#and yet unable to stop loving her and stop choosing her?

[lunafeather]

Haha do you ever think about how the last time Elendil saw Isildur alive was when Orodruin was erupting and he chose to sprint through the literal fire rocks falling from the sky to find his Queen and keep her safe instead of staying with his son to make sure he was safe

Do you ever think about the guilt Elendil must feel for abandoning his son when it seemed like the world was ending

Do you ever think about the resentment and desperation and codependency Elendil feels towards Miriel because of that choice, and how it will color their relationship forever even though she did nothing to cause it

#CAUSE I DO #do you ever think about the twisted state of Elendil's feelings as he falls in love with the queen #knowing he chose her over everyone else before he even loved her? #and how once he does love her he doesn't know what choices he would make again? #and how that makes him feel rancid and hollow and festering #and yet unable to stop loving her and stop choosing her? #how that guilt and codependency will alter their paths in the conflicts to come #anyway I think about this a lot #The Rings of Power #Elendil #Elendil the Tall #Isildur #Tar Miriel #leaving the romantic stuff in the tags cause I know not everyone ships it #Star Jewel #Elendil x Miriel

[queers-gambit]

Mother Knows No Bounds

prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.7k+

note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote

warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother. descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?

please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content: descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.

you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!

The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.

Women skinny dipped. Children ran around without their clothes. Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.

The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.

The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.

It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.

For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.

Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.

You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.

21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.

Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.

However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.

The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.

The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.

Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.

Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.

Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.

Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.

You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.

"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."

"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.

"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"

"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.

He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"I've asked you why."

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.

"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."

Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."

"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."

Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."

"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.

"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.

"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.

"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."

You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."

You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.

When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"

"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."

"Mother, it's too hot for - "

"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.

"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."

"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "

"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."

Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."

So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.

Sweat bulleted on brows. Pale cheeks flushed with heat. Legs started to shake from stress. Clothes dampened and clung to skin.

You were all of the above and then some!

The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.

Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.

Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.

Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.

This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."

"What 'bout the li'l one?"

"Pardon?" Otto blinked.

"The Queen's last son?"

"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.

Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...

"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."

"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.

"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."

"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.

"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."

Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.

The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.

"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."

"We're almost done - "

"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."

You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.

The hall was too hot.

Stifling hot. Suffocatingly hot. Stuffy sort of hot.

Overwhelmingly hot.

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!

Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!

So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!

However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.

"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"

But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.

"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"

"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.

"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"

"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.

"What happened?" Otto demanded.

"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."

"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."

"You saw the Grand Maester?"

"We did."

"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.

"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.

When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.

When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"

"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"

"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.

"Mother didn't demand you stay?"

"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."

"He was?"

"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.

When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.

The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.

He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.

You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.

Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.

"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.

"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."

"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.

"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."

Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."

With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."

"I-It was a girl?"

"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."

"But my body - "

"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."

"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"

Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."

"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."

"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."

When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."

"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"

"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"

"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"

"How was I to know - "

"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"

"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."

"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."

"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"

"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.

"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."

It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.

Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."

Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."

"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."

"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."

"Just lay with me," you requested.

He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."

"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"

"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."

Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."

"I do not deserve a woman like you."

"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"

His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."

A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.

You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.

You didn't move, staring into the flames.

Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.

King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.

For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen angst

[illyrianbitch]

Where I Left My Lover

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: After a brush with death, Azriel makes a difficult decision to protect you.

Warnings: angst!!!! & bad decisions.

Word Count: 3.8k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

With a forceful push, the door to Rhysand’s office swung open as Nesta swept into the room, eyes blazed with a fury that made Azriel swallow. Cassian’s loud footsteps echoed as he followed after his mate.

"Tell me it isn't true," she demanded, her voice a low, dangerous growl.

Rhysand moved to intercept her, his hand outstretched in a futile attempt to stop her from her warpath. "Nesta, perhaps we should—"

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Nesta shoved him away with a forceful gesture, her gaze fixed on Azriel. The shadowsinger stood eerily still, even his shadows unmoving. 

"Azriel," she said, her voice trembling with anger. "Tell me it isn't true."

His gaze faltered, and suddenly he found himself unable to meet Nesta's accusing, burning stare. He looked away, his shadows curling into themselves behind him, as if retreating in shame.

Nesta's anger flared, hands clenching at her side. She breathed out sharply, the sound a mixture of frustration and rage. Whipping around to face Rhysand, she leveled a searing gaze at him.

"I expect something like this from you," she spat, her tone laced with contempt.

Rhysand's expression hardened into a withering glare, but before he could respond, Nesta turned back to Azriel. "But you?" she continued, her voice dripping with disappointment. "You're supposed to be better than this."

Azriel's jaw tightened as he grit his teeth together. From behind Nesta, he watched as Cassian approached, staring at him with a frown and furrowed brows. Azriel looked back to Nesta.

“You don’t understand-”

 "I don't care," she retorted, her tone icy. "You cannot do this. Not to Y/n."

At the mention of your name, Azriel's heart clenched, a wave of sadness washing over him like a relentless tide. He swallowed hard.

"This is for Y/n," he responded, his voice low. Flat.  "To keep her safe."

"That is not your decision to make," Nesta snarled, "You are stripping her of her right to choose, and you know deep down she wouldn't want this."

There was something about the way Nesta spoke, how she stared at him with such disappointment, that made him angry. Azriel was making the right decision. He was being selfless, yet everyone was seeing it the other way, seeing him as some monster.

Within seconds, his control slipped, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he took a step forward, his eyes flashing with a dark intensity. "She almost died!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with desperation. "She almost died because of me. I don't care what she wants. I'm doing this to keep her safe."

Cassian moved quickly, placing a firm hand on Nesta's shoulder. “Watch it,” he growled as he met Azriel's gaze.

Azriel blinked. And then he was composing himself once more, moving back into a straight posture. "I'm doing this because I love her," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with sorrow.

"No," Nesta said, her voice sharp. "This is not love. This is wrong. And if you go through with it, I'll never let you forget it."

As Nesta turned to leave, Azriel felt a pang of regret gnaw at his heart. A wave of guilt washed over him at the realization that he had disappointed someone he cared about so deeply. He truly cared about Nesta, respected her strength and conviction, and the thought of her walking away, angry and disillusioned, made him sick to his stomach. Had he lost two people today? Was he truly doing the right thing?

Yes, he reminded himself. Images of you conjured in his brain— your pale, bruised and bloody body, the way you laid limp in his arms. He thought back to how he’d relished in the screams of the soldiers who had tortured you, how he took his time carving them out for what they had done. He thought about how long you’d been in that bed, unmoving with shallow breaths, how scared he’d been that he’d lost you. You were human. You were something he could lose. And his life, his duties, had almost cost him your life.

Azriel looked up to meet Rhysands gaze, who had been standing in quiet observation, making no move to talk or intervene. Azriel had already spoken to Rhys, had gotten the same discussion from him. His gaze flickered to Cassian, who was shaking his head as he stared out of the door his mate had left through.

“Nes is right,” Cassian said, “I mean, we’ve done our fair share of questionable things, but this?”

He paused for a moment, eyes darting between his two brothers.

“It’s what needs to be done,” Azriel said.

Cassian shook his head. “No. It’s what you think needs to be done. And you’re wrong.”

Azriel let out a deep exhale, his jaw clenched. 

“Rhys,” Cass said, turning to face the High Lord. “C’mon. You know better than this. You really think this is okay?”

Rhysand held his gaze. For a moment, Cass believed he’d gotten through to his brother, that perhaps he’d realized how far this was going to go, how wrong Azriel was. But Rhysand simply straightened his posture.

“I’m not a part of this,” was all he responded.

Cass shook his head once more, poking a finger into Rhysand’s chest.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Az has lost his goddsdamned mind. Why are you entertaining this?”

It was Azriel who moved next, walking up to Cassian and pushing him away with a small shove. He gave a snarl, shadows swirling around his forearms. Cass looked down at the hand pressed against his chest, and then up at Azriel with flared nostrils and a look of deep disappointment in his eyes.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Azriel growled, “You think this is something I want to do?”

Cassian pushed him off.

“I think you’ve lost sight of what is fear and what is reason.”

“Enough,” Rhysand commanded, walking to the two males to separate them with his extended hands. He turned to Cassian and let out a small exhale. Cass saw it, then, the sadness in his eyes. 

“In the centuries that Azriel has been a part of this family, a part of this court, he has not asked for favors. He has asked me now, and I owe it to him.”

Cassian let out a small scoff. It was a losing game. They were all stubborn— it came with their lineage, with their dna. So he settled at casting Azriel another glance and frowned.

"This is selfish, Az," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "She is not only yours. She’s family. She’s Nesta’s friend. She’s my friend—"

Something flickered in Azriel's eyes, a weariness settling over him as he grew tired of defending his actions. "Do you want her as a friend or do you want her alive?"

Cassian slightly recoiled, a small tick in his jaw. “That’s not fair.”

“Cassian,” Rhys said slowly, “Leave.”

Cassian rubbed his jaw, a heavy anger simmering beneath his skin as he shot one last glare at Azriel. "Whatever," he muttered in disappointment, "I can’t even look at you."

And with that, he turned and stalked out of the room.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The soft chirping of birds filled the air, the sounds a gentle caress against Azriel’s skin. The beauty around him stood out in stark contrast to the heavy silence that hung over him like a suffocating cloak. He’d always loved your little home, loved how secluded it was, how quiet. Everything was slower here, more timid, more calm. 

You were inside with Rhysand, now, and Azriel could hear the faint echo of your voices. It didn’t last long. Within moments it went quiet, and Az clenched his fists at his side.

The longer he lingered outside, the more he felt the pull of your presence, the echo of your touch haunting him like a ghost. Azriel fought every urge to run back inside, to hold you and kiss you again like he had moments prior. It wasn't long enough. He should have taken another minute, another hour. But he knew, deep down, it would never be enough, that it would never be the right time. The longer he spent with you, the longer he felt your touch, it broke him even more.

Azriel’s shadows pulled at him, wrapping around his ankles as if to pull him back inside. He scolded them, his wings twitching as he slightly kicked his feet. They swarmed once more. They were angry at him too. Azriel knew this. He felt it in their touch, in the way they’d whisper. He did his best to ignore it.

He wasn’t being selfish. He was putting you first.

There was a faint creak as the door opened behind him. Swiftly, he turned around, his eyes locking with Rhysand's as his brother stepped out and closed the door behind him with a deliberate slowness.

Rhysand gave Azriel a small, curt nod.  "It's done.”

Azriel's chest tightened, a lump forming in the back of his throat. "Is she-" he began, his voice catching in his throat.

“She’s alright.”

There was a heavy ache in Azriel’s chest now, something tender like an open wound. His heart felt hollow. Empty. He looked down at the ground, at the shadows at his feet, and tightly shut his eyes. 

Rhysand’s face softened. “Az,” he started, but Azriel simply shook his head. 

"Don't," he whispered hoarsely. And before Rhysand could respond, he disappeared.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel stood outside the small inn, his heart pounding in his chest as he hesitated at the threshold. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't risk drawing attention to himself or risk the chance of undoing what he’d chosen to do. But the pull of his own longing had been too strong to resist. He’d lasted longer than expected, but even then, he’d been in agony. He was restless, angry, and above all else, he was lonely.

With a deep breath, he adjusted his posture, making a mental check of the glamour he’d put around himself, concealing his wings and any other identifying features of his. Even with the cover, he kept his wings tightly folded against his back, just in case something went awry.

And then he entered, casting a wary glance around the room as he made his way through the crowded floor. His hands were tucked securely in his pockets, his shadows coiled around him like protective tendrils. He’d done his best to make them blend into the black material of his clothing, told them to stay put and ripple like fabric would. 

Finding a small table in the corner, Azriel made his way over, but as he lowered himself into the seat, a nagging voice in the back of his mind warned him of the folly of his actions. This was stupid, dangerous, and entirely self-indulgent. Dangerous, dangerous, his shadows echoed. He tightened his jaw. He would only be here for a few moments, he told himself, he just wanted to see you— once. That was all.

His shadows whispered louder, a small anxious buzz in his head. He needed to leave before it was too late.

But before he could make a move, he looked up and froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“Hello,” you said timidly, giving him a small smile. Azriel’s heart leapt as the sound, a sudden rush of warmth filling his veins. Your hair was shorter now than the last time he saw you, and you wore a few dainty gold chains around your neck that he’d never seen. Had you bought those recently? Made them with your friends? They looked beautiful on you. And you had so much color. You looked alive. You looked happy.

A moment passed as Azriel simply stared at you, and then he was shaking his head slightly, freeing himself of the daze he had fallen into. 

“Uh, hi- hello.” 

It was then he finally noticed the two small glasses in your hands, both filled slightly with an amber liquid. You followed his gaze, looking down at your own hands. You frowned slightly and then you extended one towards him. 

“I’m not sure why I brought this,” you admitted, “But here. This is for you.”

Azriel swallowed, gently reaching out to take the small cup from your hands. His fingers brushed against your skin ever so slightly and he nearly jumped at the contact, a tingling sensation filling his body.  Your brows furrowed as you observed his hands, your gaze tracing over the perfectly smoothed, tan skin.

He had them glamoured too, just to be safe. 

He watched as you blinked, your expression shifting with a mixture of confusion, as if you sensed something wrong. A wave of sickening guilt rolled through his stomach. His shadows circled at his feet— subtly enough that they’d blend in to the darkness of the cornered floor, but strong enough to where Azriel felt them, pawing at him like dogs to an owner.

“Thank you,” Azriel finally brought himself to say.

Your gaze instantly flickered back to his eyes. You scanned his face, taking in his features, the brown of his eyes. And then you gave him another smile, a small blush forming on your cheeks. You looked over to the empty seat in front of him. 

 "Do you mind?" 

Azriel felt a surge of flustered panic coursing through him, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to compose himself. "Oh, yes, of course, please," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He readjusted himself in his own chair.

As you settled into the seat across from him, Azriel couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He watched, mesmerized, as you took a small sip from the glass, the soft curve of your lips bringing back every memory he’d held of them.

He watched as you scanned the crowd. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to look away, to break the spell. This would only make things worse for him. But try as he might, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you, couldn't tear himself away from indulging in your presence. It took every ounce of restraint within him not to lean forward, to reach out and caress you.

You caught Azriel's gaze as he quickly averted his eyes, a small laugh escaping your lips at his sudden shyness. "I'm sorry for interrupting your quiet time," you said.

Azriel shifted in his seat. "No," he replied, a bit too quickly, his voice catching in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean, I don't mind."

You smiled, a warmth in your eyes that made his heart flutter– something just as painful as it was comforting.

 "This may sound silly, but it feels like I was supposed to come talk to you," you confessed, your voice soft.

A tug in his chest. “Really?" 

"Yes," you replied, your gaze drifting momentarily to the crowd before returning to him. "I'm quite good at listening. Maybe you need a good ear."

Azriel chuckled softly. You always were great at listening, even better at talking, too. It was a perfect balance. He’d always loved that about you. Your presence was so calming, so quiet compared to the loudmouths he called family, even if he loved them dearly. He missed it, how gentle you were. 

"I don't know if that's what I need.”

You tilted your head, studying him with a curious expression. "What brought you here today?" 

Azriel thought for a moment, his gaze falling to his glass as he traced a finger along its rim. He knew he couldn't hide the truth from you, not when you were always so good at reading him, so stubborn at getting what you really wanted.

After a brief pause, he finally admitted, "A girl."

Your eyes lit up with interest, a smile gracing your lips as you leaned in slightly. "Yeah?" you asked, “She somebody special?”

Azriel met your gaze, attempting to muster a smile, but a lump formed in his throat, choking back the words he struggled to say. He bounced his knee nervously under the table. “She was. I can’t seem to let her go.”

Your frown deepened at the admission, a pang of sympathy tugging at your heart. "I'm sorry," you murmured. 

But Azriel quickly shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips as he reassured you, "It's alright."

Silence enveloped you for a moment.

"She was the love of my life," Azriel said, his voice softer than he’d ever heard it. He glanced up at you, instantly finding your attentive gaze that met his own.

You remained quiet, but he knew the look on your face. Eyes wide, slight furrowed brows, a small smile. You were urging him to continue, waiting for him to finish, to be heard.

"Beautiful, kind, funny," he continued, his voice soft with reverence. "Also a great listener."

As he spoke, memories of moments shared with you flooded his mind, each beautiful and painful in their own rite, a haunting sense of longing drowning his senses. 

You gave a small breathy laugh. 

"No wonder you can't let her go," you said. There was a ting of sadness in your gentle voice. Azriel wondered what it was for. 

"Yeah," he agreed softly, his gaze drifting back to his glass.

Silence settled between you once more, the air heavy with every unspoken thought and emotion that Azriel felt. He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he let it slip. But before he could stop himself,  Azriel looked up, his gaze searching yours as he asked, "Have you ever felt that way?" 

You paused, caught off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. For a moment, you opened your mouth to respond, but the words eluded you, leaving you with a furrowed brow and a frown of uncertainty.

You slumped slightly in your chair, a heaviness settling over you as you admitted, "No, I haven't." 

Azriel's heart sank at your response, a pang of disappointment coursing through him despite his efforts to suppress it. He had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that there might have been a glimmer of memory within you, somewhere deep in your bones that recognized him. 

He didn’t know why he pressed further, didn’t know why he couldn’t stop himself from talking. He felt his shadows slowly rising from his feet, now surrounding his thighs. He pushed them back. 

"Have you ever been in love?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

A part of him dared to hope yet again, to cling to the possibility that you feel the same yearning, the same ache that he’d felt for years. But even as he spoke the words, another part of him recoiled in shame, knowing that he had no right to ask, no right to expect anything from you. He had dug his own grave. This was his doing. This was his choice— and he was being selfish. He was being so utterly selfish as he sat there before you. 

Still, the longing lingered, a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished, even in the face of his own self-imposed exile. But as he watched you, the sadness etched in your features, he knew that his hopes had been in vain.

Your gaze met his, troubled and uncertain, and you hesitated before answering, "I— No. I don't think I have."

Azriel felt a wave of sadness wash over him at your response, a deep ache settling in his chest. His heart was burning now, a pain that made him queasy, made him want to cry and scream at the same time. He decided this was worst than any torture– having to sit across from you as a stranger, as someone who was unable to touch you, hold you, tell you how beautiful you looked, and listen to you say you’d never been in love. Because you had been. You were deeply in love, so in love it scared you both. 

A hot anger filled him. He mourned his old life. He mourned his future with you. You were something real. He had something real. But his past, his duty, his life, it had prevented him from keeping it all, from indulging in a life much simpler than his own, one where he could sit across from you in a run-down inn and watch drunken village males make bets with one another. 

But it was still his fault. He had done this. And you sat before him, a look of frustration on your face, as if you could feel something was off. Shame filled him. He needed to leave. 

Quickly he brought his cup to his lips and chugged the remainder of his drink, the burn of alcohol a bitter sensation that he welcomed with open arms. 

"Thank you for the company," Azriel said as he pushed himself up from the table.

Your gaze followed him, a flicker of concern in your eyes as you watched him rise. "You're leaving?" you asked with a frown.

Azriel nodded, his movements stiff as he straightened his posture. "It was very nice meeting you," he replied, his voice strained as he turned to go.

But before he could take another step, you spoke again, your words stopping him in his tracks. "Wait," you said, the chair sliding on the floor as you stood.

Azriel turned back to face you, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited your next words. It was getting harder to breathe now, his heartbeat shuddering in his ears. He needed to leave. 

"I hope that one day I'll experience a love like that," you said, pausing for a moment. With a soft, but hesitant, smile, you continued, "That one day, someone will love me like you loved her."

A flicker of surprise crossed Azriel's features. His mouth fell open slightly as he took a sharp inhale. And then he was swallowing heavily, blinking away the pressure building up behind his eyes. 

“You will,” he responded, his voice a slight croak. He cleared his throat, looking to the floor for a second. Then, his gaze was holding yours for a lingering moment. "Goodbye, Y/n.”

You watched his retreating figure with a small smile on your lips. But then, like a sudden bolt of lightning, a realization struck you. You frowned.

Your feet moved of their own accord, propelling you forward faster than your mind could process. You dashed to the entrance, flinging open the door as sunlight flooded your vision, momentarily blinding you.

"Wait! How did you know my—" you began, the words catching in your throat as you stepped outside, your eyes scanning the area in search of Azriel's retreating form. But to your dismay, there was no one there, no trace of him to be found, only the empty street stretched out before you, bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sun.

Your voice trailed off into a whisper as you finished your sentence, "name.”

Your name.

How did he know your name?

Frowning, you brought a hand to your chest, feeling a small burning fluttering sensation in your ribs. With a sigh, you bit the inside of your cheek. You turned around and made your way back inside, your heart now heavy with a sensation you didn’t quite know how to name.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

a/n: since in death & his reaper azriel forgot about reader, i obvs had to balance the scales and write one where the reader forgets az. we luv angst!!! hope y’all enjoyed 🫶🏻

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader angst #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction

[gummygowon]

my girl(s) | choi san

word count: 1.27k hehe

genre: fluff bro so much, slight childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, soon to be dad!san x pregnant!reader

warnings: san just worrying too much that he gets exhuasted

song playlist: my girl - the temptations, be my baby - the ronettes, la vie en rose - èdith piaf

author's note: seeing san get heated about how that one husband treats his wife made me think about how sweet and caring san would be in a relationship and then i started playing fifties's music and boom here where we are

choi san was just an absolute gentlemen, it was one of the many reasons why you loved him so much.

you vividly remember when you were younger, san declaring to the dinner table that his wife's hands will never be wet in the future, promising that he will be doing everything for her which impressed all the other neighborhood parents. a few parents joked at him to remember their daughters in the future which you rolled your eyes at. san was obviously bluffing and trying to impress everyone. you found it hard to believe that a man would be able to care so much for his wife like san said.

it was almost laughable how wrong child you was.

san quite literally did everything around the house, always insisting that you go lie down and relax even though he just came home from work. it was definitely a hassle trying to get your husband to relax let alone sit down after dinner since he was always insisting that he did the dishes even if he cooked.

"san, baby go shower," you whisper into his ear while he was doing the dishes, "let me do this. go relax."

instantly turning around in protest, san folds his arms in front of his chest, "no."

"san," you warn, the mother in your voice coming out.

"absolutely not." san protests, standing up even taller to tower over you, "you are my pregnant wife who needs to rest. i need my girls to rest."

"san, we don't even know the gender yet." you argue. it was only today that you found out you were pregnant after you realized that you were two weeks late and sped to the nearest drugstore for a test.

"i know but i think we're having a girl." san says knowing with smile on his face, he was just getting excited at the thought of having a baby girl. "still though, you should rest."

"san, i'm fine, you on the other hand should rest."

"but-"

"who has a eight hour shift at seven am tomorrow baby?"

"i do." san dejectedly answers with a pout on his face. san didn't hate his job as a martial arts instructor but if he had to choose between you and his job, he would choose you without a doubt over and over again.

"i promise when my belly grows you can pamper me all you want but not yet. you still need to take care of yourself before i'm unable to take care of myself."

"promise?" he asks as he intertwined his fingers with you.

"promise." you answer before sealing the deal with a kiss.

a few months later, when the baby bump began to show, san became even more protective of you.

finally on your maternity leave, you spent the time at home reading parenting books and knitting clothes for your baby making an assortment of colors. sometimes, you ventured down to the dojo that was connected to the house causing san to stop whatever he was doing and guide you down the stairs.

"yah! choi san!" you shout at your husband who completely abandoned his lesson to aid you, "i can walk down just fine! go back to teaching!"

"no!" he argues before turning back to his class to yell, "five minute water break!"

a collective "yes sir" was heard from the group as the students dispersed to the sidelines.

"san, i love you but i promise i'm fine!"

"i know, but i still worry over you my love." san confesses as he carefully holds your hand as you walk down.

"aigoo..."

closer to your date, you spent most of your days either in the dojo working at the front desk so that san could keep on you (more like you could keep an eye on him) or upstairs reading more parenting books and preparing the baby's room.

"how's the baby?" wooyoung asks, an old friend of san who occasionally stopped by the dojo to check up on you and take out san to relax.

"doing great! the doctors are saying the baby is healthy and don't see any problems or complications yet."

"ahhh, that's great to hear! how's san doing though? still stressing?"

"oh you bet he is." you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "taking him out for a drink tonight?"

"trying to but you know he doesn't like to leave your side."

another sign escapes your lips, it was possible that san was stressing you out by not being able to relax. "i'll convince him. he's been worrying too much."

"good luck with that one." wooyoung laughs.

"woo!" your husband shouts at his best friend coming out of the studio to the front with a towel in hand. "what brings you here?"

"just checking in your wife and the baby." wooyoung starts before flashing a quick glance at you, "but the boys and i are about to head down to the bar if you wanna grab a drink."

"ahhh, you know i would love to but," san says looking down at you with a smile. lately he's been running around the house trying to satisfy you're weird pregnancy cravings and help with the morning sickness all while still working full time down at the dojo. the stress and exhaustion was evident on your poor baby's face as the eye bags deepened and he wasn't his cheery self.

instead of returning the smile, you frown at him confusing san. "go sannie, i'll be fine."

"don't-"

"san, i will be okay." you laugh a little, trying to ease san's nerves, "i'll be down the street okay, baby? you deserve a break."

san looks back at wooyoung who looks eerily similar to the devil on his shoulder. "are you sure? what about dinner?"

"your mom dropped off some soup for us earlier, i can eat that. go out, have fun! you need to have some fun once in awhile baby."

"fine, but not too late." san complies while pointing a finger at wooyoung.

"i promise to bring him before eleven ma'am." wooyoung promises saluting to you before shooing san to go get changed.

"take care of him woo!"

the day of the pregnancy was absolutely terrifying yet exciting. it was the thrill of finally becoming parents that was the only thing keeping you sort of calm. your mind wandered every now and then to the idea of you being a bad mother but san was quick to shut down those thoughts.

you guys still didn't have any idea of what the gender was, deciding it would be fun to find out the day of. san was still confident that you guys were going to have a girl even though all the ajummas begged to differ with their superstitions.

"it's a girl!" the doctor exclaimed cuddling the newbown baby.

"i told you!" san shouts jumping into the air out of excitement before wrapping his arms tightly around you, his lips on your forehead. "thank you. thank you so much." tears of happiness flowed from san's eyes as he held you close, his warm embrace making you feel overwhelmed with his love.

"i love you so so much." san cried into your neck as he looked through blurry eyes at you cradling your daughter.

you couldn't even say anything too tired and overwhelmed to give a proper response. instead, you just cried with san holding the baby so close to your heart.

it felt refreshing? calming? something like that to be able to cry away your emotions. even the worries of becoming a mother washed away and instead hope and excitement for the future replaced the negative thoughts. you couldn't believe that you finally have a kid with the love of your life, not even just the love of your life but your best friend in the whole wide world.

god, you were so lucky to have a san in your life and he was just as lucky or even more to have you in his life. now, the both of you were fortunate to have a third in your new little family.

san let out a sniffle before planting a wet kiss to the crown of your head, "my girls."

#the delusions delusioned here #ateez oneshots #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez fluff oneshots #ateez fluff imagine #ateez fluff imagines #ateez fluff #choi san oneshots #choi san fluff #choi san imagines #choi san x reader #san oneshots #san fluff oneshots #san fluff #san imagines

[danytar]

“The reason I believe in fate”

Pairing: Dark!Aegon!Targaryen X Sister!Wife!Reader’

Warnings: Incest,blood, mention of labor, b&c,mention of miscarriage,depression,anxiety.

Summary: Aegon and his wife have always been so close but after their son murder and a giant gap forms between them and they don't know how to fill it..

“Which one, lovely queen? The older...the younger? Or maybe your little princess?”.

“No- please.. I beg you! don't hurt them!”.

“This is not the correct answer lovely queen”.

“PLEASE! I BEG YOU! ”.

“Choose quickly before I rape your daughter”.

“NO- NO!”

The young queen woke up from her nightmare terrified breathing difficulty. Her heartbeat is faster than ever she put her hand to her mouth and her tears flowed on her check, She was drenched in her sweat and her tiredness.

She pulled the sheets aside to find them stained with blood again,The queen had been bleeding for three whole weeks and her bleeding had not stopped yet because of the horrible miscarriage, She got out of her bed and took a glass of water to calm herself down.

She drank her cup and went back to her bed. It seemed that sleep itself was starting to throw her away as well,she tried to go back to sleep but she couldn't..

The king on the other hand was lying in his own chambers after his queen refused to share the bed with him, he began sleeping alone and empties his fluids in the whore and buries his sadness and anger inside them, just as he buries his cock in them.

There is a very big gap that has torn their relationship apart, he can't help but feels anger and grief every time he remembers his wife.. He hates how she started pushing him away from her as if he was the one responsible for killing their son.

She literally refuses to eat with him, sleep with him, or even talk to him, most of the time it was short conversations, She was even skipping the council meetings the thing that bothered him the most whenever he sees her empty seat in front of him.

Maybe he was too selfish to see that she was in pain? he will never know...

“How should I know when she refuses to talk to me?! ” He huffs to himself and pushes his cups aside, He was devastated as she was, they both drink the poison from the same vine he needs him queen.

His rock was broken to pieces and he couldn't do anything but watching her become ashes before his eyes, she has entered a path of no return..

“Are you okay your grace? ”. The blonde girl got up from his bed and put her hand behind his bare shoulder, He stared silently out the window and sipped the wine from his cup.

“Come on.. I can take care of you since your queen is unable to do so.” Her tone carried a kind of mockery and sarcasm, aegon knew exactly what she meant by her words he squeezed his fist on the cup till the cup broke in his hand and injured himself.

He turned to face her and slapped her hard until she fell to the ground “You have no right to insultmy wife in front of me”. He knelt down and grabbed her chin tightly “you're a fuckin slut don't forgot yourself”. The girl looked at him fearfully and nodded.

“Now get out of my room before I get rid of you.” He growled and grabbed another cup,he sighed heavily and looked at his injured hand, he missed his queen... her care... her love... her warmth.

When the girl left his room, he dressed again he decided to go to his wife's rooms.It's too much. A month had already passed It was difficult for her, he knew that, but she had to move on now she has to take care of herself... him... the rest of their children.

He took a deep breath and grab the door handle, Aegon opened the door slowly and looked around the room, she was the first thing his eyes focused on.

Her head was resting on the window and her back was facing him. She didn't even bother turning around to see him, She was staring outside mindless.

He slowly walked towards her he was trying to think of something to say but he couldn't, He tapped her shoulder gently, His lips finally moved “ Darling-”. She interrupted him coldly “Leave”.

He can't help but raise his eyebrows, his lips curl into a frown, and his mood turns sour “What? That's what you're trying to say? ”.

“Leave me alone Aegon I have no energy to argue with you”. She turned around and met him with cold eyes and a lifeless facial expression, “I’M YOUR DAMN HUSBAND! HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?? ”.

She sighed in frustration and looked at him with a tired look “And what do you want now?”. He frowned and grabbed her shoulders from the two sides “I want my wife,my queen, my candle in the dark, my balm for my wounds, the woman I married, the reason I believe in fate.. ”

She pushed his hands away and then turned around “She's died”.

“Died? what do you mean? I know she's still here somewhere,you are not her, I want her, bring me my wife”. He responded, as he grabbed her shoulder so hard that she felt his nails digging into her skin then he turned her towards him and looked into her eyes deeply.

“Just Leave.. please”. She broke eye contact and then he grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him, “I’m not leaving till I get what I want”.

She can't take it anymore her tears fall “How can you be so selfish! You make me feel disgusting! You make me hate you!”. Her words fell like poison onto his body,He felt like he received a painful slap on his face.

He let go of her arm for a moment to process her words..

“I can't believe you're saying this to me.. to me?Am I not your love? not your husband? not the father of your children? ”.

"I-

“ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION! ”

She looks at him with a teary eyes, unable to speak “I- I-”. Her lips were trembling violently and she was unable to speak coherent words, Her tongue was heavy on her, she felt that all the words had disappeared..

“Aegon- ”. When she says his name that way, he immediately feels guilty for yelling at her so he comes closer and hugs her tightly to his chest, He gently stroked her hair as she sobbed into his chest like a baby, she was very weak and fragile..

She stayed in his arms for a short while until her eyelids grew heavy and she fell asleep on his chest, He slowly got up and picked her up and placed her on her bed, He kissed her forehead and covered her with the blanket,when he tried to walk away she grabbed his hand.

As if she was asking him not to abandon her even while she was sleeping, he smiles then crawls under the covers and hugs her to his chest again.. he kept stroking her hair until he fell asleep with her.

♡ – 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @fragileheartbeats @darylandbethfanforever9 @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon headcanons #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon the second #aegon fanfic #hotd aegon #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x you #aegon targaryen #tom glynn carney x reader #tom glynn carney #house of dragons #hotd s2 #hotd2 #team green #aegon imagine

[floatyflowers]

Dark Male! Rhaenyra Targaryen x Cousin Reader

You are the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, making you the beloved cousin of the realm's delight, Rhaeger Targaryen.

There is no lie that the crown prince is enamored with you, and it is clearly shown everytime you visit Kingslanding.

You two would spend long periods together, flying on your dragons, mocking the ladies and lords of the court while eating lemon cakes.

Indeed, no one can deny the prince's infatuation with you.

Everything was going well, until your aunt Aemma died during childbirth, and your father got exiled.

Not only that but Rhaeger's father remarried to Lady Alicent Hightower, a girl, Rhaeger considered a dear friend.

Also your mother was found dead, it is said that Lady Royce fall off of her horse.

You ended up inheriting Runestone afterwards.

When the time came to marry, Rhaeger was forced to marry from House Velaryon for alliances, completely denied your hand in marriage.

However, his lady wife was unable to bear him children nor was she interested in him as her preferences lie with the same sex.

Rhaeger felt hopeless and bitter with everyone and everything, his succession to the throne is threatened until Daemon who returned back from his war at Stepstones.

His uncle suggests that he has children from another woman and passes them off as his and his lady wife's children.

Little did Daemon know, that the younger Targaryen prince would choose you to be the mother of his children.

Rhaeger's wife agreed to his plan, but you were hesitant at first.

"Please (Y/n), there is no one I can entrust with such a task except for you, dear cousin"

However, Rhaeger managed to convince you in the end by guilt-tripping you, agreeing to only give him a son.

But, you ended up giving him three sons.

Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey.

All three ended up inheriting your appearance, dark hair with purple eyes.

All are loved by their father, especially Lucerys who inherited your soft attitude.

Of course, rumors spiraled around the court about your children's legitimacy every time you visited.

Which made you decide to stop visiting, and continue residing at Runestone as its Lady even if staying away from your children hurt you.

Nevertheless, your departure didn't last for long as Rhaeger's wife 'dies'

Rhaeger rushes to Runestone, proposing that you both get married and return with him to Dragonstone where you two could raise your children in peace.

"Rhaeger... That's a wonderful proposal, I love our children truly, yet I only see you as a friend whom I helped in a time of need"

Yeah, the Targaryen prince didn't take kindly to your words.

Which resulted in him kidnapping you and marrying you against your will in the traditions of your house with your sons, Jace and Luke as witnesses.

#tw: toxic relationships #yandere house of the dragon #rhaenyra x reader #Genderbend Rhaenyra #house of the dragon #reader insert #lucerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #mother reader

[superbat-lmao]

Damian Wayne stuck in a time loop.

It resets when someone dies, and since Damian is the youngest, it doesn’t matter how rocky his relationship is with the bat-siblings, each and everyone one of them sacrifices themselves for him.

And Damian is pissed off because he doesn’t understand why.

Grayson is obvious, he has made it clear that he feels affection for Damian and has made the most effort into integrating him into the family. Of course he would die for his little brother. And at first, Damian believes he finds this outcome to be the least acceptable.

There is also his Father, again, a logical expression of love. Damian can understand why his Father would die for him, even if he doesn’t want him to. Even if, in the first few loops, he wishes that anyone else would die instead. At least it’s a type of parental relationship he can understand in the abstract, even if it surprises him to see its true about himself. That even though he has several older brothers and is unsure of his place by his Father’s side, the man would do anything to protect him. It reminds him of his Mother, even though he’s sure if she were here she’d find a way for the both of them to live.

Brown is the first one to surprise him. They had worked together when Grayson was Batman and he recognized her competence, but he thought that’s all it was. A working relationship between professionals. A mutal, if grudging respect. He is shocked when she dies, how he had no clue she would go that far for him. How he refuses to let it happen again.

If Brown was a surprise, Cain was a shock. Damian thought of her as nigh invincible, unable to be touched. It was clear she was the best of all of them, that she had seen the hit miles ahead of him, had maybe even seen him brace for it. But she had chosen to let herself go down. He feels every bit his age as he begins to wonder if he’s even more powerless to stop this than he thought if his most competent sister chose to let herself fall.

Thomas was confusing. He was new, newer than Damian and not quite sure of himself. They rarely saw each other aside from school due to the mismatch in schedules. Thomas gave him a wide berth, respecting Damian’s space in a way his other siblings failed to do or intentionally disregarded. Damian didn’t think much of him. Couldn’t understand how Thomas hadn’t even paused, had taken the hit as if it was an unquestionable law of the universe. As if they were really brothers and not strangers. It was a sentiment Damian didn’t know how to return.

Todd was the worst. He had seen him, briefly, before he had come to Gotham from the league. His Mother spoke of him rarely, but with pride. He was skilled, if untamed. He avoided the manor and his brothers and their Father. The only one he usually sought was Pennyworth. That is why Todd was the worst. Because he avoided all of them. Because this family had already allowed him to die before and he had come back wrong. A painful reminder that their family has failed. And he fought so hard to remind them all of that failure, every way he chose to keep fighting to live, to prioritize his own life over their Father’s morality. Only to throw it away for Damian. To force him to watch how his brother’s second death shattered their Father and Pennyworth and Grayson in a way that Damian didn’t think they’d survive a second time.

Drake is incomprehensible. Antithetical. A cosmic error. Impossible. There is no love between them, no grudging respect, nothing. Damian can’t stand to look at the person who he feels is a disgrace to the costume Damian now wears. He is the one who dies for Damian the most. The one he can’t possibly understand. The brother he has the least time to question, who gives him the least answers as to his motivations. Who will both die for Damian and refuse to utter a word to him in the same loop. It is madness. Damian needs to prove himself above this embarrassment, and yet Drake chooses to be beneath him. To die for him. It is in spite of Damian’s skill that Drake dies, and Damian hates him for it.

#batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #redhood #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #robin #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #signal dc #black bat #spoiler #batgirl #red robin #nightwing #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #i don’t know how to end this #i like the idea that damian comes out of this without a 180 degree personality change #but also it would be funny af if he suddenly hugged all his siblings one day #after the loop breaks #if he just declared that he loved them all or something #but at the same time i honestly think that tim is the one who gets them out of the loop #that damian is forced to work with him #to acknowledge him and his abilities and the fact that their brothers #also damian is a 10 year old child and idfk how he’s supposed to cope with watching his whole family die and then go about the next day #like nothing happened i think it would scare the hell out of the batfam

[eisdendrobium]

mind over matter.

pairings : singer!scaramouche x reader summary : in which scaramouche had to choose his career over you. part 2 here!

the lights dimmed as the bass and drums starts playing, scaramouche stands in the center while holding his mic, eyes casting downwards as he prepare himself to sing the lyrics.

Mind over matter Does it matter to any of us?

scaramouche could feel all eyes on him as he sang the first part, his hand shakes a little from stage fright that suddenly surface.

Don't change the subject I'm heavy on your love I missed that train New York City, it rains

he remember how hard it was to leave, how hard it was for him to choose his career over you. Fly to East L.A. in big jet planes You know you're on my mind?

he wonders, what do you think of him after he left you?

And if the world don't break I'll be shaking it

he wonders, do you know that you're not the only one suffering from this outcome? 'Cause I'm a young man after all And when the seasons change Will you stand by me? 'Cause I'm a young man built to fall

the audience lifts their phone, lighting their flash as they sing along with him. looking up to see his fans he holds the urge to tear up as the memory of you clouds his mind.

Mind over matter I'm in tatters thinking 'bout her

will you take him back after he left you that day? Taste my disaster It's heavy on my tongue

will you believe him if he told you that he still love you after all these years apart? All the lights aglow Tokyo snows

will you believe him if he told you that you're constantly occupying his mind till this day? Go to watch the show Curtain's closed I'm watching you this time

well believe it or not, he still follow your socials because it's the only way he's able to have a connection with you, in a way.

And if the world don't break I'll be shaking it

his eyes scans the crowd and he notice a familiar face. 'Cause I'm a young man after all

he feels his breathing stop as he locked eyes with you. And when the seasons change Will you stand by me? 'Cause I'm a young man built to fall

truth is, you've always supported him anonymously. Always adoring the way he thrive for that dream of his.

New York City, it rains Fly to East L.A. In big jet planes You know you're on my mind?

scaramouche really want to alter his gaze elsewhere but he finds himself unable to do so. As it felt like the missing part in his heart is filled when he sees you -- among the huge crowd, raising your flash at him. All the lights aglow Tokyo snows

he feels warm, he felt peace, the stage fright disappear as he tighten his grip on the mic.

Go to watch the show Curtain's closed I'm watching you this time

he could see your eyes widened when he notices you and that made his anxiety rise.

are you going to leave the concert, just like how he left you that night?

And if the world don't break I'll be shaking it 'Cause I'm a young man after all

he raise his arm towards you as he sang the lyrics. He could see the uncertainty on your face and that made him wonder why you came here in the first place.

And when the seasons change Will you stand by me (Fly to East L.A.)

he knew he have to let you go, and so do you. yet can you really? when your bond with him is that strong, can he really? when most of the song he wrote was about you.

And when the seasons change Will you stand by me? 'Cause I'm a young man built to fall

scaramouche lower his head as the band did an outro. and he could hear the crowd clapping and cheering for his amazing performance.

scaramouche finally understand that you were never meant to be his, he's not the right man for you.

he understood how you must felt during your relationship with him, all the effort he didn't bat an eye to because he was too busy chasing his dream.

you gave him all your love yet all he gave you was his goodbye.

scaramouche wished he realizes what he had when you were still his. yet he have made his decision and he's successful now,

no regrets right?

a/n : reblogs are greatly appreciated! and please feel free to comment what you think about this fic ^^

#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche angst #genshin angst #genshin impact #genshin x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #eisdendrobium #scaramouche fluff #mind over matter #scaramouche au #singer au #singer

[silvergreenseraphim]

Vincent and Sephiroth in Rebirth

(This is my first Rebirth observation. This post is tagged with spoilers.)

Unfortunately, I cannot play this game myself yet, but I have been watching chapter by chapter. This is the Vincent sidequest in the Shinra Manor where they investigate the source of a mysterious singing on the lower levels.

If anyone can find the Japanese version of this quest, please let me know—because I do not understand this line from Vincent. What does he mean he has had many opportunities to purge Sephiroth from the world?

Is he referring to his past with being unable to stop Lucrecia? Or is he saying he could have eliminated Sephiroth back when he was just born? That would not make much sense to me. I can’t see Vincent even considering that.

This is why I need the Japanese line. This statement is confusing.

A reference to Lucrecia here.

An entire lower level of the Shinra Manor has been revealed. An extra layer of hell where Hojo held combat trials all along. We never knew this until now. This is uncanny.

Again, I need the Japanese because it sounds as if Vincent fully believed that Lucrecia did whatever Hojo told her.

I’m not saying that this is even inaccurate after a certain point, but how much of this could be Vincent’s own love for Lucrecia convincing him that she was completely lacking in agency during the time? He gets upset when Barret implies she was not much better than Hojo.

I think it’s a mix. Based on DOC, Lucrecia was certainly ordered around and abused by Hojo after everything had fallen apart, but she did choose to go along with Jenova Project S. It was more complex than what Vincent may think right now.

At the same time, he knew and loved the true Lucrecia’s heart, so he understands that she was struggling with remorse and fear all the same. Vincent is a very empathetic being and he knows Lucrecia was never as evil as Hojo.

Vincent’s empathy is further shown after they kill the singing monster. He knows the creature was tainted by Hojo and perhaps sang to release stress. Even monsters can have emotions. Of course it sounds absurd to Barret….but….

This is a reflection of how Vincent feels. He himself shares a body with monstrous forces and he still has an empathetic heart. This could be how he feels about Sephiroth as well.

It is important to mention that Vincent’s goal has been changed in Rebirth. He wants to go after Sephiroth instead of Hojo now. Even his desire for revenge has been lessened. Very interesting.

#vincent valentine #sephiroth #lucrecia crescent #hojo #shinra manor #final fantasy 7 #ffvii #ff7 #ffvii rebirth spoilers #ff7 rebirth spoilers #rebirth spoilers #ffvii rebirth #ff7 rebirth

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter five

summary: you and luca finally talk about what happened the night of the ballet -- and finally have a chance to clear the air.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 3k

a/n: let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part four | masterlist | part six

You’ve been avoiding his calls all day. 

After Luca bid you goodnight on Thursday, you’d practically sprinted upstairs and into your apartment, slamming the door behind you while wondering what the hell was wrong with you?

You’re too stubborn for your own good, you think to yourself, recalling the moment – the one where you could’ve kissed him but you didn’t – between you and Luca. You stood there, too paralyzed to make a move, yet unable and unwilling to walk away from him. 

Luca had given you space most of yesterday, save for a text later in the evening, but the fact that today is Saturday, the day he almost always comes into the restaurant, is not lost on you. Instead of dealing with it, you’ve been hyper focused all day, choosing to bury your head in work as you run lunch service with Mathilde, more than grateful that business has run at a steady pace today. 

It’s not until you hit a stop, forced to pause after a few hours in between the lunch and dinner rush, reaches a lull. Your brain is suddenly inundated with too many thoughts: was this it? Had you scared him away forever? Did he think you were a total freak considering you’d practically run away from him after he’d said goodnight?

“So are we going to talk about it?” Mathilde presses you, ripping you out of your thoughts with the sound of her voice. You look her way, noticing that her lips pursed in sheer annoyance at your avoidance mechanisms. 

Your face falls, unable to carry this solo for much longer, letting out a sigh of resignation because you know she’s right. 

You can’t run from this – from your feelings, from Luca – forever. 

“Yeah,” you give in. “Yeah, okay.”

“What the hell happened?” Mathilde hisses as she approaches you. “I mean, he’s gorgeous, he’s cultured… he took you out to the ballet, and you like him!”

“I don’t know,” you huff, disappointedly. “I just-, I think I got too caught up in my head. It’s like one minute I was really jazzed at the idea of being on a date, let alone a date with Luca, and the next I’m just… I don’t know… totally psyching myself out and pushing him away.”

“Merde,” she swears in French this time. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, at least releasing a little of the pent up pressure you’ve been holding onto all day. 

“Babe, I know that holding all of this,” she begins, gesturing wildly towards you, “gives you a certain edge in the kitchen… but I can’t imagine it’s good for you.”

You send her another look – one that says ‘fuck off because I know you’re right’ this time. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mathilde,” you confess, your eyes pleading with her for some advice. 

She turns to you, this time with a much more serious expression as she says, “Luca seems like a really great guy. Maybe you should just tell him all of this.” 

You nod slowly as you process. It’s not that you haven’t thought about it – it’s not like it’s a new concept to you – you were married once, after all. But the idea of being vulnerable like that, showing someone new your whole hand feels really scary. You know it’s the thing you need to do; it’s the kindest, most honest option that you have – and you know that Luca deserves just that: kindness, transparency, the truth. 

As you continue to think it over, the only words that come to you are:

“I told him that I wasn’t in love with him anymore – with Joe. When he asked.”

“Luca?”

“Yeah.”

“It wasn’t a lie. Was it?” Mathilde questions you carefully. 

You share your head, growing more and more certain in your answer. 

“No, of course not. It’s not that. My hesitation has never been about Joe. It’s-, it’s about me…” you explain, finding the right words in the moment. “... about my heart.”

Mathilde places a gentle hand on your shoulder as you share a knowing look as she listens.

“What if I do this? I mean, what if I jump… and it’s a horrible mess… and I ruin a good thing with a really great guy because I’m not ready?” you ask, shining a light on your biggest fears. 

She takes a beat, thinking it over, before crossing her arms over her chest, as the two of you stand side by side, leaning up against a stainless steel prep station. 

“Then you do,” she answers, as if it were that simple. “And you figure out the rest. You’re only human after all.” 

You chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes at Mathilde’s not-so-friendly reminder. 

“Here’s an idea,” she starts back up again, catching your attention as you glance sideways to look at her. “What if you jump? And it’s the best thing you’ve ever done? What if it’s worth it?” 

You take a deep breath, letting her words sink in, letting yourself feel the possibility that this could also be the best thing you’ve ever done too. But before you can say anything in response, Jesper comes back into the kitchen, calling for you. 

“Hate to break up the slumber party, ladies, but can I borrow you for a moment, Chef?” he asks, making it clear that he’s talking to you. You and Mathilde exchange glances as Jesper nods through the open kitchen to where Luca waits for you in the dining room. You open your mouth to say something, but instead, you just nod, murmuring a ‘yeah, of course,’ quick to follow Jesper out of the kitchen. 

It’s impeccable timing, really, you think to yourself, that you were just contemplating the possibility that this could be something you could do. 

You could jump, you remind yourself, if you really wanted to. 

“Hi,” you say, barely above a whisper as soon as you see Luca. 

“Hi,” he smiles warmly in return, causing Jesper to look from you to Luca, then back to you again. 

“I’m just gonna-,” he starts, searching for an excuse. 

Only, he doesn’t have one, so Jesper simply excuses himself before disappearing into the kitchen to find a place where he and Mathilde both can pretend to do something when really eavesdropping. 

Jesper’s abrupt and clumsy exit seems some of the palpable tension, earring a laugh from both you and Luca. 

“I thought-,” he begins as you simultaneously say, “I’ve been meaning to call-.”

“Sorry,” he says with an apologetic half smile. 

“No I’m-. You go first,” you encourage, blushing on a little as the two of you clumsily dance around each other. 

Luca takes a breath, reminding himself that it wouldn’t be this weird if there wasn’t something between the two of you – that he hasn’t been imagining this – not even a little bit. 

“I hope that it’s okay. That I’m here,” he finally says, his voice steady and even. 

“I-, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” you ask him, suddenly insecure about the fact that he felt he needed to ask in the first place. 

“I just-, well I thought ehm, maybe you’d need some space. I didn’t want to ehm, you know… show up here if-, even though it’s Saturday because it is your place and I wouldn’t want-,” Luca tries to explain, stopping and starting again and again. 

“Luca, no I-,” you say, before pausing, swearing to yourself under your breath as you mutter. “Shit. Fuck, I-. Goddamn, you really are fucking perfect.”

“What was that?” Luca asks, only catching the swearing part at the beginning and the ‘fucking perfect’ part at the end. 

“Um…” you trail off, looking around you. 

As you catch Jesper and Mathilde ducking behind a shelf out of the corner of your eye, and a few of your waitstaff hurrying to make it look like they’re busy and not listening in, you realize that you and Luca have managed to earn the attention of some very curious onlookers. 

“Do you want to step outside for a moment?” you ask, gesturing towards the front door. 

“Sure,” he nods, letting you lead him to a spot outside.

You make sure that you're both as out of sight as possible, staying far away from the broad windows that line the front of your restaurant. 

“Hi,” you say again on an exhale.

“Hi,” he says back, simply. 

“I’m glad you came. I know I-... I should’ve called, or- or texted you… after Thursday,” you begin, nervously, eager to own up to the very big part you’ve played in the lack of communication.

“Yes. You should’ve,” he repeats, his eyes catching yours as you nod in confirmation. 

It’s good – that he’s not going to let you off the hook – and while you like it, you like that he has boundaries, you’re disappointed in yourself as you say:

“I’m sorry.”

Luca sighs, shaking his head as he immediately counters with:

“No, I’m sorry. I mean, yes, you should’ve called. Or at least texted. But I should’ve been clear in the first place that Thursday…” he trails off, almost as if he’s mustering up the courage to say what he needs to say. 

“... that Thursday was more to me than our regular excursions. That it was a date. To me at least.”

“Luca-.”

“I wish I would’ve told you – made it clear in the first place – so you knew what you were getting into,” Luca finishes, carefully watching for your reaction. There’s something so honest in the way he goes about this conversation, and you sure as hell feel like you could take the proverbial jump right fucking now. 

“I appreciate that. Really, I do…” you start, before trailing off again. “But I-. This isn’t on you, Luca.”

“How do you mean?” he asks you, his expressive brows knitted together, as if you’d just spoken in tongues. 

Here goes nothing, you think to yourself.

“I-. This has been great. I mean… I really like spending time with you,” you start, anxiously, instantly realizing that it sounds like you’re breaking up with him. “Fuck, I-.” 

You let out a frustrated groan as it seems you’re having an impossible time getting out what you need to get out. You take a breath. And a beat, before continuing. 

“And I’ve really liked this… hanging out, getting to know you… borrowing your books. I-, I just… we’ve got such a good thing going and I really don’t want to fuck this up, you know?”

He sighs your name this time, looking down for a moment as you add:

“I’m-, I’m afraid that… I’m going to fuck this up.”

“Yeah. I know,” he answers, heavily. “I-, I am too.”

“And then Thursday night, things were so, so good, and I-, I panicked and I feel terrible because… you don’t deserve that. You don’t.”

Luca takes a beat as he listens. He’s not sure what exactly that means, but he reminds himself to stay on track, stay the course and make sure that he says what he came here to say to you. 

“It’s alright,” he reassures you, softly, taking a step towards you. “I don’t want you to feel like… like you have to feel a certain way just because I-.”

“No, that’s not it! That’s not-, that’s really not the problem,” you interject as you struggle to explain yourself, unsure of where to even begin. You take a step towards him this time too, your voice softening as you continue. “Luca, I don’t feel obligated to feel… any kind of way just because you-.”

“Because I?” he questions you.

The silence his questions leaves goes on a few beats longer than you expected, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to fill in the blank. 

“Well, I don’t know,” you pause, a shocked look on your face as one of you waits for the other.

“You didn’t-, I never let you finish your sentence so,” you ramble aimlessly, immediately bursting out into a fit of laughter as you realize that neither of you are getting anywhere. 

Luca laughs too, joining in on the much needed reprieve. 

The two of you exchange glances, and one more shared laugh, before settling in once again. 

With a crooked smile spread across his lips, Luca can take a hint, realizing that he may need to take the lead on this one.

The way your name sounds on his lips is so heavenly, so divine, so soft that you know you’ve got it bad, as you scramble for a way to tell him everything that you’ve been feeling. 

“May I?” he asks, in reference to taking the lead. 

“Please.”

“I just came here to tell you… I want to tell you…” he corrects himself, taking a step towards you. 

“... that I really like you. I really like spending time with you. I like that you get me out of the kitchen in search of something different. And I think that your mind, even though incredibly neurotic, is absolutely brilliant. And if what you need is for us to be friends right now, I want that. We can… slow all of this down. All you’ve got to do is talk to me.”

It feels like time fucking stops, and the world goes black and white for a moment, then full color all at once as you hear the words coming out of his mouth. Your revelation comes rushing in, clear as day – that this man cares so deeply for you and that maybe, your heart could be safe with him. Unsure of how to deal with the grace and compassion Luca is showing you, you’re only left with one question, as it falls from your lips like a boulder. 

“How?”

“What?”

“How do you always have the right thing to say…” you ask him, your voice caught in your throat as you finish your question.  “... when I only have the wrong things to say?”

Luca opens his mouth to say something you’ll never hear, as you choose to completely throw caution to the wind. 

Perhaps the question was rhetorical anyways. 

You’re not sure what’s coms over you, but instead of words, you only have actions left, and the only thing that will remedy the situation is to do the thing that you’ve been panicking over doing since Luca showed you into the pastry room at AOC. You charge forward, reaching out for him, and he’s right there with you, meeting you halfway as you eagerly press your lips to his. 

You can feel all the blood in your body rush through you as your lips connect. Your heart flutters. Your head spins. It’s the kind of kiss that people write sonnets about – write love songs about. It’s almost three months of simmering tension, finally allowed to reach its boiling point. You pull away, just for a moment, uttering out a breathless:

“Holy shit.”

Luca laughs with a shake of his head as he agrees with a, “Yeah.”

You exchange a look, and a laugh, before kissing him again. 

And this time the kiss is a hello, it’s a new beginning, it’s a ‘thank god I met you.’

This time, Luca pulls away, reluctantly releasing you as he does. 

“It’s not that I don’t like this,” he begins, using all of his restraint to put this on pause. “I really, really do, but… I’m kind of getting mixed signals here.”

“No, no, I know,” you apologize, turning as you hear your name called, swearing under your breath again as soon as you see Mathilde peeking her head out of the front door. 

“Oh… my God! I am so sorry, I’ll just-, except for we need you to-, she calls after you, stumbling over her words as soon as she realizes what’s going on between you and Luca. 

“Nevermind it can wait!” Jesper exclaims, poking his head out of the front door as well, before dragging Mathilde back into the restaurant.

You and Luca exchange another laugh. 

“They’re… something,” you chuckle, with a shake of your head. 

“Good wingmen,” Luca adds, mirroring your previous exchange with his coworker. 

Returning his focus to you, Luca shakes his head incredulously, considering this is not the way he thought this conversation would go. He grins as he takes you in, but knows that this is time limited. He’d noticed the curious staff of your restaurant that he’s come to know and love doing their best to pretend they weren’t listening in on your conversation earlier. They know exactly what’s going on here, so if they felt the need to interrupt, Luca knows that you’re most likely needed back in the kitchen. 

He shifts his weight in between both of his feet, taking a small step back as he states:

“We’re gonna have to talk about this.”

“Yes,” you agree, your declaration certain.

“But right now you have to go,” Luca continues. 

“Right now I have to go,” you echo as confirmation. “Later. I promise. We’ll talk. Tonight?”

“Yeah ehm. Not to be… presumptuous. But my place is closeby. We could… perhaps talk. Tonight. There?” Luca suggests, trying to downplay the fact that it sounds like he’s asking you to come over for a booty call. 

It’s certainly not his intention, considering he’d just offered to slow things down, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. 

“Yeah. I’ll text you,” you agree, suddenly nervous again. “When I’m done here. If you’re still up.”

“It’s a date,” Luca agrees, deciding to move in towards you again.

You nod, taking another step towards him so that you can kiss him again. 

“Oh, and Luca?”

He hums in response, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips because he really can’t wait to kiss you again either. . 

“I should be-. I want to be clear,” you begin, deciding to be brave in this moment. 

He raises an eyebrow. 

“I really like you too,” you say, before standing tall on your tiptoes, and pulling him down to you for, this time, a see-you-later kiss. 

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

a/n: ummm hi how are we doing is everyone doing ok?!

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

[shadowdaddies]

Hi, love your writing. Could you write something with either Lucien or Ruhn with a reader who is always told she talks to much? Like when she gets happy or excited she tends to ramble and people usually get annoyed at her and tell her to shut up and she slowly stops talking at all and Lucien or Ruhn see that and try to get her to come out of her shell again and always listen to what she has to say?

I needed to write this today, I really relate and I'm having a hard time. If you ever want someone to talk to, my messages are open💜 and omg do you know how hard it was to choose between Lucien and Ruhn?😩 ugh anon your ideas are too good! I went with Lucien only because I haven't written for him yet and I think he's perfect for this but if you have a Ruhn request I'm HERE💜

Use Your Words

Lucien x Reader hurt/comfort

Warnings: this got very suggestive towards the end, I have learned I am very susceptible to the Vanserra rizz

You barely made it through the front door before a sob ripped through you, slinking to the ground as you sunk against the wall. Your throat was in knots, chest heavy as your thoughts eddied deeper and darker. 

Growing up, you had always been told you were too loud, too open, too much. Even now, it took courage for you to reach out to people, to not let your insecurities get in the way of connecting with others. Tonight you felt comfortable, thinking that the females in court accepted you, but the moment that you opened up - shared too much - they gave you the same judgmental looks that had become ingrained in your mind.

It was easier to retreat into yourself, better to not say anything than to bear the rejection that inevitably followed you through your life. When Lucien arrived home, he found you crumpled into the sofa, adorned in your softest robe as you stared blankly at the fire.

“My love, you look ethereal glowing against the light of the fire,” Lucien murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. He lifted your head, settling underneath you as a makeshift pillow while he stroked your hair. “How was your evening, beautiful?”

You couldn’t help how your face crumpled at his question, lip quivering as the tears leaked from your eyes. You buried your head in his lap, shaking your head as you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. 

“Hey, I’ve got you, love,” Lucien whispered, lifting you up into his lap, cradling his in his strong arms. A long time passed as he held you, letting the emotions pour out of you, paying no mind to the tears that stained his shirt. 

When you were ready, you lifted your head to rest against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat calming. “I’m not good with words like you, Lucien. I wish people found me charming and interesting, but it’s like I say too much and they lose interest. I don’t know how to do anything right, Luc. No matter how hard I try, it’s not enough, and it’s too much,” you cried into his shoulder. 

Looping your arms around his neck, you held him close as though he might disappear if you let go. “I’m sorry, that was a lot. I didn’t mean to say too much, I just keep talking,” you rambled, unable to stop but desperate to share your feelings. 

Lucien held you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your hair before broad hands found your cheeks. “My love, you are not too much. I could never have enough of you. Your words are like the flowers that fill the meadow outside. They are many, and together they create something so breathtaking, I don’t know how I ever lived without you.”

His lips lowered to your neck, long red hair sliding against the skin of your chest. Fingers threading through his soft hair, you tilted your head back, welcoming the affections he was bestowing upon you. 

Pressing a kiss below your ear, Lucien’s warm breath tickled your skin as he spoke. “I want to know everything that goes through this beautiful mind,” he murmured, teeth grazing your neck as he continued peppering kisses to any exposed skin he could find.

You whimpered, rolling your hips against his in a silent request for more. Lucien pulled back, a feline smirk on his lips as his eyes glowed in the firelight. With a tsk, he tilted your chin towards him. “I want to hear everything that you want tonight. I want you to use your words, to hear every beautiful noise that comes from your mouth as I show you how incredible you are. Understood?” He punctuated his question by tugging your bottom lip with his teeth, and you nodded furiously. 

“Yes, Lucien. Please touch me,” you breathed.

“Good girl,” he grinned, tossing you over his shoulder as he carried you to your bedroom.

banners by saradika

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien fluff #lucien angst #lucien vandaddy #lucien x reader fluff #lucien x reader angst #lucien x you #lucien x y/n #acotar fluff #acotar angst #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic

[nwjws]

while you were sleeping - pjs

; PAIRING - jay x gn!reader

; SYNOPSIS - in which you’ve had the same album on repeat, unable to get it out of your mind. just like how jay, your roommate, can’t seem to get you out of his.

; WC - 1.4k (minus the lyrics)

; TAGS - college roommates au, fluff, from jay's pov, based off laufey's 'while you were sleeping' ; WARNINGS - not proofread

i still can't believe that you noticed me

mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you patiently wait for your roommate, park jay, to finish cooking up some breakfast. a comfortable silence has settled between you two, with the only sounds being the sizzling oil on the pan and your humming.

"you've been listening to the same 14 songs for the past week."

"what?" you ask, looking up at him. you stare at his back, broad shoulders exposed by his tank top.

he turns his head to look back at you over his shoulder, raising a perfect eyebrow. you realise then what he's saying.

laufey had released a new album last week, and you literally haven't played any other song outside of it since it dropped. you can feel jay judging you, but you just shrug at him. you were definitely not stopping.

"so what if i've had bewitched on repeat? can you deny that they're good?" you challenged him.

"no, of course not," he chuckled to himself, turning back to the pan. "i'm just surprised you haven't gotten sick of it yet."

"i would never get sick of laufey," you say with mock offence.

"alright, then," he said with a teasing undertone.

you wanted to retort, but he placed a plate in front of you, making you forget what you were going to say.

"hey, you have a later clinical today, right?" he asked as you two dug in.

"mhm."

"take the box i left in the fridge with you before you go then. its some extra lunch i made so you'd have enough energy to get through the day."

"thank you," you say appreciatively. "you really don't have to do that every time i have a heavier day."

"well, if i have time to, then i don't see why i shouldn't."

"what about you? what are you doing today?"

"my professor cancelled class today, so i'll go check out if i can bother heeseung or jake."

"i'll pray for whichever victim you choose, then," you joke.

"maybe i won't make you extra lunch next time," he pouted playfully.

"no, no. those actually really help me. god knows if i didn't score you as my roommate, i would have passed out several times by now."

"grateful to be of service"

after breakfast, jay lounges around the apartment as you're getting ready. some show plays on the tv, but it doesn't drown out the sound of must be love playing from your speakers.

you shout your leaving when you exit the shared apartment, and jay wishes you a good day. he watches you close the door, leaving him completely alone.

i'll never forget the first time i saw you then

when he drives to the shopping centre with jake later that day, he pauses mid-sentence when he realises something.

"is everything good?" his friend asks.

"yeah, i just recognised the song playing."

"really? you listen to from the start by laufey?" jake asks. he had decided to connect his phone to jay's carplay, and had been in the one in control of the playlist.

"not really, but my roommate does."

"y/n? that's pretty cool. they've got good music taste," he replies.

"they've had her newest album on repeat since she dropped it," jay laughs, eyes on the road.

"do you find that annoying?"

"of course not, it's funny seeing them prance around the apartment, belting their heart out," he laughs at a memory of you singing at the top of your lungs. "i guess i'm more of a second-hand listener now? if that's even a thing."

"probably," jake shrugs.

a light pink bouquet, a promise you'll stay and i start to believe

the two had decided to eat out at wagamama's first, before anything else.

"i think i'll get the pad thai," tells the waitor, who nods and notes it on his ipad.

"hm, i'm feeling like trying the grilled chicken ramen," jay says. "oh, could i also get the miso mixed vegetable salad to-go?"

"sure," the waitor replies. he pockets the small device in his apron, and leaves for the kitchen.

"you ordered another meal?" the younger asks curiously.

"me and y/n go here often. of course, i had to get them something. usually, they'll go for the typical miso salad, or some curry, but they've decided they wanted to try being vegan recently. so i got the vegan one," jay explains nonchalantly.

"wow, you really care a lot about them, huh?"

"of course, we're sharing the rent, after all. have to be a good roommate, otherwise they'll leave and i'll have to pay the bills on my own."

"maybe i should get a roommate," jake chuckles. "but i don't think i'd be able to get someone like you."

"i'd feel sorry for whoever ends up with you," jay teases him. "and anyway, they're a good roommate. they do the laundry for the both of us, and we usually spend the weekends cleaning together."

"you guys are so lucky," is all jake says.

i don't recognise myself ; who've i become?

jake dragged jay into their third clothing shop that day, despite jay's protests. in self-defence, jake whines about needing some new shoes.

"don't you have like, thirty pairs? what could you possibly need another one for?"

"actually, i only have twenty-eight. and i need one for graduation, of course."

"right, because none of your almost-thirty pairs suffice," jay rolls his eyes.

"don't act like you dont have seventy pairs of the same polo shirt."

"i don't!"

"i've seen your closet, don't lie to me."

jay sighs and leaves jake to wander around the shop on his own.

"there you go again, buying another shirt," jake's voice sighs from behind jay fifteen minutes later.

"not for me," jay shakes his head. he turns to show the clothing piece to his friend. "for y/n. this is definitely their style, and it'll fit them so well. they have a pair of shoes that are this exact colour, so it would be good outfit if they sandwhich it with any bottom piece they choose."

"you think a lot about your roommate," jake raises his eyebrow at him.

"i see them all the time, why wouldn't i?" jay asks.

"no, like, you think too much about y/n considering you're 'only roommates'," he says with a quote gesture.

"stop suggesting weird things," jay walks ahead to the counter, leaving jake to follow behind.

"is it really so weird, though? if you like y/n like that?"

jay just ignores him, and pays for the shirt. it's not, he thinks to himself, because it's not a new thought either.

i trace it all back, 3:30 am that night something turned in my heart

"thank you, jay," you hug him when he shows you what he got. "you really need to stop buying me things."

"i can't help it," he smiles. "when i see something that reminds me of you, i just feel like i have to get it."

"with how often you buy me things, i'd say a lot of things remind you of me, huh?"

"seems like it..." he scratches his nape, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with you. thanks jake, he scowls in his mind. now he can't stop thinking about what he said earlier.

you and jay decide to watch a movie the next night, since it was a friday, and neither of you had to be up early the next day.

but jay couldn't focus on the tv when you two were basically cuddling under the shared blanket on the sofa. his skin prickled where his arm hung around your shoulder, and the weight of your head on his made him feel light and airy.

the warmth of your body seeped through your clothes, and brought him immense comfort. your sweet scent filled his nose, subconsciously recognising it to be one of the perfumes he'd bought you.

it was only when the movie ended he realised he hadn't been watching at all. and neither were you, if your light snores were any indication.

he huffed amusedly to himself, and shifted on the sofa to get you two in a more comfortable position, actually lying down. reaching for the remote, he carefully switched off the tv, leaving the only source of light to be a soft, warm yellow coming from a corner lamp.

jay stared at your features, illuminated by the dim light. he realised right then, in the comfort of your arms, far into the night, what he felt for you.

while you were sleeping, i fell in love.

; AUTHOR'S CORNER! do u guys ever feel like throwing up at your own work? ALSO THANK YOU FOR 200 this is my offer of thanks 🤭

; TAGLIST - @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ mi's works #kflixnet #k-labels #k-films #enhypen #enhypen jay #enhypen drabbles #park jongseong #park jay #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #jay x yn #jay drabbles #jongseong drabbles #jay fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #jay imagines #enhypen imagines

[eitaababe]

Hiiii can i make a request for a possessive neteyam 🥹 i need one where he x reader argue, and he says something hurtful because he’s jealous and reader goes to leave the hut to cool off because she’s hurt but he makes it up to her ;) WINK WINK maybe a little touch of a begging neteyam as well hehe

Dirty filthy nasty talk as well sorry I’m done now LMAO

SOMEONE ELSE !

a/n — hi love! sorry i don't really feel comfortable writing smut with neteyam (or anyone lmao) just yet 😭 so i just made it a lil suggestive at the end i hope that's ok!! / also since the end is suggestive and implied to lead to something neteyam's aged up cause he's a minor and that would be awk🧍‍♂️

—

To say you and Neteyam were inseparable was practically an understatement. Ever since you'd met as kids, you always stuck together. You were there for each other when you got your ikrans, even, and you'd always go on rides together. A dynamic duo, people liked to call you.

So of course, when his family left the clan for the safety of everyone, you couldn't just let your mate leave you. So with some convincing and promising that the Sully's would take you in as their own, your parents reluctantly agreed, deciding you could choose your own future.

Though you missed the forrest, being by the ocean was something you'd never experienced before, and it was one of the most beautiful sights you've ever seen. There were so many creatures and the people were different in many ways, you were excited to learn about everything.

However, you grew less and less thrilled when you realized the time you spent with Neteyam would diminish to very little. He was always out and about, getting to ride his ilu and protecting his siblings from those in the village who looked down upon them. He was always so stressed, so tired, that when you did hang out, you always felt like a burden, or an argument would start.

So you started to keep your distance, and as a result, met new people and made new friends. You started to enjoy the presence of a boy named Rotxo, who was allegedly one of Ao'nung's friends. You were skeptic at first, not hearing so good things about his friend, but the more you got to know him, he became a trustworthy friend. He heard all about your struggles with Neteyam, always a good listener and giving good advice.

Although, Neteyam didn't see you and Rotxo's relarionship as anything friendly. In fact, whenever he spotted you two, he could be sulking for the rest of the day. Granted, it was his fault you two haven't been talking as much, and he could probably just have talked to you about it. But he didn't know how, and as a result, you'd found another person to fill his company.

Was he really that easy to replace?

Finally having enough, Neteyam wordlessly grabbed your arm, dragging you away mid-conversation with Rotxo. He ignored your protests and took to a secluded area, stopping only to be met with a harsh glare.

"What the hell, Neteyam?" You shouted, crossing your arms. Yikes. He didn't think that one through. "What's your problem? I was talking to him!"

"Well maybe I don't want you talking to him!"

"Why?" You inquired, annoyed at his antics. "You don't get to decide who I can and can't talk to. I'm my own person. Plus he's my friend. And he's been better company than you, as of late."

His heart dropped at the blow, knowing you were right. "It just makes me uncomfortable, okay? I don't like him being close to you."

"Oh, you don't like someone else enjoying my company? Sorry Neteyam, but I'm not going to wait around alone and close myself off from everyone else just because you refuse to talk to me! I happen to enjoy talking to Rotxo, and there's nothing you can do that will stop me."

"Fine then," he snapped, jealousy overcoming him. "Go! Go be with Rotxo. See if I care," he paused, sinking his fingers into the palms of his fists and unable to stop himself from digging an even bigger whole. "I have others who want my company. There's many metkayina women who would enjoy my presence."

Offended that he would say such a thing, you scoffed, not recognizing the man standing in front of you. "Fine then! Go be with another woman!"

"I will!" He responded without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the look on your face.

"I never want to see you again." You seethed, eyes glossy as you walked hastily away from him, leaving a regretful Neteyam.

The days that passed by all felt like a blur, your heart throbbing. Did he really mean that? Was he tired of you? Were you making a mistake when you decided to follow him and his family? Rotxo listened to all your worries, comforting you and helping you avoid Neteyam at all costs.

He kept looking for you, wanting a chance to apologize. He wishes he had just kept his mouth shut, or went after you once you walked away. The scene replayed in his head constantly, thinking of what he could've done different to make you not hate him.

So he waited until after eclipse, and when everyone else went to bed, he went out to the beach, knowing you would be there. You always enjoyed the solitude of nighttime, when nobody else was awake and you could watch the waves peacefully on your own.

Neteyam slowly made his way up to you, awkwardly clearing his throat to grab your attention. When you actually turned around and focused on him he was shocked, wide eyed and speechless. "Um, hi."

"Hi." you curtly responded, ready to leave when he grabbed your hand.

"Please, y/n. I want to apologize." He pleaded.

You gave him a look, as if saying to get on with it. He hesitated, not completely sure what to say. "I'm...i'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Any of it. I was jealous that you were spending more time with Rotxo."

You stayed silent still, making him nervous. "And I don't want another woman," he added, looking you dead in the eye. "I wouldn't dream of it. You are the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. You are kind, sweet, loyal, and have been nothing but the best for me. I took that for granted, so when I saw you enjoying the company of another, it pissed me off. I cannot stand the thought of you being with someone who isn't me." he stopped, and you noticed his eyes starting to glimmer in the moonlight.

"I'm sorry. Truly. And if you don't forgive me I understand." Neteyam finally finished, his chest rising up and down shakily.

"Oh, ma Neteyam," you cooed, taking his face in your hands. You wiped away the tears that fell down his face with your thumbs, kissing where they fell. "I could never want anyone other than you. I just need you to talk to me next time, okay? No more keeping your problems from me. I'm here to help you with your burdens, not hide them."

The boy nodded wordlessly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "I promise, my love. I will never make you feel like I want someone else again."

He then trailed kisses down your jaw, lips softly moving over the skin of your neck. His teeth grazed over it, biting lightly. He chuckled from the soft sound that left your throat, kisses drifting down below your neck. He pressed you against a tree, knee separating your legs.

"Neteyam, not here." You breathed out, not making any attempt to stop him. But, you really didn't want to get caught by anyone in a public area like this.

"Shh, my love," he soothed, hands wafting towards your loincloth. "I'm gonna make it up to you, okay?"

Oh, you were in for a long night.

—

a/n — i literally had no idea how to write the ending i'm sorry if it's bad 🧍‍♂️

#avatar x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #neteyam #neteyam angst #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x reader #avatar fluff #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #— requests ! #— answered

[dawneternal]

The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | one

☁︎ summary: The Lady of Autumn hires a healer behind Beron's back. Sworn to secrecy, the healer helps Eris when he is punished by his father and forbidden to see a healer from their court. Eris did not expect to find himself growing attached. He comes to realize that he may know plenty about sacrifice, but he has a lot to learn about choosing to live for the ones you love.

☁︎ notes: let me know how you feel about the order of this chapter. I felt like it didn't read the same to have that last scene at the beginning, but if it's confusing I will change it:)

☁︎ warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood, talk of physical abuse, implied domestic violence

☁︎ word count: 2.8k

☁︎ AO3 Link // Masterlist

“Hurry,” Lady Edana hissed, a sound like pinching a candle flame. It echoed in the quiet, the only sound in the dark hallway.

The silence was so immense it seemed to roar. Every hall and passage was empty and utterly dark. Aya would have thought every court had secrets veiled by this hour between night and morning. But there was no sign of life in the Forest House.

And yet, Lady Edana led the way with a knife in her hand, poised to attack. It was not even a hunting knife or one of the jeweled daggers gifted to young boys of the court. Just a knife, likely stolen from the kitchens or even the dinner table. Aya had to wonder if it was the only weapon Lady Edana had access to.

To her credit, she held it like a fighter, blade pointed down and out so she could still strike if pinned. In her other hand she held her shoes, her stocking feet making no sound as she shuffled across the stone floor. Urgency radiated from her. If it were visible, it would have given her a corona. An aura of flames.

They came to another corner and the Lady tugged Aya against the wall before peering around the corner. She deemed it safe and pulled the healer after her. One last eerie hallway and then they stopped at a large wooden door. Lady Edana fished a chain of keys from its place tucked into her bodice and unlocked the door. It opened without a sound, like the hinges had been oiled or silenced with magic.

The lady snapped and the fae lights came to life in their sconces, revealing the heir of Autumn laying face down on a large bed, bleeding profusely into silk green sheets.

Aya had been warned of his condition but it still sent a jolt through her. He was so still, his red hair stark against pale skin and moss colored bedding. His mother tossed her knife onto the side table and knelt by the bed.

“Eris,” She whispered, her face nearly as pale as his, “Are you awake?”

“Mother,” He croaked. Something in Aya’s chest twisted at the utter brokenness of his voice. It hurt more than looking at the torn up flesh of his back.

“I brought a healer,” She said, beckoning to Aya.

“Mother,” He said again, reprimanding. Pleading.

“I will take care of everything.” She stepped back to let the healer take her place, disappearing into the washroom to fetch water. Eris’s eyes, surprisingly alert, locked onto Aya’s face. They roamed over her features, assessing.

“Worry not,” Aya whispered, unable to resist the urge to brush back a strand of copper hair. She understood the urgency now, as her gaze flickered to the blood pooling around his body.

His eyes softened at her touch, chin trembling like he was a thread away from shattering. So she took her hand away from his forehead, hovering it over his injuries instead. He flinched and she closed her eyes so he would not see the anger in them. The anger at whoever had done this. He needed tenderness and she would give it.

Aya reached into the spring of power within her and willed it to the surface. Willed it to pour from her fingertips into his being and soothe the pain. She urged the bleeding to slow to a stop, for his body to numb enough that she could clean his wounds before the true healing began. She felt his energy begin to pull away, lulled by sleep.

When she opened her eyes she saw that his own had closed, his breathing deep and even.

“You are as talented as the High Lord said,” Lady Edana whispered from beside her. She held a pitcher of water and an arm full of towels.

Aya stared at the mess, wondering where to begin. Even with all her doubts and wariness, she had not pictured an injury this severe when she accepted this position. She had known to expect the sneaking and the secrecy, but not to be led to Eris’s deathbed.

It did not help her uneasiness in the slightest when the lady said, as she mopped up her son’s blood, “Whatever we can’t get clean by morning, just throw into the fireplace. We’ll have to burn it all.”

It was a long moment before Aya said anything. Perhaps it was a risk to ask questions, but Eris’s blood coating her hands felt like justification enough.

“Why?” She murmured, keeping her eyes on the work before her. Lady Edana took her own time answering, lips pursed as she dabbed at the prince’s back.

“The High Lord forbade Eris from seeing a healer. It is part of his punishment.”

“So that is why the job was a secret,” Aya said quietly. They still avoided each other’s gaze.

“Yes.”

“What is the prince being punished for?” Another risky question, but Lady Edana seemed to think her questions were deserved, too. Or maybe she just wanted Aya to understand. From this perspective, dishonesty seemed to be built into the foundation of the Autumn Court.

“He visited the Winter Court without telling his father first. His father wanted to know why. And decided that Eris must be granted permission to leave the court borders.”

Aya clenched her jaw, looking back at the deep wounds on Eris’s back. No doubt from a whip or a belt. They would leave deep scars, and would have easily become infected without a healer. Though that seemed to be what Beron wanted. She decided not to ask what Eris was doing in the Winter Court.

“Beron will be called away first thing in the morning,” The Lady continued, “Not that he would have checked on Eris, anyways. But you will be long gone before he wakes, just in case.”

Aya wondered for a moment how Beron would know that Eris had obeyed his order not to see a healer. And she realized with a sick feeling in her stomach that he had likely left the enforcement of that order to Edana. The entire structure relied on their fear. They would do what he said because they had to, to protect themselves and each other. So what would happen to Lady Edana if Beron knew what she had done? What would happen to Aya?

She looked down at the ring on her forefinger, the blood on it glimmering like a ruby. She wondered how much Thesan had known any of this. It didn’t matter now, anyways, since she was bound to Edana by that golden ring. And looking at Eris, his brows furrowed and skin shining with sweat, she knew it was all for him.

How often was he destroyed this way? Torn apart in mind and body, forbidden from being put back together? Often enough for Aya to be paid a monthly salary. A very handsome one. But perhaps that part truly had been to make sure she wouldn’t change her mind.

As if she had a choice, now.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Upon returning to the Dawn Court, Aya headed straight for the throne room. She did not bother to change first, her clothes still covered in ash and blood. Her whole body was stiff from sleeping on the floor and heavy from how little rest she had managed to get.

The mammoth wooden doors opened before her, revealing Thesan and a few of his councilors lounging near the throne. Their easy laughter rose into the air, dancing with the cool breeze. The open archways of the throne room showed the pastel skies and fluffy clouds around them.

It was such a stark contrast to the last hours of her life, dimly lit and painted in the dark tones of the Autumn Court. It blew a puff of air into the fire burning in her chest.

Thesan’s brows rose as his gaze landed on her, jaw clenched and eyes blazing as she strode through the room.

“How much did you know about this job?” She demanded. The irreverence shook the High Lord more than her appearance. This was the way she spoke to her cousin, and not Thesan the High Lord. And never in front of others.

He asked the councilors for a moment, keeping his eyes on Aya as they scurried away. One dared to flash her a disdainful look and click his tongue. Aya ignored it.

“What was your question?” Thesan asked softly when they were alone.

“You told me this job would require discretion,” She said, her tone cooling a touch, “Did you know why?”

“Lady Edana requested a healer for personal matters,” He took a sip from his goblet, “I did not think it would be polite to inquire about the details.”

Aya shifted on her feet, her rage slowing to a halt. How delicate was this secret? Thesan could always be counted on for his discretion. But surely there were political implications that she didn’t know or understand. There always was, and figuring them out had never been one of her talents.

“Did you not ask the details before you accepted the job?” He pressed. His curiosity about the state of her clothes was rising into anxiety.

“I assumed the details. I thought maybe she was having age-related troubles. Or perhaps an affair.”

“And you were wrong,” Thesan prompted, “You are very troubled by whatever this secret is.”

“Yes,” Aya admitted, her shoulders drooping.

Thesan’s gaze flickered to the ring on her finger. If he was surprised to see it he did not let it show.

“You bound yourself to her?” His voice still smooth, collected.

“She said a physical contract would leave evidence.”

Thesan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not believe Edana to have particularly evil intentions, but she had played Aya like a piece in a game.

“Are you able to tell me this secret?” He sighed.

Aya considered the contract. It seemed that Thesan should be exempt from the secrecy. She would find out if she tried to say it out loud, anyways.

“Beron tortures his son for information,” Aya said, dropping her gaze to the marble floor. The heaviness of her body returned and she resisted the urge to let her wings rest on the ground.

“Lucien?” Thesan tilted his head to the side. He did not seem all that surprised.

“Eris,” She whispered, lifting her eyes to his. She knew he would see how haunted they were. Filled with imagery of her long night.

Thesan pursed his lips, his own eyes sparkling with anger. Many things clicked into place with this new information.

“And that is the secret?” He asked, “Beron mustn't know you heal Eris?”

“Yes,” She felt much smaller now, all of her fury laid out before Thesan, “He forbids him from seeing a healer. But he would have died if I wasn’t there.”

They did not speak of what this meant for Aya. The danger she would be in every time she stepped foot in the Autumn Court. It passed between them without words, the worry forming like storm clouds.

“I think I should speak to her,” Thesan rubbed his chin in thought.

“Please don-” Aya began, rushing forward to plead with him. He held up a hand to stop her.

“Worry not, little bird,” He soothed, “I will make sure you keep your job. I just want you to be safe. Now rest, I can see the weariness in your eyes.”

Her mind was far from settled, whirling with countless thoughts and worries. But Eris was well and her own safety was in Thesan’s hands now. That was enough. So she obeyed, gathering the energy to trudge back to her room and rest.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

“Thesan tells me you are looking for work experience outside of the Dawn Court,” Lady Edana took a sip of her tea, amber eyes locked on the girl in front of her.

The Lady of Autumn had requested to meet with Thesan’s best healer in training. In private, in a quiet place. Thesan did not see a good reason to deny her. And he knew that she worked hard to separate herself from her husband in any manner she could. He’d heard the whispered rumors and seen the bruises hiding just beneath the fine lace of her gowns. If he could help to enable her independence, he would.

“Yes, my Lady,” Aya nodded, resisting the urge to ring her hands, “It is the last requirement I need to complete my training.”

She was proud that Thesan had chosen her as the best of her class, but now she was nervous. Edana had come alone, save for one guard who loomed off to the side of the balcony. His eyes were fixed on the glass doors behind them, but Aya had no doubt he had been listening to the entire conversation. Which, up until then, had been all pleasantries and small talk. But now the Lady’s eyes were narrowed, her focus sharp. It sent a shiver through Aya’s feathers.

“There is a certain situation in my home that requires a healer with greater skill than my court can offer,” The Lady began, “And the position requires discretion. I cannot ensure that a healer from my court will not betray me.”

She paused, watching Aya and waiting for a reaction. Aya knew her brows had drawn together, but she willed all other emotion away.

“There are many distinguished healers in a court, my Lady,” Aya said slowly, “Surely you would want someone who has finished their training?”

“No one with a title,” Lady Edana pursed her lips.

Aya only nodded, feeling ever more confused. The lady’s secret was that salacious? Perhaps it would be wildly foolish to get wrapped up in this situation. But offers for work outside of the court did not come along very often for trainees. And Aya would be lying if she said she was not itching to experience something outside of the soft colors of Dawn.

“I would pay you a monthly salary,” The Lady tilted her head to the side, looking as if she knew exactly where the girl’s thoughts had gone, “You will receive the same amount no matter how many calls you receive in a month. Sometimes, I may call on you often. Other times I may not need your help for a long while.”

“You need not pay me if you don’t use my services,” Aya frowned. Many healers in training took positions without pay.

“I was hoping the salary may make the strange requirements worth their while.”

She named the amount and watched Aya’s eyes widen.

“So you need a healer on call to help with private matters. And I must keep the job a secret?” Aya clarified.

That did not sound so suspicious when summed up concisely. Or perhaps the money had dulled the warning signs. She had never let Thesan spoil her just because they were related. She insisted on living in the healer’s dorms and earning her own living like the rest of her class.

“That is correct,” Edana nodded.

“And I would be under contract?” Aya asked. Another common facet of training positions.

“Three years. And it would be through an Autumn Court bargain, and not written,” She said, still watching with those bird-like eyes. She would fit well into Dawn with all of those avine features.

“Very well,” Aya said, “But I would like a written copy of what the bargain entails.”

Edana’s lips twitched up into a smile that Aya couldn’t quite decipher.

“I will write it up and send it your way,” The Lady stood from her chair, “It should be in your hands by this time tomorrow.”

Lady Edana held out her hand. Aya told herself later that she should have been clever enough to wait before shaking hands. She should read that bargain first and study the details. But she did not think of that.

When the magic snapped she let out a yelp and snatched her hand back. Her forefinger was adorned with a simple golden band. She tried to twist it but it did not move, as if it were now a part of her.

“What is this?” She asked, incredulous, turning her hand as she examined the ring.

“A symbol of our contract,” Edana said, straight-faced as ever, “It is a tradition similar to the tattoos in the Night Court.”

Aya stared at it, the pit in her stomach growing larger. How she would be scolded for her oversight. She was certain a version of herself from the future was watching this conversation and screaming at her for being so foolish.

As all of this raged in her mind, she missed the flash of guilt in Edana’s eyes, quickly overtaken by something else. Something too desperate to be sorry.

#i'm kind of in love with this story #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #eris #eris acotar #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #eris fic #eris fanfic #eris fanfiction #eris x oc #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra fanfiction #autumn court #dawn court #dawn court oc #acotar healer oc #lady of autumn #vanserra brothers #beron vanserra #thesan #dawn court healer #acosf #acomaf #acowar #acofas #the benevolent

[seventeenlovesthree]

Going thoroughly insane over how on completely different ends Sora's and Koushirou's roles and relationships with their mothers (and in extension their parents in general) are portrayed in Adventure. And once again, it was ALL based on miscommunication:

Sora is perceived as the tradition-defying "tomboy" who is "loud" and plays football; Koushirou is perceived as the "good boy" who is always "polite and correct" and never acts spoilt or out of line. The key word here is "perceived", because we see both of them display traits in front of their peers that go beyond the "role" their parents witness (and that both of them are willingly or subconsciously displaying in front of them); Sora is actually the caring mom/big sister friend who literally and figuratively takes everyone under their wing, Koushirou is opinionated, forward and outspoken when things are dire and at stake.

Sora's mother wants her to act more like "the daughter of an ie-moto", more feminine, less out of line - at least, that is the message that reaches Sora, since her mother asks her to quit her beloved football. Her polite and aloof attitude appears to be rather cold and dismissive to Sora, which is basically what makes her rebel against the whole flower arrangement business. She feels unloved and misunderstood, as if she cannot be appreciated if she isn't "perfect" in her mother's eyes. Thus she is unable to understand that her mother may just worry about her hurting her injured leg even more. Furthermore, Sora has a very poor grasp on the fact that she herself is acting towards her friends and partner in the exact same way, albeit in a more gentle way most of the time.

Koushirou's mother wants him to be more selfish, to tell her what he dislikes and what bothers him, to stop being perfect at all times - but that is exactly what he physically cannot do, as he himself is doubting his whereabouts and simply tries to just shove all doubts and worries aside. Instead of acting "normal", he is hiding behind that barrier and mask of perfection towards his parents - and has to realize that this attitude is worrying them even more.

In the end, it all gets (mostly) resolved through them realizing that they're still loved regardless of what happened; they don't necessarily HAVE TO change, but it is up to them whether they want to or not. Meaning, their respective arcs of self-discovery have not ended yet, but the foundation for better relationships has been established here. Sora will start playing tennis (a.k.a changing her hobby) in an attempt to move towards her mother more, choosing to do so for her own sake. Koushirou will try to act more open and casual towards his parents, even though he is actively being reassured that his hobby (being into computers) is exactly what he is all about and that he doesn't have to change that.

#sora takenouchi #koushirou izumi #koushiro izumi #izzy izumi #koura #it's actually a shame they didn't play with that parallel more #especially seeing how well they get along with each other #and i still maintain that their mother's would LOVE them respectively #imagine kae swooning over that sweet yet extradordinary girl her son befriended!!! #imagine toshiko being delighted her daughter made such a well behaved friend #so obsessed with this parallel #my two cents #meta #digimon adventure #digimon

[sssammich]

supercorp one-word prompt: "captive"

hi sorry i'm choosing violence today

@lovesastateofmind1 gave this a quick read and angst stamp of approval so thanks, friend!

send me prompts

---

kara knew a thing or two about loss. she knew it intimately. slept beside it like a distant lover, a thin pillow between them.

so she knew that when she watched from her place beside lena as her best friend got married to jack, it almost felt like being embraced by loss all over again. she tucked her head down, covered her face daintily as if her happiness for the now wedded couple was so overwhelming she had to swallow it back in.

the applause rang true and loud and alive around her. she passed off the bouquet of plumerias back to lena, dutiful maid of honor as she was, and she watched as the love of her life walked down the aisle with the love of her life.

at the reception, she stood in front of dozens of people awaiting the prose they expected from a pulitzer-winning journalist. held captive by their eyes, their expectations. she smiled and let the crinkles by her eyes appear--that's how they knew she was smiling with her eyes, right? she would use it to her advantage if only to get through the next few minutes.

"love is…an enduring thing. a hopeful thing. it is the act of getting up in the morning, of walking to the window and pulling back the curtains to let light in." she was not looking at any one person even as she pretended to scan the room. if only so she didn't have to look at lena anymore.

oh, but she loved loss as much as loss loved her. and so she finished her sweep to cast her gaze at the loveliest shade of green eyes staring at her in wonder.

she gripped the mic just a smidgen tighter and cleared her throat, the rest of her speech out of her mind and floating like dust motes under the spotlight.

"i know that speeches like these tend to be chock full of stories and inside jokes about the bride and groom. and maybe a couple more of these--" she held up her near empty champagne flute, "--you'll get lucky, but i am truly speechless. all i know is that lena deserves all the love in the world. she can be stubborn and proud and will push you to your limits, but that's because her heart is so full of love to give. so all i want to say is this: jack, please, take care of her and love her with all of your heart. show her everyday that she is beautiful, mind and body. show her that you'll be present and loyal and stay by her side, regardless of who steps in and out of your lives. because if there's one thing i know about lena, it's that she is and will always be worth the effort."

she heard sniffles around the rooms, yet she couldn't pay attention to them. not when lena's smiling face slowly transformed to slight confusion, her brows furrowing just slightly. she raised her glass and offered her widest smile yet.

"i wish you two the best."

the cheers and applause thundered around them, others clinking their glasses as guests chanted for the lovely couple to kiss. kara shut her eyes and threw back the last dregs of her champagne. she hurried to the MC and dropped the microphone, before rushing away, citing a need for a refill and walked towards the bar. yet instead of stopping at the bar, she didn't stop.

a sob escaped out of her lungs and she barely stifled it, unable to hold it in. she wiped an errant tear away from her face as she walked past the bar and out of the grand hall altogether.

it turned out that cowardice, like loss, loved her company. and she embraced it with tight fists by her side.

#waknatious #replies #supercorp #kara x lena #samfic #supercorp ficlet #unrequited love??? but is it??? who knows #samfic: collateral