#(though we still don't know when those may happen or how soon if they did but yep)

[thisismeracing]

The one | CS55

― Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: mentions of break up and food; typos. ― Summary: Yn is doing well a few months after her break up with Carlos, and so is he. Everyone thinks that this paragraph of their lives is over, but as it happens they may be a chapter to each other, and Yn makes sure everyone knows he was her great love, the one - through her new song. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

February, 2023

February, 2024

realyn

liked by charles_leclerc, sza, and others

realyn "The One" has just come out on all streaming platforms. I hope this piece of my heart reaches yours. Tune in and dive into the feels 💐🤍

view all comments

saintsainz "for old time's sake" HELLO?????

ynsummer omg another bop!!! I wish I could write songs when I'm sad, the few breakups I had I could only cry and try not to choke on my own phlegm

⤷ fan2000 ewwww LOL

hammert1m3 charles on the likes 👀

leclowns1655 in my head they're not over yet

⤷ mercmickey you need therapy, bestie

lewishamilton great music as usual 💜

francisca.cgomes 😍😍

szadirection I love how the grid's still here supporting here even a year after she and carlos broke up 🥺

popyn WE WERE SOMETHING DON'T YOU THINK SOOO ROSÉ FLOWING WITH YOUR CHOSEN FAMILY 🎤🎤🎤🎤

ferraristrangers I have so many theories for the lyrics and the cover and kksjksdj aaaaaaaa

Old posts

March, 2018

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, ynfan, and others

realyn eat pasta, run fasta, they said 😋😂

view all comments

bieberf1 they my new fav couple now 💋

raintyresainz thank you for feeding us that last carlos pic

hurricaneyn welp now I wanna eat pasta but its like the middle of the night

⤷ alonsochamp eat pasta, sleep fasta 😙😂

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️

amarelorenault her glasses are so cool!!!!! her style is always on point

carlossainz55

liked by yourfriend, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

carlossainz55 we tried homemade, it worked 😋

view all comments

realyn we didn't run fasta this time though :(

⤷ carlossainz55 there wasn't any race this Sunday, cariño

⤷ realyn shhhh, let me be funny

harrystylistee I want what they have!

April, 2018

realyn

liked by hulkhulkenberg, renaultf1team, and others

realyn enjoyed April with my fav spaniard, wrote a few songs for you guys - new album dropping soon!!!!! 🥳

view all comments

aussiegrid howd you like Australia, Yn?

⤷ realyn I loved it, def gonna come back soon 🥰

ynfan 💙💙💙💙💙💙

carlosfullname1 where’s your jacket from?

⤷ realyn website.com 😘

fab2000 can’t wait for the new song and espec the new album!!!!!

July, 2018

carlossainz55

liked by pierregasly, realyn, and others

carlossainz55 Yn's new album "I used to know her" is out now and you guys should run to listen to it 💙💙 she did an amazing job as usual. I'm very proud of you, cariño @ realyn

view all comments

lewishamilton congrats, Yn!

hulkhulkenberg everyone here loved the new album, well done, Yn!

renaultf1team its our garage soundtrack 😎💛

March, 2019

realyn

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and others

realyn the past few months wearing papaya have been amazing! 🧡 and yes, last concert clothes were orange bc of the team

view all comments

landonorris looks like the concert clothes gave us some luck, make sure to wear orange again next time!

⤷ realyn I love you guys but I can't be wearing orange all the time

⤷ yourmanager yes, you can

⤷ realyn shut up, I'm gonna fire your ass

⤷ yourmanager no, you won't

⤷ carlossainz55 jajajaja

tifosinha I love how lando looks like their kid 😂

spaincarlos_ not yn and carlos adopting lando lol

ynfan4 her music taste is *chef kiss* 🤌🏾

ynandsainz yn, your album still on repeat on my apple music!

mclaren 🧡🧡

December, 2019

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, hulkhulkenberg, and others

carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Navidad! 🎄❤️

view all comments

saturnracer FELIZ NAVIDAD TAN TAN TAN PROSPERO AÑO Y FELICIDAD 🎤

szalover 😭😍 its the way she loves pasta

⤷ cowboyvettel @ realyn pasta or carlos? choose one

⤷ realyn carlos cooking pasta 😙😋😜

July, 2020

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

realyn compilation of some of the flowers Carlos gave me and pics he took 💖 Te amo, cariño 💐🌷🌹🌸🌺🌼🌻

view all comments

fonedirection God I see what youve done for others

carlossainz55 you’re my favorite flower, love 🌸💖

⤷ fernandoalo_official you guys know how to be sicklengly cute huh 🙄

piastripastry see? carlos gets flowers regularly to yn and yall out there crying over an ugly ass man who gives you the bare minimum 🫵

March, 2021

realyn

liked by carlossainz, scuderiaferrari, and others

realyn new character unlocked hehe ❤️💛🏎️

view all comments

ynfrance We want a new album, queen!!! save us!

swiftverstappen the way they went through everything togerher 🤧

⤷ russellsainz I want what they have

monegasque16 another day another yn post to make me cry in single and alone

carlossainz55 thank you for the endless support, cariño 💛 you’re my everything

tifosisunshine you’re 😭 my 😭 everything 😭

August, 2022

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, and others

carlossainz55 my kind of free-weekends 🩵

view all comments

sunnyyn yn looks so good 😍😍

yourbestie ❤️ aweee

realyn te amo! 😘

January, 2023

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, francisca.cgomes, and others

realyn happy new year 🙃

view all comments

charlsmonaco where's carlos? 😟

mylightyn I don't like this vibe…

ynwardrobe what is she reading?

lewishamilton 💙

⤷ mclatinha lew do you happen to know something we don’t?

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! 🎉

view all comments

brocedes2010 where's Yn??????

schumini_ at least they seem to be on the same place 🙏🏾🙏🏾

redsainz he looks so good it hurts

back to 2024 💬📩

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! I'm set on publishing my drafts but I need time to work on them, this one was saved for a while now, and it's finally here heheh let me know your thoughts!

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

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©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[nrdmssgs]

Dom König scenario

Masterlist

Ok, we had him soft and obedient, how about his other side? Because you don't call someone the King, if they are just tender little angels. Smut under cut.

You were sure, it was you, who actually initiated this all: after months of silent yearning, back and forth dynamics, pinning and practically burning alive with desire you ended up in his hands, your lips pressed against his in desperate attempt to put an end to this slow torture in any possible way: be it with or without him.

He doesn't answer on your kiss, doesn't flinch or frown. Just sits there with a half smile and looks down on you, not breaking the eye contact for a single moment.

Little did you know, you were never in charge. Every interaction, every smallest chat, every stolen smile, lingering gaze - it was all orchestrated.

König loved the good old hunt, thrived on the outrageous hopelessness with which his prey, without realizing it, rushed towards him. Tinkered little traps, mislead, confused, threaded illusions of one-sided hunger to drive you to absolute desperation for him.

He may have always been the quiet one, but one needs not many words, when he can get anything with the slightest brush of fingers, or an 'occasional' eye contact (and of course he squinted and tilted his head slightly to one side, not because he knew what it does to you).

König gradually let you closer and closer. Tricked you into believing that you're the one who's so fearless to fall for him: a living weapon of mass destruction. An absolute menace, turning friendly and smiling around you.

Little did you know, poor thing, little did you know... Until the trap was shut.

His hands barely touch your waist as if he was protecting you from falling off his lap, he doesn't try to pull you closer. You understand, that it is the end of you: he didn't react to your touch, kept silent, his heart was still and calm.

Blush washes over your face. "I'm sorry, König. Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. I didn't mean to... No, I actually meant, but not that. Sorry, I better shut up and leave you be. I promise, this won't happen ever again."

Your babbling amuses him. No, he doesn't want to harm your feelings or bully you, he knows exactly, what is going to happen very soon, but he can't help but indulge in those last moments of your alleged freedom.

It's when you try to pull away, you feel his hands clasp around your waist. "Who said, I don't want this to happen again?" His voice is quiet, lower than usual. Like honey from the Tyrolean forests, it covers your mind with a thick golden veil of lust.

You can't think straight, can't believe your own ears, and yet you dare not resist when he pulls you closer, letting you touch his lips again. Another lingering kiss.

But this time his smile widens. "Nochmal*," he purrs and lets out a low chuckle, when he sees your puzzled expression.

Don't worry, he will make sure you have enough opportunities to learn every single phrase, he might want you to understand and use on your own. He won't translate anything to you though - showing is always better than telling!

So he lets you kiss him once more. "Nochmal". And again. "Nochmal". And again... Till his tongue lazily rolls past your lips.

He tastes you like the most precious drink. Sip after sip, until you lay beneath him, trembling of need.

"My little sunshine, bearing so much love for me... Was it hard to dream of my touch every other night? Did it hurt, when you clenched around your thin, fragile fingers, fantasizing, how good can I make you feel in comparison?" You can't tell if he is genuinely concerned or just loves to fluster you that much.

And don't you even think to look away for a moment, to take a break and collect your thoughts - he'll grab your face while kissing you only to make his point: eyes on him until he commands otherwise.

Yes, commands come too pretty quickly in your life. But how can he possibly resist, when you're so eager to do anything, he lets you doing?

"You may moan into my mouth, meine Süße*, I don't mind some music*" While his fingers are knuckle deep in you. And moan do you, his sweet obedient angel.

He doesn't rush anything and more than happy to please you with his fingers and tongue first couple of times. This may come off as pretty humble, but he in fact just waits, till you are desperate enough to beg him to fuck you properly.

Poor thing too desperate, flustered and overwhelmed... Of course, he would fuck you absolutely incoherent if you ask nicely. He has such a soft spot for your wet eyes, he'd make you go limp, your eyes rolling back, little whimpers leaving your lips with every thrust, as he holds your hips tightly picking up the pace. Fucking your fears and anxieties away. Making you feel high.

Lots of reassurance, praise and confessions. Constantly. Even in the most extreme moments. "Who are you, little sunshine?" "Your fucktoy." "...and?" "Your treasure..." "Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen*... and?" "Love of your life?" "Liebe meines Lebens*."

*Nochmal - once again *meine Süße - my sweet one *Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen - go-o-o-od girl *Liebe meines Lebens - love of my life

[novaursa]

hiiii how are you?

I can’t stop thinking about Aemond twin sister who was also sent to Oldtown and fell in love with Gwayne.

She came back with him to King’s Landing and her mother is like pist at her. When Gwayne and Criston go to battle she follow them on Cannibal to make sure that nothing happens to him. She got injure in the fight again Meleys and Gwayne can leave her side 🥹

The Crimson Sky

- Summary: When Gwayne was ordered to go to Rook’s Rest, you followed him.

- Paring: niece!reader/Gwanye Hightower

- Note: To read more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @holdingforgeneralhugs

- A/N: Request that I've received for Aemond should be out soon too, as it pretty much similar to this one. So, I've just made them simuntaniusly.

The echoes of footsteps reverberated through the stone corridors of the Red Keep, a haunting sound that mirrored the unease in Alicent Hightower's heart. She stood at the edge of the window in her private chambers, overlooking the sprawling city of King's Landing. The city was restless, much like her own soul, as if it sensed the storm that was brewing both within and beyond the castle walls. 

The letter from Oldtown lay open on the table beside her, the ink still fresh with words that brought both relief and dread. Her brother, Gwayne Hightower, was riding toward King's Landing with a force of Hightower knights, bolstering the Green cause in their struggle against the Blacks. And with him, her daughter, her sweet girl—though hardly a girl anymore—who had been sent to Oldtown all those years ago.

"She returns with Gwayne," Alicent murmured to herself, her voice barely more than a whisper. The notion should have filled her with joy. But the rumors... those insidious whispers that had even managed to penetrate the walls of the Red Keep, refused to be silenced.

The door creaked open behind her, and Alicent did not need to turn to know who it was. The scent of parchment and ink preceded him, along with the stern, unyielding presence that had always defined him. Otto Hightower, her father, the Hand of the King, stepped into the room, his expression as inscrutable as ever.

"I take it you have heard the news," Otto said, his voice measured, betraying nothing of the emotion that Alicent knew he was capable of.

"Yes," she replied, finally turning to face him. "Gwayne is coming with her."

Otto inclined his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they met hers. "It is as we had hoped. Reinforcements from Oldtown will be invaluable in the coming days."

Alicent's gaze drifted back to the letter, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the edge of the parchment. "But at what cost?" she asked, her voice low, almost trembling. "The rumors, Father... they say things—unspeakable things about Gwayne and her. About my daughter."

Otto's expression darkened, and he stepped closer, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "Idle gossip," he said dismissively. "People will say anything to sow discord, especially in times of war. We must not let baseless rumors cloud our judgment."

Alicent looked up at him, her green eyes wide with worry. "But the nature of these rumors... it's not just idle talk. They say she and Gwayne... that they are more than uncle and niece, that they are lovers." The word fell from her lips like a curse, and she shuddered at the thought.

"Do you believe it?" Otto's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"I don't want to," Alicent replied, her voice breaking. "But she has been away from me for so long. And Gwayne... he has always been protective of her, ever since she arrived in Oldtown. I... I fear what may have happened in my absence."

Otto's hand tightened on her shoulder, almost to the point of pain. "Alicent," he said firmly, "You cannot allow yourself to be swayed by rumors. We must focus on the war, on securing the throne for Aegon. Your daughter's honor is not to be questioned based on the gossip of those who would see us fail."

Alicent nodded slowly, but her heart was heavy with doubt. She could not dismiss the images that filled her mind, of her daughter and her brother, together in ways that were forbidden, sinful. The thought of it made her stomach churn, and she had to close her eyes to keep from weeping. But there was something else, something that frightened her even more. Her daughter was bonded with Cannibal, the most fearsome and wild of the dragons, a creature that had never been tamed. What if the dragon’s nature had seeped into her very soul, making her reckless, uncontrollable?

"What if there is truth to it?" she whispered, the question hanging in the air like a specter.

Otto's expression softened, just a fraction, as he looked at his daughter. "If there is truth to it, then we will deal with it. But we must not act rashly. There are greater matters at stake here, Alicent. The realm needs stability, not scandal. We cannot afford to let this undermine everything we have worked for."

Alicent swallowed hard, trying to push down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. "I cannot bear the thought of her being shamed," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "She is my child, my daughter. I sent her away to protect her, and now... now it feels as if I have lost her."

"You have not lost her," Otto said firmly. "She is returning to you, to her family. We will welcome her back with the honor she deserves. And as for Gwayne... I will speak to him. If there is any truth to these rumors, he will answer to me."

Alicent nodded, though she found little comfort in his words. Her thoughts were a tangled web of fear, love, and suspicion. She had always known that the bonds of family were complex, but never had she imagined they could become so twisted, so dangerous.

"Father," she said softly, "What if Aemond finds out? He is... possessive of her, protective. If he were to believe these rumors..."

Otto's eyes flashed with concern, and he released her shoulder, stepping back as he considered her words. "We must ensure that Aemond does not hear of this. His temper is too volatile, and his love for her... it borders on obsession. We cannot allow him to be provoked."

Alicent nodded again, but the fear lingered. The thought of her son, her fierce, vengeful Aemond, reacting to such news filled her with dread. She could only pray that Gwayne and her daughter would arrive without incident, that the rumors would prove false, and that the family could focus on the war at hand. 

But as she stared out over the city once more, the uneasy feeling in her chest remained. The winds of war were blowing, carrying with them whispers of scandal and betrayal. And Alicent could only hope that her family would not be torn apart before the storm had passed.

The courtyard of the Red Keep was alive with activity, the clang of armor and the clatter of hooves echoing off the ancient stone walls as the gates swung open to welcome the Hightower forces. Banners bearing the sigil of House Hightower— the tower crowned with flames— fluttered in the wind, a proud sight that filled Alicent with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. These were her people, the kin she had left behind in Oldtown so many years ago. Yet the emotions churning within her were anything but simple.

Aemond stood beside her, his presence as imposing as ever. The hard line of his jaw and the cold fire in his eye spoke volumes of the impatience he could barely contain. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, as if daring anyone to provoke him. Alicent knew his thoughts well enough—he was eager to see his sister, his twin, and if the rumors that plagued Alicent’s mind held any truth, Aemond’s reaction might be the spark that ignited the wildfire. 

Otto Hightower stood on her other side, his expression carefully neutral, but Alicent knew him too well. He was watching, calculating, preparing for whatever might unfold in the moments to come. His eyes were sharp, taking in every detail of the approaching entourage.

Gwayne Hightower rode at the front of his men, his armor gleaming in the midday sun. There was an aura of confidence about him, the kind that only came with years of experience in both battle and court. His gaze met Alicent’s as he dismounted, and for a moment, there was nothing but the shared understanding between siblings—a connection forged long before they were drawn into the deadly game of thrones.

“Welcome, brother,” Alicent called, stepping forward with a smile that she hoped conveyed warmth rather than the anxiety gnawing at her insides. 

“Sister,” Gwayne replied, his voice deep and rich with a familiarity that eased some of the tension in her shoulders. He approached her, inclining his head in a respectful greeting. “It is good to see you after so long.”

“And you as well, Gwayne,” Alicent said, her voice softer now, more genuine. “We have missed you here at court.”

Gwayne’s eyes flickered to Aemond, who had not yet spoken. “Aemond,” he greeted with a nod, but there was no warmth in his tone, only the formality of recognition between two men who were not entirely certain where they stood with one another.

“Gwayne,” Aemond responded, his voice clipped, the tension in him palpable. His eye scanned the ranks of Hightower knights, as if searching for someone. “Where is she?”

Gwayne’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “She will be here soon, Aemond. The journey from Oldtown was long and wearying.”

Alicent noted the careful wording and stepped in before her son could press further. “You must be exhausted after such a journey, all of you. The King has ordered that you be well cared for—rooms have been prepared, and a feast will be held in your honor.”

Gwayne nodded, accepting her words with a grace that belied the tension she could sense in him. “We are grateful, my lady.”

There was a brief pause, the silence heavy between them. Alicent felt the weight of unspoken questions, the rumors lingering like a shadow over their reunion. She searched Gwayne’s face for any sign that might betray him, but he was as unreadable as ever.

“How has Oldtown fared in these troubled times?” Alicent asked, choosing her words with care, hoping to probe gently without drawing blood.

Gwayne’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he recognized the maneuver for what it was. “Oldtown remains strong, sister. The people are resilient, as they have always been. Daeron is well, a credit to our House. As for… other matters, all has been as it should be.”

The last words hung in the air, heavy with insinuation. Alicent caught the slight emphasis, the deliberate choice of words, and it set her on edge. Did he mean to reassure her, or to hide something more sinister? She could not tell.

Before she could press further, the sky above them darkened, and the unmistakable sound of massive wings beating the air filled the courtyard. A shadow passed over them, causing men to look up in awe and fear as a dragon circled above. But this was no ordinary dragon—this was Cannibal, the wild and ancient beast that had never been tamed, bonded only to her daughter.

The sight of the massive black dragon circling overhead sent a chill through Alicent. Cannibal was a fearsome creature, unpredictable and terrifying in its sheer size and ferocity. The fact that her daughter had bonded with such a beast had always unnerved Alicent, and now, seeing it here, so close to the Red Keep, that unease returned tenfold.

Aemond’s lips curved into a smirk as he watched the dragon’s descent. “It seems she has arrived,” he said, satisfaction coloring his tone.

Gwayne’s face was a study in conflicting emotions as he watched Cannibal. There was admiration, yes, but also a tension that Alicent did not miss. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, she thought she saw something akin to fear in his eyes—fear not of the dragon, but of what its presence might signify.

The dragon circled once more before veering off toward the Dragonpit, its massive wings slicing through the air with a sound like thunder. Alicent released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her heart racing in her chest. She turned to Gwayne, watching him closely, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” she asked, her voice light, though her eyes were sharp as they fixed on his face.

Gwayne forced a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. “She is a sight to behold, indeed.”

Alicent could see the effort it took for him to maintain his composure, and it only deepened her concerns. “I trust that her presence has not caused too much trouble in Oldtown?” she ventured, testing the waters.

“None at all,” Gwayne replied, but the answer came too quickly, too smoothly. “Her dragon is as much a part of her as her blood, is it not?”

“Of course,” Alicent agreed, but her mind was racing. Gwayne’s tension was palpable now, and she could not shake the feeling that there was something more beneath the surface. The way he had watched Cannibal, the slight tremor in his voice—these were not signs of a man completely at ease.

Before she could delve deeper, the sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention. Ser Criston Cole, ever the vigilant protector, strode into the courtyard, flanked by a contingent of Kingsguard. Behind him, veiled but unmistakable in her presence, walked her daughter, the niece of Gwayne Hightower, and the twin sister of Aemond.

Alicent’s heart leapt at the sight of her daughter, so regal and composed, yet she could not help but notice the tension in her as well. There was something different about her, something that had changed in the years since they had last seen one another.

Aemond stepped forward, his eye locked on his twin, but it was Gwayne who drew Alicent’s attention. His gaze was fixed on her daughter as well, and in that moment, Alicent saw the truth in his eyes—a truth she had feared but could no longer deny.

There was more between them than simple kinship. It was there in the way Gwayne’s breath hitched as he looked at her, in the way her daughter’s gaze flickered toward him before quickly looking away. It was in the tension that hung thick in the air, in the unspoken words that passed between them.

Alicent’s heart sank, her worst fears confirmed in the space of a heartbeat. She could see it now, plain as day—the connection between them, the bond that went beyond family, beyond duty. It was something deeper, something forbidden.

“Come, we must not keep the King waiting,” Otto’s voice cut through the tension, bringing them all back to the present.

Alicent forced herself to smile, to play the role she had been born into. “Indeed,” she agreed, her voice steady even as her mind churned with a thousand thoughts. “Let us return to the Red Keep.”

As they made their way back, Alicent found herself walking beside Gwayne. She glanced at him, trying to read his thoughts, but his expression was carefully controlled once more. Yet she could not forget the look in his eyes as he had watched her daughter, nor the way his hands had clenched at his sides when Cannibal had flown overhead.

“You must be proud,” she said softly, “of how far we have come, how strong our family has become.”

Gwayne glanced at her, his smile faint but polite. “I am, sister. We have much to be proud of.”

Alicent nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. She could not shake the feeling that everything was on the brink of unraveling, that the threads of their carefully woven lives were being pulled apart by forces they could not control.

And as they walked back toward the Red Keep, with Cannibal’s distant roar echoing in the sky above, Alicent could only hope that whatever came next, her family would survive it.

The flickering candlelight bathed the walls of her chambers in a soft, golden glow, casting silhouettes that danced across the tapestries and silken drapes. The air was thick with the scent of lavender, meant to soothe nerves and calm the mind, but tonight, it did little to ease the tension coiling within you.

You stood by the window, gazing out at the darkened sky, but your thoughts were elsewhere. Worry gnawed at you, like a persistent whisper at the back of your mind, and it only grew stronger as the door behind you creaked open. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was—the familiar presence, the unmistakable warmth that seemed to fill the room whenever he was near.

“Gwayne,” you whispered, turning to face him, the concern evident in your eyes.

He stepped into the room, his expression softened with affection as he looked at you. “You shouldn’t worry, my love,” he said, crossing the room with a few quick strides until he was standing before you, his hands reaching for yours.

“I can’t help it,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you took his hands in yours, gripping them tightly as if you feared he might slip away. “Aemond told me what they plan—how they expect one of Rhaenyra’s dragonriders at Rook’s Rest. It’s a trap, Gwayne. They mean to spring a trap, and you’ll be there with them.”

Gwayne’s expression hardened slightly at the mention of Aemond, but his voice remained gentle as he cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I have faced worse, and I have always returned to you,” he said, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a tender caress. “I will return again, I promise you.”

“But this time…” Your voice broke, the fear creeping into your words. “This time feels different. Aemond is reckless, and Aegon… I don’t trust him to care for anyone but himself. What if something goes wrong?”

Gwayne leaned down, his forehead resting against yours as he closed his eyes, as if trying to draw strength from your presence. “Nothing will go wrong,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “I will make sure of it.”

His words were meant to reassure, but you could hear the uncertainty beneath them, the fear that mirrored your own. You reached up, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his tunic, pulling him closer as if the closeness alone could protect him.

“I can’t lose you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your lips brushed against his. “Not now, not ever.”

His response was a soft, desperate kiss, one that quickly deepened as his hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him. There was a desperation in the way he kissed you, as if he too was trying to cling to the moment, to the safety of the here and now.

The kiss grew more urgent, more heated, and you could feel the tension in him, the way his fingers dug into your hips as if grounding himself in the sensation of your body against his. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers tugging at the fabric, needing to feel his skin beneath your touch.

“Gwayne,” you gasped as he kissed down the column of your throat, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “I don’t want to talk about war, or Aemond, or anyone else. Not right now.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark with desire and something deeper, something that went beyond words. “Then let’s not,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Let’s forget everything else, just for tonight.”

You nodded, and that was all the permission he needed. His hands moved to the laces of your gown, deftly working them free as you did the same with his tunic. The fabric fell away, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the chamber, but the chill was quickly replaced by the heat of his body as he pressed against you.

You let out a soft moan as his hands roamed over your bare skin, the touch both familiar and electrifying. There was no hesitation in the way he touched you, no uncertainty—only the confidence of a lover who knew every inch of your body, who had memorized the places that made you tremble, that made you sigh with pleasure.

He lifted you easily, setting you down on the table behind you with a force that sent a few scattered objects clattering to the floor. But neither of you paid them any mind. Your focus was entirely on each other, on the way his mouth found yours again, the way your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them as he positioned himself between them, his eyes locked on yours, watching the way your breath hitched, the way your body arched toward him in anticipation. The first slow, deliberate thrust drew a gasp from your lips, the familiar stretch filling you with a deep, aching need.

“Gwayne,” you moaned, your head falling back as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sensation of him inside you was both comfort and torment, the slow drag of his body against yours driving you mad with desire.

He didn’t hold back, his movements quickening, each thrust more forceful than the last as he buried himself deeper inside you, his breath ragged against your neck. “They know,” he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of keeping control even as his body threatened to overwhelm him. “Alicent… Otto… they know about us.”

You bit back a cry of pleasure as you tightened around him, your hands gripping his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “I don’t care,” you whispered fiercely, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that silenced any further words. “I don’t want to think about them either.”

The kiss was consuming, a desperate melding of lips and tongues, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that was both frantic and familiar. The table beneath you creaked with the force of your movements, but you paid it no mind, lost in the sensation of him, in the heat that built between you, spiraling higher and higher until it threatened to consume you both.

His hands roamed over your body, as if memorizing every curve, every dip, the feel of you beneath his fingertips. And you responded in kind, your own hands exploring his body, the hard planes of muscle, the slickness of sweat that coated his skin as you moved together, faster, harder.

Your breath came in short, desperate gasps, your body arching off the table as the pleasure built, coiling tighter and tighter until it was unbearable. “Gwayne,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you teetered on the edge of release, needing that final push.

“I’m here,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need, his pace quickening even further, driving you both toward the inevitable end. “I’m here, my love.”

The words sent you over the edge, your body shattering around him as you cried out, the pleasure washing over you in waves, pulling him along with you. He followed with a groan, his movements becoming erratic as he found his own release, his body tensing above you as he emptied himself inside you.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the feel of his body still joined with yours, the lingering warmth of pleasure that coursed through your veins. You clung to him, your hands gentle now, soothing as you held him close, not wanting to let go, not wanting to lose this moment.

But eventually, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes soft with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I love you,” he whispered, the words a balm to the fears that still lingered in the back of your mind.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady, but filled with the same deep emotion that he had shown you.

He kissed you again, this time slow and sweet, a promise in the way his lips lingered against yours. But as you held each other in the quiet aftermath, the world beyond your chambers slowly crept back in—the war, the dangers that awaited him at Rook’s Rest, the knowledge that nothing was certain.

But for now, you pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the feel of his arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours. For now, you were together, and that was all that mattered.

You sit astride your dragon, the wind whipping through your hair as Cannibal’s powerful wings cut through the air. The sound of battle echoes below, the clash of steel and the screams of men rising like a dark symphony. You can see the banners of House Targaryen and House Hightower waving in the distance, signaling the battlefield at Rook’s Rest. But your heart is not with the men below; it beats faster with each passing moment, drawn inexorably to the man on the hill, mounted on his horse, watching the sky with a tension that mirrors your own.

Gwayne.

He’s there, beside Ser Criston Cole, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. You know his eyes are on the horizon, where Meleys, the Red Queen, approaches with Rhaenys Targaryen astride her. His heart must be racing, as is yours, for different reasons. He knows the danger. You know the risk.

He’s always known, hasn’t he?

Even back in Oldtown, when you were sent away with Daeron, your brother, to be raised as a ward of House Hightower, it was clear that your life was bound to the iron will of your family. But it wasn’t duty that bound you to Gwayne; it was something else, something deeper, something forbidden.

It began with stolen glances, quiet moments in the gardens, and the brush of his hand against yours. Oldtown became your sanctuary, but it was Gwayne who became your world. The Hightower, with all its towering walls and ancient halls, held secrets—yours among them. The love that blossomed between you both was secret, tender, and as dangerous as the war that now rages around you.

Cannibal lets out a low, rumbling growl beneath you, sensing your anxiety. You press a hand to the black scales of his neck, grounding yourself. You were always a Targaryen, always bound to the dragons, but Cannibal… Cannibal was different. He was a creature of pure darkness, a beast of the old ways, feared and shunned by all but you. It was fitting, you suppose, that your fate would ride with such a dragon.

“Hold steady, Cannibal,” you murmur, though your eyes are fixed on Gwayne’s distant figure.

There’s no time to linger on thoughts of him. Meleys is close now, her crimson scales catching the light of the setting sun. Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was, a seasoned dragonrider and a warrior born, is a formidable opponent. You know this as well as anyone. Your jaw tightens as you prepare for what’s to come.

Gwayne’s voice echoes in your mind, a memory from nights past. “You shouldn’t do this. It’s too dangerous.”

“This is what I was born to do,” you’d whispered back to him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “For the throne, for our family… for you.”

He hadn’t said anything more, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He’d known then that this day might come, and he’d feared it as much as you had.

A roar splits the air, snapping you back to the present. Rhaenys has begun her assault, Meleys unleashing a torrent of flame upon Cole’s men below. They scatter like leaves in the wind, consumed by the fire. The scorpion ballistas fire their harpoons, but Meleys is swift, her aerial maneuvers deft and practiced. The shots go wide, missing her entirely.

And then, another roar—this one deeper, more guttural—resonates through the skies. It’s a sound that stops your heart, and you know it’s the same for Gwayne, though he is miles away.

Cannibal.

The battlefield below stills for a moment, as if the very world is holding its breath. Then, the black shadow of your dragon falls across the earth, blocking out the sun as you and Cannibal descend upon the fray. Rhaenys turns her head, her eyes narrowing as she sees you. There’s no time for words, no time for the politics or the pain of family betrayal. There’s only the battle.

Cannibal’s jaws open, and a blast of dark fire shoots forth, aimed directly at Meleys. Rhaenys pulls her dragon to the side, just in time, the fire missing by a hair’s breadth. The air is thick with the stench of smoke and burning flesh, the screams of men below barely audible over the thunder of dragon wings.

Rhaenys maneuvers Meleys with precision, and you feel the thrill of the challenge rise within you. Cannibal surges forward, claws outstretched, and the two dragons clash in a tempest of scales and fury. The sky is a blur of red and black, fire and blood. Meleys snaps at Cannibal’s neck, but he twists, his tail whipping around to strike her side.

Gwayne watches from his position on the hill, his knuckles white as he grips the reins of his horse. He knows your style, knows the ferocity with which you fight. But this… this is something different. This is war.

Above, another dragon’s roar cuts through the din, and you know it’s Aegon on Sunfyre. He swoops in from the west, brilliant golden scales shining in the fading light. Aemond follows on Vhagar, the ancient dragon circling above, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

It’s a dance of death, a deadly game of strategy and strength. Cannibal and Sunfyre move in tandem, each attempting to flank Meleys, forcing her into a vulnerable position. You catch a glimpse of Rhaenys, her face set in grim determination, her lips moving as she urges her dragon on.

Cannibal snarls, his teeth snapping inches from Meleys’ throat, but she’s quick, too quick. She lashes out with her claws, raking them across Cannibal’s side. He roars in fury, and you feel the impact through the bond you share with him, the pain a sharp lance in your side.

But you don’t falter. You can’t. Not now.

Sunfyre dives, his maw open wide, but Meleys is ready. She turns, a stream of fire bursting from her jaws, and it engulfs Sunfyre. The golden dragon shrieks in agony, his wings catching fire, the delicate membrane burning away. Aegon is thrown from the saddle, his body a blazing comet as he plummets to the earth below.

“No!” The scream tears from your throat before you can stop it, the sight of your brother’s fall searing itself into your mind. But there’s no time to mourn, no time to grieve.

Cannibal takes advantage of the chaos, his claws digging into Meleys’ back as he forces her downward. The red dragon roars in defiance, but Cannibal is relentless, his jaws closing around her neck, ready to end it.And then it happens.

A scorpion ballista, aimed by desperate men, fires a harpoon meant for Rhaenys. But the aim is off, the bolt instead striking Cannibal’s side, driving deep into his flesh. The black dragon lets out a roar of agony, his grip on Meleys faltering. The pain is overwhelming, the bond between you and your dragon screaming with the shared agony.

“Cannibal!” The cry is torn from your lips as you feel him falter, feel his strength ebbing away. You’re falling now, the ground rushing up to meet you as Cannibal spirals out of control. The world blurs, the sky and earth blending into one as you plummet, your heart in your throat.

Gwayne watches in horror, his voice lost to the wind as he sees you falling, sees Cannibal spiraling down in a trail of blood and fire. He digs his heels into his horse’s sides, urging the beast forward, racing toward where you’ll land, desperate to reach you.

Above, Aemond’s fury is unleashed. Vhagar, enraged by the sight of his fallen kin, descends with a vengeance. The ancient dragon’s roar shakes the very earth as he closes in on Meleys, who is weakened, bloodied. Rhaenys barely has time to react before Vhagar’s jaws close around Meleys’ neck, and with a sickening crunch, it’s over.

Meleys falls, lifeless, to the ground, her crimson scales dulling as death claims her. Rhaenys, too, falls silent, her body still and broken beside her dragon.

But Gwayne’s thoughts are not with the dead queen or the defeated dragon. His only concern is you. He rides hard, faster than he’s ever ridden, his mind racing with fear and hope. He can’t lose you, not now, not like this.

Cannibal crashes into the earth with a sound like thunder, his massive body crumpling from the impact. The force of the fall throws you from the saddle, sending you tumbling across the scorched ground. Pain explodes through your body as you hit the earth, the breath knocked from your lungs.

Darkness edges your vision, but you fight it, fight to stay conscious. You can’t succumb, not yet. Gwayne is coming. You have to hold on.

As the world begins to fade, you hear it—the sound of hooves pounding against the earth, growing closer, and closer. Gwayne. He’s coming for you. You try to move, to reach for him, but the pain is too much, your body too broken.

The last thing you see before the darkness claims you is his face, twisted in anguish, as he leaps from his horse. 

You barely feel the impact as you fall into his arms, the world around you blurring into a haze of pain and shadows. Gwayne's voice is a distant echo, calling your name, but the sound is faint, drowned by the thunderous roar of the battle still raging in the skies above.

"Stay with me," Gwayne pleads, his voice thick with desperation. His hands tremble as they touch your face, your hair, as if he's afraid you're already slipping away. Blood is everywhere—yours, Cannibal's, staining the ground beneath you. He can't seem to stop the flow, no matter how hard he tries.

"Cannibal..." you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. Your hand reaches out instinctively, searching for the bond you've always felt so strongly. But there's only silence. Cannibal, the dragon who was feared by all, lies broken, motionless, his once powerful body now just a dark mass on the blood-soaked earth. The bond between you and your dragon fades, leaving a gaping void in your heart.

Gwayne’s heart shatters at the sight of your pale face, your bloodied form cradled in his arms. He knows he should call for the maester, for anyone who can help, but the thought of leaving your side, even for a moment, is unbearable. He pulls you closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your cold skin.

"You’re going to be fine," he says, but the words sound hollow, even to his own ears. There’s too much blood, too much pain, and he can see the life slipping from your eyes. "You have to be fine. I won’t let you go. I can’t..."

You try to speak, to comfort him as you always have, but the effort is too great. The darkness is pulling you down, dragging you away from him, and there’s nothing you can do to fight it. The world is growing colder, quieter, and all you can think about is Gwayne. How much you wanted to tell him that you loved him, how much you wanted to stay with him, away from the chaos of the war that has torn your family apart.

Gwayne’s tears fall freely now, his chest tightening with grief. He’s never felt so helpless, so utterly powerless. He presses his lips to your forehead, a silent vow passing between you both.

"I will keep you safe," he whispers, his voice breaking. "No matter what, I will keep you safe. I swear it on my life, my love. I will not lose you. Not to this war, not to anyone."

The sound of approaching footsteps jolts him back to reality, and he looks up to see Ser Criston Cole riding towards them, his expression grim. Behind him, the battlefield is a smoldering ruin, the bodies of men and dragons alike littering the ground. Aegon’s fall has sent a shockwave through their ranks, and the once glorious day has turned into a nightmare.

"Get her to the maester, now!" Cole commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Aegon’s alive but barely, and we need to regroup. We can’t afford to lose her too."

Gwayne doesn’t respond, his focus solely on you. With a strength born of sheer will, he lifts you into his arms, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. In his mind, you are.

As he carries you toward the tents, each step feels like a mile, the weight of his promise bearing down on him. The battle rages on, but in that moment, Gwayne doesn’t care about the throne, the war, or even his duty. All that matters is you, and the vow he’s made to keep you safe, no matter the cost.

He won’t let you die. He can’t. Not when there’s so much left unsaid, so much left to live for. He’ll fight for you, as fiercely as you’ve fought on the back of your dragon. And if it means going against the very family he’s sworn to serve, then so be it.

As Gwayne reaches the maester’s tent, he refuses to let go of you, even as the maester tries to take you from his arms. He holds on, even as the world around him spins out of control. He won’t let go. He can’t. 

And as the darkness finally overtakes you, the last thing you hear is his voice, a whispered promise that anchors you to the world.

“I will keep you safe,” he vows again, and this time, the words are as unbreakable as the bond you once shared with your dragon.

Even if it takes his last breath, Gwayne Hightower will not fail you.

[penelopepine]

Elephant in the Room Pt. 4

Part 3 Part 4

Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 2309

Price continues to avoid you even after getting back to base. That seems to be what you want right now as well if the glare you shoot his way when he attempts to carry a few of the bags inside was anything to go by. With that in mind he swiftly made his retreat; leaving the rest of the team to help the two of you get settled while he excused himself on account of needing to do some paperwork.

His mind was racing far too much for him to truly focus on that though. Price tries to stay away, but after a few hours he can't help but find himself at your door once more today. Things like this do require space, but they also need to be discussed as soon as possible lest resentment and anger continue to grow. Ghost's words from earlier echoing in his mind. 

He knocks firmly on the door, and waits to see if you'll open the door, and surprisingly you do. You don't seem surprised to see him either. The two of you stand there in silence for what feels like hours before your moving, and gesturing for him to come inside. 

The silence continues even after the door shuts and you lead him to the living room. Price sits across from you, and only then does he finally speak, "I know the things that have been happening are my fault, and I'm- I'm sorry. I am going to fix things though. The only thing I'm begging of you is that I get a chance to talk to Amelia and Andrew." 

“No, no this isn’t your fault John. I shouldn’t have implied that I thought it was earlier. It’s just- everything is happening so fast; I mean just a few days ago everything was perfectly normal, and now it feels like I’m in an unending nightmare.” You explain to him before taking a calming breath, “Would you … like to talk to Amelia tomorrow? She was asking about you earlier, and I admittedly didn’t have any answers for her” 

“May I ask how much they do know about me; about us?” 

It's here where he sees a wave of sadness hit you. "They know just about as much as I do. I told them your name, that you were a lieutenant when I met you, and that you were kind. They also know that we weren't any official. Would be a bit hard to lie about not knowing your last name if I said we were."

Price softly whispers your name before continuing, "I shouldn't have left like I did, love. You didn't deserve that. Maybe things would be different now if I did."

"I tried to find you John, I wanted things to be different." 

"There was only so much you could have done. Heaven knows there are hundreds of 'Johns' in the military." He pauses here thinking about the conversations he's had with you today, "I still haven't properly introduced myself to you."

You let go of a soft laugh at his words. This might be the first time seeing any sort of happiness on your face since meeting you again. "Well go on then! I'd love to finally know my children's father's name." 

"John Price, and it's captain now."

"Captain John Price." You look at him with a soft smile, "it suits you." 

He likes the way you say his name. It only makes him wish he could have told you it all those years ago. You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment before he asks, "Were you serious about letting me talk to Amelia tomorrow?"

"Maybe- maybe you could come by for lunch; talk to her then." 

"I'd like that." He answers you with a gentle tone. "What is she like; what is Andrew like?"

Your eyes are soft and smile sweet as you reply to him, "Amelia … She's a good kid; smart too, but a little spitfire that one. I don't think that girl has ever been afraid of confrontation. Very blunt, I'll warn you now about that. I'd prepare yourself for some hard questions from her."

"Good to know," Price nods at the information you've shared. He can only imagine right now what a kid who's meeting their father for the first time in 12yrs could ask. "And Andrew?"

"Football is life is a phrase I'm pretty sure he actually lives by with how much I've heard him say it." You lightly chuckle at your words, and wipe a fallen tear from your cheeks before continuing, "He's a sweet boy though; always wanting to include others in whatever he does." 

"They sound like great kids." He pauses for only a moment, "You're a good mum." 

Your eyes snap up to meet him when you hear this with surprise shining through your face. "Thank you," your voice cracks out.

Price takes a moment of silence before speaking again, "It's late and I don't want to keep you up any longer, love."

You walk him to the door, and before you shut it you whisper, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Hell or high water he'll be here tomorrow. He won't let you down again.

-

It's the next morning and only a few hours until his first conversation with his daughter when Laswell decides to make a sudden appearance in his office. “John.” 

“Laswell,” He addresses her, “what you got for me?”

She steps up to his desk and immediately hands him a folder, “Information about who took Andrew.” 

Instantly opening up the folder Price sees the name of the same group who had managed to take him captive for a few hours months ago. He had always thought that the interrogation had been odd. They didn’t ask for any information, any codes, or any future plans the team had. Instead they had swabbed his mouth, and left him alone for most of his time there. 

Looking back on it now though their intentions are becoming more clear. They didn’t want to simply torture information out him; they wanted to take something seemingly much more important to him. This was in the plans for much longer than he realized. 

Flipping through the other pages he sees a printed scene shot of a DNA test website. It shows a profile with his name being listed as father above Andrews’. That's how they found Andrew it seems; by a stupid online genetic test. 

"Where are we now on getting him back?"

"We have a basic location on their base of operation as of now. Be prepared to be sent out on a moment's notice; even for today. We're getting this kid back as soon as we can."

"I can agree with you on that. Has anything else been sent to us since the video?"

Laswell shakes her head at him, "Nothing as of yet. Which we should take as a good thing. Hopefully that means Andrew has been left alone for the most part."

"We can only hope."

She takes a step closer to him, and gives his shoulder a quick squeeze, "We're going to get him back, John.” With a slight pause she continues, “What about the girls; how have things been with them?” 

“Well I’ve been allowed to have a conversation with Amelia today so things are doing good, all things considered.” 

“Yeah? Are you ready for that?”

“Laswell.” 

“Yes, John?”

“How do you talk to 12 year old girls?” 

Laswell gives a small chuckle at Price’s question, “Don’t treat her like a soldier for one, and two … I’d just be honest about whatever questions she might have. She probably already feels like her life has been turned upside down. The last thing she wants right now is to be treated like she can’t handle knowing the truth.” 

“So just be honest about everything?” 

“Well she is 12 so there are going to be things you’ll probably want to explain in a more age appropriate way, but 12 year olds aren’t babies; they can handle having a serious conversation.” 

“And what if she’s angry?” Price can’t help but ask. Of all things, that is the one that he’s not sure how to properly react to or handle that.

Laswell merely sighs at him, “She’s going to be angry. You just need to stay calm, actively listen to what she says, and don’t take everything she says out of anger to heart. Especially with how crazy her life is right now.” 

He doesn’t say anything else right away; thinking about what Laswell had just said to him. As always she’s right; Amelia is most likely going to be angry. He knows if he was in her position he would be. “Thank you Laswell.” 

“No problem John.” She then turns around and walks out of the office.

Once alone he takes out the photo he had taken from the first folder Laswell had given him; the one that showed all three of you smiling together. Price thinks about how once he gets Andrew back he'll make sure all of you can be together like that again. 

-

It was noon right on the dot when Price stepped inside your house once more. The first thing he noticed was how delicious it smelt inside. It really made him think for a moment about how long it’s been since he’s had a meal that wasn’t from the base cafeteria. 

You both exchange slightly awkward greetings with one another before you lead him into the dinning room where Amelia is already sitting at the table; a notepad sits in front of her. Price stops in the arch way as he watches you walk over to her, and give her shoulder a squeeze. 

“Lunch is almost ready; it’ll just be a few more minutes.” You move your head between Amelia and him, “While I’m finishing up you two can have a talk. Amelia, come get me if you need to.” You say before nervously exiting the room.

With you gone now it just leaves Price and Amelia alone to have what he can already tell is going to be a hard conversation. He makes his way further into the room and sits across from her with a hand extended, “Hello, Amelia. I’m John; John Price.” 

He watches as his daughter takes a calming breath as she extends her hand to shake his as well, “Hello, … John.” 

She sounds unsure saying his name which he can understand. Price didn’t come in here expecting her to call him any sort of partial name; that is something he hopes later on she’ll be comfortable giving him. That time is not now though, now is the time to build trust. 

“I heard you had some questions for me, and I promise to do my best to answer them for you,” He slightly motions towards the notepad. 

At the mention of questions Amelia seems to immediately perk up; even flipping her notepad open to reveal several lines of text. Price unfortunately couldn’t read it from this distance. It seems all nervousness from her has been thrown out the window though. 

The first few questions were basic get to know you questions. Things like age, birthday, and where did he grow up. Price noted how this felt more like an interrogation rather than a talk which actually eased his nerves a bit; she strangely reminded him of Laswell at this moment. 

Those kind of questions could only last for so long though before you started asking about things currently going on. “Have there been any updates about Andrew?” 

“We’re hoping to retrieve him any day now.” Price hesitantly answers; unsure of how much he should really be discussing with her. “You’ll get your brother back soon.” 

“And afterwards?”

“Hmm?”

"So like … what's going to happen afterwards then? You keep saying you're going to get Andrew back, but what about after that?" Amelia questions him, "Are you just going to save the day and all these years without you don't matter anymore because of that, or are things going to go back to when we never knew you?"

“Amelia!” Your voice rings out from the other side of the room. 

Price doesn’t know how, but you had managed to come into the room with him noticing. He puts a calming hand up to you, and softly says your name before continuing, “No, it’s ok it’s a valid question to ask,and the answer truthfully is that I don’t know what is going to happen afterwards. That is something your mum and I have yet to discuss.”

"What do you want to happen?" You are now sitting next to Amelia with a comforting hand on hers.

"I- I don't know." She says as her head hangs low and picks at her nails.

"That's ok; You don't have to know." You stand up and gently help Amelia out of her chair, "Why don't you come and help me bring out the dishes?" 

Price watches as you both leave; knowing that you wanted to have a private conversation without him present. It only takes a few minutes for you both to return, Amelia mood seems to have risen based on the easy smile on her face. 

The conversation that follows is stilled in the beginning, but quickly becomes livelier as Amelia talks about her friends and upcoming school year. Everything for just a moment feels calm, but of course nothing can last forever. 

A loud rapid knocking sound rings through the house; stopping any conversations in an instant. Price is the first one to stand and walk towards the door. He knows that whoever is on the other side is most likely looking for him anyway. 

“Captain.” Gaz stands before him, a serious look on his face. “Laswell needs us in the debriefing room. It’s time to get your boy.” 

Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer

[xoxoavenger]

So Scarlet (It Was Maroon)

pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N likes to romanticize her relationship with Luke, much to the anger of everyone around her. Percy wants to remind her of the rose colored glasses, he just doesn't know how.

word count: 3076

warnings: some angst

part 1 part 3

birthday celebration main masterlist

Y/N may be going crazy.

At least, that's what everyone thinks is going on. But they would never say that to her face. Not because they're scared of her, but they are scared of what Percy will do will if he caught them. For some reason, Percy had adopted her as his older sister and even though Luke had tried to kill him, he felt bad for Y/N. He had watched as Luke brought the sword down on her head, watched Y/N's heart break as she poured herself out to him. He knew she must be in pain, must be hurting. The wound was still fresh, having only taken place a couple weeks ago. 

But she was driving him insane with all her memories, and he was going to explode soon.

She didn't always say it out loud, didn't always reminisce with everyone, but they all knew what was going on. Today she had decided to tell them, since it was just him and two of her siblings in the stables, and Percy has been reminding himself all day that not only is Y/N a woman but also a counselor, so if he punches her he'll just cause more problems. Oh, and she's in pain already, another good reason not to punch her. 

"One time," Y/N starts, and Percy has to clench his teeth to keep the sigh back. He'll punch anyone else who sighs, though. They're in the stables, cleaning up with Silena and her other sister Allegra. "Luke and I snuck out to the stables and spent the night here." She's smiling as she says it, and Percy steals a look over at Silena. She's pursing her mouth and raking, so Percy decides he shouldn't say anything either.

"Don't you have hay fever?" Allegra tries to remind her, but it's like Y/N can't hear her. It's probably for the better, to just let her finish this story and they can all get on with their lives.

"The cleaning harpies don't come in here, so they didn't bug us, and none of the campers wanted to come out here either that late. It was one of those nights when the Northern Lights were visible - that's only happened once in all the time that we've been at camp." Y/N is still working on cleaning, and Percy wants to rake his eyes out.

"Did you freeze your ass off?" He snarks, not able to keep his mouth shut. She turns to him, snapping her head. He feels bad, but he could not stand her talking about Luke any longer.

"It was last September at Camp Half-Blood. The weather was great." She snarks, but she's clearly gotten the memo to shut the fuck up about Luke. Percy freezes, because he thought this was recently.

"Last summer?" He mutters, pausing his work. He and Annabeth were the only two that knew Y/N and Luke weren't actually dating; they weren't sworn to secrecy but they both knew it would be better if no one else found out. But according to Annabeth, they had only been dating a couple months when Percy showed up, so why was she talking about something that happened before they were dating.

"You spent the night with him before this summer?" Silena has also paused her work, but Y/N doesn't look at any of them, just keeps working.

"Spent the night? What are you talking about?" Percy feels so lost and he hates that feeling.

"You didn't hear?" Allegra asks, and now she's not working either. "For the past month, Luke was sneaking into the cabin to sleep with Y/N."

"Yeah, and she hasn't slept since." Y/N throws her rake down, stomping out of the stables, clearly angry. The other three watch as she leaves, her hand coming up to wipe her tears.

"Maybe because she has a head injury from the bottom of Backbiter." Percy snaps, going back to his work.

"Thank God we don't have to worry about Luke sneaking in anymore." Allegra mutters, and Percy tries to take a deep breath because he's not Y/N's sibling and he just made fun of her.

"She's not sleeping, so it's not a great solution anyway." Percy settles on, ignoring Silena's side eye.

~

"What do you think will happen after Camp?" Luke muttered into her hair. They're laying on a blanket on the beach, Luke's arm around her shoulders so she had a nice pillow for her head. She was holding his hand, rubbing her thumb up and down his skin.

"After camp?" She mutters, the setting sun and the warmth from summer making her tired. She ships to lay more against his chest, letting go of his hand as he moves it down to her waist.

"Yeah. We have to leave eventually." Luke tells her, rubbing his fingers up and down her arm. She throws her own over him, lazily rubbing circles around his clothed ribs. This is supposed to be for show, but she's not sure who's looking.

"I don't like thinking about that." Y/N sighs, frowning. She doesn't know what to do without Camp; sure, she's done schoolwork, she knows more than most high schoolers do, all thanks to Chiron's rigorous classes. Because there weren't many people during the school year, they would trade off days of actual teaching and free days of homework. She really didn't want to go to college or get an actual job.

"We have to leave at some point." Luke tells her, and she shutters.

"Can we talk about something else?" She asks, opening her eyes into the sun and looking into him.

"Sure." He can tell it's agitating her, so he shuffles a little and closes his eyes as looks up at the sky. "What's your favorite flower?"

"Lavender roses." She answers quickly. She waits for a second, knowing Luke will ask another question. "You don't remember the rose class I taught you?" She smirks. A couple weeks ago while they had overseen arts and crafts she had been painting roses. Luke hadn't even known there was different colored roses, and being the daughter of Aphrodite she had taught him all about each meaning.

"Red is love," He names off, and she nods against him. "Yellow is friendship. White is innocence." He pauses, and she knows that he has just named off the easy ones that he knows.

"Alright, so purple is different than lavender, remember that? Purple is still pretty, it's passion and infatuation. But lavender is unique love." She's smiling at the thought of someone giving her these roses, of Luke giving her these roses.

"Unique love." Luke repeats, nodding his head. "I'll remember that." He tells her, but she shakes her head.

"You will? Because I already told you once and you didn't remember." She giggles. He shakes her, moving so both his arms around her now. She shifts to be more comfortable, and she's sure she could fall asleep.

"No, I'll remember this time." He kisses her head, and she once again wonders if there's someone around or if he's doing this for her.

She wonders if there will ever be a day when she doesn't have to ask that question.

She wakes up, in the middle of a deep breath. Her heart is racing, and she has to remind herself with a reach of her hand that Luke left. He's gone now, and he's not coming back. He clearly didn't want to take her with him, and if she would have even gone is another question she doesn't know the answer to.

She gets up and puts on a sweatshirt, a camp one that's Luke's but no one will know it's Luke's. She takes a deep breath, trying not to cry over the fact that the sweatshirt is starting to lose his scent. It's the last thing she has of his, not wanting to take anything from his siblings and cause a scene. She's just lucky Annabeth and Percy didn't tell anyone that it was all fake.

Her mother hasn't been back to visit, and she's not sure if it's a good or bad thing. She doesn't want to talk to the goddess, knowing that all the conversation will accomplish was Y/N's embarrassment and making her even more upset than she already was. What was the point of talking to her mom when she knew that something was going on with Luke? She had to know that they lied, had to know that it was fake.

Yeah, it was probably good her mom hadn't come to visit.

She was wearing nice slippers, so she didn't walk to the beach. Instead she walked to the fields where the flowers grew. It was cool, not cold and not as dewy as a normal morning but still wet. She stood in the field a slight breeze making her shiver slightly.

"What are you doing?"

She turned quickly, heart beating fast. Her mother was standing in the field, somehow glowing even though the sun hadn't risen. Y/N didn't know what time it was, but the sky was still dark, so she knew it was early.

"Do not disrespect me right now, Y/N." Her mother snaps, and Y/N's eyes widen. She hasn't even said anything and her mother is already mad at her. "What are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't sleep." She answers. Aphrodite makes a face, and Y/N doesn't know what she said wrong but clearly she said something wrong.

"If this is about the son of Hermes," Her mother turns her head, as if in disgust, and Y/N sighs.

"I thought you liked tragic love stories." She says it without thinking, as if her mom were a normal person. As if her mom weren't a goddess.

"This wasn't a love story at all!" Aphrodite yells, and Y/N shrinks back. She looks away, trying to keep the quick rising tears back.

"It was to me." She whispers. She can't help it; everyone seems to forget that she was in love with Luke, that he broke her heart and she can't just snap back from that. Her mother's words cut deeper than a knife, slicing her heart open.

"What?" Her mom asks, not expecting this much talkback. No one says these things to gods, even if the gods are their parents. Especially to Aphrodite. Her children generally praise her.

"I was in love!" She screams, not caring if she wakes everyone up. Her mother started this, and she will finish it. It's all her mom's fault anyway; if she hadn't had the stupid rule for her children, none of this would have happened. "It was a love story because I was in love. It doesn't matter what it started out as or that it ended with my heart broken instead of his. I'm sorry I let you down. Is that what you want to hear?" She's breathing heavily, staring at her mom. Aphrodite might as well be a statue with how frozen she is, and Y/N thinks her own mother is going to kill her right now.

It might just be worth it to have gotten that off her chest.

"Who do you think you are?" Aphrodite whispers lowly, moving closer to Y/N. She tries not to shrink back, but it's hard. She's not afraid, but for a moment she thinks of Luke. The thought of never seeing him again, not having the chance if she dies right here. She closes her eyes, but everything goes still. After a moment, she opens them to see her mom looking down at her with concern and some unreadable emotion. "Why did you lie to me?" Her mom surprises her with that question.

"I didn't think someone could fall in love with me in four months." She says quietly, looking down at the ground. She pulls the sleeves of Luke's sweatshirt over her hands. "And the thought of breaking some innocent guy's heart? I mean, it's a little outdated, Mom." She tries to joke, but Aphrodite just stares.

"He was in love with you." The goddess says, causing Y/N to shake her head. "Really, you're gonna go against me? Your mother, a goddess?" Y/N gives a small smile.

"He left." She says, voice cracking with emotion. She shakes her head again, wiping her face. She doesn't know when the tears fell, but her face is wet. "I should get back to my cabin. Thanks for," Y/N doesn't know why Aphrodite came to Camp Half-Blood, why she visited in person, and she honestly isn't sure she appreciates it. But she walks past her mom, leaving the goddess behind her in the field.

"Don't give up hope yet." Y/N's not sure what her mom means by that, but she doesn't turn around, knowing her mom is going to turn into her true form to leave. The gold light washes over her, and all she can think about is if her mom meant on Luke or on love.

~

"My mom visited me this morning." Y/N says to Percy as they get their food. Traditionally, campers were supposed to get their meals and eat at specific tables with their cabin members only, but Percy didn't have any and Y/N was lonely, so she had got Mr. D to allow them to eat together. Chiron wasn't thrilled when he found out, being a stickler for the rules, but they all knew he wouldn't police where they ate. They settled for a couple stares across the pavilion every day during meals.

"In person?" Percy asks, grabbing a premade sandwich from the tray. Y/N had told him all about her mother's visits when they had first gotten close, so Percy knew how rare and scary an in person visit was.

"Yeah. I don't know why she came, but I got the feeling I had embarrassed her with Luke." Percy bit back a groan. He hated talking about Luke, but it seemed to be Y/N's favorite thing. He felt bad enough that he couldn't tell her to shut up (yet), but it was getting on his nerves.

"What'd she say?" Percy asks as they head to their table, the only completely empty one beside the Zeus table.

"She told me it wasn't a love story, so I yelled at her. I mean, who does she think she is?" She complains, setting her food down across from him. He feels his heart rate spike as he struggles to reign himself in.

"Do you think maybe she was trying to protect you?" He asks, not even able to take a bite of his food yet. He's not sure why he's trying to get Y/N to see the error in her thinking, when she seems to just get more delusional as time goes on.

"From what?" Y/N scoffs, tensing. Percy can tell this is going to be a fight.

"Luke," He says, as if it's obvious. Y/N squints and shakes her head.

"Why would she need to protect me from Luke?" She asks, leaning back. "I mean, when we were dating, he-"

"It wasn't real!" Percy screams, getting everyone's attention. He didn't want to do this here, but he can't take it anymore. It's like she's somehow convinced herself that their relationship was perfect. She's made Luke into a different person in her mind. Or maybe Percy just thinks he's a villain because he tried to kill him and is trying to overthrow the gods, but that's more solid reasoning in his mind than Y/N's.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Y/N warns lowly, not wanting a scene. Her cheeks are flush, because there's no way no one is going to know after this. Everyone will know.

"I was there, Y/N. He tried to kill me. He tried to kill you!" He argues, and watches as Y/N takes a deep breath. He had watched Luke grab her, watched him hit her with the bottom of his sword and let her fall to the ground. He had stood there in fear as Luke stepped over her lifeless body. That isn't love; it can't be love. He has to get it into her head, but he doesn't think even this will.

"I was there too, Percy. And my mom told me that his heart was broken. I'll believe the feelings more than I believe a couple words from a broken heart." She gets up, leaving her plate untouched, and walks out of the pavilion. Percy watches her, along with every single other camper who has stopped what they're doing to watch the fight ensue. He looks over to Annabeth, who is looking at him with a frown. He hangs his head, knowing he messed up.

Percy takes a deep breath and gets up to go find Y/N and apologize, but Annabeth is suddenly at his side, hand on his shoulder.

"Let her have some time. That was a lot. I'm sure she'd like to be alone." She says it with a smile, but Percy knows it's his fault and he knows Annabeth blames him too.

"I'm sorry." He mutters, putting his head into his hands.

"I know you are." She tells him, sitting on the bench but not removing her hand. "But she needs time. It was a lot to process." And her mom probably didn't help either, Percy thought, but he didn't want to tell Annabeth about it. He couldn't betray Y/N like that.

"Hopefully she'll be okay." Percy sighs, watching Y/N disappear into the woods.

"She will." Annabeth squeezes his shoulder and then moves to her own table, leaving him alone.

He wishes he had more patience, but he was not known for his patience. It would be fine. He'd apologize when Y/N came back, and he'd have a conversation about not bringing Luke up at every moment.

It would be fine.

Meanwhile, Y/N was stomping through the woods. She knew she was annoying, that everyone was tired of her talking about Luke, but she never expected Percy of all people to get angry with her. She definitely didn't expect him to call her out in front of all the campers.

She was deep in her thoughts when she heard a crack in front of her. Her heart dropped, because even in the middle of the day she was still scared. She had been looking down when she was walking, angry and making sure she wasn't going to trip or step on anything.

When she looks up he's there, holding lavender carnations. Everything stops, her stomach dropping and heart in her throat. She doesn't want to believe her eyes, but then he steps forward.

"They didn't have any roses."

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler (also thanks to the comments from @jadahxx and @commanderfreethatdust who commented on the last fic asking for a part 2 sorry its angst <3)

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 9

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 9: dominating discoveries

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Alastor's magic was all over me, as was he, the second I stepped foot in the house. He was searching for more injuries and sorting through my mind for anything ill will.

"Stop fussing," I said, attempting to push his chest away. His arm was still firmly wrapped around my back, cane in hand, as his other hand trailed over my head and shoulders for the umpteenth time, light as a feather. "My clothes are in worse condition."

"Angelic weapons are dangerous," he stated, "you may not have healed all the way."

"I'm fine. I'm half Angel, remember? But they do hurt like a bitch."

"Your language has gotten worse, my dear."

"I've heard you curse before. Here or there isn't going to hurt anyone." I scratched the healed spot on my nose. His palm came up to cup my cheek, claws cold to the touch despite the extreme warmth of his hand. His red eyes examined me in a long moment of silence.

"Alastor?" I brought him out of his trance.

"Hm?" he hummed, blinking twice.

"Thank you. For not interfering."

He blinked again. "You asked and I obliged. It would not do to make you loathe me again."

"You drive me nuts sometimes," I interlaced my fingers with his on my cheek, "but I don't think I could loathe you."

His smile was light and genuine. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. The brush of his hair on my cheeks, and the feeling of his lips on my skin, brought back our earlier conversation.

"I do believe—" I placed a kiss on his palm. "—I promised some quality time when I returned." His smile seemed slightly strained from the motion.

"I believe you did."

My heart hammered in my chest as I reached up to pull him down to my eye level by his bow tie. "Our bedroom may be a more...preferable space."

He snapped back up and pulled me close. Shadows warped my field of vision, thinning out to reveal the bright red master bedroom. I peeled away from him and took off my partially stained jacket.

"You did amazing tonight," he said from the place we had manifested in. He still had his cane in hand as he watched me drape the coat over a chair and return to him in the center of the room.

"I've done harder things." I leaned my weight into him and ran my hand over his clothed chest. I heard a sharp intake of static. I leaned my head on the front of his shoulder, letting my hand continue to wander down his arm. "How was the talk with Thatcher?"

I felt something jolt in his mind. "He...was not receptive, nor was Nym. They are both now asleep in their beds."

"So you didn't remedy what I had asked." I stepped away from him, watching him try to hide a wince at the loss of magical and physical contact. "Perhaps then we don't need to spend time together. I do need to clean my coat." I walked back to the chair to grab the material. As I pretended to examine it, he appeared behind me so that my back was against his chest.

"I attempted, as you asked." He was using his sweet, unfiltered voice. He was playing nice. I didn't want to, though. I had envisioned so many things during his absence, all thanks to the various books I had picked up.

"I told you to remedy it, not attempt to." I tilted my head at a funny angle to look up at him. His smile was strained but he was trying to keep his chipper tone.

"You know the children best," he tried. "Thatcher is terrified of the smallest of creatures. It will take some time for him to even look in my direction."

"You're telling me the Radio Demon can't handle children?"

"The Radio Demon does not like children," he returned, "but his soulmate does." He gently poked a claw under my chin. "Perhaps you will indulge me, darling? I did well not to interfere, as you requested."

"That's true." I abandoned the coat in exchange for facing him completely. "I suppose you deserve something for that."

He leaned down to allow the kiss. I put my hand behind his head to press harder into his lips. He hummed a laugh as his arm wrapped naturally around my back like he always did.

My other hand trailed down his arm to where he still held onto his cane. I tapped the cold metal twice and sent him a mental message to rid the thing. It disappeared with black and green electricity. It allowed his now free hand to mirror mine on his head. He leaned further over me, bending me backwards and pulling me into him.

As gently as before, I shifted through his brain. I wanted to satisfy my curiosity from earlier but didn't want to let him know what I was looking for; didn't want to run the risk of being pulled out of his mind. So I carefully ran my tongue on his lips and felt him dull his teeth enough for me to meet his tongue. It was enough of a distraction to let me in, his naturally dominating personality taking over of the physical actions.

I gently went back to the memory of my scolding. He was on his knees with my hand squeezing his ear. I pulled him down a second time and when he looked up; that's when I felt it. I searched in that part of his mind, shifting and moving to sit exactly as he was in that moment.

It took another moment of gentle digging to discover a shocking truth:

He had liked it.

He hadn't refused to use his magic against me because he was afraid of my anger, but because he was enjoying the power and aggression I was exhibiting...on him.

I dared another memory. He watched everything unfold at the factory through my eyes. At certain points that same feeling returned.

He was always in control, always had to be, so was it relieving to give it to someone else he trusted instead? Did he trust me like that?

I slithered out of the memory right as he pulled away from the kiss. Both of us were breathless. His antlers had grown a few inches.

"Are you alr—" he didn't get to finish his sentence as I shoved him backwards. I walked him right into the wall, grabbed his chin, and pulled him back down for another kiss. It took him a moment to register what had happened before he gave into the kiss. That same feeling from his memories was rising again.

One arm trapped my waist to his hips while the other grabbed the back of my head. His long, thick tongue was stronger than mine, pressing harshly around my mouth and daring to go too far back. Mine was close to the same length, tangling with his, and never allowing him to keep me in one place.

My free hand reached up to hook around the hem of his jacket. He flinched but didn't stop his advances in the kiss. So I continued, feeling around for how he got this thing off.

There were two buttons hidden under the fabric that were thankfully easy to undo. I sucked in more air through my nose as I slid both hands under the jacket at his shoulders. He detached his hands from me, never once breaking the wet kiss, and let me push it off his arms.

An unspoken thought passed through us: we were not ready to go all the way yet.

But that didn't mean we couldn't do other things. So, I sent an image to his mind before breaking the kiss. I gathered the ridiculously long jacket in my hands, stole a quick glance at him in his red button up, then turned away to hang the jacket on the chair with mine. As I did, my tail lightly trailed up his arm and flicked his hair. His palm brushed against the end as he moved to sit in the vacant chair.

I watched him pull the bow tie off and set it on the table. He then elegantly sat in the chair, arms on the rests, and tilted his head to the side to watch me. I put my hands behind my back and glided over to him. For once I couldn't read his expression. He was holding his flat-tooth smile, canines still large and on display, but his eyebrows were in a neutral spot.

If it wasn't for our magic, I might've thought he didn't want to continue.

But we did have soulmate magic. So I could feel his magic desperately trying to coax me into coming as close as physically possible. I stepped so our legs were somewhat intertwined and reached out, taking his chin in my palm and rubbing my thumb across his smooth skin. He was shorter by an inch or two in the chair but it still made it so he needed to look up to keep eye contact.

Was I actually holding the Radio Demon's face like this? Was he actually allowing me?

I drew my hand away, catching a small noise like a whimper from him, before slamming them on his arms and using extra magic to hold them in place against the armrest.

Alastor bristled.

His teeth sharpened.

I put my weight on his arms and brought both legs up to fold on either side of him, straddling his hips just as we had done the night before his disappearance. I threaded my hands through his hair on the side and made my way up to the base of his ears. His lips parted on a sigh, aggression disappearing as quickly as it had come on, as I gently ran my hands up and down the sensitive appendages.

With his eyes closed, he wasn't expecting my sudden kiss. This time the noise sounded like a squeak in my mouth. I laughed into the kiss, causing his ears to flatten sideways from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, dear," I half mused half meant. I lightly ran my claw along one ear until I reached his antlers. I began scratching around them and watched him fall back into his trance.

"Allow me...to...to touch you," he tried. I could feel how much effort it took him to speak those simple words. My other hand reached behind his head and drew a sharp claw down the back of his head, down his neck, until his collar was in the way. He shivered at the sensation and groaned, eyes peeling open to look at me. "Y-you are doing things t-to me darling."

My hand came down from his antlers to press against his cheek. I brought my face closer so our noses touched. "Good."

A weird staticky noise gurgled in the back of his throat. I felt him push against my magic but I clamped down on it with my shield again. His head made a slight jerk to the side and he peered up with a glare.

"What has brought this on, my dear?" He straightened up and shifted his legs. My tail wrapped around both of his ankles, earning another staticky reaction.

"I've waited eight years to be able to kiss you." I kept my face close but never went in for that kiss. I could feel his mind trying to convince me to close the distance.

"You are doing much more than kissing," he pointed out.

I leaned back and placed my hands on his trapped arms. His eyes instantly looked me up and down. I could hear him begging for skin to skin touch. Though he would never admit it aloud. I would need to be sneaky.

"I'm experimenting." My hands glided up his arms until they reached the red collar. His eyes suddenly gripped mine and I found myself unable to look away. It was almost like a dare; a challenge.

My hands felt what they needed as I began unbuttoning his shirt. I had planned to stop but something compelled me to keep going. My hands moved on their own. There was something warm pumping through my veins.

It wasn't until I had neared his belt that I realized he had been coaxing me. His mind was filling my mind and seemed to have one hell of a grip. I couldn't shake him. Even when he dared to move my hands for my sharp claws to hook on his leather belt. A shot of nerves went through my body.

He brought my hands back up after a chuckle and finally made that desired skin to skin contact on his chest.

He let go of my mind then, licking his lips and leaning comfortably into the chair. I was about to make a remark when I realized I was touching fur. My eyes jumped down to his half exposed chest.

The fur was the same color as his skin and very short. It was soft.

I pushed the sides of shirt to the side to see how far his fur extended. It went down the center of his chest and covered about 3/4 to the sides. It turned to skin near his ribs.

"Just full of surprises," my tone went from surprise to mischief halfway through.

"You can't have all the fun, darling." His hands touched my back, earning a violent flinch from the unexpected contact.

"When did you—"

"You have not trumped me yet, love." His now free hands moved to my waist where his thumbs rubbed the bone hidden beneath my pants. "I've allowed you to have your fun. Now it is my turn."

His arms wrapped around and under me as he abruptly stood up. I clung to his shoulders and wrapped my legs around him on instinct. I kept my tail out of the way of his boots as he landed my back firmly on the mattress.

Not all the way. We thought in union.

With both agreeing on the same idea, it gave plenty of room to see just how far we could go without going all the way.

I kept my legs around his waist as his he looked down at me. He took up most of my vision with that devilish smile of his. He brought my claw to his face where he placed a gentle kiss on it. Seeing him tower over me like this brought on a funny feeling.

He let go of my hand and moved to my shirt. He asked the question through my mind—waited for an answer—before slipping his palm under the fabric to touch my skin.

It burned.

But in a good way.

I could feel how careful he was being. His palms rang over my stomach without his claws poking me, then hooked gently on the side. I started to laugh and pulled his hands off.

"My my, are you tickilish, my dear?" He pressed against my grip to touch the tip of his claw on my side again. I arched funny and brought my feet up to push him away. "I don't think so." He brushed both feet to the side with one arm and climbed all the way on the bed.

His arm hooked my back to drag me further up towards the pillows. He let me drop and ran his claw along my side again. I stifled a yell, somehow able to remember we had children in the other rooms, and pulled on his antlers to make him stop.

His claws left my skin and grabbed my wrists, yanking them off and pinning them to the bed on either side of my head.

I abruptly went still.

He let go of my wrists and leaned on the mattress instead. He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead then leaned back to look in my eyes. He brought the back of his claws against my cheek in his usual way. His smile was small and genuine.

He snapped his fingers to dress both of us in our nightly outfits. I silently slipped under the sheets and waited for him to do the same. As soon as he was laying on his back, I attached myself to his side.

I felt a smooth wave of warmth travel between our minds. He was happy, and a little bit relieved. So I rubbed my face against his shoulder, hooked my one foot on his, wrapped my tail around his ankle, and slipped my hand just barely under his shirt so my palm touched his skin. He was so warm.

I sent him a picture in my mind and let out a sigh of relief when his gentle claw went under my shirt to rest on my back. How cold his claws be cold but his fingers so warm?

He placed another kiss on my forehead.

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Author's Note:

I can't promise what day I'll upload, but I can promise that y'all will be rewarded for your undying patience. Next part is gonna be juicyyyy

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Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall @martinys-world

[thelunarfairy]

i forgot where i read this, about how tsukasa before his disappearance, had no fangs but then after it happened, right when he said to kunishige that his wish will come true, there we see he had them?

This made me think how does tsukasa know the priest will die? Is the entity the one who granted kunishige's wish, as though it can sense someone's hatred and grant death wish upon the hated person? Wasnt there suppose to be a price for the wish? My guess is that the entity slowly take tsukasa's humanity as the price for granting other people's wishes of their hatred.

It also kinda makes sense to me because katakuri said that if someone lingers in the red house (or is it just the sacrificial well? Maybe this to mean if someone lingers WITH the entity) long enough, they will soon lose their sense of self and turn into a soul of hatred

And cant help but think this is exactly whats happening tu tsukasa, from a pure child

To this tsukasa

although it seems to me, instead of being a soul filled with hatred, tsukasa turns into a boy who feels hated by everyone? Was he like that before he sacrificed himself or did the entity convinced him after the sacrifice?

BECAUSE!!!

All we see from tsukasa's childhood, he's playing by himself outside, while Amane cant due to his illness, and the parents, who might spend a little bit more time with amane as they are worried for him than their other healthy child? He gets lonely, as a child would. What if that was why tsukasa thinks (as a child would) his family is happier without him? Thus he feels hated.

AND

Looking back at how the sacrifices were treated before the ritual, as we can see Sumire, is blamed for the supernatural attacks and hated by the villagers. What if the entity feeds on those sacrifices because the hatred placed upon them? And tsukasa, being a boy who feels himself hated by others, the only one who can communicate with the entity of the red house??

Pls dont be overwhelmed by my rambling😭 hope you enjoy reading this, im looking forward for your opinion!!✨

Heelloooo let me say that I loved it!!

Well, it makes sense, it makes sense, but while reading your ideas a crucial difference came to mind between Tsukasa and the other sacrifices.

The others were obligatorily thrown as sacrifices to the entity, while Tsukasa chose to stay by her side.

I believe that the entity may have planned and influenced Amane's health, making Tsukasa feel neglected by his parents and alone.

This would give him the feeling that "he needs a reason to stay".

When you don't feel loved, it's a feeling that can arise and if you let it grow it can be dangerous.

Tsukasa is not afraid of the entity, he teaches it to speak, he spent a lot of time by her side. I usually say that Tsukasa made friends with death.

When you are not afraid of dying, nothing can scare you anymore, right?

Here is the difference. The entity uses Tsukasa as a vessel, he uses his body to move around, in exchange for which Tsukasa can fulfill his wishes.

HOWEVER

Tsukasa fulfills other people's wishes, but HE CHARGES FOR IT. Don't forget that, he always charges the person he granted the wish to.

The entity has bonded with Tsukasa, sometimes you can see it reflected in his eyes and actions, at the same time that he is still Tsukasa.

He still acts like a little boy at times, he doesn't behave like Amane.

He allows the entity to do what it wants at certain times, in the same way that the entity also allows Tsukasa to do what he wants.

Tsukasa is still there, it's him, that look of his is there!

So, Tsukasa going crazy is not something feasible for the entity, because he was the only one who bonded with it out of pure will. Without being afraid, allowing him to use his body.

From the time he was in the red house he says that he could have gone back home, but he didn't want to, and he chose to have the entity go with him.

They are simply "friends."

Tsukasa does what the entity wants. The entity allows him to do what he wants.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Gotta admit to some confusion with the “Max is a sexist” takes? If it’s rooted in how he assumed Marinette didn’t know how to play the game, I could see a bit of merit even if there could be other reasons, especially since it happens in line with Kim’s more expressly sexist attitude of surprise. But when he loses, he congratulates her, and his upset while clear is framed as being completely due to losing his spot in the competition.

Ignoring how his anger was a part of his own private thoughts which HM exploits, Max as an Akuma targeting Marinette instead of Adrien always seemed to me to be due to the fact that she is the one who replaced him. Yes, they both beat him, but Adrien winning didn’t lead to Max losing his spot, Marinette winning did.

Also, the lesson of the day seems squarely centered around how Max deserves to play because he’s the one who really wanted the opportunity, which is why Alya as the writer’s mouthpiece scolds her beforehand about taking it seriously and cinched when Marinette explains why she’s surrendering her position. And while I’m not arguing the episode itself as whole doesn’t contain sexist elements, I feel the writers attempt to avoid that reading by having Adrien surrender his position to Marinette because she is the better player.

For Max, is there perhaps further context than Gamer that I’m just missing? Because I don’t nearly see the same amount of “Kim is a sexist” takes, and unfortunately Max being Black does put him at risk of being held to higher standards than other non-Black characters.

I will do my best to walk through the episode and explain why it makes Max read as sexist to a lot of people. (Or, at least, this is why I think people reach this conclusion. It's why I reach it.)

It's true that Max's reaction to Marinette wanting to play is potentially a little sexist because he assumes that she doesn't know how to play:

Max: The rules are elementary, You battle each other's robots with your own and... Marinette: Please... Every time you win, you loot its items and gain XP, which upgrades your mech. I'm not a noob, thank you very much. Max: Ah, sounds like you have a sufficient amount of knowledge. Let's see if it's enough to beat me.

It's hard to be sure, though, because we don't know if he tried to explain the rules to everyone. I still think it's fair to read it as sexist because it's paired with other characters acting like Marinette can't play, but I also don't think this is a big enough issue to call Max the clear problem of this episode. If he is being sexist, then he's far from the worst one in that scene and his initial reaction to loosing is excellent and without a hint of sexism!

Max: I accept this defeat. I relinquish my position at the tournament. Congratulations, Marinette. And Adrien.

It's also not even remotely sexist that he's upset by his loss and goes on to rant about it as soon as he's alone:

Max: I should've been going to that tournament. I was the chosen one! I worked so hard for it! This is Inconceivable!

While it's not sexist, I would argue that this reaction is something that he needs to work on. If Max wants to be in competitions, then he has to own the fact that he may lose them. This is an issue that we'll get to in a minute. First let's talk about what happens while Max is an akuma.

Even though Adrien and Marinette are together when Gamer attacks, Gamer is only out to get Marinette. He is obsessed with the idea that Marinette should have lost and doesn't care about the Adrien loss.

(Suddenly, the Gamer's robot appears. Marinette and Adrien notice it.) Marinette: Tell me this isn't some kind of publicity stunt for the tournament! Gamer: Well, well. Marinette, let's see who's victorious this time. Adrien: Doesn't look like a publicity stunt to me.

Gamer: Game over, Marinette! Marinette: How does he know my name? Max! (the Gamer's robot fires lasers at her) I guess he really did want that spot in the tournament!

While this makes sense since Marinette is technically the one who cost Max his spot, it doesn't change the fact that this obsession and the earlier framing of Marinette's win make the focus of the episode Max's reaction to Marinette winning. That means that the episode's ultimate lesson will be about the validity of Marinette's win.

This is where Max's part in the sexism really kicks in. Not in the pre-akuma stuff, but the post-akuma stuff. That's where this image comes from:

[Image description: Max and Marinette standing outside of the tournament arena. Max has a sad expression and is refusing to look at Marinette who is awkwardly standing behind him]

As you can see from this image, we don't see post-akuma Max apologizing to Marinette for blaming her when she didn't do anything wrong. Nor do we see post-akuma Max just generally owning his loss, promising to work on taking losses better in the future, and saying something like, "I'll just have to do better next year." Instead, we get post-akuma Max pouting and refusing to even look at Marinette.

This is hardly the behavior of a good loser and yet the story completely validates it. We go from Max pouting to this:

Alya: You bent over backwards to be in the team and now you wanna pull out? Marinette: It's just that I feel so bad for Max. And well, it just wouldn't be right. Alya:(stops her) You're doing the right thing. But honestly, it's not like you get the chance to play with Adrien everyday... Marinette: ...Max? I've thought about this a lot, and... Well, I think you should be playing tonight, Max. Max: What? Marinette: Don't get me wrong! I love gaming, but it's not my heart and soul. This is your baby. It's your tournament, Max. I don't wanna take that away from you.

The appropriate reaction to Marinette's offer is for Max to say, "No Marinette, I'm sorry, I'm behaving terribly. The school is supposed to be represented by the most skilled players. That's you and Adrien, not me. I lost fair and square. I'll work on my skills and get a spot next year." This is how you show character growth and emphasize that Max has moved on from viewing himself as the "chosen one" while unfairly blaming Marinette. Instead we get this:

Max: I don't know how to thank you.

While Max certainly isn't saying anything awful like, "damn right I should be playing you stupid girl," this ending still validates his anger towards Marinette and implies that his behavior was perfectly fine. That it wasn't wrong for him to ignore her until she gave him back "his" spot. That's the sexist element. We should not have seen Max rewarded for treating Marinette poorly and making her feel guilty for daring to win a videogame.

It's important to note that this all happens on the day of the tournament, meaning that it's been days since Max lost and yet he's still mad at Marinette. That's not a great look. At the very least, he should be equally angry at Marinette and Adrien by now. Instead, his anger is still shown to be focused on Marinette as if she is the one and only source of his problems when, in actuality, it was his double loss that cost him his spot. Marinette only knocked him out of the running because Adrien won first. If the order was reversed, then would it be valid for Max to be angry at Adrien? According to the show, I think that the answer is "no." At the very least, I don't see how you can argue that it's clearly "yes" based on what we were given. Adrien's win is treated neutrally by everyone and Adrien letting Marinette play is treated as him being kind while Marinette letting Max play is treated as her righting a wrong.

As others have pointed out, when it comes to Max getting akumatized, what difference does it make if Max loses to Marinette in the preliminaries or to someone else in the main tournament? Do you really think that he'd be fine losing at any point in this competition when he thinks that he's the "chosen one"? At what point is it not cool to hold onto the anger of losing in spite of all your hard work? And why does Marinette's motivation matter when it comes to Max's feelings? He had no idea that she was only playing because she wanted to be Adrien's teammate. All he knows is that she beat him fairly and that she now feels bad about that for some reason.

It's really important for kids to learn that hard work doesn't always lead to a win, but this episode doesn't teach that. Instead it says that it's totally fine for Max to feel wronged and that you should only compete in tournaments if you want to win for the "right" reasons, whatever those are. If you're going to go this route, then at least give Max a noble cause to contrast Marinette's selfish one. As is, he's just as selfish. It's not like he wanted the prize money to save his family from poverty! As far as we know, there is no prize money! He just wanted bragging rights.

What's even more bizarre is that Adrien gives us the lines that Max should have given:

Adrien: Go on, Marinette. You're a hundred times better than me. You belong on the team. Win the tournament for the school. I know you can do it.

What even is this mess? The episode didn't establish that Marinette was better than Adrien! We did get this exchange:

Adrien: Wow! We won again, thanks to you! Marinette: Yeah, um, yes we did. Adrien: We? That was practically all you. You're amazing, Marinette. I guess you wouldn't even need me. I'm so lame compared to you... Marinette: Um, no no no, I... No, you're so good. I mean, I'm the one who's not good. I mean... I'm lucky, that's all.

Leading to Marinette giving Adrien her lucky charm, but this isn't Adrien losing to Marinette. It's just Adrien being impressed by her skills when their team won a match. We never once see Marinette beat Adrien.

There's also the fact that the rest of the episode is focused on Ladybug and Chat Noir gaming together against Gamer, proving that they're the dream team, not Marinette and Max. The logical ending of this plot is for Marinette and Adrien to do the same thing on the civilian side because they're the dream team no matter which side of the masks they're on. Instead we validate Max's anger towards Marinette and tell the little girls at home that it's wrong to show off to boys. How feminist?

It would have played so much better if Max initially took Marinett's spot, but changed his mind after Adrien's line since Adrien's logic isn't unique to Marinette. It applies to Adrien as well and logical Max should have seen that. Why is it right for Adrien to give his spot to the better player while it's fine for Max to take a spot from those who beat him? Shouldn't the best players be the ones to represent the school? Especially when those players have actually been practicing together while Max hasn't done any co-op training? The lesson here makes no sense at all!

It's definitely true that Max isn't the only one who comes across poorly in this episode. Kim, Alya, and Rose's reactions to Marinette's initial win all also play into the "A girl? Playing video games? No way!" issue. Alya and Tikki play into the, "Marinette was in the wrong to ever play because we must be good and virtuous in our motivations and not do things to impress boys" issue. Both of these elements exacerbate how Max comes across by setting a sexist tone to the episode, but that doesn't change the fact that Max completely failed to learn a very valuable lesson, unintentionally making him look like a bit of a sexist loser even without the sexist leadin.

Max's sexism is also heavily exacerbated by some real world issues that are going to impact the way that people view this episode, so let's skim the surface of those rabbit holes because I think we have to acknowledge them to really understand why this episode bothers people.

I'm going to give you some studies here to back up what I'm saying because, when it comes to these sorts of claims, I want to give you something you can evaluate for yourself. I don't want to just talk about known issues as if they're hard facts without any proof and I prefer studies to opinion pieces or articles that mention studies without the details for you to evaluate. However, I will note that I'm limited in what studies I can access because many research papers are stupidly price locked and my public library's research database is pretty limited, so I'm stuck between that and what I can find for free online.

Feel free to reblog this or to send me an ask with suggestions of better studies or books on these topics or even on the topic of the way that black people and characters are held to higher standards because that's certainly a very real issue that's important to keep in mind! We all have unconsious biases from things like the media we watch and the only way to become aware of these biases/learn to look for them is for someone to point them out and for us to do some learning. Like I'm trained to look for sexism by my experiences, but picking up on subtle racism is much harder since I don't have a lifetime of experience to pull from. There are lots of great resources out there, the trick is finding them and maybe even accessing them as I certainly found when I was looking for studies. I'm far from an expert on gender or racial studies. My hobby research field is history.

Issue One: Female Socialization and Those Precious Male Feelings

It is a documented phenomenon that women are socialized to be nurturers. They're taught to prioritize the feelings of others - especially men - over their own wants, needs, and successes. One study on this topic focused on how success effects intimate relationships and noted that:

We find that climbing the societal ladder has positive associations with women’s well-being and relationship outcomes... however, these associations reversed for women who surpassed their partners in social status. ...Among women with higher status than their partner, traditional women intend to adjust their behavior to fit the gender norm (e.g., thinking about reducing work hours in favor of their time at home), whereas egalitarian women did not, but felt guilty toward their partner.

In other words, this study found that women have happier relationships when they don't do as well as their male partners. When they do surpass their male partners, they either try to compensate for that success or tend to feel guilty for failing to compensate.

While this study was about romantic relationships, I don't think that it's a stretch to apply it to platonic relationships, too, especially since we're talking about the messages a TV show is sending to young girls. That's where Gamer comes in. What does that episode have Marinette do when she surpasses her male friend Max? She feels guilty and compensates for daring to be better than him, reinforcing a pretty ugly gendered stereotype.

This type of thing goes beyond interpersonal relationships. It's a well-known issue that women are looked down on when they act too "masculine" in the workforce:

Numerous studies have highlighted that female leaders are evaluated less favorably than their male counterparts when engaging in identical behaviors. For example, using a job-hiring paradigm, past research demonstrated that female candidates who violated the modesty prescription by self-promoting during an interview were evaluated as less likeable and less hireable than self-promoting male candidates.

Gamer was not an instance of Marinette doing something questionable to get close to Adrien. It was her taking her hard-won skills and using them to show off to her crush so that they could get closer, a thing that Adrien was clearly 100% okay with.

This episode should not have been an instance of Marinette being show to be in the wrong. A show that aims to empower little girls should never include an episode where a girl is chastised for daring to self-promote, but that's exactly what Gamer does. It says that Marinette was wrong to put her wants over Max's feelings. What kind of girl power show sends this sort of message? How do you take a woman fairly beating a man and make it a bad thing?

If anything, the message of this episode should have been focused on Marinette being told to NOT feel guilty. After all, that's the far more likely issue for young girls to face. They will have lots of people reminding them to treat others kindly. The message could have also been about winning gracefully and been fine, imo.

Issue Two: Gender Discrimination in Male-Dominated Hobbies

It's a well documented fact that female gamers have long been treated as outsiders by the gaming community as this study discusses:

The researchers played against 1,660 unique gamers and broadcasted pre-recorded audio clips of either a man or a woman speaking... Findings indicate that, on average, the female voice received three times as many negative comments as the male voice or no voice.

Since most of that study is behind a paywall and I don't know if you can access it, I'll also give this openly available study that looked a subset of the recordings from the initial study as it gives you some fine details of what they saw. I think that this second study is a little weird in terms of what it's trying to argue, but the hard data and the research methodology seem fine and that's what I want to focus on here:

We show that lower-skilled players were more hostile towards a female-voiced teammate, especially when performing poorly. In contrast, lower-skilled players behaved submissively towards a male-voiced player in the identical scenario. This difference in gender-directed behavior became more extreme with poorer focal-player performance... Higher-skilled players, in contrast, were more positive towards a female relative to a male teammate.

There's also this study which was free through my public library, so hopefully you can find a way to access it, too, if you want to read the whole thing. For the purposes of this post, I'm just going to highlight some of the statistics and cases that it talks about during its introduction:

Recent studies have suggested that sexual harassments in online games are committed mostly by male gamers against female gamers. For example, in South Korea, one of the countries with the largest per capita gaming populations, players who play the female character Mercy in Overwatch are commonly called by an online slang, Bo-Rcy, which literally means ‘Mercy played by female genitals’ and connotes that women are incapable [of playing] the game. Also, a female professional gamer has been falsely accused of using an illegitimate tool simply because her win rate was too high for a woman.

33% of female gamers experienced gender discrimination, and 57% experienced severe sexual harassment after disclosing their genders. Furthermore, 64% of female World of Warcraft players answered that they experienced various in-game sexism such as exclusion (i.e. removing women from the game-play) or gendered flaming (i.e. using derogatory language specifically against female gamers) Also, a report documented that women are exposed to worse forms of online harassment (e.g. stalking, physical threats, etc.) and that about 44% of Internet users, regardless of their sex, agreed that online gaming is ‘more welcoming toward men’. Overall, it can be concluded that ‘video game culture is actively hostile towards women in the private as well as the professional spheres’

In other words, by having Max only ever blame Marinette for his loss, Gamer has Max acting like a tame version your typical woman-hating gamer who can't handle the fact that they've lost to a girl. This is something that I've seen myself and is part of the reason that I lost interest in online gaming. I even know one girl who had to change her in-game name because it openly acknowledged her gender and got her a ton of harassment. Of course, the guys that we played with blamed her for choosing such a harassment-inviting name because heaven forbid that a woman openly play videogames!

Conclusion

Sexism or no sexism, Gamer undeniably validates Max behaving poorly. The perception of that poor behavior is simply exacerbated by existing gender issues. These real-world problems are why people look so negatively on Max's actions. While his behavior is far from the worst gamer rage that I've ever seen, it does represent a classic, sexist issue in gaming.

If it weren't for all of the complexity around the real-world treatment of talented women in male-dominated spaces or the issue of women being taught to prioritize the feelings of others, then this episode would just be one of those episodes with a nonsense moral. For example, it would still be bad if Adrien was in Marinette's spot, it would just no longer be sexist.

However, we don't live in a world without those issues, so this episodes comes across as hella sexist and Max is the main victim because he's representing some major gendered issues that woman have to deal with. I can name so many real world moments that this episode reminded me of and none of them are happy memories. Every single one of them involves someone telling me to put a man's feelings over my own desire or comfort. This is not the kind of messaging I want to see in shows aimed at young girls.

All that being said, I don't think that Max was supposed to be read as sexist. The writers just did him dirty and made him look terrible when he could have been a wonderful lesson on taking a loss with grace and treating female gamers with respect. After all, as we've already acknowledged, Max did start out handling his loss reasonably well. The rest of the episode just completely undoes that initial good reaction, making it so that a lot of viewers will only remember Max being a pouting sore loser who gets rewarded with the thing that he wanted while Marinette feels guilty and gets lambasted by others for daring to want a spot on the team. I am not surprised that the credited writers for this one are a pair of dudes. I sincerely hope (and assume) that this was them being oblivious to a gendered issue and not anything more malicious.

[i984]

Sweet, Foolish

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, jealous(?) Wednesday Addams, girlie really be in love and just can't tell, you had a great Valentines because people gave you stuff, confession at the ending(?), author still don't know what they're doing.

|Summary|: They say too much of something is never good. Well, too much of something sweet proves different.

|A/n|: Happy Valentines Day, all!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You.

You were driving her crazy.

All smiles and laughs even though you were bedridden. Wednesday feels like slapping the stupid grin off your face. How can someone be so utterly foolish to trap themselves in this situation?

Wednesday has watched the pile of various sweets in your bag grow. Class after class, student after student professed their feelings for you, and with each candy, flower bouquet, and chocolate of many kinds, you kindly returned with bright smiles and grateful remarks. 

It's as if you truly appreciate all the cheesy scenes unfolding around you everywhere you go—something Wednesday would never dream of understanding in a million years. Now though, as you lay on one of the infirmary beds after eating too many sweets, the Addams girl somehow found herself sitting beside your laying body, brows furrowed in annoyance or concern, nobody knows.

It's all those incessant fools' fault.

"What's on your mind, pretty girl?"

"Do not call me that ever again," Wednesday pointedly glares at you when she hears your snicker, "or do you have a death wish?"

You hummed in mock consideration before answering, "Death may already be standing beside my bed with you, Wednesday," You rolled on your back, staring up at the ceiling. "Besides, you are pretty."

You said that to Enid this morning. And to Yoko's black scarf at lunch. And to the block of chocolate stupid Xavier gifted you. The bouquet of flowers and the bottle of honey Eugene shoved at you too. 

"You say that to everyone," Wednesday straightens in her seat, "not that I'm complaining." Her jaw clenches for the umpteenth that day when the smug look on your face grows. "What?"

"Nothing," you mumble, eyes scanning over the ravenette's features, "except for the fact that it's pretty clear you're jealous."

"You have an unconventionally large mouth for someone who claims to have severe stomachache."

"And you have an atypically deep blush for someone who claims to be above— Uh, what did you call it?" You make a show of tapping your fingers to your chin, brows raising almost teasingly. 

Maybe the sweets poisoning will catch up to you. Maybe, you'll die soon. Misery will surely be out my way.

"Oh yeah! 'A pish posh day full of ungodly sickening romance' was it?" you smirk as you raise your chin slightly. "Yet here we are."

There's an undefined silence that fills the air. Wednesday finds herself at a loss for any comebacks. She hates it because the phenomenon only happens when you're around. She also hates it because, with each passing second, your smugness practically suffocates the room. 

Tick. Tock.

The clock sounds obnoxiously louder than usual.

"You know, if I don't know any better, I would say jealousy is a nice color on you."

With your words, Wednesday finds her breathing hitched slightly.

"Good for you, I'm not."

"Not what?" You loll your head to the side.

"Jealous."

"Sure, Wens."

There was another prolonged silence until your mouth opened, "Enid told me something interesting earlier," you said almost conspiringly. "Apparently, someone has been asking her about what can be considered normal to give on Valentines day."

Do not trust anything the werewolf says. Surely nobody would be asking such a 'normal' question. Thing may be the one to do that. Definitely not anyone else, especially not me.

"Don't you wanna know who might've asked it? Or what the normal thing to give is?"

"Absolutely not."

"Incurious, I see," Your voice is tainted in mischief as you roll on your side, facing her. "Dark chocolate tastes quite nice— just saying."

Well. Enid has proven herself untrustworthy. Maybe her roommate deserves the pillow smothering. Wednesday pulls her shoulders back in an attempt to compose herself.

"Agreeable," the ravenette acknowledges carefully. "Though your decision to devour all the teeth-rotting delicacies all at once is not."

"Yeah, yeah," you wave a dismissive hand before propping yourself to sit up straight, resting your back on the headboard. Wednesday watched as you settled into your position before hearing a choked hiss from you.

Wednesday stopped breathing.

You grimaced at the sudden twist in your guts, arms coming to clutch your abdomen, attempting to soothe the discomfort.

If you had refused all those poor excuses of courting methods, maybe you wouldn't need to experience all this. I shall tell off those intrepid dunces next year for you. 

"You're in pain," Wednesday stated. Her face glowers when she trails the creases forming on your forehead.

You chuckle dryly. "Yes, a wonderful observation, Professor Addams. Your intuition amazes me as always," you simper. "I would also like to add that the sweetness is worth the pain. You wouldn't know this, of course. Your taste buds are most likely incapable of tasting sweet."

You're technically incorrect. Wednesday is sure her tastebuds work fine, though her body will reject the highly processed food upon the first swallow.

She'll give you a half point.

Wednesday carefully inspects your expressions. Your eyebrows seem to relax as you take notice of the vase of tulips on your bedside table. Your fingers delicately trace the outlines of the petal, a soft smile tugging at your lips subconsciously. 

I can bring you fresh tulips every morning. If you grow tired of them, I can grow you a different kind. Black dahlias are my favorite. What's yours?

"You look quite foolish, grinning like that," is what she says instead. Wednesday mentally slaps herself in agony, chest-puffing as she takes a deep breath to calm herself.

"Maybe, I am a fool."

Are you upset?

"For you."

"That statement is not the compliment you think it is," Wednesday rips her gaze from your face, eyes rolling in faux annoyance. 

"Oh, come on Wens," you let your head fall back and hit the wall, "don't you get it?"

"Get what?"

You groan openly into the room. "I specifically asked for you to accompany me to the infirmary. Why do you think I did that?"

"To pester me into an early grave?"

"No! I was trying to spend time with you," your hand comes up to massage your head. "I like you, okay?"

Wednesday blinks at your confession. 

Her eyes trail from your slightly scrunched-up nose to the smudged chocolate near the corner of your lips. You don't seem to notice it all this time, and Wednesday feels her fingers twitch at the urge to wipe the stain off you. Pugsley as a toddler had better table manners than you.

You're tolerable, at most.

"You're a fool," Wednesday lets the words out.

But you can see the ghost of a smirk on her face, her shoulders that relaxed, and the slight raise of her chin. 

Grinning ear to ear, you let out your final blow. 

"Your fool."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

|A/n2|: If you see me rush through that ending, no you did not :D It's not Valentines anymore for me, but it might still be for you guys so ye! Forgive me for the weird pacing :")

Tag list is in this post, please interact accordingly if you wish to be added!

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 13/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Luci is the older sib among the Sins but he's the youngest among the Archangels.

I guess technically, he's the suffering middle child.

If y'all see a mention baby bro or little brother in the Prequel, pretend like you didn't see it ;laksldakl;

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

Perhaps Lucifer should've requested a 1 visitor per visit rule just like he should've expected that he's going to get tackled and suffocated in physical affection by the Sins and Charlie as soon as Belphegor opened the door.

Not that he doesn't like the hugs but he's just one tiny guy and he's pretty sure he's about to be buried alive under these giants.

Thank fuck for Belphegor for prying them off of him before he actually suffocated.

Belphegor: What did I say?! What did I just say?! What are you all? Children?!

A gasp and a coughing fit later, he finally calmed down enough to get his breathing steady. He thanks Alastor for the water, taking huge sips to fix his throat.

'Not to self: don't get buried alive. It's not a fun experience.'

He looks over at the now kneeling Charlie and Sins, head bowed as the Sin of Sloth relentlessly scolds them.

Belphegor: -powers in Hell and you can't follow one simple rule? May I remind you all what happens if I'm disobeyed while I'm treating someone?

All: Visiting rights will be stripped off.

Belphegor: That's right. And I am not above putting a ward on any of you to make it stay that way.

Never mess with Dr. Belphegor. As much as Lucifer is amused, he takes pity on his kids (his kids!) and speaks up to save them from the doctor's wrath.

Lucifer: I think they get it, Bel.

The kneeling demons cower as Belphegor sends them one last glare before huffing and went to typing something in her tablet again.

Beelzebub: Sorry for getting carried away, babe. We just got scared.

Asmodeus: Charlie's call really scared us. Did something happen in Heaven?

Satan: Tell me if that bastard Michael did this, I'll go to Heaven myself and beat his ass! In fact, I'm going over there right now. Open a portal.

Leviathan: Christ, Satan. Can you do one minute without thinking of doing something impulsive?

Satan: Don't say that name here! And fuck you! You're one to talk. Which one of us almost obliterated their ring in anger earlier, huh??

Lucifer: Wha- Levi??

Leviathan: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Mammon: Wait, is that why the elevator took so fuckin long to work? I thought I was gonna be stuck there foreva!

Charlie: At least you're all here now!

Charlie's wholesome sentiment made her aunts and uncles coo, wholeheartedly agreeing with her.

Lucifer: My duckie is right. Even though I said I was fine, you all still came for me. I'm starting to feel bad about making you all rush here every time I get hurt.

Satan: Don't you dare. No one is forcing us to be here.

Beelzebub: Right! Plus you always did the same for us.

He remembers those moments. When the rings formed and the Sins grew enough to move and handle them on their own, he was pretty lonely. Sure, he had Lilith, but children brought a different kind of joy with their company.

Plus, he loved indulging in others and all the children wanted was his attention, which he was always so happy to give.

The last person he would've thought to call him for help first was, believe it or not, Leviathan.

Levi had always presented himself as independent, acting like he's not as young as he was. Lucifer saw the aquatic demon's admiration for him, often mimicking how he talks, walks, and even dresses.

Lilith says it's envy (Because what else could it be, Luci? Isn't he the Sin of Envy?) but Lucifer knows better. He knows that Leviathan only looks at him in admiration. He looks at him like he hung the stars. Like Lucifer means something. Like he deserves to be looked at that way.

He doesn't but he's not going to tell young Leviathan that.

Anyway, Levi couldn't get the raging storms of Envy under control despite trying so hard. He was crying, begging Lucifer to believe that he did everything he could but nothing was working.

So he did what every good sibling/pseudo-father wouldo.

He drops everything and headed straight to Envy. In fact, he ran so fast he forgot to tell Lilith he was leaving.

Instead of fixing the situation himself, Lucifer chose that moment to teach Leviathan. He stayed in Envy until the other got it and not once did he berate Levi for not knowing something that wasn't even taught. It was his fault after all that Levi couldn't control it as he should've known that it doesn't come to everyone that easily.

The little scolding he got from Lilith when he came home super late was worth seeing a proud face on little Levi.

Lucifer: And I always will.

When it doesn't look like they're leaving him anytime soon, he figures he could just tell them now. He sat up a little straighter and internally braces himself for the expected uproar.

Lucifer: Heaven is on the verge of a civil war.

He winces. 'Way to rip off the bandaid, Lucifer.'

The room halted. They stared at him as they try to comprehend what he said just said. Then all at once, everyone bursts into screaming and panic, asking questions at him, at each other, at no one, at everyone. It was chaos and Lucifer can feel something rumble inside him. He figures Roo is enjoying all this unfold.

To be fair, he should've thought better than to say something like that out of the blue.

Lucifer: Sorry from dropping a bomb like that suddenly.

Satan: A bomb???

Mammon: Mate, that's a fuckin' nuclear one if I know one! The fuck you mean a war??

Lucifer: A civil war.

Charlie: What? How are we roped in it?? It's not because of the last extermination right?

Belphegor: You couldn't have told us this the moment you arrived?

Satan: Are we involved? Is that why Michael shot a freakin' laser through the sky??

Lucifer: No but-

Beelzebub: Oh god.

Lucifer: Guys, if you just-

Leviathan: Ozzie, how is our forces? Do you think we have enough manpower?

Lucifer: Guys-

Asmodeus: If it's only our fighting forces, then no. I'm sure a lot of demons would be willing to fight. Plus we have the firepower.

Lucifer: I-

Belphegor: Do we even know if angelic weapons would harm a higher ranked angel?

Oh for fucks-

Lucifer: Ê̵̡̟͔͉̱͓͓̪̝̫͙͇̞͛̓͐͒͒̎͒̋͘Ǹ̶̛͙̲̮͓͈̳̗̟̣̊̍͋́̇̀̋̐́̚̕͜O̷͇͔̒̇͋́͋́̓́͂́͆͋̅͘U̴̡̙̫͕̞̩͎̭̤̤͙̠̓̐̊̚͜G̵͖͇̘̘̩̟̗̠̬̐̈́͛́̾̈́̾̍́̈́̏͠͝H̶̢̬͉̯̞͇̯͈͙̜̬͚̟͙̊̈́͋͂̂̾̒̅̈́̆͊͗͂̚͝.̷̧͇͔͖̜̳̲̪̤͇̇͊͑̋͛̾̓͜͜

.

.

.

The room rattles from his voice. He stop his horns and halo from coming out. Lucifer can't see it but everyone else is staring at him in abject horror as his skin turned into a dark, glitchy mess.

He calms himself by taking in deep breathes until the fire in his mouth extinguishes.

Lucifer: Can I speak now?

[violetmuses]

Hummingbird - A. Aretas 💔

Title: Hummingbird - A. Aretas 💔

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: You finally leave prison with Armando Aretas because of the Miami Police Department. 🏷 @nelo0wesker

======

2024

Two portable confinements occupy this large federal transport.

“You good?” Detective Mike Lowrey questioned his estranged son Armando Aretas first.

“Never been better.” Armando grumbled right back.

“We scheduled about forty-five minutes to reach Miami.” Mike said.

The scheduled transfer pulled through, but Aretas didn't celebrate.

Various intel agencies whispered that Conrad Howard muddled with the cartel for years, but Mike Lowrey and his partner Marcus Burnett would prove Cap’s innocence soon enough.

Armando could identify who framed Captain Howard at all.

Meanwhile, Aretas handed one special request before leaving and you joined his departure.

“I'm sorry, but Armando never told us about you before.” Mike steered into confusion regarding your presence.

“It's a long story.” You offered very few details at this point.

“Cartel shit?” Mike crossed both arms while facing your direction.

“No.” You declined. Even Armando glanced over and Mike stopped talking.

Who knows what happened for these unexpected people? Mike thought.

*****

This plotted transfer immediately failed. Unknown experts who lurked from the dark hijacked the transport!

“Get me out of this fucking cage!” Aretas gritted beyond rage.

“Armando!” You shouted near Aretas with genuine fear.

No amount of training or danger could've prepared you for what may happen.

Both Mike and Marcus scrambled to defeat assailants while still trying to avoid everyone's death here. There's no other option right now.

“Here!” Mike hurried to open Armando's cell using this designated key and grabbed Armando right before that cage fell away from this vessel.

“Marcus, where's the other key?!” Mike yelled toward his partner.

“I don't know!” Marcus called this truth without hesitation, and you closed both eyes, awaiting final moments.

Realization and grief would slam down every single moment, but Mike still reached out and stopped Armando from choking Marcus to death.

“Look at me, cariño. Eyes on me.” Rasping English through each silent tear, Armando wanted to see your face during what is possibly his final chance.

When you acknowledge him, those dark brown eyes reveal nothing short of pain.

“I love you.” Your three words break Armando's heart.

“No!”

Right before Mike could lead Armando up front, everyone watched the last moment in terror as you screamed out loud and your confinement dropped from this aircraft.

Though still handcuffed when Mike caught his falling body, Armando Aretas hobbled to the cockpit and yelled through directions for landing.

“Ah, grab the stick!” Aretas continues revealing his frustration.

“When the hell did you learn how to fly?!” Marcus spoke up once more, but Armando completely ignored Burnett and led this safeguard.

The helicopter crashes right through large ripples of unknown water, but all three men survived this absolute nightmare.

________

Drenched from top to bottom here, Armando Aretas stands in his ruined orange prison uniform to walk alone, still ignoring Lowrey and Burnett.

Tears sting both eyes with each passing step as he moves in these woods. Even the brightness of that warm sun clouded through his storming mind.

While Aretas vowed protection for so long, one stranger's mistake killed you.

“Armando!” Mike yelled his name over and over again, but Aretas just kept walking.

When Armando looks ahead, your body lays out near grass and dirt, almost stopping his chances to breathe.

“Baby…”Armando knelt and took you in his arms despite witnessing horror.

Cold. You've chilled like brisk air against his familiar touch and your kind heartbeat no longer exists.

“Arman….” Mike and Marcus finally catch up with Armando, but each man pauses through more realization.

“Get away from her!” Armando rasped once more while facing the detectives.

“I'm sorry, man.” Marcus wanted to apologize, but Mike stopped him.

“Shut the fuck up, Marcus!” Mike then gritted his teeth. Enough was enough. “You got her killed.”

“No….” Out of nowhere, truth overwhelmed Marcus when he randomly checked his pocket.

Somehow, your second key remained in place all along.

[drippingmoon]

Merry new year to everyone, again! 🥳💞🥂

I know it wasn’t an event this year, but writing a yearly wrap-up is really therapeutic, you know? So I decided to continue the tradition, and if anyone wants to join me, absolutely view this as an open invitation^^ Introduction is over, and now let’s see what 2023 looked like:

(spoilers: I adored it. I'm also probably going to make this my fixed post, in case anyone ever wants to catch up with me. And also because my second baby, AoS, is growing, and it doesn't have an intro, but I can't leave it out.)

Stats

Aquiver, Aglow: 181k (draft 4) + 195k (draft 5) + hmm, draft 6 is an outlier, because I didn’t rewrite from scratch, so I’m unsure of the written word count. I didn’t change much from draft 5, so I’d say an extra 15-20k. Total word count: 376k+

Remains of a Night: 120k 

Aberration of Sunlight: 134k

This was definitely my most productive year to date. And I got so hungry: the more I wrote, the more I just wanted to keep writing, and honestly? I’m proudest of myself for literally carving writing time whenever I got a spot into my schedule. Mostly it was from 8pm-11pm, but I had a mad run where my only free window was from 1am till I literally felt I was dying… I’ll talk about that separately🤣🤣👌

Though, I'm seriously understating it.

Like a lot of other people, I would have all these hours when I was younger when I didn't have anything to do, yet I'd still find some excuse not to write. "I'm waiting for the right time." "I'm anxious I'm not going to get it right." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I can start right from the morning, and I'll have more time to write, yeah?" or "I'm too tired now, it's late..." and so the snowball rolled down and downhill and I found every reason under the sun not to write, now that I think about it. Sigh. So much time wasted. But I can't regret it either, because I needed those baby steps at that time.

And now! Now I do what I thought I'd never learn to: I prioritize, and I actually organize my daily stuff so it's not so impossible anymore to have a little bit of writing time. I don't take it for granted either. It feels like such character growth for me, I'm immensely proud of it.

And for the record? This year was a huge improvement over yesteryear mentally, too. It turns out, what I needed to get over my word count anxiety… was to be faced with people who literally didn’t give a fuck about it, and just cared about the story. One of the most unexpected things beta stage managed to do to me… was to quench all my anxieties. It’s as simple as that. I read and enjoy very long books. People also do that. So, I’m very happy to say I’m no longer in a tizzy about ‘quiv. It might kill my chances for trad publishing, it might not. I’ll be happy come what may.

Because it’s so simple how working on ‘quiv or thinking about it makes me joyous, and now I can just enjoy that freely. I will miss writing this story so much. I really will. But at least I’ll have it forever to reread, and I hope this thought brings comfort to everyone who also has problems letting go, like it does to me.

Let’s break it down a little, shall we?🤩

Aquiver, Aglow◇◇◇

My little star of the hour. How fond I am of it.

Like you could glean from above, ‘quiv went through three drafts this year. More specifically: in the first part of the year, practically almost as soon as February arrived. I knew it was getting closer to the final version, and gave me the push to finish all three back to back. I couldn’t justify anymore the bazillion AUs I do with rewrites (basically, WHAT IFs from events, WHAT IF it went this different way, WHAT IF Tyrone actually said this here… and so on and so forth. I wanted to test out as many pathways as possible, and did I exhaust every one of them in existence? Definitely not. I don’t think that can happen, you just keep getting new ideas. On and on. What happened, instead, is that these couple different pathways, at some point, cemented themselves as canon in my mind. I didn’t want to tease myself with alternatives anymore, and that’s when I knew they would be it. Some bits from the first draft, some from the third, some from the second. Some were even draft 6 originals!

It’s a bit of a weird process. I definitely didn’t need to reach draft 3, and meet Mezusa, because I could’ve feasibly made it work with just Yles in the story. It still would’ve made sense, though in a different way. But if I hadn’t… I might’ve missed one of the best characters I’ll ever probably have created, and the story (and Yles) is much stronger for her, if you ask me. 

For that matter, yes, full rewrites every single draft might take a lot of time and effort, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever change my writing process (save for the moments of frustration when I think I will lol) because of the sheer satisfaction of it. Whoever said so long never to settle on the first version, I owe you a beer and probably some curses as well lmao, but very lovingly. You shaped my writing life.

I don’t have much else to share about ‘quiv, other than it’s off with my beta readers my beloved, and maybe a tentative promise that, if anyone wants, you’ll be able to read this precious ball of hope of mine relatively soon. This story is so gentle to me. And as much as I loved to write and work on it, I dearly hope that whoever decides to give it a go, is treated just the same. That’s the only wish I have.

I also don’t know if I’ll go trad or self-published. Instincts say trad, because I fuckin’ suck at marketing (fact), and I know I’d grow resentful if I’d have to put so many hours into advertising when I know I could instead… write. I’m a writer. That’s the only thing I know how to do. Trad, however, might not be as kind on a ~200k as life’s been, so I might not have a choice. If it comes down to that… I’ll just treat it as I do everything. I don't love this story any less if I just write, publish without a fuss, hope that maybe, just maybe, a reader or two will stumble upon the story and we could talk. Maybe we can have the fun of our lives, create some genuine connection. I know that’s applies to a lot of writers. I hope we can accomplish it.

And so, I’ll finish this section of the wrap-up with a kiss to my ‘quiv, for all the warmth it’s ever brought me. It’s come so far, I know it can live distinct from me from now on. It brings me great comfort. And I look forward to the times I’ll reread it, and we can relive our best experiences together. Never thought I’d get to this point. Thank you, ‘quiv.

Remains of a Night♤♤♤

Mwhahaha! And because ‘quiv took all the pressure, this left AoS to be an extremely fun and spirited experience. Literally the chillest I’ve ever been writing. In many ways, it’s more my thing than I expected ‘quiv to be: I get to murder characters left and right, it’s more plot-heavy and banking on the tension created by a creature that horrifies the characters down to their marrow, but still the only way to defeat it is to know it better, which, uh, might have unpleasant consequences for them. It’s got chase and stealth scenes, and it always shoots me with adrenaline to think about them. In short, exactly my jam.

It’s not a new book, nope. You knew it before as Aberration of Sunlight, but from the get-go I felt it would be bigger than ‘quiv. Very fortunately for me, I had a place where to break it, and behold: there’s RoaN (book 1), and AoS (book 2). There might be a third book, which I dearly hope not because titling sucks, but it depends on the Sycamine arc. More on that in AoS.

One last thing to note, before we delve into the story (hoo-ray for earlier drafts, because I can talk more frankly about them). This is the culprit of my 1am writing adventures!!😫❤ My schedule became too packed, then NaNo came round and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to honor how AoS began, because it was last year’s NaNo, aaand I’m happy to say I won NaNo, somehow, with 56k down before I died. At that time, I only had one section left to write (from both books), otherwise, hahahaha, yeah, it wouldn’t have flown. Still, most of draft 2 I’d written in September-October, with my fairy lights, late nights, and cups of hot cocoa, exactly like how life should be<3

Alright. We’re going through them chapter-by-chapter again, exactly because I love seeing the titles so much:

ACT 1

Cracked Visor, Scorpion Grass

I did it! I did! Twas another shower thought I managed to get down in time. Bare broken sentences, but they did the impossible, and arranged this chapter into a structure I adore to bits and won't ever change. (And 'quiv's naughty voice left me alone for once and I could write it properly!) While I don't think I'll ever be happy with a first chapter (not as a concept, but the writing — part of me will always wish that the reader just had all the information already lol), this one is in the right place.

It pays its respects to the story of the broken helmet at the foot of a spaceship, and how it reconnects Madigan with all the people who'd suffered from being tethered to the planets when they yearned to fly, but the Beast punished them cruelly for it. It makes him feel phantoms of their efforts. The tone is exactly what I needed this story to start from: melancholy and numbly hopeless, against the backdrop of the Beasts's echoed cries.

Rain Through the Universe

Unlike 'quiv, because RoaN and AoS are way more plot-heavy, it's not as easy to change things willy-nilly (whereas 'quiv was all about character bonds and dynamics). As such, it's very similar to draft 1. Because of that, I'll frankendraft next (select and combine drafts 1 and 2, rewrite to connect them) and afterwards I'll try something I've always wanted to. (Scrivener keeps hinting at it!) I'm gonna split the chapters into scenes, and focus on those individually and how I can just rewrite them and set their purpose in stone<3 I'm excited!

As for the chapter itself, gods, I love the atmosphere. Just the wreckage of a sundered ship, and Madigan’s sudden madman appearance making a lasting impression on Spica, because how could it not. They no longer answer distress calls in that age, it just means more dead bodies. In fact, they're forbidden to. Madigan instead brings him what he himself lacks: hope. And a lot of crawling around while dreading the Beast's lambent eye opening, and oh my, the moments are really flying by😈👏 extreme fun for me as the writer.

Aberration of Light

If you remember, the books follow two timelines, which will connect at some point. The first and main one is Madigan and Spica’s story. The other is Holloway’s, in the distant past of that universe, and who’s been dubbed the most selfish man in existence. That’s important, because of how the Beast came to be. But that becomes important later. For now, a weird-ass new recruit has joined the ship, and the witchy crew will very soon start making bets if she’s the Beast in human flesh, which really wouldn’t bode well for their future.

Night Falls On Their Reflection

Draft 2 became Spica’s draft. It was high time. He didn't exist in the original idea beyond chapter 2, but he refused to die with his story untold. And now he's one of the most independent thinkers I've ever written. Now he's Madigan's son (yes, even at 25), best friend, back-to-back partner all in one, and I could watch the trust and mutual respect between these two forever. To be sure: Madigan comes up with the dumbass plans, and Spica's only too happy to follow him through everything (it is good fun.)

He's repaying the incredible kindness Madigan's shown him when answering his distress call, after all.

But it goes a bit further than that, doesn't it? Madigan is used to watching over myriad people. He's the Superintendent of his planet, and while he genuinely loves people, kindness is his default. It doesn't go further than that for him. He doesn't necessarily think people need, much less desire his presence there beyond Madigan extending help, and most of the time, he's content with that. Kindness does make him happy. And it should be the same with Spica now, shouldn't it? He's kind, but he's not Spica's family, nor ever will be. Yet he immediately feels a connection with the boy, that has nothing to do with bonding over escaping-a-cosmic-disaster. And so does Spica.

This is the moment when Madigan starts feeling guilty, for stepping where he should not. But here's the beauty of Spica's character: he's nothing if not dead sure of his own feelings, and what he sees with his eyes. It's okay if Madigan keeps unexpectedly taking steps back. For very long, there'd been nobody to support Spica's beliefs. So he does the same, as when he followed his heart to go into dead space: he believes in himself and Madigan, and that their paths aren't meant to diverge. They mean too much to each other for that to ever happen.

(In short, and legend says you can still hear me screeching about these two ten thousand years later, I love these two so much, and especially the parallels between Spica going alone into outer space and loving Madigan.)

(And, okay, obviously all these developments don't happen in a single chapter, but I couldn't stop gushing🤭🥰.)

Who Puts These Tombs in Ice

Overall, I think draft 2’s Luitgart performed worse than draft 1. Mainly it's the setting I want to revert (still an icy, sempiternally dark hell, but with different ice constructions) because some of the beats are a huge improvement, and again, I gotta combine the two. Otherwise, I’m still as obsessed about the Luitgart arc as I’ve ever been, and huge thanks to it for being so strong it could function as an ending of its own, allowing me to split the book.

Gettin’ into spoilery territory, but I have to un-kill Madigan so many times it leaves me in hysterics. That was what I was supposed to fix this draft. It got worse. Considerably.

(One constant: the chapter being a love letter to Madigan, and how his first answer will always be to help the other, no matter if they deserve it or not<3 and finally, finally, he gets acknowledged for it, and the favor returned.)

ACT 2

Lemon-Dotted Days + Remnant

Two Holloway chapters! I’m actually massively pleased with how they’ve turned out. Last year, I said the main issue was that I had an outline, and that never works for me. So I did what I do best and rewrote everything from scratch, and the result is both uncanny and… unexpected.

Unexpected, because I never in my life thought Holloway’s voice would make me laugh so much. He’s supposed to be unsympathetic, but then you get his interactions with Saintlark (the new crewmate, possibly Beast) where they’re contemplating the harvest of a nebula, and he’s harshly critical of it, which gives Saintlark hope… only to go deadpan One Moment Later: if they’d used the nebula to prolong their lives instead of bolstering the war, they wouldn’t have died like clown idiots. 

And, they could’ve maybe stolen immortality from the nebula. They would've had to share it with him, of course. Or he would've murdered them to get it.

That, my guys, is his personality in a nutshell.

I have a lot of feelings on Holloway now, and most involve me huffing and slapping my forehead while groaning, but oh my gods. Was it ever so fun. And wait, wait, wait. Since I'm talking of humor (apparently a lot of comedy fit into this horror lmfao) I have to show you guys the following section🤣🤣👏:

Corpse Snow

The drifters are set howling on the ice. They share glances, five separate vehicles nodding at each other. Madigan revs up the engine, splitting the air with a jet of steam and vibration.

The last of the marines are climbing into the box. A figure flashes past Madigan’s drifter — and he leans over, teeth grinding because of his ribs, and he does his very best to grab someone by the back of their suit and pull. Workout days were never his strength, though. He only succeeds in stopping them in the frost smoke.

It’s Spica dangling from his hand, expressionless.

Lieutenant Hahn instantly seizes on the situation. He throws Madigan a long, withering look. “Whatcha doing, Boss?” he asks softly, about to unhinge his jaw again.

Madigan nudges Spica into the drifter. “Picking up your boy.”

Spica gets the hint and deposits himself into the front seat, glancing from his father to his Superintendent. He seems to give up on whatever’s going on, and makes himself cozy in the frosty spot. And Madigan, of course, pretends not to notice Hahn’s drifter sliding closer.

“And you didn’t consider I might want to have my son with me?”

Madigan looks up and sighs. “Lieutenant, dear Lieutenant,” he starts pleadingly. “Why won’t you show some leniency to a poor, wounded man?”

Hahn’s drifter stops, summoning a breeze across the icy floor that gently rocks the other vehicle. His breathing distorts the comms with static. “And what exactly is my son right now?”

“My trusty navigator,” Madigan answers easily.

“Sir’s emotional walking stick?” Spica pipes in at the same time.

They both look over. Spica’s quietly turned to the navigation, as serene as daylight, seemingly oblivious to how Madigan's expression changes, lightning-fast. He quickly hides it under the guise of a polite mask, as the marines stir and turn their attention on them. They’re snickering.

Lieutenant Hahn throws up his hands, giving up on everything.

This is also the first 30k chapter I’ve ever written. It's everything I've ever wanted to do with ice.

Heart of the Void

The end of the book. Originally, it was the ending section to Corpse Snow, but since it already got so ungodly long, I chipped off that bit and I have to say I’m very happy with how it works as an epilogue! So it ends the frosty, weary journey, and I can’t see the two books as separate yet, but here we bid goodbye to the first.

Aberration of Sunlight♧♧♧

I did the unthinkable and created a fifth arc. This might not seem like much to you, but I was screaming bloody murder you guys😭😭😭. Sigh. It’s so sigh. For so long, AoS consisted of four clear-cut acts, but it was necessary. With the introduction of Sycamine, and making it two books, it was just needed. It’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever done because I was used to four😃💔

(The chapters continue from where RoaN left off – from chapter 10, to 21.)

ACT 3

Retro Spectrum

Sycamine, oh Sycamine. Definitely the break I needed before Days in Darkness. It made for a really neat beginning. It’s calmer, focusing on the knowledge they have on the Beast. It’s also a reflection on Procyon (their main star) and the story of the two straggler dog constellations, and what they'd been running away from. I liked the direction it took. It veered away from the Beast for a bit, so the tension kept expanding in the background. And when it returns, well... maybe they shouldn't have been so eager to see it again🤭.

It suffers from the same syndrome as draft 1’s first chapter… it’s there in the vicinity of the idea, but too much to the left. Not bad for a first attempt. The setting annoys me – I really don't enjoy writing cities, and AoS didn't change that. So, for our next try, I was thinking... maybe we don't need to be on the planet, but up close and veeery personal with it. It's a secret❤.

And, oh gods. I put a moustache-twirling villain in this. And then I couldn’t stop myself from naming some sucker Sweetman Calories. I don’t know what happened to me during those days, but I’m crying🤣🤣🤣.

Toast to the Light

Holloway and Saintlark’s story is slowly coming to an end. Unexpectedly bleaker than draft 1, yet it feels much more sincere. Holloway has a way of saying everything Saintlark needs to hear. No surprise. They did that to themselves.

Dissonant Recognition

Ahhhh, the Madigan-is-slowly-losing-his-grip-on-reality chapter, or maybe he should really stop staring into the suns. One of my favorites<3 Also because it features Moren (!!!) who has a blast staying in the grey morality area, because she doesn’t know if her actions could ever matter, or if she could change anything. Does she just exist? Is she a player or just pawn? Who knows. Besides that, she gets along great with Spica. They form such a teasing duo, the level of mutual respect they felt for each other on sight was a delight to write. My favorite ally of theirs, even if her destiny lies elsewhere.

Night Beneath the Elevator

Best title hands down, dethroning Solgesis. I’m going batshit crazy about the visuals, it's exactly my thing. This half-light slanted over an elevator waiting in a rundown basement to be boarded. And there's something underneath it, and always has been. Something insidiously creeping up and waving its tendril fingers at you as you're just waiting for the fucking thing to ascend. Immaculate, guys, I'm telling you, and I'm cursing my hands because I can't make a wallpaper of this. I want to eat that atmosphere.

Time-sensitive missions, y'all.

And why the heck did nobody inform me I was going to add Command as an actual character and have them talk with Madigan?! That entire convo, made up entirely on the spot but somehow with a direction, made me realize what an idiot I’d been for not doing it sooner. They mean so much to Madigan, after all.

(And Mariya. So much Mariya in these chapters.)

ACT 4

Loop System

Like Who Puts These Tombs in Ice, draft 1 might’ve done it better. Not Spica and Madigan, though, because of the sheer development Spica’s been through and the dynamic he’s managed to form with the crew. It's different from Madigan’s, but similar enough that it’s got Hahn commenting lightly: [Spica’s] picked up quite a few habits from Madigan, hasn’t he? Almost as if they’ve gotten very very close, huh? How about Madigan tell him more?

(I adore writing Hahn.)

Outreach

Another Holloway chapter. Doesn’t have the punch of the kids subplot from draft 1, but this just makes it worse for Saintlark personally, because, this time, the consequences are on her.

Days in Darkness

I knew the moment I first got the idea this would be my favorite chapter. Well, it finally happened in draft 2: when the entire crew is here, this time, and ready for the final countdown, to relive the experience of being trapped in a ship that's disintegrating. No more heroes left behind. I'd been so tired writing this chapter in draft 1, but this time around it was incredible. Everything went up sharply from here, both in terms of events and how on fire I was.

(Maybe less than the gorgon, but I was.)

ACT 5

Echo Terminal

The first of the two log chapters.

I've never written smoother, more visual chapters than in this period. Days in Darkness changed me so much, I was writing day and night by this point and couldn't get enough. Well, I hit my limit in the second half of the very last chapter, but I am beyond satisfied. Even the Beast's metamorphosis took me by storm, because I'd been wondering what the final verbs, the final images, the final design for it was going to be. I didn't expect it to come to me this early, and with such thrill. Those were my very best days of the year, and I toast to them.

(And I knew it was going to be fantastic when Halo's Warthog Run OST started blaring in my head, with as much adrenaline.)

Where, Now? + Solgesis

My beloved. The second and last of the two log chapters, but it’s Noelle Saintlark’s log.

Holloway’s timeline ends here. Or maybe it just gets carried into the future. I thought I’d want to rewrite his parts again, make the plot just a tiny bit more psychedelic and nonsensical because it’s so close to the Beast… but Solgesis put all my fears to rest. Even the formatting and layout is a bit of that special thing I’ve always wanted to try, and it really changes the perspective of the previous chapters. There's a new confession that stands at the heart of Holloway's stories.

Honestly, the only thing that needs urgent working on is the anger at the end of the chapter.

Anger is so hard for me to write sometimes. Not because I don’t connect with it, but because I feel self-conscious writing it. The wildest I felt it was when I tackled 'quiv's chapter 3 and Imera's Turning speech, both in quick succession (before I'd even written draft 1. I'd been taking notes.) Since then... I just thing back to how keenly I'd felt that anger, and I kind of intimidate myself out of it. Kind of like a natural resistence, I quench it from myself. Which is actually hilarious when you think about it. It’s like I’m going I BANISH THEE FROM MY BRAIN because generally, as a person, I dislike feeling and operating on anger. But no worries. I’m going to find a way around it.

Watch me😎.

What Goes Around…

(Now it’s the time for me to start crying some rivers, and, alright, it won’t be visible so I’ll say it: the chapter titles are holding a conversation, guys. They speak to each other. And sometimes it’s both sides of the same coin, like how What Goes Around (comes around) hints here. If you take two chapters, one from the beginning and one from the end (for example 1 and 21) it'll tell you a little secret. Okay, What Goes Around and Rain Through the Universe communicate through their plot, which I can’t spoil but of course it has to do with Madigan and Spica and how they first meet… but there is one title pair that does it best visibly. 

Lemon-Dotted Days and Days in Darkness.

And I hadn’t even planned this. All the parallels I wanted to draw… I feel like they built themselves, guys. They really did, and it makes me so wildly happy I don’t even know how to stop my hands from flailing.

And, with them being 21 chapters, they meet in the middle, on the one unpaired chapter.

Called Toast to the Light.

I friggin’ love everything.

New Sunrise, Forget-Me-Right

Of course, Forget-Me-Right is a play on Scorpion Grass. But it’s also such a gentle name for the chapter, because everything ends here. Lying on their backs, staring out into the universe, and it really, really is over. Just a dark horizon on which stars flare and bloom. And suddenly, that maddened rush to make every sacrifice count, to remember every soul they’ve encountered because the legend says the Beast absorbs you when it kills you – all that suffocating pressure dissipates. Lightness remains. Because they’ve protected each other.

For the first time in my writing journey, blood rushed to my head with such emotion I had to stop writing, which never happens. I had to look up and exclaim, holy fuck. But how could I not, considering how the story ends for the Beast? I am speechless. A lot of gorgeous surprises this draft.

Conclusion□●□

Whew, what a year it's been! As for how 2024 will probably look like, though I don't like making plans: finishing the beta stage for 'quiv, and tackling RoaN and AoS's draft 3. Thaaaat one I'm actually starting on Christmas, when I can (finally!!) reread draft 2 with my mug of hot cocoa (or maybe mulled wine for a change) and, no surprises here, I'm hyper stoked for that<3 <3 <3 I legit can't wait to see where the new draft brings them. I might not have set any expectations for them, but they're vying to keep up with 'quiv and I adore it🤭❤

As for my lovely friends... well, you know by how I spam your tags how much I adore you and wish you happiness forever🤩🥺🥳 I don't know what my activity will look like in the near future, so for now I won't be saying anything, and my semi-hiatus continues. Semi, because you're unforgettable and I crave to see what everyone's been up to and (!!!!) what you've written!

So let's meet in 2024 again, and all the best wishes to you, the reader🥰🥂❤.

[sturniolo-mairead]

"Slut!"

LetsTripTour!MattSturniolo x Popstar!Reader

a/n: in this fic i dont use y/n, i may in some future fics if i cant come up with a name 😭🙏🏻 Hope you guys enjoy, its my first fic!

in which Matt Sturniolo announces his girlfriend of 6 months. Presley Evans, global popstar! Nick and Chris are shocked because they didnt even know. Shes on tour down the road from the triplets' tour. he has the camera footage that would be on the big screen of her stage. They decide to watch her tour on their screen and they figure out she wrote quite a few songs about him! they soon meet up at matts hotel room later on.

warnings: use of the word slut, like a lot 😭🙏🏻

Matts pov:

"Next question, 'does anyone have girlfriends or in nicks case a boyfriend' Well i'm very much single" my brother said. Shit. I've had a secret girlfriend for 6 months now. We have talked about going public. She said shes okay with it. It's just difficult because shes a global superstar! It's been stressing me out. I think i'm just gonna say it. I'll tell everyone here.

Presley pov:

Im about to go on stage. I talked to matt last night about going public with our relationship. It's kind of getting exhausting having to sneak around. I've been a target for slut shaming because of how many guys ive dated, but i got into the industry when i was 15! It's not my fault. My managers say it's good for 'traction' or whatever. I sent matt the camera footage that would be on the big screen of the stage. Im performing in a stadium tonight, it's my all stadium tour. I just hope he tells his crowd, thats coincidentally, down the road from the stadium. He could connect his phone to the screen behind him and his brothers and show them my show, but i don't know if he will. I understand his anxiety thats going to come with going public, especially him now going to have paparazzi following him and his brothers everywhere, and me. He's gonna be more worried about me than he's ever been before because of his female fan base, they'll send me death threats and hate, more than i normally get. It's not like I'm not used to it though. I just hope he does whats right for himself and how he's feeling. I don't want him to feel pressured to tell everyone because I am ready to.

Matts pov:

"Nah i'm still single, sadly." chris said. I stayed silent. I could just spit it out. "Matt? we all know your single" chris teased. "actually.. I do have a girlfriend." i spat out. "WHAT?" nick said, he was as shocked as he should be. "yeah, we've been talking and we think we want to go public. She is a celebrity," i went on, "her name is Presley, Presley Evans." The crowd went wild. "SO ALL THOSE TIMES IVE SCREAMED HER SONGS IN THE CAR YOU DIDNT THINK TO TELL ME YOU WERE DATING HER?!" I laughed, "i guess not, I have camera footage thats om the big screen of her tour thats going on right now, i could put it on?" i suggested.

Presley pov:

"Presley! Time to go in 5!" one of my managers told me. "Okay! coming!" i say, Matt told me he'd text me if he told everyone, and he hasnt texted me. Im starting to lose hope when, Ding! i rush to check my phone. Twitter. Not matt.

'Matt Sturniolo comes out saying hes dating global superstar Presley Evans!'

holy shit. he did it. I laugh and squeal as i jump in my bedazzled heel boots. "Presley? what happened? are you okay?" my manager asks. "HE DID IT!! HE TOLD EVERYONE!!" i scream and jump around and laugh. "Presley, are you serious?!" my manager says, she seems angry? "whats wrong?" "Presley! this could be so bad! you'll become a lightning rod for slut shaming!! His fan base is mostly girls, they'll be angry! You could be in danger! You didn't even ask me if it's a good idea!" My manager yelled. I hate to say it, she was right. I probably should've informed her i would do this. But she is not allowed to shit on my relationship. I wanted it to go public. "Listen, Trina. This is my relationship. I know where you're coming from, a place of worry. But i know i've been through worse. You were with me since i was 15, you know how strong i am. I appreciate the worry, but let me do my thing. Ive been hiding my relationship for 6 months. Putting Matt in the shadows. Im done doing that. I love him. Thats never going to change. Let me do things- no. Let me and Matt do things our way. Now i have to get to the stage. Thanks for the input." I finished. I walked away, I had on my white bedazzled heel-boots with my skirt that was tied on one side up, showing my whole thigh. the rest barley covered anything which was good because i had on a white bodysuit under. I had on a corset top. It was all white, the whole outfit. I looked amazing, i checked myself out as i walked past a mirror. I heard music start up, somebody came and handed me my mic as i walked toward the piece of my stage that moved up and down. I stood in the center preparing to go on.

Matt pov

I put on her show on the screen. I hear music start. Just in time. Everyone's eyes are glued to the screen. I look around, nobody recognized the opening notes.? I didn't either. As far as i know, theres no songs about me. As far as i know.

"Flamingo pink"

I really don't recognize this song, i feel terrible that i don't.

"sunrise boulevard, clink clink. being this young is art."

"who do you guys think this song is about?" nick asked. I know of all her exes. They all treated her like shit. I am determined to be different. I think this is a love song? she has some love songs, then breakup songs after because they put her through hell. I'd never do that, I will never.

"Being this young is art Aquamarine Moonlit swimming pool"

This could be anything, we're both still very young. Shes 20, Im 19. I turn 20 soon.

"What if all I need is you?"

So it is a love song.. i wonder which ex it's about? Maybe Johnny Orlando? (no hate to Johnny Orlando fans just needed an ex lmfao 😭) We all just stand and admire her. She looks gorgeous. Fucking beautiful, How do you fumble her? Shes like a goddess. "Maybe this songs about you lover boy" Chris says, jesus christ i hate that fucking nickname. "shut the fuck up chris! And i don't know, i don't know if she has songs about me" I say, I wish she had written a song about me.

"Everyone wants him,That was my crime The wrong place at the right time. And I break down, then he's pullin' me in. In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"

she always refers to me as a gentleman, she always says everyone wants me too.. "HOLY SHIT!" I scream, i didn't mean to, i just did. "What?!" nick said, "THIS SONGS ABOUT ME!!" "BITCH WHAT?!" "oh my god" i say.

Presley pov

I open with "slut!", a song about matt. I never tell him any songs a write about him because, well, theres a lot. I don't wanna seem creepy, but constantly writing songs about one person could be taken that way. I hope he catches on though. I always say everyone wants him and I always call him a gentleman. "And if they call me a slut. You know it might be worth it for once. And if I'm gonna be drunk. Might as well be drunk in love" I finish the song. I don't know what matts thinking, i don't even know if he was watching, i put on my best show nonetheless, just in case he was. I didn't want to disappoint him. Should i tell the crowd the songs about him? Maybe i will. "Hello! and welcome to the "Slut!" tour!"

A/N

cliffhanger! Okay so i've had this idea for a long while now i've just never gone through with writing it but i finally have! This gonna be a series and it's gonna be like every song she performs is a different chapter! This chapter is "Slut!" and thats also the name of the album! I've taken songs that already exist and made a whole new playlist/album type thing! Each song will be a surprise as the next chapter title! In total im thinking 19 parts as there are 18 tracks and then 1 extra chapter for after the tour when taylor and matt meet up 😉 I'll also be working on making my masterlist so you guys can easily access this series! See you next time 💕

[britt-kageryuu]

A stream is starting with Leo hosting, his starting soon screen is him snoozing whole laying on a pool float in the water, with some turtle shaped toys floating around him.

The scene switches over to Leo's model dressed in a royal blue yukata with scattered white rabbits, his bandana in an fancy bow with a 'hair ornament' that has the Hamato clan symbol hanging down, black tabi, and blue zori. His model is sitting in the same background of a traditional Japanese home with the shrine to Gram Gram, that Donnie used. River and Shelldon are seen sleeping in the shrine room.

Lots of cheering in the chat, and appreciation for the outfit.

"Hey guys! Sorry for not posting anything in 2 weeks. I think Dee already covered were we went, and some stories, but I can fill you guys in on things they may have not mentioned." Leo smiles, and grabs a tablet to read off some Notes, and questions.

"Okay first off, 'Why didn't we post anything on our Socials?'... do you take us for fools? We're very aware of the fact people would try to track us down based on what we post, I've heard of other content creators who heard from fans 'Hey based on that photo you just posted you're 15 minutes from me! LOL!' Really... Why?" Leo has a disappointed look as he says this. "It would be more weird with an UwU, or OwO, but hey some people are different."

"Second, 'Why didn't you mention a family emergency, or vacation?' We didn't want to accidentally mention where we were headed, but we also kinda forgot to post anything, and didn't think it counted as an emergency." Leo pauses and looks to the side while thinking over the 'drama' that happened, he says some quietly but it's still picked up by the mic, "Pretty sure some random Aunt throwing a fit over her son not wanting to follow a long dead tradition doesn't even count as a family emergency anyway."

Those is chat who heard and understood what he said are spamming for clarification.

"Third, 'Did you have any problems during your trip?' Well, yeah. Red is pretty big, and he had to duck down and squeeze through places alot when we went just about anywhere." Leo brings up a chibi cartoon of Raph deside a door much shorter and thinner than him, and Chibi Raph trying to squeeze through, "I don't know how much Dee went over, but Red was very sad he couldn't fit into some places, and couldn't go on alot of rides. We made up for it by going to some really awesome outdoor locations. We even found some local Wrestling league that were very excited to have Red join them for a couple short notice events."

Leo grabs his drink, and shifts his position. He takes a drink as he looks at the next question, chokes, and starts coughing.

For the next minute chat is asking what's wrong, is he okay, and asking if they should message one of the others.

Leo gets his breathing under control, takes a couple deep breaths, turns his head to the side, and "WHY DID YOU IMPLY I WAS ASKING FOR HIS HAND IN MARRIAGE!?!?!?!" He yelled at the audience could only assume is Dee.

Faintly you could hear "I didn't~ They just assumed~"

Leo still annoyed continued, "ugh, 'Did you ask your boyfriend's family if they will let you marry him?' No, we haven't been together, what we think, is a long enough time to get married. Plus my Samurai hasn't even asked Pops yet... I think." Leo's model now has a look of suspicion, and he thinks it over.

Chat is going nuts with Rabbit, Turtle, and Blue Heart emojis. And some ring emoji being snuck in, and hidden.

He shakes off the idea, reads over the next few questions or notes. " 'Who are the other turtles in the opening screen?' Those are two cousins of ours Cass and CJ, they live nearby and also have their own space here. Though CJ is currently planning to travel the country and further, so He isn't going to show up very much. They didn't really ask to be turtles, we just figured Cass is a common Snapper, and CJ is a Map, and Mandarin drew it up for us. 'And is the other Girl, April?' Yeah, she has changed up her personal style, but we draw her how she looked in years ago with some changes. She has some ideas for her full online persona. Her current picture is just a placeholder."

Leo scrolls through the list with little nope, no, too personal, and why did they bother? After a minute or so he just puts the tablet down with a sigh.

"Well, I don't want to go over any more questions, so let's start a poll on what we do next. Everyone ready here's your choices!!"

The stream continues with Leo playing a couple small games, and alot of small talk, and avoiding questions.

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

Masterpost

[imeanitplsmorenamifics]

HEELLOOOO!!! hope you're having a great day!!! 🌈

if it's not much of a problem, may i request Enchanted for Nami x fem!reader? It's my favourite song ever<3

HI! I'm having a great day! Thank you for asking and thank you for requesting! I would be more than happy to write this request for you! I love Nami more than anything 😭 I spent all night thinking of what to do for this so I hope you like it! Have some fluff after the angst that was the last Nami fic 👐. Flower Asks Hozier Asks Taylor Swift Asks Masterlist Rules Taglist Request Enchanted: You have a fated encounter with a good-looking stranger. She’s all you think about. What happens when you meet her again? Characters: Nami, Fem!Reader Pairing: Nami x Fem!Reader TW: Controlling parents. Other than that, I don't think there's anymore but let me know if there is!

Enchanted

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

Your life was boring. It was as simple as that. You were the daughter of people in high society. From a young age, you were forced to take classes on etiquette and politics, along with all the other dull subjects. When you weren’t taking classes, you were attending parties and being forced to interact with people you’ve never met. Almost all of them attempting to set you up with their son to try to gain some status. Like that would ever happen.

Tonight was like any other night. There was a party happening in your parents' big mansion. You were forced into a poofy dress with your makeup and hair done. Your parents had been throwing a lot of parties lately. They acted like it was for no apparent reason but to spend time with their friends. You knew exactly what it was. You overheard them talking about how they needed to find you a suitor. “All girls her age are engaged already so she should be too!” That was your father’s exact words.

You were entirely against the idea. As soon as the party started, your parents tried to introduce you to all the available men who showed up. They weren’t fast enough to catch you though. You were already tucked into a corner on a balcony where no one would be able to find you unless they stumbled upon you accidentally. You doubted that would happen. It rarely ever did when you hid away like this.

There was something about tonight that was different. Someone did stumble upon you. A girl with orange hair. You were almost as shocked as she was. The two of you just stood there staring at each other, waiting for the other to do something. Your eyes fell onto the bag that she was holding. It was full of something. If you had to guess, this woman was probably a thief.

Any other person would’ve shouted for one of the guards. They would’ve tried to stop the thief themselves. You were not any other person. This had to be the most interesting thing to happen to you in all your years of life. Your shocked expression turned into a grin, “Well, hello, miss thief.”

“Thief?” The girl questioned. She shot a look at the bag she was holding and hid it slightly behind her. She slapped a smile on her face and rubbed the back of her head with a sheepish expression, “Oh, no, I gave the wrong impression, didn’t I? This is just trash. I’m one of the janitors here.”

You hummed. You weren’t convinced. You prided yourself in knowing all the staff who worked for your parents. They were probably the realest people out of all the ones you’ve interacted with. People of the lower class usually were the most genuine. You crossed your arms, “Really now? I thought my parents weren’t hiring anyone else. After all, we have about 30 people on staff at the moment. I always said it was a bit overkill,” Those words seemed to catch the girl off guard. You found yourself laughing. The girl was confused. Why weren’t you shouting for someone to take her away? You waved off her concern, “Don’t worry, I’m not saying anything. This party is too dull. Giving you away would take away the only entertainment I’ve had all night,” Hearing this made the girl relax slightly. She was still on her guard. “My name’s Y/N. You?”

“Nami.”

“Nice name. It means wave,” You spouted out. Pretty girls did this to you. You had a tendency to say whatever was on your mind every time you saw one. The girl, Nami, raised an eyebrow at this. You shifted a little nervously, all that false confidence from before fading away. “I do a lot of reading,��� No response was given to you by Nami. The two of you fell into awkward silence once more. Neither girl could force themselves to leave the awkward conversation. There was something about the other that drew them in. You gathered together you thoughts and asked the first thing that came to mind, “So what is it like?” Nami shot a look at you, showing you she didn’t know what you meant. “Being a thief. It seems like it would be fun.”

There was no way Nami was having this conversation right now. This had to be the most strange conversation she's ever had. Still, she chose to indulge the girl, “It’s okay. I like money so that part’s nice.”

You hummed, nodding. After a moment, you found yourself saying, “I don’t like money. I have too much of it. I don’t need it. All the responsibility that comes with it is also a downside. If I had a choice,” You looked up at the night sky. Nami could’ve sworn that she saw stars in your eyes. They looked exactly like the stars that lit up the sky. “I would leave this place. I would travel the world. No one to tell me what to do. No one to tell me that I need to get married. All I would have is myself and the vast ocean below me.” A sincere smile appeared on your face. You’ve smiled more talking with Nami than you ever had at one of these parties.

Those words reminded Nami of herself. She too wished that she could leave behind all the responsibilities that she had. In her situation, it was basically impossible. She needed to buy back Coco Village, that was the most important thing. But this girl didn’t have any of that to worry about. Nami placed the bag of gold and riches on the ground. She walked over and joined the girl at the edge of the balcony, “Then do it.”

“What?”

“Leave this place,” Nami stated. There was a small grin on her face. “Travel the world. You don’t look like you enjoy staying here too much so just go.” It was a nice thought. Leaving behind this place, your controlling your parents, the parties, and the fake people. Being able to go wherever you wanted and do whatever you wanted. It was a dream.

You turned to the girl with a mischievous glint in your eye, “Then take me with you.”

That took Nami aback, “Wha-”

“You said it yourself,” You shot a glance back at the party. Through one of the many windows, you could catch your parents looking around the ballroom. You wouldn’t be too surprised if it was you that they were looking for. You turned your attention back to Nami, “I should leave here. You’re planning on leaving here too. So why don’t you just take me with you?”

“I can’t,” Nami was snapped back into reality after that demand. She went back to her bag of gold and riches and picked it up. She hauled it over her shoulder and gave the girl a stern look, “You can leave, that’s fine. But you can’t leave with me.” With those final words, Nami jumped off the balcony. You leaned forward in alarm. Instead of seeing a splat on the ground, you saw her land in a crouched position before she ran off into the night. You pursed your lips in disappointment as you watched her get farther and farther away.

After the encounter, all you could think about was her. You kept daydreaming about what it would’ve been like to leave with her. You could be free from all the stress you were under every day. You would have someone to talk to who wasn’t just being nice to you because they had to. Someone who was genuine with you. You keep hoping she will show up on the balcony again, telling you to come away with her. Every party after that one, you would wait for her to miraculously show up again. This didn’t happen but it was nice to dream. Well, it was nice to dream until it kept you up at night like this whole situation was.

It took a lot of courage, but you did eventually leave. You could imagine how livid your parents were when they found a note on your vanity telling them that you’d left. You headed out into town and went straight for the dock. You paid off a group of sailors to let them on board their ship and you were finally off. You would finally be able to travel the world like you wanted to.

During your travels, you find yourself thinking about Nami every once in a while. You were starting to think you were crushing on her. Maybe that’s why you wanted to leave with her so badly. Either way, you hoped that one day your paths would cross once again.

And they indeed did. You eventually got a boat of your own and taught yourself how to navigate, along with how to operate a boat. It was a little tricky and you ended up in the middle of nowhere a few times but you finally got the hang of it. You’re not sure how many months had passed since you last saw Nami. But it all seemed worth it when you ended up at a random town in the East Blue called Coco Village. You found yourself bumping into her again after what felt like forever.

The both of you were shocked to find the other standing in front of them. Your shocked expression quickly turned into one of ecstatic joy. Nami had changed since the last time you saw her. She didn’t seem so burdened anymore. She looked like a weight had been taken off her shoulders. Just like you were happy to see her, Nami looked happy as well.

There was one thing you kept repeating in your head as you stared at her, “Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” To your luck, she didn’t.

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

Taglist: @3v37773, @marevllousdaisy

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Nisha, did you know I would step on some legos barefooted for you? Anyways can’t wait to read for another fandom I have never stepped foot in and would probably never engage with the canon in just because you decided that’s what to make, and I’ve decided to read it anyways. Home cooked meal. -Rotten Anon

The opening line of this message made literal cartoon anime hearts appear above my head, just so you know <3

Also you have inspired me to post a rundown of my WIPs because I am really excited about what I have been working on. And for two of these fandoms, I know you have said you know nothing about the canon, but for the third, I am not sure, so we'll see.

My Current WIPs April/May 2024

Heaven's Gate (for The Walking Dead) - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Soulmates/Lovers Reunited. Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 1 to Season 5. 17k in counting (will be a oneshot). You can find a preview here. In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the Governor attacks the prison, and though you both believe the other person is dead (or long gone) you find each other at the most unlikely time, in the most unlikely place.

I am super excited about this fic, and the themes of hope that I have woven into it. Because yes, I unironically love writing about hope and how the human spirit can persevere - which is something that my favourite moments in The Walking Dead show. This is first draft complete and just needs to be edited.

The Jaws of Life (for DC Titans) - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. Sequel to Emergency Contact. Lovers Reunited. Extreme Angst, Smut, Hurt and (some) Comfort. Set during Season 3. 21k in counting (will probably be a oneshot - if it needs to be split up, it will be put in two parts, but I hope I can get away with a oneshot). (I highly recommend that everyone go read the original in the meantime, because it is one of my best fics ever.) In this fic, you and Jason struggle with the new meaning of your relationship after what happened with Deathstroke - only for this tentative change to be harshly disrupted by the Joker. And you're still heavily mourning when a red hooded stranger breaks into your apartment one night, seeking medical care because apparently - you owe him one.

Everyone give Jaycen @nctzenkane a big fucking round of applause for this one, because he was randomly talking to me about Jason Todd today (we were having the 'some characters are only fuckable in costume' discussion) - and I got talking about how this version of Jason from Titans makes me so passionate to write about the character. And it is solely because of him that I opened up this fic and took a good look at it - I have been thinking about this fic for months, wanting to finish it because I know I am gonna be proud of it, but I kept hesitating because I thought I had a way bigger mountain to conquer with it. But the conversation I had with Jaycen really inspired me and I wrote 5k on the fic just today, and I realized that with this momentum, I could have the first draft done by the end of this month. So I am promising myself that this is gonna be done soon.

Speaking of which - when The Jaws of Life is first draft done, I wanna host a poll so you guys can decide which of those two ^^ fics goes through the editing process to be posted first. Both will be posted (hopefully) by the end of May, but I do wanna know which one you guys wanna see posted first. Which leads me to:

Nasty (for Stranger Things) - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. 3k (this is gonna be a shorter fic lmao). In this fic, you and Eddie have been dating for a while, but you don't like that all of his attempts to have sex with you have him taking on a (seemingly fake) dom persona. When you finally tell him that you prefer to be more dominant in bed, he isn't disgusted like you thought he might be - he loves it.

This is one I have been sitting on for a while, and right before it was ready to be posted - my brain lost interest in it like tiktok does micro trends. But I think this is gonna be really great to post while the poll for those other fics is cooking because it's short and sweet and for the past few days, whenever I have seen the cover for this in my drafts, I have gotten excited about it again. So I am excited to finish it and show it off to everyone!!