#✨ beyond the Horizon ✨

[silvashapeshifter]

some drawings in mess because :

✨my mind's a mess :P✨

Ok so in order :

• Diz!Sans having a not really good time ? (he's going insane yes :^)

• Revenge!Sans

• Doll

• also Revenge

• Doodle!Sans

• Éclair (don't pay attention to the writing, this drawing was made on a draft of a dissertation during my blank French baccalaureate)

• A doll version of Threat!Sans in the hand of Corruption (Error!Silva) — the quote next to the hand is not said by the doll but by someone else-

all the OCs here belong to me

— Undertale belongs to Toby Fox

— Errortale belongs to loverofpiggies (if the tag is active I'm deeply sorry:''^)

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love (8)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson! reader

taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC

word count | 5.2k words

summary | chapter title: The Side Quests of Lady Mikaelson and Jaehaerys Targaryen. Flashback, flashback. Flashback, flashback. Flashback!!! (backpack song from dora playing)

tags | uhh, child sickness? creepy man, death, blood, miscarriage, reminder: reader is mentally and physically a teenage girl, with the knowledge and memories of a five-hundred year old vampire.

note | My heart will always be soft for viserys iii and the boy he was (before becoming angry and abusive). I always thought Dany was the prince that was promised, now I realise it was Jaehaerys all along. Jaejae the 2nd, you will always be famous to me. Alsooooo can we talk about CrazyTom's artwork of Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, Aegon and Viserys. I'm obsessed!!!

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the landscape, yet it felt as if you had been riding for an eternity. Your heart ached for Jaehaerys; the boy had gone from being flushed with fever to trembling like a fragile leaf in your arms. The relentless chill of night seeped through the sky as you desperately sought refuge, knowing that time was slipping through your fingers.

A troubling notion flickered at the back of your mind, persistent and unwelcome: vampire blood possessed remarkable healing properties. You understood its power all too well—but administering it to a child? The thought sent a shudder through you, compelling you to cast it aside.

At last, a flicker of hope emerged on the horizon, a humble farm materializing in the fading light. You encouraged your steed to quicken its pace, each stride bringing with it the promise of sanctuary.

Yet, as you approached the entrance, a gnawing doubt took root in your mind. The farm was eerily silent; no animals roamed the barren fields, and the grass grew wild, reclaiming the land it once served. Rusty gates hung crookedly on their hinges, their broken visage painting a grim picture of neglect. Though the place bore the marks of despair, it was shelter you so desperately needed.

In the heart of the farm stood a dilapidated house, its once-inviting facade now obscured by age and wear. Your brow knitted in concern as you noted the boarded windows, their splintered frames, while shattered glass glimmered ominously like shards of a lost past.

Dismounting the horse with careful precision, you cradled Jaehaerys in your arms, his small frame feeling impossibly fragile against you. His small head rested against your shoulder, and with tender care, you drew the blanket around him, eager to shield his silvery hair from sight.

With a determined stride, you approached the door, Jaehaerys nestled protectively against you. You wrapped your knuckles against the weathered wood, the sound echoing in the stillness. After a brief, agonizing wait, you knocked again, more forcefully this time, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. Your patience, a rare commodity in such dire moments, teetered on the brink of exhaustion. Just as you reached for the handle, ready to force your way in, the door creaked open violently.

A man stood there, his expression a mask of suspicion that softened upon recognizing you—a mere girl holding a babe. He appeared to be in his late twenties, towering over you with a lean frame, almost ghostly in his thinness. Dark hollows etched into his cheeks and sunken eyes spoke of sleepless nights and countless burdens, aging him far beyond his years.

You took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of your urgency. "Forgive me, sir," you began, your voice a blend of desperation and resolve. "My son is gravely ill, and I implore you to grant us shelter from the weather."

His dark brown eyes flicked over your form, lingering on the boy before darting past you to survey the evening sky. "Seems fine to me," he remarked, a hint of sarcasm threading through his tone.

A sigh escaped your lips, a mingling of frustration and exasperation. You understood the rules of invitation all too well; only through his willingness would you find sanctuary. "I assure you, he has taken ill. A fever seizes him, and I fear he won't make it till sunrise if we remain out here. Please, I beg you—let us come inside."

The man scrutinized you, searching for hidden truths behind your wide, beseeching eyes. Then came the question that sent a ripple of caution through your veins: "Are you alone?"

A warning echoed in your mind, a primal instinct urging you to tread carefully. Yet, you were not merely a helpless girl; you were an Original, a creature of the night with immortality coursing through your veins. Steeling your resolve, you responded with a nod, your eyes wide to convey innocence, "Yes, I am."

He stared at you for a moment more, then stepped aside, inviting you to enter. “Come inside, then,” he murmured, granting you passage across the threshold.

As you ventured into his dwelling, it mirrored the desolation that lingered beyond its walls. The atmosphere was devoid of warmth, wrapped in a shroud of emptiness that seemed to echo the chill of the wintry night outside.

“How do you survive in winter?” you couldn’t help but ask, curiosity leaking into your voice.

He moved ahead of you, shrugging dismissively as if the question were an afterthought. “I get by.”

You followed him through the dimly lit corridors, ending up in what you surmised was his bedroom. With a gesture towards a ghastly contraption that barely resembled a bed, he said, “You can put him here.”

Grateful, you nodded and brushed past him, gently placing Jaehaerys down on the makeshift bed. With tender care, you swept the strands of hair from his face, attempting to obscure the telltale glimmer of his silver locks.

“You look a bit young to have a child,” the man remarked from his position behind you, his gaze trailing over you with an intensity that unsettled your very core.

"Aren't all girls?" you replied softly, allowing a hint of bite to creep into your tone as you turned your attention back to Jaehaerys.

"Fancy clothes you've got on," came his voice again, laced with curiosity and something more insidious. You sighed inwardly, frustrated by his relentless inquisition, feeling the heat of his gaze like a noose tightening around your throat. "You a lady or something?"

Your eyes drifted down to your attire — a simple green dress, elegantly cut but unpretentious by your standards. To you, it was nothing but fabric; to the eyes of the common folk, however, it gleamed with the opulence of fine material and intricate embroidery that bespoke of you standing.

"Or something," you replied vaguely, then spun to meet his gaze head-on, a noncommittal smile painting your lips as you turned to face him. "You've been so kind, yet I realize I have yet to learn your name. My name is Rebekah and this is my son, Jayme," you said.

A sly smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, an expression that held secrets of its own. "Hello, Rebekah. I’m Tym," he said, the name rolling off his tongue like a promise—or perhaps a threat, you couldn't discern yet.

The air thickened with a momentary silence, as your attention remained fixed on Jaehaerys, who stirred restlessly upon the rickety bed. With a subtle clearing of his throat, Tym broke the stillness. “Got some stew simmering over a pot. Care for some?”

His intentions appeared benign, yet a cautious wariness lingered beneath your polite smile. “That would be lovely, Tym,” you replied.

As he turned to fetch the stew, you cradled Jaehaerys, your fingertips brushing against his fevered brow. You planted a gentle kiss atop his head, whispering a quiet prayer for his recovery, your thoughts drifting back to a distant, haunting memory of the only time illness dared to lay its claim upon you.

You laid in your small makeshift bed, your frail form draped beneath layers of faded linen. It was a peculiar day, the air thick with the scent of impending rain, yet it did nothing to soothe the searing discomfort that coursed through her. At the tender age of eight, you found herself ensnared by a relentless cough, the kind that rattled your small chest and left you gasping for respite.

Your mother, Esther, hovered close, a blend of nurturing instinct and divine desperation etched upon her face. With deft hands, she anointed your forehead with fragrant oils, whispering incantations as if the very words could weave a protective barrier against the illness that sought to ravage her youngest child. Dreamcatchers, crafted from woven twigs and adorned with feathers, hung limply around the bed, enchanting the air with their promise of sweet, undisturbed slumber.

Though young and naïve, you could sense the depths of your mother’s magic, a language that danced just out of reach of your understanding. As your body quaked with another fit of coughs, you felt an unwelcome chill enveloping you, a stark contrast to the fever that scorched your skin.

“Shh, my sweet,” Esther cooed, her voice a soft balm against the storm of her anxiety swirling within the room. She gently stroked your flushed cheek, her eyes—usually so fierce and commanding—now wide with concern, scanning every inch of her child for signs of relief.

Suddenly, the sun’s warmth spilled through the hut as the flap was pushed aside with an abruptness that startled you. With great effort, you turned your head, your heart fluttering at the sight of your father's imposing figure silhouetted in the doorway. For the briefest moment, joy sparked within you—your father had come to check on you.

Yet that joy was extinguished instantly as you watched him barely acknowledge your presence, his gaze locked onto your mother like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. “Wife,” he rumbled, his voice rough and unyielding, “Hendrik calls for you.”

Without a glance in Mikael’s direction, Esther continued her tending, damp cloth in hand as she wiped away the sweat that clung to your overheated skin. “I am busy, Mikael,” she replied, her tone firm, unyielding against her husband.

Your small frame tensed as the tension in the air thickened. Your father’s eyes darkened, annoyance flashing across his face. “He is in distress,” he pressed, his voice low, “he needs his mother.”

Fleeting uncertainty crossed your gaze as you stole a glance at your mother. Esther's lips pursed, a familiar sign of her frustration simmering just below the surface. “And she needs me more,” Esther countered defiantly.

“I will not ask you again, Esther,” Mikael’s voice was dangerous now, a rumble that hinted at the storm brewing beneath the surface.

With a resigned sigh, Esther’s gaze softened as it met yours, a flicker of pain reflected within, as she acquiesced. “I will be out in a moment.”

After a tense moment that felt like an eternity, Mikael strode from the hut, leaving a cold breeze in his wake. You could almost see your mother’s shoulders sag, the weight of contention that had filled the air lifting slightly.

Esther returned to her ministrations, fussing over you as if her very life depended on it, before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your hot forehead. “Rest, my sweet. I promise, I will return.”

The present moment snapped into focus as the soft creak of the door announced Tym's return, his hands cradling a small bowl of steaming stew that filled the air with an enticing aroma.

You offered a grateful smile as he approached, accepting the bowl with a sense of warmth that contrasted with the chill of Jaehaerys's feverish skin. Though you had no need for sustenance— in all honesty, you had no need for human food, whatsoever—it was Jaehaerys who was truly in need of nourishment. Yet the delicate strands of his silver hair were a secret you dared not expose.

With wide, innocent eyes and a pleading smile, you turned your gaze to Tym, your voice a gentle lilt. “You’ve been so gracious and accommodating, Tym. Might I trouble you for a glass of water to soothe my parched throat?”

His expression faltered for a moment, surprise flickering across his face, before it transformed into a smirk that danced across his lips, revealing a charming dimple. With a nod of understanding, he lifted himself from his seat and made for the door, ready to fulfill your request.

The moment he stepped beyond the threshold, you seized the opportunity. Raising your wrist to your mouth, you punctured a vein with your sharp fangs, allowing a few precious droplets of your vampire blood to trickle into the simmering stew. The rich, coppery liquid blended seamlessly with the bubbling broth, and just as swiftly, your wrist healed, the wound disappearing as if it had never existed.

You leaned over the sleeping form of Jaehaerys, your voice a delicate whisper entwined with the warmth of your concern. "Jaehaerys, my sweet," you murmured softly, gently brushing tousled silver strands from his forehead. "You must wake and eat."

The boy’s lips pouted, instinctively shaking his head in protest, prompting you to coo in a soothing tone as you gave him a gentle shake. "Just a few bites, darling, then you can drift back into slumber. I promise it will help."

Slowly, his violet eyes began to flutter open, blurriness giving way to confused recognition. "Munās," he murmured, the word escaping his lips like a soft caress. A tender smile graced your face at the endearing term, encouraging him along as you lifted a spoonful of the stew to his mouth. (Aunt)

As he slowly sat up, the blanket slid away, unveiling his Targaryen silver hair glistening in the soft light. With a cautious lean, he accepted the offering, his tiny bites deliberate and slow, while you continued to weave sweet encouragements into the air.

Another harrowing cough wracked your small frame as you lay ensconced in the shadowy confines of your hut. Tears welled in your eyes, cascading down your cheeks as the weight of despair pressed upon your fragile heart, specter of death lurking ever closer.

Your head turned slightly, drawn by the soft patter of footsteps crossing the threshold of your sanctuary. Hope flared within you as you believed it might be your mother returning. Slowly, you blinked open your weary eyes to behold a small boy with bright, golden hair and piercing blue eyes, peering hesitantly around the dim room.

“Nik,” you croaked, a wan smile flickering to life despite your ailment.

Niklaus met your gaze, his own lips curving into a smile that illuminated the gloom. “Baby sister,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you murmured, your voice hoarse and scratchy. “You’ll catch my sickness too.”

With a puff of bravado, Niklaus drew up his chest. “It’s quite all right. I was chosen as the sacrifice.”

Your small brows knit in confusion, the gravity of his words lost on your young mind. “What?”

He began to explain with a playful glint in his eyes, “Initially, Elijah offered himself but Rebekah, Kol, and Henrik voted, and I was chosen to come instead.”

“Why?” you asked, a small pout forming on your lips.

A mischievous grin danced across your brother’s face as he playfully drew out a small box he had been clutching. "Because, dear sister, I've brought gifts."

With that revelation, your sickened facade brightened, and hope rekindled within you. “Really?” you gasped.

“Indeed,” Klaus said, settling beside you, the box nestled comfortably in his lap. He opened it with care, revealing its treasures to you.

"Rebekah crafted this lovely flower crown just for you,” he announced, lifting out a quaint yet ruffled circlet made of daisies. A tender smile spread across your lips as Niklaus gently raised your head to place the crown upon it.

“Now, this is from Elijah,” he continued, holding up a delicate bracelet of tiny beads before sliding it onto your wrist. “He thought it would add a touch of color to your day.”

A frown grew on his face as he reached for yet another item. “Henrik was at a loss for what to offer, and Kol…” he hesitated, clearly exasperated, “Kol handed you an acorn.”

A delighted giggle escaped your lips at the absurdity of it all. “An acorn? Why on earth would he do that?”

“He thought it would be amusing,” Klaus replied, rolling his eyes, while you giggled in actual amusement, as he placed the acorn in your palm.

You gazed up at Niklaus with the purest adoration, your voice softening as you asked, “Now, what did you bring me?”

He hesitated for a moment, a shy smile creeping onto his face as he rummaged through the box once more. Finally, he withdrew a small wooden figurine, expertly carved into the likeness of a girl with delicate wings. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized the beauty before you. “A fairy,” you gasped, snatching it from his hands with reverence.

“It took quite a bit of time to craft her,” your brother admitted, a hint of bashfulness coloring his cheeks.

Cradling the wooden figurine as if it were spun from glass, you murmured in awe, “I love her. I shall name her Nikola, after you.”

“I’m honored, baby sister,” Klaus replied, his smile brightening, though a shadow of concern lingered in his azure gaze as it wandered over your frail form.

A shadow fell upon the moment as a voice broke through, startling you both. “Niklaus,” came Finn’s stern tone from the entrance, his figure half-illuminated in the dim light, his gaze aflame with concern. “You ought not to be here.”

“I was merely—”

“It’s far too dangerous,” Finn interjected, his tone unyielding. “You must leave at once.”

Niklaus huffed, frustration laced in his voice. “Very well, I’ll take my leave.”

With a final, gentle squeeze of your hand, he cast a glare at Finn as he slipped out of the hut.

“He was only bringing me gifts,” you murmured to your brother softly, seeking to defend Klaus.

Finn turned his gaze upon you, his features softening entirely. “He is but a boy, sister, which means his body is more susceptible to the fever.”

“Oh,” you replied, frowning in understanding. Your eyes flickered to him, a hopeful smile gracing your lips. “But you have a gift for me as well, yes?”

A roguish grin unfurled on Finn’s lips as he lowered himself beside you, leaning in conspiratorially. “Indeed... my delightful company."

You pouted, feigning dissatisfaction at his answer. Finn relented swiftly, his eyes twinkling. “Fear not, sweet sister, for I come bearing treasures.”

From behind his back, he revealed your favorite flower—a rare middlemist bloom—its delicate petals unfurled like secrets waiting to be whispered. “But this doesn’t grow in our region,” you gasped, voice cracking yet lilting with awe.

“Indeed,” Finn replied, his expression warm as he regarded the flower. “I traveled great distances to find it, and what’s more, there’s something undeniably special about this one.”

“What is it?” you inquired, your heart racing with excitement.

“I’ve been practicing magic with Ayana,” he confessed, pride lighting his features. “And I have successfully cast a spell to ensure this flower shall never wilt.”

Your eyes widened in wonder, absorbing his words. “You mean it will remain this way forever?”

“Yes,” he affirmed gently, placing the flower delicately within your small hands. “Let it symbolize my eternal love for you.”

Your youthful heart raced at his declaration, a radiant smile gracing your lips. “Eternal, truly?”

“Indeed, my flower,” Finn replied softly.

As that memory enveloped you, a bittersweet thought gnawed at your heart. Finn's ‘eternal love’ had faltered in the wake of your misstep, a fleeting mistake that had cast a long shadow over your bond. The pain lingered like a specter, even as you tended to Jaehaerys, carefully guiding him to sip the savory stew infused with your healing blood. Each gentle caress of your hand across his fevered brow was filled with an unspoken hope.

The tranquility was shattered, a sound like breaking glass slicing through the air, pulling you from your reverie. You whipped around, your heart racing as you caught sight of Tym, his gaze locked onto the boy child. “Tym,” you breathed, feeling a prickle of dread.

“The boy’s hair,” he spat, voice laden with accusation. “It’s silver!” You flinched at the loudness of his words, your eyes darting to Jaehaerys, who, to your relief, appeared to be deep in slumber once again.

You felt a wave of dread wash over you, the boy nestled against you oblivious to the chaos. “He’s a Targaryen bastard,” you countered, your wide eyes feigning innocence, your voice a whisper of urgency.

Tym shook his head vehemently, his once warm expression now twisted by suspicion. “No, no! You called him Jaehaerys,” he exclaimed, his finger jabbing toward you like a dagger. “Today was the prince's funeral! Did ya kidnap him?”

Your heart sank, frustration simmering beneath your composed exterior. You raised your hands, palms facing him in an attempt to calm the brewing tempest, as if easing a wild beast. “No, please. Just calm down,” you urged, your tone laced with reason.

Yet a spark ignited within Tym’s gaze, transforming his concern into something darker. “Perhaps there’s a reward out for the two of you,” he sneered, the words dripping with malice. With that, he turned to leave.

But before he could take a step, you appeared before him with a feral grace that startled him. He stumbled backward, landing abruptly on his rear as shock flared in his eyes. “What the fuck are you?”

With a soothing tone, you replied, “I need you to calm down, Tym.” You tried, almost desperately, to appeal to a semblance of mercy within him.

In a frantic attempt to escape, he began to crawl away, but you were far too quick. Swiftly, you seized his chin in a gentle yet firm grip, directing his gaze to meet yours, channeling your compulsion. “Calm down,” you urged, feeling the power of your words weave through the air like tendrils of shadow.

Gradually, you noticed the tension in his shoulders ease, yet a gnawing uncertainty tugged at your mind. Yes, you were a stranger to him, but the haste with which he spoke of rewards for both you and Jaehaerys left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, you whispered, “What were your intentions with me?”

The compulsion settled over him like a shroud, and he answered without hesitation, the words spilling forth in a smooth, almost languid cadence. “A pretty girl comes to a lonely man's door. It’s practically a gift from the gods.”

“And what if I did not reciprocate those feelings?” The question escaped your lips with a pang of trepidation. Deep down, you feared you already knew the answer.

Tym shrugged, his gaze locked with yours, a reckless glimmer in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re a girl, and I'm a man.”

A weary sigh escaped you, disappointment settling like a stone in your chest. You dropped back onto your heels, your mind swirling with the implications of his words. In a world where predators lurked in shadows, your thoughts danced with the darkest possibilities—his intent to claim you while you slept, disregarding your will and robbing you of your decency, mere steps away from a child.

Deep sorrow enveloped you, thick and suffocating. With men like this, the glimmer of hope for any kind man felt like a cruel joke. “I genuinely believed you to be different—a bit strange, yes, but kind.” Your voice softened, laced with disbelief. “And now I see you possess the same animalistic traits as the rest.”

You paused, considering your next words with the weight they carried. “But I am not just any girl. And because of that I have the power and strength to protect other girls that cannot protect themselves.”

“And to do that,” you murmured, a chilling intensity igniting your gaze as your veins darkened beneath your skin, your pupils transformed into hungry slits, your fangs stretching long and sharp as moonlight kissed your features, “I must rid the world of men like you.”

Panic flared in his eyes, tangible and raw, yet your compulsion anchored him in place, keeping him eerily calm as you leaned closer, your breath a whisper of silk. “I haven’t fed in days. Soothe your mind by knowing that I shall savor every drop.”

With that, you descended, your fangs finding purchase in the soft flesh of his neck. His warm blood surged into your mouth, hot and intoxicating, even as he struggled against the inevitability of his fate, the frantic thumps of his heart echoing the finality of the moment, while his protests faded into a desperate silence — knowing it was a battle he could not win.

You lay in a restless slumber, your breaths ragged and shaky, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on your brow like dewdrops in the pale light of morning. Once again, Esther softly dabbed a cool, damp cloth over your forehead, worries etched deep in her face as she watched her youngest child struggle to summon the strength to open her weary eyes.

“Mama,” Your voice emerged, frail and whispered, like the rustle of leaves in a faint breeze.

Esther’s warm, deep-brown eyes locked onto her daughter’s, and a bittersweet smile graced her lips, tinged with sadness. “Hush, my love, I am here.”

The young girl gaze held Esther’s, filled with a mixture of trust and fear, as your mother’s tender hands continued to soothe your frail, sickly form. Yet, as the heat surged through your small body, you could not suppress the trembling words that slipped from your lips, “Am I going to die?”

For a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze in the hut. Esther’s hand stilled, her heart clenched tightly in her chest. She diverted her gaze, struggling to conceal the tears that threatened to spill, the weight of her daughter’s words echoing in the silence. After a brief struggle for composure, she raised her hand to wipe away the dampness from her cheeks, looking down at the precious girl before her with fierce determination. “No, my sweet. You shall be just fine.”

A heavy stillness enveloped the hut, the world outside a distant murmur as your small voice broke through it once more, tremulous yet bold, “Will Father be sad if I die?”

Esther felt her heart shatter at those words, each syllable a dagger to her already broken spirit. Mikael harbored disdain for you, a constant reminder of his wife's unforgivable betrayal. Fortunate that he remained unaware of Niklaus’s lineage, yet Esther’s sweet daughter nevertheless yearned for her father’s love, seeking any semblance of affection in a heart hardened by resentment.

In that moment, Esther summoned what remained of her resolve, donning the familiar mask of tenderness, “Of course, he shall be, my star.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, yet she couldn’t bear to shatter the fragile threads of hope that clung to her daughter.

As your eyes fluttered shut once more, the lull of despair washed over Esther. She turned away, struggling to disguise the stark truth that loomed ever closer: her precious child hung at death's door. She could not bear the loss of another—never again, not after Freya.

Flaws ran deep in Esther, but they were borne of circumstances beyond her control; the bond she shared with you was a force unto itself. Perhaps it was the innocence of her youngest that drew Esther in, or perhaps it was the stark contrast to her other children. The warmth of your light was undeniable, a glow that illuminated the fears she dared not confront. Still, she would love them all—though deep down her heart loved you most.

With a surge of fierce determination, she pressed her hand to her abdomen, feeling the promise of new life stirring within her—a babe that once again grew. Yet the sacrifice loomed before her.

Night had cast its velvety cloak over the world; the moon watched solemnly as her family succumbed to slumber. Gathering the materials for her desperate ritual, Esther prepared with practiced hands. The moment felt both heavy and sacred. With a steady resolve, she sliced her palm, crimson droplets spilling forth to dance upon your fevered brow. Then, she cradled her daughter’s head, her other hand resting over her own womb.

With a whisper that quivered in the air like a prayer, Esther began to murmur the spell—repeating it like a mantra, “Hanc vitam in eam.”

"Hanc vitam in eam."

"Hanc vitam in eam."

Each iteration grew more fervent, woven with her love and desperation, a last thread of hope tethering her spirit to your fading vitality.

When she finally opened her eyes, a wave of relief washed over her like the dawn breaking through the darkest night. Your strained features had eased, the pallor giving way to the flush of life. A sob escaped Esther, raw and unrestrained, as she sank beside her precious child, lifting the fragile frame into her arms.

All that mattered now was the warmth of your body against her own, even as blood seeped unnoticed from between her legs, the physical price of her choice.

A/N — actually confirmation that reader is esther's fav. also to go in more detail of reader's infatuation with finn, it's mostly because in her time, you were raised to become the perfect wife, and her mother always used to tell her, "when looking for the right husband, he should be like finn." obviously she took that too literally.

Next up, Reader returns to King's Landing...

Anywayyy

ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴋᴀᴇʟsᴏɴs

(can you tell I made this within an hour ;) )

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@barnes70stark @izabell26 @anyisaravia2001 @urdeftonesgrrrl @helo1281917 @strangefunthornqueen @ellie-xOxo @hueanhdang @elenapri0502 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @caged-birdies-blog @darktrashsoulbear

@lenavonswartzschild @writtenbyhollywood @gl4ssw1ngp1xy @goddesslilithmoriarty @sunset18rose @filmflux @ln8118 @esposadomd @sara-grimes-yess @littybeech @gyneve @https-kokomi @void21 @yariany02 @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @niktwazny303 @missyviolet123 @caribbeangal @ggukiespace @levimaids @Lokisgoddessofpower

@anakilusmos @spacexdrago @strawberymilktea @snowtargaryen @fiction-fanfic-reader @feelingfaye @sxlsvv @crystal-siren @no-one0804 @tojisprincess @meraxesruin @supernaturalstilinski @talilosha@emerald-error20 @athanasia-day @mynameisbaby9 @lexi-anastastia-astra-luna @siriusblackrunmeover @shilphy87 @moonstruksandco

[uniquexusposts]

The Dutch Grand Prix - M. Verstappen (2)

Summary: Y/n and Max meet again after the race in a restaurant.

Note: you ask and I write✨✨

Part 1

The sun was setting over the North Sea, casting a golden hue across the sandy dunes of Bergen aan Zee, a town north of Zandvoort. The small town was wrapped in a familiar calm, a peace that Y/n hadn’t felt in weeks. She’d left Zandvoort with her thoughts still racing as fast as the cars she’d watched earlier.

Now, in the fading light of the evening, she found herself drawn to her old favourite spot—an unassuming beach restaurant nestled just beyond the dunes, where the waves whispered against the shore and the world seemed to slow down. The place hadn’t changed much; the same weathered wood, the same string lights swaying in the breeze, the same scent of salt and seaweed lingering in the air. It felt like coming home. It was like coming home.

Y/n chose a table by the window, where she could watch the tide roll in as she tried to unravel the knot of feelings in her chest. The waitress greeted her with a warm smile, recognising her as a familiar face from years past. 

“Y/n L/n, right?”

Y/n nodded, trying to recall the girl. Who was she? Where did she know her from? “I know you from somewhere, but I can’t remember it…” She squinted her eyes. “What is your name, again?” 

“Manon,” the woman chuckled. 

Y/n’s eyes grew and a smile grew on her face. “Holy shit, you have changed so much,” she said. Manon used to be her classmate during primary school. 

“Honestly, it’s like twenty years ago. I saw you and I just immediately recognised you. How have you been? Still live in France?” 

This moment made Y/n happy, exactly what she needed after this weekend. “Yes, I still live in France, we still own the chateau. How are you?” 

They rolled into a conversation, reconnecting again. And luckily, the restaurant wasn’t busy at all, so Manon had some time to talk. During the chat, some other people of the restaurant joined the conversation. Bergen was a small town, everybody knew each other, and it was something big when Y/n’s family emigrated to France. This was like a reunion. 

“So, how what the Grand Prix?” Manon asked after her eyes fell on the pass that was still hanging around Y/n’s neck. 

“It was amazing, but I’m glad I’m having a moment of peace.”

They both laughed about it. Then Manon asked Y/n for her order. Just like the old days, Y/n ordered a citrus lemonade and the famous club sandwich. 

As the lemonade was served, she gazed out at the horizon, the sun dipping into the water, turning the sky into a canvas of oranges and pinks. She tried to lose herself in the view, in the simplicity of being alone. Yet, she couldn’t do it. She hadn’t expected to feel so…unsettled after the race, after seeing Julien again, and after that brief, electrifying conversation with Max. 

Max Verstappen. 

The name still felt foreign on her tongue, yet it lingered in her mind, a strange echo of something she couldn’t quite place. She’d tried to brush off the connection they’d shared in the garage, telling herself it was nothing more than a polite exchange. Why am I making such a big deal of it? He’s having this kind of conversation with everyone. This was some kind of pre programmed conversation. And everybody got trapped in it. 

A sudden burst of laughter pulled her out of her thoughts. Y/n turned her head, and her breath caught in her throat. There, at the entrance of the restaurant, stood Max. He wasn’t alone—his family was with him, all smiles and easy conversation, clearly enjoying the afterglow of his race. But his presence filled the space in a way that made the small restaurant seem suddenly smaller, more intimate.

For a moment, their eyes met across the room, and the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. Max’s expression shifted from surprise to something softer, a recognition that mirrored her own. She hadn’t expected to see him again, not here, not like this. She had the impression Max would leave the track, and the concerning country, as quickly as possible. But here he was, at a beach restaurant, near a small town, 40 kilometres up north from Zandvoort. 

Y/n quickly looked away and felt her heart quicken, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in her chest. She never knew how to act when she saw a famous person. But for real, what were the odds? In this quiet corner of the world, after everything that had happened today, here he was—again. She looked into his direction again. Max offered her a small, almost shy smile, the kind that made her stomach flip. Then, without breaking eye contact, he said something to his family, and they all began moving toward her side of the restaurant. Y/n’s pulse raced as she realised they were being seated at the table next to hers.

Internal error. 

As they settled in, Max glanced her way again, and this time, there was a question in his eyes, as if he were silently asking if it was alright for him to be here, to share this space with her. Y/n answered with a small, reassuring smile.

Besides herself and Max’ family, there were only two other people in the restaurant. It was like everyone else was at Zandvoort, or watched the race at home. No one would be at this place and beach now. It was odd to Y/n, it felt like she was an intruder to his time with his family. She looked ahead of her, to the sunset and tried to distract herself from the fact that Max was sitting next to her. 

A few minutes passed with stolen glances, the two of them navigating the strange but not unpleasant tension that crackled between them. Eventually, the waitress brought over another chair, sliding it in between the two tables as if sensing the inevitable—bringing them closer together.

Max’s family, getting lost in their conversation, didn’t seem to notice as he moved his seat to bridge the gap between their tables. But Y/n noticed, her breath catching as he settled beside her, their elbows nearly brushing. He looked at her then, really looked at her, and in his eyes, she saw the same question she’d been asking herself all evening: what now?

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Max said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that matched the glow of the setting sun. There was something in his tone, a mix of surprise and something else—something hopeful.

“Neither did I,” Y/n replied, her voice just as quiet, as if they were sharing a secret. “But it’s nice… to see a familiar face.”

Max smiled, a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes this time. “Yeah, it is.” The pressure was off. “Do you get here often?” Then he looked away and he smirked. “That sounded like a bad pick up line. I’m sorry.” 

The wasn’t wearing his Red Bull Racing shirt, but just a black T-shirt and it seemed like he became a completely different person. 

“Didn’t even notice it,” Y/n laughed along, but it indeed sounded like a bad pick up line. “But, actually, yes. Well, not really now, but when I was a child, yes.” She noticed the question in his eyes. “I grew up in Bergen, the town around the corner. I moved away when I was ten years old.”

“Really? To where? Let me guess. France? Because your…”

“Ex.”

He nodded. “Your ex,” he filled in, he caught a flash of hope in his stomach. “They spoke French.” But why was she here with her ex?

“Yes, yes, we moved to France when I was ten years old. Do you know Ik Vertrek?” Ik Vertrek was the Dutch version of the British No Going Back, where a family emigrates to another country to build a new life. 

He nodded. “No way,” he blurted and his eyes grew. “Which season and episode?”

“No,” Y/n laughed and covered her face with her hands. “Don’t you dare to look it up. But we were on that show, yeah.”

“You are a real reality star, Y/n,” Max teased. “And now? What’s happening with it now?”

“We are still running a business there.”

“Wow. I never met someone who was on Ik Vertrek.”

“And I never met a driver before,” she playfully replied, giving him a wink. 

A shy, but cheerful laugh rolled over Max’ lips. 

And just like that, the conversation flowed between them as easily as the waves outside, the earlier awkwardness melting away. Y/n carefully brought up the race. She didn’t want to only talk about the Grand Prix, she would understand if he wanted to talk about other things. And they talked about why Max was in Bergen; his family loved this place from weekend trips and they saw it as an opportunity to relive this moment again. Y/n found herself laughing more than she had in days, the weight of the weekend slowly lifting as they shared stories and memories.

As the evening wore on, the line between their two tables blurred until it was as if they were one group, one conversation, one shared experience. Max’s family welcomed her into their fold without hesitation, and Y/n felt a sense of belonging that she hadn’t felt in a long time. But most of all, she felt the connection between her and Max grow stronger with every passing moment, like a tide that couldn’t be held back.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313 @barcelonaloverf1life @itsjustkhaos

[sebastianswallows]

Nobody's Darling — 1. The Road

— PAIRING: Benny Cross x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Benny comes across a girl walking alone in the middle of nowhere and offers her a ride to the nearest town. They stop at a motel.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 3.1k

— A/N: Hello, my dears! So yeah, I saw The Bikeriders because of Austin (and Tom Hardy) and of course I had to write something for it 😂 I've been labouring at it for the past two weeks lol This was meant to be a one-shot but it kept growing and I decided to split it into chapters. The plot is partly based on something that happened to me, namely I missed my stop and the bus drove me way out of the city before I realised what had happened 💀 Anyway, hope you enjoy it! 😘💕✨

Grey clouds floated across the sky. Fields of yellow and burnt grass rolled along like waves. A string of birds cut through the far horizon. The fading light of the sun seeped softly through the glass and warmed her cheek but she was happy to keep sleeping, caught in that special spot between awake and dreaming when her thoughts were peaceful, settled, and she could weave from them a pretty fantasy. The chill of a November evening didn’t quite make it into the bus but the windows were already fogging and the seats grew cold.

She woke up with a start when the wheels struck a hole in the ground and everything jolted.

“Where am I?” she groaned, squinting at the window. Her reflection frowned back but beyond it, she could see… nothing. She was in the middle of nowhere with only naked fields and swaying power lines around her. She checked her watch and her heart stopped.

“I should’ve been home by now. Oh no, I did not sleep through my stop,” she whispered to herself — but she did. “Wait! Driver!”

She got up and ran to the front, scrambling past all those empty seats, her jacket in one hand and purse flailing in the other. The driver gave her a bored expression as she leaned panting against the divider.

“Wait, please, I need to get off! Where are we?”

The man looked at her with all the serenity of an overworked drone in a dead-end job. He didn’t seem particularly alarmed to see her there, nor did he seem to care about her predicament.

“Halfway to the next town,” he mumbled as he started to slow down. “There’s another stop ‘bout a mile back.”

“Great…”

“Next bus comes tomorrow ‘round seven thirty.”

“Oh.”

She looked around again as if she could see something different from up here but it was all the same. The vastness of it frightened her and she half-wished she’d never woken up.

The driver pulled over at the side of the road and tilted the cap on his bald head, his teeth tight around a toothpick.

“You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah…” she said automatically. “Sure.”

He opened the door and her whole body began to tremble, the situation suddenly completely real. She gathered all her nerves and put one step in front of the other, and as soon as her feet were on the ground the bus started to move again, driving away.

The sun was dipping into a pool of pink and the birds that circled overhead were growing louder. She was alone in a darkening field with nothing in front of and behind her except for lamplight spilling yellow and pale over an empty road and dead grass all around. If she regretted getting off that bus, it was too late now.

“At least it was warm inside,” she muttered. “But I could never make it back in time for work tomorrow from the next town… Damn it.”

There was nothing left to do. She sighed to herself and started walking back. In her head, she tried to calculate how late it would be by the time she made it home but each result only scared her further.

“Best not to think about it,” she said. “Just keep walking…”

She hadn’t gone on such a hike since she was a little girl, and never far outside of town. She’d only walked through fields and meadows and the forest that stretched east. There was certainly no time for it since getting hired at the local newspaper, and she liked it that way. Her days were measured and predictable, her clothes were always clean, and nothing ever hurt her — except her back if she sat down writing for too long. She was scared now not just because she was alone and in the dark but because she’d never done a thing like this before. Her heels were unsteady on the crumbling tar and her purse felt heavy on her shoulder. Insects were singing in the grass and creatures rustled through it that she dared not think about. Were there snakes around here? Rats? She pulled her jacket tighter around herself.

After half an hour she came across the bus stop that the driver mentioned. The sign for it was half-chewed off and the wooden bench was worn and stained a sickly yellow beneath a flickering light. She considered for a moment sleeping there until the morning but then the ignominy hit her: to sleep on a dirty wooden bench under the flutter of moths and mosquitoes. To come home unwashed and stinky with her hair a mess and her stockings torn. And if any of the neighbours saw her… No. She walked past that bus stop and didn’t look back, and soon found herself surrounded by darkness again.

“You deserve it,” she muttered as she wrapped her arms around herself, her body ambling forward with none of the grace and poise she had half an hour before. “How could you fall asleep? You weren’t even that tired, and the bus ride is so noisy. You couldn’t wait another ten minutes to get home? Idiot, idiot…”

The walk back to the city was taking longer than she thought it would, and by eight o’clock she was still out there. The sky was sprinkled with stars and the wind was flitting gently through her hair and the creatures in the bushes were growing ever louder. If she weren’t so cold and terrified she might have felt exhausted. Her feet hurt and her back was bent under the weight of her purse and she hadn’t eaten since noon. But suddenly, in the distance, she saw a glint of something made of glass and metal — it was a phone booth. The joy that rushed through her wiped all her pain away and she hurried to reach it, nearly tripping. She felt halfway home as soon as she stepped inside its murky walls.

“Please work, please work, please please please.”

She picked up the receiver and held it on her shoulder as she opened the phone book and started leafing through for the nearest police station. They would be obliged to come and pick her up — that is if she could only explain where she was…

“Hello? Operator?” But no voice came from the other side. The tone was dead. “Operator?” she tried again, her voice growing shaky. “Hello? Anyone?”

As she kept tapping on the phone hook, desperate to reach someone, a bright light came peeking over the horizon from the direction she had just come from. It couldn’t have belonged to a car but whatever it was that approached her was fast and loud as all hell. She held her breath as she watched it getting bigger, brighter, closer. This was the only driver she’d seen the whole night and she was equal parts hopeful and horrified of just what it could be. After all, what kind of person would be out driving at this hour on a weekday?

She forgot about the telephone as she followed this strange light until it was close enough to blot out all the darkness. It blinded her for a moment but that thunderous rumble soon settled to a pur and it stopped on the other side of the road from her. When her eyes adjusted to the brightness she realised it was a motorcycle, thin and lean and silver.

Its rider propped himself against the ground on one long leg clad in blue jeans and reached into his pocket. He was tall and slender, his figure swathed in shadows, his motions simple but relaxed and almost elegant.

“It doesn’t work,” he said as he lit a cigarette. “Been broken for a while now.”

The flash of flame from his zippo lighter gave her a hint of his face. He was young, perhaps even younger than her, with full pink lips and a slight stubble, soft blue eyes, and a sprinkle of dirt like freckles on his face. There was a wildness to him and an air of gentleness as well, but his jacket was a dark denim and thick with patches, symbols that probably meant something to him — he must’ve belonged to some sort of “club”. She didn’t know much about bikers aside from what she read about them in the papers, but they’d always seemed to be a bunch of layabouts. Aside from drinking far too much and smoking she knew they got into trouble with the law, had fights, caused accidents, and were generally dangerous to be around.

“I’m… just trying to get to town,” she said in a wary voice.

“Well, I’m headed that way.”

She said nothing, her hand still frozen on the telephone.

“Want a ride?”

It was a tempting offer but one that made her shiver. She’d never been around a man like that, never even exchanged words with one, and everything that she expected from his kind — rudeness, lewdness, and a bad attitude — was suspiciously absent from him. He looked at her with those soft eyes, his long leg braced against the road, and waited. She should have accepted his offer, she should have just gotten on his bike and wrapped her arms around him, but… she couldn’t.

“No, thank you.”

He kept on smoking quietly and looked her up and down much as she’d done with him. She wondered what he saw… She was probably a pathetic sight and a strange kind of person to come across in such a place. When his eyes finally left her figure they strayed across the wilderness. There was nothing around them for miles, they both knew that, and other cars wouldn’t be around that road for hours.

“You know how far away you are?” he asked, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

“I’ll be fine.”

“It’s a long walk.”

“I don’t want to…” She was about to say she didn’t want to ride all the way back with a stranger but instead said, “trouble you.”

He didn’t react at first, keeping that air of stillness about him that made her wonder what he thought. But after a few moments, he nodded and dropped the cigarette, crushed it underneath his boot, and with a leisurely motion mounted his bike once more and revved the engine up. Before she could say another word he’d already sped into the distance and left only a cloud of dust behind.

She almost felt sorry to see him go. Almost felt guilty too… She didn’t want her distrust of him to be so apparent or to cause offence, no matter what kind of a person he was. But she told herself he must’ve been a dangerous man and that she was better off alone than riding back to town with him. Well, she wouldn’t be riding back with anybody now… The telephone line was dead, just as he’d said. The wire must’ve been disconnected somewhere.

She wanted to cry. Instead, she began to walk once more, trudging through the dark.

The sky was as black as a curtain cast across a silent stage and against it lit from below the pale lights of interspersed lamps. The roaring of the bike got slowly lost in the road that lay before her and soon only her steps echoed to remind her of how alone she was. She watched the small light of the rider fade and hugged herself against the cold, holding the purse to her chest as if it could protect her. Her feet were hurting so much she worried they were bleeding and she considered taking them off until she looked down at the road and its uneven dirty tar. She closed her eyes even as she kept on walking, too tired to gaze out at the same old nothingness again.

But then she heard a roar floating on the wind and felt a tremble in her chest as if an earthquake was approaching, and when she opened her eyes again she saw that lone light making its way back to her. He seemed to ride back faster than he did as he was leaving and he reached her in no time at all. She slowed down to a stop and so did he, parking right beside her.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward, boyish way. “Look, I’m sorry if I scared you earlier. But I can’t just leave you out here. You sure you don’t want to —”

“Alright,” she said, her voice already weak and weary. She was hungry and cold and scared that she’d never make it back to town that night. Too scared to refuse his help a second time. “Just… just get me to the edge of town. I can make my own way home from there.”

If he was surprised at how quickly she accepted now, he didn’t show it. He simply moved closer to the front of his seat and made space for her behind him.

She took a deep breath and approached him carefully as if he rode a beast, not something made of metal. It looked solid and precariously thin at once and yet he straddled it confidently. The saddle looked just big enough for two. She hopped on as best she could and tried to keep her legs together but when he looked at her over his shoulder he shook his head and laughed.

“Legs on either side,” he said. “You’ll fall off if you ride like that.”

“But, my skirt…”

He looked up and down her legs and she tried not to read too much into the way his eyes had darkened.

“Roll it up,” he said in a low and soothing voice. “Don’t worry. I won’t look.”

She held her breath as she rolled her skirt up high enough so that she could throw her other leg over the side. He waited while she settled into the position and planted her feet firmly.

“Ready? Hang on,” he said as he revved the engine up. “I’ll go real slow, alright?”

“A-alright…” she said as she placed her hands timidly around his waist.

But he didn’t go slow, at least not by her standards.

It was completely different to riding in a car, more visceral and real with no windows to protect her. She let out a little scream and clung to his body more tightly than she meant to, eyes falling shut, legs tightening around his bike. He smelled of gasoline and metal and several days’ worth of sweat cooled down by the chilly autumn night but he felt so solid in her arms, so firm and steady, even as the world flashed by. Eventually, she was brave enough to rest her cheek against his back and opened her eyes to look at the vacant countryside. It was a little frightening, as she expected, but peaceful too. As she fisted her hands in his jacket, right over his heart, she tried to peek over his shoulder but could just see the side of his face, focused and relaxed, and the white circle of the headlight. Somehow, that was enough for her. His hair tickled her forehead, feeling softer than it had any right to be, and she found herself smiling. There was something base and ancient in the way he smelled, the way he spoke, even in the way he moved. It was as if he had in him the blood-memory of an ancient Knight on armoured steed galloping alone and steadfast through the fields and woods of untamed lands.

The outskirts of town were much tamer than that, however, and before long they could see the faint lights of the outermost buildings, squalid flats, and blinking advertisements. When he started slowing down she felt herself breathe a sigh of relief. It must’ve tickled the back of his neck because he bent his head forward as if to get away — or to ask for more.

“Where are we?” she asked once the noise of the motorcycle died down.

“Marshal Avenue,” he said, easing the bike to the side of the road.

She didn’t know exactly where that was, but she guessed they were on the other side of town from where she lived. All along the street were boarded-up shops, derelict flats, and liquor stores. Across from where he parked was a building that looked to be about a hundred years old. She could hardly fathom walking home at that hour, especially through a neighbourhood like that, but it was better than being in the middle of nowhere.

“Well, thank you. For the ride.”

He lit another cigarette and dismounted the bike, rolling his broad shoulders to unwind. She got off quickly, scrambling to cover her legs in the crumpled skirt before he turned around and saw her. He gave her a look over his shoulder when he heard her fussing and slowly turned around.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

“Yeah, I… I can walk from here.”

He looked at her and stayed quiet but there was something in his eyes behind that veil of smoke that made her curious about what he had to say. He simply nodded and turned toward that old building behind him. She hugged herself and looked up and down the street, waiting for him to say anything — to ask for money, to make fun of her for thinking she could make it home, to make a pass at her…

“Well, good night,” she said.

And as soon as she started walking away he spoke to her again.

“Hey, it’s kinda late. They got rooms upstairs.”

“What?” she asked, turning on her heels a bit unsteadily.

“Owner knows me,” he shrugged, crushing the cigarette beneath his boot and immediately lighting up another. “Could get you one for cheap.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to another and looked around pretending to think… but her eyes kept coming back to him. He puffed quietly away and gazed at her with no design behind those clear blue eyes, looking just as uncertain and awkward as she felt standing in the middle of the street. She didn’t want to trust him but a part of her responded in the same way that she did when she saw a homeless puppy.

“You mean, a room of my own?”

“Yeah.”

She looked from him to the large building again.

He could probably tell that she was torn because he helpfully supplied, “They got food too. Hungry?”

She was. It had been over twelve hours since she’d eaten or had anything to drink.

“I kind of am.”

“Me too,” he said. “Come on.”

[oceantruffle]

hotline

Characters - reader x Lando Norris

Location - I know Miami doesn't have any mountains but here I just felt like it so just go with it lol

summary - after being up and celebrating the whole night, you and Lando see the sunrise together.

A/N - It would be so nice if I had uploaded it before three days but I was very sleep deprived and the fact that I was in the middle of a forest for 4 days. anyways happy reading ✨

[y/n - your name]

Third Person's POV -

"I was meant to fly but Zak just told me we fly tomorrow so I'm not going to sleep. I'm going all the way. I might have more than just a scratch on my nose tomorrow, so I don't care, but I'll enjoy my time. This only happens once when you're taking your first win. It's nice to do it here in Miami,"

This was enough for you to know that the night is going to be absolutely crazy and wild. And you were very sure that none of you were gonna board the flight in one piece.

You were beyond the clouds. This was a feeling that no one could describe in mere words. The absolute bliss on Lando's face was ethereal. You could watch just him for eternity as he soaked up the sun on the podium. You were smiling so hard for so long seeing him this happy and you didn't realised that until your cheeks started hurting.

'I DID IT!' he had said holding the trophy towards you when he got back to the driver's room.

'YES!!YES YOU FUCKING DID!!' you said as you hugged him over the shoulders.

After 6 hours of clubbing and celebrating this sweet win with your boyfriend you had decided to go to a mountain top, alone. Maybe it was the alcohol which made the decision. You were more sober than him though. It was stupid. But nevertheless here you were now, sitting in the peaceful silence of the forest.

His head was in your lap and he could barely open his eyes. The alcohol was very heavy on his eyes. You both were freezing. Maybe not him since he had a jacket on but you definitely were cold.

You let your hand run through his soft curly hairs. A little chirp above in the tree got your attention. The stars in the sky above you had been staring had started disappearing. The dreamy dark night was filling with beautiful hopeful sunlight. That's when you realised it was morning. So it did happen. You were very happy for Lando. There are many more to come but wining this first one was a different feeling.

Lando was kind off in a passed out state but he was still very active and he quickly jolts his head when he hears little sniffs. Your tears fell onto his forehead as looks up to you.

'y/n?' he asked worriedly.

and when you sobbed a little louder he quickly sits back up to face you. 

'Baby?' he frowns. He got worried and all the exhaustion & sleep deprivation wasn't helping him much.

'What why are you crying?' he managed to frame a question,

'I don't know!' you sobbed.

'hey?' he said, his large hands cupping your face.

'I'm proud of you Lan. I'm so proud of you!' you smiled as tears rolled down your cheeks.

'Come here.' he said pulling you in his arms.

'Stop crying.' he soothed you.

'Please stop crying! haven't you already cried enough?' he said, now his own voice had started to break.

'Y/n?' he chuckled.

You look up to him to see his face and you see tears threatening to leave his eyes.

'I'm sorry! we're in the middle of nowhere, you're hungover, our phones are dead and i'm crying!' you shivered a little as cool breeze passes through.

'I love you y/n' he says.

'You deserve this Lando, You deserve the world..' you smile at him teary eyed.

'Thank you love!' he says softly resting his forehead against yours.

He wiped off your tears and kisses you on the forehead. You snuggled into him once again and watched the sun as it rises from the horizon.

There were countless times when you were up all night partying and eventually pass out in the morning. But this. This morning had something different in it. It had the feeling of glory, the joy and celebrations. You wanted to stay like that forever, in his arms. It was perfect and it wasn't a dream.

__________________

[word count - 875]

not edited

[solaris-amethyst]

💫Would you choose him over me?💫

✨Pairing: non idol!Yeosang x afab!reader ✨Prompt: Could I request a jealous Yeosang because his gf!reader spends a lot of time playing acnh with Seonghwa? Only if you want of course 😊 ✨Requested by 🐼 anon🫶🏻 ✨Word count: 2.1k ✨Genre: angst, jealousy, Yeosang becomes a little insecure, partners au, fluff at the end ☀️Authors note: Hello💓 thank you so much for sending in a request! I tried really hard writing the jealousy part and angst part of this fic! Thank you for entrusting me with that and I hope you enjoyed this one shot!🫶🏻

Yeosang didn't know it was possible for him to feel jealousy. He thought that was something beyond him but recently he has realized that he's gotten jealous. Jealous over your relationship with his friend Seonghwa.

Wooyoung and San had been the ones to mention it to him that he sounded jealous every time he spoke about your relationship with Seonghwa. Claiming that he would act a bit different and pout when he mentioned you were hanging out together.

He had denied it at the moment but when he had gotten home to your shared apartment and heard the laughter from both you and Seonghwa, bonding over Animal Crossing New Horizon, he had felt a surge of what could only be jealousy bubbling in his chest over the fact that the two of you were sitting close to each other.

You looked incredibly happy chatting with his friend and a part of him wondered if you were as happy with him as you were with Hwa.

Shaking away those thoughts as he went and sat down behind you, bringing you into his lap so he could back hug you on the couch.

"Hi babe! Did you have fun with Woo and San today?" You questioned, turning around and giving him a little kiss on the cheek which resulted in a small smile from your boyfriend.

"Mhmm I did. Are the two of you having fun?" He asked as he gave a nod to Seonghwa as his way of saying hello, who nodded back with a bright smile of his own.

Would you find his smile prettier than his own Yeosang wondered.

"We have! We've been showing each other our islands and been fishing together!" Seonghwa said, holding up his switch so he could see Hwas character and yours standing together fishing.

He nodded and gave a forced smile towards his friend. He truly shouldn't be jealous or worried, he doesn't play the game the two of you are playing so why was he feeling something bubble in his chest seeing the two characters looking cute next to each other?

"Are you okay baby?" You ask, his behavior a bit different from what you were used to. He was usually all bright and smiley and loved to listen to whatever you had to tell him even if it meant he'd spend 4 hours listening to you talk about cat videos you had seen earlier in the day.

"It's nothing. I'm a bit tired from hanging out with Woo and San." He fake yawns and cuddles closer. "Don't mind me I'll just rest for a little while." He says whilst closing his eyes, leaning his head on your shoulder and holding you closer to him.

"Okay if you say so. You sure you don't wanna go to the bedroom and rest there?" You ask and he just waves you off.

What you don't know is that Yeosang doesn't want to leave. Because what if you end up liking Seonghwa more than him?

So he decided then and there that sitting here cuddling you from the back while the two of you play that dumb game of yours will be the perfect way of making sure you won't.

You and Seonghwa continued to play the game together, laughing and having fun until it was time for him to go home and for you and Yeosang to go to bed. After hugging your friend goodbye the two of you did your evening routines together in silence, enjoying each other's presence.

Yeosang was extra cuddly that night which surprised you.

"Oh wow do I have a little koala next to me?" You joke lightly, giving his cheek a little kiss causing his beautiful face to scrunch up cutely.

"I've missed you that's all." He pouts looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes before sneaking in a little kiss from you causing a smile to blossom on your face.

A smile Yeosang adored so much.

"Well I'm not going anywhere don't worry." You tell him snuggling closer before falling asleep in his arms. Your boyfriend ends up hugging you throughout the entire night.

The next few days had been hell for Yeosang.

You and Seonghwa continued to spend time together bonding over the game he had no relations to. You had gone to a popup store together, gone to the lego store together and even went to an animal crossing cafe together.

Usually he'd never care about these things but now he wanted to be the one doing all of these things with you.

Posting cute pictures online and having to hear about it when the day was over and he'd ask what you had done that day did nothing for his growing jealousy and the slight insecurities of that you might fall for Seonghwa and stop loving him.

Why couldn't he like Animal Crossing like you two did?

He tried not to let his thoughts get to him, but a part of him started to worry that you might end up choosing Seonghwa over him. Especially when you spent so much time together.

And sometimes he swore the two of you would be giggling over something and the moment he entered the room you'd quiet down. It made his thoughts run rampant some days and he hated it. He also hated how he wasn't sure how to bring it up to you.

He didn't want to sound like he was accusing you of something when in reality he was just scared of loosing you. The one person whom he loves so much it sometimes hurt. The one person who brings so much joy to his life.

And today the jealousy and fear was bubbling a little bit extra in his chest after seeing the pictures Hwa had posted earlier of the two of you on instagram.

"Hey baby I'm gonna go grocery shopping! Do you wanna come with me?" You ask as you put on a cardigan and Yeosang can't stop the scoff before it escapes him.

"Why don't you ask Seonghwa if he wants to go with you?" He asks which makes you stop what you're doing looking back in confusion before going to find him in the living room.

"What?"

"Yeah, why don't you go to Seonghwa instead?"

He feels petty right now and you look so confused at what he's saying. He starts feeling a bit bad, perhaps he should have spoken to you he thinks when he sees your face.

"Why would I go to him? I'd wanna go with you? You're my boyfriend are you not?" you ask trying to figure out why he's acting the way he is.

"Why wouldn't you wanna go with him? You've been with him an awful lot these days." You can see your boyfriend pout a little which causes you to walk up to him.

"Okay what is going on? Are you jealous over the fact that I've been hanging out with Seonghwa?" You ask and he looks away from you. Confirming what you had just asked to be true.

"So what if I have been jealous?? You guys have been hanging out all the time since bonding over that game. Going on what seems like dates and posting it all over instagram." He vents, clearly frustrated looking at you with glossy eyes.

"Why haven't you told me you feel like th-" You start but he cuts you off.

"And you guys seem to have so much fun playing together and I don't blame you Seonghwa is like amazing and perfect in every way shape and form. You giggle and talk to each other and when I enter the room you two quiet down as if you're hiding something from me." He says and your eyes widen.

You and Seonghwa had been hiding something from him, but not what Yeosang seems to be thinking. Seonghwa had been helping you to find a bracelet that would fit him, so you could gift it to your boyfriend on your anniversary. The two of you had done your best to hide that from him.

But apparently you two had not been doing a very good job.

"Yeosang."

"Would you choose him over me?" He asks, biting his lip fearing your answer and you look at him with eyes filled with sadness.

Not over the accusation but the fact that your boyfriend had not felt like he could come and talk about this with you when it had oh so clearly bothered him.

"Yeosang baby, I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say okay?" You say carefully taking his hands into yours, allowing him to refuse if he so would like.

He doesn't. His hand stays still in yours and you let your thumb carefully glide over his hand in a comforting gesture.

"I would never choose Seonghwa over you. It is not Seonghwa I love but Kang Yeosang. It is not Seonghwa I think about during the day but you. You are so perfect and amazing in my eyes Sangie. I admit I have spent a lot of time with Hwa but that is not because I love him the way I love you. It's because we share a common interest. I am sorry that I made you feel like I might have had feelings for him by spending so much time with him. It is you that I love. I love you. The reason we've been giggling and talking and quieting down when you enter the room is because he's been helping me pick out a present for you but I realize now how that would have looked from your point of view." You told him, not looking away from him once as you spoke to him sincerely.

"Oh..." Yeosang felt dumb now, of course you wouldn't choose someone else over him the way he had thought. It had been you who had asked him out all those months ago when you two first became a couple.

He felt the jealousy simmer away and the fear transforming into something akin towards shame. Shame he had doubted you, his girlfriend and your relationship.

"How long have you felt like this?" You ask squeezing his hand.

"Since that day I came home and clung to you on the couch after hanging out with Woo and San." He admitted and your heart broke a little.

"Oh Yeosangie, how I wish you would have come to me earlier to talk about this. But you know what, I want you to know that It's you I love and want to spend time with. You're so perfect in my eyes and I wish you could see how much I think about how lucky I am to have you as my boyfriend. How about to make up for the lost time we spend the entire week together, just you and me, doing whatever you want to do." You tell him, hoping he'd find that idea good.

He nods before bringing you in for a hug.

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I just got scared. You seemed to have so much fun with him." He admits blinking away the tears of shame threatening to fall from his gorgeous brown eyes.

"While I have been having fun with him you should know I have even more fun when I am with you. You can ask Seonghwa himself, I've talked his ear off about you and how much I adore you." You tell him, kissing his cheek.

"Wait really?" He looks almost baffled that you would have talked about him to others causing you to chuckle.

"Yeah, you're my amazing boyfriend, of course I'd want to tell others about you." You say with a wink.

Yeosang groans feeling how he's been so ridiculous being jealous over something that he could have resolved quickly and not have it get to the point where he thought you'd leave him for Seonghwa.

"God I feel like such an idiot right now." He groans and you chuckle

"Well then you're my idiot. My idiot whom I love and gonna spend time cuddle with and tell him all the ways I love him." you tell him.

"Cuddling would be nice."

He admits as you drags him to the couch to cuddle, already planning on giving him the amount of kisses he deserves while chasing away all the insecurities and doubts he might still have left.

The groceries you wanted to buy forgotten for now but that’s okay because you got something much more important to do which included chatting your boyfriends ear off about all the things you adore about him.

Starting with:

”I’d choose you in every universe my love.”

[reallyhardydraws]

just beyond the far horizon lies a waiting world unknown like the dawn its beauty beckons with a wonder all its own!

my big the lord of the rings: a musical tale piece! tried to include all the principle cast members and their instruments (though many of them play multiple instruments too!) here's a crop of my particular faves, the 4 main hobbits as well:

please full view for details! tysm! ✨💍🌄

🌻commissions open!🌻

[moonselune]

Would you ever consider doing an Astarion/f!reader/Gale love triangle Drabble or one shot? (Astarion endgame maybe oop?) if not dw!!!!✨

This is tooth rottingly sweet, I was a bit unsure about this one because my immediate instinct when there's a love triangle is to just let them all kiss lmao

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x f!reader x Gale

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The camp was a place of tension, not just because of the ever-present threats lurking in the shadows, but also because of the complicated dynamics between its members. Amidst the flickering campfires and whispered conversations, a love triangle had quietly taken root, drawing you, Astarion, and Gale into its tangled web.

Gale had always been the romantic, the one to sweep you off your feet with his eloquence and charm. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he approached you with a gentle smile, his eyes twinkling with the promise of magic and wonder.

“May I have a moment of your time?” he asked, his voice as smooth as silk.

You nodded, curiosity piqued. Gale led you to a secluded spot by the river, where he conjured a shimmering illusion of stars and galaxies swirling above you. The sight was breathtaking, each twinkling light reflecting in his eyes as he recited a poem he had written just for you.

His words were like honey, sweet and mesmerizing. You felt yourself being drawn into the enchantment of the moment, the magic he wielded wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Gale’s ability to captivate and awe was unparalleled, and for a time, you were lost in the beauty of his world.

Astarion watched from a distance, his keen eyes taking in every detail. He had to admit, Gale was a formidable rival. The way he could charm with his words and dazzle with his magic was impressive. But Astarion knew that sweet words and illusions would not be enough to win your heart; he needed to show you something raw, something real. And it wasn't just because he had already played that card with you - definitely not.

The next day, as the group ventured out to face a band of marauding gnolls, Astarion saw his opportunity. The battle was fierce, with gnashing teeth and snarling beasts lunging at every turn. But Astarion was relentless, his movements swift and precise as he cut through the enemies with lethal grace.

He fought with a ferocity that took even the gnolls by surprise, his eyes never straying far from you. With each foe he felled, he moved closer, his intention clear. When the last of the gnolls lay defeated, their bodies formed an unintentional pattern on the ground—a shape that, with a bit of imagination, resembled a heart.

Breathing heavily, Astarion approached you, his expression softening as he took your hand. He pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks to you.”

Astarion’s lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes were serious. “I’d fight a thousand battles if it meant keeping you safe.”

As he led you back to camp, his hand never leaving yours, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words. There was something undeniably real about the way he cared for you, something that went beyond mere words and magic.

Back at the camp, Gale watched your return with a resigned smile. He approached the two of you, his demeanor calm and gracious. “Astarion,” he began, his tone respectful, “I have to give credit where it’s due. Your bravery and skill today were remarkable.”

Astarion inclined his head, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you, Gale.”

Gale turned to you, his expression gentle but resolute. “I can see where your heart lies, and I respect your choice. It seems Astarion is the one who truly holds your affections.”

You looked between the two men, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection for both. “Gale, you’ve been wonderful,” you said softly. “Your kindness and your magic have touched me deeply, I will never forget it.”

Gale smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I’m glad I could share those moments with you. But I think it’s clear who your heart belongs to.”

With that, he stepped back, conceding with grace. Astarion pulled you closer, his eyes shining with a mix of triumph and tenderness. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You’re mine, and I intend to cherish you every day.”

And in that moment, you knew that despite the complexities and the rivalries, you had found something genuine and profound in Astarion’s love—a love that would stand the test of time and adversity.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Poor Gale, maybe he should have mentioned his practiced tongue a bit more, hope you liked it! - Seluney

[perseabeth]

Milo’s Lyre

this is a one shot written about @anotheroceanid amazing fic titled When the Horizon Bloom, read it on AO3 you will enjoy it very much and get your heart broken in the most beautiful way possible. I published another one shot about this fic titled “What If” you can read it too- I got this idea last night during my angst hour with @anotheroceanid, and after few tears, and of course her inspiration, I decided that you should cry with us too! - i do not own the idea of the fic and i certainly do not own any character, all belong to the great author of the fic that made me cry more than my college curriculum enjoy ✨

Apollo no longer remembers how the dream began. He isn't even certain how he can dream at all. He once believed that gods were immune to such mortal experiences, but ever since his love vanished, dreams and nightmares have haunted him in every stolen moment he tries to delve into slumber. This dream, however, was different.

It was serene. Apollo sat upon a rock, a glittering sea stretching before him. His heart ached with a profound sorrow. The sea... How could he ever gaze upon the ocean again without seeing her eyes? How could he ever look at the waves and not remember the way they mirrored her gaze?

Sometimes, he would embark on frantic quests, searching for the sea that truly captured the color of her eyes, just to glimpse those sea-green eyes once more.

How long had it been? Seven years? For gods, time was an irrelevant concept, a fleeting notion in the face of immortality. Normally, seven years would pass as quickly as seven minutes. But these seven years... These years had stretched into millennia. He never knew time could crawl so slowly, could torture so mercilessly.

Apollo cradled his golden lyre, the instrument that once brought her such joy. He remembered the first time she heard him play, the radiant sparkle in her eyes, the breathtaking smile that stole his soul forever. His fingers, delicate and reverent, brushed against the strings, coaxing a serene melody from the lyre. Each note floated through the air like a whisper, and even the restless sea stilled its waves, entranced by the music.

Minutes passed in this harmonious reverie until Apollo felt a presence behind him—a presence so calm, so peaceful, carrying the unmistakable scent of the sea. Hope surged through him. Could it be his love? Could he finally see her in his dreams?

He turned his head slowly, afraid to wake from this fragile hope. As he did, his eyes met sea-green ones, and his heart melted, his soul awakening. Percy’s eyes… But something wasn’t right. The figure before him was a young boy, no older than six or seven, with golden curls that framed his face in a halo of sunlight. The boy was breathtakingly beautiful. Apollo's heart clenched as he took in the boy’s features. They reminded him of himself in one moment, and then of his love in the next, as if he were a perfect blend of them both.

Apollo's heart clenched. This boy… he looked like the son he might have had if Percy were still here. Shock rendered him speechless as he gazed into those familiar eyes. It was as if the child embodied the essence of their love, a living testament to a future that had been cruelly taken from them.

The boy stood cautiously, studying Apollo with a curious intensity. His golden locks tumbled over his forehead, and he wore a simple chiton that only enhanced his cherubic innocence.

“Can I see this, sir?” The boy’s voice was soft and melodic, yet firm and confident—far beyond his six years. His eyes darted to the lyre in Apollo’s hands, and Apollo finally realized what the boy wanted.

But Apollo was too shocked to speak. The boy stood silently, waiting for Apollo's response. When he finally understood, he nodded. “Of course.”

The boy took careful steps toward Apollo. As he stood before him, the sun god wondered who had raised this child. Most children snatched what they desired without hesitation; they didn’t wait politely for anything. Yet, this boy's sea-green eyes looked up at him with pure innocence and curiosity. He bent slightly to study the lyre, his hands kept respectfully to himself as if he were afraid to touch it.

Apollo realized the boy wouldn't touch the lyre unless he gave it to him.

“Here,” he extended the lyre to the boy. “You can hold it.

The boy hesitated, shaking his head. “No, no, it must be precious.” His voice was filled with a respectful reverence that belied his age, making Apollo's heart beats with admiration.

Apollo gave the young boy a gentle smile. “No, it will be fine here,” he said, pushing the lyre into the boy’s hands. The boy took it with utmost care, his eyes filling with wonder as he studied it. He looked at the lyre as if it were the eighth wonder of the world, his interest and amazement clear.

“Can I ask how you made it, sir? It is amazingly beautiful,” the boy asked, his curiosity shining with pure beauty and innocence.

Apollo smiled fondly, remembering how the lyre came into his possession. “My brother stole my cattle and gave this to me,” he chuckled.

The boy chuckled too, hiding his mouth with his small hands. “This reminds me of a story Mama tells me, about the sun god and the messenger of the gods.”

Apollo froze. The boy’s interest shifted back to the lyre, while Apollo tried to process the millions of questions racing through his mind. His mother told him stories? Apollo was about to ask more when the boy looked up and spoke in his soft, melodic voice. “If you don’t mind… can you,” the boy paused, choosing his words carefully, “can you teach me how to play it? The melody you played was beautiful.”

Apollo, still dumbfounded, watched the boy. “I think I figured out how to make it, but I want to play it for Mama. She seems sad lately, and she loves melodies so much. She sings me lullabies, but I don’t know any to sing for her. So maybe, maybe I can play her something nice that makes her smile.”

Questions swirled around Apollo’s mind. How could a child so young speak with such confidence and wisdom? But the most pressing question came to his lips. “Where is your mother?”

The boy, still focused on the lyre, answered, “On an island.”

“Where is the island?” Apollo asked.

The boy smiled as if Apollo had asked something silly, his smile bright and peaceful. “In the sea,” he said, then paused. “But Mama says the sea is dangerous.”

Apollo looked at the boy, confused. The boy’s answers seemed to reveal everything and nothing at the same time. Dangerous sea? He couldn’t be Percy’s son. Apollo's shoulders slumped. He couldn’t be Percy’s son. Perhaps his mind was creating illusions, offering a glimpse of a future he could never have, mixing him and Percy together to create the child Apollo had always dreamed Percy would carry.

Apollo looked into the boy’s eyes—Percy’s eyes—deciding that maybe, just maybe, he could live this dream for as long as it lasted. For as long as this dream allows him, he wants to imagine that this, indeed, is the child he created with his love. He held the boy’s hand, guiding him on where to place his fingers on the lyre. “Here, let me teach you” he said softly, positioning the small fingers with gentle precision on the lyre’s strings.

The boy was, in fact, the eighth wonder of the world, Apollo thought, as he looked at the young boy whose golden locks glowed in the sunlight.

Once—that was all the instruction the boy needed to create the most beautiful symphony Apollo had ever heard. The boy’s fingers danced over the strings with an innate skill, plucking and strumming as if he had been born for this. The melody flowed seamlessly, each note a shimmering thread weaving through the air, enchanting everything around them.

Apollo smiled fondly at the boy, who was also in amazement, his radiant smile outshining even the sun. The sea sparkled with the boy’s joy, and the sun, feeling almost humbled, began to set beyond the horizon, casting a golden portrait over the world.

Suddenly, the boy stopped and carefully extended the lyre back to Apollo. “I have to wake up now. Mama will wake up soon, and I can’t let her do things alone.”

Apollo’s brows knotted in confusion. “Where are we now?”

The boy smiled brightly. “We are dreaming, of course.”

Apollo took the lyre, looking at it before turning back to the boy. “You can have it.”

The young boy shook his head, making his golden locks jiggle. “It is a gift from your brother. It is precious.” He smiled, a smile that warmed Apollo’s soul, his beautiful sea-green eyes glowing with kindness. Apollo didn't want to wake up. He just wanted to see Percy’s eyes a little longer. Even if it was a hallucination, he wanted to remember those eyes longer.

The boy smiled at Apollo as he began to turn his head. “Thank you for helping me make Mama happy. Next time, when we meet, I’ll try to teach you something too.” And with that, the boy started walking away, slowly dissolving into the dream's fabric.

It didn't take long for Apollo to lose consciousness of the dream. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his bed on Olympus, the morning light casting a gentle glow through his window.

Apollo sat on his bed, his chamber unchanged, Olympus glowing just as it always had. But his heart was heavy with a sorrow that even the gods would struggle to bear.

A sad smile graced Apollo’s lips—a smile that held an ocean of pain, a pain too deep for mortals to fathom. The Fates had always been cruel to him, but now even his own mind seemed to conspire in their cruelty, conjuring hallucinations to torment him.

A young boy, the eighth wonder of the world—a boy he could have had if Percy were still with him. If only she were here, somewhere beside him. He was certain she would have adored this boy, cherished him with all her heart. But he was not real.. And his Percy was not here.

Apollo rubbed his eyes, longing to wake up, to return to his duties, to mourn a girl whose disappearance remained a haunting mystery. And to mourn an imaginary son, whom he was certain he would never see again.

—————————

Gaea’s Island

Percy was puzzled by her son’s urgency that morning. After helping her with his brothers, he dashed outside, claiming to have something important to attend to.

She didn’t pry too much into Milo’s affairs, trusting that whatever he was up to, he knew how to avoid trouble, unlike her eldest, Hector. As long as it was Milo, she assured herself, he would be fine.

But Milo had been unusually preoccupied for days now. Whenever Percy found him, he would hastily hide something behind his back, claiming it was important. Percy didn’t dwell on it, assuming it was a surprise he didn’t want her to see. She smiled at the thought.

Then, she heard it—a beautiful melody that froze her in place. For a moment, she thought it was a dream, a hallucination conjured by her own longing. an image of a man with the most beautiful sky-blue eyes, creating serene melodies for her suddenly occupied her mind.. But the sound of footsteps snapped her back to reality. She followed the sound, Hector and Luke trailing behind her, until she suddenly stopped.

On the grass sat a young boy with golden locks, his sea-green eyes shining with joy as he looked up at her. Her Milo. In his hands, a wooden instrument created the most enchanting melody she had ever heard since she arrived to this island

It didn’t take long for Percy to realize what her son had made. Her heart swelled with oceans of emotions, pain, sorrow, pride and love as she beheld her precious Milo, crafting a lyre with his own small hands.

Percy approached Milo, her heart overflowing with a mixture of confusion and love. A single tear traced its way down her cheek as Hector and Luke stood nearby, mesmerized by the beautiful sound emanating from Milo's creation.

Milo looked up at her with a bright smile, but confusion clouded his features as he furrowed his brows. “You don’t like it, Mama? I made it for you.”

Without hesitation, Percy rushed forward, enveloping Milo in a tight embrace, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love it… I love it so much.”

“Then why are you crying?” Milo asked, puzzled.

“They're tears of happiness, my love,” Percy whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Tears of happiness—tears of memories, pain, and pride. Tears of many things.

Milo pulled away, showing Percy the delicate wooden instrument he had crafted. “Here, let me show you more,” he said eagerly, his fingers deftly plucking at the strings.

As Milo played, Percy couldn’t help but notice how he resembled his father in that moment. Not a mere version, like Luke, but a reflection—a radiant embodiment of his father's spirit.

Then it struck her—how did Milo know about the lyre? It was Hermes who created it, nd given it to Apollo, later becoming Apollo's symbol. How could Milo know exactly what a lyre looked like? She had always believed that their father lived on in their souls, but she never imagined it would manifest in such a tangible way.

Puzzled, Percy looked at her son. “How did you learn to make this?”

Milo beamed at her, his eyes sparkling with the wisdom of the universe. “In my dream, of course, Mama.”

The answer did little to quell Percy’s bewilderment. She watched as her son proudly displayed his creation, insisting that she should smile because he had made it for her happiness. He even taught his brothers how to hold it so they could all bring joy to their mother.

She watched them take turns playing, each displaying a pure talent they hadn’t known they possessed

Her Milo, her precious children, and her precious lost love…

A few days later, the lyre disappeared from the island, as if it had never existed before.

[yuff7e]

hii!! I just recently came across your writing and I love them?!?! could you please write about katsuki with a trans man reader that has a quirk that gives them wolf ears and a tail?? I know this is like reaaaally specific but ssshhhhh 😚

— 🐾 annon

˚₊‧꒰ა✨ 𝐏𝐀𝐖𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 ✨ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

— hii 🐾 anon!! i love this, it’s so cute!! i kinda let my creativity flow with this, so i hope you enjoy. i love katsuki requests guys, they’re the best!! also, for everyone wondering i do write for trans reader!! so if any of you have any trans reader requests send them in, i’ll try my best to portray it!! :) ఌ︎

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝

katsuki bakugo

♬♪ -> lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı

you’d always known life would be challenging, but you never anticipated just how complex things would become. being a trans man in a society filled with quirks was one thing; having your quirk manifest wolf ears and a tail was another. it was both a gift and a curse, a part of you that you embraced yet found difficult to manage in social situations.

still, you persevered, determined to become a hero and make a difference. your journey led you to u.a. high school, where you met katsuki bakugo. known for his explosive temper and fierce determination, bakugo initially seemed like someone you’d struggle to get along with. but beneath his rough exterior, you saw a spark of something else – an unwavering sense of justice and an undeniable strength.

the first time you met bakugo, he barely glanced at you. it wasn’t until a training exercise forced you to work together that he took notice. you were in the middle of a simulated battle when your quirk activated, your wolf ears twitching and tail swishing as you dodged and attacked with agility and precision.

“hey, wolf-boy!” bakugo yelled, smirking. “think you can keep up?” you matched his smirk with one of your own. “i’m not the one falling behind, bakugo!”

from that moment on, a strange camaraderie developed between you. despite his harsh exterior, bakugo began to respect your abilities and the way you carried yourself. you, in turn, found his unyielding confidence and raw power inspiring. training together became a routine, each session pushing you to your limits and beyond.

one day, after a particularly grueling session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the training field, panting heavily. your ears twitched at the sound of footsteps approaching, and you looked up to see bakugo standing over you, a rare look of concern on his face.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice gruff. you nodded, wiping sweat from your brow. “yeah, just... a bit tired.” bakugo plopped down beside you, uncharacteristically silent for a moment. “you’re strong, you know that?” he said finally.

you blinked, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. “thanks, bakugo. that means a lot coming from you.” he grunted in response, staring out at the horizon. “what’s it like... having a quirk like yours?”

you shrugged, your tail curling around your leg. “it’s... complicated. it makes me stand out, which isn’t always easy. but it’s a part of who i am, and i’ve learned to embrace it.” bakugo nodded thoughtfully. “must’ve been tough.”

“yeah, but everyone’s got their struggles, right?” you replied, smiling softly. he looked at you then, his eyes searching yours. “you’ve got guts, wolf-boy. i respect that.”

over time, the bond between you and bakugo deepened. he became someone you could rely on, a pillar of strength and support. he never treated you differently because of who you were or your quirk, and that acceptance meant more to you than words could express.

one evening, as the sun set over u.a., you and bakugo sat on the rooftop, the city’s lights twinkling below. the air was crisp, your ears twitching at the sounds of the bustling city.

“hey,” bakugo said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “there’s something i need to tell you.” you turned to him, curiosity piqued. ��what is it?”

he hesitated, a rare moment of vulnerability crossing his features. “i... i care about you, [name]. more than i’ve cared about anyone in a long time.”

your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through your chest. “bakugo, i...” he cut you off, shaking his head. “let me finish. i don’t care what anyone else thinks. you’re strong, brave, and... you mean a lot to me. i just wanted you to know that.”

tears welled in your eyes, and you smiled through them. “i care about you too, bakugo. more than i can say.” he reached out, his hand finding yours. “we’ll face whatever comes together, alright? no matter what.” you squeezed his hand, feeling the truth in his words. “together.”

weeks turned into months, and your bond with bakugo only grew stronger. the two of you became an unstoppable team, complementing each other’s strengths and covering each other’s weaknesses. despite his gruff demeanor, bakugo showed a side of himself to you that few others ever saw – a side that was caring, protective, and deeply loyal.

one day, during a particularly intense training exercise, you found yourself pinned by a powerful attack. your body ached, and your vision blurred, but you refused to give up. through the haze, you saw bakugo charging towards you, his expression fierce and determined.

“hang in there, [name]!” he shouted, blasting the enemy away with a powerful explosion. you struggled to your feet, your ears twitching as you caught your breath. “thanks, bakugo. i won’t let you down.”

with renewed determination, you fought alongside him, your movements perfectly in sync. the battle was fierce, but together, you emerged victorious. as the dust settled, you looked at bakugo, your heart swelling with pride and gratitude.

“we did it,” you said, panting heavily. he nodded, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “damn right we did. you were amazing out there.” you blushed, your tail wagging slightly. “couldn’t have done it without you.”

as the days passed, you found yourself growing closer to bakugo in ways you never imagined. he became your confidant, your partner, and your best friend. the walls he had built around himself began to crumble, and you saw the depth of his emotions – his fears, his hopes, and his dreams.

one night, as you sat on the rooftop watching the stars, bakugo turned to you, his eyes filled with a rare softness. “[name], i... i’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

you looked at him, your heart pounding. “about what?”he took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “about us. about what we have. i don’t want to lose it. i don’t want to lose you.”

tears welled in your eyes, and you reached out to take his hand. “you won’t lose me, bakugo. i’m not going anywhere.”

he squeezed your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “good. because i... i love you, [name]. more than anything.” your heart soared, and you smiled through your tears. “i love you too, bakugo. with all my heart.”

he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the stars shone brightly above. in that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. with bakugo by your side, you were ready for anything.

[whosthere54]

It’s time for prison duo and promise rings chat.

Ignore the fact that I included the things in this I’m still in denial /lh/j

It’s not the best but I hope you enjoy reading it anyways <3

-=+=-

<Sherbertquake> Hey, are you busy?

<Centross> No, not at the moment. Why?

<Sherbertquake> I had something I wanted to show you. Meet me up on the Ice above your house?

<Centross> I’ll be there.

They sighed, putting their communicator back in their pocket and running a hand through their messy hair.

“It’ll be fine, yeah?” The things all murmured in agreement, some giving encouragement and some fueling their anxiety. Torn as always.

They reached into their other pocket to fidget with the ring.

“It’s just a promise, I don’t know why I’m so worried about it…” they mumble, pulling the ring out and turning it over in their hands.

It turned out okay. Better than they’d expected actually. They had a lot of time to make it as nice as possible in the world-port, but you can only do so much with Obsidian.

The ring itself was made out of obsidian, winding around some of the old Crystal shards from their wings. One Amethyst and one Gold. They were able to chip it down to make it look decent, though there were still rough edges. The things just said it made it better, clearly handmade. Others said it gave it ✨personality✨ or whatever that’s supposed to mean. The things particularly enjoyed the carving left on the inside, as if he’d even notice it.

“My Soul”

They’d thought about what to put in there a lot, bounding ideas off the empty corridors of the worldport before landing on that one.

They shook the doubts out of their head for the moment taking a breath and putting the ring back in their pocket. They grab their rockets and take off, taking a moment to ground themselves in the feeling of the cool evening air against their face, the feeling of flight sadly unfamiliar after their time in the worldport.

They landed on the snow, their landing now messy despite how much they’d worked to perfect it again. They heard the distant noise of rockets, and turned just as Centross landed beside them. Dark purple with bones rattling against each other as he landed.

“Hey Ic” He lightly hits their arm.

“Hi” they laugh softly batting his hand away. “Just wanted to show you somethin. You got rockets?” They pull their own back out as he nods.

“Okay. We’re gonna head straight…” they turn to face the edge of the mountain. “This way.” They point to where the sun was just visible beyond the horizon.

They fly for a bit, silence between them as they just breathe. Eventually, they reach another snowy area. They landed in an area they’d cleared beforehand. It was nothing fancy, the things suggested a lot of options but they’d agreed on stargazing. They’d set up just a small blanket, lanterns lighting up a small patch creating an area not covered in snow.

Soon enough, they’d settled down on the blanket. Just talking about anything and everything. It was nice, peaceful. It made them almost forget about the anxiety that caused their hands to continue to shake.

After a particularly long moment of calm silence, they say up, turning to him. “I did promise there was a reason I pulled you out here”

Centross smiled, “Oh what, it wasn’t just cause you wanted to spend time with me”

They laugh softly shaking their head. “It’s not like that, you know that.” They fidgeted with their gloves anxiously for a moment before they continued speaking.

“Look, I don’t know how I’m going to say any of this so bear with me okay?” They smile softly. “First, I want to preface this by saying you don’t have to take it. I’m not going to blame you if you don’t want it.”

The things scold them a moment, keeping themselves optimistic.

“With that said,” They pull out the ring from their pocket. “I do want to make a promise.” They fidget with the ring a moment before continuing.

“I don’t want to make this a big thing. I just made this because I thought it would be nice to have a physical reminder that I’m not going anywhere.”

They pause a moment, “You don’t have to take it, this isn’t something I want to force on you or anything like that and it’s not a long term commitment of any kind, no strings attached. It’s just a promise that I care, that you’re “my person” or something like that. That I’m not leaving no matter how much you want to get rid of me.”

They keep their eyes cast down, fidgeting with their hands and not once looking at Centross. After a moment, he carefully takes their hands in his. He lightly squeezed them taking the promise ring out of their hand to look at it before smiling moving to cup his hand against their face, leaning so their foreheads were pressed together.

“You’re an idiot, y’know that?” He murmurs softly, flipping the ring over in his hands again. He runs his finger lightly over the carving on the inside with a soft smile. “And a sap.”

They laugh, muttering a quiet “shut up” moving so their forehead was resting lightly against his shoulder. He hummed softly, moving to put the ring on his hand before carding fingers lightly through their hair.

They sit in silence for a bit, laying against each-other like that.

“You know I meant it when I said you are never alone, friend.” He murmured against their hair. “That’s not goin’ anywhere. I’m not goin’ anywhere Feather.” He laughs softly, “sadly, you’re stuck with me.”

They laughed with him.

They weren’t going to be alone. Not with him, not anymore. They were safe. His arms wrapped around them keeping them grounded, keeping them here.

With him they felt like they could be a person again. They could at-least try to be, if not for themselves for him.

After all, he doesn’t deserve a ghost.

-=+=-

Wow I really did make myself watch taking it down and cry while writing this. It’s fineee.

Hope you enjoy, make sure to drink some water, eat some food, take a break, and take any meds if you need to! You are loved <3

[astroa3h]

Marilyn Monroe: ✨ Venus Love Style Reading

Marilyn with her Venus in Aries, expressed love fiercely, with a passion always reaching for something more. She loved as she lived: deeply, sometimes to the point of being erratic, and with an honesty that was as inviting as it was frightening. Venus in the 9th House tells me she didn’t just fall into love; she dove headfirst into it with such unbridled enthusiasm that it carried even the most unwilling along with her. To her, love was somewhat of an exotic adventure.

The 28th degree in astrology is seen as a critical point, in degree theory it’s not only a Cancer degree, it’s a fame degree. For Marilyn, Venus at this degree suggests her love life was at once a source of her greatest passion and a battlefield where her deepest sensitivities played out. This degree also signifies love that was not only personal but profoundly public, where her private desires and pains were magnified in the eyes of the world. 

Let’s deeper into her story by looking at how Venus is aspected. 

The sextile between Venus and Jupiter in her chart painted her relationships with a bright, optimistic brush, suggesting that she approached love with generosity and a belief in the good. But this expansive nature also meant she yearned for something beyond the every day, a desire for love to always be growing, always evolving. It was a beautiful, if sometimes challenging, quest for an ideal kind of love that could be as vast as the horizon.

Her Venus conjunct Chiron, on the other hand, brings us closer to Marilyn's vulnerabilities. It's like peering behind the curtain of her glamorous life and seeing the raw, tender heart of a woman who felt deeply and feared being unlovable or inadequate. This aspect hints at a love that was not only passionate but also healing, seeking someone who could understand her wounds and love her all the more for them. Yet, this vulnerability made her heart an easy target for pain, a reminder of the courage it takes to love when you've been hurt before.

The trine with Lilith in her chart added a layer of complexity to how Marilyn loved. It was fiercely independent, wildly attractive, and somewhat rebellious. Loving her was like holding a flame: mesmerizing, warm, but impossible to tame. This aspect of her love life suggests she craved a relationship where she could be entirely herself, unapologetic, and free, even if it meant clashing with traditional expectations of love and partnership.

Reflecting on Marilyn Monroe's approach to love, it's evident that her heart was a battlefield of passion, optimism, vulnerability, and independence. Her astrological placements tell us a story of a woman who loved deeply, sought meaning in her connections, and yearned for a love that was as extraordinary as her life. She reminds us that to love and be loved is to navigate a complex landscape of emotions and desires, a journey that requires both bravery and an open heart. 

xox astro ash ✨ Get your own "Venus Love Style Reading" @ astroash.net

[ashleyeveerson]

✨ THE DAN AND PHIL LORE pt. 3✨

CHECK OUT PART 2: https://www.tumblr.com/ashleyeveerson/760707933651746816?source=share

Phil ALSO comes out! (yeah no i'm not crying what? not them feeling comfortable enough to be themselves yeah). 2019 also brings us the adoption of a fish named Norman (a cutie) AND they also post pictures about their recent trip to Japan [the photo of Phil looking up to Dan behind the camera? yeah i am so normal about it, i swear]. There is hope in the horizon still for a Dan and Phil comeback...

BAM! A certain virus runs wild and forces everyone to stay at home. Phil continues to upload solo videos which distracted so many of us during these dark times. Dan, however is AWOL and the only pic we have of him is a shitty screenshot of him in glasses and a mask helping Phil rescue an injured pigeon (lockdown was WILD).

Also, my boy Dan post a cryptic tweet that leads to the announcement of a self-help book named YOU WILL GET THROUGH THIS NIGHT (because you will <3). Nah but I can't count how many times I've sobbed reading it, just him trying to help out others who have also struggled with mental health... istg i love this man

Hey so THEY BUY THEIR FOREVER PHOUSE TOGETHER they're gonna kill me one day istg. "Dan and Phil just decided to pay a mortgage together", top 10 sentences that would kill a 2016 phan. They are slaying, they are glowing... also rip Norman the fish you will not be forgotten

So during 2014 the fates (aka a random youtuber) foretold that Dan and Phil would be married in 2022. Since that clearly didn't happen the meme PHIVORCE united the phandom once more. ALSO Dan is out there shitting on youtube (as he should) and going on his solo tour WE'RE ALL DOOMED! Which i love with all my heart and also Phil being there for him every step of the way... AHHHHHHHH

Anyways a certain video called Dan and Phil finally tell the truth hits the internet and let's just say GOD DAMN. This also starts a wonderful trend amongst Dan and Phil in which they make fun of their audience (we deserve it ngl) and absolutley SHOCK US with new information about bonkers shit from their past [apparently they were offered a threesome MULTIPLE TIMES???]

It's the end. They've decided to give up their channel "Dan and Phil Games" forever... let's take a moment and silent and mourn with a compilation of Heart eyes Howell

...

SIKE! We're back baby and we're better than ever!!! The goodbye video turned out the be an ANNOUNCEMENT of their comeback. They are back, Dil Howlter is here and Phil confesses to having dyed everything green in the house when Dan went on tour bc he missed him (OH GOD). Also, the Halloween baking video introduced us to the icon that is.... *drumroll please*

SISTER DANIEL, the queen of making everyone reconsider their sexuality... she is the moment, she is an icon and she is serving astronomical levels of cunt at all time [jokes aside, Dan being comfortable enough to do drag in public, fuck they've come so far i'm so proud of them <3].

And here we are in the future, it's present day and they are queerer and happier than ever. THE PICTURES I CAN'T ISTG. Also Dan's Birthday stream is beyond iconic. First of all my unproblematic kings make it a charity stream to donate to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund (using their public influence for good hell yeah)... And how did they raise the money you ask? WELL BY HITTING IS WHERE WE'RE WEAKEST. Sister Daniel makes a spectacular comeback, FATHER PHIL is introduced and Dan even dyes his hair red to be more Good Omens coded... which timeline are we living in again? like how is any of this real?

Also them drawing the PINOF whiskers on their faces again... they're literally growing old together I'm gonna go sob in a corner. Also the fake apology video bc they have no fashion sense in the Sims 4 is hilarious as fuck. HOW CAN THEY POSSIBLY BE SO MUCH HOTTER ON THEIR THIRTIES EXPLAIN??

anyways the phandom is still speculating wether they're erasing "i love you's" at the end of their text when they show them on videos... guess some things never change. Nah but the vibes are COMPLETELY DIFFERENT NOW, they are more open than they've ever been and participate on the phan culture FULLY to the point that they're the ones terrorizing us now.

QUICK DETOUR TO TALK ABOUT PHIL'S FAMOUS BAD LUCK (and then they wonder why he's always dying in the fanfics). Nah but my poor man has had his fair share of medical problems, the most recent being...

OH GOD WHY WOULD YOU ANNOUNCE SOMETHING LIKE THAT THIS WAY?? nah like using humor as a coping mechanism and all but do they wanna gives a heart attack?! iconic i fear however

So yeah the video where they talk about it is WILD (funniest shit about the whole ordeal is that a nurse mistook Dan as Phil's son). Also I saw a tweet speculating about Phil having a hickey like... first of all what is it? 2009? Second of all IT'S MOST LIKELY A POPPED VESSEL FROM LOSING ALL THAT BLOOD YOU KNOW

They still were able to go on their vacation (aka the rodent boy summer) which gifted us with this iconic pics... ALSO they dropped a new Dan and Phil beats for summer go check out the names of the tracks istg they wanna kill their fans.

Nothing is sacred anymore, they've infiltrated twtphan, they're actively reposting memes and writing fanfiction about themselves. It's the wild west, everytime you get a notification is like playing Russian Rulet. Cringe is dead and Dan and Phil ARE COMING NEAR YOUR CITY on a tour named "Terrible Influence" where Phil's spent 300€ on silicone. It's a wonderful time to be a phan.

OKAY SO here's some stuff that didn't make the cut but that i find too hilarious to not mention. In no apparent order: DAN DRESSING UP AS A CATBOY, Dan and Phil playing technicians 1 and 2 on Big Hero 6 and two brothers on the Lion King (wtf was that also they gave the gorilas matching fringes), Dan dressing up as a golden pig (my boy has RANGE) and finally Dan being too embarassed to admit he stalked Phil and telling a reporter he was only asking for "editing tips" if you know what i mean

Also a short compilation of Dan and Phil losing the idgaf war against eachother THEY ARE SO THOUGHTFUL ABOUT EVERYTHING. Special mention to Daniel's 🧡 when Phil praised "We're all doomed!" and Dan's ranch metaphor to describe their relationship (just go watch the mukkbang video OH LORD)

SO, in conclusion... Dan and Phil's refusal to belittle their past and instead embrace it as part of their story while actively moving into the future alongside the phandom YEAH THAT SHIT MEANS SOMETHING. They're simultaneously healing our inner child while embracing us as the adults we've become i have many feelings about them

So what are they?

They're just Dan and Phil.

[thepolyglotsdream]

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[fioreofthemarch]

kin

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Pairing: Link/Zelda Words: 1270 [✨this is a companion piece to repast and yearnings]

When at last Zelda was returned to the present, it was all she could do not to dwell on the past.

The memories of her time as a dragon were gone, but the subconscious remained. She felt unsteady on her feet, disliked being cooped up without a view of the sky, and often dreamt of flying, always waking with a lingering sense of loss. 

It was a guilty feeling. She had gotten everything she’d wanted. The Demon King was gone, Hyrule was saved, and Link - Link! - he was alive and they were finally free to go about their lives in long-awaited peace.  

And yet?

“You look as though you’ve forgotten something,” Purah had said to her when they’d last spoken in Lookout Landing. Zelda agreed, but couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. 

An answer came to her in Hateno, while she and Link were visiting their house by the river. Link had built them a new home in Akkala, and was sure that Zelda would enjoy rearranging it to her liking, if she didn’t mind moving house. So there in Hateno, while Zelda was sorting through her things and trying to decide what to take, something bright and blue caught her eye – a dragon! A spirit of cool, calm wisdom, passing silently overhead. 

At that moment, what was forgotten became clear. She burst from the house, arms waving, crying – “Sister!”

But the dragon never slowed, only kept on as sure as the wind. Then she was rounding north, slipping down towards the horizon, and then she was gone. 

Zelda sank down onto the grass, hands clasped tight and catching tears she didn’t know were falling. Naydra no longer knew her; they’d shared the skies for millenia, and yet! 

“Maybe she just doesn’t recognise you,” Link said upon finding her like this, his voice a steadying presence, as were his sure hands leading her back inside. “You’ve changed since she saw you last.” 

“For the better, right?”

He grinned, “I loved you just as much either way.”

After this Zelda tried, earnestly, to let life go on. The Akkala house was perfect, and only needed some nicer furnishings, maybe a painting or two, or a bigger garden. When not working on that, Zelda found her thoughts returning to the dragons – she charted Dinraal’s path over Akkala, drawing it on a map she kept in her study. Then, when the need arose to travel to Hateno, she did the same for Naydra, and later Farosh too, when she and Link travelled south to visit the Gerudo. Once the map was complete, it occurred to her that the three dragons formed a distinct triangle, each guarding their own corner of Hyrule. And that’s when knew what to do. 

“I was here for longer than I can even say,” she explained to Link, after convincing him to take her to the Great Sky Island. “The three dragons visited me here every day, at the centre of the Kingdom.” 

They stood on the roof of the Temple of Time, where Link had landed the ballooncraft he had made them. The skies were clear, and all of Hyrule could be seen below. He asked Zelda what exactly she planned to do, and she admitted she didn’t really know. She just had to try something. Link gave her an understanding nod, and stepped back to let her proceed. 

Zelda clasped her hands at her chest. She focused, felt all the yearning and regret, all the nostalgia for younger days, and let them flow from her like a lighthouse beacon – a single wish that cascaded from her very soul. Her secret stone, still worn around her neck, began to glow hot against her skin, in concert with the ancient royal mark on her right hand. I am here. Come to me!

How long she stood like that she did not know, but eventually she felt the air grow hot and cold all at once. 

The sight when she opened her eyes was all but beyond words; three great and immortal dragons, servants of the very Goddess herself, gathered together before the Temple. Their bodies flowed like rivers, irridescent scales scattering light, long horns shimmering with diffuse elemental power. Summoned here, the dragons hovered in place; Dinraal to the left, Farosh to the right and Naydra in the middle. 

Zelda bowed. She shook from nerves. Did the dragons hear her call? What was their answer? There was silence, except the wind, until at last Zelda heard a voice.

Sister, the dragon Naydra said, you are changed. 

You have become small and fragile, said the dragon Dinraal. 

You have joined the swordsman as a mortal, said the dragon Farosh. 

“You know me?” Zelda said, barely able to breathe. Behind her, Link stood tall and firm, though his body was tense. It was no small thing to treat with the gods. 

You were not easy to spot, Naydra said. Your light however was very familiar.

A great power summoned us here, sister. We are impressed, Dinraal said. 

As are we curious, Farosh added. Speak your command. 

Still Zelda did not know why exactly she had called them. There had to be something that she had wanted to say…

“Zelda… are you okay?” Link said, with a hint of fear in his voice. It was enough to steel her. She couldn’t tarry here. Immortal though her sisters were, she did not want to waste their time. 

“I am okay,” she answered, and she knew why.

Turning to Naydra, Dinraal and Farosh, Zelda bowed again, long and low. Rising, she said, “I was no one, adrift in an open sky, until I awoke in your company. I had done something terrible and forbidden, but you accepted me as one of your own, and stayed with me until my task was complete. And even now that I have left you, you remember me. This kindness…” she brushed tears from her cheeks, composing herself. “I must thank you. I wish there was a way to repay your generosity.” 

The dragons hovered, eyes bright and piercing. Zelda felt foolish; sentimental words probably meant little to them. But then, together, they bowed their heads in return. After a long moment, they broke formation and began to move through the air once more, silently circling the Temple of Time in a spiral of ice, flame and static.  

“Was that ‘offer accepted’?” Link asked with a nervous laugh. 

Dinraal departed first, heading north for Akkala. Then Farosh followed, turning south for Gerudo. Only Naydra remained. She flew down towards the roof of the temple, and landed on its parapets gentler than a feather. Placing her head down so that her and Zelda’s eyes were level, she blinked slow and calm. 

Beloved sister, she said, things done for kin need never be repaid.  

Then, a single tear falling from her eye, the dragon Naydra ascended from the roof, and flew east. Zelda watched until she disappeared from view, her own tears falling free. Not all memories were lost, she realised, but the past would always be the past, and that was its own kind of loss. 

Still, the future was calling. It came in the form of a warm and gentle hand – Link, threading his fingers into hers. “Home?” he said. Zelda nodded, knowing what he meant, but feeling that she was already there as he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Good, I’ve got an apple pie in the oven that you might like.”

With a laugh she returned his radiance, fresh but happy tears falling. “I think I might,” she said. And so they went, leaving the sky behind. 

[genevawrenn]

I Had Been Lost to You, Sunlight (And Flew Like a Moth to You)

✨Philza & Technoblade, Philza & Missa ✨4.3k W.C. [so far] ✨Elven Death Duo raise their dragon shifter son Technoblade, the last free dragon on their continent ✨Philza -centric & Technoblade - Centric ✨Voices for the Blade story ✨Sunlight by Hozier ✨Requested by @marshmallow-ragdoll

~~~

“It's alive.”

Missa seems stunned, slow to approach before his curiosity wins and he comes to lay a thin hand on the egg that might be the last free member of its species. Phil watched the same feeling win him over, his face softening around his skull into gentle affection.

Phil reaches out one of his hands to wrap Missa’s in his own, asking an impossible question. “Are you ready to embark on another adventure with me, luna?”

“To the horizon and beyond, dearest sol.”

~~~

Phil discovers a crimson egg while on his daily rounds foraging for himself and his drow husband, his bleeding heart leading to him taking it home to raise the dragon properly away from the elves who wished to harm him, enslaved to a harsh King who ruled with an iron fist.

An enemy of history, much of the noble Dragon Knight Syndicate had been decimated in an effort to wield them as weapons, forcing them into his service through cruel means as a way to enforce his laws. This Light elf never agreed with this mindset, rescuing his injured husband as his first act of defiance and adopting a dragon as his second, he hoped to guide the future into a more peaceful story while enjoying the love of his family.