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tinietaehyun · 5 months

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Forsaken [I]

[Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader] [Series] [Chapter One]

Pairing(s): Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader [Ft. Knight!Hueningkai]

Genres: royal!au, fantasy au, supernatural, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, romance, angst.

Contains: Mentions of family pressure and dysfunction, illness & death.

Links: Forsaken Masterlist || Masterlist

Chapter summary: Finally, you’ve found a place you could call home, with loving parents. Oh how perfect indeed! Though, with your older brother despising you from the day you came home, it seems turmoil was bound to follow.

Luckily for you, your personal knight Huening Kai was always by your side, he’d never let anyone hurt you. You could trust him with your life, and maybe even your heart? You’d one day rule with him by your side, right?

Oh, how wrong you were.

The nation of Fortuna was indeed a flourishing place brimming with budding magic, population and a growing economy. It was a pleasant and tranquil kingdom. Unfortunately, this serenity took centuries of tyranny and war until finally the current royal family lineage appeared - kind rulers who uphold democracy and peace above all else.

The monarch: Kim Dae-Seong and his cherished wife: Kim Iseul. The wonderful royal couple, beloved by their subjects and known for their peaceful rule, gave birth to their adorable son: Kim Sehun. A few years pass after a traitorous event, and the loving couple realised their poor boy was mostly alone in the palace, by himself as they performed their royal duties, often retreating off to the sorcerer’s tower.

With the Queen’s advanced age and the risk of childbirth heightened, the two set foot into the nearest orphanage in the hopes of finding a fortunate child to take back home. The children of the orphanage peered up at the nobility wide-eyed; some scared, some in awe of their majesty.

Upon news of their arrival, you had practiced intensely in the determination of getting adopted. With your utmost resilience (as much as a six year old could have), you spent the days before today, practicing your curtsies, your waves, your speech, manners and most importantly your ‘thank yous’ and ‘pleases.’

With the king and queen seated peering at the children in awe, you waddled up to them holding two glasses of water with a half toothless smile. You wanted to be loved, to be cherished; to gain love that you never got. The other kids looked at you as though you were mad.

“Darling, look how endearing, she’s gotten us water,” the Queen utters taking the glass from your small hands. You beam widely, “You are very pretty, your majesty.” The Queen blushes pinching your cheeks in awe of your behaviour. The King chuckles, “How kind of you, dear.”

“I can curtsy too!” You try your best to curtsy; giving the couple your best and most flawless curtsies and showing them how well you could balance a book atop your head to show off your so-called perfect posture (the book fell twice). The other children watched your pitiful attempts to win their favour - some laughing, some cringing.

Fate must have heard your late night cries curled up in bed, because you find yourself that very evening standing in front of the grandiose palace doors hand in hand with your new parents.

“This here is your older brother, Sehun. Sehun, this is your new little sister, y/n.” You brim with excitement at the prospect of having a big brother. He was much taller than you, perhaps two, three years older. His sharp eyes pierce into yours coldly. “I told you already, I didn’t want one.”

You flinch, as do your parents. The King snaps, “Sehun, manners! She will accompany you, we see how alone you always are. It’s not good for your social development, you are far too reserved. We cannot always flock around you.” The boy glares into your soul and he stamps his foot, “I don’t want her! Take her back!”

An ache fills your heart; perhaps it was too much to ask for a place where you were wanted for once. Tears stream down your face and the Queen kneels down to wipe them away.

Though this didn’t hold you back, you tried numerous times to win the affections of your older brother. You wished to play with him, talk with him. Yet, he would not oblige your little heart. He would yell at you, argue, sometimes even throw things if you pestered him too much. Years after trying, you eventually gave up much to his contentment. Sehun and you kept contact, speaking when necessary; though this made your parents rather unhappy. Regardless, they had more important matters to attend to, such as Fortuna. You still felt happy, feeling loved by your parents and the people around you.

You continued to grow, honing your talents and skills, excelling in your studies and having a blossoming intellect with a social personality. Things that your brother seemed to resent you greatly for. You seem to surpass him in all aspects; it irked him terribly, worsening your relationship.

A memorable moment was when you turned eighteen. You’d be making more public appearances and taking on more duties, whilst your brother would get more involved in the royal army, training. He often loved to go to the sorcerer’s tower to spend time with his friend there; anywhere without you.

“For your safety dear, I will be assigning you a personal knight. He will accompany you wherever necessary and risk his life to protect you at all costs.” Your father seriously explains to you and you sigh - of course. Though, to your surprise when you are introduced to the son of the royal commander: Huening Kai; your heart flutters.

A handsome face, sharp jawline, slightly curled dark brown locks of hair that hung over his honey-toned forehead. His gaze pierces into yours as he bows in front of you, “I am Huening Kai, your highness. I will do my utmost best to protect you.” The twinkle in his eye and small smile makes you mirror a smile of your own back.

Huening Kai and you seem to click instantly. Behind that polite and well-mannered exterior was a mischievous boy who liked to tease you, make pitiful puns and seemed to have a deep love for reading. You would often talk for hours on end within the palace library - often a secret place of solace for the both of you away from the bustle of the rest of the palace.

“Hey, wasn’t this the book you were looking for, princess?” He utters with a lopsided smirk. Your eyes widen spotting the cover and rush over reaching for it until he holds it above him. “Want it?” Kai hums playfully. You glare, “You are abnormally tall, you know that?” Kai grins, “Why, thank you, your highness.” Scoffing, you respond, “Give me the book, Kai!”

“Say, please. Where are your manners, princess?” He feigns shock and you groan, “Please, give me the book, Kai.” He chuckles, lowering the book and you snatch it excitedly. “You and your romance novels, when are you going to find a real suitor, hm?” He inquires leaning forward close to your face. For the first time, your heartbeat hastens and you feel a sense of breathlessness. What was going on? Why was he making you feel like this?

Time continues to pass, you’d have picnics with your beloved knight, he’d oblige your silly requests of singing (he had a lovely voice) and partaking in your luxurious shopping sprees. Kai would be there by your side, teasing and bickering. His charming smile and bright gaze enlightened you, made you feel happy amongst your usual breaks between your studies. Closer and closer you become, the more your heart yearns for more. The shy glances, bashful smiles you both exchange. How, he would maintain eye contact with you as you watched him train (how, improper indeed!) The way he grasps your hand tightly when traversing a tough spot, oh, how he sits beside your bed comforting you through a nightmare or talking till midnight to get you to fall asleep.

You could rely on him to protect you, make you laugh, and confide your deepest secrets to. He became your pillar of support especially during times of adversity.

“You are not of royal blood.”

“You were lucky, his majesty found potential like you off the street.”

“You do not deserve to be trained to rule, like Sehun does. It is clear already, who should.”

Comments you often heard from some members of the royal court that left you hurt. Days where Huening Kai would wipe away your tears off your face with his calloused thumbs and pull you in for a secret hug - comforting you as best he could. What would you do without him? Your yearning for him grows as time passes.

Now in your early twenties, you are a poised and wise young woman. You peer over at Kai standing opposite you by the entrance of the dining hall. How beautiful he’s grown into a young man; sharp and sculpted features. He throws a playful wink at you making your heart bounce in your chest. A mischievous smirk graces his lips.

“Tch,” Sehun scoffs beside you, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table. You stiffen; he was just as cold (if not more) than ever. Your father and mother chuckle discussing various matters as dinner is being served. Sehun had become unbelievably distant nowadays, barely being within the palace but rather spending his time with the soldiers or in the sorcerer’s quarters with the apprentices and his friend - what was his name again? Yeonjun, you think?

The discussion swerves into the topic of the next heir making the air heavy. They are growing older and your father has recently been diagnosed with a chronic cough, so this topic was inevitable. “We have been discussing this with the royal court and have held several votes and talks, and we believe that y/n is most suitable to become crown princess. The heir of the throne. With you, Sehun, to support her.”

Sehun slams his cutlery into the table, startling everyone, “How appalling,” he seethes. His jaw clenches, eyes darkening. The Queen murmurs sharply, “May I add, y/n received the most votes of support from the advisors. She’s most suited. Sehun; don’t be hurt, we are not diminishing your qualit-“ She’s interrupted with his dark gaze as he stands up abruptly leaving the table. The air is tense and your hands begin to tremble. You were most fit to rule?

“See, this is what I mean. Sehun has much to improve in terms of character. His temperament is the cause for concern.” Your father sighs in frustration before coughing once more. Your mother takes your hand comfortingly and smiles, “Don’t worry dear, we have thought about this a lot. I’m sure Sehun will get over it. He’s a good boy at heart. It’s inevitable you two will have to work together, to rule.” You frown.

———-••••———

You seem to have so little time to truly relax your body and mind as your studies pick up, gearing towards diplomacy and politics. You feel as though a heavy boulder were on your back.

Furthermore, your knight was getting harder to reach. Kai’s father had finally retired from the army therefore, needing Kai to step up and take over his role of Royal Commander.

“Kai? Have you finished your training?” You ask with a frown. He hums, “Sorry, princess. I have a meeting to attend with the generals. Are you free this evening? Is your new guard okay?” You wanted so badly to say no, but you find yourself murmuring, “I suppose. He is alright. I prefer you.”

Kai takes your hand and gives you his signature smirk, “Don’t miss me too much, princess. I miss how pretty you look when you smile.” You instinctively smile bashfully and he chuckles, “There we go. We’ll find time, don’t worry.” You nod as your heart aches. You were coming to the realisation you may (or already have) developed feelings for your beloved knight. Did he like you back at all?

To worsen things, your father’s health declines rapidly. His coughing now becomes bloody vomiting. His state was quickly deteriorating and it had all healers and even sorcerers confused. What could have caused this? He was perfectly fine before?

You frown holding your father’s hand, “Father…” your voice cracks. Kai stands by the entrance with a broken expression whilst Sehun stands stiffly beside you frowning. Your father weakly smiles; his face pale, “Dear, don’t worry. You’d have to face this one day.”

He smiles warmly, “My precious, it breaks my heart to see you like this. I still remember when I first brought you here.” A year rolls down your face. He peers up at Kai, “My dear boy, please protect her with your life, even after I am gone. Protect both my children, and keep them safe. You hear me?” You begin sniffling. You knew there was no treatment for this.

Kai nods solemnly, “Of course, your majesty.” The King’s gaze flickers between you and Sehun frowning, “How I wish you children would get along, at least once. To see you tenderly with each other.” Sehun and you stiffen; guilt on both of your faces.

After leaving your father’s room, you hear, “Y/n.” The cold voice; one which you feared as a child. You turn around seeing Sehun with a mixed expression. He murmurs, “Seeing as father is direly ill and circumstances changing rapidly. I believe as father said, it would be better to be on good terms with another.” Bitterly, you scoff, “After all these years? Now when, father is on the cusp of death? You think about it?” He flinches at your icy tone.

“I’ve had time to think these last few weeks. Mother has talked to me and I’ve talked to father many times. It’s been difficult for the two of us. I don’t want to burden mother with our tumultuous relationship.” He utters frowning. His eyes seem genuine. You sigh, “I don’t know.”

Sehun steps forward, “I..I wish to apologise. For my behaviour. I’m aware a mere apology cannot fix anything, but I wish to start there.” Stunned, is what you could describe your emotions. You spot his glazed eyes and your heart aches. “I am tired of resenting you for my own inadequacies. It’s time I face up to them,” he firmly says.

You hesitantly smile, “Huh, I never thought this would occur.” He murmurs, “Neither did I, but I see this was a needed wake up call.” You sigh, “Indeed. It’ll take time for me to warm up. But…Sehun, I’m glad..” His eyes glisten, “I’m sorry. I really will try to be the big brother you never had.” Your eyes water and you find yourself walking toward him as he gives you a hug; a much needed one.

Unfortunately, the dreaded day arrives. The bells clang out across the kingdom and your mother and you adorn glistening tears as you weep beside your lifeless father’s body in his hearse. How you wish, you could hear him heartily guffaw once more. For the first time, you weep in your brother’s arms.

Huening Kai peers on distraught. You’ve noted how distant he’s become over the last few weeks. As your mother weeps adorning black in her room, you notice her viciously coughing. A horrifying dread fills you as though a taunting serpent coils up your body, squeezing tighter and tighter.

You knew.

When you find yourself beside your mother’s bedside a month later, she weakly peers at you, it feels as though deja vu. “Darling, y-you will need to prepare yourself to rule.” She squeezes your hand weakly, “I know how scary this must be.” You weep, “Please don’t leave me.” Sehun looks lifeless putting a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. Iseul hums softly, “Perhaps it was fate for me, to follow Dan-Seong,” she chuckles, “He never did like going places without me.” Your heart twists painfully. Oh, how you would miss them terribly. Once again, your mother requests Sehun to never leave your side.

He murmurs, “Of course, I would never mother. Don’t worry.” Your mother’s eyes glimmer; you two recently getting along made her very happy indeed.

With your mother in her last weeks of life, the royal court was burning with questions and the need for a stable ruler. You were to soon sign a royal decree in which you would take over your mother’s duties, and become a temporary figurehead until the coronation was sorted (when you mother would eventually pass).

————•••————

Huening Kai spends more time with you, as you cry countless times in his arms; his own eyes red with grief and sorrow. He had never looked so tired and unhappy. You murmur, “You won’t leave me, right?” Kai cups the back of your head gently and smile, “Rest easy, your highness. Don’t worry your precious head about such things. I’ll be right here.” You nod, closing your eyes as you rest your head against his chest.

The day of the decree arrives as you enter the grand meeting hall where your royal court await obnoxiously. Half dislike you whereas half don’t; you weren’t sure how you were going to manage them all. As the hall bursts into discussion at your entry, you tremble.

Huening Kai subtly gives your hand a sequence behind your back and you smile at him. You await the decree to be brought to sign; but to no avail. “Where is the decree?” You ask worried. “Your highness, the advisor will be bringing it shortly accompanied by your brother,” a pale, blonde haired young man answers with a smirk - oh, right, this was Yeonjun. You nod slowly as anxiety envelopes you. Something didn’t feel right.

The large wooden doors burst open revealing a line of soldiers marching in clutching their spears starting the court. “What’s happening? What’s this insolence?” You yell panicking. Your eyes widen peering at the nobly dressed figure who arrogantly strides in holding the decree scroll in one hand.

“My, are you looking for this?” Sehun hums condescendingly. Your body shakes and you stammer, “Sehun, is this your doing?” The guards block all exits giving you a menacing stare. Sehun walks forward with a mocking smile, “And if it is, what do you propose you’ll do, dear sister?”

Snarling, you say, “How dare you? How dare you make a fool of the royal family like this in front of the court?” Sehun laughs crudely, “Family? Oh you still consider yourself as family?” Your shoulders slouch. “What?”

His tone is icy, “Surely you don’t forget what I said to you when you first came? You’re not noble blood. I never wanted you here. It just made for more competition for the throne. To think my parents would give the throne to you! A peasant from the bottom barrel!” You hear a few snickers from the court.

You scream tearfully, “You traitor- I thought-“ He hums brushing you off, “I knew you’d get suspicious of me quickly. I had to put on this whole disgusting act of liking you? Do you know how tiring that was?” Your heart shatters. He peers at the decree, “Anyway, I will be the one signing this decree, not you.”

Your eyes widen putting the pieces together, “You were responsible for father’s death- and now mother!” You sob. Sehun bitterly laughs, “Oh well done, it’s remarkable what types of slow poison you can get in the markets these days. Mother will die quite soon.” You feel your knees buckle. The court gasps. Sehun sneers, “Any insolence from the court and you’ll have your arms chopped off by my soldiers.” You realise how long he’s been hatching this plan for- getting the soldiers on his side.

You bellow, lunging forward at Sehun but you’re stopped by a hand gripping your forearm. You peer over seeing Kai. You snarl, “What are you doing? Let me go.” A pained expression coats his features. He pulls you back and you’re eyes widen in horror. “K-Kai?”

He blankly murmurs, “Don’t try to hurt his highness. It won’t end well.” Betrayed. Your knees buckle. Sehun hums with a sly smirk, “He takes my orders, y/n. How foolish you are.” You scream in agony as Kai pulls you back up. “Keep her in the dungeons until I decide what to do,” Sehun cruelly utters. Other guards surround you as Kai hoists you up as you fight and flail. “I’m sorry,” he utters pained.

Dirty, lying traitor.

Lifelessly, you sit in the dungeon; tear-stained, and empty. Kai visits you, giving you food to which you ignore all his attempts at talking. The third night into your imprisonment, you notice Kai appear at midnight past your cell. He gazes at you pained before tossing a key through the bars. He murmurs, “The tunnels. I’ve unlatched the door.” Your eyes widen in confusion.

You stammer, “W-What? Why?” He murmurs, “I’d rather not see you die in front of my eyes, your highness.” Your eyes water. Kai pleads looking away, “Just…escape. Please. Away from here. Sehun is unstable.” You scoff, “Yet, you follow his orders.” Kai ignores your remark, “Just be careful. Don’t miss your chance. The switch over of guards takes place in ten minutes. You have a five minute gap.” Kai walks off.

You couldn’t lose here. Using his intel, you escape your cell and follow the signs to the ancient tunnels. Indeed, he had unlocked the latch. The tunnels; full of cobwebs, wind and twist with no light. You feel your way through precariously not knowing where you were truly heading. Any chance of escape, you’d take!

Finally, you spot a hatch and climb up, shoving it open. Climbing up, you’re met with much needed fresh air. You peer down at your kingdom which seemed minuscule from here. How long were you walking for?

You twist around and you’re mortified - The Woods of Mor. A place where they used to send the exiled criminals before it was outlawed and the present day dungeons were built. You peer back at your kingdom, you knew you couldn’t go back.

You spot a faint tuft of smoke coming from the trees of the woods; a from a chimney perhaps? It’s been a long time since anyone has been in there. Yet you knew, beyond this forest was your ally nation: Luna. If you could just escape through there; it was the quickest route.

Thus, you risk it and set foot into the woods, walking and walking for what you think are hours on end. Exhaustion hangs on your limbs as hunger and thirst irk you. You were going to die. How idiotic were you to believe you could survive walking through this vast expanse of dangerous woods?

The path opens up and suddenly you rush over to a familiar set of shrubs. Blueberries, raspberries and wild strawberries! Oh heavens! You recognised these plants with how many the palace gardens had!

Hungrily, you start picking them off stuffing them into your mouth without a care in the world. They tasted amazing! There were so many too! How lucky were you to stumble upon-

“Huh, look what I found. A pest on my beloved berry bushes,” a voice slices lowly. You stiffen peering over and your eyes widen. A long black cloak; in which a young man with pale blonde locks wears, carrying a basket. He was ethereal with his sharp dark eyes and chiselled features.

His eyes narrow with a snarky smile, “Oh, I didn’t take nobles to be petty thieves and trespassers?” The man summons his wand and hums, “What should I do? Turn you to stone, or into a toad? What’s your preference?” You quiver, “Perhaps, neither?” The man smirks at your answer.

A sorcerer? Oh…this would not bode well for you.

Taglist: [open] @royallyjjk @wolfytae-exe @rencarnationofangel @sirenla @matcha-binz @beomies-world @michinri @parkweylyn @wikireads @hanniehaeeeeeee1004 @elara828 @wonioml

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splatoongamefiles · 5 months

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oh i left this out but could ya also grab the punk nights and pilot goggles if u havent yet? thanks :)))) - person who just req'd varsity jacket

hi person again!

here's all the files for the pilot goggles, varsity jacket, and the punk nights.

https://file.garden/ZRWmCDccGFWyKuzh/anonoutfit.zip

This will probably be the last ask i will answer about just regular clothing, i'm trying to find out how to export ALL of them at once. but if you have a cool clothing with a really neat design, i'll totally go and find it.

here's the punk knights texture though

the pilot goggle textures were unrecognizable and probably really unhelpful, using the files you can open it in blender. file>import>dae (materials will be messed up, but textures will be wrapped properly)

#ask #Anonymous #splatoon #game rip #splatoon 3 #request #textures #file upload #clothing

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polutrope · 4 months

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Beleria New Year's Eve Special!

For the modern AU holiday prompts. Seven prompts combined into one big New Year's bash.

Relationships: Daeron/Maglor, Fingon/Maedhros, Aegnor/Andreth, Edhellos/Angrod, Celeborn/Galadriel, Feanor & Fingolfin Characters: All of the above and Nerdanel, Finarfin, Earwen, Anaire, Rumil, Orodreth. Rating: T Warnings: Swearing, sexual content, recreational drinking and drunkenness Words: ~5.6k

On AO3. Beleria Cast of Characters

Maglor propped his elbows on his knees and leaned over the board. If he moved the bishop to take Daeron’s pawn, he’d expose his rook in three moves; but no, that would expose his other bishop first.

“Oh my god just make a move already,” Daeron complained. He threw himself dramatically over the arm of his chair.

“Shh,” said Maglor. “I’m thinking.”

“You think too long. Just make a move.”

“Fine.” Maglor took the pawn. Two seconds later, Daeron took his bishop with a knight.

“Goddammit!” said Maglor. “I’m so bad at this.”

“You’re not going to win,” Daeron said without mockery.

“Maybe not, but I’m still seeing it through to the bitter end.”

Daeron sighed loudly. “I think one of your New Year’s resolutions should be knowing when to quit.”

“Yeah? Are we writing each other’s resolutions now? Fine.” Maglor withdrew his attention from the game and considered. “I think you should resolve to have more fun.”

“What? I have plenty of fun. We’re playing a game right now. Games are fun, aren’t they?”

“We’re playing chess, on New Year’s Eve when everyone is out getting drunk and kissing people they shouldn’t.”

“Is that what you want to be doing? Kissing people you shouldn’t?” Daeron pouted.

“No.” Maglor grinned. “Just you, Dae-bae.”

Daeron rolled his eyes at this, and just as Maglor was considering leaning over the coffee table to grab him and demonstrate the veracity of his statement, his phone buzzed against the tabletop.

Maedhros SOS. Dad’s at the party. Sunday, Dec 31 • 8:05 p.m.

“Oh shit,” Maglor said aloud. He began typing a reply.

“What is it?” Daeron asked.

“It’s my brother.” Maglor glanced up from his phone. “Maedhros,” he clarified. “Remember I told you he and Fingon were going to that big New Year’s party hosted by Hithlum Properties at the Lómin Hotel?”

“Yes…”

“Well apparently my dad went.”

“Oh,” said Daeron.

Though Maglor tried his best to guard his boyfriend from the family feud disguised as a property development war between his father — the adopted, but elder, child — and grandpa Finwë’s biological firstborn, Daeron was, after a year of living together and six months in a relationship, well-aware of the significance and danger of Fëanor and Fingolfin being in the same room.

“Why??” Daeron asked.

“I have no idea, just asking my brother now.”

Maedhros Rúmil talked him it. Something about networking and a promising investor for the app. I dont know. But he’s here with mom talked him into it*

Maglor chuckled, recognising in the missing punctuation and typos the signs that Maedhros was approaching a state of inebriation.

Maglor Shit. how’s it going?

Maedhros they haven’t spoke to each other yet. spoken* we’re gonna get out here before it gets bad out of*

Maglor Gonna bail on the big party hey? Where?

Maedhros Finarfin and Eärwen;s place Angrod and co are having a party there

Maglor You’re gonna go to a house party with a bunch of 20 year olds?

Maedhros Shut up. Maybe I’ll forget about my rapid aceleration towards death Acceleration*

Maglor More likely you’ll be made acutely aware of it

Maedhros Come pick us up.

Maglor huffed and shook his head.

“What’s going on?” Daeron asked.

“One sec,” said Maglor.

Unappeased, Daeron stood and came round to plop himself at Maglor’s right and read over his shoulder.

“No, we are absolutely not picking them up,” he said.

Maglor No way. Take a cab. Daeron and I are having a quiet New Year’s in.

Maedhros Come on its like a 50km drive

“I’m not going,” Daeron said decisively.

Maglor pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before typing his reply.

Maglor And how do you intend for us to get home? If I’m gonna go to a house party with a bunch of estranged cousins ten plus years younger than me then no way am I not drinking.

Maedhros Angrod says everyone’s staying over. Finarfin and Eärwen are here at the hotel, they won’t be there til tomorrow. House is ours.

Maglor lowered the phone and folded one leg onto the couch, pivoting his body to face Daeron, who was frowning deeply.

“Okay,” said Maglor, setting both hands on Daeron’s thighs and affecting his most alluring puppy-dog eyes. “Before you say no — again — hear me out.”

When he spotted Rúmil at the coat check, Fëanor waved off a passing caterer and strode confidently towards his friend.

“There you are,” he said, forcing his way into the pleasantries Rúmil was presently exchanging with some young man in an obviously-rented suit.

“Ah, Fëanáro!” Rúmil exclaimed, his eyes alight beneath the droop of his wrinkled lids. He had always looked old, even back when they had met in university, but he wore his age well, appearing more wizened than weary. “You came! I suppose I owe thanks to your lovely wife?”

“You two always did enjoy uniting against me,” Fëanor said jovially, then drew his mouth back into a line. “So where is this investor?”

“Oh, he’s here.” Rúmil winked as he handed his coat to the clerk. Then he took Fëanor’s arm just above the elbow and guided him towards the centre of the hall.

Rúmil paused along the way, shaking hands with every other cluster of people they passed. He was a good business partner, Fëanor admitted. Frankly he was the only person alive Fëanor could still tolerate collaborating with, besides Nerdanel. But Rúmil, whom Fëanor had met as an undergraduate during his brief flirtation with the humanities, was an Ideas Man. Not particularly driven towards results and the perfection of those ideas (which was why he’d retired last year without ever making full professor). Results, then, were Fëanor’s role in the development of the app — a highly intelligent business communications translation tool — that they had been working on for the past year. For his efforts, it was agreed that seventy percent of all profits would go to Fëanor. Income he greatly needed if Ambar Metta was to claw out of its legal debts.

Catching sight of his son across the room, Fëanor frowned. Maedhros had been one of those people he’d tolerated collaborating with, when he’d been the company’s chief legal officer. Then the young man presently clasping Maedhros’ shoulder and doubling over with uninhibited laughter had stuffed his head full of values. The only value a corporation needed to uphold, in Fëanor’s opinion, was the cash value of its bottom line.

Well. He supposed he was glad Maedhros had not altogether turned against him: he was doing good work building community relationships for the company now. Fëanor just hoped it wouldn’t come at too high a cost.

And, as baffling as it was to Fëanor that a spawn of Fingolfin Noldoran could make a pleasant conversation partner, never mind a satisfactory domestic partner (or whatever new-fangled thing they called one another) Fingon still seemed to make Maedhros happy after all these years. And Maedhros’ happiness was, Fëanor admitted, also a valuable thing. He’d come to accept the change.

Turning his gaze from his son and smiling to himself, Fëanor sipped from his champagne flute. As he lowered it, his eyes landed on someone his heart would never, so long as he lived, be moved to accept.

The evening’s gracious host smugly grinning down at him.

“Fingolfin,” Fëanor said coldly.

Before Fëanor could react, Fingolfin had seized his hand and was giving it a firm shake. Fëanor drew back as if he had been burned.

Fingolfin’s expression betrayed no acknowledgement of the slight. “Brother,” he said. (The audacity!) “I am so glad you came!”

“Please do not call me that,” Fëanor whispered through clenched teeth. “I’ve never had a brother.”

He felt Rúmil’s long fingers curl around his shoulder and was aware at the same time of Nerdanel’s auburn head making its way through the crowd towards them. She flanked his other side.

“So, I suppose Rúmil told you?” Fingolfin said.

Told him what? Fëanor wondered, beetling his brows. But Fingolfin did not wait for answer.

“As a lifelong admirer of your business acumen, I am needless to say thrilled that we will finally be working together. Mr. Finvesen.” Fingolfin winked and an image of his champagne breaking over those chiselled cheekbones flashed across Fëanor’s mind.

“What do you mean?” asked Fëanor. “Is this some kind of joke? I have no intention of working with Hithlum Properties.”

Fingolfin laughed but looked nervous. “No! On the app! Rúmil,” he finally released Fëanor’s eyes to look at the other man, “don’t tell me you failed to mention my name.”

Fëanor had lurched to the obvious and odious conclusion before Fingolfin had finished speaking. “You are the investor?” He jerked out of Rúmil’s grasp and cut a glance at Nerdanel. “And you both knew this?” Nerdanel opened her mouth to speak but Fëanor cut her short (that would cost him dearly but his blood boiled too hot to care). “No,” he said, raising a hand to silence them all. “I will not abide this indignity. I do not need your charity, Noldoran.”

“Charity!” Fingolfin chuckled, a little too shrilly. “Is it charity to invest in a brilliant concept?”

“I don’t need your flattery, either,” Fëanor snarled. “What is your game here, Fingolfin? You think Finwë’s restless ghost is waiting for our reconciliation? Hm? Leave it be already. He’s a corpse in the ground on the other side of the world.” Fingolfin’s lips and the skin around his eyes twitched, betraying his distress. Good: That had been Fëanor’s intent.

“Unhand me!” he said to Rúmil and Nerdanel, though neither of them had a hand on him. “I will not do business with this man.” He jabbed a finger in Fingolfin’s direction. “I don’t care how much money he lays out in front of us like a greasy block of cheese, as though we were some mangy rats he wants to entrap in his network of ‘friends’. I am not his friend and I never will be.”

With that, Fëanor spun on his heels and stormed out of the hall and did not stop until he was standing outside the hotel in the dark drizzly night without a coat.

In the passenger seat of Maglor’s hatchback, Daeron impatiently bonked the headrest with the back of his skull and slumped lower in the chair.

“Where are they?” he complained.

He needed to get to a place with wine as soon as possible, and that place was still an hour’s drive away. An hour that he would spend tying himself in knots speculating on every possible social misstep he could make that evening among dozens of people he’d never met before. He could not believe he was doing this. But ultimately it had been impossible to refuse a whole week without having to prepare a single meal — plus certain… other favours he had negotiated.

Maglor frowned and pressed his palms into the steering wheel. “I don’t know. Maybe I should go in and find them…”

“Yes,” Daeron agreed. “Do that.”

“But if anyone sees me—”

“Put your hood up,” Daeron said, and did for Maglor as he’d suggested. Then he pulled sunglasses from the ceiling compartment. “And wear these.”

“Ow—” said Maglor, as an arm of the sunglasses nearly struck his eye. “I’m not wearing these,” he said, pushing Daeron’s hand away. “Fine, I’ll go in. But I’m warning you — it could be a while if anyone spots me.”

“Fine. I’ll be taking a nap,” said Daeron. He reclined his seat and put the sunglasses on his own face. Maglor sighed, then the door thumped shut behind him.

No more than two minutes could have passed when his heart nearly launched itself from his chest at the sound of fingers tapping at the window.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and sat bolt upright. The shadow of a face obscured most of the driver’s side window. Daeron yanked the sunglasses off.

“Yes?” he said, affecting as much calm as he could. “Can I help you?”

The stranger mouthed some unintelligible words and pointed at the seat. Then the door swung open.

Daeron recoiled. “Get out!” he screamed.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the stranger said in a polished, level voice. “I’m Fëanor.” A long hand plunged out of the dark and into Daeron’s personal space. “And you must be Daeron. Pleased to finally meet you.”

“Uh, hi,” said Daeron, and not knowing what else to do accepted Fëanor’s handshake.

Fëanor gave an approving grunt. “A solid handshake, that’s a good sign.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind,” Fëanor laughed. “I apologise for barging in on you like this. I assumed it was my son when I saw his car and had to find out what he was doing out here— he came with you I assume? Where is he?” Daeron opened his mouth to answer but Fëanor forged ahead. “But when I saw you there, well easy enough to put together who you were, and I have been dying to meet you. I was beginning to wonder if Cáno had made you up to get us all to stop trying to set him up with someone. We just wanted him to stop moping around! Which is why I knew he hadn’t made you up, because he stopped moping. As much.”

Fëanor chuckled. Daeron did not. He decided not to remind Fëanor that they had, in fact, met already — the day Daeron signed the lease to rent the room in Maglor’s place. But then he was just a tenant, not his son’s boyfriend.

“Yep,” Daeron said, “believe it not, I’m really dating your mopey son.”

Fëanor let loose a peal of laughter.

“A solid handshake and a dry wit! I like you already, Daeron. Isn’t it funny, though, that my two eldest sons are dating the sons of the two men in Beleria who cause me the most grief? By the way,” Fëanor pivoted towards him, “why didn’t your father come to this soirée of Fingolfin’s?” Fëanor smiled smugly as if this pleased him. “I suppose the Mayor of Beleria is in high demand on a night like this, though. Did Elu have somewhere better to be?”

“Uh, no, actually,” said Daeron. “He’s at home.”

“I see,” Fëanor said, and smoothed his tie. “Not giving any special speeches for the people or anything?”

“Nope,” said Daeron.

“Interesting. Elu is usually into that sort of thing, isn’t he? Pandering to the masses?”

Daeron scowled.

Fëanor laughed again. “Good, good. I like people who wear their feelings plainly. You’re a very transparent person, I can see why Cáno likes you.”

“Thanks?” Daeron said, half-sincere. No one had ever remarked on this trait of his positively before.

“He’s rather transparent, too, you know. That could be a problem between you.” He puckered his lips thoughtfully and looked Daeron up and down. “Just make sure you remain your own people. Separate entities, don’t bleed into each other. That’s what happened with his ex-husband. He was a musician, too, as I am sure Cáno has told you.” Maglor had told Daeron, at more length than Daeron thought necessary. He was not keen on hearing about it again from his father. “They were in the same band — don’t start a band with him!”

“Oh, there’s no risk of that,” said Daeron. “I only do solo work.”

“Good! I am an individual competitor myself. Everyone tells you you have to be a ‘team player’ to do well in life.” Fëanor wagged a finger. “Wrong. You have to be a strong leader. You have to know your ideals and stick to them. Actually, before I came out here for a breath of fresh air, I was put in a very unpleasant situation by a fellow I am ‘collaborating’ on something with—”

“Dad??” The driver’s door swung open to reveal Maglor, mouth gaping in an expression of horror and concern. “What are you doing in my car?”

“Oh, hello, Cáno,” Fëanor said cheerfully. “I was just getting to know your boyfriend you’ve refused to introduce me to.”

Maglor’s protest was cut off by Fingon, then Maedhros, piling into the backseat, laughing.

“Hello!” said Fëanor, craning his neck to look at them. “Are you two leaving already?”

Daeron could not see, but he could feel the despair settle into the sudden silence behind him.

“Don’t look so horrified, Nelyo,” Fëanor said. “I wish I could leave this damn party! All right, all right, I know when I’m not wanted!” He swung one leg out of the car and turned his body back to shake Daeron’s hand. “Very nice to meet you, Daeron. We’ll have to continue this conversation again soon. Good night! Good night, Cáno,” he said as he stood and gave Maglor, still stunned, a quick embrace. “Good night Nelyo, Fingon, happy New Year!”

He trotted back into the hotel, arms swinging at his sides but visibly shivering.

“I’m so sorry,” Maglor said. He was pale with panic. “Are you okay? What did he say to you?”

“It’s fine,” said Daeron, and chuckled. “He seems like an interesting guy. I think we’ll get along well, actually.”

Maglor’s eyes widened while his mouth contracted into a tight ball. He looked deeply perturbed by this idea.

“Come on!” Fingon shouted from the backseat. “Let’s go!”

“They really need to build a bridge here,” said Orodreth. He huffed impatiently. The tunnel was backed up for kilometres, bumper-to-bumper traffic crawling down the Sirion Expressway. He just wanted to be home. Well, his parents’ home, which was the only permanent home he had.

The drive from the base at Minas Tirith had been a nightmare. Having already missed Yule after his deployment was extended by a week, he and Lorneth had then been stuck at the base for two days due to a blizzard. When they finally got out, there’d been a road closure on the Sirion that had them zig-zagging through the countryside for three hours longer than it should have taken them. And, of course, entering Beleria and nine p.m. on New Year’s eve meant going through three DUI checkpoints. (“No, officer, we don’t drink. Just going home, sir. Asleep before midnight if we can manage it, sir.”)

No, Orodreth was not ‘fun’, and that was how he liked it.

Thirty minutes later, they rounded the bend toward the cul-de-sac where Finarfin and Eärwen had the sprawling beach home he and his siblings had grown up in.

“Someone must be having a party,” Lorneth said. “Look at all these cars parked.”

Orodreth grunted. “Hopefully not one of the neighbours.”

But as they drew nearer to the house, a feeling of dread took root in his stomach.

Lorneth voiced his fear. “No, not a neighbour. Looks like it’s at… your place.”

Indeed, rolling slowly past the packed driveway, the house pumped so loudly with music he could feel it through the car’s metal casing.

“Fucking hell,” he said.

Aegnor slumped further into the Adirondack chair on the deck and tugged his wool coat across his chest. It was a beautifully clear night. Thanks to the shot of whisky Fingon had insisted they take to inaugurate the auspicious arrival of a “former party king, out of retirement for one night only!”, the stars glittering over the dark ocean swam in and out of focus. It reminded Aegnor of a painting. Straining to hear the slow rise and retreat of waves against the shore, he was almost able to tune out Angrod and Fingon’s karaoke rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody as it deteriorated into chaotic screaming.

“Mind if I join you?”

Aegnor startled and looked towards the voice. It was the cute brunette he’d been stealing glances at all evening. Words congealed on his tongue.

“Yeah, sure,” he managed.

Stay cool, he thought to himself. Unlike his siblings, Aegnor was terrible with girls. He knew he was, objectively, attractive enough, but he was entirely lacking the charisma that came so naturally to everyone in his family. Well, except Orodreth: but Orodreth had found himself a marine as boring as he was to marry and that was that.

“I’m Andreth,” the woman said, slanting him a smile.

“Aegnor,” said Aegnor.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You do?” Aegnor sat upright.

Andreth shrugged and took a moderate sip from her red plastic cup. “Edhellos gave me everyone’s names.”

“Oh. Are you friends with my sister?”

“I have a class with Galadriel, yeah. But I mostly know Edhellos. She wanted me at the party as her wingman. But seems she’s doing fine without me.”

That was when Aegnor noticed a woman’s voice had replaced Fingon’s on the mic. There was more giggling than singing on her part.

“Yeah,” said Aegnor, and smiled. “If it’s my brother she’s after she won’t have any trouble with that.”

Andreth’s laughter wasn’t like most girls’ Aegnor’s age — all high and airy. It was genuine, a little wry, a soft low roll of amusement. He felt like a helplessly flopping fish being reeled into her orbit. Realising that half his torso was, in fact, reaching towards her, he pulled back sheepishly.

“So what class are you taking with my sister?” he asked, for the sake of saying something, but also because he was bursting with the desire to know everything he could about this person.

“Existentialism,” she said.

“Wow,” said Aegnor, then idiotically added, “you’re really smart.”

Andreth laughed again but didn’t deny it. “What do you do?”

“I, uh…” I’m a dumb jock, Aegnor thought. Definitely not good enough for you. “I play volleyball.” He didn’t mention it was for the varsity team. People tended to judge when they found out their athletic fees went towards your tuition.

“Cool,” she said, and the clenching beneath Aegnor’s ribs loosened when she didn’t scowl in distaste. “Your family is pretty athletic, huh?”

“Yeah, they are. Except Finrod. My oldest brother. He’s not here. I think you’d like him. He’s into deep shit, too.”

Then Andreth did scowl. A charming sort of scowl. “I don’t know, I find most philosopher types pretty annoying. Besides, what’s the point of filling your life with people who are just the same as you?”

Aegnor stared at her, seeing his own reflection in her big round glasses. His hair hung in his face, and he had a stupid grin plastered across it, but the openness, the warmth of Andreth’s expression put him entirely at ease.

She sipped her drink again without breaking eye contact, then licked a dribble of red wine from her lips. “Wanna go for a walk?” she asked.

Aegnor leapt up from his seat, and his head spun with the suddenness of the motion. “Yes, definitely!”

Fingolfin found his brother on the balcony, his forearms resting casually on the railing as he contemplated the street below.

“I don’t know why you bother with him,” Finarfin said, straightening. His bright green eyes caught the glow of the city light.

“You saw, eh?” Fingolfin sipped his champagne.

“Heard more than saw,” said Finarfin. “What was it about this time?”

“I extend my hand for him to take!” Fingolfin replied, exasperated. “I offer my help, and he hates me even more.”

“What did you do?”

Fingolfin sighed. “I offered to invest in his project. His translation app.”

“Oof.” Finarfin shook his head. “What were you thinking?”

“What do you mean? I thought to show my admiration of his ideas, I thought to build a relationship with him around something that wasn’t real estate-related.”

“You insulted him,” Finarfin said.

“How?!”

“Come, don’t be so naive. You think he wants your charity?”

“Charity. That’s what he said.”

“You know,” said Finarfin, “if you’re looking to dispose of money you have a brother whose always in need of producers.”

“I’ve told you before I’m glad to support your ideas, any of them.”

“Good! Because I was thinking of making a short documentary about the housing crisis in Beleria…”

Fingolfin glared down at him, and Finarfin grinned.

“I’m kidding, of course. I have no interest in getting involved in any issues, least of all yours. Nope. I’ll stick to the important stuff: staying behind the camera making romantic comedies to keep the masses distracted while my brothers pull at the edges of a fraying society.”

“Arvo…”

“I know, I know. You’re different.”

“I am,” Fingolfin asserted, as much for himself as for his brother. “In fact, I have been thinking of resolutions.”

“Have you?”

“Yes — and I think in the New Year I am going to conduct a company review. See if we can afford to do what I’ve always wanted, since the beginning. Affordable housing.”

“Really? That’s what you’ve always wanted?”

“Yes. And — I was thinking of mentoring one of my senior staff as a replacement and making a transition to politics. Elu has hinted that he intends to retire after his current term. I’d like to run for Mayor.”

“Huh,” said Finarfin. “That sounds like a great way to butt heads with Fëanor ten times more often than you already do.”

“Maybe I could inspire him to change, push him towards a more benevolent—”

Finarfin laughed, loudly.

“What’s so funny?” said a new voice.

Behind them, Fëanor loomed, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh hello, Fëanáro!” said Finarfin. “We were just talking about you.”

Fingolfin shot him a look. “We were not. Finarfin is drunk.”

“I wish,” Finarfin muttered, and frowned into his empty glass.

“Never mind, I don’t care,” said Fëanor, and flicked a dismissive hand in Finarfin’s direction. “I’d like to talk to you about your investment offer,” he said to Fingolfin, jutting his jaw forward proudly.

Fingolfin nearly dropped his drink. “Oh?”

“Yes. I’ve had a moment to consider.” (He’d spoken to Nerdanel, Fingolfin guessed, and had to bite his cheeks to keep from smiling.) “And I think it might be a sensible…” he squinted, as if the next word pained him— “partnership.”

Even though Celeborn had come to this party expressly to talk to Galadriel, it had taken him two hours to work up the courage to do so.

“Hey,” he said, coming to stand beside her. “I saw your drink was empty, and I uh, got you another one.”

He held out the cup for her to take. Vodka soda, right?” he confirmed, even though he’d conducted thorough research beforehand.

“Do I know you?” she asked, looking him up and down.

A lump of dismay lodged in Celeborn’s throat. But of course, why would she remember him? He might have been thinking of her for weeks, he might have contrived to find himself at this party for the sole purpose of crossing paths with her again, but she was… well, way out of his league, like Galathil had said. He wished he could sink through the floor.

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak. “We met at the Nordic spa, a few weeks ago. It was your birthday, I think.”

“Oh!” Recognition lit up her face and she accepted the drink. “Right, I remember. Tel-something, right?”

“Celeborn,” he said, and heaved a sigh of relief. “Yeah.”

“Nice to see you again, Celeborn. How’ve you been?”

“I don’t do karaoke,” Daeron had said, when Maglor had tried, shortly after their arrival, to drag him to the stage set up in the corner of one large room.

Some time later (who knew how long, time had blurred about half-way through the third beer), Daeron bounced beside him, belting, “Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy! But here’s my number, so call me maybe?” while Maglor’s attempts at harmonising were increasingly marred by fits of laughter. The alcohol helped, certainly, but Daeron was no less immune to the thrilling effects of an approving audience than Maglor.

After Angrod had disappeared with that vapid redhead and Fingon had escorted his sloshed redhead away from the festivities (Maglor had not seen Maedhros let loose like that for years and was happy both that his brother was having fun and that he would be Fingon’s problem in the morning), no one had contested Maglor and Daeron’s monopoly of the karaoke equipment. Which was good, because Maglor had no intention of ceding the spotlight to anyone else — besides, of course, Daeron.

“I’m worried,” Anairë said, then scraped an olive from her martini stick with her teeth. She chewed it thoughtfully.

“Oh, forget about them, girl!” Eärwen gave her a light smack. “Arvo will keep them under control.”

“I don’t know, they seem to be completely unaware of your husband’s existence,” Nerdanel said to Eärwen.

“Poor Arvo,” said Eärwen. “Maybe I should rescue him…”

“No.” Nerdanel extended one long braceleted arm to stop the other woman from stepping forward. “You’re right. He’s a tempering influence, even if they are ignoring him.”

“I can’t tell if they’re arguing or aggressively agreeing,” said Anairë, squinting. “The latter seems extremely unlikely, but…”

“One can hope,” said Nerdanel.

“Eeee!” Edhellos squealed, and stamped her feet excitedly.

“What was that about?” Angrod smirked at the delightfully rosy-cheeked girl he’d just pinned against the back of his bedroom door.

“I can’t believe it’s happening!” she gushed.

“What?” Angrod asked, though he had some idea. He nuzzled at her neck to bury his smug expression.

“You’re gonna be my midnight kiss!”

“I plan to be doing more than kissing you by then,” said Angrod, and dropped to his knees. His hands lingered over the curve of her ass. “God, you’re so hot.”

Across the bay, a single firework boomed and burst into a hundred golden rays.

“Must be almost midnight,” said Andreth. It was the first thing they’d said to each other in a while — ever since their hands had somehow found each other on the log between them.

“Mmhmm,” said Aegnor. He thought about checking the time on his phone but was too scared to move and break the spell of the moment.

“You wanna go back to the party for the countdown?” Andreth asked.

“I don’t think we’d have time,” Aegnor said.

“No, probably not,” said Andreth, and shuffled closer to him so their shoulders brushed.

Aegnor held his breath.

“Ger ready, folks! One minute to midnight!” a musician announced from the small stage at the front of the hall.

Anairë tutted. “This is his party, Fingolfin should be leading the countdown.”

“Shh. Leave them,” said Nerdanel, attention rapt on their husbands still locked in conversation.

“Well,” said Finarfin, pocketing his phone. “It’s almost midnight, I’m gonna go kiss my wife.”

Fëanor and Fingolfin were far too intent on each other to notice him leave.

“Hey guys! Twenty seconds to midnight!” someone screamed over the music.

“Shit!” said Maglor, abruptly interrupting a very entertaining rendition of Single Ladies.

“Someone dim the lights!” Daeron shouted.

“Ten, nine, eight…” Maglor yelled into the mic, a few seconds off.

“Do you hear that?” Angrod asked between gasps. “I think it’s midnight.”

Edhellos bent over him and shoved her tongue down his throat.

“… seven, six…”

Celeborn stared ahead, his cheeks bright pink.

“You okay?” said Galadriel.

“Hm?” he said as she tugged on his hand.

“…five, four…”

Not bothering to wait out the last three seconds, Galadriel grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him, drawing a surprised squeak from his throat that quickly slid into an adoring sigh as his hand found her waist.

“… three, two…”

“Why is everyone shouting?” Maedhros groaned, blearily blinking awake to see Fingon sprawled beside him on a strange bed. “Shit, did I fall asleep?”

“You did.” Fingon handed him a glass of water. Rivulets dribbled down Maedhros’ neck as he poured it back.

“Ugh. I really can’t do this anymore.”

“No. But I love you any way.” Fingon kissed his mouth, which must have tasted awful. “Happy new year, babe.”

“…one.”

A bouquet of fireworks exploded over the lights of Beleria in the distance, and nothing had ever seemed more natural to Aegnor than leaning in to push his fingers into Andreth’s dark hair and capturing her lips in a kiss.

“Happy New Year!!” chorused a hundred voices.

“My god, is it midnight already?” said Fëanor, pressing a hand to Fingolfin’s chest in his surprise. He had not realised they were standing so close.

“Guess so.” Fingolfin laughed.

“Well, brother,” said Fëanor, holding out a hand, “shall we seal our deal with a midnight handshake?”

A reckless, wicked smile, one he had never before seen, now leapt to life on Fingolfin’s face. “Am I not good enough for a kiss?” he said, and before Fëanor could protest Fingolfin had him in both arms, swooping him low and planting a firm kiss to his lips.

“Oh my god,” said Anairë. “Are you seeing—”

But she didn’t finish because Nerdanel’s lips had sealed off her throat.

It had been sloppy and broken up by giggles, but Maglor could not remember a more exhilarating kiss in his life.

He stared at Daeron. Daeron stared back. It was strange: they’d lived together a year, been sleeping together half that time, and yet, perhaps because of the haste and ease with which they’d fallen into a domestic rhythm, they’d neglected many of the customary milestones of a new romance.

Maglor said it first. “I love you.”

“Really?”

Maglor laughed. “Yes, really. Obviously.”

When Daeron continued to stare, Maglor nudged him. “Well? Are you gonna say you love me?”

“Yeah. Just… kiss me again first.”

“Gladly,” said Maglor, and did so, longer and less messily this time. Someone in the crowd whooped.

“Happy New Year,” Daeron said when they pulled apart. “I love you.”

The prompts for this were: Daeron/Maglor + Board games from @searchingforserendipity25 and same + Enduring the in-laws from @melestasflight (who also requested Russingon hooking up), Orodreth/His Partner + Winter driving from @acretosorien, Feanor & Fingolfin + Kissing at midnight (it's platonic) and Fingolfin & Siblings + Reflections and resolutions from @ettelene, and Aegnor/Andreth + Kissing at midnight from @emyn-arnens. I also included some bonus follow-up on this fill for Celeborn/Galadriel and Angrod/Edhellos. Whew!

#modern au #beleria au #my fic #daemags #aegnor x andreth #russingon #new year's eve #new year's fic #feanor #fingolfin #arafinweans

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dmagedgoods · 1 year

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Salvadore and Daeran in the absolute masterpiece @pauvre-lola did for me as a commission. I will never recover from how beautiful it is. 🌹

#daeran #daeran arendae #pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pathfinder wotr #commander x daeran #knight and dae #daeran x commander #wrath of the righteous #knight commander salvadore #oc: salvadore #my ocs #fairy tale of my dreams

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kkurades · 2 years

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sasha’s main masterlist !!

☆ ALICE IN BORDERLAND !! arisu, chishiya, kuina, usagi, ann, niragi, last boss, aguni, lisa, mira, heiya, karube

☆ ALL OF US ARE DEAD !! nam-ra, gyeong-su, ha-ri, wu-jin, min-jae, u-sin, cheong-san, na-yeon, su-hyeok, on-jo, joon-yeung, mi-jin, jae-ik, dae-su, gwi-nam

☆ JUJUTSU KAISEN !! choso, nanami, maki, megumi, nobara, noritoshi, sukuna, gojo, geto, inumaki, yuji, yuta

☆ BUNGOU STRAY DOGS !! dazai, kunikuda, fukizawa, ranpo, chuuya, akutagawa, poe, fyodor, nikolai, sigma, jōno, tetchō

☆ MY NAME !! mujin, gangjae, pildo, taeju, jiwoo

☆ SWEET HOME !! hyun-soo, eun-hyuk, eun-yoo, sang-wook, ji-soo, sung-cheol, jae-heon

☆ THE UNCANNY COUNTER !! so mun, do ha-na, shin hyuk-u, oh jeong-gu

☆ BLACK KNIGHT !! 5-8, yoon sa-wol, 4-1, seol-ah

☆ D.P. !! han ho-yeol, an yun-ho

☆ TWILIGHT !! embry call, seth clearwater, leah clearwater, paul lahote, quil ateara

☆ KPOP!! bts, stray kids, enhypen, txt, seventeen, p1harmony, ateez, aespa, blackpink, le sserafim, new jeans, itzy, (g)i-dle, twice, ive

#✩ ° ｡ sasha’s main masterlist !!

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cassynite · 9 months

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wip wednesday

today was basically just one long drawn out fart noise but at least i went back to my roots (daefic) and finished a scene, even if it is once again a chapter ahead of the place i need to be working on. behold: the back half of dae's shitty birthday party

Hours after, when the fog of drink has lessened the presence of ghosts, he sits at a table across from Sparrow and tries to maintain eye contact as they continue their interminably long drinking game. Sparrow's not doing well--she's struggling to stay upright, in fact, and should have cried surrender some five glasses of wine ago.

Daeran's own head is floating, his veins thudding with alcohol--he should have ended this three glasses or so ago, but at this point it's a matter of pride. He's going to knock Sparrow out or they'll have to carry him out, and he's not sure he cares which.

Ah, well. At least the last few hours have been entertaining. Or were entertaining, at least--the fun has grown a little thin, and certainly their audience, enraptured by the stalwart Knight-Commander letting loose, have grown bored. It's only him and her left in the main hall now, the rest having trickled outside to get some fresh air.

Gods, does he want some fresh air.

Later, he'll wonder if he imagined the conversation, conjured it out of nothing but the buzzing wine and his own strange thoughts about ghosts in the family manor that would not even come out to see him one last time. A drunken vision or truth, he is still surprised when Sparrow, listing to the side, fixes him with a glaze-eyed stare.

"You're allowed, you know. To do whatever you want with it."

"Excuse me?" Words are clumsy in his mouth, but he might not have done much better if he was sober. Sparrow's expression is open, disconcertingly so, naked in a way he'd only ever seen before in minute flashes when her emotions got the better of her. It makes him shift in his seat, uncomfortable, like he's looking at something he shouldn't, or like she is reciprocating an openness he hasn't realized he is giving himself.

"What happened here is yours," she says in the same intense, earnest voice. For someone who seems loathe to string more than five words together, the wine has made Sparrow very verbose. "It happened to you. No one else. And no one else can tell you the right way to feel about it. Throw a party, burn the house to the ground. Cry or laugh or sing or mock it. The only people who can care are the ones who this was done to--you are all that's left. The dead don't give a shit how they are mourned. So don't ever let anyone tell you that you're grieving wrong."

Something bubbles in Daeran's chest--laughter, maybe, but probably something worse. He swallows it down. As if he needs some stranger's permission to do what he likes with this house, with his things, with the memory of his mother. They don't know even a fraction of what he went through, what he endures every day.

He already knows that everyone who criticizes him are bores and upright, pompous, self-righteous sycophants toadying to the queen and Iomadae and good taste. They think they have the right to judge him, and that's their mistake. If he didn't want to be sad about what happened to him then he damn well wouldn't be, and there is nothing they can do about it except sneer; and they will sneer regardless.

He isn't some pathetic, sniveling victim boo-hooing about losing his mommy. He doesn't need pity. But it's not pity that he sees in Sparrow, it's something--something else, something he doesn't want to look at fully in the face. With some amount of shame, like he's lost a game he didn't know he was playing, his gaze slides to the wine glass in his hand, still half-full. His stomach roils. The thought of drinking another drop makes him sick.

I'm not grieving, he wants to say. I don't care what happened here. But the alcohol makes the words burn in his throat. He swallows them and the bile churning in his stomach down, lifting the glass of wine that he won't drink.

"My grandfather...or, maybe it was my great-grandmother, put this bottle in the family cellar. So why did it fail the scion of the illustrious Arendaes in his time of need?"

#cassy writes #cassy wips #does this feel true to dae's character? who knows!#oc: sparrow #daeran arendae #pwotr pals

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valdiis · 17 days

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Character Traits: Daephrin Astramente

— B A S I C S

Name: Daephrin Rosamar Astramente Nicknames: Dae, Lark, Samar, 'hey asshole!' Age: Somewhere around 32 Nameday: 15th sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon Race: Ishgardian Elezen Gender: Cisgender male Orientation: Bisexual and yes, please Profession: Sky pirate, treasure hunter, leather-worker, professional scoundrel

— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Warm black and windswept; straighter when it's very short or very long, wavy when it's a little shaggy. Eyes: Vivid emerald. Skin: Sun-tanned and lightly freckled. Tattoos/scars: No tattoos, a fading burn scar on his upper shoulders.

— F A M I L Y

Parents: Lucarian Astramente and Ilystra Rochenoire. Lucarian was a Temple Knight and Ilystra a noblewoman. When Lucarian married her, the official name of the noble house changed to his surname instead of hers. House Rochenoire was known for producing profound intellects and the Astramente line a knack for navigation. Ilystra died of pneumonia and several months later, Lucarian dropped dead of a heart attack. They say that couples in love rarely survive one another. Siblings: His older brother, Sarin, was a lancer and died in the Dragonsong War. His younger brother, Onaerion, is currently the head of House Astramente. Grandparents: Daephrin never knew them, but the Rochenoires were stiff, devout Ishgardians who had fallen on hard times and were very pleased to marry their daughter off to a relatively wealthy Temple Knight. The Astramente family was proud to count a Knight among their sons; they were mostly traders and trackers, barely a step above scoundrels but for their wealth. Wealth hides a multitude of sins. In-laws and Other: Though he is formally dating one man and unofficially entangled with another, Dae doesn't have any in-laws at this point. He has an Astramente uncle he's never met, but his mother was an only child. Pets: While he would like to have live pets one day, he fears he can't care for them at this time with his lifestyle. Instead, he has Sniffer, Spotter, and Sparrow - mammets made for him by his lover, Jaxon. Sniffer is a delightful little cat-dog mammet that sniffs out treasure. Spotter is a spider-like trap finder. And Sparrow is a bird-shaped recording device.

— S K I L L S

Abilities: Daephrin is quite a decent leather-worker, though he makes no fuss over it. More of a fuss is made over the fact that he's a crack shot with any ranged weapon of any kind (a manifestation of the Echo), including thrown knives. Just don't hand him a lance; he'll put someone's eye out. He knows Allagan programming language and technological construction. He can play piano pretty well. Hobbies: Aforementioned leather-work and Allagan treasure hunting. Airship maintenance for fun and profit.

— T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Dae is charming nearly to a fault. He can convince snakes to dance on their tails and Monetarists to part with their gil. He's got the perfect mix of a kind air, a clever mouth, and a fast mind; it makes him easy to trust, even when you probably shouldn't. Most Negative Trait: He is horribly, terribly self-centered. He struggles to put himself in other people's shoes or to think outside himself. He's working on it, but he's still pretty selfish.

— L I K E S

Colours: Black, gold, green. Smells: Well-oiled leather, bay rum, sun-warmed wood, his lovers' colognes (Jaxon and M'rath smell different, but equally amazing), fresh citrus. Textures: Silk, leather, black cat's fur, lacquered wood. Drinks: Whiskey, tea, hot chocolate, coffee, the occasional orange juice.

— O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Not anymore. Drinks: Sometimes. Drugs: Once in a great while, though he did more when he was younger. Mount Insurance: Uh... No? His usual mount is a motorbike, as he has not the facilities to care for an animal. (In practice, he rides a kamuy because I love them, but he wouldn't know what a kamuy is.) Been Arrested: He has so far escaped the law, but his luck may one day run out.

#ask meme #Daephrin Astramente

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sunnysideaeggs · 9 months

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what do you imagine the relationship like between Daeron and Alicent, and the rest of his siblings? like how would you cast it/present it if you could, and what would be his intro to the show? xx

In my Daeron feels getting ready for S2 <3333

Daeron is a kind of mysterious type of guy for me, the undeniable hero of Team Green and surrounded by mystery in his life and death.

By all means he’s a good kid, his mom’s favorite and the golden child. Being the youngest he probably was closer to Alicent than most of his siblings, and was the one they protected the most. I can see him getting a strict Hightower education (faith of the seven, scholarly inclined, politics and diplomacy) and excelling at it. Otto secretly wishing he was the firstborn lol.

I can see him looking up to his big brothers. He trains hard to be like Aemond, and cut his hair short like Aegon. Maybe as a kid he was following around Aegon and laughing at his jokes, and wanted so bad for Aemond to teach him to fight <3333

He gives me young Jaime and Sansa vibes, liking the stories about knights and fairytales. Him listening to Hel and her prophecies <333 or them both making life at court. Him and Hel were the most beloved of the Targtowers, so maybe Alicent took them both to do charity or to pray together. PR king.

Ideally, I would have introduced him by the time Jacaerys was born. Instead of the Joffrey birth scene, we can have a Jace birth scene along with a Daeron one. It would’ve brought more Rhaenyra/Alicent parallels and given Alicent a much needed birth scene, which the writers didn’t gave her. It makes the timeline smoother, the time jumps smaller and gives more time to develop the factions and rift between A/R. Also it brings a Jace/Daeron parallel too, as they’re the only heros of the dance. They were supposed to have shared the cradle. It also makes noise about Vizzy having a child and a grandchild the same age. But alas, hotd writers can’t write.

In S2, I would introduce Daeron by Otto sending ravens to their allies around Westeros. They’re our ‘eyes’ in all this. We can get some sneak peeks of how the ideological side of the conflict affects lords around Westeros and even peasants. For example, would a lord be more willing to support Aegon because he has a married older sister whose children could lay claim to his castle? Or a heiress lady who fears her bastard older brother? We can give actual reasons for the greens having support instead of “SHE HAS A PWUSSY, SHE CANT RULE” narrative the writers were pushing on S1.

And then, we have Oldtown. The great high tower, the citadel, the city vibrant and lively. We get closer, and in the training yard there’s our boy. A happy teen, he’s training with a few knights and the master of arms mentions how just recently he started training with real steel (this is important, shows his youth and how he’s not yet ready for war). From above, Gwayne (I’m going to assume he’s at Oldtown, since there was no mention of him at court lol) and Ormund are talking about the future, how Daeron is doing good, how will they start ‘movements’, etc. Ormund is called by his maester (the raven by Otto) and Gwayne gets a lil uncle-nephew bonding moment where Dae shows all his charisma and endears the audience because he’s the best boy.

While they talk (idk about what, how he misses him mom and sibs?) they head somewhere to see the blue queen, Tessarion, in all her magnificence. She’s happily purring while some maesters take care of her (grand maester conspiracy!) and make some annotations about godknowswhat. Tess and Dae bonds and Gwayne stays behind saying ‘he doesn’t trust dragons’.

(Just as an annotation, if Gwayne was indeed at KL and they just forgot to invite him to the coronation in E9, Ormund watches Dae alone, the talk can be done between Ormund and Dae, and the maester with the letter can be an ending to the scene with Tessarion. I am a flexible queen.)

The rest of the episode continues, yadda yadda. Btw, this is the first episode, Vhagar-ate aftermath. War is now imminent and this episode centers in the game of thrones aspects of all of this. We can also add Nyra grieving, Daemon being slimy and Aemond getting the chancla. Aegon’s party is a must too. We can even get Alicent being worried about her son at Oldtown, wishing he was with her and she could protect him (</3). If you want to get REALLY bookish, get me an old and wrinkled Vaegon at the citadel, frowning and staying tf out of it. As an easter egg.

At the end of the episode, we go to Oldtown again and Ormund sent for Daeron in his office. He asks him about family, politics, etc (makes him smart and gives redundancy to why the greens are fighting for). Ormund then asks about Tessarion, and how she’s growing well, etc. How she could fight in battles, if the need arose. Dae understands the danger and shows his loyalty to his family. Then we get the news of Vizzy, Aegon, Luke, etc. Daeron finishes with ‘What happens next?’, having a frame of his face. The shot ends. We get a view of Oldtown at night, getting closer to the high tower. We watch the beacon light up green. The credits roll up.

#sunny answers ☀️🍳#daeron targaryen #daeron the daring #tessarion #alicent hightower #house hightower #hotd #gods i made it too long but that’s my version of E1S2 #just the Oldtown/Daeron storyline #anyways hope you liked it nonnie #🫶🏻💕

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lovelyminako · 8 months

Text

Update on Survivor Ye-jun

After uploading to the disc server, I've been getting suggestions to make him more balanced so his perk is changed up a bit.

Perk

Ye-jun can click on another survivor’s icon to make them Concealed. When a survivor is Concealed, it will raise their undetectability to 75%. Whenever the Concealed survivor avoids detection, Ye-jun gains a stack which gives him an extra 10 points of stamina. Ye-jun has a max of 5 stacks at a time and loses the stack once the stamina is used up but can regain it.

However, if the Concealed survivor does get detected, the detection stays for the Concealed survivor 15 seconds longer than usual. This ability can only be used on one survivor and cannot be transferred if the survivor dies and the perk disappears once Ye-jun dies.

(He now gets 10 stamina instead of 20.)

“No one is going to find you. Don’t worry.” - Ye-jun Im

Stats:

Speed: 8/10

Stamina: 7/10

Stealth: 3/10

Composure: 3/10

Repair: 2/10

Healing: 7/10

(He now has 8/7 chase stats, 2 repair and 7 healing. People said he'd be too busted if he had high repair and high chase + good perk. So in compensation, his healing became higher. He also has his stamina lowered since his perk already helps him get stamina + his speed as well for more balance. So his stats are very similar to Nathan's now.)

Voicelines:

“Run away!”

“5, 6, 7 and 8!”

“I wonder how Dae is doing…”

“I’m not an obsessive freak, don’t look at me like that.”

“You never know who is looking.”

“Can’t find them, now can you?”

Quotes:

(His memories have been severely changed so now his voicelines are changed to fit new aspects of him. He doesn't have many voicelines when picking up certain survivors bc he's now in the social ranks of Yeona of not being liked by the other survivors since the other survivors are convinced that Survivor!Ye-jun is the same as Killer!Ye-jun but is keeping up his facade to remain in his relationship with Dae-jung with a few exceptions.)

Picking Up Ally:

Dae-jung (Alternate Universe Skin)

[Ye-jun]: “Guess I’m going to have to be your knight in shining armour.”

[Dae-jung]: “Aren’t you always that though?”

[Ye-jun]: “Please, don’t go just yet.”

[Dae-jung]: “No need to worry, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.”

[Ye-jun]: “I’m here now.”

[Dae-jung]: “And I couldn’t be happier.”

Dae-jung

[Ye-jun]: “Hang in there, Dae-jung! I’ll get you back up!”

[Dae-jung]: “Oh… Thank you, I suppose.”

[Ye-jun]: “So, the whole you know…”

[Dae-jung]: “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Yeona

[Yeona]: “Thanks, Ye-jun!”

[Ye-jun]: “No worries. We gotta move.”

[Ye-jun]: “Ooh… They got you good.”

[Yeona]: “Yeah… I’m fine though.”

[Ye-jun]: “You can still keep going, right?”

[Yeona]: “Of course!”

Eman

[Ye-jun]: “It’s not too suffering to be around her, right?”

[Eman]: “I’m used to it.”

Aaaqil

[Ye-jun]: “Why don’t you say anything to him? Perhaps it’ll be just nice to just get the feelings out. It’ll be cathartic.”

[Aaaqil]: “Thanks, but I’m not too sure about that.”

Crosby

[Ye-jun]: “Just so you know, I also know what it’s like to be in a forbidden relationship. If you need it, you got someone to talk to.”

[Crosby]: “Thank you! And I hope things work out for you!”

Rayner

[Ye-jun]: “Just so you know, I also know what it’s like to be in a forbidden relationship. If you need it, you got someone to talk to.”

[Rayner]: “Much appreciated, friend.”

Cora

[Ye-jun]: “Safe to say I returned the favour.”

[Cora]: “I suppose so.”

Nathan/Jun

[Ye-jun]: “You’ve got to teach me how you take hits like that.”

Javier

[Ye-jun]: “Hey, Dae’s other boyfriend.”

[Javier]: *insert response*

General

[Ye-jun]: “Don’t worry. You aren’t staying down.”

[Ye-jun]: “Hold still. I’ll help you up.”

[Ye-jun]: “Dae could probably teach me little more about this…”

Picked Up By Ally:

Dae-jung (Alternate Universe Skin)

[Dae-jung]: “Don’t worry, sweetie! I got you!”

[Ye-jun]: “Thanks, boo.”

[Dae-jung]: “Please don’t die on me, Ye-jun!”

[Ye-jun]: “I wouldn’t even dream of it, Dae.”

[Dae-jung]: “Oh god, that looks real bad.”

[Ye-jun]: “It doesn’t hurt much. Not when you’re here.”

Dae-jung

[Ye-jun]: “Take your time. You don’t have to rush.”

[Dae-jung]: “Thanks, Ye-jun.”

[Dae-jung]: “It still feels weird to do this with you.”

[Ye-jun]: “I’d imagine.”

[Dae-jung]: “It’s like looking into the past…”

[Ye-jun]: “I’m sorry.”

Yeona

[Yeona]: “Ye-jun! I got you!“

[Ye-jun]: “You’re a life saver. Quite literally.”

[Yeona]: “When do you think they’ll start liking me?”

[Ye-jun]: “I don’t know. It’s probably happening sooner with you than me.”

Yronica

[Yronica]: “You practically drool when you look at that boy.”

[Ye-jun]: “Gee, I could say the same for you with that green-haired girl.”

Cora

[Ye-jun]: “Hey, it’s you!”

[Cora]: “Hello again. Not doing so well, huh?”

Survivor Died:

Dae-jung (Alternate Universe Skin)

[Ye-jun]: “DAE!!! PLEASE, ANSWER ME!”

[Ye-jun]: “No… Don’t leave me! Please…!”

[Ye-jun]: “No, no…! I should’ve helped! I should’ve…!”

Dae-jung:

[Ye-jun]: “I swear when I see that guy…”

[Ye-jun]: “You son of…”

Last Survivor:

[Ye-jun]: “There’s no one else?”

[Ye-jun]: “Time to get serious.”

[Ye-jun]: “Alright, I can do this no problem.”

Chase:

The Idol

[Killer!Ye-jun]: “So you’re dating Dae-dae… You wouldn’t mind trading places, now would you?”

[Survivor!Ye-jun]: “You better not get close to him! I’m not afraid to throw hands!”

[Killer!Ye-jun]: “So it’s true that he does love me! I knew it! He’s just in denial!”

[Survivor!Ye-jun]: “He’s not loving you with that behaviour!”

[Survivor!Ye-jun]: “You’re sick in the head! What kind of monster are you?!”

[Killer!Ye-jun]: “You’re me and I am you. How come I am the monster?”

[Killer!Ye-jun]: “I don’t care if you’re me! I’ll get rid of anyone standing between me and Dae!”

[Survivor!Ye-jun]: “No one is standing between you two! He’s not with you because you messed up!”

The Showstopper

[Ye-jun]: “Fame has its drawbacks, you know!”

[Jules]: “Not that you’d know the joys. You were only in spotlight for a mere boy.”

[Ye-jun]: “Wh— That’s not true!”

The Ghost

[Kiara]: “You love to dance? I do too! You seem like my type of person!”

[Ye-jun]: “Then this is going to be fun!”

General

[Ye-jun]: “I can dance and sing for hours on end! This is nothing!”

[Ye-jun]: “Get ready to dance with me!”

Escaped Chase:

The Idol

[Ye-jun]: “What in the world did I become?”

[Ye-jun]: “Why did I do that? What happened with me?”

Backstory:

Ye-jun grew up in a well-off family that provided him with everything he could have ever needed. He knew he had it better than everyone else. He could have anything he wanted yet there was always this jealousy that existed inside of him.

Because of this, as a kid, Ye-jun was the most stuck-up and spoilt brat you could’ve ever laid your eyes on. He whined whenever another kid had something he wanted, whether it was a toy or candy. Although people weren’t that surprised of his behaviour considering his upbringing, he still got scolded on it. And Ye-jun began to understand that this behaviour was wrong.

As Ye-jun grew up, he became nicer. He tried to be polite to others and treat others respectfully. But even still, there was always that jealous and envious feeling inside himself. To have, to own. Ye-jun recognised these feelings and never understood them. He already had everything and the best of everything at that, why did he want more?

Ye-jun tried to ask teachers and other adults on what he should do with these feelings and Ye-jun gained a suggestion to instead give and be generous instead of feeling jealous. So Ye-jun followed it. Whenever he got a jealous thought about someone, he would instead try to do something nice for them, whether it was helping out with their homework or buying them a snack.

Students loved this and everyone soon knew him as a helpful person. Although it kept the feelings low and controllable, it did still exist within Ye-jun. But the feelings came at an all-time high when he met someone.

Dae-jung Pak.

He was also someone known to be a social butterfly and he just could click with others so naturally. He was so likeable, so genuine, so optimistic, so caring… But for some reason, Ye-jun wasn’t jealous of him. He didn’t want anything he had, materialistic or otherwise.

But he did want him. He wanted him bad. And that want spilled onto others. Whenever Dae-jung talked with others and acted like his normal, cheerful self, Ye-jun gained this insatiable feeling that he wanted that person to go away. He didn’t want anyone else to have him. But Ye-jun hated it. He hated the feeling. So he only did what was the natural instinct. Giving.

He tried to helpful to Dae-jung’s friends and even to Dae-jung himself, although he helped out Dae-jung because he genuinely felt like helping him out. Eventually, he soon became a part of Dae-jung’s social circle and they were practically inseparable. And although he had feelings for Dae-jung and knew it, he was never sure if he could ever confess. What if he’d just ruin everything between them? He didn’t want that. So he kept his feelings, like he always did.

One day, Dae-jung was thinking about auditioning to be an idol and all his friends encouraged him to try out, including Ye-jun. Dae-jung listened to them and he ended up getting in. But when he found out, Ye-jun soon realised that Dae-jung would never have any time with him to do his idol business. And selfish as it was, Ye-jun didn’t want that so he tried to audition as well, in a desperate attempt to stay with Dae-jung.

To his surprise, he got in. And soon, the two were going to be idols together.

After years of training, their group, STAR*STRUCK, made its debut and they became big. People loved them. Ye-jun and Dae-jung were soon big stars alongside their two other members Byung-ho and Han-gyeol. They were doing fan-meetups, making albums, even getting presents and letters from their fanbase. Although he shouldn’t been happier than anything, his jealous feelings raged at the fans and even his band members.

Why should they be around Dae-jung? Why should they be around someone who’s so selfless? He’s so kind and gentle, what gives them the right? Why should he share?

But Ye-jun didn’t want to feel that way. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way. They had a right; they could talk to Dae-jung. Ye-jun could only feel disgusted at himself.

However, after months of their debut, a miracle happened. Dae-jung pulled Ye-jun aside one day and confessed of how he was in love with him. Ye-jun felt euphoric. He couldn’t believe it. He accepted Dae-jung’s feelings with glee.

Ever since then, Ye-jun and Dae-jung have been secretly dating. They didn’t tell anyone about it, not even their trusted members. They didn’t want to take even the slightest chance that they could be exposed.

One day, they decided to have their first date. Of course, they first made it seem like they wanted the entire group there. But secretly, they planned it on a day where both Byung-ho and Han-gyeol were busy. They soon both went to a private spot on a hill. Just a simple romantic dinner for the two of them.

But when they woke up the morning after, they couldn’t have been expecting what came. They both woke up to a racket going on within the dorm their group shared.

Their manager came in, revealing that their date had gotten out and how everyone was talking about it. They were soon swiftly fired for breaking their contract. Dae-jung and Ye-jun soon started to feel melancholic about what was in store for the future as Han-gyeol and Byung-ho left them to process everything.

As the two held each other for comfort, a white mist filled the room. And when Byung-ho and Han-gyeol went to check up on the both of them, there was no sign of them. Nothing that showed they left or were hiding, like they disappeared into thin air.

(He's now updated to harbour the same feelings as his killer counterpart but he has the self control and moral compass to never enact on his feelings. However, his murderous tendencies do not exist at all.)

(This now exists bc two of the alt universe backstories have come out and it has shown that the people are the same as their other selves but an event happened differently which made them go down a different road. So in this case it's that Ye-jun recognised his jealous behaviour early on and tried to combat it which prevents him from murdering his band members and dating Dae.)

#daybreak roblox #roblox #ye-jun im #survivor ye jun im

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