then sank at the realization that you didn’t know how to get to him either. You looked at the picture on the blog again and sighed. You were smiling brightly in that picture, and it was a natural smile, one of the few you’d ever seen in pictures of yourself. And as you saw Crosshair in the picture, with his elegant outfit, broad shoulders, and silky silver hair, you felt your walls clench around nothing at the memory of the time you spent with him.
You couldn’t believe you hadn’t asked him for his comm frequency. But then… he hadn’t asked for yours either. With another sigh, you saved the picture from the blog onto your holopad’s storage and turned it off, setting it inside your bag as you reached for your cup to take a sip of it before it got cold, and you enjoyed the rich taste and the texture of your coffee as distant thunder rumbled outside.
The sound of the rain falling outside got louder, and it prompted you to look up from your cup. When you did, your eyes scanned the café and you noticed a young man from the other side of the café looking at you. He looked around your age, and he was easy on the eyes with his full head of black, silky hair and a pair of admittedly stunning blue eyes, and he smiled at you when your eyes fell on him. You lips tweaked, barely forming a smile, as you didn’t want to give an immediate invitation, and yet again, your mind wandered to the night before. When it had been Crosshair looking at you from the other end of the bar, you had immediately let him know you wanted to approach you.
Regardless of whether the guy at the café was cute or not, you had a feeling the sensation you’d gotten when it was about Crosshair wouldn’t be replicated with a different man anytime soon.
Breaking your train of thought, you noticed the young man getting up from his seat and walking up to you, smiling gently as he approached you.
“May I sit down?” He asked you.
You smiled kindly and nodded.
The man took a seat across the small table and his smile widened when you two made eye contact. “I’m sorry, I really don’t mean to intrude, I just… well, I’m new at the city and it’s a little hard to find genuinely nice people here on Coruscant, but you seem nice so…”
You chuckled softly and reached for your cup of caf, taking a sip of it. “Where are you moving in from?”
“Raxus,” he answered.
You nearly choked on your coffee, but you successfully played it cool. Raxus was a planet name that was all too prominent in conversations you’d overheard of your mother with other people, particularly other senators.
“Really?” You asked, setting your cup down. “What’s someone from Raxus doing all the way here on Coruscant? Isn’t that like trying to mix fire and water?”
The man chuckled; the sound admittedly charming. “Yes, well… Politics brought us here. My family and I aren’t huge fans of the Separatist ideology, which quickly rendered us pariahs back at home.”
“I imagine,” you reached for your cup, taking another sip. “Fun tip, though. If you’re going around Coruscant declaring you’re from Raxus without being asked, maybe that’s why people aren’t being so nice.”
“I’m not, but duly noted,” he chuckled. “I just figured… you know, big city folk has a bit of a reputation.”
“Oh, definitely,” you agreed.
The man quickly glanced at your cup and then back at you. “Could I buy you another cup of caf? I notice that one’s empty.”
“O-Oh,” you stammered, but you decided to let things flow a bit. It was just a cup of caf, after all. “Sure.”
The man gestured at a nearby waiter and requested a cup of caf exactly like the one you’d just finished, entirely on him. While your next cup arrived, you and the man continued chatting about the differences between Coruscant and Raxus, and he seemed pleased when he found you had quite a lot to say about the strained relationship between the two planets caused by the Clone Wars, and your knowledge about senatorial procedures was uncanny. It was a pleasant and stimulating conversation, and you didn’t get much of that among most of your peer senatorial offspring.
Once again, you were enveloped in a blur of actions as the next series of events followed. Both you and this strange man were chuckling at one of your clever remarks, and a waiter came by to deliver the pending cup of caf you’d be treated to, and the next thing you felt was a third person rushing to your table and pulling up a chair for himself, taking his spot next to you.
“What are we laughing about here?” He asked.
Your eyes widened, and for a moment you couldn’t believe you were looking at him. The sight of his striking amber eyes and his silver hair with rain droplets scattered around it finally brought a smile to your dropped jaw, and when Crosshair finally directed his gaze your way, he winked subtly.
“U-Um-” Your new friend began, but Crosshair was imposing enough to render anyone speechless.
“Crosshair, this is… um…” You were gesturing at your friend, but you then realized you hadn’t asked for his name. “Anyways, he’s new to the city and I was offering some advice.”
Your new friend nodded, looking back at Crosshair with his big blue eyes widening nervously—you could sympathize with your unnamed friend, and you found it hard to laugh at all the things he was thinking about Crosshair and his sudden appearance, no doubt praying hard that this man who’d suddenly appeared at your side wouldn’t want to beat him up for flirting with his apparent partner.
“Y-Yea, that’s all it was,” he said, “and I wanted to thank her by refilling her cup of caf, that’s all.”
“Mm,” Crosshair mused, reaching for the cup in front of you and drinking out of it. “I see.”
“W-Well, I was just leaving,” said your friend.
You smiled and waved as he left, but you didn’t bother asking for his name. It was incredibly likely you would never see him again, and even if Crosshair hadn’t shown up, that would have been the sentiment with which your encounter would have ended anyway.
“So,” Crosshair hummed. “Do you make it a habit to come to this little coffee shop?”
“I also make it a habit to actually drink the coffee,” you said as you noticed him drinking out of your cup again.
“This is some good shit,” Crosshair gestured at the caf. “Specialty?”
“Yes,” you smiled. “I’d sure love to try it anytime now.”
“Right, of course, because this was after all a gift for you,” Crosshair teased.
“I’m not gonna turn down a cup of caf,” you said. “If you wanted to be the one to buy it for me, you should have shown up earlier.”
He chuckled. “Sorry I’m late, darlin’. Did you miss me?”
“I didn’t even know you were coming,” your teasing demeanor turned sincere. “But yes.”
“How touching,” he smirked at you.
“I didn’t need saving, for your information,” you said. “I had it all under control and I had no intention of going home with that man.”
“Is that so?” Crosshair purred. “What makes you think I care?”
You giggled and leaned in close to him, with your hand under the table brushing up his thigh. “How did you know I was here? Spare yourself any excuses. I know this isn’t a place you come into frequently because I’m here all the time and you never are.”
Crosshair chuckled and leaned in close to you too, and below the table, his own hand found yours and brought it up dangerously closer to his crotch. “I told you I love that you’re so smart.”
You cooed, biting your lower lip. “We can’t do that here, handsome.”
Crosshair leaned closer and gave your lips a quick peck, smirking as he pulled away. “I know a place.”
Every hair on your body stood on end at his words, and your eyes widened with anticipation and wonder when you met his gaze again. You remembered how disheartened you’d felt the previous night when you arrived at your apartment alone, having just let go of the most amazing man you’d met. There he was in front of you, another chance at bliss.
It was worth it.
“Now?” You asked.
From his pocket, Crosshair pulled out enough credits to cover the tab plus the tip, and he grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the café.
“Now,” he grinned.
You both ran out of the café into the rainfall. The street seemed deserted, as anyone who may have been on it had already taken shelter someplace or another, and it was just you and Crosshair walking quickly in the endless falling raindrops, and always having been one for romanticism, you pulled to a halt and tugged Crosshair’s arm.
“Wait!” You called.
He turned around, his eyes meeting yours, eyes softening slightly as he approached you wanting to ask you why you wanted to stop. To his pleasant surprise, you listened to your burning desire to throw your arms around him and kiss him on the lips. You didn’t care that you were both getting wet, and you didn’t give a damn who could see you. You grinned into the kiss, and you playfully whimpered into Crosshair’s lips when he lifted you and briefly spun you around in the rain, never breaking the kiss until he finally set you back on the ground, smirking at you.
“Come on,” he said. “We’re not far.”
You followed Crosshair across the rainy sidewalks into a cute little building, a motel you’d never paid any attention to. The décor was nice and the people who worked there seemed discreet, and there was no difficulty in getting a room. Next thing you knew, you and Crosshair were stumbling past the open door of your bedroom, your lips instantly falling on each other as it closed and locked behind you, and he lifted you up from the ground once more to carry you to the bed and gently set you down on it. Crosshair climbed onto the mattress on top of you, caging you to it, and with a seductive smirk, he finally kissed you again.
The night before on the couch had been magical, but it dawned on you that you hadn’t seen each other naked yet despite the immense pleasure he’d given you. You also reveled in how large the space seemed around you as you both lay on the bed—it was so soft and comfortable and warm and cozy, and it allowed you both to do so much more on its large surface than you probably could have on a couch. The thought sent shivers down your whole body.
His kisses on you were like fire. Crosshair didn’t just limit himself to kissing your lips. His lips also trailed around your face and your neck, even your shoulders and your collarbone over your clothes. Your hands brushed up and down his back, and at times, your fingers toyed with the short, silver locks on the back of his head, and that seemed to be what prompted him to lift his figure off you only enough to remove his jacket and toss it to the ground beside the bed. You wanted to follow, to remove every garment you had on you and be done with it, but Crosshair was patient. His lips continued to lavish every spot they could find, and you were so entranced that you hardly noticed when his hands finally began to tug at your clothes.
Crosshair was gentle. Slowly, he first removed your jacket, helping you lift your torso to do so. He removed your shirt and placed it aside, and you heard him groan into your lips at the sight of your brasier shielding your breasts from him. His hands traveled up your belly and your chest, feeling the soft fabric delicately holding up your mounds, and his lips didn’t relent. You felt your mind being flooded with the essence of Crosshair, and your lips sped up as your breathing turned heavier, suddenly engulfed with an endless desire of him. As you’d done the night before, you nibbled at his lower lip and tugged on it with his teeth, which he seemed to like, and as you did, Crosshair reached his skilled fingers around your back and unhooked your brasier, letting your breasts fall freely as the placed the garment aside. Then, Crosshair pushed you slowly onto the bed once more for you to lie flat on your back, and his hands didn’t hesitate to make their way up to your breasts.
Crosshair massaged your breasts slowly, his palms covering up each mound entirely. His movements were slow and flooded each of your corners with delightful shocks which intensified when his fingers began to lightly pinch your hardened nipples, playing around with the pace and the intensity of his movements, soon having you mewling under him. Every sound you made drew out his more passionate instincts, drawing a low growl for him that nearly made you beg him to take you now. Your heart beat even faster when Crosshair kissed his way down your body: your neck, your collarbone, your ribs—where he left a generous mark only the two of you would know was there—your belly, your lower abdomen. Hungry for you, Crosshair even kissed your inner thighs and your crotch over the fabric of your trousers, with his teeth ever so slightly nipping at your plump flesh, drawing sharp little whimpers from you that made him groan in anticipation as he felt his erection ache in confinement.
You were so aroused, you felt your wetness would begin soaking through your clothes at any moment. Crosshair felt it was time to take it to the next level, and he stood up from the bed, removing the dark, long-sleeved shirt he wore. You couldn’t tear your eyes off his shirtless figure, toned and lean, adorned with battle scars he’d overcome, with a thin trail of hair going down the center of his abdomen and concealing itself, teasing you, under the edge of his low-waisted pants. You were aware you looked visually hungry, but you hardly cared. The man was beautiful, and he brought out a fire in you that you didn’t even know existed.
You sat up on the bed and made your way onto all fours, crawling across the mattress to the edge where Crosshair stood. You kneeled on the mattress and went straight for his chest, kissing his warm skin and feeling his musculature under your lips, trailing in any direction your heart desired. You delighted in the sensation of Crosshair’s chest rising and falling as your lips traveled around it, and the movement intensified when you kissed down his abs. Your middle finger delicately toyed with the thin trail of hair the lower you got, until you reached the edge of his pants and there was only one thing left to do. You unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zipper, hearing him groan through gritted teeth. His hand softly cupped your cheek as you freed his erection from his trousers, feeling your mouth watering at his length and girth, and you didn’t have to give it a second thought.
You instantly went big, taking in as much of his length as you could, bordering on deepthroating him. Crosshair rumbled a low moan in his chest as he let his head fall back, uttering a series of curses in admiration as you bobbed your head up and down his cock. You switched between quick and slow paces, applying perfect pressure with your lips around his shaft, and you circled your tongue around his tip occasionally, an action you quickly noticed he liked. Crosshair then looked down at you again, reveling in the view of you bent over with your ass in the air, your hips emphasized by the rim of your pants, your breasts hanging and brushing against the mattress, your hair messy… he shivered. He loved the way your hair looked, messy and carefree while you went down on him, and he took a hand to grab a fistful of locks, tugging ever so gently as you continued.
The pace of his moans grew, as did the strength with which he fisted your hair. You could tell he was close, and you had no intention of stopping. Through nonsensical mutters, you finally were able to make out that Crosshair was trying to tell you he was going to cum, possibly as a warning for you to back out now if you didn’t want a mouthful of him, but you looked up and made eye contact with him, squeezing your lips around his shaft harder as you increased the pace of the blowjob, and soon, Crosshair was writhing. He panted, groaning softly as he tried to keep from squirming, until he was able to contain himself any longer and his hot ropes of white spilled inside your mouth. You swallowed all of it, unwaveringly, and then you sat back on your heels as you looked at him proudly.
Crosshair smirked at you, his demeanor grateful and almost worshiping as he lunged forward and kissed your lips with intensity. His hands wasted no time in getting you to wiggle out of your trousers, and he freed himself of any clothes remaining on him as well. You waited patiently on the bed as you watched him climb onto it, and Crosshair made his way to the headboard and the pillows where he sat back, comfortably, and he gestured to you to sit on top of him. It wasn’t what you’d expected, but you followed along and, smiling with excitement, you sat with your back pressed to his chest, his lips hovering over your right ear, and your legs spread. At that angle, you could see your breasts, your belly, and the top of your cunt. Finding a moment’s shyness, you looked over at Crosshair, and he chuckled in adoration at you as he gently kissed your temple.
“Wanna see what I do?” He asked you softly.
Your heart fluttered in anticipation as you nodded, and you looked back down at your pussy as Crosshair’s right hand snaked over to your folds, his left hand toying with your left nipple. He ran a single finger up your wet flesh until reaching your clit, and he rubbed quick, small circles over your pearl. Such a simple movement came with intense sensations, and you moaned in curiosity and expectation, particularly aroused by being able to see what he was doing to you. You wondered if he would take a different approach, but he remained solely with his finger rubbing over your clit—it wasn’t as if he needed much more. Soon, you were beginning to see stars around you, and your breathing gradually got heavier. Tiny, foreboding waves of sparks coursed through you during the buildup, hinting at how breathtaking the pleasure would be once you reached the peak, but you had a feeling nothing could prepare you for that.
You remained astonished at how the little rubbing could be sending you directly into paradise, and then the time was right, and you were pushed off the edge into climax, squirming in Crosshair’s grip. You watched his finger speeding up on your clit throughout your orgasm until the pleasure was too intense, and you closed your eyes, leaning back on Crosshair for support. You didn’t make sense of anything he muttered into your ear, only of how alluring and ethereal his voice sounded, and how well it went with each wave of pleasure rapidly spreading through your body. And Crosshair continued, dragging out your orgasm as much as your body could withstand, until he retrieved his touch from you and you were left a panting, dazed, sweaty, and flustered mess on top of him.
You heard Crosshair laughing low and sexy. “So cute.”
You shifted your body, turning around, and you kissed his lips hungrily. Crosshair’s hands planted themselves firmly at your hamstrings, lifting you up for you to straddle him as he sat up straighter, supporting his back with the pillows and headboard behind him. You didn’t have to think twice about sinking down his long, hard cock, hypnotized by the sheer magnificence of the stretching inside of your walls. You moaned long and silky, the sound filling the room, complemented by a low groan from Crosshair at your warmth and wetness submerging him. You inched your torso forward, leaning on him, looking down at him as your hands cupped the sides of his face and your forehead rested on his. Crosshair held your lower back with one hand, and his other arm curled around your shoulder for his hand to hold the back of your head, clutching your hair. You both made eye contact as you slid up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but smirk each time you felt Crosshair pulse and twitch inside you.
Your pace was steady, never in a rush, letting you both feel everything there was to feel. Inundated by how amazing he was, you leaned forward to kiss Crosshair with passion, closing your eyes as you let the sensations guide you. There were moments when Crosshair’s lips deviated from yours, nipping at your chin, your jawline, and your neck, and the speed of his lips around your skin grew with the pace of his breath the closer he got to his release. You made eye contact with him again when the rhythm of your bouncing increased, both of you panting, and your high-pitched whimpers exquisitely enticing him into bliss. Your whimpers turned into moans, and your full weight rested forward on him as you held him tighter than ever, and Crosshair grunted until his release spilled inside your walls.
Your bodies softened, but Crosshair’s grip remained strong as he helped you off him and onto the mattress beside him. You were both now lying on the bed, facing each other, and he didn’t hesitate to let his lips fall on yours. You both kissed each other heavenly, with your hands continuing to explore each other’s bodies leaving no surface untouched. You were intimately pressed together, entwined, lacking any space between your figure and his, and you easily lost track of the time that passed. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours, but it made no difference.
You had never felt like that before. On a physical level, surely, no pleasure from anyone had ever been that great, but on an inner level… you found your soul aching for him. You were astounded at how quickly Crosshair could become your everything, but it was a feeling you welcomed even if it were to ruin you the very next day. He ruled your thoughts, your body, your heart. You always wanted to be around him.
You were lying on the bed staring at each other, and only then did you notice that the rain had stopped. You sat up on the bed and reached for your holopad on the nightstand, checking the time, and you held in a gasp.
“Crud, I think I have to go,” you said. “I’m expected at the senate.”
“What do you do there?” Crosshair sat back on the pillows with his hands behind his head, the pose inviting you in for another round of drawing your lips on whichever parts of his skin you could touch. You blushed at the sight of him, painfully drawn to him, but alas, your margin for sweet cuddles post lovemaking had nearly disappeared.
You chuckled. “This time around, I’m only going to help in a series of meetings. Nothing major, but I did promise I’d be there.”
Before reaching for your clothes, you knew you didn’t want to seem too eager to leave despite being late. You crawled up to Crosshair on the bed and softly kissed his lips, staring gently into his eyes afterwards.
“Crosshair?”
“Mm?” He smirked.
“Please promise me we’ll meet again,” you muttered, hopeful.
Crosshair straightened up, chuckling, and he reached for your holopad. On it, he dialed his frequency and saved it, and then he handed it back to you.
“Whenever you want,” he said. “Well, almost.”
“Right…” your heart sank at the thought of him being shipped back off to the war. “When do you leave?”
“Day after tomorrow, at night,” he replied.
You nodded slowly. “I’ll see you before then.”
He smiled confidently, and he gave you a brief nod. “You got it.”
You smiled sadly at him in response. “Let’s get dressed. I’ll wait for you.”
“No, you should go,” he chuckled, and then exhaled heavily. “I still kind of need a minute.”
You chuckled. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“Nah, it’s not a problem, doll,” he said. “Now go, I don’t want you to get grounded.”
You laughed at his remark and got off the bed. Crosshair watched as you got dressed, enjoying every movement you made, until you were fully clothed and all that was left was for you to fluff your hair. When you were done, you met his gaze and approached him to kiss his lips softly one last time, and after a longing stare, you were out the door headed towards the rest of your day.
Crosshair gathered himself for a few more minutes on that bed, pondering on every memory he’d just made. When he was finally in shape again, he got dressed and left a few credits on the nightstand as a tip, then he discreetly made his way out of the hotel and into the outside world.
It was still cloudy, but the rain had stopped, and the air had that chill that Crosshair had a feeling you loved. He would have probably liked to talk to you about it, but you were already well on your way in your decided route, but the difference that time was that now he didn’t have to resort to some random gossip blog to cross paths with you. Crosshair smirked at the thought—he just might hit you up that same night if you weren’t already busy.
But as he walked, Crosshair suddenly got a feeling, courtesy of his sharpshooting instincts. He stopped in his tracks, and just as he suspected, someone unknown to him leapt out in front, blocking his way.
“OH, MY STARS, IT’S YOU!”
Crosshair straightened up again and he let go of any fighting instincts when he realized it was a simple girl. A human girl, no older than sixteen years old, dressed in expensive designer clothes with an elaborate hairdo in her blond locks, wearing far too much makeup for a child.
“Kid, get back to your parents,” Crosshair said.
“SMILE!” The teenage girl aimed her holopad at Crosshair and snapped a holo of him.
“What the hell?!” Crosshair growled. “Why the hell did you just do that?”
“Um, you’re the man of the hour, duh!” The teenager answered. “Don’t tell me you only read Scandal Gal to find out where the senator’s daughter was!”
“What—”
“Unless she actually asked you to meet her at the café?” The girl’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, that’s so romantic! Where is she now?”
“Leave me alone, kid,” Crosshair began walking around her. “And erase that picture.”
“You look good in it,” the girl said. “I’m gonna send it to Scandal Gal and now everyone’s finally gonna know what Sweetie’s mystery man looks like!”
“Sweetie?”
“Yeah, it’s what everyone’s calling her!”
“Whatever, kid, erase that holo and don’t send it anywhere,” Crosshair said.
“Can’t make me!” The girl stuck her tongue out at him in defiance.
Crosshair rolled his eyes. So, a pic of him would end up in Scandal Gal. It’s not like anyone important read that anyway.
“Whatever,” he repeated, finally making his way far from the kid. “Good day.”
Even as a soldier and a sniper, Crosshair had seen or experienced few things as weird as the one that just happened. He figured big city folk with money to waste needed to find some sort of entertainment when survival wasn’t their priority. And yet, somehow, you weren’t like that. You weren’t a spoiled little brat who couldn’t care less about others’ boundaries. You were clever, you were kind, you were funny, and absolutely beautiful.
You were you, and that thought was enough to get him through the chilly walk alone back to base.
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Next chapter -> (coming June 4th!)
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kylobith · 21 hours
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Memory Lane
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Characters: Astarion, Tav, Rolan, Wyll, Astarion's parents, Karlach, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel
Tav: Gender-neutral/Non-binary Half-Drow Sorcerer
Tropes: Angst, Friendship, Platonic Relationship, Found family, Healing
Word count: 10,605 Read here on Ao3
Summary: Now that Faerûn is saved from the Absolute and everybody is learning to resume their lives, Astarion is submerged by a desire to recover memories from his past. Before Cazador, before his transformation. And Tav is determined to help him.
Could it be that there is somebody out there still waiting for him?
(Inspired by this post by @a-darling-thing)
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Everyone is safe.
The streets of Baldur’s Gate bustle anew in the late hours. Taverns and inns have long been rebuilt as havens of peace after the narrowly avoided end of the world. Some have complained that their restoration has been privileged over the many homes lost. Others claim that it is a question of boosting morale amid darkness. No matter your opinion, if you venture the streets of Baldur’s Gate, you will hear cheers and songs belted out by souls who have seen too much gloom. Most lost dear ones. Most looked death in the eyes and got to live another day.
Everyone is safe.
There has been word from other lands that life is resuming and prosperous. The Shadow-cursed Lands were given breath again by the light of the Nightsong, and a small group has been working relentlessly to make it liveable again. No good-hearted soul should be barred from settling there, they believe, and they know that, soon, children’s laughter will fill the air again along birdsong.
Everyone is safe.
But not all are sane.
Sat in one of the red armchairs of Sharess’ Caress with his gaze empty, Astarion drowns his boredom and anguish in exquisite wine. Swirling the rich burgundy nectar inside his glass, he lets out yet another sigh, not bothering to acknowledge salutations from grateful survivors who recognise one of the city’s saviours.
There is a dimness to his ruby eyes that has not faded since he was rid of the tadpole gnawing at his brain. Shadowheart has never questioned him about it—she was never one to pry, after all. How could he even put the words on this ache that has seeped so deeply within him that it planted its claws into his bones?
No matter how often he has attempted to clear his mind for a good rest, it creeps back in and churns his guts with an uneasy anguish. It has been weeks since he last tranced for a full day or night. Most of the time, he finds himself staring at the ceiling with his eyes wide open.
And he drinks.
Drinks again.
Until the feeling becomes somewhat dulled.
But not quite.
Around the corner, a silhouette enters the corridor, passing by the few groups of talkative people. It heads straight towards Astarion, and he deliberately ignores it. He would recognise the aroma of this blood in a crowd of thousands. As they sit in the empty chair beside him, he sighs and chugs the rest of his wine. He tosses the empty glass onto the table and decides to take full swigs from the bottle instead.
Screw appearances. For once.
‘You look like shit.’
Astarion scoffs.
‘Good evening to you too, darling,’ he muses sarcastically.
Tav rolls their eyes and leans back into the armchair, drinking from a foamy mug of ale. Since the vampire does not utter a single word, uninterested in carrying out this conversation if it started this way, they decide to take the matter into their own hands.
‘Astarion, you look like you haven’t had proper rest since the Nautiloid. What’s going on? Really going on?’
At last, the pale elf casts a cold glance towards their former travel companion. He wants to play coy as he always does, sweet talk his way out of this conversation and possibly make his way downstairs to pay for company to warm his sheets. After all, that has always been the only way for him to not feel. Ministrations betwixt the sheets always do the trick. Dissociating would perhaps allow him to sleep soundly at last. Lose touch with his hurt by twisting the dagger into old ones whose pain he has long grown accustomed to.
But his tongue burns with the will to spill out all the words entrapped in his silent heart. That lump that has been occupying his throat for weeks now threatens to rupture.
Tav is safe. He tries to remind himself of that every so often when he catches himself spiralling with nightmares and terrors that leave him in dire want of a friend to vent to.
When has Tav ever let him down? Without them, he would not have fed properly for the first time in two centuries. He would never have survived the tadpole on his own. His hubris and unbridled cockiness would have caused his death at the first encounter out of the Nautiloid. But Tav has never minded.
Tav accepts him. Perhaps too blindly at times, truth be told. But they give him the space he needs to explore his newfound freedom. When sewer creatures and rats fail to fill his belly, Tav always offers some of their blood to keep him alert and healthy until they can find something better on the surface. They buy books in the city to keep him company when the sunlight makes his city hostile to his very existence. They often keep him updated on life out there, and even on gossip they could not care less about, but they know will keep him occupied for a few hours.
In other words, Tav is the only person he could ever express his distress to. Only they could understand.
Astarion groans and slams the empty wine bottle on the table, making the toppled glass quiver.
‘I know it’s stupid, alright?’ he starts with a disgruntled expression etched onto his refined traits. ‘Ever since we saved the city and killed Cazador, all I’ve been craving is to move on. To start over, I suppose. But…’
Attempting to find the right words to express his angst, he clicks his tongue.
‘Now that almost all is possible, that I’ve got eternity ahead of me, I can’t stop thinking about who I was before it all. Before the Gurs attacked me that fateful night and Cazador found me.’
Tav wipes some foam sticking to their upper lip with the back of their sleeve, which, honestly, makes Astarion want to screech considering that their garment is made of silk.
‘You mean your past when you were still alive?’
‘Is that not what I said?!’ Astarion snaps, before exhaling slowly. ‘My apologies. I’m still trying to figure out what I want.’
His friend listens attentively and considers his words. It does not surprise them in the least to hear this plea of his. If anything, they have been wondering when he would eventually voice this desire to uncover his past. As much as the vampire strives to build a secure and comfortable future for himself despite his predicament, he is somebody who inherently lives in the past. Nobody can blame him for that. Tav certainly does not.
‘What is it you want to know about your past, exactly?’
Astarion’s eyebrows raise and crease his forehead. In all honesty, he has never thought about that. The lack of memories is usually what he broods over, but never has he thought of questions he would seek answers to if, suddenly, all his memories could be restored. Would he like to know what his favourite dish was? Would he rather remember his usual schedule and routines? Or, perhaps, would he prefer to reminisce about what made him feel alive then?
As one of the waitresses passes in the corridor, Tav orders another bottle of red for him. Before long, an uncorked bottle of elegant Waterdhavian spirits is placed in front of him, beside a clean cup. Without waiting for him to reach out, they serve him a glass and bring the chalice to his hand.
‘I think I want to know about the people who raised me,’ he mumbles with a frown. ‘It’s silly, I know, but I wonder if I still have family out there.’
Tav smiles and gently clinks their mug against his cup.
‘It’s not silly at all, Astarion. They could tell you stories of your youth, and help you remember. And I’m sure that they would provide for you and introduce you to members of your clan whose births you missed.’
Astarion exhales sharply out of his nose with a corner of his lips raised. His eyes roll towards Tav.
‘You’re indulging me again.’
‘Indulging you in what, exactly? Supporting you in wanting to rediscover your path is hardly indulging you. It’s not a far-fetched wish, I’ll have you know.’
They grin at each other and drink.
‘Even if I wanted to go down this road, I wouldn’t know where to start. Besides, my situation doesn’t quite allow me to investigate either.’
With a shrug, Tav sets down their ale on the table, belching before leaning back.
‘I could look for them for you. Tell me anything you remember, and I’ll work from there.’
Astarion cocks an eyebrow again and stares at them for longer than he thinks.
‘You would do that? For me? But what’s in it for you?’
‘If you still think I do stuff for you for my own gain, then what’s our whole adventure been for? Perhaps I just want to see you happy, ever thought about that?’
‘Hah. I don’t know if I want to be happy myself. There wouldn’t be anything left to improve.’
‘I suppose. But your heart would be lighter,’ they insist, poking his arm. ‘Come on, Starry, let me help you. Do you remember anything?’
The pale elf sighs and chugs his first cup of Waterdhavian red, exhaling as it coats his tongue and drops down his throat.
‘Ancunín.’
It is the half-drow’s turn to eye him curiously.
‘Sorry?’
The vampire runs a hand through his hair, still staring into emptiness.
‘Ancunín. It was my surname, once.’
‘A pretty one at that.’
Amused by the compliment, he clicks his tongue again and playfully rolls his eyes. He tosses a leg over the other and shakes his foot.
‘And I’m the smooth talker?’
‘Most of the time,’ Tav responds with a snort. ‘Ancunín, then… Very well. I’ll start from there.’
The next morning, when the city rouses from its slumber, Tav is already out and about, determined to find anything about Astarion’s family. Since a part of the city’s archives have been displaced until the building in the Upper City is fully rebuilt, their first instinct is to head to one of the centres of knowledge in all of the city.
As they cross the threshold of Sorcerous Sundries, they are welcomed at the reception by a familiar figure.
‘Welcome to Sorcer—oh! By the gods, Tav, it is good to see you here!’
Tav grins and embraces the tiefling, who leans over the counter, nearly climbing on it.
‘Good morning, Lia. Everything still going smoothly for you in the city?’
‘Oh, yes,’ the bubbly young woman chimes, ‘Cal and I bought our first house in the Lower City. It isn’t much, but it’s quite an upgrade compared to the rocky road!’
‘I am glad to hear it.’
Lia beams with joy and Tav can see her long tail whipping the floor excitedly behind her. It seems that the tiefling is truly happy to see them again.
‘But I assume that you aren’t here to talk about the house,’ she whispers. ‘What brings you here?’
‘Is Rolan available? I would like to ask him something about the part of the city’s archives that was brought to Ramazith's Tower.’ ‘Oh. Well. He should already be up, I believe. Go upstairs, third portal.’
‘Thank you. Send my love to Cal for me, will you?’
‘Will do!’
Without further ado, Tav climbs up the stairs above the front desk to find the upper floor, where four buzzing portals offer passage to different locations. The contraption is identical to the riddle that Lorroakan set up with the Nightsong, but there is something so incredibly Rolan about it.
The plaques which bore the different answers to the simple question that helped Lorroakan narrow down the flow of visitors to only let the serious ones in have long been tossed into a broom closet and forgotten. None of the portals bears a riddle of any kind, and passage to the wizard’s tower is left to chance. The fear of what is on the other side of each threshold is enough to deter any visitor and leave the tower secluded in its own peace and quietness. Zero is precisely the number of visitors that Rolan loves.
Following Lia’s instructions, Tav steps through the third portal and finds themself transported to a brightly-lit observation floor. Astronomical instruments and tools are posted at each window, ready to be manipulated and appreciated. Between a few richly ornamented bookshelves bearing nothing but volumes on the universe, the sky and celestial bodies, there is a mahogany desk illuminated by the lofty arches of the balcony. Piles of scrolls and open tomes bear witness to an ongoing, arduous research.
Tav glances around, hoping to find somebody. Anybody. But there is no soul in sight. Since they do not wish to impose, they are retracing their steps towards the portal, when a grunt resonates in their back.
‘Ugh, Lia will really let anyone in. Excuse me!’
Before leaving him a chance to begin one of his numerous grumpy monologues, Tav turns around and waves. The other tiefling gasps in surprise.
‘It’s you! I was wondering if you even made it out alive! Mh. Should I be surprised that you did? Not that I care.’
Tav snorts and approaches him. Despite the animosity that the wizard has often held against them, he allows a smile to play on his lips, wrinkling his amber eyes and creasing his freckled nose.
‘Morning, Rolan,’ they chime. ‘Love what you did with the place. You gave it a homely feeling.’
At the compliment, Rolan’s orange-red complexion darkens around his cheeks.
‘Thank you, Tav. What brings you here after weeks of not hearing from you?’
‘I was wondering if one needs any special permission to have access to the city’s archives that were brought to you.’
The wizard gestures towards a seat in front of his desk, while he sits behind it, ignoring the mess.
‘Not that I know of. Why do you ask?’
‘I’m trying to find anything about Astarion’s family and see if, perhaps, there are any survivors in the city.’
‘Ah, yes. Him.’
Upon the mention of the vampire’s name, the wizard scrunches up his nose. Nevertheless, he seems to give it a thought, folding his hands before him.
‘I do have some records from previous censuses. Would that be of any help?’
‘Most likely.’
‘What information do you already possess? I have some free time on my hands, I can help you look,’ Rolan adds with a smirk. ‘For once, it is you who needs my help, after all. How could I sleep on this opportunity?’
Tav shakes their head in amusement and takes out a crumpled piece of parchment from their pocket, handing it over to the tiefling. He grabs it and peeks inside, only to find a single word scribbled on it.
‘Ancunín?’
‘That’s his surname. All I know and all he can remember is this name, and the fact that he grew up in a noble family.’
‘Mh. Researching noble families from the city should not be a daunting task. Crests, acts of inheritance and the like should be kept within the archives. I would not be surprised if all records from the nobility are kept together. Hopefully, it is the case and our research will be all the quicker thanks to it.’
He drags himself out of his chair and beckons Tav over as he walks away. They follow him, avoiding small talk as they quickly realised during their adventure that it is one of Rolan’s pet peeves. Talking to say nothing? It makes his skin crawl.
The wizard leads them to the lower floors and into one of the high-security vaults where he has been keeping and guarding the documents entrusted to him. Memorising the orthography as well as the archival system used by the authorities, he begins to browse the collection, his clawed fingertip grazing the worn-out back of the numerous volumes on a shelf.
‘I see a registry of Upper City families here. Look for an Ancunín family in there while I keep looking. There is a desk in the corner.’
Tav grabs the heavy tome that Rolan hands them and carries it over to the unoccupied desk in the corner, supporting it with their hip. Despite their attempt to be careful, they inadvertently slam the book on the table—earning a disapproving glare from their host—and open it. Their outstretched finger trails down a pages-long list of clan names, hoping to find the only one that matters. In the background, the flipping of pages and the weight of books sliding onto the shelves make for the only distraction available.
‘So, any luck?’
They look up and close the tome with a shake of the head.
‘I don’t see Ancunín in there. Perhaps he didn’t live in the Upper City.’
‘Mmh. Let’s keep searching, then. Bring the volume back, I wouldn’t want to lose any of the archives. The authorities trusted a tiefling to guard their belongings, I would not want to waste this opportunity.’
When Rolan instructs them to do it, they are already halfway through the room with the volume in hand. They place it back carefully and join the tiefling in the search for other possible traces of the Ancunín family. As they peruse the archives together, Tav eyes the wizard with a lopsided grin.
‘Busy with research, I noticed. What wonderful things are you studying?’
Rolan drops an arm by his side, flattening his heels against the polished floor and flicking his other wrist.
‘It is an incredibly fascinating subject, really, so much so that academics from all around Faerûn gave it its orthodox name, “None of Your Business”.’
Tav rolls their eyes and snorts, resuming the task at hand.
‘Always a pleasure to talk to you, huh? Well. At least you learnt sarcasm on your journey.’
Their comment is welcomed by a grunt, followed by a good-humoured chuckle. A few seconds later, they find two volumes compiling deaths in Baldur’s Gate for the past three centuries and take a seat at the desk to go through the lists together.
‘The death certificates are kept separately, from what I know,’ Rolan declares while opening one of the volumes and flipping through the first pages, ‘but if Astarion technically died in the city, his name should be recorded in there.’
They start reading the names, careful not to touch the pages too much considering how old the ink is.
‘Mh,’ the tiefling breaks the silence again, ‘from what I gather, each deceased person has the death certificate number written in the last column. If you find Astarion, you should write down the number and visit the part of the archives that is guarding certificates and official documents. Perhaps the names of his relatives are stated on it, although I suspect that you are more likely to find this information on a birth certificate. I’m not sure how bureaucracy works here, exactly.’
‘It’s a mess, that’s all you need to know,’ Tav sighs. ‘Hopefully, I can get my hands on a possible birth certificate by finding his death certificate?’
‘Possibly. I imagine that they are kept together.’
For the next hour, they go through the lists of deaths occurring roughly around two hundred years ago. Since Astarion did not give Tav a precise date—either out of forgetfulness or by omission—it only makes the search trickier for the both of them. Before either of them grows frustrated, they agree to broaden their focus by a span of sixty years around the two-hundred-year mark. Rolan agrees to research prior dates and Tav, later ones.
Without fail, another hour later, Rolan taps the page he is reading.
‘There he is.’
Feeling excitement well up inside their chest, Tav drags their chair over to sit next to the tiefling and have a look at the line that he is showing them.
In elegant calligraphy, typical of official records, the vampire’s name is squeezed between countless others.
Astarion Ancunín. Born 1229. Dead 1268. 39. Exsanguination. Buried (LCNE). 0181901781413
The mere sight of his name among all of the others makes Tav’s heart tighten. They bow their head almost in solemn reverence as they read it, despite knowing that they will find Astarion in the sewers later to inform him of their findings. Even with the excitement of having found a clue in the puzzle of the pale elf’s past, it is quite odd to find him in such a register.
For the first time since vanquishing the Absolute, it occurs to them that this simple entry in the record could have well been definitive, had the company failed their mission. While some of their former companions still had people to mourn them, who would have shed a tear for Astarion? Everybody thought him dead already. Even Cazador was no longer around to brood over the loss of the remaining piece of his black mass.
Tightening their fist against their thigh, Tav vows to themself that they will find at least one person from Astarion’s family and reunite them. Even if that means having to dig up a body in the middle of the night and cast Speak with Dead.
Rolan nudges the piece of parchment with Astarion’s surname on it against Tav’s other hand. He hands them a quill, already dipped in ink.
‘Write the certificate number down,’ he speaks gently. ‘You will need it.’
They obey mechanically, copying the number from the register and the dates of birth and death. When they hand the quill back to the wizard, they scrunch up their nose.
‘Exsanguination. Bullshit. Beat up and left for dead!’
‘Don’t get sentimental, Tav,’ the tiefling’s firm tone scolds at once. ‘Records can be deceitful and they sometimes embellish facts, even if we believe them to be models of truth. Besides, the causes of death omit gruesome details as much as possible so they can be standardised. Just… rejoice in the fact that he’s still undead and well, I suppose.’
‘You’re right. Sorry.’
Rolan furrows his brow and gently pats their hand, before standing up and collecting the books.
‘Now, your best bet is to go to the city’s archives directly. Ask them where they keep the certificates, if they’re still on-site or if they’ve been displaced.’
‘I wish I could. Don’t they require special authorisations to visit the archives, now? It will take me weeks before I can have one. If I ever do.’
Once the wizard has placed the registers back in their spot, he pats the dust off of his hands and turns around to face them with a shrug.
‘Didn’t you travel with the son of the Grand Duke? The devil with one eye?’
Tav snaps their fingers with a gasp.
‘Wyll! You’re right! And, if that’s not enough, Grand Duke Ravengard does owe me for saving his life.’
‘Didn’t he already pay that back by fighting against the Absolute?’
‘That was… the right thing to do. But still, surely, he can put in a good word for me.’
‘Mh.’
It is not until the next day, when Wyll has found a window in his schedule, that Tav meets with him. Escorted by two members of the Flaming Fist, they are brought to the Blade of Frontiers’ shiny new office in the Upper City. Upon entering, the familiar figure of their former travelling companion, now devoid of devil horns, stands up from the chair and the guards are dismissed with a simple order.
Wyll beams with joy at the sight of his visitor, and he wastes no time bypassing his desk to approach them with his arms wide open.
‘Tav, my friend! Ah, what a sight for one sore eye!’
The warlock lets out a hearty laugh and the pair joins in a tight embrace, patting each other’s back.
‘I’m so happy to see you, Wyll,’ Tav chimes. ‘Look at you! You look amazing! And look at this office! Who knew that you were cut for bureaucracy after all?’
‘Ah, nevermind the office, I am hardly ever here,’ he responds with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘They deemed that I should have one for my administrative tasks, but truth be told, I am never happier than on the field itself.’
‘Not surprising. But I thought that the Fist had their headquarters in the southwest?’
‘Most of the building is under maintenance due to the Nautiloid shellings. This is all temporary.’
Tav nods and glances around, genuinely impressed by the office in itself. But before they can truly admire it, Wyll clears his throat.
‘What can I help you with?’
‘I was wondering if you knew of a way to have access to the city’s archives. There is a document I wish to consult, and possibly related ones if I can find them.’
‘What sort of document, if I may ask?’
There is no use lying to Wyll, they realise. Not only could he be the key to the archives, but he is a friend. A dear one at that.
‘Astarion wishes to know whether he still has family in the city. From before his transformation, that is. I found a register at Ramazith's Tower with the code on his death certificate, which, Rolan said, is probably kept in the Upper City.’
‘I see. Well, as an esteemed member of the city’s bureaucratic system and the son of Grand Duke Ravengard, I can escort you to the archives myself and give you access.’
Tav’s eyes widen.
‘Really? Would you mind?’
‘Not at all! Hopefully, it won’t take too long. I do have an appointment with a recruit later on. You have the reference, you said?’
‘Right here,’ they answer, patting their breast pocket.
‘Then, shall we?’
Wyll grabs the keys to his office and locks the door on their way out. As they head towards the archives, they share news of their life now that the tadpoles no longer writhe inside their heads and danger is out of the way.
He reveals that his father, upon regaining his position as Grand Duke after Gortash’s death, named him a Blaze of the Flaming Fist. Most of his time has been spent learning the methods of the company, ensuring the proper logistics of his unit, and then filling in countless forms that left him drained by the end of the day. Despite appearing incredibly busy with his new tasks, with a bit of prying, Tav makes him admit that he has started to court a noblewoman from the Upper City and that they sometimes meet when he does not need to work for promenades through gardens or along the coast. When they ask him whether he loves her, he merely clears his throat and averts his gaze, which twinkles strongly enough for them to catch the hidden meaning behind his shyness.
As they almost reach the archives, Wyll turns to them and grins.
‘You know, I think it is a beautiful thing, what you are doing for Astarion. I knew you to be selfless, but this further proves the kindness of your heart. Not that I needed convincing, mind you.’
‘Don’t give me too much credit,’ they respond with a brief chortle. ‘I don’t even know if my new mission will succeed.’
‘But, still, this is a beautiful gesture. By the way, how is our vampire friend doing?’
‘He lives in the sewers and only comes out at night, now that he is vulnerable to sunlight again. Sometimes I bring him provisions and entertainment during the day, or we go out at night, depending on his mood.’
The new Blaze shakes his head with a sorrowful expression.
‘It breaks my heart that he can no longer enjoy the sun. It is the least that he deserves, after all of his ordeals. But I am glad that he’s got you. I wish I could visit him from time to time, but I doubt that he’d be willing to see me. He never really warmed up to me.’
‘In all fairness, sometimes it doesn’t sound like he’s warmed up to me either. But I think that, deep down, he would appreciate it. He still sees Shadowheart sometimes, but now that she has moved away, their encounters become rarer.’
‘Mh. I suppose.’
At the main gate, the guards instantly recognise Wyll and his uniform and they instantly salute him. When he explains the purpose of his visit, they clear the passage and let them both in. Inside the building itself, they are guided by one of the recordkeepers to Tav’s desired section and search for the certificate with the help of the reference number they provide from the parchment.
In no time, the librarian returns with a folder under their arm and beckons them over to one of the reading tables, illuminated by rows of candles. Settling the folder on a cushion due to its old age, she opens it and reveals the original copy of the death certificate. But, as Rolan suspected, there is no mention of Astarion’s parentage.
‘Sorry to bother you again,’ they say to the archivist, ‘but do you know if the birth certificate for this person still exists? He was born in 1229 in Baldur’s Gate.’
‘I will have a look for you.’
Tav and Wyll patiently wait for her to return, sitting at the reading tables and eyeing each other every so often, sharing awkward smiles as they refrain from chatting and disturbing those working nearby. Thankfully, it does not take long before she comes back with another folder.
‘This is the birth certificate of Astarion Ancunín,’ she whispers to them, unveiling the document. ‘If you are looking for his parentage, their names figure right here, but time has faded the ink, I fear.’
‘It remains quite legible, I believe,’ Wyll responds as Tav squints to read the handwriting. ‘The mother’s name seems to be Arallia…’
‘And his father, Elaith Ancunín,’ Tav completes the thought. ‘Is there any way to find out if these elves still live?’
‘I can peruse the latest census,’ the librarian answers, ‘but you must keep in mind that it is nearly three years old. With the attacks on the city, who knows what became of them?’
‘I would greatly appreciate your help, ma’am.’
Before they know it, Tav is back in the sewers, shuffling their feet while holding up a lantern to guide their own steps to Astarion’s latest hideout. But even before they reach it, they hear a soft whistle coming from their side. In the darkness, two bright blood-coloured irises shimmer and invite them in. Yet there is no fear. As menacing as these appearances look, they know that it could only be their friend.
‘What are you doing here?’ Tav whispers as Astarion presses a finger to his lips.
‘Minsc was looking for me again.’
‘Has it ever occurred to you that he, maybe, very maybe, cares about you?’
‘Darling, do not take me for a fool!’ his grumpy tone emerges. ‘If I let him in, he will never leave!’
Tav rolls their eyes and follows him to his new lair. Once inside a makeshift shed, they both sit on the same bedroll that he travelled with during their great adventure. Despite having known mud, rocks and fungus, the thing is now smelly, stained, and rotten. Perhaps they should remember to get him a new one, one of these days.
‘So, any news of the search?’ he inquires, trying to play coy yet betraying his excitement with a nibble on his lower lip.
‘I have some, indeed.’
They smile at him and pat his shin.
‘I found your parents.’
Despite the reveal, Astarion’s reaction remains lukewarm. He huffs and crosses his arms with a crinkle of the nose.
‘Let me guess… Dead, I presume?’
‘No, actually. Very much alive.’
Within a heartbeat, Astarion’s arms loosen and his eyebrows shoot so far up his forehead that Tav worries that they will go past his hairline. There is a candid look in his eyes, a remainder of innocence in the gaze of a man who has so often relished in killing various creatures and would have been willing—more than once—to slaughter many more. It is as if his inner child has pierced through the thick armour that his hardships have driven him to forge for himself, letting himself known after being kept buried far into the depths of his person for over two centuries.
Astarion takes a moment to digest the news. How thrilling. How exciting! How so, very, frightening.
‘Do they still live in the city?’ his hushed tone inquires, almost afraid to ask.
‘I found their address in a census from three years ago. We don’t know if they survived the assault on Baldur’s Gate, but we could try. Would you like me to make contact?’
After long seconds of internal deliberation, the pale elf nods. And if his heart has long stopped beating, he can perceive the ghost of a tremor.
Three days later, Tav and Astarion find themselves on the doorstep of a grand villa in the Upper City, once the sun has mostly set and is hiding behind clouds. Dressed for the occasion, adorning fine embroideries on silk garments, the vampire cannot stop adjusting his clothes every few seconds, making himself look messier than he originally did. Swatting his hands away this time, Tav fixes his collar and sleeves for him.
‘Stop fidgeting!’
‘I’m nervous, alright?’ he hisses. ‘I don’t even know what I’m going to tell them. How do I even greet them? How did I usually do it? I can’t remember a damned thing!’
‘Calm down. Let me take the first step, maybe. And, in doubt, let them approach you first. And don’t behave like a cat if they hug you.’
The door opens and one of the servants of the house bows to them.
‘You must be Tav. We have received word of your visit. Our masters await you in their sunroom. Please, follow me.’
With one last shared glance, the pair follows the servant, and Tav discreetly slaps Astarion’s hand as he attempts to fix what does not need fixing in his appearance. Before he can protest, they raise a finger to shush him.
The maid walks them through the lavishly decorated home of her masters. The walls, adorned with elvish art and family portraits, are far from Astarion’s taste when it comes to interior design. In fact, he finds their choice so similar to Cazador’s that his stomach tightens the longer he stares. Yet, as they pass a gallery of portraits, he recognises none of the faces. And worse even, he does not see his own.
For an instant, he starts to doubt that Tav found the right people after all. The research went so quickly, he thinks to himself, it is bound to be a mistake. Perhaps they found somebody related to him but from a completely different branch of the Ancunín clan. Maybe they coincidentally have the same names. Mayhap they are not related at all.
He has no time to spiral further down in his doubt, for they now both stand at a door, whose glass is elegantly ornamented by the wooden motifs found on every other door they have passed. As the servant opens it and bows to herald their arrival, Tav places a hand on Astarion’s back, handing him a handkerchief.
‘You’re sweating,’ they whisper.
‘Thank you.’
As he quickly wipes his forehead and upper lip and sees the maid returning, he shoves the handkerchief into his pocket and straightens up. She beckons them over.
‘My masters are ready to see you. May I serve you refreshments?’
‘That… will not be necessary,’ Astarion responds, forgetting that Tav might be thirsty or hungry for mortal sustenance.
The maid steps aside to let them into the sunroom and Tav enters first to ease both parties into the reunion. They face two figures sitting stiffly in broad armchairs. On the left, a tall man with long blonde hair watches their display with an air of unspoken disdain. He pinches his thin lips, accentuating the wrinkles around his mouth and his natural frown. At first sight, they can already tell that he is no social animal. His fingers incessantly pick at the brass upholstery nails marking the border between the forest green velvet and the mahogany frame.
Beside him, a woman around his age squints at Tav. With her hands joined on her lap as she keeps her knees tight together, leaning away from her husband, her pose itself communicates that she is the judge in the home and the decision-maker. Her gown, closer to a court garment than to a lounging robe, suggests that she is often the one to speak to guests and visitors, while her husband remains in his own bubble or mulls over information conveyed to them before they deliberate in private and come to a mutual agreement. Or what he believes to be a compromise.
The cascading waves of silver-white hair shielding her pale blue eyes add an air of mystique to this woman. She is a painting come to life, blessed with the elegance and poise of the moon elves. Any glance cast towards them is stolen by her ethereal appearance, and it can be asserted, without a shadow of a doubt, which parent Astarion takes after.
Tav instantly understands that if they want the reunion to go smoothly, they have to impress her.
‘Lord and Lady Ancunín,’ they greet as they bow. ‘I sincerely thank you for accepting to receive me in your grand home.’
‘Your letter came as a surprise, I must say,’ Lady Arallia Ancunín speaks up in a cold tone. ‘Now, speak of your intentions.’
Within a heartbeat, and despite the fog that has long occupied his memories, Astarion recognises them. His breath hitches at the realisation and his eyes widen. Here they are, in the flesh; the two people he used to call ‘mother’ and ‘father’.
Tav does not need to introduce him. Arallia instantly peeks over their shoulder at the taller man standing behind them, and she hardly shows any surprise.
‘Oh. It’s you.’
All eyes turn to Astarion and, for once, he is at a loss for words. His usual cockiness and insolence are long gone in the face of his family, and if anything, it is as though he is shrinking from the attention.
With a supportive grin, Tav simply nods, giving him the strength and courage to step forward. As they did before him, he bows.
‘Lord and Lady Ancunín.’
Arallia scrutinises him without as much as a twinkle in her eye. She inspects every fold of his clothes, driving him to the brink of insanity as he becomes self-conscious over the way the light even reverbs on the embroideries. Do they insult her eyes?
‘I was wondering when you would come to our door.’
‘Who is this, dear?’ the man whispers to his wife.
Tav frowns in sheer disbelief. Perhaps the man they thought to be Elaith Ancunín was another man after all. It is possible that Arallia remarried after all this time. But the shape of his jaw still leads them to believe that it is his father. He has to be.
Arallia clicks her tongue and turns her head towards her husband without truly looking at him.
‘Oh, it’s um…’ she mumbles with a distracted wave of the hand. ‘Ah, what was his name again?’
Astarion’s world collapses in less than a second. She recognised him, yet forgot his name. Her own son, her flesh and blood. He expected shock since he has—literally—returned from the dead after more than two centuries, but oblivion? No, that was never one of the prospects. How could one forget their child? He never sired any, nor would he ever be able to, but he is sure that even a millennium after their death, he would have remembered everything about them.
All the worst scenarios flood his heart and Tav’s heart shatters at the sight. His shoulders slouch and his face falls.
‘Astarion,’ he sighs. ‘My name is Astarion.’
‘Yes. That.’
The vampire lowers his head and stares at the ground, a much more welcoming sight than his parents are. Tav squints and shifts their attention back to their hosts.
‘You said that you expected to see him again?’ they ask. ‘So, you knew that he wasn’t dead?’
‘Everybody knows, now. The mighty saviours of the Sword Coast! Among which my son, can you believe it?’
There is no hint of pride in her voice, nor of admiration. Merely contempt. Unabashed derision. As Astarion discreetly takes a step back, shaken by her reaction, Arallia raises an eyebrow.
‘Why the long face, child?’
‘Nothing, Lady Ancunín.’
She scoffs and stands up, crossing her arms against her midriff.
‘What did you expect when you showed your face here, boy? That we would cry and hug you? You are not a toddler anymore.’
‘N-No, I didn’t—’
‘You had two centuries to visit us, to let us know that you were alright. But you never came. As far as I am concerned, this ship has long sailed!’
Elaith rubs his upper lip with a finger, humming to himself.
‘It is no surprise. The boy has always been trouble,’ he declares without as much as a look towards his child.
‘Do you remember how needy he was, dear?’ Arallia adds with a short gasp. ‘Always begging for attention. Constantly! He would do anything just to get us to talk to him. I cannot handle people like that. So very impolite and embarrassing, really. It is just as well that he remained with his nanny.’
Astarion’s eyes darken and Tav gently holds the cuff of his sleeve. They cannot believe it. They are acting as though their guests are not even here, as if they are the audience of a play unfolding in that damned sunroom.
‘And now, look at him,’ Arallia continues, her upper lip curling up in a snarl. ‘A saviour of Baldur’s Gate! A hero! But I see you for what you are, boy, do not blind yourself with fantasies. I see your red eyes; I see your fangs. You are nothing but a monster.’
This is the last straw. Astarion spins around on his heel and shoves the door to the house open, storming off past the flabbergasted maid. Tav calls his name but hears no response. They turn to glare at their hosts.
‘With all due respect, Lord and Lady Ancunín—and there is none on my part—you are the only monsters in sight. You should be ashamed of yourselves and the disgrace you are to your son. He has brought nothing but honour to your clan’s name.’
They give the outraged elves a mocking bow and withdraw from the home, whispering a ‘thank you’ to the maid who showed them in. Once they slam the front door of the villa, they frantically look around, but there is no sign of Astarion. Cursing under their breath, they sprint towards the flashy sigil on one of the brick walls past the heavily guarded Baldur’s Gate. They reach out for it with their destination in mind and vanish from the surface of the Upper City.
When they emerge from the portal into the sewers, they search the countless corridors, nooks and crannies for the pale elf. They run until they are out of breath, scanning each side and calling out his name until their voice cracks and turns hoarse. Inside their chest their heart maddens, tightening at the idea of Astarion suffering alone, wherever he is. All they hope for is that he is not about to do something drastic.
Under their short breath, they pray that he is nowhere near water. They beg fate that he is keeping as far away as possible from particularly sharp objects. They despair at the idea that he might be drinking his sorrows away for the night on the shore, waiting for the sun to come up again. He would never do such things, would he?
Gods, if Astarion’s misery successfully leads him to such lengths, what would they do?
They come to a halt in a narrow corridor, whose end is nothing but a cramped chamber with a rotten wooden plank leaning against the wall. They lean over their knees, gasping for air, pressing their body to recover quickly enough so they can find their friend as quickly as possible.
But just as they start walking away, a soft whine resonates from behind the wooden plank. They snap their head around and slowly approach it with their dagger in one hand and the other outstretched in caution.
‘Hello? Is someone there?’
No response.
‘I’m pushing the plank to the side.’
As they do it, the dim light of a nearby torch reflects on the huddled-up silhouette of a man rocking himself back and forth. With his elbow resting on his knee and his fingers woven through his hair, his widened eyes peek through the gap between his forearm and his bicep.
‘Go away.’
Tav sheathes their dagger and kneels, reaching out their hand.
‘Astarion…’
‘I SAID GO AWAY!’
With a surprisingly strong shove, he topples them off their legs and glares at them as they fall into a puddle of dirty water. When they look up, all they see are the cheeks drowning under the salty tears and the look of unadulterated agony in his eyes. His traits contort and scrunch up as a strangled sob leaves his throat.
‘This is all your fault,’ he scolds. ‘You couldn’t stop yourself, could you? Being a hero, a helper, as always, without thinking about the consequences! Helping gets you off, doesn’t it? Well, I sure hope you’re happy.’
Tav’s brow furrows and they crawl up to him.
‘Hey, it is not me you should be after, it should be them. Redirect your anger at them. You were miserable and you couldn’t move on so long as you didn’t know for sure if you had a family. I searched for you and found them. They decided to be awful.’
Astarion scoffs and buries his head into the crooks of his elbows, shielding his head as though the weight of his torment is threatening to come crashing down on it. His weeping is muffled by his sleeves, but its intensity does not go unnoticed.
‘I knew it,’ he gurgles. ‘I have never been loved. I am unlovable.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You heard them! So needy… Always demanding attention… That is why I have always been alone. When I was a slave under Cazador’s yoke, I was lonely, but I least I found comfort in the idea that once upon a time, I was held and loved.’
He roughly rubs his eyes with the palm of his trembling hand.
‘But I have always been lonely. It is in my nature. I remember it all, now. Calling my mother and reaching out to her, but she would never pick me up. And my father… He would shrug and walk away as if I were nothing but a stray dog on the street.’
The vampire glares at them.
‘And that’s all I am, now. A filthy beast in the sewers!’
As he raises his fist to punch the wall, Tav swiftly catches his hand and resists the force he puts against their palm.
‘Astarion, you are none of these things,’ they speak softly, hoping to make him see reason. ‘Gods, they are the beasts, not you!’
He rolls his eyes with a scoff and drops his hand on his lap. Despite knowing that he has never been comfortable with promiscuity, they sit beside him and enfold him in their embrace. Gently rocking him from side to side, they fail to see the shock on his face.
‘And by all that is sacred, you are loved, Astarion. Shit, I never thought that I’d say this out loud, but I love you. I’m not sticking by your side out of pity, or out of obligation. I do so because I want to. Because you’re worth the effort it takes to bring you everything you want from the surface.’
‘How can you say that?’ he whimpers. ‘You’d be better off without me.’
‘Nonsense,’ they grunt, before pressing a brief kiss on the top of his head. ‘I was so scared when you disappeared. I was afraid that you’d gone and get yourself hurt, or worse. I know it hasn’t been easy on you, living here on your own and never seeing the sun again. And now, this. I swear to you, if I could ease that pain singlehandedly, I would. I would carry it with you.’
Astarion clings to them and cries on their shoulder as they clasp one another. Tav gently rubs his back, feeling tears sting their eyes in turn.
‘Losing you would’ve broken me, Astarion. Don’t you dare think for a moment that you’re unloved.’
Another moment passes where they give the vampire the time to exteriorise their pain and process the failed reunion with his parents. When, at last, he regains some of his composure, he pulls away from their embrace and leans back against the wall.
‘I never thought it would end like this,’ he whispers. ‘I don’t know what I did wrong.’
‘You did nothing wrong, Astarion. All of this is way more telling of them than it is of you. Do you want me to tell you what I found out about them at the archives?’
He eyes them curiously.
‘They are drowning in debt. Your mother has been cast away from the Grand Duke’s court for cruel comments, and most noble circles are barred from even speaking to them. Your father lost his livelihood a century ago and he relies entirely on your mother. But you? You risked your life and sanity to save the city that has been so hostile to you. Perhaps that wasn’t your goal at first, but you couldn’t bear to see your home defaced in the name of evil. You could’ve run away at any given moment, but you didn’t. You saved them, and you saved all of Faerûn. Your parents do not even hold a candle to your achievements and your growth.’
If blood could still flow through his veins, he would blush at the sincere praise that Tav presents him. It surprises him, to say the least. While they are never afraid to give compliments, they never pay them lightly. Certainly not to flatter anyone. He relaxes against them and slowly leans his head until it rests on their shoulder. ‘Without you, I would never have made it,’ he confesses. ‘You saved me from myself, more than once. You saved me from my blindness. I could have sacrificed seven thousand souls for my own gain, and sometimes it still haunts me that I didn’t. I wouldn’t suffer so…’
‘You would have lost yourself in that power. Nobody remains intact when such ambitions are given to them. Honestly, between you and Gale, it was hard to juggle,’ they add with a brief laugh.
Tav links their arm through his and gently grazes their fingertips along the sleeve in a comforting gesture. A bashful grin tugs at the corners of Astarion’s lips as he finally gets his thoughts in order.
‘What I mean to say is… Thank you. For everything.’
‘You don—’
‘Ugh, accept my damn thanks, will you?’ he groans. ‘It is not every day that I say it. Hold it against me for that one time, if you so wish!’
They look into each other’s eyes and crack up. Tav runs his fingers through his hair, and while they did anticipate a rejection, Astarion does not move. The tension in his shoulders alleviates.
‘Come live with me.’
‘What?’
Astarion frowns and stares at them, unsure whether he heard them well.
‘Come live with me. I mean it. I have enough money to buy a small house now that I sold all the armour I gathered during our journey and all the weapons I’m not using anymore.’
They shift to face him.
‘Think about it. It will be more comfortable than the sewers, and cleaner, and you can receive as many visitors as you want. It will be your home as much as mine.’
‘Darling, I cannot picture myself ducking whenever I want to pass a window to avoid sunlight.’
‘You wouldn’t have to! I can make sure to buy one of those homes with a large cellar, and that could be your flat. We’d have a common space on the ground floor, then I could have my room and a washroom upstairs, that’s all I need. We can build direct access to the cellar from outside in case you ever wish to bring some conquests.’
‘Conquests?’ he repeats with an eyebrow raised and a smug smile. ‘Darling, please, it’s less embarrassing to say “lovers”.’
Tav smirks and shakes their head.
‘It would be home, Astarion. I can still provide for you. You’ll never smell the sewers again and you can decorate the place as you like. I’ll give you full permission. Even for my bedroom.’
‘This is a dangerous game you’re playing, you know that?’
‘Maybe. But I trust your taste.’
Astarion considers the offer for a few seconds, then nods.
‘I… would like that. If you are sure that it would not be a bother to you, then…’
‘You’ll never be a bother to me, Astarion.’
The vampire and the half-drow share a smile. Tav holds out their hand, and he stares at it for a moment, before shaking it. They both entertain hope for the future. Perhaps things will be alright after all.
‘In the meantime,’ Astarion coos, pulling out a small frame from under the flap of his blazer, containing a painted portrait of Arallia he snatched from the lobby on his way out, ‘would you be interested in a game of darts?’
It takes quite a few weeks before Tav manages to purchase the small house they promised for Astarion and themself. Located in the bustling centre of the Lower City and within walking distance of the Elfsong Tavern for his entertainment, it contains almost everything that they compromised on during further discussions on the matter. It stands tall enough to overlook the bay, with a covered balcony for late-night contemplation and drinks.
Tav claimed the attic for their bedroom, not requiring more than that for themself. After years of moving from home to home in the Underdark back in the day, elementary comfort has always felt more familiar and safer than a bunch of lavish rooms, which they would not have known what to use for.
The front door stood at the top of the outside stairs leading to the middle floor. As agreed, this part of the house hosts common facilities, including a basic kitchen, a living room, and a washroom. Another enclosed space brought them much strife when it came to finding a use for it. Then, after a long brainstorming session, they decided that it would become a small library for the both of them and that they were free to borrow books from each other. He has read all of them already anyway.
As for the lower floor, at street level, it is dedicated to Astarion’s comfort. A private and spacious bedroom with an en-suite bathroom is hidden from view at the bottom of the stairs, behind antique doors that clash with the rest of the place, but which he has already grown fond of. On the other side, a walk-in closet enables him to store and cherish his clothes, with enough space for him to mend them if he wants. Only, the floor is not underground, as Tav promised, and the sight of the windows permanently barred by shutters pains the vampire. But for now, this will do.
On the day of moving in, they gather his clothes and belongings in crates and carry them to the house in the middle of the night. Within a few hours, the place is squeaky clean and each of their possessions has found its place within their humble abode. They spend the rest of the night bringing furniture in from the nearby Guildhall and designing the future improved dressing room for Astarion, drinking wine and laughing over the simplest things.
When daylight shyly pierces the windows of the living room, Tav quickly shuts the blinds. Astarion sighs; he did not think that witnessing the sunrise yet missing it at the same time would be so difficult.
Around midday, they drop everything they are doing and stretch out their sore limbs. Tav’s attention is drawn to the frame above the front door, still bearing Arallia’s portrait, but pierced by darts and riddled with empty holes.
‘Astarion, when is your birthday?’
Sprawled across the couch, he lifts his head and raises an eyebrow.
‘I don’t remember. Why do you care?’
They shuffle their feet towards him and place their hands on his hips. He has never looked so comfortable and at ease since they met almost a year ago. And they were incredibly proud to witness it.
‘I’ve been thinking. Since you don’t know when it is, do you think that today, since it is the start of your new life, could become your new birthday?'
Astarion kicks his legs off the cushions and sits up, dumbfounded by their question.
‘Mh.'
A smile plays on his lips.
‘I would like that, actually.’
‘Oh, perfect.’
‘Why?’
Tav trots up to their cloak, hanging from a peg by the entrance, and reaches into the breast pocket to take out an envelope, which has already been opened. They play with the paper for a second, enjoying the gentle crumpling sound it creates, before facing him.
‘Follow me.’
Utterly confused, Astarion hoists himself up and walks over to them, shrugging and eyeing the envelope. They open it and carefully read its contents, without letting him see any of it. Then, they shove the paper into their pocket and beam with joy.
‘May I cast a spell on you? It will not harm you, and it has been tested. No danger here.’
‘Uh… Sure. I suppose. As long as there is no wild magic outburst that brings our house down before we have even lived in it.’
They nod and concentrate for a few seconds to summon the Weave into their fingertips. As their hands glow with a powerful light, they utter an incantation and touch Astarion with their palms. Swirls of coloured light wrap around his limbs and then vanish as quickly as they initially appeared.
Astarion looks down at his body, expecting to feel different, but he does not.
‘What is it supposed to be doing? Nothing’s changed.’
As a sole answer, Tav unlocks the front door and opens it. Astarion yelps and frantically steps back, stumbling over his own foot as he flattens his back against the opposite wall, wanting to avoid the intruding sunlight threatening to reduce him to ashes.
But then, there is a cheer. He cracks an eye open and sees Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, and a simulacrum of Lae’zel on his doorstep. Although the Gith is not nearly as excited as the rest, they all chant in unison.
‘Happy birthday, Astarion!’
With his jaw slacking, the pale elf stares at his former companions.
‘What are you all doing here?’
‘We’re here to celebrate your new life,’ Shadowheart responds with a grin.
‘A new house! I’m so proud of you, soldier!’ Karlach squeals, jumping up and down.
Tav comes over to Astarion and wraps an arm around his shoulders.
‘How about we head out to the tavern?’
The vampire scoffs and rolls his eyes.
‘It’s midday, Tav.’
‘Try it.’
‘I-I can’t.’
Wishing to show him that it is safe, Tav slips away from him and crosses the house’s threshold to stand among the rest of the group, right under the sun. Astarion shakes his head nervously, with anger pooling in his guts.
‘Now what kind of sick joke is this, Tav?’ he growls.
‘Come to us, Astarion. It’s safe.’
Tav smiles and holds out both of their hands. Hesitating at first, the pale elf slowly peels himself off the wall, staring at the inviting hands awaiting him. His whole body is trembling. His teeth are chattering. What is going on?
He cautiously steps into the halo of sunlight, but nothing happens. Forbidding himself from crying victory, he tells himself that it is not direct exposure. The real thing would reduce him to cinders. Yet, as he continues his progress, the star’s warmth gradually enfolds the skin of his outstretched hands.
Then, before he knows it, he is standing outside, surrounded by his friends, and, right above him, the sun welcomes him within its glow. Nothing is burning. There is no pain. Nothing.
He is outside. And it is warm.
He stands there for a long moment, speechless, while the others affectionately squeeze his shoulders and arms.
‘Welcome home, Astarion,’ Gale murmurs.
He turns around to face them all.
‘H-How?’
Tav pats his back.
‘Rolan, Gale and I have been devising a spell to protect you from sunlight for weeks. It is not permanent, so no hasty behaviour, please. Whenever you want to go outside, I will cast the spell on you.’
‘You—’
Words escape him. Refuse to linger even a second longer on his tongue. As tears well up in his eyes, the group gathers around him to share a tight embrace. Despite his contempt for physical contact, knowing after all this ordeal with his parents that he is free at last and loved overwhelms him. He would almost grow sappy from the sensation if he were not so… Astarion.
As they pull away from him, Shadowheart presents him with a beautifully decorated hammer.
‘We all pitched in to commission this hammer for you,’ Wyll says. ‘The designs engraved on the sides were inspired by that mirror you carried around at camp.
‘I drew the designs and I had Gale replicate them so they could use it,’ Lae’zel’s projection explains. ‘I do not see the beauty in those motifs, they are nothing but primitive, but they said that you would appreciate it.’
Astarion picks up the hammer and admires the craftsmanship, albeit with astonishment.
‘Why a hammer, though? That was never a weapon I really used.’
‘We found your headstone in the graveyard of the Lower City,’ Karlach adds, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. ‘Wanna go smash it?’
He adjusts his grip on the hammer, weighing it in his hands, then smirks.
‘It’s show time.’
The whole group cheers and descends the stairs, while Tav stays behind to lock the house. Astarion looks over his shoulder at them and shakes his head.
‘You sneaky little thing!’ he muses.
‘Why, are you complaining?’
‘Not in the slightest.’
They walk side by side, already laughing at the banter that fuses among the group, now that everybody has gathered again. Astarion spends his time with his head tilted back to embrace the sun on his face, sighing in relief.
‘How did you even manage to get Rolan on board for that spell?’
‘I might have promised him a date.’
‘You devil.’
Tav throws their arm around his shoulders and soon, they all enter the graveyard.
Everyone is safe.
The soul cast out from the light against his will has taken his first step back to bask in its glow.
Everyone is safe.
And Astarion is loved.
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wullfric · 21 days
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I really want to make a poll with a bunch of options regarding what videogame I should play for the rest of the weekend (I finally have a sufficiently good amount of free time)
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jalo-parker · 2 months
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My laptop charger got accidentally left at my other parents house for the week so all I have is playboy bunny outfit helsknight.. 😁😁 I am so normal and sane i promise <- hes very clearly lying
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I have no explanation for this.. hope you fellow helsknight fans enjoy..?
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hensunrik · 1 year
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Galex road trip au moodboard
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revertrate · 2 years
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everyone offering insightful and astute observations about the pain and differences in the chuseok and sports festival arc.
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my brain out of nowhere: Okay alright so, do you see him dressed as a chef and him as a cattle, livestock per se? Actually this might be an entire allegory for a hunter finding fresh kill to cook. He literally looks like a killer cannibal.
Do you see where I am going with this? Yeah that's right, the look in the other's eyes implies that he's merely nothing other than roast beef. His next meal. Look, him biting literally confirms my suspicions. Why do you think Haejoon got fed the entire year.
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baby zombies are the only creature that can swallow your cock, human wise, that won't get you called a pedophile.
i hate pedophiles btw, i hope they all die a horrendous death then disappear under mysterious circumstances :]
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dreaming-medium · 2 months
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No Contact
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Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k
Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort
Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.
A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3
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No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 
No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 
He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.
Hell, it might even make you worse. 
It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 
But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 
It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?
You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 
He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 
He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.
But he wasn’t. 
A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.
Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 
For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.
He was the last to know. 
After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.
Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 
Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 
You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 
It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 
Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 
Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 
He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 
He never got to see you. 
“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?
“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”
A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”
Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 
Does that mean…?
No…
“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“
The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”
Chan was suddenly in a chair. 
When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  
“It’s not forever, son.”
Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.
Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.
He gets it now. 
The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 
Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.
Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?
Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?
“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”
It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 
You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.
It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 
Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 
God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.
How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?
5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 
He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 
Mice would get to it before you did. 
His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 
All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.
It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 
Just like him.
It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 
He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 
Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.
Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 
Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 
There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 
You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 
This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 
It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 
Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 
Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 
Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 
You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 
To him too. 
It’s the library where he first met you. 
The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 
He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 
Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 
Absolutely not. 
The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 
There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 
Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 
His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 
There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 
On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 
Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 
When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 
Your eyes met. He was a goner. 
How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 
Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.
Maybe you’re not working today? 
No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 
Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 
He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 
His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 
Empty. 
You-less. 
If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 
What a moment. 
Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?
He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 
Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.
“Can I help you find something?”
His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 
Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 
His throat immediately tightens. 
There you are. You. Beautiful you. 
Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 
“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?
You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 
Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”
No.
“Yeah.”
You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”
He knows. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 
Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 
You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”
Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 
He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.
But—
“If you need anything, let me know.”
You start to walk away.
Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 
His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!
“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 
You turn around with a curious look. 
“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”
He knows. You collect different translations of it. 
“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”
With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 
He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 
You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 
Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 
The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Y/N, please. 
“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 
Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 
“Thank you,” he whispers back. 
You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 
From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 
You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?
“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”
It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 
You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 
Y/N, please. 
“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 
Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 
Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 
Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 
He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 
He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 
Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 
He knows everything. 
“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 
You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?
“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”
Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 
“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 
Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 
After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 
“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”
Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 
Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”
Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 
Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 
Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.
“Chan,” he answers softly. 
“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 
Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.
“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 
“You too, Chan.”
And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 
—————————————————————
A bad idea was going into the library that day. 
An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 
And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 
And the worst part? You said yes. 
So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 
How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 
Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 
His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 
“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 
“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 
“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”
Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 
“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”
His jaw clenches. Now or never. 
“It’s with me,” he blurts. 
Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 
“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”
He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 
“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 
“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 
She’s right. What if you don’t? 
“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”
Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”
—————————————————————
“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 
Yes, you have. 
“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 
“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”
He looks back down at the old menu. 
This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 
The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 
“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 
He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 
“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 
A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”
It was your favorite. 
“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 
His eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“‘Cause of your allergy.”
He stops. 
You stop. 
He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 
His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”
Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”
You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”
He definitely did not say something. 
Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 
The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  
You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 
A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 
Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 
You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 
“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”
He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 
“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 
What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 
“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 
Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?
“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”
He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 
Your phone rings. 
A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”
“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 
A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 
“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”
Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 
—————————————————————
It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 
“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”
You already have. 
“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 
“Changbin sounds like a blast.”
He was your favorite before.
“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”
And you have. 
A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 
Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 
With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 
You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.
“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 
Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 
The brightest smile stretches over your face. 
God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.
He can’t help it.
He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 
“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”
Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 
“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”
“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”
Another laugh from you. 
“Shameless flirt.”
He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 
Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 
It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 
He wants to kiss you so bad. 
Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?
Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 
“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 
Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 
It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 
The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 
Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 
His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 
Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 
You’re always so enchanting.
Is this a good idea? 
Is kissing you the best option? 
But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?
Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 
One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 
Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 
He can’t take it anymore. 
Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.
But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 
He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 
It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 
He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 
But he is. 
He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 
How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 
Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 
Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 
God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 
His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 
He immediately stops. 
Why is your face wet?
Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 
You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?
Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 
“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?
“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.
Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 
“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”
Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 
Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 
Every muscle in your face is twitching.
What’s happening?
“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 
Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 
Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?
Please. 
Slowly, your hand falls from his. 
Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 
He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.
Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 
“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 
He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 
But you do.
“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You know him. 
“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”
Chan. Not Channie. 
He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”
His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 
Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 
“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”
Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 
The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 
You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.
“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”
You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 
“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”
Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 
“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 
How is your voice so even?
Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 
He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 
“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 
“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.
“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 
More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 
“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”
Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 
Him. You’re talking about him. 
Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 
Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 
You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 
Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”
Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 
You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 
That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 
“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”
A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 
A sob tears from his throat. 
You grip his hand tighter. 
“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 
“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”
Oh, god, Y/N.
“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”
He breaks. 
He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm. 
He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 
Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 
Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  
Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 
You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 
Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 
Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 
“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”
Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”
Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 
Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”
Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 
Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 
“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”
Channie. You called him Channie.
He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 
You’re still crying. Both of you are. 
“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 
All he can do is cry. 
Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 
The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 
Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.
You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 
“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.
“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”
He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 
“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”
Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 
"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."
His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.
The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.
It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.
But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.
The burn is soothed.
“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”
His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”
“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”
Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 
You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 
His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 
“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”
“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”
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rkvriki · 2 months
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ enhypen obliviously in love
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hi.......lmfao i keep disappearing i swear i'm alive but my isnpo has been going down the drain but i got this cute lil idea also to take a break of all the smutty things i've been posting lolz... anyways hope you enjoy this one !
make sure to leave feedback and reblog! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!
WARNINGS ! none really i think?? this is just not my best work im sorry </3 word count: 1.9k a/n: sorry that some of them, mainly hee's, are smaller than others, my brain isn't functioning and i had a writer's block during this and if it's not goo it's bc i quite forced myself to write this bc i wanted to post sth :(
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୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG ! - trying to hold your hand and failing
you and heeseung met through mutual friends in your first year of college and you became almost inseparable ever since then. in the beginning of it, you would only be together when the whole group was, but as time went by and you both started feeling more than just platonic feelings you two started hanging out alone as well. it was usual for heeseung to walk you to your apartment after classes and today was no different. you two walked side by side, the sun almost setting behind you. it was mostly quiet except for the background chatting and the small talk you two would make about something you saw. you could feel heeseung’s hand brushing against yours from time to time and you were internally cursing him out for not holding your hand already. after a few moments of silence, you heard heeseung sigh as he gained courage to hold your hand. his hand got closer to yours but- oh! a light post came between you two. needless to say heeseung was a blushing mess while you laughed at him.
୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG ! - confronting you about it
anyone had to be really blind to not notice the romantic connection there was between you and jay. it was so obvious you were both in love with each other, it was almost painful how one of the sides didn’t notice. that side being you. it’s not like you didn’t like jay romantically, because you do. a lot. but you felt like he just saw you as a best friend he tends to protect a lot. jay didn’t really show it, but he gets really frustrated when he tries to make a move on you in a subtle way, only for you to put him in the friend zone, but it’s all unintentional. every time someone tells you “jay totally likes you.” you’re quick to dismiss them because he would never see you like that. even though you’re the one saying it, it breaks you inside. until one day, you’re both in a diner, sharing fries and a milkshake and you can see jay fidgeting nervously and bouncing his leg repeatedly. “you’re restless, what’s going on?” you ask him, worried. jay sighs heavily and props his elbows on the table, staring at you with a serious expression. “look, i don’t know if i should just give up, because at this point you have to be pretending not to know.” he says “T-to know what?” he laughs at that. “that i like you, dummy.”
୨୧ SIM JAEYUN ! - tries to kiss you and fails
as childhood friends you and jake were always expected to end up dating by your fellow family members. you would always brush off any comments about you two (deep down you wish they were true) while jake just smiled like a fool while looking at you. it was no surprise when jake told his friends he liked you. it wasn’t hard to notice how he felt about you, seen the way he looks at you with glimmering eyes as he took in every word you say. he has never really tried to hide how he felt about you. he wasn’t ashamed of it and couldn’t wait for the moment you realized he liked you, because deep down he knew you felt like him too. it’s funny to him how he’s always making flirty comments and giving you kind of romantic presents and still you just thought he was playing his role as your best friend. but still, even though it was all funny and entertaining to watch, jake was tired of waiting and he decided to just directly show you how he feels. so that’s how you find yourself sitting in the park bench with him as layla plays around. jake takes a quiet deep breath as his hand comes up to brush your hair from your face, making you face him. he takes that as an opportunity to lean down. you, thinking he was gonna whisper something, turned your face to the side, making him bump his head against you. he starts laughing at you, making you confused. “you can’t really see it, can you?”
୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON ! - misunderstanding gone right ?
no one who knew you two understood how in hell you and sunghoon weren’t a couple. it was so obvious you both liked each other but still none of you seemed to do anything about it. you two were your class’s representatives so you two were almost always together and it wasn’t too hard to notice the lingering touches or stares you shared. but something the other students didn’t know was that you two had actually talked about your “feelings”. one day sunghoon almost overheard you telling your friend you liked him. “you like me?” he had asked “no! no, i don’t like you, sunghoon.” you answered trying to play it off. he nodded, his lips pursing. “good, then because i’m in love with someone else.”. it was something along those lines and you two had never talked about it again, but the tension never left. it felt heavy on you and it was painful to spend time alone with sunghoon so you settled that you were gonna tell him the truth. “remember that day you asked me if i liked you?” he hummed as he stopped in his tracks. “well, i lied. i like you, actually. i don’t want things to get awkward because you don’t feel the same but i needed to be honest.” his eyes widened as he stared at you like you were crazy. “are you kidding me? i only said i didn’t like you because you said you didn’t like me.” you gasped and pointed an accusing finger at him “why did you lie then? you said you were in love-” “hey! don’t put the blame on me now you lied too.” “well, we still can fix it right?” you said laughing making him do the same.
୨୧ KIM SUNOO ! - “PFT! who would ever like me?”
you and sunoo weren’t the closest people ever but you two spent a lot of time together since pretty much all of your friends were mutual. still, that fact didn’t stop you from developing a silly crush on him that quickly turned into something more serious the more you got to know him in the very few times the two of you were left alone after a group hangout. no one knew about it except for your best friend. you never told sunoo, not because you were afraid of rejection or him being rude because with how sweet his personality is, he would’ve rejected you in such a friendly manner it would make you think he’s reciprocating the feelings, but because no one like him would ever like you, he was way out of your league. so, confessing was definitely out of question, no matter how much your best friend would insist you would simply not do it. but in reality, it wasn’t really like that. one day you were hanging out with sunoo and your best friend at a cat cafe when suddenly in the conversation you said something along the words of “who would ever like?” and bold sunoo, was not afraid to hide his sincere feelings and answered with “i do.” he smiled while you looked up blushing furiously. your best friend laughing maniacally. “w-what?” sunoo chuckled at your reaction. “i thought i made it quite obvious that i liked you, silly.”  oh! who would’ve guessed!
୨୧ YANG JUNGWON ! - heard you liked “someone else”
you and jungwon had met each other in sophomore year of highschool and it was safe to say there was a connection instantly that was more than just a platonic one. you two quickly became attached at the hip. if jungwon said he was going somewhere it was sure that you would be here two, if you were being invited somewhere they could already expect the “can jungwon come along?” question, and vice-versa. it wasn’t strange when people came up to either you or him and asked if you were dating each other and it honestly shocked everyone when you both would always answer no to it, even your own girlfriends found your “friendship” strange. they did not find the idea of a boy-girl friendship weird or impossible to exist but they just couldn’t see your dynamic as friends so it was bound for them to question you. you heard the question so many times you decided to just tell them “fine! yes, i like him so, what?” you saw their shocked faces but they weren’t looking at you. you looked behind you seeing jungwon behind you. when you locked eyes he was quick to turn his back and walk away making you panic. a few days have gone by after that and you decided you needed to talk to him. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i didn’t want things to get ruined by this.” jungwon stared at you “who even is tha guy?” he asked making you look at him as if he had three heads. “what?” you asked “what what?” “jungwon the guy is literally you, i thought that was settled already.” jungwon stayed silent before laughing like a maniac. “if you’re here to make fun of me you can-” jungwon shut you off with a kiss, making you relaize where things went wrong.
୨୧ NISHIMURA RIKI ! - i don’t even know how to word this one
let’s settle one thing. you two knew you both liked each other. romantically. you just don’t bother on labelling it or directly showing it to each other. everyone around you found your dynamic honestly weird but to you two it was more simple than people put it to be. it all started when you were really oblivious about ni-ki’s feelings for you so he decided to hint that he liked you more than a friend. like one time you were walking to his house and he just shoot “you look cute.” but you didn’t quite hear what he said, distracted by a dog “what did you say?” he sighed “i said you look like a fruit.” “riki that does not make sense, but whatever you say.” and he started gradually getting bolder. “i can’t get this song out of my head.” you told him during class “i can’t get you out of my head.” oh! that was new information for you “thanks…?” at this point you were acting dumb for him and he couldn’t take it anymore so he got even more straightforward. during one of your daily walks you were rambling about a flower you saw on the way and he just let you talk as his hand sneakily grabbed yours, making you stop talking and falter in your steps “what?” he asked as if it was nothing “n-nothing!” he smiled as he kept walking along with you. after that day he noticed a change. a good one. and that’s when he realized you had realized so he decided to just get to the point “is it weird if i kiss you?” he asked when you were eating lunch in the school garden. you put your drink down and turned to look at him. “honestly, riki? yes. do i care? no.” so with that he grabbed your face, kissing you as he smiled against your lips.
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SET ME ALIGHT AGAIN.
Cregan Stark x female!Targaryen!Reader (Part 2 here)
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"It was on request of your younger brother's small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And now it's at his hands that the haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s giving back to you. And you let it flood you."
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; p in v, oral (fem receiving), angst (?), breeding kink, size kink, size difference, romantic fucking in front of the fireplace, afab reader, post dance of the dragons
WORDS: 4.8 K
NOTES: I dedicate this to @sylasthegrim. You're not only one of the few people I really grew fond of in the short time we truly got to know each other, but since both our minds basically came down to the same idea, this is for you! Thanks for beta reading this. 💕
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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You’ve been in Winterfell for a moon’s turn by now, and have quickly noticed that the ancestral castle possesses a beauty and calmness the Red Keep can be jealous of. But even that isn’t enough to make you feel at home – as if you could ever call a place your home again. Not after you’ve witnessed almost everyone in your family, no matter whether you liked them or not, perish at the hands of each other. 
It was on request of your younger brother, now dubbed King Aegon the third, or rather of his small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And while you’re grateful for the chance to flee the one place that has caused you more hurt than good, riding in a carriage up to the far North like a commoner wasn’t exactly pleasant. 
But how else should you have gotten there when your precious mount died along its kind as the common people stormed the Dragonpit?
For the past month, you’ve very rarely seen the sun – or anyone else than your maids. 
Your days are spent in your chambers, not leaving the safety of the Guest House as you often try to find the sleep you can’t seem to get at night. And during the night, when the Hour of the Owl strikes and no light other than that of the moon reaches Winterfell, one often finds you wandering the quiet halls of the castle. Sometimes one even spots you outside in the Godswood, regardless of the low temperatures that make the three pools fed by an underground hot spring look even more inviting. 
But warmth and comfort are never what you’re after. 
You feel incredibly daring tonight, sitting beneath the ancient weirwood tree on one of its roots. Although there is a thick fur coat draped around your frame, the thin nightgown beneath does not allow you to be kept as warm as one usually desires, your bare feet hidden inside of the coat not a big help either. 
Tiptoeing barefoot through the snow was the hardest part, but it was worth it as it gave you exactly what your body longs for. 
You’re far too absorbed by the reflection of the moon dancing on the pool of black water beneath the tree, and the peaceful allure of the snow-covered night that you don’t notice you’re not alone anymore.  
“Princess?” a husky voice rings out from the shadows, one you’d even recognize in a room full of loud and drunken men. 
Almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, the tall frame of the Lord of Winterfell approaches you without any sudden moves, becoming more visible with the moonlight shining down on him. “What are you doing out here this late?”
Only when he’s stopping not far away from you do you avert your eyes from him to the water again. “I could ask you the same, Lord Stark,” you reply softly. 
A chuckle rumbles in his chest at your remark, and you can’t help the tint of heat hearing it brings to your cheeks. “Indeed you could,” he says. “I have not slept well, and the night has a peaceful allure. But you should not be out in the open without any guards, especially not this late at night.”
You drag your index finger through the snow at your side, drawing a mindless pattern in the dark as you do not pay any mind to his words. “And why is that, Lord Stark?” you ask, a certain snarkiness to your tone. “There is nothing worse that could happen to me than what I have already endured.”
Cregan sighs, and even in the dim light you can make out that he’s scratching his stubble covered chin. “And yet, should something else happen to you, I would not like myself for neglecting you and not protecting you just as I have sworn to the king,” he explains. “Besides, there is a cold chill in the air that I can not believe you are not feeling right now.”
“Perhaps that is the answer you’ve been looking for, my lord,” you mumble. “Perhaps I came here to feel something.”
The Wolf of the North doesn’t immediately answer you. Instead, there lingers a pause between you. But it’s not uncomfortable or feels as though it doesn't pass, no, you find yourself to actually enjoy his company. 
His next words, however, even surprise you as you didn’t think he was capable of it. “Feeling the cold of the snow has its way to make one feel alive, that much is true,” he agrees, and then looks up to the dark sky. “You wish to feel something else than the pain of the absence of the people you’ve lost in this war, I understand… I think.”
His words make the feeling of emptiness, the hollowing ache of loss just worse, while at the same time, he seems to know the feeling of craving pain when you’re just so used to it. 
“This cold bite, the chill that lingers on the skin — no one should want to feel it, Princess. It makes even my bones shake, do you know that? Surely you must be shivering, and we should be getting you inside. I should be getting you inside.”
You know he‘s right. While his words are blunt in nature, they are very much that of truth. You shouldn’t be out here, nor should you want to be out here. There‘s nothing to enjoy about this cold chill and the snow, not when you‘re as sparsely dressed as you are. You‘re not yet used to the chill of Winterfell, of the North. 
Cregan offers you his hand, but you‘re still hesitant to take it. Albeit you reach out, your significantly smaller hand hovers over his, not yet grabbing it. “You‘re not exactly wearing proper attire to be out in this wretched cold for very long,“ he remarks. “Let me help you get up, your feet must be in agony by now.“
“And what if I don‘t want to?“
“Then I will still get you up.“ There is a tinge of amusement in his voice now, seeing this little bit of rebelliousness from you, your strength of mind. Even if he doesn’t exactly approve of it. “I shall simply pick you up myself, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you inside to your chambers, even though I‘d get you quite angry and don‘t imagine you want me to do just that.“
You don’t believe he actually has the gumption to do something like that at first, although you know he’s able to muster a decent amount of strength that would easily allow him to lift you up. But then, you wonder if he would truly do it if challenged. “Try that, if you dare, my lord.”
He lets out a snort of amusement, enjoying the teasing that slowly shapes between you two. It still is a challenge, and as a man of his station, he could never let words like this go unspoken. “Oh, I dare, Princess.” 
Putting forth his arm, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and easily pulls you forwards onto your feet without applying too much pressure. You’re certainly caught off guard by his actual willingness to lift you up, and a squeal escapes your lips before you’re tossed on his strong shoulder as if you are some silly, helpless girl. 
Cregan carries you through the Godswood and towards the Guest House, though you don’t resist too much as you’re hanging there over his shoulder – a part of you is grateful you don’t have to walk through the snow with your bare feet once more. 
“Lord Stark, put me down at once!” you demand with a little twinge of laughter in your voice. You feel so light, much lighter than you imagine he’s used to lifting up, almost as if it’s taken all of the pressure off your shoulders. 
But when there doesn’t come an answer from him, you grow slightly frustrated. “What if anyone sees, you madman!” you remark, embarrassment warming your cheeks. 
“Madman? That’s rich coming from the woman who was willing to freeze to death in the snow,” he says jokingly, approaching the large doors. “Who do you think could see us at this hour, princess? The rats? And what if they do? What if someone sees me carrying the poor princess, who had the gall to get out of her bed after midnight and wander the Godswood while in her nightgown?” Although there is amusement in his voice, you also notice the faintest hint of flirtation laced within. “Will they judge me for carrying her, or would they judge her for her imprudent midnight excursion?”
You stay silent thrown over his shoulder, not sure how to reply. You thought you had a good comeback, but it seems Cregan is one step ahead of you. The flirtatious teasing you’ve heard catches you off guard, not expecting to hear it from him at all. It makes your cheeks flush with even more embarrassment when you notice that he’s actually right. But you don’t want to admit the truth in what he’s said. 
“You mock me, but you shall see there would be much scandal if someone were to see this,” you retort, trying to keep calm as you’re now a little bit flustered by these sudden developments. “Besides,” you say, trying to remain unbothered and nonchalant, “who says I won’t tell a tale of you being the imprudent one?”
“Ah, you little rascal,” Cregan replies with a chuckle, giving your thigh a tight squeeze. “I see you’d find a way to turn the tides and have it end up with me being the bad guy, taking my chances on a vulnerable woman in the guise of protecting her.”
You’re clearly enjoying the teasing a tad too much, enjoying these quick and witty back-to-backs with him, taking your mind off of your grief. Drawing in a deep breath, you hold onto Cregan’s thick coat. “What would you have been protecting me from, Lord Stark?” you ask with feigned innocence. “Were the trees too menacing that you just had to sweep me off my feet to carry me away from their clutches?”
“No, I am afraid it was not the trees that had me worried, Princess,” Cregan replies as he brings you further into the Guest House, easily opening the door to the sleeping quarters with one hand. “The cold was the greater menace, and it had you in its grasp.”
Your words die in your throat when he puts you down on your bed, the soft furs very welcomed beneath your cold feet. You look up at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest as he towers over your significantly smaller frame, and you wait for him to make the next move. 
There’s a moment of silence between you, obviously he’s considering his next words. 
And boy do they disappoint you. “I shall make sure a fire is lit for you to warm yourself, princess,” he says, turning around to approach the hearth on the other side of the room. 
Cregan crouches down to build and start a small fire in the hearth that should last the night, not wanting you to stay too cold. But you wouldn’t be a thoroughbred dragon if it didn’t mean for you to take any risks. And so you get onto your cold feet, the coat still draped around your shoulders sliding down to the ground. 
Feeling a bit too exposed too quickly, you grab one of the thick fur blankets laying on your bed instead and wrap it around your frame, before you tiptoe towards the large wolf kneeling in front of the fireplace. 
“I have something different in mind,” you speak softly. Cregan, startled by your words and your sudden approach, turns around and faces you as he rises to his feet. You reach and bury your hands in the collar of his coat, the blanket falling to the ground in the process, and when you use your grip to pull him close, you find that he does not shy away in the least – if anything, he follows the tug to connect your lips in a heated kiss. 
He brings his large hands to your waist with ease, and presses his body against yours. The wolf feels like he’s drowning in you, in your lips, your warmth, your presence and scent. Wanting to lose himself in the moment, in you, his hands wander lower to your hips. 
“I did not expect you to do this tonight,” he breathes against your lips, breaking the silence. 
“And I did not expect some things from you tonight either,” you reply, breathlessly, voice breaking with every breath you take. “Is that a bad thing?”
His voice is low and smooth as he speaks, shaking his head. “Quite the contrary.” There is a flirtatious smile on his lips, and a playfulness you haven’t seen before in his gray eyes. It’s as if that small spark between you has quickly evolved into an inferno that now burns bright in the both of you. 
It’s a fierce and burning kiss when your lips connect once more, fueled by the fires coursing through your veins. You release a soft whimper with his large paws trailing over your sides, feeling the fabric of your nightgown. 
“If we continue this, I won’t be able to stop myself,” he rasps.
You tilt your head back to look at him, a cheeky grin on your lips. “Perhaps I do not want you to.”
Cregan’s eyebrows raise at your reply, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist once more. He can’t help but feel a jolt of arousal run down his back, which prompts him to release a low chuckle. “Well, if you wish for it that much…” he whispers in response, before pulling you back toward him, kissing you passionately. 
A breathless chuckle slips past your lips as you pull back from him, licking your kiss swollen lips. “But there are a few things we need to get you out of first,” you tease, tugging at the thick, furry coat that’s draped over his broad shoulders. 
“Are you this eager to have your hands over all of me?” he replies with a flirtatious smirk, but still unclips the coat and lets it fall to the ground. He doesn’t mind you seeming quite intent to get him out of his armor, allowing you to fumble with the clasps and buckles, and eventually helps you remove the heavy bits until he’s left wearing nothing but his breeches. But even those are quickly unlaced by you, left to be a puddle around his feet. 
“My my, do you not feel a little too hot still, Lord Stark?” you tease, letting your fingers wander over his exposed stomach. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping onto your cheeks as you see him in such little clothing, so exposed. He’s a muscular man, tall and large, and the sight of his bare skin with the dark of hair on his chest and a trail of it running below his undergarments is a welcoming one. 
Through the linen you see that he’s already hard and begging, waiting for you to take things further. Truly a shame you seem to relish in the teasing. 
Goosebumps prickle on his skin in the wake of your finger, making you smile. You drag your finger along the waistband of his undergarments, hooking it beneath to tug on it. He knows what you desire, and he’s not ashamed to give you just that. “I do not see you so eager to remove your own clothes, Princess,” he teases, undoing the laces in the front for his undergarments to join his breeches. “It is hardly fair you want to see all of me, yet I am not allowed to do the same.”
You take in a sharp breath at the sight of his hard cock, standing to full attention. It has you licking your lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you’re quick to pull your nightgown over your head, a smirk on your lips. A flimsy piece of linen conceals what lies between your legs, but it’s still enough for him to all but devour your almost bare frame. 
“There,” you whisper, “now we are on equal grounds.”
Cregan takes a moment to look over you, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts fully exposed mto him. He knows you’re no maiden who’s completely untouched, you wouldn’t be as confident if you were, but it doesn’t stop him from appreciating the sight in front of him. 
“Equal grounds, truly?” he asks you, taking a step toward you. One arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against him, as his other hand fists the linen of your smallclothes. “I think you still have an advantage over me, Princess. Because I have yet to see what lies beneath your undergarments.”
Your palms rest flatly against his chest, and you press a chaste kiss to his skin. “I will not stop you, Lord Stark,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. 
“Then let’s make these ‘equal grounds’ a little bit more equal, hm?” Cregan whispers as well. He sinks to his knees with his mouth trailing a path down your body, licking and kissing over your skin until he reaches your navel. His large hands trail over your sides and thighs on his way down, the movement and sight making your breath hitch in your throat. 
A shudder ripples through your body as he tugs your smallclothes down your legs, and while you watch him with your hands buried in his dark curls, his eyes are all but focused on what’s between your legs. 
He drapes one of your legs over his broad shoulder, his dark blown eyes darting up to meet yours, and before you can make any teasing remark, his mouth is on you. A gasp catches in your throat. “Cregan, please,” you whimper, forgetting all courtesies the moment his tongue drags through your slit. There’s no softness, no gentleness in the way he all but devours your cunt, the previous teasing having made his patience run thin. 
Your head tips back in pleasure as his tongue alternates between sliding into you and swirling around your pearl, noticing both options have you grind your hips against his face. The tip of his nose rubs so perfectly against your pearl when his mouth pays attention to your entrance, and Cregan’s fingers dig into your flesh with your body tensing up already, keeping you steady. 
The Wolf of the North growls against your cunt as if he’s truly turned into one, devouring you with all he’s got, the sheer pleasure brought by his tongue and lips taking over you. 
As you look down at him again, you find him already staring up at you, watching you carefully as you slowly but surely unravel on his tongue. It’s intense, but you’re captivated enough not to break eye contact. 
“Gods, yes, I–” you whimper, and fall apart all over his tongue with a shudder. If it wasn’t for Cregan’s paws on your body, you would have lost balance by now, especially with the way he seemed to work his tongue in and out of you faster just in rhythm to his nose rubbing your pearl. 
He pulls away from you slowly as your peak subsides, and with his beard and lips glistening with the remnants of your arousal, how could you not pounce on him right then and there?
He supports his body with one arm placed on the ground and stretches his legs as you push yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his strong neck. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes you moan against his lips before you deepen the kiss. 
Cregan’s hard cock is nestled between your bodies, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around it, stroking him once, twice, before you shift your hips and slowly sink down on him. 
Muscular arms completely wrap around your waist, making you very well aware of the size difference between the two of you. You’re significantly smaller than him, and relish in the feeling of being safe and protected with him around. You two haven’t been too close upon your arrival in the North, but it seems that there has been a hidden attraction lingering for quite some time. 
You know your hips would sooner or later become sore from pumping him with your core, hence you stick to rocking your hips back and forth with his cock stuffed deep inside you. It’s intimate and slow, but with the coarse hairs around the base of his cock dragging over your pearl with each swivel of your hips, you’re still racing for completion. 
While he mouths along your jaw and the curve of your throat, one of his hands comes up to cup your breast. Rolling the perky bud between his index finger and thumb, the slight sting works wonders to amplify the pleasure coursing through your veins. 
“By the Seven,” you whimper, grinding your hips against him with more determination. 
There comes a sharp hiss in return from him, barely audible between the open mouthed kisses he presses to your collar bones. You’re clawing at his shoulders and neck by now, scratching it despite the sensuality of your movements, and it feels as though you’re even drawing blood. But he doesn’t care about that – he rather enjoys having a woman that doesn’t hold back. 
Trailing his lips up to your throat, he nudges your chin with his nose, prompting you to tip your head back. “It’s not them you need to pray to right now, Princess,” Cregan rasps, a clear strain to his voice. “But perhaps I should take that as a compliment, hm?”
His words cause you to chuckle, and you’re grateful that he’s quickly distracted by kissing your throat again, because otherwise he might have noticed the heat his words bring to your cheeks. “If that is…” you trail off panting, burying your hand in his curls to tug his head back, forcing him to look up at you. The sight of his dark blown eyes hungrily gazing at you sends a shiver down your spine. You feel desired. “If that is a compliment, then I shall have to say it much more often.”
You’re not sure if it’s the fact you state wanting to compliment him more often, or if he’s just not used to having an appreciative lover in general, but your words seem to flip a switch inside of him. You quickly find yourself lowered on the fur blankets, warming your back while the flames heat up your skin and Cregan your blood. 
Nestled between your legs, he’s growing more determined now, the sensual rocking of your hips clearly not enough for him, but you don’t mind it. As much as you enjoy being in control, setting the tone, you also revel in following the lead. 
He’s propped up on one elbow, supporting himself as he thrusts into you, rolling his hips that make his cock drag so expertly against the sweet spot inside of you. 
With one hand, you hold onto his broad shoulder, digging your nails into his skin, while the other gropes at his chest, teasing his bud just like he’s done with yours before. The feeling of his coarse hairs beneath your fingers feels somewhat strange at first, for Aemond hasn’t had as much chest hair as Cregan does, but it’s also comforting. 
The familiar coil in the pit of your belly tightens slowly with his hips snapping into yours over and over again, split open by his hard cock.  
“Will you fill me up, my lord?” you moan breathily, arching your back with your breasts pressing against his sturdy frame. 
Cregan releases a choked groan at the question, and for a moment you can feel his hips stutter. You briefly wonder if you’ve pushed your luck too far, especially with him not replying immediately, until his raspy voice cuts through the heavy pants and moans. 
“Only if you let me take you to wife, Princess.” 
You inevitably clench down around him as a small, hiccuped gasp catches in your throat, resulting in Cregan drawing in a sharp breath. The haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s now giving back to you. And you let it flood you. 
Your hand comes from his chest to his biceps, holding onto it as you gather your thoughts. His hips haven’t slowed down one bit, and he’s truly expecting you to answer as if he wasn’t repeatedly impaling you on his cock right now. 
Staring up at him with wide eyes, your voice isn’t any louder than a whisper. “It would be foolish of me to turn this offer down,” you reply.
An impish smirk dances along Cregan’s features. “Is that meant to be a yes?”
“Y-Yes, it is, “ you whimper beneath him, arching your back once more. 
The warmth of his body, his weight and scent cloud your every being, and his thrusts are determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him. 
His hand snakes between your bodies, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the coarse hair around his cock has granted you at least a bit of friction, it’s not enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circles over the little bud, fully coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly is close to snapping. 
“Then I just might,” he grunts in return. 
Your body jerks at the sudden touch, but his muscular frame between your legs is enough to keep you pinned to the ground. “I need you… Cregan,” you whimper, bringing a hand behind his head to pull him down for a heated kiss. Your lips hardly part to release whimpers and moans, swallowing each other’s sounds of pleasure without any shame. “Let me give you a spare.”
It appears that your words give him a new-found vigor that leaves you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. As you start to roll your hips against his thumb, you not only create some friction that feeds your pleasure but his as well. It’s not long after that your peak washes over you with a soft gasp, walls clenching around him like a vice. 
With your small frame trembling between his strong arms, Cregan releases a strained grunt, his own peak being milked out of him by your cunt fluttering around his cock. He keeps on dragging his thumb over your sensitive pearl, prolonging your peak and the pleasure that comes with it.
You stare up at him with wide eyes as you’re milking him for every drop, because there’s something so vulnerable in this wolf of a man, towering over you with his skin glistening with sweat, so desperate to fill you with his seed and breed you. 
The last jolts of his peak force him to languidly rut his hips into yours, desperately chasing the feeling of bliss that courses through your veins. His chest heaves with every heavy breath he takes, and the dark curls are damp and fall into his face. 
Only as Cregan is certain there’s not one drop of his seed left inside of him does he slowly stop his ministrations, and the hand that has toyed with your bud seizes your hips, stilling them.
His erratic breaths fans over your sweaty skin with his lips pressing to your temple. The feeling of being whole with him doesn’t leave you, not when his weight pins you down and keeps you grounded, easing your tumbled mind.  
“I shall welcome the arrival of any child you bear me,” Cregan says, inevitably breaking the silence. 
A smile spreads across your lips as you wrap your legs around his hips, and your arms around his neck. “Be careful what you wish for. My children will certainly be just as stubborn as me.”
His heart is practically pounding against his ribs, and he can feel himself on the verge of being lost by your touch alone again. You make him go wild and feral, your bold and flirtatious nature bringing out another side to him that’s completely unexpected. And yet it feels so right.  
The teasing banter brings a smile to his lips and a light to his gray eyes, your wit and humor shining through. “Let them be stubborn, then,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “They only need to be half as feisty as you, and I shall be the happiest man in Winterfell.”
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lxkeee · 4 months
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE
pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fanfiction
notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]
warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR
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Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.
“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.
His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.
He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.
Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?
As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.
“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?
Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.
“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”
Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.
Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.
“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.
My Dearest Lucifer
His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer
“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.
My Dearest, Lucifer
       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.
“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).
“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.
“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?
Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.
Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.
How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.
But now...
Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.
Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.
“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.
Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.
He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.
[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.
Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.
Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.
“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.
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A bit of a timeskip....
It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.
Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.
“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.
“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”
[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.
Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”
[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”
Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”
“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.
“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.
“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.
“That's it, you've crossed the line!”
“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”
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You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.
Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.
After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.
I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.
Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.
[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.
Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.
Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.
I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.
I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.
Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?
For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.
Terrifying.
[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.
“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.
Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.
It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.
She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.
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END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE
TAGLIST:
@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover
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rinkkuma · 4 months
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୨୧ JUJUSTU HIGH CAMPUS CRUSHES
ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro
tags. highschool au, (but could be viewed as college kinda) gn!reader, a bit of cussing, all fluff ! / author's note. got a little carried away but its fine… :3
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SATORU is everyone's hallway crush, you included. luckily for you, he was in one of your classes. he sat a few seats in front of you that gave you the perfect view that allowed you to look at him, and not get caught staring. (but you've almost gotten caught on multiple occasions due to him whipping his head around like he could feel your stare he could) one day to your surprise, (or horror) your teacher switched seats for the new semester and he was sitting next to you. the second your teacher said his and your name, your heart started racing so fast. it didn't help when you sat down next to him and your heart started to pound out of your chest. you were afraid that he could hear it. and oh my god, was he ten times more handsome up close. your first impression of his personality, was.. not good. he was ever so slightly annoying (teasing you and whatnot) and asked you for a pencil. every. goddamn. day. the first few times you've handed him a pencil without really acknowledging it. but days turned into weeks of him asking you for a pencil. (it's actually his master plan, and he thinks since you've held the pencil before and now he's holding it, it's like indirectly holding hands with you!) he was a little shit to be honest, but at least that could help you cover your crush on him anyway.
YUTA has to bear the misfortune of having no classes with you. the poor boy never even sees you in the hallways during passing period either. no classes, no passing you in the halls—nothing. the only time he's ever seen you was during orientation. but the fact that your friends with maki, tells him he still has a little luck. although you and maki aren't in the same friend group, she still occasionally finds you during lunch to chat with you. since maki knows that yuta has a tiny crush on you, she lets him tag along whenever she visits you. you immediately light up when you see maki, waving to her with a smile, but when you see yuta, you visibly tense up. you had seen him in a few of maki's instagram posts and couldn't help but think he was maybe, a tiny bit cute. however, you quickly compose yourself as maki catches you up on anything in her life, and you catch her up on yours. when you smiled or laughed at whatever maki had just said, (he wasn't listening to a single word that came out of either of your mouths) yuta melted. your smile, was so so cute. and your laugh, he could listen to it all day. maybe yuta will engage in the conversation next time, to be the one to make you laugh.
SUGURU is your out-of-this world handsome deskmate. you've been sitting next to him since the first day, (since your teacher actually assigned seats) and oh my god. not only does he have the looks, he's also a gentleman, a sweetheart, and everything in between. lends you pencils or paper whenever you need it, always grabs materials for the two of you if you ever need to get out of your seat to get them, and walks you to your next class. one day though while the two of you were walking to your class after lunch, a boy with white hair who was roughly around the same height as suguru, came up to him and mumbled something along the lines of, “so, when are you gonna ask them out?” as he wiggled his eyebrows. maybe you misheard, but either way your heart started pounding. suguru gives the boy an annoyed, eyes-wide open look and pushes him away before laughing and apologizing for him. (he was secretly praying that you did not hear any of that) suguru thinks that satoru has teased him enough about his deskmate, and maybe he really should ask you out soon.
YUUJI is the boy in your math who can't help but stare at you in class. he's might or might not have been caught by you a few times but hey, you think he's cute too. and since he's too busy staring at you, he has no clue what is going on in class. what does this mean? it's a perfect opportunity for him to ask you to help him! one day after class, he enthusiastically asked you to help him with a few practice problems, (there was a quiz coming up, so he hoped he didn't look obvious) and you agreed. you were going to finally talk to the boy who you had been crushing on for the past couple months, but you could totally mess up your first impression. what if you weren't a good enough tutor? what if— oh. that didn't matter anymore because before you knew it, the day you had scheduled to tutor him had arrived. to your surprise, he's early and already sitting at a table in your school library with all of his materials out. truth be told, he was freaking out in his head and just wanted to look organized and prepared with all of his things already out. after setting your things down and pulling out your materials, you begin to teach him the concept—oh my god. yuuji cannot pay attention for the life of him right now because of your voice. it's so soothing that he doesn't break out of this trance until you whisper yell his name about 10 times. he realizes he so has a massive crush on you.
MEGUMI was the quiet (but cute!) boy who got paired up with you during a group project. fortunately for you, he was the type to actually pull their weight in a group project rather than just letting the other person do all the work and taking credit for it. you couldn't help but notice that he was kinda, sorta cute as well. and maybe you've tried finding him on social media, but ended up being too scared to follow him. he surprisingly still talked to you even after you finished the project, and even paired up with you willingly from that point on. he seemingly got more comfortable around you and started opening up and talking more. he cracked jokes every once in a while, which if you were being honest with yourself weren't that funny, but you laugh anyway. a few months into the school year, megumi realizes that he might just have a crush on you. he was always looking forward to class with you, and he swore he felt butterflies in his stomach whenever you walked into class. megumi starts to wonder if he should start asking his friends for advice..
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forzalando · 4 months
Text
Seeing Someone
Lando Norris x friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: Lando is finally ready to tell you how he feels when he overhears you say that you've started seeing someone - but overheard conversations aren't always what they seem. wc: 5.5k author's note: a few disclaimers: 1. let's all pretend that everyone has to spend a few weeks at MTC before the start of the season and they commute to/from London. 2. therapy and mental health help are so important - i purposefully left some things vague because people go to therapy for a variety of reasons and it should be normalized! i also didn't want things to get too heavy or potentially upset anyone by choosing to elaborate on something they relate to/hits a little too close to home. 3. this was inspired by a post i saw on my dash that said "when you said you were seeing someone i was hoping you meant a therapist". this originally started out more light-hearted, but the angst came out and i couldn't stop. feeling a little insecure about this one - thoughts and feelings in the comments/reblogs/my inbox would be so cherished and appreciated :) once again, special shoutout to @sof1shticated for being my beta reader. couldn't do this without you, Mel! warnings: mentions of reader going to therapy, mentions of reader drinking, a few curse words (i think), and angst! but there is a happy ending (even if it's a little open-ended)
Lando had searched the entirety of McLaren HQ at this point and started to worry – you were quite literally nowhere to be found. Usually, this wouldn’t phase him, since you were notorious for getting distracted or caught up in conversation with everyone you came across. You especially found ways to delay leaving MTC when you had to be there physically – the commute from HQ back to London each day was objectively the worst part of everyone coming together in the weeks leading up to each new season.
Today, however, the two of you had plans to get dinner at your favorite restaurant in London and you would never miss a chance to devour your favorite scallop risotto, cheese garlic bread, several glasses of wine, and a heaping mound of tiramisu for dessert.
He stopped speed-walking abruptly when he saw a familiar head of brown hair out of the corner of his eye.
“OSCAR,” Lando shouted, his speed-walk turning into a run. “Oscar, have you seen Y/N? She told me to meet at her office at 5:00pm but it’s 5:30pm and she is literally missing. She better have a good excuse, I hate being late.”
“Missing? Are you sure she’s not just caught up in a meeting? I saw her heading to Zak’s office around 4:45pm, did you check there?”
“Zak’s office, of course! The one place I didn’t check. Thanks, Osc, you’re the man.”
Oscar rolled his eyes – “Anytime, Lan. What are you running late for? Hot date?”
Lando didn’t miss the wiggle of Oscar’s eyebrows and slight smirk. It wasn’t a secret to the Australian that Lando had a crush on Y/N – although Lando had never confirmed or denied it, it was pretty obvious to anyone who spent more than 30 seconds around them.
“Ah, something like that,” Lando said nonchalantly, a bashful blush making its way to his cheeks.
“Good luck, mate!” Oscar threw a wave over his shoulder as he heard the retreating sound of Lando’s trainers smacking against the floor.
In truth, although you and Lando were just friends and Lando was terrified he may ruin that, he had plans to tell you about his feelings for you that night at dinner. It had been almost a year since you started working for McLaren, and almost a year of Lando pining after you in secret. He spent most days trying to convince himself he was content just being your friend, but he was determined to make 2024 his year. His first win, hopefully of many, maybe even WDC contender material, and finally plucking up the courage to be honest with you.
As Lando hurriedly approached Zak’s office, he could see that the door was slightly ajar and heard your voice trailing through the opening.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, Zak. And a massive thank you for approving the time off on such late notice.”
“Anytime, Y/N, you know you’re like family to me and everyone here. You sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, I’m seeing someone. It’s still new so I’m not set on him yet but I have a really good feeling about it, I’m really starting to wish I had called him sooner. He actually suggested the days off, I’m seeing him on Tuesday and hopefully things continue to go well.”
Lando’s heart dropped to his stomach – all week he had been thinking about tonight. How to tell you, how you might react, how nervous he was, and each day he grew even more anxious. He was panicking – what was he supposed to do? How could he sit across from you all night knowing that he’d missed his chance?
“That’s so good to hear,” Zak said earnestly. “Keep me updated and enjoy your days off.”
Lando could hear chairs scraping and scrambled to leave the scene before you walked out of Zak’s office to find him eavesdropping. He got about 50 feet down the hallway before he heard your voice from behind.
“Lan,” you shouted. “I’m so sorry, I’m totally late but I had to meet with Zak about something and his last meeting went way over.”
You jogged a little to catch up to him – a bright smile on your face that made his heart rate skyrocket and his palms grow sweaty. He couldn’t see you feeling like this. Not tonight, not when he could barely keep himself from telling you that he would be a much better boyfriend than whoever you were dating.
“We still on for dinner? I grabbed everything I needed from my office before I met with Zak so if we leave right this second and ignore the speed limit, they may seat us,” you bumped his shoulder as you joked.
Unable to help himself, only thinking about how hurt he was even though you’d done nothing wrong, Lando blurted out an excuse. “Actually, I was trying to find you to tell you I can’t make it.”
He tried not to react when he saw your face fall a little, but he told himself it was because you were disappointed about the last-minute change in plans and not that he wasn’t going.
“You should still go though,” he offered quickly. “I’m sure you have someone you could take with you!”
Your eyes spotted Oscar across the hallway and you smiled slightly – it had been a while since you had spent time with him and you knew he was having a rough week.
“Yeah, I have someone in mind,” you mused, focusing your eyes back on Lando. “Is everything ok? Are you not feeling well?”
“No, I’m fine, I just forgot I have plans.”
“Well, we had plans. You scheduled over me?”
“It’s a last-minute thing. Date thing. Last-minute date thing.”
“Oh,” you gasped. “Oh, that’s great!” You plastered a fake smile on your face – hoping that he was just as oblivious now as he apparently is to your feelings. “I hope you have a great time, she’s a lucky girl! I’ll see you on Wednesday, I’m taking a couple days off!”
Before he had a chance to say anything else, you sped off in search of Oscar to bribe him to accompany you to dinner. While you set off across the room, Lando smacked himself in the forehead and groaned.
“Why did you tell her it was a date, you idiot,” he mumbled to himself. Now, it was his turn to speed walk through McLaren HQ, but if he had turned around just for a moment, he would have caught you stopped in your tracks staring at him longingly as he walked away.
You shook your head and sighed, continuing your quest to find the younger McLaren driver and rope him into an evening filled with good food and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably a few tears.
A few moments later, you spotted floppy brown hair bouncing as Oscar walked toward the employee parking lot.
“Oscar!” You yelled after him, increasing your pace to catch up to him.
“Hey,” he said, confusion evident on his face, “I thought you were going out with Lando?”
“He’s got a date,” you blurted. “He has a date and he canceled on me and it’s fine. I am fine. But I want my scallop risotto and tiramisu so you’re coming with me.”
“Sure, Y/N, lead the way.”
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Oscar was, to put it extremely lightly, confused. Lando was completely enamored by you – anyone with eyes could see it. Oscar was wholly convinced that Lando was going to officially ask you out at dinner tonight, especially after the brief conversation they had while you were late to meet up with him.
Yet, here he was, sat across from you in a dimly lit room as you sipped on your third glass of wine and, with all the subtlety of a neon sign, wiped a tear from your lower lash line.
“It’s not that I’m not happy for him, I’m so happy for him. But canceling last minute is a dick move, right? It’s a dick move. I know I’m just his friend, sometimes I feel like just a colleague, but I’m not being dramatic, right?”
Oscar stared at you blankly – his eyes wide and a look of pure fear on his face. He considered himself good at most things, great at quite a few, but comforting a crying woman was bottom of the list of Oscar Piastri’s skills.
“It’s totally a dick move,” he nodded his head eagerly in agreement. “I just don’t get it – when I saw him earlier he was frantic trying to find you. I think he’d scoured the entirety of MTC, he was out of breath when I found him.”
“Well, at least he had the decency to find me and tell me in person that he planned on ditching me.”
“Yeah, but that’s just it, it didn’t seem like he was trying to find you to tell you that. He complained about being late and when I asked him if he had a hot date, he blushed.”
“He is literally on a hot date.”
“Ok, well, when I asked him I meant did he have a hot date specifically with you.”
You scoffed and set your glass down – as much as you loved Oscar and you knew he’d never judge you, if you had any more wine you’d end up sobbing and not just wiping stray tears away.
“As if! Lando has never once made a move on me even though I flirt, or at least try to flirt, with him any chance I get.”
“You flirt with Lando?”
“I made him a personalized Spotify playlist, had Stroopwafels overnighted to him from The Netherlands after Vegas, bought him a sweater for his birthday with a card that said ‘to match your eyes’, and I compliment him every time I see him.”
“That’s your idea of flirting?”
“Well, yes.”
“Y/N, that’s just being nice to people. You’re nice to everyone. Lando is not going to understand that you’re a little extra nice to him and that means you’re trying to woo him.”
You huffed and slumped in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Ok, well, how would you flirt with Lando?”
“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”
“Yes because apparently you know all about flirting! And by the way, Logan thought I was coming onto him when I was just being nice so some people would consider my actions flirtatious.”
“That doesn’t count, Logan thinks Uber drivers are flirting with him when they say ‘have a nice day’.”
You and Oscar shared a laugh at the mention of your mutual friend – somehow an even more hopeless case than you in the world of romance.
Your laughs turned to giggles and eventually died down completely. A sigh climbed its way out of your throat, the sudden change in your mood evident to Oscar.
“It doesn’t matter anyway – he’s seeing someone so no more trying, and according to you failing, to flirt.”
“You don’t know how serious it is, maybe this was a first date and it’ll go horribly. He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re worried about, he was just saying the other day that Lily and I make him feel painfully single. We can ask him about it on Monday!”
You frowned a bit and tried to recover, but Oscar noticed the way your face fell slightly. “I’m actually taking a few days off, I need some personal time. I won’t be back at MTC until Wednesday.”
“Is everything ok? You don’t have to tell me but if you need anything, you know I’m there for you, right?”
You smiled at Oscar – it was a rare thing to find such great friends in the people you worked with, but you got so incredibly lucky with the McLaren team, especially Lando and Oscar. “I know that, Osc. You’re a gem.”
With a nod of understanding, Oscar changed the subject to something more pleasant, and you enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friend.
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When Wednesday morning rolled around, you felt like your stomach might explode from nerves. You had resisted texting Lando over the past few days to ask about his date, you didn’t want to seem too eager and hoped it would come up naturally in conversation during the day. You hadn’t talked to Oscar much, though he’d texted you a few times to check in, but you wondered if he had talked to Lando at all and if he had details on how well Lando’s date went.
You arrived at MTC fairly early, hoping to get a head start on your day. Winter break was nearly over, and you were swamped with finalizing everything for the start of the 2024 season. It wasn’t until lunch that you saw Lando at all and he just so happened to be waiting in your office, sitting comfortably in your chair, while you were walking back from your latest meeting.
“Lando! What are you doing here?”
“I, uh,” he scrambled. “I was just…I don’t know really. I guess I wanted to see you, we haven’t talked in a few days since you’ve been out.”
“Well, we’ve both been busy. You could’ve texted me. How was your date?”
“It was good. Great. How about yours?”
You smiled remembering your evening with Oscar, assuming he had told Lando at some point that he had accompanied you. “Honestly so fun, we had the best time. I hope we get to do it again soon.”
Lando cringed – jealousy rearing its ugly head as he looked down at his feet before answering. “Same, I’ll probably go out with her again this weekend.”
“Good for you,” you gritted. “I’m glad you had fun. I actually have a million things to do so if there’s nothing important…”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to see you. I guess we’ll catch up soon? Hope you enjoyed your days off.”
Mustering up a fake smile, you told him definitely, awkwardly standing as he rose from your desk and left your office. As soon as he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear you, you groaned. The tension between you and Lando was unbearable, though you didn’t understand why it seemed to mostly be coming from him. Before you had a chance to think any further, you could hear your phone buzzing from inside your bag and begrudgingly pulled it out to see a text from Oscar.
did you go on a date over the weekend?
no? why are you asking me that?
well then why did lando just sit across from me and say ‘did Y/N tell you anything about her date?’
he was just in my office, I asked him how his date went and he asked about ‘mine’. i assumed he was talking about Friday and that you told him i brought you?
i never told him, i guess he thought you brought a real date?
You paused before responding to Oscar, confusion evident on your face and in your lack of response. Before you could type out a reply, two more texts came in.
ok something is up because i just told him that i went with you on friday and he said “i know, i saw you in her insta story in the reflection of a wine glass, i’m talking about yesterday”
insane that he looked close enough to see me in your wine glass but not the point
i literally haven’t been on a date in two years
let me figure this out
You slid your phone back into your bag and pulled out your laptop – your Lando problems would have to wait until you were at least somewhat caught up after missing two days so close to the start of the season.
Meanwhile, at a conference room table in MTC, Oscar was confused. Which, as of late, was a common occurrence when it came to you and Lando.
“Mate,” Oscar addressed Lando, “if you’re not talking about Friday, what date did you ask Y/N about? She hasn’t been on a date in forever.”
“Well then he must have canceled on her because she was supposed to have plans yesterday, it’s why she took days off.”
“I don’t know the exact reason why she took days off but she told me on Friday that she was and didn’t seem too happy about it. Said it was personal reasons.”
“Going on a date is personal.”
“Not ‘take two days off of work’ personal! Where are you even getting this information?”
Lando looked away sheepishly, afraid to admit to Oscar that he had eavesdropped on a private conversation between you and Zak. With Oscar looking at him expectantly, and a bit like a pissed-off Mum, he blurted it out.
“I heard her talking to Zak! Last week on Friday, when I was looking for her, she was in his office and the door was cracked. She had asked him for a couple days off and talked about how she recently started seeing someone and was seeing him again on Tuesday aka yesterday.”
Now Oscar was really confused. You had cried over Lando publicly on Friday, and he knew you fairly well, which meant there was no way you would be crying over Lando and going out with someone else four days later.
“I think you need to just talk to her because I promise you, she is not seeing someone. Also, what do you care? You ditched her for a date on Friday.”
Oscar had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Lando’s face fall.
“Lando, tell me you didn’t.”
“I might have.”
“Jesus, Lando, you heard 30 seconds of a conversation and decided to lie to her? Because what, your ego took a blow? Some caveman instinct?”
“No, I don’t know, honestly. It just slipped out! I had planned to ask her out for real and when I heard her say ‘I’m seeing someone’, I just didn’t know how to be around her. I couldn’t be around her that night.”
“You need to go talk to her. Apologize. Preferably, immediately.”
Lando jumped up from his seat and sighed. “You’re right. She might kill me, and she has every right to, but I have to talk to her and apologize to her. Wish me luck!”
Before Oscar could do what Lando had asked, Lando raced off towards your office, barely stopping himself from tripping over his own two feet.
Across MTC, you had just settled your mind and gotten into a groove of catching up on emails and making progress on deadlines. As soon as you thought to yourself that the day was going better than expected, your office door flung open and Lando Norris was standing stiff in your doorway.
“Lan, I told you that I’m busy. What is going on?” Annoyance was evident in your voice and Lando cringed knowing that this conversation was probably not going to be very pleasant.
“Why did you take time off?”
Your body straightened in shock, of all the things he could have asked you after bombarding you in your office, you wouldn’t have guessed he would pry into your personal life.
“That’s none of your business, Lando. If you were worried about me, you could have reached out, but I haven’t heard from you since you ditched me on Friday.”
Lando could see the hurt on your face, he could see it evident in your body language. He thought back to how you had looked upset immediately when he told you on Friday that he couldn’t go with you – when he told himself it had nothing to do with you wanting to spend time with him.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for that, it wasn’t – I mean I didn’t, I didn’t want to not go. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Ok, I’m totally lost. You didn’t know what to do about what, Lando?”
He steeled himself for your reaction – something he had learned by being your friend for the past year was that you held trust and truth in high regard. You didn’t like being lied to, and you didn’t like people trying to dig into your life or get information you weren’t willing to share.
“I heard you in Zak’s office. I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose, I swear, I was looking for you because you were late meeting me. Oscar told me you might be with Zak so I went there and the door was open. And I heard you. So I lied and told you that I couldn’t go to dinner, I don’t know why I said I had a date. All I could focus on was how hurt I was, I just couldn’t be around you and then I felt so stupid and terrible for lying so that’s why I didn’t text you at all.”
You were completely and utterly perplexed – you couldn’t even react with anger at the thought of Lando listening to a private conversation and outright lying to you. What could he have overheard that he was so upset about?
“Lando, I’m still confused. What did you hear? How did I hurt you?”
“No, no, you didn’t hurt me. You have no idea how I feel about you – I was going to tell you that night.” Lando was word-vomiting at this point, he never wanted you to find out this way but he couldn’t stop rambling. “I have had feelings for you for so long, and I finally decided that I was going to tell you even if I was convinced you don’t feel the same. And now I know you don’t because you’re seeing someone and – ”
You interrupted him sternly, allowing the anger you were feeling to come forth and shoving down your confusion. “I’m not dating anyone? Is that why you asked Oscar about my ‘date’? Where did you get that idea?”
“You told Zak that you’re seeing someone and that it’s new but things are going good. I heard you say you were seeing him again on Tuesday.”
Your eyes doubled in size – if you weren’t so pissed off, you might have found humor in this, but you felt heat rising to your cheeks and your stomach churned at the thought of divulging your personal struggles.
“Lando, I’m seeing a therapist,” you hissed.
He froze for a moment, then scrambled to shut your door which was still ajar from him barging in.
“A therapist? Are you okay? What’s going on, why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been struggling?”
“No, no, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to make me less angry by being kind and caring.”
“I’m not doing it to make you less angry, Y/N, I genuinely – ”
“I don’t care, Lando! You eavesdropped on my private conversation, misunderstood the context of that conversation, and then you lied to me. You hurt me. And now, because you got your feelings hurt and did things you shouldn’t have done, I have to share something I wasn’t comfortable sharing with you just yet.”
Lando was speechless – you could see the remorse on his face, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but in that moment you wanted him to feel even worse than you were.
“And you want to know the worst part,” you cried. “I feel the same way about you. I cried to Oscar at dinner because I thought you were with someone else, that you would have rather been at dinner with a different girl.”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Can we please just go somewhere and talk? Really talk this out? I know I messed up, but this doesn’t have to change things or how we feel about each other.”
You wanted to, god, did you want to – you knew Lando hadn’t done any of this on purpose. You knew he didn’t have malicious intent and you knew how hurt he probably felt at the idea of you being with someone – it was exactly the way you felt when you thought the same about him.
“I think you should go, Lan”. Despite every part of you wanting to sit and talk, you knew that you needed some time to settle down.
“Ok,” he whispered. “When you’re ready,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, “if you’re ever ready, you know where to find me.”
His posture made you feel sick as he left your office – Lando was always confident, shoulders back and head held high, but as you watched him through the glass walls surrounding you, he was hunched over. Dejected. You’d only ever seen him that way a few times – after he was torn apart by the media or after making a mistake during a race.
It hurt you to see him that way. But, he had also hurt you, and you needed time.
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It had been two weeks since “the incident” with Lando – that’s what Oscar started calling it and it stuck. Fight felt too strong, disagreement felt too weak, so it became something nameless. Undefined. Indeterminate. Exactly like what existed now between you and Lando.
Oscar and Lando were set to leave for Sakhir in a week and you wouldn’t see them again until you joined the team for the Australian GP. If you didn’t work things out with Lando before they left for testing, it would be well over a month without a resolution.
The thought made your eyes burn with tears – you were still upset but more than that you missed Lando. You didn’t even have to wonder if he felt the same because you’d seen him around MTC. He looked just as awful as you, if not worse, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation.
You began packing up your things to leave the office, grateful beyond belief that it was a Friday and you’d have two days without seeing Lando’s familiar curls everywhere you turned. At least at home, you would only see them behind closed eyes and wouldn’t have to blink back tears.
A knock at your door startled you, but you assumed it was your team lead looking for your latest analytics report. At least there was one thing you could be happy about – the car data was phenomenal and all signs were pointing to an amazing season for McLaren.
You told whoever was knocking to come in, not looking up from your bag as you rifled through your files. “So sorry, Tom, I meant to bring this to you earlier but I – ”
A throat clearing cut you off, and you looked up to see Lando standing in your doorway with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and one of those cheesy “I’m sorry” balloons in his left hand. You almost giggled, but then you looked at his face and your heart dropped. Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes - he looked awful. 
“I know you said you’d reach out when you’re ready to talk, and I wanted to respect that and give you all the space you need. But, we’re both miserable. At least I think you’re miserable, I know I am. I miss you terribly. I miss my friend. And if that’s all you’ll ever be to me, I can respect that and I will cherish it because the past week has been the worst week of my life.”
“Lando, I – ”
“Please, please let me get all of this out. Please let me apologize.”
You smiled slightly, nodding your head for him to continue.
“I’m sorry for invading your privacy. It wasn’t on purpose but I should have left as soon as I heard you talking because I know how important trust is to you. I violated yours and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. It doesn’t matter if I was hurt, I could’ve just said I wasn’t feeling well or asked you about what I overheard immediately. After apologizing for overhearing, of course. I’m sorry that it took Oscar talking sense into me for me to come to you in the first place. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that I behaved like a child instead of talking to you about my feelings. My actions made you feel forced to tell me something personal that you weren’t ready to share. I’m so sorry, and I hope you know that I’m here for you always.”
He let out a deep breath and you watched his shoulders relax slightly for the first time in two weeks. You knew he was sorry – you’d known how sorry he was immediately when he started explaining and apologizing the first time around, but you just weren’t ready to hear it yet.
“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered as you walked towards him and took his free hand in your own. “I know you’re sorry and I know that this was all a misunderstanding that just got out of hand.”
“I am also sorry for springing my feelings on you. I wanted to tell you properly, ask you out properly, but I couldn’t explain myself without telling you. I ruined everything, it was woefully unromantic.”
“Yeah, that was a bit shit, I didn’t get my big grand gesture or anything.”
Lando’s eyes grew wide, a hopeful gleam in them. “I mean, would you – is that something you would still want? I don’t want to pressure you and I don’t want to assume that you still feel the same.”
“I do,” you said softly. “But, I think we should work on really moving past this before we officially jump into anything more.”
“I completely agree. However, I do have a reservation for two in about forty minutes to make up for ditching you, if you’d like to join me? Otherwise, I’ll have to bring Oscar. He won’t stop talking about the cheese garlic bread.”
“No, Lando, you don’t understand. He ordered three baskets. I went home and typed an apology email to Zak for ruining his diet.”
You both erupted in giggles, leaning into each other for support and out of habit. It felt so good to laugh, the weight and stress of the past two weeks rolling off in waves as Lando’s shoulder bumped yours and you heard the unmistakable laughter that you’d come to love so much.
“Maybe we should bring him anyway,” you pondered. “He’s been an exceptionally good friend to us both the past couple of weeks.”
“He can come next time, I’d like you to myself for the evening. If that’s ok?”
“More than ok, Lan. I’ve really missed you.”
He leaned in quickly, kissing your cheek gently and then nuzzling his nose against your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume he’d gifted you for your last birthday. “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he objected, his eyes glimmering slightly. Wet eyelashes fluttered against your neck as he stayed tucked into your side for a few more moments.
“We’re going to be late,” you whispered, with a sincere lack of urgency.
“Can we go back to my hotel room instead? Watch a movie and order in? Jus’ wanna hold you.”
Your heart constricted – as much as you wanted to tease him and say he owed you a night out and your favorite meal, you wanted nothing more than to spend the night in Lando’s arms.
“Of course, Lan. I think I need that too.”
On the way to Lando’s car, you passed Oscar who gave you both a knowing smile and a short wave. If you asked him if he had been waiting for you guys to leave, he would deny it. He would deny being so invested in your reconciliation that he waited close to an hour after he could leave for the day to make sure you were both ok. He would also deny that he tracked both of you and when it dawned on him that you were skipping your dinner, he sped to that little Italian place and stole your reservation for an order (or two) of cheese garlic bread.
He couldn’t resist sending a poorly taken picture to the group chat with the three of you and you burst out laughing when you opened it.
“Lan, Oscar somehow stole our dinner res,” you giggled, turning your phone to show Lando an unmistakable basket of bread and a follow-up text with several heart emojis.
Lando held his phone up to snap a quick selfie of you two cuddled up in bed, him leaning in for the second time that evening to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. Almost immediately after it delivered, your phones lit up with another text from Oscar.
HOT DATE FR THIS TIME?
You and Lando looked at each other and smiled, the mutual understanding of where you stood with your feelings evident.
not quite yet, but soon :)
2K notes · View notes
wullfric · 17 days
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I cannot believe that fucking Maria Umineko was the character that made me realize that I have religious trauma and question my Reddit atheist-like thoughts on religion
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rinskazuu · 2 years
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their voice lines about you, as their lover!
just my fav characters^^
INSPIRED BY @fatuismooches and their “harbingers’ voicelines about you.” they did so well, i loved it. y’all should go check it out!
xiao, itto, tighnari, ayato, ningguang, sara, yanfei, childe, diluc, zhongli, kaeya, beidou, cyno, & al haitham x gn!reader
implied that reader is an immortal/non mortal being in xiao & zhongli's.
cw: fluff. use of they/them pronouns. pet names: you’re mostly referred to as their “lover”, and “my darling” in 2 of them. some of them are slightly ooc, but i already put it in parentheses. i tried my best!
a/n: this is my very first post here, and im kinda nervous because even tho ive been writing for a long time, im still rlly insecure of my work. i removed a couple characters cus it got too long.. but if you guys like it, ill make a part two<3
XIAO
about [name]:
“hm? you want to know about [name]? well… there’s not much to say. what? i’m not blushing!”
chat: meals
“personally, the idea of human cuisine doesn’t delight me much. food isn’t necessary for an adepti but, i do enjoy [name]’s cooking quite a lot. they make the best almond tofu.”
chat: stress
xiao lets out a deep sigh, “[name] is too careless. and while they have such a big heart, they take too many dangerous commissions. on more than one occasion, i had to find them myself, just to see them injured. they claim they didn't call my name, because they don’t want to become a burden but, i… ah, never mind.”
chat: bonds
“hm… [name] and i have known each other for centuries. it really does make me happy seeing them and morax together. ah? he goes by zhongli now…?”
chat: flowers
“flowers? such a distraction... i pay no mind to them. but, i have heard from many mortals that, people in relationships do cherish such gifts. should i pick some for [name]?”
ITTO
about [name]:
“[name]?! you’ve met [name]? they’re so cool right? they’re my best bro, my everything, my one and only! tell me, has [name] said anything about me to you? they said they love me? oh! hm? my cheeks? THEY’RE NOT TURNING RED, it’s just the paint…”
chat: onikabuto
“yeah, i’m the best and number 1 at onikabuto fighting! i always win! well, except when i fight with [name]. somehow, they always win, i don’t know how! they never let me in on their secret too. one day, they will tell me.”
chat: jail
“[name] is great. they bail me out all the time. really, i’m so grateful to have them! they’re fit to be the leader of the arataki gang but, nobody can be the leader except me, arataki itto.”
chat: picnics
“[name] and i always go out for picnics, and then we have an onikabuto fight. even though they always win, i’m happy to be spending time with them. but, you gotta be careful, last time, i spilled some of the juice and [name] got a bit angry. huh? what do you mean i don’t seem like a picnic guy?”
chat: horns
“yeah these babies are painted! i usually paint them but sometimes, [name] helps me cover the spots i can’t. they’re so good at it too. is there anything they’re not good at?”
TIGHNARI
about [name]:
“you’ve met my wonderful lover, i see. yes, [name] often helps around gandharva ville. they do visit frequently, even though they reside in sumeru city.”
chat: sadness
tighnari sighs, “i do miss [name] a lot. i know they come often but, with them being busy working for the akademiya, it does get a little lonely without their presence during the night.”
chat: views
“hm, i’d say gandharva ville has some of the best views in all of sumeru! i take [name] to some of these places and, it lights a smile every time! a lot of beautiful flowers and mushrooms grow here. i do make sure to pick the non-poisonous ones though!”
chat: jealousy
“[name] has such a kind soul, all the forest rangers admire them. how could they not? i’ve never seen them do a bad thing in my entire life! though, it does get frustrating when they stare at them too long… i do admit, i get a little jealous.”
chat: petting
“ah? you want to pet my ears? well… i usually only allow [name] to pet me but, i’m sure they wouldn’t mind either. my tail? hah, now you’re going too far!”
AYATO
about [name]:
“hm? [name]? yes, that is the future head of the kamisato clan. ah, don’t tell them just yet but, i do plan on placing this lovely ring where it rightfully belongs.”
chat: family
“well, with only my sister left of our family, i do cherish her very much. [name] gets along with ayaka quite well. hm, speaking of which, they’re probably spending time together, at this hour.”
chat: work
“aside from being the head of the kamisato clan, my role as a commissioner does get in the way of a lot of things, including spending time with my lover. it’s such a shame. yet, they’re so patient with me. say, traveler, do you think i’m undeserving of [name]?”
chat: bubble tea
“haha, i am quite fond of bubble tea. i request for thoma to get it for me often. somehow, [name] always gets wind of it and steals a couple sips. they probably think they’re sneaky but, i know thoma is always telling them. they’re adorable so, i suppose i can’t be complaining.”
chat: safety
“during the vision hunt decree, [name] was really busy working and it worried me to death. i barely saw them and, unfortunately, i had to ask their close friend, kujou sara. both her and i share concerns over them so, she helped me even though, she was a little reluctant.”
NINGGUANG
about [name]:
“apologies, traveler, i’m a little busy right now. [name]? ah, my lover. well, i suppose i can sit down and have a chat about them for a bit.”
chat: danger
“although i’ve had a couple discussions with the adventure guild about [name]’s dangerous commissions, nothing seems to stop them. of course, they’re very passionate about helping others but, i’m worried they’ll put themselves in danger and i won’t be there to save them. traveler, maybe you can talk to them?”
chat: lunch
“hm yes, [name] and i go out to liuli pavilion a lot. i hear many people of liyue mutter about how jealous they are of them, how easy it is gain my attention and time. though, that does strike up my worry about their safety…”
chat: shopping
“although my job, as the protector of liyue, tends to get me busy, you might find it shocking that i do spend a lot of my time with my lover. we go shopping every week. not that i’d ever let you see but, my closet is filled with clothes that match theirs.”
weather: rain
“agh, the rain is such a bother. on the other hand, [name] is fond of the rain, they often venture during this weather. although i despise it, i suppose i can tolerate it for them. will you be a dear and fetch me an umbrella?"
SARA
about [name]:
"so, you want to know about [name]? i hope for your sake, that you don't have any malicious intentions, but other than that, i'll be happy to talk about them."
chat: loyalty
"yes, i am rather extremely loyal to the shogun. [name]? i assure you that this topic doesn't affect our relationship. despite the fact that i'm not shy to talk about it, i'd rather keep our affairs private."
chat: knitting (ooc? hc)
"huh? knitting... so, [name] told you about that. well, i suppose i can tell you, i do enjoy the simple hobby with them. it tends to release a lot of stress. although, i'm not sure why they spoke about it..."
weather: thunder
"the lightning and thunder is a sign of the shogun's will. i do often announce my loyalty to the shogun but, more times than none, i get aggravated by it. the only other thing that allows me to tolerate it is [name]. they love to huddle up to me and i find it adorable, it really takes my mind off the weather. don't tell them... or you might have to start sleeping with one eye open."
chat: onigiri
"as a warrior in inazuma, it's hard to carry heavy foods with me when i am not home, which is why i ask [name] to make me onigiri. they make it so well, it's packed with flavor and it's easy to carry. i always miss their specialty dishes though."
YANFEI
about [name]:
"have you met [name] yet? you have! hm, the expression on your face tells me the meeting with them was delightful. i'll tell you, being a legal adviser is not easy but seeing their bright face every time i come home, makes it a ton easier. they make me forget about all the civil cases."
chat: comfort
"sometimes, i think i'm good at hiding my facial expressions but the moment i come home and see [name], they know exactly how my day went, or more so what type of day i had. they're exceedingly perceptive and, having a lover like them makes my life a whole lot worthwhile."
chat: late night work
"like i said, being a legal adviser isn't necessarily easy, especially when you have a big case. i spend a lot of nights reading into boring cases, like that will i've recently encountered, however, [name] tends to bring me tea and sit in my home office to comfort me. it often distracts me but, i don't mind."
chat: cooking
"i'm sure i've mentioned how much i love tofu, right? well, [name] makes it ten times better. they spoil me too much, often rewarding me with tofu. i can't cook the way they can. archons, i wonder what i did to deserve such a lover like them."
chat: legal knowledge
"though it may come off as a shock, [name] knew quite a lot about laws before i met them. it wasn't until we got into a relationship, did i know about that. you bet i fell even more in love with them."
CHILDE
about [name]:
"good evening comrade! ah, what am i doing? picking flowers for my darling of course. i see, so you have met [name]. haha, they are truly wonderful aren't they? the more deserving they are of my time to be picking glaze lilies for them then, huh?"
weather: snow
"are you shivering, comrade? this weather is nothing compared to snezhnaya! you really remind of [name]. when i brought them to dragonspine, they were sniffling and whatnot. scared me half to death when a hue of blue took over their face, which is what convinced me to halt my vacation to snezhnaya with them."
chat: sparring
"everything in this world pales in comparison to the thrill of sparring. well, aside from spending time with my lover, of course. speaking of which; they're truly strong. [name] has beaten me every time we've sparred throughout our entire relationship, and they think i'm going easy on them but truth is, i really struggle against them..."
chat: spending
"[name] often scolds me for pampering them with expensive gifts but, i see it as a harmless gesture. of course i'm going to spoil my darling, how could i not?! ah, don't tell them about this one. do you think they'll like it? should i get another ring? i am getting sweaty thinking about their reaction. hm, thank you for the reassurance, comrade."
chat: family
"apart from teucer, [name] hasn't met any of my family yet. i'm fully convinced they'll love them though. they get along really well with teucer, he's even went on to call them an older sibling. it makes my heart swell. nothing brings me more joy than seeing my family and lover getting along."
DILUC
about [name]:
"[name]? of course i've met them, they are my lover after all. so you've heard...? they're a wonderful, kind, and passionate soul. what truly delayed our love was that they're a knight of favonius, a captain no less. but, i've grown to love that part of them as well."
chat: job (slightly ooc?)
"[name] looks wonderful under the dim light of angel's share, don't you think? even though we've been in a relationship for a long time, i will never get used to the way they're always so beautiful. ah, pardon me, i'm being unprofessional."
chat: brother
"tch, kaeya can be quite a bother, honestly. but, [name] always encourages me to reconcile with him. i'm not sure what there is to reconcile... though, i understand they do have only pure intentions."
weather: breeze
"usually, i pay no mind to the weather but, as of late, [name] has taken a keen interest in taking me out to cider lake during the night. it's often windy, sometimes a light breeze will cross us. like usual, they look wonderful under the night's light."
chat: art
"i'm not one to be into art but, it's one of [name]'s hobbies. they spend quite a lot of time indulging in this. everything they've made has been, how do i say this... a masterpiece."
ZHONGLI
about [name]:
"i'm not too understanding of human emotions but, one thing i've grown to recognize is my love for [name]. if you haven't met them, i'd be more than happy to introduce them to you. oh? so, you already have. enlighten me on what you think of them."
chat: gifts
"yet again, i've never quite understood the concept of this human tradition; gifting. [name] has informed me on it and i'd like to get them a present too. what do you think, traveler? something sentimental would suffice."
chat: familial bonds (based off hc, might be a little ooc)
"throughout the millennia i've lived, death has swept past me time and time again. aside from [name], that i met a couple hundred years ago, i've gotten a little attached to xiao, which in turn caused me to keep him closer than i intended. no matter, it fills me with joy to watch xiao open up to someone beside me. [name] tends to have that effect."
chat: tea
"tea is arguably one of the only human invented drinks i can tolerate. it's far better than wine. hm, speaking of which, i often send packages of tea i've acquired to [name]. they seem to love it so, i'd be more than delighted to grace a smile on their lovely face."
chat: painting
"quite like the art of tea, painting is... calming. [name] has been painting for centuries and yet, they have not grown bored of it. i find it astonishing, the way they're easily inspired by the changes of liyue. hm, i do enjoy watching them. sometimes, they would ask me to help them, and who am i to say no to my lover?"
KAEYA
about [name]:
"you're surprised i have a lover? haha, well a lot of people fall for my charm, and it's no different for [name]. though, i was also a little shocked, that somebody could have me wrapped around their finger like they do."
chat: drinking
"often times than not, [name] has dragged me home from angel's share, quite literally. yet, they haven't grown tired of me. i suppose i should stop, for their sake."
chat: intimacy
"[name] and i both work long hours, and even though we pass by each other a lot in the halls of the knights of favonius headquarters, i do miss their touch. recently, [name] has suggested late night dates. that's when we started going out to cider lake to go swimming. the water's cold but, it's nothing either of us can't handle."
chat: secrets
"you want to know my secrets? haha, if i told you then, they wouldn't be secrets anymore, would they? [name]...? well, it's best they don't know about my secrets... for their safety of course."
chat: spare time
"what i do in my free time...? well, i spend it with [name] of course! life would be dull without their presence. i'm often busy, and i drink a lot but, without them, i'd be nothing but a shell of a man. i have [name] to thank for making me a happy person."
BEIDOU
about [name]:
"what do you want to know about [name]? i'm the official [name] guide! they easily make my life like a boat on calm waters. though, i'm always adventuring on the sea, and they're associated with the qixing, we always make time for each other."
chat: souvenirs
"am i that easy to read? well, anyone with the right mind would bring back gifts for their lover, especially if their lover is [name]. they've told me about how much they enjoy the portrait i ordered to be painted for us, even though it's not a souvenir."
chat: sailing
"of course, [name] has been on my boat! it took a lot of convincing and arguing with ningguang to allow her subordinate to take a couple days off... i'd love to take them sailing again one day, but, i suppose i'll have to wait a while before that opportunity comes by again."
chat: occupation
"being a pirate did not make it any less intriguing for [name] to start a relationship with me. initially, it was platonic but, during my time on the sea, i began really feeling the absence of their voice and touch. that's when i really understood my feelings."
chat: drinking
"regardless of the fact that i do hold my alcohol well, i'm afraid [name] has seen me drunk on multiple occasions. they gave me an earful the mornings after. i understand their worries over me so, i drink less now."
CYNO
about [name]:
"you are not the first to be shocked that i have a lover. what? is it because i'm the general mahamatra? my career doesn't often get in the way of our rela- what? it's because of my appearance? what's wrong with it...? ah, i see. i can assure you, [name] is a person who's almost never afraid. they're mostly fascinated by things that seem thrilling, though i advise them to keep themself safe. not like they listen to me..."
chat: desert
"while [name] hadn't originated from the desert, they adapt quite well. occasionally, they have complained about the heat, not that i blame them but, they adjust rather quickly."
chat: rivalry
"hmph, that al-haitham... he doesn't get along with many people, probably because of that awful attitude of his but, unsurprisingly, he and [name] are close. i'm not afraid to lose them to him, no, but rather cautious of him. you can never trust a man like him."
chat: star watching (slightly ooc?)
"i was never a big fan of the stars but, ever since my first encounter with [name], they've always encouraged me to go star watching with them. the sky has hardly any affect on me and even though i agree to tag along, i always spend my time staring at them. they are truly mesmerizing..."
chat: concerns
"i'm confident in [name]'s ability to protect themself but, my title as general mahamatra does worry me regarding their safety. sometimes, i follow them during their adventures to make sure they're alright. what? they've noticed? i- never mind..."
AL-HAITHAM
about [name]:
"apologies traveler but, i am on a time crunch at the moment. [name]? did something happen to them- ah, never mind. your expression is too relaxed for anything bad to have happened to them while i was away. you want to talk about them...? well, ask away, i suppose."
chat: academic
"yes, [name] and i both studied at the akademiya. we were rivals at one point but, somewhere along the way, they had me hooked. looking at it from a much different perspective, i see now, that it was the best thing to have ever happened to me."
chat: knowledge
"nothing halts me from my thirst for knowledge. but, if anything comes close to it, it would be [name]. hm... no, i'd say they're the only one who could. nonetheless, they would never, seeing as they always praise and encourage me."
chat: rivalry
"general mahamatra? i wouldn't be surprised if he wanted [name]. first, after a position he was second best at, and now my lover? i'd like to see that fool try."
chat: reading
"comprehending every aspect of this world and it's secrets is a passion both [name] and i share. i'd have to admit, they're more into the pleasure of sparring over knowledge but, we do often spend our time reading together."
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bbtsficrecs · 6 months
Text
BTS FIC RECS PART 4.1
Part 4.1 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡
There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!
Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!
⊹ Navi ‣ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.1 | Part 5 |
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⊹ Merry Kinkmas - part 02 Enemies to lovers au au | s | @bebejungkook ‣ You find out who your secret Santa was but his gift was a little too personal.
⊹ In Your Arms Tonight College au | s, f | @angelguk ‣ “I’m Team I Would Like To Be Fucked Tonight.” You stated, blatantly ignoring the stink eye he shot your way. “But clearly that’s not on our agenda. Have you ever seen Vampires Suck?”
⊹ Baecation Richboy!jk au | s, f | @1kook ‣ “Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.
⊹ Act Of Falling Fuckboy!jk au | s, f , a | @kooktrash ‣ What was supposed to be a meaningless fling has turned into much more before you both realized you were falling. Now all you can do is hope that all the challenges you’ve faced are worth something.
⊹ Candles & Flames Royal AU | s, f, a | @taegularities ‣  He wasn’t supposed to be yours. His foolery wasn’t supposed to target you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
⊹ Distractions Practice couple au | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook agreed to let you do his makeup, but he can't stop getting distracted.
⊹ Naughty Boy Step siblings au | s | @scribblemetae ‣ Reader is older step sister that knows he has a crush on her/yandere tendencies & she teases him until one day he gives in. 
⊹ When It Feels Right (read part 1 first) Divorce au | a, f | @7deadlysinsfics ‣ Although Jungkook is struggling with the decision he made months ago, he still thinks it was the best thing he could’ve done for your safety. But he isn’t doing well, and his friends are worried about him and how he’s choosing to deal with his feelings. Meanwhile, you’re now living with your brother, his wife, and their ten-month-old daughter, who has helped bring some light into your life. Just as you decide to tell Jungkook the truth about your pregnancy, he appears at your brother’s house with a truth of his own.
⊹ When She Loved Me Terminally Ill au | s, f, a | @jungkookstatts ‣ How does one live when life is bound to end? 
⊹ your step brother fucking you in front of your parents Step siblings au | s | @aris-ink
⊹ Don't Blame Me (on-going) Single Dad au | s, f, a | @thvhoe ‣ Jungkook is known for his good looks and is often described by your friends as "daddy material." Funny enough, he actually was a daddy. The daddy of the baby girl you babysit every Saturday. Working as a nanny for the world's grumpiest single dad should have been easy, but you can't keep your eyes off him. He's handsome, a little arrogant, with broad shoulders and strong tattooed arms. And when he decides he can't keep his hands off of you. Who are you to resist?
⊹ Rolling Stone Idol au | s, f , a | @kooktrash ‣ He was a rolling stone with no ties to anyone or any place and that’s how he and his fans liked it. Now he’s found you and it’s never been this hard to convince someone that he’ll stay. The problem is neither of you know what it means to express yourselves without reverting to sex as a form to end discussion. It causes all hell to break loose when Jungkook realized if he wants you to stay for him [with him] then he needs to show it to you too. Can Jungkook and Y/n get past their own growing doubts on if what they feel is real and work out a way to be together—especially considering Y/n wants nothing to do with the limelight?
⊹ The Ability To Fantom - part 02 (on-going) Brother’s best friend au | a, f | @hanniwrites ‣ You are shocked when your friends reveal their theory: Jungkook, your brother’s annoying best friend, has a crush on you. A bad one.
⊹ Torn Apart Infidelity au | s, a | @bethschamberoftales ‣ That one time when you caught your boyfriend cheating on you.
⊹ My Love Is Here (series) Unrequited love to requited | s, f, a | @solemnreads ‣ You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened.
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⊹ I'll Stop Tomorrow Friends with benefits AU | s, a | @dreamyjoons ‣ You know it has to end.
⊹ Just A Taste Spring break AU | s, f | @cutechim ‣ “Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like.”
⊹ Flat Tire Established relationship AU | s, f | @ppersonna ‣ How do you pass the time when you’re stuck on the side of the road with your boyfriend, with a flat tire?
⊹ One Mistake (on-going) Idol!Tae & Cheating AU | a | @vamours ‣ it’s been three years since you and Taehyung had started dating. recently, you’ve started to notice changes in taehyung’s behavior towards you. with your four years anniversary only a few weeks away, you’ve come to discover the truth.
⊹ Akrasia Strangers to? | s | @nitaescence ‣ Basically two strangers fucking in a crowded bus.
⊹ Stepdad Taehyung Step!father au | s | @aris-ink ‣ "He was not touching himself right beside you. No, that was not possible"
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⊹ Rock Bottom Idol Jimin AU | s, f, a | @jkbabiey ‣ When, in a four-year marriage, you get to the point where you question its worth, you know that’s your rock bottom. How many I’m sorry’s will you handle? How many times are too many times?
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⊹ What's Poppin Established relationship AU, | f, s | @joonberriess ‣ Yoongi being the type to buy you a chain cause if he’s pimped out, his girl gotta be too.
⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.
⊹ Looks so refreshed Idol AU | s | @kimnjss ‣ Friends with benefits is hard, but when he’s an international superstar… It’s much harder. So while you love his friends to death, spending the night holed up in his hotel room just sounds a lot more fun than a dinner party.
⊹ Friends (3TAN) Brother's best friend AU | f, s, a | @kithtaehyung ‣ The week you get with Yoongi has a few surprises. and one of them presents itself in the form of a phone call.
⊹ So it goes Friends with benefits (ish) AU | f , s | @prodagustd ‣  You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it..
⊹ Marry me, Yoongi Established relationship AU | f, s | @spideyjimin ‣ When Yoongi decides to get married in vegas after all the fan’s comments on the vlives.  
⊹ Amour Propre Established relationship AU | a | @randombtsprincessa ‣ Crumbling Relationship with one Min Yoongi
⊹ Blind Spot Established relationship AU | f, a | @randombtsprincessa ‣ Yoongi tries to win you back.
⊹Your Universe Rejection AU | f, a, s | @muniimyg ‣ Regretting rejecting oc, Min Yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again
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