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aureum-lepus · 8 months

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Severus Snape x fem! OC Araminta Tobbat

by aureum-lepus

Warnings: none

Word count: 2065

Note: Hello and welcome! This is the start of my Severus Snape x OC fanfic and I am so excited to share this! Please forgive me any mistakes regarding writing or spelling or anything. English is not my first language and have no beta reader (if anyone is interested to help or to talk about anything regarding writing, don't hesitate on messaging me!)

But long story short, please have fun reading and please give me your honest feedback 💖

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Dear Headmaster Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

I hope you are in the best of health. I am pleased to inform you that I am. Breeding rabbits this year is a bit...troublesome. My little darlings are afraid of all the dogs and snakes that have been hanging around the neighborhood lately.

I heard that the famous Harry Potter will be spending his third year at Hogwarts this year. That sounds very exciting. How is the boy doing? I can still remember my time at Hogwarts very well. How I wish I could roam through those magnificent halls again.

But let's get to the point of why I'm sending you an owl. My work at one of the local Muggle hospitals around here is going well, but it is not the true fulfillment. I'm sure you've already filled all the professors' positions with some exquisite people. The circumstances mentioned above do not allow me to spend my life here any longer and I would be very happy if I could come back to Hogwarts. Could you possibly have a vacancy for me in the Hospital Wing or do any of the professors need an assistant?

I am very pleased to hear from you, Professor Dumbledore.

With the very best and kindest regards,

Minty Delaney

The hand of the man holding the letter was bony and old. Older than it should be. Nevertheless, he read the letter with his lips curled and almost pulled into a smile. The paper on which the message was written looked worn and was slightly yellowish in color. It gave the impression that the owl that brought him these lines had flown an almost infinitely long distance.

Professor Albus Dumbledore rolled the old piece of paper back up into a scroll and tied it back with the ribbon with which the letter had previously been sealed. The old wizard adjusted his crescent-shaped spectacles and cleared his throat briefly. He then sat down on his wooden chair and rested his hands on the solid desk in front of him. "Please." he said in a very friendly and welcoming tone as he pointed to a chair in front of him. A witch of the still young age of twenty nine years slid into his view, her hands restrained in her lap. She took a seat on the creaky chair. Her posture was very tense and her eyes looked anxious.

"Lovley letter. I was very pleased to receive it." Dumbledore said as he tapped on the paper. "Even if I was a little surprised."

"Forgive me for this sudden outburst. The circumstances..." the woman began in a calm voice, but the headmaster interrupted her by placing his hand on his lips.

"You wanted a post in the hospital wing. You would fit in perfectly there, but I'm afraid Madame Pomfrey is already doing an excellent job there."

"I understand. But Professor, you didn't have to let me come here to tell me that. Why don't you write me this cancellation in a letter?"

"I didn't say I didn't have a position for you. Hogwarts has always kept its doors open to those who have sought help and asked for it." the old man smiled. "In your letter, you mentioned that you would also work as an assistant to the professors?"

The woman with gray hair, which she wore in a loose braid, nodded. Her eyes had a pink, almost red glow and as it slowly dawned on her what Dumbledore wanted to tell her, they lit up with joy. The old wizard stood up and walked over to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "You will be working as a nurse in the hospital wing with Madame Pomfrey. I have a feeling that we will need someone like you at times like this. However, you will also help the professors with smaller tasks if they need it."

The young witch placed her hand gratefully on the headmaster's. A faint smile crossed her lips and a feeling of security and warmth rose up inside her, something she hadn't felt for a long time. "Thank you, Professor," she almost whispered.

"Use your time with the professors wisely, Minty. Someday I'll hire you as a professor for transfiguration."

Minty Delaney giggled. "You don't really think I'm competition for Professor McGonagall, do you?"

Dumbledore patted her shoulder and took a step back. "Not at all, you are both important and valuable to Hogwarts in your own way." The old man placed his hands on his lower back and his gaze swiveled around the room. He suddenly seemed a little distant and absent. "You must be tired, Minty. I've already had your luggage taken away. You'll find your bedchamber near the Ravenclaw common room. I thought a little proximity to your old house couldn't hurt. I'll introduce you to the professors tomorrow. Luckily, we still have some time before the new school year starts."

Minty stood up hastily. She didn't want to waste any more of Dumbledore's time, as he obviously had other plans for tonight. She tilted her head forwards slightly. "Thank you very much, Professor."

She hurriedly made her way to the spiral staircase that led out of the Headmaster's office. A large eagle guarded the entrance and as soon as she got closer to the statue, it opened the exit. Her foot was just taking the first steps into the long corridor in front of her when she banged her nose against something black. She pulled her hands up quickly when she felt the impact. She felt a rough material under her hands. It seemed to be a mage's robe. 'The object' was not an object, but a man's chest rising and falling as he breathed in a little annoyed.

Unsure, Minty moved her head upwards so that her chin was now digging into the ribbed, thin chest. Her eyes became a little watery. 'What an awkward and embarrassing situation...' she thought.

Her eyes met a very tense, pale face. Dark, tired eyes looked down at her. The man was several heads taller than the small woman. Minty could barely get a whimper out of her throat. The man with black, somewhat stringy hair raised his equally black eyebrow. His already cold face didn't move an inch.

Minty was paralyzed with fear and panic. 'Move...' She felt her jaw tighten and her body tremble. Every muscle was tense. It felt almost impossible to break away from the man, who was probably one of the professors. Minty's eyes ran over the features of his face. Over the dark eyes, to the slightly gaunt cheeks, back to his thinly curled lips and finally to the large, crooked nose in the centre of his face.

She wanted to say something, whisper some kind of apology for her clumsy behavior, but no matter how hard she tried to calm herself, the spasmodic panic spread through her stomach. She opened her mouth, took a deep breath, and the man grabbed her by the wrist.

"And you are..?" the man cut her off before one single word cut escape her throat. His voice was cold and there was a hint of bitterness in it.

"I'm sorry..." Minty stuttered. She feared that the man was about to break her arm.

The wizard quickly pushed Minty against the wall next to them and moved a little further away. He still had a firm grip on her wrist, while he had drawn his wand with the other and was now holding it to her chin. "Your name."

A whimper was all the witch uttered when she touched the cold wall. She squinted her eyes now. What a terrible confrontation. Minty's knees went weak and she took a deep breath. She felt dizzy. "A-a-ara..." she began softly and weakly as a familiar voice beside her interrupted her.

"Severus." Dumbledore's voice cut through her whimpering.

The dark eyes of the man, who was probably called Severus, left Minty and focussed on the headmaster. When he saw Dumbledore put on a friendly smile, Severus knew that there was no danger from this woman and let her go.

"There was no time to mention that I was expecting a guest. Why don't you go to my office, Severus?"

The professor nodded, but gave Minty one last, suspicious look before he went upstairs to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was now standing in front of Minty again, placing a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Minty..." His voice seemed a little stern.

The young witch swallowed a heavy lump. She was painfully aware of the mistake she had almost made. She had almost told the professor her real name. "I...I'm sorry." Minty stroked her still watery eyes with her index finger.

"No one should know. Do you understand that? You've kept it a secret for years, don't get careless now."

A nod. "I know, Professor."

Albus Dumbledore straightened up. "Now really go to sleep. Dark times are ahead of us. Use every minute you have to yourself." With these words, he left her alone and returned to his office.

Minty wasted no more time either and set off in the direction of the Ravenclaw tower. The way there was uneventful. Strangely enough, she knew exactly where to go without Dumbledore telling her which room was hers.

She was just sure that the path was right and just before she arrived at the tower, she saw a room. A room with a marking. Minty was overcome with such incredible happiness. She felt safe and secure, despite the strange confrontation with Severus. She had felt at home after many years. She quickly opened the door and stepped into the room. Her eyes lit up with joy, knowing full well that Dumbledore had this room set up for her.

It wasn't a large room, but it was very cosy. Right on the other side was a wide window, through which the moonlight was currently shining. There was a large bed in the corner of the room below it. The bed linen was in pastel colours and, like everything else in the room, radiated a certain warmth and familiarity. The wall beside the bed was decorated with a number of dried flowers which where sorted around a mirror. To Minty's left were a pair of bookshelves filled with books on transformations, magical animals and potions. In the centre was a large white and very fluffy carpet. Minty's luggage was also there. A few candles were skilfully placed around the room to provide light.

Minty pulled the scrunchie out of her hair and a broad grin lit up her face. She quickly closed the door behind her and stepped fully into her room. She turned around a few times, taking in every little detail that was hidden here. She finally plopped down on the bed and looked at the door again. The symbol she saw outside was also on the inside of the door. It was a rabbit, its ears hanging limply downwards. That was Minty's symbol. The rabbit with floppy ears. The animal she could transform herself into.

She sighed with relief, stretched out her arms and let herself fall backwards. She bumped her wrist against the mattress a little too hard. A sharp pain shot through her and she hissed from the pain. A soft mattress shouldn't actually hurt. Minty looked at her wrist and saw a small bruise.

She immediately thought of the professor she had met earlier. She began to gently massage her wrist. There was something about this man's appearance that aroused her curiosity and interest. Still, he frightened her. Those dark eyes and that black hair...And then that nose...

He had been very slim, yet he was strong.

Minty closed her eyes.

She visualised him a little more in her mind's eye. She now also remembered the man's scent. Old books, like a library. Candles that had just been blown out. There was more, but she couldn't remember it. As if the room had been tailored to her exact needs, all the candles went out at once.

Minty Delaney's consciousness slowly slipped into a deep sleep. Her thoughts of the strange professor accompanied her into her dream world. There were some exciting days, weeks or even years ahead for her at Hogwarts.

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jeritten · 2 years

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DR:THH Byakuya Togami x Male!Reader: Chapter Two.

[Previous Chapter: 1]

heloo!! :P sooo its rlly late where i am,, so i'll have to do my final proofread of this in the morning,, but it should [in theory] be good to go now!! been feeling shitty again,, but byakuya = best comfort chara so story begins under the cut!! - Jeri <33

A small cry of shock escapes your lips. Upon stepping through the doorway, all eyes in the room turn to you, and as you scan the disorderly crowd, you fail to recognise any familiar faces.

You force your body to get ahold of itself, hastily clearing your throat as you muster the most positive smile that you can given the circumstances.

“... Are all of you new here?” You begin somewhat sheepishly, allowing yourself to get straight to the point as you address the room. “I could use a little help figuring out what’s going on…”

A tall girl sporting long, silvery hair takes a small step towards you at your words, and now that all of the students are focused on you the click of her heel on the dense concrete rings out around the room.

“We all could, honestly.” She looks to you with a carefully composed expression that seems to conceal her true thoughts. As she prepares to speak again, she tucks her hair behind her ear with a gloved hand.

“It appears that we all blacked out upon entering Hope’s Peak Academy and regained consciousness to find ourselves seated at school desks. Can you corroborate this..?”

You can’t help but feel a little relieved at her words. Although it adds a slightly sinister element to the situation, it’s comforting to know that you’re not the only one who feels that there’s something fundamentally off about this ‘first day’.

“Yes.” You speak firmly and politely, withdrawing your hands from your pockets with care. “Yes, that’s precisely what happened to me. I also seem to have lost my belongings- I had a bag on my person that appears to have been taken.”

She raises a steady finger to her chin, eyebrows furrowing as she processes your words.

“Curious..” She mutters in response, her indifferent gaze drifting down to the concrete floor as she ponders.

No sooner had she taken her attention away from you than you found yourself clumsily introducing yourself to the room.

“Oh- hi..!” You start, pulling at the neck of your sweater out of habit. “My name’s (Y/N) (L/N).”

You make quick work of introducing yourself to everyone. The girl with the ashen hair is Kyoko, then Ishimaru, Sayaka, Celestia, Yasuhiro, Aoi- who’d insisted that you call her ‘Hina’, Junko, Mondo, Chihiro, Sakura, Leon, Hifumi…

“... Toko?” You question the timid girl in front of you, awestruck. “Toko Fukawa..?”

The purple hair, the wire-rimmed glasses- yes, you’re certain this is her!

The girl glances back at you, clearly a bit perplexed.

“... Yes,” She begins, eyeing you up in a way that you can’t quite read, “I just told you that, didn’t I..?

You quickly catch yourself, adjusting your shirt collar and clearing your throat.

“Yes, yes of course.” You say with a smile, your eyes closed. “Sorry, it’s just that I’m a massive fan of your works! My personal number one is probably ‘So Lingers the Ocean’- although now that I think about it, I’m not sure if I can really choose just one favourite.”

She looks to you abashedly over her glasses, fiddling with her fingers as if uncertain about what to make of your words. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, anxious about potentially making a bad impression on someone you admire.

"Oh, I'm sorry," You blurt out without even thinking. You try to explain yourself, hoping you don't sound too clumsy. "I know it's a little strange considering that your books are targeted towards women, but I really can't resist a well-written romance novel."

You hold out your hand for her to shake, sending her your most amiable smile when she takes it in hers.

“Nevertheless, it’s great to meet you in person!” You say with a grin, feeling thankful that you decided to turn up to this weird school after all.

You offer her a small wave and a ‘see you around!’ before turning your attention to the only person in the room you hadn’t spoken to yet: a tall, reserved blonde hiding himself away in the corner. As you make your way over, you’re sure to flash him a friendly smile.

“Hey,” You start, fixing the fit of your sweater, “my name’s (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you.”

He frowns down at you, eyebrows suddenly pushed down and knitted together in an expression that causes your own smile to diminish.

“The name’s Byakuya Togami.” he snarls, and you can’t help but adopt a small frown of your own. You wait a little while for the conversation to continue, looking up at him expectantly but eventually finding yourself cracking under his harsh stare.

When you come to the realisation that he has no further intent of talking to you, you resolve not to let him leave without having a proper back-and-forth conversation with you. You hum, taking a small moment to look him up and down and study his appearance.

“Do you like literature..?” you question, watching as his attention is brought back to you.

His sophisticated outfit- the tie, the shirt, the jacket, dress pants- made it safe for you to assume that this boy had probably read a few books in his lifetime, You’d guess if not for pleasure then to improve his rep. As a bonus, it’s something that you obviously have no trouble talking about, so it’s the perfect topic of conversation.

You look back to the stranger’s face, noticing that, if for only a second, his intense expression relaxes just a little bit.

“... What did you say your title was again?” He inquires- not an answer to your question, but an answer enough to make you crack a small smile

“Oh, I’ve been labelled as the ‘Super Highschool-Level Bookworm’- which would not be my first choice of word, but what can you do?”

You decide that you’ll take the lead in this conversation, seeing as the closed-off male makes no further attempts to speak.

“So,” You start, taking in a deep breath and clasping your hands behind your back, “Togami, what’s yours?”

He pushes his white half-rim glasses further up his nose with a slender index finger, crossing his arms across his chest as he turns his head away from you.

“Super Highschool-Level Heir.” He replies bluntly, annoyance laced thickly in his voice. “Although, in my personal opinion, I too feel that it might be a convoluted insult towards my status...”

He barely mutters the last part, with his- although somewhat half-baked- attempt at making coherent conversation with you subtly improving your mood nonetheless.

As you’re about to respond to his answer, you’re curtly cut off by the girl that you now know as Kirigiri, a gloved hand pressed lightly to her lower lip in thought. Sharply, she calls for the haphazard group’s collective attention.

cool!! :DD

this'll go live on ao3 too after i post it here,, so be sure to check that out if you're interested!!

for now,, i'm headed to bed :']

goodnight!!

-Mod Jericho :D

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noblest-roman-of-them-all · 1 year

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Over the last few years I have been writing birthday and thank you letters to each of the Sides on their "birthday"/appreciation days in lieu of fanart, so it seems fitting to continue that tradition today and wish a very happy birthday to Thomas himself. Both the character and creator of Sanders Sides. And to say thank you.

It's hard to put into words just how much this series has meant to me, especially in the last three years or so. It's helped me to find the courage to be passionate about writing again, to be comfortable in my body and make choices in fashion that make me happy, to feel safe exploring my sense of self. It's had a really huge positive impact on my life.

I remember going to see Welcome to Night Vale live for the first time and on the way up my friend handed me their phone and said "Look up Sanders Sides. I need you to watch it and tell me what you think."

And I will be honest, my initial thought was "This is a little cheesey", but in retrospect I think that was just a little bit of a defensive wall coming up. As I watched the series by binging that weekend, I felt a little more seen than I had before and I didn't know exactly how to phrase it other than, "That's kinda how my brain works too.".

And that is a big part of why I kept coming back to it. Because I felt seen. Then last year I was diagnosed with OSDD (otherwise specified dissociative disorder) and a few things clicked into place in my brain. I understood the why of it. I understand that this series isn't meant to be about DID and I'm not saying it should be, but for me personally, as someone with a dissociative disorder and part of a system, it was refreshing to see something mirror close to my experiences. It was huge to me. I felt less ashamed or embarrassed, less strange or weird for the way my brain worked. I finally had something to point to and say, "that's like me!". And I really think that that helped me accept my diagnosis. There are several alters in my system that have been helped by this series as well, that have felt seen and represented in the struggles they hold for our system. For some of them, it's helped thrm find their own sense of self. It's helped us heal. And I'm really grateful for that.

And it's not just this series. I remember watching the 33 lessons from 33 years livestream. And I don't know which number it was, but talking about putting on a mask and it being hard to feel like a real person. I had only been aware of my system for what it truly was about four months at that time. And having a sense of self was...shaky at best for me, but there was a sense of solidarity that came from that. It was comforting to know I wasn't the only one who experienced those kinds of feelings. It helped me to feel more like a person to hear someone else say that they also struggle with that concept.

Even things that could be considered as small as the tweets you share. For me, seeing someone else so openly share their experiences with things like body image issues, or like skin and scalp issues. It reminds me that I am allowed to acknowledge that I struggle with those things. Upon first glance I don't look like someone who would so I try to pretend I don't, and I end up feeling worse for it. But seeing your example of being open, it helps me to remember that those are just normal things that people deal with, and I don't have to feel ashamed for being one of them.

Don't even get me started on the Trying too Hard music video... The thing about OSDD/DID, it's caused by trauma in earlier childhood. And at that time I was really struggling hard with coming to terms with that. I was trying to be strong about it, learning to cope with the the plot I'd been given. And that song gave me so much hope. My brain, my system, it didn't choose to be divided. That's just what happened because of our circumstances, it was decided for us in a lot of ways. But we are strong and we are tough and we're learning to fit this plot that we've got. And we're learning to see each other and ourselves for who we are. It took me so long and so many loops of that song to be able to name that big explosive feeling in my chest. But it really helped me to feel so hopeful about our future together as a system.

There are a lot silly things I've taken from this series. To this day when things just aren't working out I still throw up my hands and say, "there's no winning at Christmas!" and it makes me smile and helps release some frustration, every time I hear "cognitive distortion" I echo "Häagen-Dazs dispersion". Every time. Even in therapy. It's an issue. But it makes me smile. Also without fail, I get called out when Taurus jokes are made. I have never put any stock in Zodiac related things before, but now I'm half wondering if there's something to it because without fail, I get called out. There are lots of little joys that this series has brought me. But there are also some incredible lessons that I've learned. And I will forever be grateful for that.

So thank you, so very much, Thomas. And happy birthday.

@thatsthat24

#thank you and birthday letters

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s-awturn · 2 months

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Us, again || CS55

summary: Abandoned in a strange country, with no money, friends or family and a positive pregnancy test, Y/N finds herself on the brink of unprecedented chaos. There is no one she can count on, except her ex best friend, who she didn't want to have to turn to.

cw: conflict, abandonment, crying crisis and mention of an anxiety attack. Old conflict, nostalgia, separation, problem solving, relationship to be established, ex-friends to lovers. Extreme cuteness

a/n: I wanted to start something like this, and Carlos and Toto are always my favorites for angst and this plot arose especially for the grid's smooth operator. And I articulated the details of the story while reading "my tears ricochet" by @spngi and it's no secret to anyone that I'm a drama girl, so be aware that this is going to be a lot of drama, something cute and sweet, we'll see how it turns out.

a/n¹: notes: oh my god, this took so long to finish, I almost gave up when Tumblr lost everything I had ever written (I almost cried) after four attempts, three days, I finally finished it, anyway, I hope you like it, yay!

Freely inspired by Taylor Swift's "cardigan".

“I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs / The smell of smoke would hang around this long / 'Cause I knew everything when I was young / I knew I'd curse you for the longest time”

"This isn't happening, Y/N, Don't fucking fuck with me! This isn't happening!" I hear Aaron's raised voice as he walks through the hotel room, in my hands, an urgent ultrasound and a pregnancy test with a static "positive" on the test screen. "I can't be a father now!"

"I also didn't choose to be a mother now, Aaron, much less did I make this child alone!" I respond, equally upset and stand in front of him, I would never let him, or any man in the world, get above me.

"So it's decided, we will have the abortion" he says as if it were simple, and my mind spins in a huge spiral, I don't know if abortion is an option for me, much less in a strange country and in circumstances like this. "Ireland guarantees the right to abortion, we can do it today, hopefully!"

Aaron holds my arms tightly and shakes me lightly, trying to convince me. I move away from him as if I had been shocked and stop in the other corner of the suite, looking at him as if he were a stranger.

"I'm not going to have an abortion, much less in a foreign country! I cannot and will not decide this overnight, Aaron!" I speak and I see him become more exasperated and veins grow on his forehead, a sign of stress.

"You've got to be fucking kidding," he complains, and I don't like the glazed look he's giving me. "You can't decide? Y/N, fuck, we have plans, we start our trip now and you can’t decide?”

"No, we're talking about my body! Whether I carry this pregnancy forward or not, is my decision!" My voice echoes in the room and Aaron sighs, I feel a bad shiver running up my spine when I see my boyfriend's green eyes go dark.

"You're right, it's your decision, it's your body..." He rests his hands on his hips, breathing deeply "let's sleep, we'll go back to London and talk better"

I nod and change into comfortable pajamas. The test and ultrasound are forgotten on the table. All around us, the strange tension and feeling of something wrong only allow me to sleep much later than I would like. Aaron falls asleep as soon as he hits the pillow.

-- ♡ --

I wake up as the sun escapes the translucent curtains, my body hurts like I've been hit by a truck. I barely open my eyes and my intuition kicks in and I sit up so quickly that my muscles groan with pain, there is no sign of Aaron, his bags are not in their place, I jump out of bed and open the safe, I only find my passport, torn up, in fact. No sign of my cards or the money we brought for the trip.

Tears burn my eyes as the truth crashes down on my head.

Aaron abandoned me in Ireland, alone, without money and with my documents torn up, he destroyed me. I start to hyperventilate, there's no one I can ask for help, no one to rescue me, I'm alone in a country I don't even know. My boyfriend left me, alone, pregnant, without money or any fucking support.

"Son of a bitch!" I scream and collapse on the floor, crying without stopping, I should have followed my instincts, but I trusted that he would never do something like that to me, I trusted his feelings. I was such a idiot! It takes me a few minutes to recover, taking deep breaths with my left hand on my flat stomach.

"I'll find a way to get us out of this, baby, I promise" my voice shakes and I try to stop crying. "Your stupid mom will find a way, we'll be fine soon"

After forty minutes between "I'll fix this" and "Oh my God, I'm fucked", I call the hotel reception, and I have the excellent news that my stay is guaranteed for another eight days, a Since Aaron — my stupid fucking ex — we paid before we left. At least I have a guaranteed roof over my head for a week, with food and clean clothes, I wouldn't be completely homeless.

My parents passed away years ago, my friends walked away from me when I started dating Aaron, which means I'm fucking alone.

A new bout of crying chokes my throat and I'm tired of being strong, I can't believe that stupid man left me and stole my money. I feel so, so destroyed. I face the test and the ultrasound, I wanted my mother to be here, I wanted her to comfort me and tell me everything would be okay.

Five days later.

"Wow, really? One hundred and fifty euros for a new passport? I don't have that money!" my hope dies as soon as I understand how bad my situation is. "I have the police report, isn't that worth anything?"

"I can check with my superiors, but it will take at least two weeks, Miss L/N"

"Two weeks? I can't afford to stay here for two weeks, I have no money!" My voice shakes and I suppress the urge to cry.

"It's the best I can do, Miss"

"Well, thank you then..." I thank you grudgingly and hang up. It's been five days since Aaron left, in the meantime, I've sunk into so much self-pity that I'm sharing the rent with Samara. I've swallowed my pride the last few days and called some old friends, but all the calls went to voicemail, and that doesn't surprise me.

What did I expect? That they would welcome me with open arms after I turned my back on everyone? How I was deceived;

My reservation will expire in three days, and then I will literally be in the gutter of Dublin, with no chance of returning to London, all the disappointment turns my stomach and brings on the disgusting feeling of sickness, I only have time to run to the bathroom and vomit my breakfast into the toilet. I don't know if it's a symptom of pregnancy or if it's a consequence of the horrible situation I'm in. I brush my teeth and go back to the room, going straight to the suite's balcony and facing the view of the city, I hope Dublin's landscape makes me forget how bad everything is around me. Sitting on the lounge chair, looking at the azaleas on the balcony wall, she absently ran her fingers over her belly; If you asked me a few days ago if I wanted to be pregnant, my answer would have been a giant "no", but now, I feel anxious about the little things.

Looking forward to buying the baby's clothes, choosing the color of the room or making a list of names, nothing will be easy, I know, but I will make it work, even with all the difficulties and problems, I will strive to be a good mother, and a father too if necessary.

"You didn't come at a good time, little one, but I promise I'll do everything I can for you" I murmur, trying to be confident and find some way out. There are no more tears to cry, there's no more pain to suffer so I'm not going to waste any more energy on it, fuck Aaron, I'm capable of taking care of everything, I just need some time, but I'll make it. I remain on the balcony until the end of the afternoon, when the hotel reception calls me, letting me know that dinner is already served, the mention of food makes me salivate with hunger, in the same way that it shakes my stomach in previous waves of nausea. "I need energy to sort things out for us, little one, so you can let mommy keep the food down today, huh?”

I talk to my stomach as I look for my cell phone in the mess on the bed, ignoring the pieces of my passport, otherwise I would have a tantrum and be able to get to England by swimming. I greet some guests, who ask me how I am and if the baby is already giving me trouble, and they also ask me if I managed to solve the passport problem. These same guests found out about this when they found me in tears at the reception, sympathizing with the situation I was in.

"We're fine, he's already deciding what he likes to eat, and avocado toast isn't on the list" I say laughing as we go downstairs. The restaurant is not that crowded, most guests prefer to dine in local restaurants and pubs, so most of the seats were vacant, the process of serving my food and choosing the table furthest from the air conditioning takes less than ten minutes. The food on my plate is almost gone when I'm drawn to the call of an Irish sports program, they were going to rebroadcast the Monaco GP qualifying, with comments from the commentators. I don't even notice the time passing, I end up staying there in the restaurant as the guests leave and say goodbye to me, and my heart starts racing like a rocket when the camera focuses on Carlos Sainz.

"I haven't heard anything from him since... Oh, it's been so long..." I murmur, resting my chin in my hands, hoping he can get a good position. Even though I haven't been to the races for some time, I still know how things work and I also know that Monaco is a difficult circuit. I can't help but be thrilled when he gets P2, it was quite an achievement! This leads me to wonder if he still keeps the same phone number.

Can Carlos help me... I know I'm being selfish, but I have no one else to turn to, and I'm about to despair. We were friends until one of his girlfriends decided that there was no more room in Carlos' life for me, until she decided that I could no longer come between them, not that I would, I always wanted my best friend to be happy, with whoever he was, and what hurt the most was Carlos agreeing with her and cutting me out of his life. Carlos was my best friend.

"It doesn't hurt to try, I already have the 'no'" I murmur, sliding my finger across my cell phone while I look for his phone. With my heart racing, I press "call" and wait and at the height of my anxiety, I count the seconds until he answers. Thirty seconds until I hear Carlos' familiar voice.

"Hello?" He says and I can't hold back my tears, like an emotional idiot.

"Carlos?"

"Y/N? Is that really you?" He looks as surprised as I am.

"Well yes, it's me" I give a choked laugh, the tears are blocking my nose, soon I'll be exhausted. "I know we're not friends anymore, Carlos, but I need your help... I don't would bother you if it wasn't necessary"

I hear the sound of a door closing and a strong accent complaining in what I think is French.

"You would never bother me, how can I help you, cielo?"

And then I talk, I say everything that's happening, my sobs make me cry in some parts, the hormones are already in an uproar, apparently. Carlos listens to me without interrupting once, and if I know him well, I know he's messing up his hair and frowning like he always does when he's concentrating.

"I wouldn't be calling if I weren't desperate, Carlos..."

"Calm down, calm down, you did well in the place, cielo, I won't be able to go, of course, but you'll be home soon, I promise" he says, there are no signs of hesitation in his voice and It comforts me in a way I can never explain. I hear the sound of drawers opening and a sheet of paper being torn apart "give me the address of the hotel, I won't be able to go, because of the rush, but I will send my advisor to take care of everything, don't worry, bien?"

"Thank you, thank you so much! I can't even tell you how grateful I am" I speak emotionally and give the hotel address next to the phone, in case I don't answer.

"There's no need to thank me, cielo, I would never leave you helpless, never" he assures me and I feel eighteen again, sitting on the sidewalk outside my house with him, the two of us eating ice cream and talking about his season. Oh God, I missed him so much.

"Congratulations on P2, you were great" I say sincerely, Carlos is a great driver and I know how much he works every day, I don't need to be with him to know, he is very obstinate.

"Oh, did you watch it? Thanks, Y/N"

We stay silent on the line, sharing our breaths until I break.

"I don't have enough words to thank you, Carlos, but thank you, you saved me" I say, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. "I need to sleep now... Good luck in the race tomorrow, I'll be rooting for you"

"Thank you cielo, have a good night" he says and we remain on the call until I hang up. Carlos and I have always shared silence, staying silent has never been a problem between us. When I lock myself in my room, all the weight of that day falls on me like a stone, I take a hot shower and lie down, tormented by memories.

"You don't call me anymore, so I came to see you, your mother told me you were here" I say, entering his room, something we always did, Carlos and I always went to each other's houses.

"Well, I didn't return your call for a reason" he said and I saw Isabella, his current girlfriend come out of the bathroom, wearing one of his shirts. "We'll talk later, Y/N"

“You never call me Y/N, what’s wrong, cielo?”

"We can't be friends anymore" He says it without pity, harshly and even cruelly.

"Huh? Why? Because of Isabella?"

"Isabella has nothing to do with this" he says quickly, standing in front of his girlfriend, Isabella puts on shorts and says she will give us privacy, I don't even look at her face, keeping his eyes on Carlos. "your feelings do!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Carlos?! My feelings? Are you crazy?

"I heard your conversation with Blanca" he confesses and I feel my heart stop, he shouldn't have... "Don't make me say, Y/N, So spare us the humiliation of having to break your heart over feelings that should never exist, because you know, we would never have anything."

I could call him names, fight him, or do anything else, but I just nodded and took off the friendship bracelet we had made last summer. A stupid symbol of our bond, which no longer exists.

"I think you're right, I hope you're immensely happy, cielo and that you can achieve everything you dream of" I leave the bracelet on his desk before leaving the room. I say goodbye to Mrs. Sainz and Blanca, Carlos' sister apologizes, she didn't know he was listening. "It's my fault, there's no need to apologize"

I said goodbye to them, aware that it would be the last time we would see each other like that, I had been accepted at a university in England and with the death of my parents, nothing kept me in Spain anymore. Except only for Carlos.

But not anymore, that was the last time I spoke to Carlos.

My heart jumps when I wake up, I feel my face wet and I confirm that just like in the memories, I cried. I really had feelings for Carlos, but I was willing to ignore them if it meant having my best friend with me, I didn't care if he was dating or anything, I just needed him, I didn't have anyone else, feelings that shouldn't have even arisen. I didn't want to ask him for help, but I knew I would never have the courage to ask Blanca, Reyes or Mr. Carlos, so I had to swallow my pride and call him.

I'm still looking at the hotel ceiling, thinking about the floodgate that Carlos opened in me, with just one phone call. I thought I was over it, that the hurt and resentment were gone. As for the mistake, I was as hurt and resentful as years ago, it still hurt as if it had been done yesterday. My daydreams are interrupted by a call from an unknown number, I answer and make the mistake of answering while yawning.

"I'm sorry, please, I just woke up" I ask before hearing the person, who laughs, I would recognize that laugh anywhere, even in a crowd. "Carlos"

"Sorry for waking you up, cielo" he says and I feel my skin itch, the nickname takes me back to good days, where everything was sweet and full of dreams.

"Relax, I literally just woke up. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes everything is fine, I just called to let you know that there will be a car to pick you up at one o'clock in the afternoon, you will be taken to a private flying field straight to London" he says, I hear the buzz of the pitlane in the background, lots of shouting in Italian and the uproar of the crowd. The race would start soon. "Is everything okay with you, cielo? Can you get it ready in time?"

"Yes, definitely yes, I didn't want to bother you, Carlos, especially before a race."

"Ah" he clicked his tongue, dismissing my apology "it's no big deal, I promised I would take you home and I will, there will be a car at the private airport to take you home, just give your address to the driver, and don't worry about paying anything, you only need to worry about eating and resting during the trip, as for your passport, I scheduled a time for you to get a new copy of your document, in three days, you will receive a memo on your cell phone."

My throat constricted, well here I am feeling like crying again, these hormones are still going to make me dehydrated from crying, or my tears would dry up at some point.

"You're being a guardian angel for me, Carlos, I'll never thank you enough" I murmur hoarsely, swallowing the tears.

"Oh no, no please, don't cry, you know I never know how to deal with your tears" he says and I know he's despairing, which makes me laugh and sniffle, in a strange way that I know I've never done before "I'm not doing anything much, if with all this money, I can't do something simple like take you home, what is all this for?"

"I know, thank you very, very much... I'll pack my bags and have coffee, you'll do well in this race, I know that" I say quickly and hang up before it gets awkward, or rather, weirder.

The following hours are a mess, checking in at the hotel, the journey to the runway and much of the flight are done with my mind on standby, I could only think about how betrayed I felt by Aaron's attitude, how I needed to swallow my pride and ask for help from someone I swore I wouldn't see again. The Earth turned several times until it threw me into Carlos Sainz's life once again. I sink into the armchair looking at the fluffy clouds through the window.

"I said I would find a way, little one, and we're going home now. Maybe you'll question my methods in the future, but not my results" I laugh at my own joke and I let my hands rest on my belly, I suddenly feel anxious to see it bigger, Being a mother was not a goal for the next five years, I'm not at all prepared for motherhood, but I don't know how to describe the panic that gripped my heart when Aaron suggested the interruption. I have a stable job, which allows me to work from home and a flexible schedule, I have a small apartment, but with an extra room for the baby and well, I decided to move on. I already feel very connected to the baby, and there is a break in the loneliness that I have felt for years, it is good not to feel alone.

My cell phone rings the moment I turn the key in the lock, Carlos' name flashes on the display and I answer it while trying to push my bags inside.

"The driver just told you he dropped you off at home, did everything go well? Were the flight attendants kind to you?"

"Yes, yes, everything was fine, Carlos, the flight attendants are really cute, I was treated very well, you can put your weapons away" I breathe a sigh of relief as I sit down on my sofa, finally away from all that hell I went through in Dublin.

"That's good, cielo, I've been worried about you all day"

I don't know what to answer, I don't know what Carlos expects from me after all these years, after so much distance.

"I'm glad you're home and well, cielo, I'll let you rest now"

Another time, we are silent on the call until I ask "did you win?"

“It was Charles' home race, my job was to make sure he won, but I got second place” he says, there's a certain 'job done' tone in his voice. "I'm happy with today's result"

"That's good, I'm happy for you, and for your teammate" I say sincerely.

"Thank you, that matters a lot... Anyway, rest okay? You can't sleep late anymore, take care cielo, call me for whatever you need, anything, don't hesitate" he says with such firmness that It almost makes me uncomfortable, so we hang up. I don't know if Carlos is back in my life and I don't know if I'm okay with that. It's so confusing, but I don't need to deal with it right now, I have more important things to take care of.

Almost two weeks later, I got a new passport, applied for new cards and was being monitored by an obstetrician. Luckily I didn't run into Aaron a single day, I changed the locks, I threw his things in the trash and made my transition from a committed woman to a single woman smoothly.

"What do I need to buy at the market?" I mutter as I check cupboards and fridge, licorice dangling from my lips. "milk, eggs, sugar, tomatoes and pasta... Cheese and bacon, for sure" Maybe I'll make a carbonara when I get home from the store. I had been in the middle of an Italian food fixation for days, all I wanted was pasta, tomatoes and cheese. Just when I finish making the market list, my campaign rings and I have a heart attack when I see no one other than Carlos Sainz — and all his other surnames — standing at my door.

"Carlos? What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, to be honest I don't know, but after you called me, I couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again" He says it so fast I think he's going to choke and I pull him into the apartment before the neighbors see him and decide to hold a carnival on my doorstep. He wastes a few seconds looking around, for an instant I saw my best friend there, the guy who knew everything about my life and who today, knew nothing about me anymore, big breakthrough.

"I'm sorry if you think that explains anything," I reply, looking at how lost he looks. "but again, what do you want here, Carlos?"

"I want to apologize, I was a shitty friend to you, I was cruel, I belittled your feelings, you are the most amazing and resilient person I know" he says, taking a step towards me, I don't back away, but I make it clear that he is not welcome in my personal space. "Life without you has been bad, very bad and I only realized that when I saw you, weeks ago."

"Walking away was the best thing we did, Carlos. God knows how we would have ended up if you hadn't put an end to it."

"No, it shouldn't have, it wasn't the right thing! We were left without our best friends because we didn't know how to deal with things, I didn't know"

"Carlos, you can't be best friends with the guy you're in love with, at some point I would hate you and that would be worse"

"and you didn't hate it?"

I keep quiet, because yes, I hated him for a long time, I still think I do and I don't even know why I'm trying to defend him. It must be the hormones talking.

"Yeah, yes I hated you for a long time, maybe I still hate you, but you were my best friend, I can't hate you forever"

I look at the man who was my mainstay for years, my confidant, best friend, accomplice, the guy who won my heart with gumdrops and notes in candy wrappers. The man I fell in love with and broke my heart. There is a mixture of feelings in me, hurt, pain, hope, resentment, all of it shaking my heart nonstop, I don't know what to feel.

"I don't know if I can have you around, Carlos, you were really my best friend, but you were also the guy I fell in love with and who broke my heart, I don't know if I'm ready to have you back"

He swallows, taking in what I said, and for a moment, I think he's going to give up and walk away, but he nods and straightens his posture "okay, I'm going to prove that I'm sorry, for everything, for being a shitty friend, a stupid guy, I'm going to make you forgive me and" he pauses, to emphasize everything "I'll be with you, I'll make up for all the years, all the pain, I'll deserve you, Y/N, I swear"

I don't even know what to think, my mind goes blank as I try to understand what he's up to.

"What if I don't want to?" The question escapes my mouth without permission, the filter between my brain and mouth is off, apparently. "What makes you think I might want you in my life again?"

He doesn't respond for a few minutes, I can almost see the gears in Carlos' head turning, trying to find a good answer.

"Nothing, but that's never been an impediment for me, you know"

I just stare at him, surprised by that, my mouth articulates, but no sound comes out.

"You came all the way here from Spain for this?"

"I would come from anywhere in the world"

After that there wasn't much we could say, Carlos insisted on staying and making pancakes for me, and I couldn't say no as my stomach growled like a monster at the mention of food. In an instant I was watching Carlos move everything in my kitchen, he chops strawberries and blackberries while letting the pancake batter rest for a while.

“Aaron looked for you?” He questions, putting the fruit in a bowl and only looks at me when I sigh loudly. "What? Has he been bothering you? I'll sort it out"

"What? No, no! He didn't show up"

"Then why do you look frustrated?" I watch Carlos put the frying pan on the fire and add the yeast to the dough, and then stir gently, placing small discs in the hot pan.

"I'm just tired, all the stress from the trip is still affecting my sleep..." I murmur, stealing a piece of strawberry, the smell of the pancakes increases my hunger and Carlos laughs when he hears my belly rumbling. "Don't laugh, I'm eating for two and you have no idea how much this little one likes to eat"

We enter another silent space, Carlos focused on finishing the pancakes and my mind wanders to our conversation, some time before. I'm not a hypocrite in saying that I've already forgiven Carlos, but I don't think there's still space for that kind of resentment, I'm not eighteen anymore, I'm about to be a mother, I no longer have the time or inclination to feed old grudges. And God knows how much I missed him all these years, I refused to watch any races so I wouldn't have to see him. Calling Carlos and asking for his help seems to have put all our dramas in order, It made me understand that one way or another, my life would end up intertwined with his again.

No matter how much I wanted or tried, I would never be able to completely move away from Carlos, and it's time to accept that.

"Here you go, eat it all, I don't want your baby to grow up hating me" he says and pushes over a plate full of pancakes, berries, honey and some icing sugar. A beautiful montage.

"I hope it's good, or we'll both hate you" I reply and laugh when he turns pale, I take out a generous piece and the sweet smell intoxicates me for a few seconds. I go to heaven and back when I chew the piece of pancake, the taste is light and the dough melts in my mouth, I know I can eat this for the rest of my life and be happy every day.

"Holy fucking God, this is perfect, Carlos!" I take a piece of pancake with a strawberry and feel heaven on my tongue, a moan of appreciation makes my whole body vibrate, this is perfect, damn"If you had used that to apologize, I would have definitely accepted it from the beginning."

"if I had known food was the secret, I would have come prepared" He laughs as I finish eating, nothing more is said until I finish the second helping, which Carlos was happy to serve me.

I slide my finger across the plate, picking up the traces of honey and sugar, humming as I literally wipe the plate clean. I insist that he put everything in the dishwasher and come sit with me so we can sort everything out, once and for all.

"I still can't believe you came all the way to London... You got my address from the driver and you're here, making me pancakes and everything..." I say, playing with one of the cushions while Carlos takes the armchair in front of me. I allow myself to face him, he's even more handsome than before, the trail of beard over his chiseled jaw, his thick hair in an elegant mess, Carlos is a vision of fucking paradise.

"I'm not lying, Y/N, I really want to make amends with you, in any way" he assures, and breaks the distance between us, sitting next to me while holding my hands. "You missed me so much, and when you called me crying, I realized that we missed so much from each other, I wanted you to be at my first victory with Ferrari, I wanted to see your graduation, help you move in... "

In a strange way, I'm grateful that he doesn't mention the fact that I was in love with him, not that I'm ashamed of it, but ignoring it might make us easier to get along with.

"We can try, Carlos, try to be friends again, because my goodness, I missed you so much" I confess and he laughs.

"I promise to make it worth it, cielo" he squeezes my hands, running his thumb affectionately from the back of my hand. "I won't disappoint you"

"I bet it'll be a boy," he says, stealing a spoonful of my ice cream, fast enough to avoid the hit of my spoon on his hand. "God said to share bread, you know?"

"Exactly, He said to share the bread, not my ice cream" I mumble, protecting the container with my body. Carlos has been coming to my house for weeks, always bringing food — I'm beginning to suspect that it has a direct connection to my stomach and my hunger —, gifts for the baby and books on child psychology, food introduction and everything he considers necessary to educate a child. He's been taking over my couch whenever he has time off. I dare say that I see more Carlos than my neighbors. "And why do you think it will be a boy? This is misogyny, Sainz"

He tries to steal my ice cream again and this time I slap him right in the middle of the forehead, which is effective because he moves away. "I'm not being sexist, I'm following my intuition, okay?"

"The last time we followed your intuition, we ended up in the middle of nowhere, at three in the morning in a car without gas. If it weren't for my father, you would be grounded to this day." I respond, changing the sofa, Carlos is willing to steal my ice cream, interfering with a pregnant woman's right to satisfy her desire for a sweet treat after lunch. I'm going to report him to human rights.

"But do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"I have no idea, I still don't have that 'maternal intuition' that I've seen in the support group for solo mothers, but I'm fine with any option, I'll love it regardless of gender" I say, my right hand slides over my recently completed five-month-old belly. "I should have found out the sex at the last appointment with the obstetrician, but this little one here had his back turned, can you believe it?"

Carlos laughs, throwing his entire body back and falling onto the sofa. I just watch him laugh, being enveloped by his laughter like a fluffy blanket.

"Seriously, I didn't even know that was possible, crossing your legs, ok, but being on your back is something new" he says, still laughing and drying his tears. I just realize how close he is, When I feel your hand on my belly, the calloused palm warms my skin even with the shirt between us. My breath hitches in my throat, something new growing and It's not just the little traveler in my womb... I don't know if that could be a good thing, especially considering our history.

"Yeah, she told me to go back there in a few days, if I want to find out the gender before the sixth month, then I'll be there on Tuesday, I won't have a meeting at work and I can buy the paints" I explain, poking at the ice cream, trying to distract myself from Carlos' hand on my belly.

"I just need to be in Maranello on Saturday, so I can join you if you want" he suggests, finally moving to his end of the sofa.

"Really? I don't want to disturb you, I know race week is coming and you need to prepare" I say trying, I don't even know what I'm trying, I'm going to blame my exploding hormones.

"I can deal with that later, you need my opinion on paint colors and someone to hold your hand while you root for the business class traveler to be facing forward this time" he said, and looks at me meaningfully "that is, I am most needed here"

"Are you sure? You don't need to go"

"I would be there, even if I were playing crosswords in the office waiting room" he says, without giving me any chance for discussion.

"Okay, whoever said that is no longer here, now pass the ice cream slowly and no one gets hurt" I say and hold out my hand, waiting for the container he stole when he thought I wasn't looking. "Now"

"That's unfair," he grumbles, handing over the pot.

"I'll let you have the ice cream if you get pregnant in my place."

"You win, you can have the ice cream"

-- ♡ --

"Do you want me to come in with you?" He asks and I bite my lip to keep from laughing, Carlos is holding my bag under his shoulder. Quite a scene.

"I need someone to hold my hand, and" I look behind him "I don't see any more volunteers, so smile, you've been selected" I smile, waving my index finger as if it were a flag.

"Okay, let's confirm that my intuition is right"

"Uh-huh, of course yes, cielo" I say, entering the office.

The obstetrician doesn't need to ask any initial questions, since I was here a few days ago, so asking how I am is irrelevant. I change into that horrible hospital gown and lie down on the stretcher, Carlos looks anxious in the passenger seat and my hand grabs his so fast I don't even register it, I laugh nervously as the cold gel is spread across my bulging belly.

"Let's hope he's being an exhibitionist today" she says confidently and starts to use the device.

"How can you understand anything here, it's all blurry" he says, approaching the screen. "Where is his head?"

"Shut up, chilli" I say, but I give a nervous laugh "I don't understand anything either, so let those who do understand tell you what we're seeing", I shake his hand and receive an eager smile.

"We're lucky today, he's turned around, or rather, she" she indicates on the screen and I start crying immediately, Carlos squeezes my hand and wipes my tears. "Congratulations, you will be parents of a very strong-willed girl."

"Oh, no, no, I'm just the family friend" Carlos corrects her, but this is forgotten, given how much I'm crying. "You're crying a lot, should I be worried, cielo?"

"I-I'm fine" I sniffle crying less, I'm having a little girl, I don't even know what to say, I'm exploding like fireworks "I'm fine, really"

"I'll leave you two alone" the obstetrician leaves and I feel, cleaning the gel from my abdomen and I am hugged tightly, Carlos supports me with care and zeal, there is so much between the lines here, so much implied.

"That little girl is so lucky to be born as your daughter" he murmurs, stroking my hair gently "a little girl, damn you were right, my intuition is shit"

I press my hands to his shoulder blades so hard I feel my fingers tremble. "Thanks for coming"

"There's no place in the world I should be, cielo"

"You want me to go to the next race? Why?"

"I like having important people cheering me on there, and Charles is bothering me to meet you" he says, painting the wall lilac, he's all dirty, there's dye in his hair, and of course, he is shirtless. As long as I don't have a knife at my neck, I will never confess that the vision is messing with me. "I will take care of everything, you can stay in the same hotel as me"

"You should stop taking care of everything, or you'll have a heart attack instead of appendicitis" I murmur, Carlos insisted that I sit and watch him paint, he even brought books, chopped fruit and even Alexa to play my favorite playlist. "Seriously Charles Leclerc wants to meet me? Why?"

"I have no idea, Charles must have heard it one of the times you called me" he replies. Carlos speaks so quickly that there's no way not to be suspicious, but I give him the benefit of the doubt, I'm sure Charles will tell me why.

"Mhmm, I know... Now I'm curious to meet him too... But the trip to Budapest can be so tiring..." I murmur, peeling the pear as I watch him slide the paint roller along the wall perfectly, Carlos is meticulous and perfectionist in everything he sets out to do, so I admire the paint stains in his hair and on different parts of his body, thank God the fan is on here, otherwise I would be melting from the heat, and having him there, almost naked, doesn't help much.

“It’s not like I’m going to let you take a commercial flight to Hungary, please Y/N, I’m not that petty!” He retorts, touching up the paint on the roller while giving me a quick look "You will go with me to Budapest, on a private flight and I will leave you staying in the same hotel as me, if you are worried, I will hire a private neonatal nurse to accompany us, but I really want you to go, it's important for me to have you two there with me."

"If you insist on that—..." I try to say, but he interrupts me.

"I insist yes, and I'm glad you agreed, I was ready to start the Infallible Convincing Plan for Carlos Sainz" he says and I laugh loudly "What? Am I not convincing?"

"Persuasion isn't one of your best qualities, chilli" I mutter, picking up the folded sheet of paper from among the books he brought me "changing the subject, I listed the female names that I liked most for the baby, feel free to give your opinion, I'm quite undecided here, I have good options."

"I'm listening, I hope they are good names and none taken from the books, considering how obsessed with A Court of Roses and Thorns you are, the girl is in danger of being called Feyre" Carlos shamelessly mocks me and I throw the pear stem at him. "I'm just telling the truth, cielo, but come on, give me the options"

"You know, Ancient Egypt has been my Roman Empire for years, so I thought I would pay homage to one of the greatest queens of that civilization, none other than Cleopatra, but" I pause, aware that Carlos will want to object, so I continue quickly "I chose to shorten the name, Cleo. It's a good option, right?"

"It's a beautiful, elegant and feminine name. I like it, you have a good option" he responds, with his back to me, giving a beautiful view of his lats contracting and relaxing. Oh God, what a hell of a handsome man.

"Well, the next option is Athena, as the Greek goddess of justice, wisdom and war, I don't think I need to explain further, right?"

"It's good, but I still prefer Cleo"

"I like Margot and Elena, they are both elegant and short, I didn't think about long and complicated names, I don't want her to have problems learning to write her own name"

"It's a good justification, giving her a name that's easy to read and write... So I still prefer Cleo"

"Don't you want to hear the other options?"

"Nope, I like Cleo, it's beautiful and very meaningful, and it matches her last name, she'll love it, when she understands it"

I hadn't thought about my last name when choosing the names, so Carlos' reasoning makes sense, so I already had a name chosen.

"Alright, we have a winner, I like Cleo too, thanks for helping me choose"

"You're welcome, we are here to serve well and always serve" he makes an exaggerated bow and I laugh.

"Oh really? My kitchen faucet is dripping non-stop, can you fix it for me?" I ask ironically and Carlos wipes the sweat from his face, giving me another meaningful look.

"Of course yes, cielo, I'll sort it out as soon as I'm done here"

"I'm kidding, chilli, you don't have to worry about it"

"But not me, I'll sort it out as soon as it's over" he insists and I give up trying to make him give up, Carlos is as stubborn as a wild horse, it's no wonder he's at Ferrari. Which makes me think of something:

"I agree to go with you, but I want to meet Lewis, it's my condition" I point my index finger and Carlos looks at me, raising his eyebrow.

"Really? I need to find out what makes Lewis Hamilton so appealing to the female audience" I can't identify the feeling in his voice, and I adjust myself in the seat, stroking my protruding belly. Being pregnant isn't easy, the nausea, all the swelling and fluid retention is horrible, I was already sleeping poorly because my belly wouldn't let me find a comfortable position and of course, I've already lost all my clothes. But I don't regret for a moment having continued with the pregnancy, my little traveler is a gift, Cleo already makes my days wonderful. I observe the lilac covering the walls little by little, making her room take on shape and color, soon the furniture would be assembled.

"I think it's the voice, he has a very good voice to listen to, I could listen to hours of ASMR of him speaking" I respond, hearing Carlos mumble intelligibly. "What did you think of color? I didn't want pink because I thought it was too obvious, and I love the combination of lilac and green"

"I like it, they are very pretty shades and you chose a good brand, they don't have a strong smell and they pigment well on the wall... I'm almost done here, where do you leave the tools to fix the tap?"

"Carlos, I was joking, don't worry about it, the plumber will come on Tuesday to fix it, I'm serious" I say, hoping he will forget this story. "Don't worry, it's serious!"

He puts the rest of the paint in the can and takes the paint roller to the laundry area. I even try to help, but Carlos forces me to sit down again when he returns from the laundry area. He himself collects the newspapers from the floor and opens the windows.

"I need a shower now, can I use your bathroom?"

"Obviously, feel free, I'll order a pizza for us" I say, following him to the living room, Carlos waves and gives a quick kiss and and go to my bathroom in the suite. I see how his jeans fit well on his hips, leaving the waistband of his underwear slightly visible and God only knows how that messes with my hormones. “Y/N, you fucking need to control yourself, he’s your best friend, stop acting like a needy bitch.

"Are you Y/N? Finally! It's a pleasure to meet you, Carlos talked a lot, a lot about you!" Charles tells me, giving me a tight, loving hug. He is really very handsome and It's easy to understand why his fans are so obsessed with him, he's gorgeous. He has an adorable dimpled smile on his face and I feel shaken all of a sudden.

"He also spoke a lot about you, Charles, it's great to meet you too" I return the hug.

"I hope he said good things"

"I tell her the truth!" Carlos shouted from afar.

Soon we are surrounded by the team, who are extremely warm and kind to me, but I feel claustrophobic among so many people.

"Okay guys, give her space, please, you're making her suffocate" Carlos appears as a salvation and takes me out of the crowd, Charles follows us to the empty area of the garage. "Are you okay, cielo? Here, drink some water, it's too hot and you can't get dehydrated." He offers me a disposable cup of water and makes me sit down. "I have to talk to my mechanics now, but Charles can take you for a ride in the pitlane, if that's okay?"

"Of course, of course don't worry, you can go, we'll be fine"

"Well, take care of them, Charles"

"Relax, being with me is the same as being with God, relax cabrón"

"That's what scares me" Carlos says and kisses me quickly on the cheek, not caring what it does to me, not that he knows.

"Ready? I'm going to give you the best guided tour of the pitlane" Charles interlaces his arm in the middle and guides me through the pitlane, he is approached by a lot of people, always being extremely kind and attentive, he makes some jokes while introducing the places and some people.

"Y/N! Carlos didn't tell me you were coming!" Lando comes running towards us and hugs me too, we were already close to the Mercedes garage, one of the employees told us that Lewis was in a meeting, so I decided to wait

"It was a last minute decision, there was no way to warn you anyway" I say while Charles takes a chair from the Mercedes garage and makes me sit down.

"Why did you meet her before me?! I hear Sainz talking about her all day!"

"I live in London and I met her during his visit, so I tagged along! It's not my fault you don't live in London!" Lando retorts and I laugh at them.

"Sorry if I'm Monegasque! I didn't choose to be born in Monaco!" My laughter echoes around the room and they stop arguing, and then they laugh too, but the moment is interrupted by Lewis Fucking Hamilton. He's more impressive up close, damn it.

"It's good to finally meet Carlos' girl, you've been the talk of the paddock, he says and my cheeks burn and he hugs me too. The four of us talk for almost forty minutes, Lewis is exactly what I expected, polite, kind and attentive, he really has the aura, that aura that few people have and that made it clear why he is one of the greatest in the sport. He's really impressive.

"Let's go to the garage chérie, you need to get some rest, it's too hot for you to stay out here" Charles says as he guides me to the Ferrari garage, where Carlos is already waiting for us, Seeing him is like a cool breeze on a scorching day, he looks so good in red that wow, it hurts to remember he's leaving the Tifosi.

"How was it? Did you enjoy the ride? Did Charles treat you well?" He asks and sizes me up, but I nod dismissively and hear Charles click his tongue, offended.

"I'm fine, Charles was a perfect gentleman to me, and we met Lando on the way, it was amazing!" I say.

"That's great, cielo, let's go to my room, you need to rest, there was a lot of excitement today" He takes me to his private room and lets me rest on the bed there, I don't mind, my feet hurt so much and I wanted to get some sleep, Carlos sits on the edge and rubs my belly, he looks strange, like he's uncomfortable. "Are you okay? How is Cleo?"

"We're fine, she's great" I reply and feel her move and kick, Cleo is Carlos' biggest fan, apparently, she always moves when he speaks, loves the sound of his voice and kicks in the exact place where his hand is. She's going to be his biggest groupie, and there's no argument.

I watch him, feeling my heart beat like a fool, Carlos has been exactly what I hope he will be, a friend, a great companion, he is always in connection with me, I hate knowing that I'm falling in love with him again, that I'm entering that gray area again, putting our friendship at risk because of my stupid feelings, so I'm going to swallow whatever I feel because I'm not willing to be without my best friend again, I couldn't bear to lose him and I want him to be part of my daughter's life, of our life. So it's okay for me to stay in the friend zone if it keeps him around.

"What's bothering you, chilli? You look strange"

"I... I need to tell you something"

"Carlos, if you brought me to Budapest just to kick me out of your life, I swear to God I will run you over with your own car!" I exclaim, trying to pinch his muscular abdomen but failing, obviously.

"What? Of course not, it's nothing like that" he laughs nervously "It's something else... Well, I know this shouldn't happen, and I don't even know how to tell you this, but spending the last few months with you It's been the best thing in my life, I love spending any available time with you and Cleo, helping you with everything, this has left an impression on me and continues to leave a lasting impression on me, I'm so grateful for allowing me to be a part of this."

He stops, leaving tension in the air, making me anxious.

"What I want to say, cielo, is that my feelings have changed, I no longer feel like your friend, I'm just falling more in love with you every day, I tried to avoid it, because we are friends, but it was inevitable and when I realized it, I was already in love. I know it's not the best case scenario, and I broke your heart before, so it's okay with me if you don't reciprocate, but please, let me stay close to you, close to Cleo, I already love this little traveler, I love her so much and it hurts to imagine not being around—..."

I didn't even notice when I sat down on the bed, but I notice the exact moment my hand grabs the collar of his red t-shirt and I kiss him. As I imagined doing since I was sixteen. Carlos responds almost immediately, there is urgency, care and satisfaction in his kiss, all spiced up by the sweet taste of cinnamon. It's exactly how I always imagined it. It's sweet, strong and intense.

"If it's up to us, you'll be with us forever, cielo" I say and he breathes a sigh of relief, kissing me again while leaving his calloused hand on my belly.

"I'm going back to London now, fuck it, my little girl is coming" he says on the cell phone, I hear the sound of him moving around the room, I breathe loudly when the contraction hurts and I want to cry, but I don't.

"No, no, you're saying goodbye to Ferrari, Cleo won't like knowing that her father is abandoning the race like that" I say in one breath. "We're fine, okay? Blanca is here with me and Reyes will be here soon, please stay calm, love and promise me you will win, for us"

Carlos whimpers and I stop holding him, bursting into tears, I wanted him with me there, but I would never forgive myself if he didn't race his last race with the Maranello team, and Cleo will understand in the future. I know it will.

"Cielo... This is fucking unfair" he kicks something and I sob "I wish I was there, you need me, both of you"

"Win the race, chilli, for us!" I scream because Blanca takes the phone away from me, because I enter the operating room.

-- ♡ --

Cleo is perfect, there is nothing Aaron about her, thank heavens and she is absurdly restless, she doesn't cry, but she doesn't sit still either. I'm absurdly in love with my little traveler, ga she is beautiful, healthy and was born at exactly the same time that Carlos won the race in Abu Dhabi, that didn't give him the championship, but it was extremely important for us, because the checkered flag waved when she cried.

"She's beautiful" Blanca is standing next to the stretcher, holding my daughter's little hand while Cleo breastfeeds, still with her eyes closed. The silence of the maternity corridor is broken by quick footsteps, the door to my room is opened with force and I see Carlos there, he still looks like a mess in his Ferrari overalls, messy hair and very, very tired.

He doesn't say anything, he just walks towards us and kisses my forehead for long seconds and looks at Cleo.

"I'll leave you alone" Blanca gives a suspicious smile and leaves the room.

"Lamento llegar tarde, pequeña estrella, pero gané la carrera por ti". He says in Spanish and I melt with so much love, Cleo seems to recognize his voice and calm down. "she is beautiful, too beautiful, I'm sorry for being late, mi amor"

"It's okay, chilli, you're here at the right time" I say, grateful to smell his expensive cologne, it feels like home and gives me so much comfort. "Thanks for coming."

"There's nowhere I want to be, cielo" he murmurs, carefully I make Cleo stop breastfeeding and cover her breast with the hospital gown. "are you really okay, cielo?"

"I'm, I'm fine actually... How did you get here so fast?"

"Fred left a jet ready for me, I just did the race, got the trophy and came here as soon as I could" he says, running his finger on Cleo's cheek. "She's so beautiful, her nose is identical to yours, happily."

"Do you want to hold her?"

He looks nervous, but accepts it. Carefully, Carlos places Cleo on his lap and walks around the room, talking softly to her, it's the most adorable scene in the world, my heart fills with love as I watch them.

"Cielo, will you marry me?" He says, still looking at the baby in his lap. "I want you close to me always, I want to take care of you, of Cleo. God, I love you both so much and I can't spend another day away from you"

"Are you serious?

"Damn it! I've never been so serious in my life"

"Yes, yes, yes! There is no one better for me, no better father for Cleo" I say in tears, and he comes over, sitting next to me on the hospital gurney. We both watch Cleo sleep in his arms, she looks comfortable and happy with him, just like me.

Months later.

"Let's go see daddy, sweetheart" I say, clearing the entrance to the paddock. It was Cleo's first race since she was born, Carlos had been looking forward to this race for weeks, but didn't want to travel with her so young, so I waited for the Silverstone circuit. I'm in the process of moving to Madrid, but it's happening gradually because of the racing, the 2025 season has been unusual, Williams is finally scoring well, Carlos is having a great season so far, so I thought it was only right that we came to support his race.

Cleo babbles happily, clapping her hands as the team members greet us and joke with Cleo, my little traveler laughs to everyone. She is Miss Congeniality herself, drawing attention wherever he goes. When we finally arrive at the garage, we are greeted by the sound of an engine being tested, the mess of Netflix with the team and Carlos aside, talking to Alex as if they were two old gossips, and when he sees us, he smiles so wide it shines like the sun.

"¡Mi estrellita!" He talks loudly as he comes towards us, Cleo claps her hands and laughs, making the cute baby sounds, getting the team's attention, I don't mind seeing my little girl be his focus first, this is part of what I idealize paradise to be. Cleo laughs as Carlos kisses and tickles her, so I go to greet the team, ask James what his predictions are for the day's race and talk to Alex.

"Where's Lily? I thought I'd have company during the race" I look around, trying to find her, but I hear Alex sigh.

"She's at a golf tournament in Asia, she won't be back until Thursday" he says sadly "She wanted to come, especially since it was Cleo's first race, but she couldn't miss it..."

"Oh, and will it be broadcast? I want to root for her" I say, the two of us spent a long time talking until Carlos came to us, they are both blushing and smiling, which makes my heart skip a beat.

"Hey cutie, I loved your blue jumpsuit it suits you so much" Alex holds out his hands to her and of course my daughter goes with open arms to him, Alex takes her for a walk and sees her cats, giving me and Carlos a little time together.

"Hey cielo, Thank you for coming, it's important to have you here" he says and kisses me, wrapping his arm around my waist, keeping me close."I like this dress, any special occasions?" He says, looking me from head to toe, I try not to blush under his malicious scrutiny.

"I thought we could have dinner today after the race"

"Oh, really? I think we can request a special babysitting service from Lando and Charles... And extend our dinner to the room, what do you think?"

"Excellent! We can make things better then" I suggest, playing with the zipper on his suit.

"And how do you intend to make things better, mi cielo?" He asks quietly, and suddenly everything around us disappears, leaving just the two of us there. The air becomes thicker and my breathing is heavy with anticipation.

"A bet, if you win the race, I'm in your hands, otherwise, you'll be under my yoke, what do you think?" I suggest softly, he laughs, running his tongue over his lips as he stares at me.

"I'm in, and I'm prepared mi amor, because I'm going to be at the highest place on the podium today" He assures me and kisses me, the team calls him to run, I find Alex and Cleo in the corner of the garage, both playing with one of his kittens.

"Come on baby, let's let Uncle Alex run" I pick Cleo up and she whimpers, wanting to keep playing with the puppy. "then we play with the kitten, love, I promise" I say to to comfort her, Alex promises to leave the kitten with Cleo later. The two drivers prepare for the race and I decide to watch from Carlos' room. Cleo is not used to the noise of the cars and I don't want it to become a nuisance for her.

The whole race is full of unforeseen events and surprises, no one is really expecting Williams to perform well, but Carlos and Alex are getting everything they can out of the car, putting pressure on Lewis and Lando in the first positions, the last laps literally become a game of musical chairs, the four exchange risky overtakes, the last lap is marked by an interesting exchange and Carlos takes first place, with Lewis in second and Alex in third. Cleo and I celebrated in the pilot room until we were taken to the garage, When Carlos arrives, he is euphoric and celebrates with the team, I love seeing his joy, how well he is with Williams. He comes to us and picks Cleo up, throwing her in the air and making her laugh. I'm taken by surprise when he kisses me, amidst applause and screams from the team.

"Thank you, thank you for everything, mi amor, I love you, I love our family"

"I love you, chilli, and I know Cleo does too" I respond, leaving my face close to his and kissing him again. I never thought that my life would have such a huge turnaround and that I would end up here, once again in love with my best friend and, on top of that, being reciprocated by him. I thank each and every entity that has guided me to this moment, I thank my incredible partner, my perfect family and our wonderful family.

I watch Carlos go get his trophy, he refuses to leave Cleo in the garage and she loves being in the middle of the mess.

And I love seeing them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#Spotify #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #s awturn

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wynters-writings · 5 months

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Thank you for tagging me in this @elizaellwrites! Love the questions you gave me and I will be using four characters from my WIP J&E.

More under the cut.

What is your favorite/most precious object?

Jet: My most precious object? It's my silver bass that Evander gifted me. *Smiling so big at the thought of them* To me it's so much more than an instrument as it is a physical token of their love at this point. And don't even think of harming it or else.

Evander: I don't really have a physical object that's my favorite or most precious, but I do consider music Jet plays and creates my favorite. I don't care what anyone says about that one. *Smiling as they say this*

Gunnar: I have a fluorite crystal tree I think is beautiful and have it on my desk for decoration. What? Who said lawyers are boring people who can't like beautiful things?

Marla: I have a croton plant I have in the backyard and it's huge. Took a while to do but it's impressive and I love it.

Who are your best friends/closest allies?

Jet: My best friends in life are Averi and my partner, Evander. My other friends are Ainsley, Aria, Elliott, Felix, Samantha, and Jasper.

Evander: Jet is my best friend even though he's my partner, but I think it's wonderful to have your partner be your best friend. As for my friend group, I have my two friends from college, Samantha and Jasper, and Jet's friends, Averi, Ainsley, Aria, Elliott, and Felix. Though out of his friends, I get along best with Averi, Aria, and Ainsley.

Gunnar: Just a few work colleges that I have close relationships with outside of work and my law firm partner.

Marla: Just some friends I have online from a few years ago I made when I was younger and hung out with often. Like to keep in touch that way.

Do you have any obsessions?

Jet: I think it's music and things that go into music production, but a certain someone says it's caffeine. Don't know why, I just have four bags of coffee and a large box of energy drinks I enjoy.

Evander: Have you seen my cabinet? It's tea. I love it and I'm a self proclaimed tea addict.

Gunnar: You want to know what the best type of coffee is for your taste, I'm the one who can tell you. I've tried a lot of different coffees to know what the differences are.

Marla: Landscaping designs are my thing and why I have a half complete degree in it. It's so beautiful and interesting that you can't help but love.

What's your family like?

Jet: *silence and slowly blinking* Can we go to the next question? I hate talking about this and I don’t want to either. Don’t care for any of it at all and want to forget about it all.

Evander: My family is very warm, accepting, and supportive. We are close knit and even though my sister and I are eight years apart, we’re very close and she looks to me as a role model which I’m honored to hold that position in her eyes.

Gunnar: I work a lot and I would love to have more time away from work to be with my family and son. But from what I hear, everything is going well and is when I’m there, so I’m glad and happy with that knowledge. Plus I will be able to have more time with them one day.

Marla: It’s very quiet and easy going. Can’t say that anything is going wrong with it and things are going well. Nothing to complain about.

Do you look up to anyone in particular?

Jet: I've always liked Salem from Ravenge and her demeanor, as well as being one of my favorite bassists who influenced me. She's truly one of the best and is an advocate for so many things that she is a certified badass.

Evander: Those who use their skills and voice to do good in the world on the behalf of others. It doesn't matter what their skill is that allows them to have a big enough voice, as long as they have that, I hold those people in high standing.

Gunnar: I wouldn't say look up to as much as I admire these types of people; those who overcome their difficult circumstances and come out on top despite everything. Those people have a drive few possess and that in of itself is highly admirable. So I suppose you could say I look up to those people by my reasoning.

Marla: I don't have anyone who I look up to as I don't care for that sort of thing. It's nothing to me and I won't bother.

I’m going to tag @kcooper95, @foxys-fantasy-tales, @fracturedfable, and @k--havok

Your questions are:

What is your favorite memory

What is your favorite way to spend a Sunday?

If you could have any object, what would it be and why?

What is your favorite type of music?

If you could have any skill, what would you choose and why?

#wynter's tags

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lightrises · 3 years

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"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

#hollow knight #hornet (hollow knight)#hornet hollow knight #hk hornet #the radiance #hk radiance #herrah #hk herrah #hollow knight meta #sup folks it's been a minute since i dropped a whole dang essay but Here We Go!!!!!!

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pynkhues · 3 years

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. Hi, tbh Im feeling kinda sad lol That ep for me just didn't really give me closure I guess. I feel like the introduction of Nick's character was really just more to serve Beth's storyline than Rio. As we seen from these flashbacks Nick and Rio have such a toxic relationship. Nick Is an abuser!! He had such a hold on Rio for so long. I don't like the implication that Rio only decided that Nick has to go because of Beth it also doesnt make sense . It would have been more satisfying if Rio was the one working towards the entire szn to take Nick down.

Also wish i could have enjoyed the bench scene. I couldn't really because Anne and Ruby were suffering. Not that I want to see any of the girls suffer but I feel like every ch this szn suffered but Beth . She really never faced any consequences. Sure yes she got shot but compared to other injuries shown in the show.(Turner, Rio of course, Ruby etc) I say it wasn't that bad. They rly glossed over it pretty quickly . Now shes in such a power position and has Rio working for her!! Which full circle but this feels off . I guess what I'm saying is that none of what happened felt earned if that makes sense? IMO it all felt very rushed. . Sorry if this comes off negative n sry for how long this is lol. Would love to hear from your perspective?

Hi! I’m sorry you feel sad about it, anon, and I’m sorry that you don’t feel like it gave you closure! I get that – series finale’s are challenging at the best of times, but especially when show’s don’t realise they’re the finale, much like Good Girls didn’t with this season.

You’ve asked a few questions here, so I’m going to break it down into two sections, the first being Rio, Beth and Nick, and the second being that Beth didn’t suffer any consequences, and look, I’m going to prep you early! While I agree with a lot of your minor points, I don’t really agree with either of your major ones. I can absolutely see your standpoint on the first, which I’ll come to shortly; but I’m genuinely baffled at this point by anyone thinking that Beth hasn’t suffered any real consequence across the course of this show. In fact, I’d argue that she’s the character who has suffered the most consequences, and quite frankly, I’m exhausted by the hunger to see her punished.

I’ll come to that point too though.

Okay, let’s start with Nick.

Nick is abusive! I agree with that absolutely. I think he’s a toxic person who has manipulated Rio and positioned him where he wants him for a lot of their lives, but I disagree that Rio necessarily wanted out of that. What we saw of their relationship in s4 was that it was symbiotic. They function in a relationship which is mutually beneficial. Rio makes Nick money, Nick protects Rio and gives him broader professional networks.

Otherwise, they live separate lives, something very much established in 4.06 with the fact that Nick had no idea who Beth even was.

Rio has always seen Beth first and foremost as an avenue to opportunity. She was a pathway to a world he hadn’t had access to in s1, then one to the Boland Motors operation in s2, and free money in s3, and then as a way to greater power in s4. Yeah, his personal feelings were in play in the latter too, but Rio only entertained Beth taking down Nick when he saw it as a way of securing a better portion of Detroit himself.

He only talked to her about it when she was already running for city council, had Sweet P’s and the money laundering behind her, and was going after Nick herself.

Every character on this show is, in some way, parasitic, but especially Rio. I don’t even mean that in a bad way! He’s a smart guy who knows what works, knows what’ll run, and he attaches himself to that. He’s been that way since he saw a use for the girls in sending them over the border in 1.03. This is a huge part of the character he is, and him balancing his affection for Beth and his strained relationship with Nick doesn’t – and shouldn’t – change that. So why would he exit out of a beneficial relationship with Nick before he had an alternative?

God, in some ways, it’s probably easier for Rio to have a bad relationship with the person feeding that need for him, because there’s less of an attachment.

I think that the shifting power dynamics between Rio, Nick and Beth were really pivotal to that arc overall and that Rio saw advantage in the same breath that he realised his own weaknesses, and I think the arc let Beth reconnect with Rio in a meaningful way while letting her redistribute her hunger for power in a way that ultimately allowed her to see Rio as a co-captain instead of the lifeboat she’s always hadto see him as because of her circumstances.

Nick was a tool that let the power between them rebalance itself, and gave them both the chance to move forwards as equals, and I think that was felt in both their arcs, not just in Beth’s or just in Rio’s.

Beth has faced no consequences

Oh, anon. I know you don’t mean it this way, but this is something that infuriates me on so many levels.

Beth has, over the course of the season, lost everything.

She lost her parents before the series even began, her house in the pilot, her marriage and financial security at multiple points, the entire contents of her house in season 3, her children in season 2, and her relationship with her chosen family, Ruby, in s2 and s4. She’s been pursued aggressively by the FBI and the Secret Service, turned herself in and was arrested by the FBI, she’s been shot, she’s been cheated on by her husband, betrayed by her husband, set up, kidnapped, blackmailed and threatened by Rio, and strongarmed into a date with Fitzpatrick. She’s had a friend murdered, been chewed out by her best friend’s husband, and now, had her sister arrested for a crime neither of them commit, but a man tried to get her to take the blame for.

What else would you like to see her lose?

How else would you like her to face consequences?

How else do you think she should suffer?

And why do you think she should suffer more than she already has?

Because if you don’t think she’s paid her dues at this point, I don’t know what to tell you anymore beyond the fact that this makes me very, very sad.

#gg 4.16 #beth boland #rio #beth x rio #nbc good girls #welcome to my ama #gg spoilers

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gyucore · 4 years

Text

long live the king

pairing: mage!hueningkai x noble!reader

tags: fluff, royalty au, friends to lovers, hueningkai can do magic

word count: 3.3k

prompts:

011: "May I have this dance?"

019: "I don't think anyone could ever be as lovely as you."

020: "You look incredible in that."

Tonight had been advertised as the night to end all nights— a masquerade ball held by the king at the palace, and a brightly lit ballroom decorated with gold and the continent's finest silk, adorning the kingdom's rose insignia. Entertainers and musicians positioned around the vicinity to perform their best acts and tunes, and the gates were left wide open to welcome everyone who wanted to join in, given that they tried their best to dress for the occasion.

Today was an event open to all the kingdom's citizens, from high seated nobles to common men by the streets, everyone was welcome to participate in the king's annual ball. However, that fact didn't matter for a family such as yours. Your father was the Marquess, which meant that you were invited to every single ball or gathering held by the nobility for the nobility. At least, that was how it had been until the incident.

The peering eyes of both the nobles and commoners alike have left you frozen on your spot by the pillar. Your bright red ball gown, although beautiful, was not helping you hide away from the eyes of the crowd. It was evident they were all thinking the same thing.

The unfortunate daughter of a fallen marquess.

News had gotten out about your family's crisis and had spread to the public like a disease. The Grand Marquess losing money, property, and power: The fall of a great noble. The story made headlines for weeks on end— rumors mixing in with the truth, and eventually, everyone had drawn the same conclusion. Pitiful.

You worry about your parents at the other end of the room, doing their best to mingle with the other nobles. The heavy atmosphere was weighing down on your chest.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you try to think of the things that calmed you down: the rustic smell of old books at the public library, the warm feeling you'd get when the rays of sunlight touch your skin as you sit by the window with your face buried deep into your favorite classic, the bright smile the common mage boy would give you everytime you crossed paths—

"Wow."

A familiar voice brings you back from your thoughts.

"You look incredible in that." The same bright smile you'd envisioned earlier now stood in front of you.

You gaze in awe at the man before you, dressed in what you could only describe as the most beautiful and elegant ensemble you'd seen tonight. The way the white suit hugged his waist left little room for the imagination. You doubt even the king himself could top this off.

"Lady Y/N. I believe fate must have brought us together in this fine evening." The man gently bends down, taking your hand and planting a kiss so fleeting that you barely felt it. Even with the golden mask on, you could easily tell who it was.

"Kai.."

"Ah, and here I was hoping I'd be a little more mysterious tonight." Kai holds back his laughter as he gazed upon you once more. You can't help but do the same.

Tonight, he looked nothing of a common mage but that of a king himself. If you hadn't known him beforehand, you would've mistaken him as so, especially with tonight's main event— the reveal of the king's successor. But alas, what the mage boy had going on for him was merely for appearances. A commoner like him could never be king in a world where even dreaming of becoming one was considered to be of highest absurdity.

"I thought you said you weren't attending?"

Kai shrugs, folding his hands behind his back. "And refuse my lady when you so graciously asked me out?"

His response catches you off guard. "I don't recall ever asking you anything of that sort."

"You asked if I'd attend."

"And that counts as asking you out?"

Kai chuckles. "When you asked me with such a cute look on your face, it was difficult to think you weren't looking forward to me being here."

And he was right. Given your circumstances, Kai being here with you was like a breath of fresh air. You'd been praying all night that he'd magically arrive to help you take your mind off of things, and you felt like crying out in joy when he actually did.

Kai looks around, seemingly getting a sense of the pressure you were in. "Shall we take a stroll around the garden, my lady?"

You follow his line of sight and spot the royal garden just outside the window. "I'll let you accompany me if you drop the whole my lady business."

Kai purses his lips as he takes your hand in his. "Can't you let me be fancy for one night?"

Every moment you'd spent with Kai up until this point had been the highlight of your days. As the daughter of the Marquess, you'd spent most of your time holed up inside your manor. Women barely got any education aside from the usual classes on manners and societal etiquette, and that included nobles as well. But that never stopped you. Once a week, when the guards changed shifts by the gate, and the maids and butlers were all busy with the weekly general cleaning, you'd take the opportunity to slip out in disguise, undetected by anyone. The main goal was to get to the public library and obtain access to educational material— ones that didn't involve any prim and proper rubbish that you've read over a thousand times.

The first time outside was rather difficult. You barely managed to get inside the library's more educational section while passing as a man. However, every succeeding attempt became easier and easier until coming out in secret and gaining access didn't seem like that much of a hassle anymore.

At the library, you were free to read any book you want, and used this opportunity to brush up on some business and economics as well as some of the basic sciences. You spent the first few months stocking up on knowledge until you felt it fine to relax a little and start reading novels to pass the time without the help of a disguise.

There was a section in the library that you hadn't checked; one that you'd deemed unnecessary as it only contained children's literature. It wasn't until you'd heard the sound of a man's voice followed by children's laughter that you felt compelled enough to take a peek.

"And then, the dragon swooped down onto the village and attacked the innocent villagers! ROARRR. Breathing fire as hot as, well, uh— FIRE!"

You slipped up and giggled at the young man's amusing narration, piping down a bit after realizing that he had noticed you from behind the shelves, throwing a knowing smirk your way.

It was then that he pulled down his cloak. Wavy brown locks gracefully reaching the back of his neck, bright eyes that could make any person let their guard down— he looked around your age which made you feel more at ease.

The young man steps back, dramatically breathing fire out of his mouth as the children cheered. Some were yelling at him to continue until only smoke came out, and you swore you heard one of them ask if he could make the fire turn green. Ridiculous, you think. But you were no different from these children, only being able to stand there in awe at the young man's trick. Perhaps turning the fire green wasn't such a terrible idea.

You've heard of mages among the commoners before, and had met a few that visited your manor but this was the first time you'd seen one in action. The flames that came out of his mouth looked awfully hot but the young man didn't even blink or showed any signs of pain.

He stops the fire and clears his throat, now kneeling down to face the children. "The villagers were worried sick! What would happen to their crops, their produce, their livelihood? If only a hero would come along and save them!" He makes an overly exaggerated wail before gasping.

"Well, who do we have here? A warrior has come to save the villagers!" The young man points at your direction and you feel your blood run cold as all the children in the room had turned their attention towards you, hopeful.

"A young maiden has arrived to slay the evil dragon!"

You quickly shake your head at his statement, holding your arms out in a cross. "No, kids. Don't believe what this man says. I am not a warrior, and I'm certainly not here to slay any dragons"

The young man raises a brow, getting up from his spot. "Then why do you have the magical sword that was forged to slay the mighty dragon?"

"What sword?"

The young man snaps his fingers. "That sword."

The weight on your hips dip on one side and you couldn't believe your eyes as a sheathed sword had magically manifested beside your waist out of thin air. "How did you— wait, is this a real sword?! You can't play around with real swords in front of children!"

The children turn towards the young man in confusion.

"Well, kids. Do you want the kind lady to slay the dragon with a real sword?"

"YES!" The children cheered.

The young man turns to you with a smile. "You gotta give the kids what they want, Miss."

An exasperated expression makes its way to your face. "I am not slaying any made up dragons!"

"Now, what's all this talk about slaying dragons?"

Taehyun, one of the stricter librarians, had come out of nowhere, surprising everyone. His eyes scan the room and quickly notices three things: (1) the dangerous sword hanging on your waist, (2) the excessive amount of children in the room when the sign on the way in definitely mentioned a capacity of only five, and (3) someone let the mage boy inside the library again. The culprit was evident.

"Jung Kai, I swear to the heavens I will—"

"Alright kids, time to go! We'll end the story next time!" The young man, Kai, rushes the disappointed children out of the section before they heard something they shouldn't.

You were about to walk away yourself but was quickly stopped by Taehyun's hand blocking your path. "Kai, didn't I tell you that you're not allowed to perform magic inside the library? And seriously," He confiscates the sword on your waist, holding it up in the air. "Violence?"

Kai looks at you and grins. "I suppose we could've gone with a more romantic ending. Something like the warrior's kiss saving the dragon from his curse, and he turns back into this super handsome, super cute, and super macho mage."

The way he shamelessly described himself left you speechless, and you steal a glance at the librarian who looked as equally disgusted as you are.

"Just clean up the mess before you leave. And that means you too, Miss Dragon Slayer."

"But I didn't even—" You cut yourself off after Taehyun dismisses himself from the room.

The section falls silent and Kai walks up to you, a smile ever present in his face. "I'm guessing this is the start of our new friendship?"

And that was what started it all. Everytime you'd visit the library after that, you seemed to bump into Kai more often than you liked. He saw through the disguise the first time he saw you wearing it and had promised to not utter a single word to anyone. The mage boy was much more reliable than he seemed to be, often helping you in your studies and teaching you more than the books ever could. Sometimes, he'd convince you to take a stroll around town and had shown you sights and wonders you wouldn't have expected to see inside the kingdom.

Before you knew it, Kai had become someone you'd cherished, and someone whose company you genuinely appreciated. He was patient and understanding as your makeshift mentor, and was this fun and outgoing guy whenever you two were out together. Kai became the first friend you'd made on your own regardless of status and the only friend you wished to keep by your side.

"I take it that the people in the ballroom were too much?" Kai speaks the moment arrived at the garden.

"Please. I couldn't even breathe in there." You play it off with a chuckle but thoughts of worry still plague your mind. "I'm guessing you probably know by now."

"About what? The fact that you're the daughter of the Marquess or that the Marquess has been in a crisis for a while?"

"Both."

Kai reaches for your hand, holding it reassuringly. "I've known for a while but that doesn't change anything now, does it? We became friends without the burden of our status, and we'll stay as friends regardless."

You hated this, hated how he always knew exactly what to say. The heat rushes up to your face and you squeeze his hand tighter, avoiding eye contact. "Thank you."

But truthfully, there was a little voice in Kai's head that wished you could be something more. Not after you'd shared those intimate moments alone at the library at dusk, not after he rushed in to catch you in his arms when you fell while shelving a book on the top shelves, and especially not after you almost shared a kiss after saying goodbye that night he'd helped you sneak back in.

Even now, as he lovingly gazed at your silhouette beneath the moonlight, he'd hoped that he'd have the chance to tell you how he felt. But then again, the chance could be right now at this very moment. The two of you were, afterall, at the king's ball.

"So, how were the gentlemen earlier?"

"What?" You raise your head to face Kai.

"I've no doubt that hundreds of people had been lining up to dance with you all evening." Kai grins as he gently lets go of your hand.

"Please, I haven't danced at all tonight."

"I find that quite hard to believe."

You sigh, recalling the events from earlier. "No one would want to be seen dancing with a fallen Marquess' daughter now would they?"

"Not when you look this beautiful?" Kai jokingly walks around you and you shy away from his gaze.

"You know I never say things I don't mean, Y/N." Kai bends down and holds your hands in his. "And believe me, I don't think anyone could ever be as lovely as you."

"Is flattery your main personality trait now?" You say as an attempt to not let his compliment affect you any further than it should but fail miserably so.

Kai stands before you with an unreadable expression. You'd argue this was the most serious look he's ever had since you'd met him.

"Care to dance?" Kai asks, leaning in closer, your faces merely inches apart. You feel your heart beating loudly in your chest, and you're almost afraid he might hear.

The moonlight casts a shadow on Kai's face, and despite the darkness, his eyes glistened, reflecting your own as you stared into his. You've never seen anyone look so beautiful. And here he was, telling you that you're the loveliest person he's ever known.

"Right now?"

Kai nods, taking off his mask and tossing it over to the side. "And I'd like it if we could dance without our masks too. I've been wanting to get a good look at your face all night."

You chuckle, removing your mask and tossing it to to the ground next to his. "And how do you suppose we dance without music? My reputation's already dirt at this point and I do not want to be branded as the crazy noble dancing at the royal garden in complete silence."

Kai fails to suppress his laughter, holding on to your shoulder to maintain himself upright. "Well, I wouldn't want to let my dear lady look crazy now would I?"

"And what are you planning to do?"

"Well, I am a mage." Kai smirks as he manifests a scepter out of thin air, leaving a trail of golden dust flurrying down.

This was the first time you've ever seen it in person. Kai had mentioned how he needed the aid of his scepter to perform high level magic, but he'd never taken it out in front of you until now. One look at the scepter and anyone could tell not just any old mage owned the darn thing. It looked majestic by all means, intricately decorated with gold and topped off with a brightly colored red gemstone you couldn't seem to identify. You'd heard that mages often created their own unique gemstones as a manifestation of their mana but for Kai's to be red, which had been said to be a quite powerful variant, made you wonder just how powerful your friend had been.

"And here we go." Kai takes the scepter in his hand and drives it into the ground. The impact causes a wave of light to burst from the scepter and spread throughout the reaches of garden. In a split-second, the wave of light rushes back into its source, compressing into a huge orb of light lifting up into the sky, rivaling the moon with its glow. The orb splits into smaller pieces and starts to dance around the garden, leaving you in awe at the spectacle.

Kai finds himself grinning from ear to ear at your reaction. He'd studied magic as an expression of rebellion against his father but now, he'd found another purpose to perform these little tricks of his. He places his hand on your waist and pulls you closer. "Wait for it."

The orbs of light find their places around you, slowly taking the shape of various instruments you've seen inside the ballroom, from strings to percussions, and even wind instruments. Smaller pieces of light continued to hover the surroundings, resembling glowing fireflies in the dark.

"Kai, this is beautiful." You look up at the young man, and he steps away, bowing his head as he plants yet another kiss on the back of your hand.

"May I have this dance?"

His eyes meet yours and you feel your heart skip a beat. It was rather difficult to explain. The Kai in front of you right now had been the same Kai you've always known, but somehow.. different.

You raise your hand for him to take, guiding your other hand to find perch on his shoulder, and his finding its place on your waist. With the first step, the instruments started playing. It's a piece you've heard before, one that Kai had fondly hummed nearly everytime you were together at the library.

It was as if the world had faded into the distance, and at this moment, there was only you and him, dancing alone in the garden. He pulls you close, his hold gentle and warm. Kai spins you around. The heel of your shoe collides with a rock, and you nearly stumble back until Kai manages to grab you by the waist on time, pulling you back into his arms.

You spot the smirk on his face under the moonlight, and you press a finger against his lips. "Not one word."

"I wasn't going to say anything." Kai lets you go, and you quickly grab a hold of his arms to find balance.

"Of course you weren't."

"Well, I do have something I have to tell you. A few things, actually."

You cock a brow at him, and he steps forward. "I'll tell you the most important part first."

"And that is?"

Kai reaches out to cup your cheeks, gazing into your eyes as if asking permission. You didn't need to say anything for him to understand, and he closes the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours. The feeling was foreign but certainly welcome, and you soon close your eyes and reciprocate, wanting to feel more of his soft lips, and wanting to hold him closer and closer.

For long had you held out on this, on actually acknowledging your growing feelings for the lad in fear of having to live with the thought of him not feeling the same. But in this moment, you felt a heavy burden being lifted from your shoulders.

"Kai, I.."

The light from the orbs dim down and soon dissipates. Kai pulls away, gazing upon your flushed face. "You mean the world to me, Y/N. I don't think my life would ever be the same without you."

The trumpets blare in the ballroom, a signal that the new king was to make an appearance soon. You feel Kai's hand around yours. "As for my other confession, I think it's best we head back first."

He leads you back into the ballroom, and disappears the moment you find your parents in the crowd. You join them in the center as everyone gathers to get a glimpse at the new king.

The herald makes his way beside the grand staircase, straightening himself up to make the announcement that every citizen had been waiting to hear all evening.

"Presenting the next in line to the throne, to rule the vast lands of our esteemed nation, and lead us into a continuing era of prosperity! Our future King, His Royal Highness, Kai Kamal Huening!"

The doors open, revealing Kai, your Kai, adorned in the royal family's crest, robes, and jewelries as he made himself known to his loyal subjects.

Behind him was public librarian, Kang Taehyun, who had been revealed to be serving as one oc the King's advisors, and now, for the new monarch.

"Long live the King!"

Kai could pick out your from the crowd in a heartbeat, hos gaze meeting yours as he flashes you his signature smile. You couldn't believe what was happening— Kai, your best friend in the whole world, had just confessed his love to you. And now, that same Kai had revealed to you and to the public that he had been the future ruler of the country all along. The crowds cheered.

"Long live the King!"

"Long live the King." You whisper to yourself, wondering what the future has in store for you.

#txt #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt fic #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai imagines #huening kai x reader #huening kai imagines #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai fluff #.reqs

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sweetandsourstalker · 2 years

Note

"That's good," he murmurs back. It makes him glad to hear that they're handling things relatively well. Relatively being the key word. Maybe he's projecting his own anxieties after the whole forgetting-he-exists thing, which he's still not entirely over, but doesn't exactly have the time to process now. Yen is showering him with the sort of affection they usually drip feed him, and it's turning him into absolute mush. "Please do." If they kissed him like that right now his chest might burst from it. Instead of giving themself the chance to do so though, words continue to tumblr from their mouth, so he listens. And boy, does he like what he hears. A huge grin splits his face as they realize what they've just told him. His own cheeks are pink from the slipped admission, but he's got nothing on them. He's not sure he's ever seen them quite so red before, and they've blushed for him plenty. And holy fuck, that sound they made! Mind the teeth, indeed- they're making him want to eat them up. They did ask him to pretend, though... and he's capable of mercy, or at least attempting it. Peter swallows his smile, teeth pricking at the inside of his lip to keep the best straight face he can pull under the circumstance. Somehow, he doubts it's very convincing, but it's the thought that counts? "Didn't hear what? I'm not sure what you're talking about."

This was awful. Mortifying, even. Maybe this was because they'd forgotten, somehow? Now all of the feelings they'd had lost were coming out all at once? There was some logic to that theory but unfortunately Yen was not in any position to entertain theories. Not when they'd gotten their sweetheart to blush and smile like that, forcing them to clamp down harder on their own mouth to keep from saying anything more. It still didn't stop the sound, but it hid it. Mostly.

At least, until he reigns it in and fakes neutrality, and they feel a laugh bubbling up in their chest. Yen leaned forward with their eyes squeezed shut, shaking with pent-up giggles. Between them their voice could be heard: "Fuck you, you're not allowed to be silly! Don't make fun of me! Why are you still so cute--uuuuuugh, fine, I give up!"

Yen threw their hands down from their beet red face, balling them into fists at their side, letting their half-amused, half-ashamed grin show. They closed the distance between themselves and Peter and put themselves right back against his chest, holding to the front of his vest. If they were going to keep saying things like that, then...then maybe, just while it lasted, they could be as selfish as they wanted.

They knew it wouldn't last. It probably wouldn't last. But it was kind of nice being able to finally, finally say everything they'd wanted to say, even if just this once.

"I can't even be grumpy at you. Not really. Not when you're so funny and wonderful. So I guess I'm spoiling you for a bit. D-Don't get used to it. I can't handle being so open, I'd lose my mind or my job but for now..." Yen nuzzled their cheek right against his chest, their height putting them right against the black and white heart. "God, what did I do to deserve you in my life? I had to have done something...there's no way the world is so kind as to just give you to me..."

"And I'm so, so sorry for scaring you. Being without you--fuck, forgetting you? Everything just feels so cold and empty until you're back. I can't stand it...ughI'moutofair..." Yen gasped, then, with a breathless chuckle, they tipped their head up, putting their chin against the heart logo so they could see his face. Their eyes had to be full of hearts, and their cheeks still felt as hot as the sun, but they wanted to see him. "I love you. It sounds crazy and it scares me, but I love you!"

"And I'm sorry I'm so selfish, and needy, and literally put a damn tracker on you. But I can't help it. I promised not to go anywhere, so I want to hear you say it, too..."

#this is just straight up sugar syrup))#rp #askyourboyfriend #yen & peter #Noise!Yen))#F L U F F))#this is so cute but they're also both horrible people :P))#every yandere couple can have moments of deredere))#as a treat))#magical anon answers

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hot-wiings · 4 years

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The One Where Dabi Gets Involved With Overhaul’s Girl, Part Sixteen.

Edited: 2-26-2021

"You're with child. You've got a baby growing in there. Our baby."

When Kai says the words to you, you're still in complete shock. A baby. A literal baby was growing inside you. You couldn't imagine going through the horrors of childbirth, you couldn't imagine pushing a baby through your vaginal canal. With Kai and all his health rules, no doubt that baby would come out a whole ten pounds.

Would you even be a good mother? Your own mother abandoned you and your sister with your grandfather. She callously tossed you both to the side without care all because your father died. Your mind flashes to Eri, your mind flashes to the deep maternal feelings and protectiveness you feel over Eri. No, you would be a good mother. You would be a great mother, one who protected her child no matter the circumstance.

You put your hand to your stomach, on top of the one Kai held there. You would be a great mother, and you would protect this child, your child, no matter the circumstance. That brought you back to reality. This wasn't Kai's child, this was your child. You weren't sure if this baby was even Kai's or Dabi's, but it didn't matter. You would raise this baby as your own, and you weren't going to let Kai influence or touch them. No, you were going to be long gone before this baby even came out. You, Eri, and this baby, even if it killed you to do it.

"It's going to be different now. I meant what I said, I want you to genuinely love me. I'm gonna be nicer."

Kai moves his hand up from your stomach and touches your cheek lightly, he brings his other hand up and cups your cheeks as tenderly and carefully as he can. He holds your face in his hands as if your glass, and it just makes you sick to your bones. He wasn't like this weeks ago, why would he change now? He was merciless, he beat you, he hurt you, why would he suddenly change now?

"I'm gonna be nicer, gentler."

I can't believe you. I can't believe you'd change like that. Not so suddenly, not so quickly.

"It'll be so different. I won't let you be hurt, I won't hurt you. I'm gonna make it so you're nice and safe from everything."

I can't believe you. I can't believe you'd change like that, now when I've got this baby inside me.

"We're having a baby."

You have to force the words out of your mouth. It takes everything in you to smile at him. Putting your hands on Kai's hands that cup your cheeks takes every bit and every ounce of strength in your body. You have to make him believe you. You have to convince him.

"We're gonna be parents."

"You're gonna be such a great mother."

"You're gonna be a great dad."

You feel nauseated saying it, but you say it so convincingly, so utterly slick and lovingly he must have bought it. Kai withdrawals his hands from your cheeks and turns around with a small smile on his face as he rummages through the medical equipment.

"We should do an ultrasound to determine the due date. I already know when the due date will be, but I just want to make sure the baby growth will be on track."

Your stomach churned at his words. You knew there was no possible way he would know whether or not Dabi was the real father, let alone that there was another father in question. You had slept with Dabi within a week of sleeping with Kai, the time frame between them both was too short, and the due date wouldn't look suspicious. While the thought of that floating in your head made you anxious, that wasn't why your stomach was churning. Just the idea of having an ultrasound, the idea of letting Kai think he could be in this baby's life, letting him think you were creating a happy family with him, filled you with guilt.

He hurt you, you shouldn't feel such guilt. He hurt you physically, seeking the comfort in another and cheating wasn't nearly as bad as what he did. Yet, seeing him with such a smile, excited at the prospect of having a child with you, filled you with sorrow. Seeing him tell you how things were going to be different, promises you weren't sure he'd keep, promises he'd change, filled you with such sorrow and guilt.

Kai took a machine and wheeled it over to you. It was tall with an old boxy-looking computer screen on top of it. It had a thick cord running out of it, and that cord was attached to a circle remote-like nozzle, a remote control wand.

"This is a sonogram machine. I'll put this gel on your stomach, then I'll roll the transducer over it. It'll pop your ultrasound up on the monitor."

"Okay."

Despite your nervousness and churning stomach, you didn't show what you were feeling. The stakes were too high now. You had to convince Kai how submissive you were, you had to show him that you loved him devotedly. Showing no hesitance, you pulled your shirt up to your bra line, giving Kai complete access to your stomach with a smile on your face.

Your lack of hesitance only seemed to put more glee in Kai's body. With his lips tipped in an upward position, Kai pulled a new clean pair of medical gloves on and grabbed an alcohol wipe. He ripped it open and carefully swiped it across your stomach, with such precision and careful immaculation. He treated your stomach with such fragility, as if had he touched too hard you might break open into two. After he trashed the wipe he grabbed the gel bottle off of the sonogram machine.

"This is gonna be cold, don't get scared or startled, alright? Having an accelerated heart rate is bad for our baby."

"Okay."

He took the cap of the gel bottle and squirted the gel over your stomach in a back and forth motion. He put the cap back on the bottle and placed it on the edge of the sonogram machine before he grabbed the circle wand-like remote. He moved the tip of it across your stomach in a circle, spiral motion.

You both looked over at the machine as Kai moved the wand around. It looked like a regular ultrasound, you had seen one when your mother was pregnant with Eri. Rather than a white baby being inside the black circle which was your womb, it was a tiny white dot the size of a bean. You knew that you wouldn't see a whole baby until later, around the twenty-second-week mark of your pregnancy, but even seeing the tiny bean was surreal.

"She, he- They're so small."

"Mm, our precious little peanut. We won't be able to do another ultrasound until around your second trimester. Doing too many ultrasounds can mess with the baby, our baby."

"Can we print some pictures, I wanna keep some. You know, so we can give some to my grandfather once you restore him back to good health, and our child will be able to look at it them once they're older."

Your words come out so convincing, cunningly convincing. You weren't even sure if Kai was ever going to restore your grandfather to good health, not when it allowed him to run around leading the Yakuza. The lie is a perfect coverup for the real reason you wanted pictures, so Dabi could have one. He deserved to have the sonogram of his possible future child.

"Of course, we'll have a bunch printed out. I'll have to get some pregnancy books for you. Now that you're carrying you'll have to change your diet and we'll need to put restrictions on when you're awake and what you do. It's important you get a moderate amount of sleep and exercise."

Kai took his gloves off and discarded them before he placed them upon your face. He cupped your cheeks just as delicately as he had handled your stomach, with such careful touches. He lightly pressed his lips onto yours and slid one hand down to your right hand as he pulled away. He pressed a quick kiss against your knuckles before dropping your hand. Kai grabbed a towel to his left and used it to clean the gel off your stomach, then he discarded the towel and grabbed your hand again with the fondest of smiles rested on his face.

"You'll marry me, won't you? I want our baby raised right, both parents in a loving marriage."

You had a feeling that regardless of your opinion and answer, you'd end up with his ring on your hand. Willingly or not. You muster up the best smile you can and give his hand a tight squeeze.

"Yes. We're gonna be such good parents."

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nealiios · 3 years

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The Supernatural 70s: Part I - Corruption of An Innocent

"We're mutants. There's something wrong with us, something very, very wrong with us. Something seriously wrong with us - we're soldiers writers."

-- with apologies to the screenwriter of "Stripes"

Dear reader, I have the darkest of revelations to make to you, a truth when fully and wholly disclosed shall most assuredly chill you to the bone, a tale that shall make you question all that you hold to be true and good and holy about my personal history. While you may have come in search of that narrative designer best known for his works of interactive high fantasy, you should know that he is also a crafter of a darker art, a scribbler of twisted tales filled with ghosts, and ghouls, and gargoyles. I am, dear innocent, a devotee of horrors! Mwahahahaha!

[cue thunderclap, lightning, pipe organ music]

Given the genre of writing for which most of you know me, I forgive you if you think of me principally as a fantasy writer. I don't object to that classification because I do enjoy mucking about with magic and dark woods and mysterious ancient civilizations. But if you are to truly know who I am as a writer, you must realize that the image I hold of myself is principally as a creator of weird tales.

To understand how and why I came to be drawn to this sub-genre of fantastic fiction, you first must understand that I come from peculiar folks. Maybe I don't have the Ipswich look, or I didn't grow up in a castle, but my pedigree for oddity has been there from the start. My mother was declared dead at birth by her doctor, and often heard voices calling to her in the dead of night that no one else could hear. Her mother would periodically ring us up to discuss events in our lives about which she couldn't possibly have known. My father's people still share ghost stories about a family homestead that burned down mysteriously in the 1960s. Even my older brother has outré memories about events he says cannot possibly be true, and as a kid was kicked off the Tulsa city bookmobile for attempting to check out books about UFOs, bigfoot, and ESP. It's fair to say I was doomed - or destined - for weirdness from the start.

If the above listed circumstances had not been enough, I grew up in an area where neighbors whispered stories about a horrifically deformed Bulldog Man who stalked kids who "parked" on the Old North Road near my house. The state in which I was raised was rife with legends of bigfoots, deer women, and devil men. Even in my childhood household there existed a pantheon of mythological entities invented explicitly to keep me in line. If I was a good boy, The Repairman would leave me little gifts of Hot Wheels cars or candy. If I was being terrible, however, my father would dress in a skeleton costume, rise from the basement and threaten to drag me down into everlasting hellfire (evidently there was a secret portal in our basement.) There were monsters, monsters EVERYWHERE I looked in my childhood world. Given that I was told as a fledgling writer to write what I knew, how could anyone have been surprised that the first stories I wrote were filled with the supernatural?

"The Nightmare" by John Henry Fuseli (1781)

My formative years during the late sixties and early seventies took place at a strange juncture in our American cultural history. At the same time that we were loudly proclaiming the supremacy of scientific thought because we'd landed men on the moon, we were also in the midst of a counter cultural explosion of interest in astrology, witchcraft, ghosts, extra sensory perception, and flying saucers. Occult-related books were flying off the shelves as sales surged by more than 100% between 1966 and 1969. Cultural historians would come to refer to this is as the "occult boom," and its aftershocks would impact popular cultural for decades to come.

My first contact with tales of the supernatural were innocuous, largely sanitized for consumption by children. I vividly remember watching Casper the Friendly Ghost and the Disney version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I read to shreds numerous copies of both Where the Wild Things Are and Gus the Ghost. Likely the most important exposure for me was to the original Scooby Doo, Where Are You? cartoon which attempted to inoculate us from our fears of ghosts and aliens by convincing us that ultimately the monster was always just a bad man in a mask. (It's fascinating to me that modern incarnations of Scooby Doo seem to have completely lost this point and instead make all the monsters real.)

ABOVE: Although the original cartoon Scooby Doo, Where Are You? ran only for one season from 1969 to 1970, it remained in heavy reruns and syndication for decades. It is notable for having been a program that perfectly embodied the conflict between reason and superstition in popular culture, and was originally intended to provide children with critical thinking skills so they would reject the idea of monsters, ghosts, and the like. Ironically, modern takes on Scooby Doo have almost entirely subverted this idea and usually present the culprits of their mysteries as real monsters.

During that same time, television also introduced me to my first onscreen crush in the form of the beautiful and charming Samantha Stevens, a witch who struggles to not to use her powers while married to a frequently intolerant mortal advertising executive in Bewitched. The Munsters and The Addams Family gave me my first taste for "goth" living even before it would become all the rage in the dance clubs of the 1980s. Late night movies on TV would bring all the important horror classics of the past in my living room as Dracula, Frankenstein, the Wolf Man, the Invisible Man, the Phantom of the Opera, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Godzilla all became childhood friends. Over time the darkened castles, creaking doors, foggy graveyards, howling wolves, and ever present witches and vampires became so engrained in my psyche that today they remain the "comfort viewing" to which I retreat when I'm sick or in need of other distractions from modern life.

ABOVE: Elizabeth Montgomery starred in Bewitched (1964 - 1972) as Samantha Stephens, a witch who married "mortal" advertising executive Darren Stephens (played for the first five seasons by actor Dick York). Inspired by movies like I Married a Witch (1942) and Bell, Book and Candle (1958), it was a long running series that explored the complex relationship dynamics between those who possess magic and those who don't. Social commentators have referred to it as an allegory both for mixed marriages and also about the challenges faced by minorities, homosexuals, cultural deviants, or generally creative folks in a non heterogeneous community. It was also one of the first American television programs to portray witches not as worshippers of Satan, but simply as a group of people ostracized for their culture and their supernatural skills.

Even before I began elementary school, there was one piece of must-see gothic horror programming that I went out of my way to catch every day. Dark Shadows aired at 3:30 p.m. on our local ABC affiliate in Tulsa, Oklahoma which usually allowed me to catch most of it if I ran home from school (or even more if my mom or brother picked me up.) In theory it was a soap opera, but the show featured a regular parade of supernatural characters and themes. The lead was a 175 year old vampire named Barnabas Collins (played by Johnathan Frid), and the show revolved around his timeless pursuit of his lost love, Josette. It was also a program that regularly dealt with reincarnation, precognition, werewolves, time travel, witchcraft, and other occult themes. Though it regularly provoked criticism from religious groups about its content, it ran from June of 1966 until it's final cancellation in April of 1971. (I would discover it in the early 1970s as it ran in syndication.) Dark Shadows would spin off two feature-length movies based on the original, a series of tie-in novels, an excellent reboot series in 1991 (starring Ben Cross as Barnabas), and a positively embarrassingly awful movie directed by Tim Burton in 1991.

ABOVE: Johnathan Frid starred as Barnabas Collins, one of the leading characters of the original Dark Shadows television series. The influence of the series cannot be understated. In many ways Dark Shadows paved the way for the inclusion of supernatural elements in other soap operas of the 1970s and the 1980s, and was largely responsible for the explosion of romance novels featuring supernatural themes over the same time period.

While Dark Shadows was a favorite early television program for me, another show would prove not only to be a borderline obsession, but also a major influence on my career as a storyteller. Night Gallery (1969-1973) was a weekly anthology television show from Rod Serling, better known as the creator and host of the original Twilight Zone. Like Twilight Zone before it, Night Gallery was a deep and complex commentary on the human condition, but unlike its predecessor the outcomes for the characters almost always skewed towards the horrific and the truly outré. In "The Painted Mirror," an antiques dealer uses a magic painting to trap an enemy in the prehistoric past. Jack Cassidy plots to use astral projection to kill his romantic rival in "The Last Laurel" but accidentally ends up killing himself. In "Eyes" a young Stephen Spielberg directs Joan Crawford in a story about an entitled rich woman who plots to take the sight of a poor man. Week after week it delivered some of the best-written horror television of the early 1970s.

In retrospect I find it surprising that I was allowed to watch Night Gallery at all. I was very young while it was airing, and some of the content was dark and often quite shocking for its time. Nevertheless, I was so attached to the show that I'd throw a literal temper tantrum if I missed a single, solitary episode. If our family needed to go somewhere on an evening that Night Gallery was scheduled, either my parents would either have to wait until after it had aired before we left, or they'd make arrangements in advance with whomever we were visiting to make sure it was okay that I could watch Night Gallery there. I was, in a word, a fanatic.

ABOVE: Every segment of Night Gallery was introduced by series creator Rod Serling standing before a painting created explicitly for the series. Director Guillermo del Toro credits Serling's series as being the most important and influential show on his own work, even more so than the more famous Twilight Zone.

#horror #70s #occult #supernatural #television #writing

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xxkellsvixen19xx · 4 years

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Merry-Go-Round Colson Baker X Reader

A/N: wrote this fic in 2019 with a different character revised it using Colson of course also changed up original title it was Addicted. Note there is drug use, overdose and death involved so this could be triggering for some. Might want to have tissues handy cause it's sad folks!

Warnings: drug use, overdose, death & smut

Word Count: 3,248

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐲

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝...

Y/N looked on in mute horror. Horror was something she had not felt before in her life. There he was, almost catatonic, a look of aloof disinterest on his otherwise flawless and beautiful face. In his left hand a small bottle was loosely clutched, open, contents scattered upon the ground below. His hair was dishevelled, his upper body unclothed, a trail of saliva dripping from his slightly-parted mouth onto his chest. His unblinking gaze stared at something beyond focus, something only he was seeing.

What what happened? She asked in a cautious whisper. She gently plucked the small bottle out of his hand, realising he had overdosed. Purposely overdosed. What could have happened to drive Colson to such reckless, illogical behaviour? What drove this normally calm and deliberate person to such an abrupt, impromptu act? What demanded such drastic and permanent release?

It was too late. She knew it was too late. Not knowing what to do for such circumstances normally, Y/N only looked on helplessly, slowly crouching down by his side. She tentatively reached out and touched his bare shoulder.

Cold both her fingertips and his skin. The two of them were both abnormally cool-blooded, he had penetrating and yet distant blue eyes, tattooed skin and fine features. And yet he was colder than was normal for the two of them.He gave her no response, didn’t register her presence.

Taking a firmer grip, she shook him gently, knowing he wouldn’t respond. He lost the balance from his precarious position, haphazardly propped against a fallen chair. His right arm, previously draped across a side of the chair, smacked the ground with a sickeningly final thud. She caught his head against her chest, his head lolling down and to the side as if he wanted to suck on her breast. He was heavier than she remembered. She couldn’t think of why this could be.

She cradled him, rocking back and forth slightly. A tightness grew in her stomach and throat, a cold shiver ran down her spine. Her breath was suddenly shaky and her mouth grew dry. A tear froze as it formed at the corner of her eye, falling and shattering upon impacting against the colder-still floor. “Colson… please please wake up,” she stated desperately.

She closed her mind thinking back to the first time they had met, both of them were junkies it seemed to be one of the few things that kept them together asides from the sex. They may have had a toxic relationship but like a moth to a flame she was drawn to him and she kept coming back for more.

2 years ago...

‘I need it so badly, and I need to see him, be near him.’

I want to find another dealer, but I can't bring myself to look. I just keep coming back.

I love him. I don't know if he knows it, but I do. With all of my heart.

I took my first fix to impress him. I don'tt care that I’m an addict; it gives me an excuse to see him.

And I do see him. Almost every day.

I let myself fall into the delusion that he loved me too, at first. When we met, in a bar, he gave me some crack. I liked it, of course, and he told me where I could see him and get more.

At first he just scared me, but gradually I started to look forward to going to see him to see him, as well as to get my fix.

I was a virgin. One night I gave that to him, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. But when I woke up the next morning, he handed me about three weeks worth and told me I’d earned it all. I slapped him, but he just laughed and said he’d see me soon.

I held off the stuff for about a week, and then I couldn't do it anymore. It was even better than it had been the first time around.

When I ran out I went back to him, same as I always had before, with my money in my backpack.

He smirked, and told me I didn't need to give him any money, looking my body over knowingly. I was so tempted to do it. “Are you brave Y/N?” He asked me not taking his eyes off of mine. I looked at him nervously “why do you ask?” My stomach was tied in knots an excited feeling rushed through my veins.

“You want some of this?" He held up the small baggie to my eyes, which contained a fairly sized black hunk of something. I didn't have to ask him to know what it was.He had the sexiest face when he was offering you drugs, a straight, poker face, with a little smirk that just screamed "Come on, you know you want to,". I chewed at my bottom lip contemplating it for a moment. "Come on, it's the greatest feeling ever. I'll shoot it for you and everything, I guarantee you won't be able to move for the next hour, I swear. It's the best, no lie." Colson urged me.

I hesitated slightly, my heart thundering against my ribs. Everything in my brain was screaming 'NO! You idiot! Remember health class?' "Awh hell, off to the races!" I said, laughing, and instantly feeling a rush of anxiety. Colson laughed, "Yeah, you want this," and then he pulled out a spoon from his pocket, breaking off a chunk of the black tar heroin and setting it in the spoon to melt it down. He was always so cocky, but it suited his personality.

My stomach was starting to feel funny from all the adrenaline pumping though my body as he patiently turned the black mass into a liquid; I hadn't felt this antsy since the last time we were tweaking out on shards. I couldn't believe I was about to do this; one hit and I could be addicted.

𝙎𝙤 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚

𝙉𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩

𝙉𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙬𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩

Before I knew it, Colson had taken a hold of my left wrist and was holding my arm out straight, tapping against the main vein in my elbow until it was raised and throbbing.

"You're gonna want to look away for this," he said, as he held up a small syringe he'd filled with the drug. "This is gonna be like nothing you've ever felt before."

I smiled, and said "Hell yes," before I looked up into his eyes. He met my gaze, his blue eyes distracting me from where the needle was going. I felt the pinch, and winced slightly.

“You're ok, you will be ok Y/N," he said, he smiled, still staring into my eyes. "Eyes right here."

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 “𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲?”

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 “𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲?!”

I stared back, smiled, and felt the needle being withdrawn from my arm. I exhaled slowly, wondering when it was supposed to take effect--

The rush of euphoria you get from shooting up heroin is unlike anything else. You could be going through horrible withdrawals, but after you see that red cloud of blood erupt in the syringe, you’ll feel like you're on top of the world in seconds. You feel weightless, and warm, and safe.

“How you feeling Y/N?" Colson asked, getting down to my level to look me in the eye, his smirk setting my nerve endings on fire. ‘fuck why is it that his smirk damn near destroys me?’ I thought to myself. I tried to speak, but my mouth wasn't working with my brain...or, my brain wasn't working with my mouth. Actually, I don't think my brain was working at this point at all, it was all just too slow. Even my tongue felt heavy.

It seemed like a long time passed, I heard Colson opening up the small baggie once again, heard the lighter click to life, closed my eyes and felt my breathing, watching the colors dance past my eyes as I heard him hiss from the needle, heard the THUMP as he hit the floor.

A few moments had passed then I saw Colson get up from the floor, and plop down onto the end of the bed, smiling and looking down at me. I looked back up at him, and in my mind a vague feeling was starting to swim around, to spark to roaring life amidst the haze that I was feeling everywhere else.

“You feelin' good?" He asked, tilting his head and grinning at me in the way he always did after witnessing me getting fucked up in some way or another. A grin that said, 'Now that's what I'm talking about', before always asking the same question; You feeling good?

I tried to wrap my mind around how I was feeling, to grasp at how hot it was starting to feel between my legs, how when I arched my back upward I wanted something to be there, to be in the space between my legs, in the heat and the wet, to fill me up, make me moan.

And without really meaning to, I did moan. I let out a low, hungry growl, closing my eyes and allowing my head to fall backward.

Colson chuckled, a low, almost animalistic sound. “Y/N...you want to fuck don't you?" I didn't respond, merely laid there, eyes still closed, feeling my head fall to the side, my nose against my right bicep. It was so hot, I could hear myself panting, feel it in my breasts as they rose and fell with my breath.

"Yeeeeeaaaaahh, you wanna fuck," I heard Colson say, his words long and drawn out. "You're so horny right now it's driving you out of your Goddamn mind, isn't it?"

I heard myself moan again, still unable to think my way out of the warm cloud that had settled over my body. All I knew was that I wanted a dick, a hard, long, thick dick, shoved into my pussy, and I wanted it now. I gave a small growl of frustration, arching my back upward again.

Colson takes hold of my wrist all of a sudden, forcing me to still. Then he lowers my arm, meeting my stare in the dimness of lamplight shining from a table. “You look like you have somethin’ you wanna say, Miss Y/N.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Do I?” “Yeah. Do you?” “I – I.” I was unable to formulate a complete sentence. God he’s beautiful. I’m mesmerized. Enthralled. Captivated. Whatever this emotion of want is.

His blonde hair dusts across his forehead. Glazed in a sheen of sweat.“Oh…” I’m at a loss for words, so awestruck. He begins undressing himself,His hands are on his belt, undoing the buckle. His trousers sag some, slipping down his waist.I close the distance between us, pushing aside his trembling hands to use mine. I undo his belt then unfasten the button of his trousers, letting them fall around his ankles.

Colson looks at me he holds my face in his big, calloused hands. “You can’t be real.” “No?” “No. You have to just be some illusion I’ve thought of. You’ll disappear soon.” “I don’t think I’m leaving, Colson,” I confess, voice breathless. His touch is like fire, letting me feel that more than I desire.

I flush with heat, taking in the truth that he’s naked now. Naked. In front of me.“You wanna join, darlin’?” “J – Join?” He gently traces his fingertips across my arm I can't help but shiver “yeah you look cold guess even angels need warmth, huh?” he narrowed his gaze on me, he stretches out an arm to grab my wrist. He pulls me into him, sitting up to hold me in his strong arms. Heat blooms all over my skin as he embraces me from behind, sensations I had thought I lost or maybe never realized I had.

He makes it seem like I have nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to do but relent, to surrender and release the tension I’ve been holding in. His breath warms my ear, tousling strands of hair. He moves closer, pinning me to the wall. I hold in all the breath I can as his scent overwhelms me, musk and oil and smoke. He has one arm over my head, bracing his position over me. His other hand rests near my abdomen, hovering over his shirt that I have on. His blue gaze doesn’t leave mine. “Can I touch you?” I blink, dark lashes fanning out tears. “I – I’ve never been touched like this.” “Never?” “No.” 'sure we had had sex before but this moment seemed different electrified. This was the first time he even really touched me at least like this… so soft, so sensual.

“You – You don’t have to.” I managed to stutter out awkwardly. “I can. You look like you want me to. You have for a while. It doesn’t have to be more than this, and I don’t mind doin’ it for you.” His touch is like fire, as before. That tingling that I hunger for. The licks of heat over my skin sets my nerve endings on fire. His rough fingers slither over my slit, forcing me to let out a muffled noise as I shudder. “Want me to stop?” “No. No. More… do more.”

He pushes closer, leaving no space amid us. His teeth sink into my throat, biting sensitive areas I didn’t know I wanted to be bitten. I arch my back, bending a little as he presses a knee between my thighs.He rubs, for a few minutes. Stroking. Caressing.He nibbles my neck, the muscle that runs down to my shoulder. His shirt falls off of me some, slipping off the shoulder his mouth is on. I rest my palms on his tatooed chest, nails scratching over his skin. He hisses then sucks beneath my ear, licking his tongue back and forth. “Oh, Colson,” I moan my breath becoming more rapid making me almost dizzy.

He parts me with his fingers, rubbing the warm slick that’s dripping out of me. “God, Y/N. You moan like an angel.” He pushes one thick digit into me, then another. Stretching me, he thrusts in and out at a slow pace. I fall into a haze of bliss, drowned in the blazing sensations that wash over me. I move my hips in time with his hand, finding a tempo with him. A blinding crescendo rises and rises. Hotter. Brighter. ”I’m so close, so close –” Then the flat of his thumb circles over my clit and I scream, coming undone.

This was an all new heightened sensation, and throughout our relationship it seemed the more we experimented with different drugs the more the sexual connection we had seemed to get more and more intense. Hell we were just as addicted to the sex as much as the drugs. To be honest I think we tried just about everything, Crystal meth, shrooms, coke, mollies you name it then most likely we had tried it. But it seemed like nothing was enough, another fix needed to keep the euphoric rush going. Each time more and more it seemed like he needed, like a junkie he couldn't seem to get enough. But it seemed heroin was always his vice, his ultimate fix of choice.

Being on heroin is akin to being in a toxic relationship. You start off knowing you're playing with fire, but you tell yourself it’ll be casual and you have more will power than to let yourself fall into addiction. Unfortunately, the pull of heroin is stronger than you, and by the time you realize you’ve lost control, you already lost it a long time ago. This kind of end was not for the likes of him. In one long continuous movement she eased him to the ground, laying him on his back and lovingly straddled him. She had one hand pressed against his cold chest, the other gripping the handle of the blade. Her hand wavered a little as it hovered above his chest. She glanced away, eyes a little misted by tears that were unaccustomed to forming, and thus shy of coming out.

Die by the blade, she whispered barely audibly. He never was much of a fighter she was the warrior of unparalleled potential of the two of them and yet she believed, she knew, that he wouldn't want it any other way either.

With one efficient movement, she plunged the blade neatly into his heart. She opened her eyes with a start, sharply glancing down at him as she felt a tensing beneath her and the slightest of hitched gasps. His eyes, free of the madness, clear of the haze, looked back at her with such a whirlpool of emotions and questions she nearly choked on a gasp of her own. She felt a new horror. A new kind of chill. She couldn't find her voice, and wouldn't have known what to say anyway. She looked back into his eyes, silently pleading.

“Colson Baker?”

Questioning turned to acceptant understanding, forgiveness, and finally to a slightly guilty apology. The corner of his lips twitched into the briefest of smiles, as if trying to reassure her that everything would be fine.

“L-love,you.”

His eyes glazed over again. This time he wouldn’t be waking up for her again. The crimson trickled over his skin and stained her sleeves and her skirts. Never had she made such a costly error of judgement.

𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫

Colson Baker died of an overdose. A plaque in his memory was put up, reading, “There is no substitute” Unfortunately for music fans, as well as the family and friends of the victims, too many singers have died before their time either directly or indirectly because of drug use and abuse.

Colson Baker

The raspy deep voiced rocker died at the age of 30, from a heroin overdose. Born Richard Colson Baker, but known as “Kells” to his friends and family, He is famous for some of the hit singles such as “Bloody Valentine,”My Ex's Bestfriend” “Forget Me Too,” “Concert For Aliens,” and his personal favorite, “Jawbreaker.” In 2020, Rolling Stone magazine ranked him #46 on their list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time.

#machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #fan fiction

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oikawa-tuwu · 4 years

Text

Linen Closet (gn!Reader x Kiyoko)

Rated G, 1.3k words

Not Home for the Holidays Masterlist

“Are you... crying in a linen closet?”

When you’re a child, crying is a catharsis. Stub your toe, cry a little, get up and keep playing. Pain, physical or emotional, was temporary, and tears were as good of a placebo painkiller as it got. It used to feel so good to cry. Children aren't exactly eloquent creatures when it comes to emotions or injuries, so when worst comes to worst… cry about it and keep going.

Eventually, crying becomes less of a catharsis and more of a guilty pleasure, except with less of the pleasure and more of the guilt. It might feel good in the moment, but, god forbid, you accidentally burden anyone else with your troubles, because, frankly, that would just be embarrassing for both parties, so crying is left for quiet nights in your cold bed or sniffles held back by a thread on your way home or, in this case, frustrated explosions of emotion in the linen closet of your bed and breakfast.

But we all grow up eventually.

Another shudder wracks your chest, a sob letting loose before you can clamp your mouth shut. You know, from unfortunate experience, just how thin the walls of this old house really are, and the last thing you want is for Maria, your employee, changing sheets next door, to decide to investigate those weird noises.

You try to take a calming breath. In. Out. In. Out.

It's not so much breathing as it is wheezing, but it's getting oxygen in your lungs, so who are you to complain?

And then you think about it again.

It. Whatever the hell it is. Money problems, relationship problems, mental health problems, all of the above problems piling on top of each other like a snowstorm until the front door won’t open-

Another whimper, about ten decibels louder than ideal, and you hold your breath and you hear footsteps. Pass, please. Pass this door and move on. Nothing interesting here.

The door opens.

For a second, all you see is a silhouette. About average height, skinny and lithe, like a runner, with dark hair. And then the light adjusts, and you see her face. She’s beautiful, no doubt about it, and with the halo your (slight) lightheadedness from the crying session, the scene is somewhat… holy… in nature.

But she’s frowning, and the worried expression is rather upsetting to see on such a beautiful face.

The woman asks, carefully, “Are you… crying in a linen closet?”

Your mouth, apparently working faster than your brain, asks, "Are you an angel?"

Silence. Well, mostly silence, because your brain is currently screaming.

"That was a weird thing to say. Sorry."

Thankfully, the woman laughs. She laughs, and you melt, firstly glad that she's laughing it off, but also because her laugh is melodic. "Trust me, that's not the first time I've heard that one. But... uh," she hesitates, looking you over, and you remember that five seconds you were bawling your eyes out. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you say, and brush away the last of your tears. Thankfully, seeing her was enough of a shock to stop them for now, but you have a feeling you haven't seen the last of them today. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. After all, I'm sure you didn't expect to spend your vacation dealing with an overly emotional host."

"You'd be surprised," the woman says, with a soft smile that speaks of a quiet inside joke, possibly, an inside joke for her alone. "Let's just say I've been in a somewhat similar situation before. My best friend used to have pretty bad anxiety. Actually, she's the one that checked us in yesterday, Yachi Hitoka?"

The name rings a bell. "Short, blonde, blushes a lot?"

"That's her."

Ah. You were wondering when you'd get to see the second of Yachi’s party, since she requested a room with two single beds. And here she was right in front of you. An angel on earth.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

An angel.

"No, thanks. It's sweet of you to offer, but..."

But you don't even know why you're crying. It could be any number of things. Being (relatively) alone during the holidays, stress from your job, or just plain sadness and loneliness. Missing family, missing friends, wanting hot chocolate but knowing full well you ran out a week ago and haven't restocked yet. It could be any and all of those reasons and isolating a single culprit is nearly impossible.

“It’s just a lot,” you end up saying. “The holidays. Everyone likes to talk about the good parts, the food, the celebration, the presents… that you end up forgetting the bad parts too. Until they’re staring straight at you.”

No one likes to mention that your room feels colder in the winter without someone else there to warm it. No one likes to mention that your house feels emptier without the laughter and conversation of kin. No one likes to mention the stress of throwing together a holiday dinner or coming up with the perfect gift idea or looking at your bank account and realizing you might need to rethink some things.

And there it comes again, that wave, and you blink, blink, blink, praying the tide will recede until the next time you get the chance to be alone. A cocktail of anxiety and guilt and salt slowly rising, rising, rising. This woman shouldn’t have to see you like this, you don’t even know each other, and honestly, it's a little unfair to burden one of your guests with your emotional problems and-

“You’re spiralling again, aren’t you?” The woman asks, in that soft voice of hers, and you wonder when you got so transparent that a literal stranger can tell when you’re close to breaking.

The dam cracks, and the tears start to fall again. “I’m sorry,” you manage to get out. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with this-”

Instead of saying anything, agreeing or disagreeing, the woman drops to her knees, crouching down next to where you’re sitting on the bucket. She looks up at you, her hand holding yours, and says, very softly, “Stop apologizing.”

Amazingly, you do. You close your mouth and let the tears flow, with the woman still there, offering hand squeezes and quiet company through your mental breakdown.

It’s… nicer than you expect it to be, just having someone there. She doesn’t say anything else, but you know she’s there to talk it out if you really needed to. For now, she’s willing to sit there and listen to your woes and remind you that there’s someone out there that does care when you’re struggling.

So you cry. You cry and the guilt and frustration slowly lessens and all that’s left of the broken dam is an empty reservoir.

It's… cathartic.

With her sweater sleeve, the woman wipes your cheeks dry. “Better?”

“Better,” you agree, and your mouth forms the first syllable of I’m sorry, before the woman gives you a look. “Thank you. For being here with me. I do have to say though, I would have liked meeting under different circumstances. I don’t think I look incredibly attractive mid-breakdown.”

The woman shrugs, and you see a little faint dusting of blush on her cheeks as she stands, offering a hand to help you off the bucket. “I think you might be surprised.”

You smile. You take her hand, and let her haul you to your feet.

“The name’s Kiyoko, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

“Well, Y/n,” Kiyoko says, that flush still on the tips of her cheekbones as she averts her gaze, a little self-consciously. “How about the next time you need a break, you come knock on my room door and we can go out and do something to take your mind off it?”

“I’d like that.”

Ngl, I had trouble writing this one because I wasn't sure if it would be relatable enough? But I figured of all years to talk about the worst parts of the holiday season, it was this one because oh lord do the holidays remind us that covid-19 sucks butt. Anyways, this is your reminder that you're allowed to feel sad right now. You might be separated from your friends and family or maybe you had to be laid off and money is tight, or maybe you just miss the way things used to be where we could go out and do things. Maybe the holidays just aren't for you, and the negative emotions weigh out the positive ones every year. All those feelings are valid, and take this as a sign to reach out to someone if you need to. My dms are always open if you need someone to talk to <3

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#hq #hq!! x reader #kiyoko shimizu #kiyoko x reader #hq kiyoko #not home for the holidays

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alexhogh7137 · 4 years

Text

The Battle Between Love and Fire-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Nineteen: Defamed

Chapter Eighteen

Word Count 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of rape (nothing in detail), beatings, angst

Ivar has been restless but at the same time, resting. Hvitserk has been talking strategies with his brother Ubbe, as well as his wife Torvi. He has been drinking heavily and has not slept in the last forty eight hours. Ivar on the other hand, has slept fairly well, considering the circumstances that they are all in. Hvitserk as well as Ubbe have noticed his behavior and had grown fairly aggravated with their brother.

Ubbe "What is up with Ivar hmm? Do you know what our brother's problem is?"

Hvitserk "I don't understand it Ubbe. How can he be so calm when his wife is being held captive somewhere...could be dying."

Ubbe "And carrying his child nonetheless." Hvitserk lays his head down and does not say a word. Ubbe notices and catches on very quickly and giggles to himself. "What?"

Ubbe "I knew it. I knew that Ivar could not get a woman pregnant." Hvitserk chuckles and puts his head down.

Ubbe "So I am assuming you are the father, yes?"

Hvitserk clears his throat, "Yes. Ivar is aware, Ubbe. He allowed it."

Ubbe "Wow. I am shocked. But at the same time, I am happy to hear this news. It is good news that you are going to be a father, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk "Hopefully."

Ubbe "Hey," he places his hand on his shoulder, "she's gonna make it brother. She is and so is your baby." Torvi sat there and listened.

Torvi "Have hope, Hvitserk. Never give up on hope and faith. That is all we have to get through this time."

Hvitserk "It is kind of hard when I lost her...the only woman that I have come to love since….well...she is gone and I don't know where to begin to look."

Ubbe "We sent our men to Vestfold and Rogaland-"

Hvitserk "She isn't there, Ubbe. I can't see her there."

Torvi "Where can you see her?"

Hvitserk "Wessex. That is the only place that makes sense to me. Her father tortured her numerous times in the past, endless beatings...he would take her." Ubbe looks at Torvi and sighs.

Ubbe "If we do not find her there, we will go to Wessex immediately, okay?"

Hvitserk "Fine."

…

Ivar has been absent. Just nowhere to be found. But he wanted it to be that way. He feels immense guilt and regret that he just cannot look at his brother's in the eyes without breaking down right in front of them. So there he is, sitting in the woods, waiting for news from his men that traveled to Vestfold and Rogaland. He is sitting in the grass with his black cloak on and his hood up.

"What have I done? Why did I say that? Why?" He said to himself. He looked up at the sky and screamed. Letting himself feel every emotion and grief that a man in his position should feel. Hvitserk sees his brother in the woods and watches him from afar. His hood is on and he waits for his brother's screams to stop before he joins him.

Hvitserk "Finally feeling the emotions, huh?"

Ivar "I feel like I can't breathe, Hvitserk. Ever since she left-"

Hvitserk "I know. I know."

Ivar "I feel so guilty. So responsible for her disappearance."

Hvitserk "Why do you think so harshly brother? Is there something that you aren't telling me?"

Ivar "I said something that I regret."

Hvitserk "Said what?"

Ivar "When she got mad at me, I told her that I hoped your vision would come true."

Hvitserk "You did what?!"

Ivar "I regret it. I never should have said it."

Hvitserk "You NEVER hope for bad things! The gods hear everything!"

Ivar "I know this, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk "So why did you hope for such a thing?!"

Ivar "I was angry-"

Hvitserk "WELL I HOPE THAT YOU ARE HAPPY! BECAUSE IT CAME TRUE, SHE'S GONE!"

Ivar "I'm sorry-"

Hvitserk "Do not apologize to me, apologize to your wife that is being tortured somewhere. If she comes back, if she is still alive, you owe her an apology."

Ivar "For what?"

Hvitserk "For letting it happen," he gets up, "and for not saving her when she needed you the most."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up the sound of the chain doors opening. Your father comes in with a plate of food.

Father "Eat up. You are going to need your strength today."

"What? Why?"

Father "King Harald wants to show his prize to the people of Wessex."

"I am not his prize."

Father "You are if you want your father to stay king. Now eat, I don't know when the next time I will be able to feed you."

"I can't believe that you would think that I would lie about being pregnant."

Father kneels down beside, "I do believe you. And I am happy for you. But I can't save you anymore."

"Anymore? You never did."

When you watch your father leave, you start to cry again. You fear what will happen this day. What Harald would do to you. You don't know how much more you can take. Last night, he came in four more times and had his way with you. Each time being more harsh and painful.

"Hvitserk...if you can hear me, I don't know how much longer I have. I don't know if I have weeks, days, hours or minutes but I just want you to know. I love you and our daughter loves you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hvitserk hears you loud and clear. He falls to his knees, walking back to the house. In front of his people and weeps.

"Y/n...Y/n I can hear you okay? Please stay with me. I am going to find you. I am going to save you, you are going to be okay. Just stay strong, and know that even though you can't see me, I am with you." He runs to Ubbe and tells him what he heard.

Ubbe "Did she tell you anything else? Like where she is or who has her?"

Hvitserk "N-no! She just said that she doesn't know how much time she has left. Ubbe, for the first time in years, I am afraid. So afraid."

Ubbe "Everything will be okay, dear brother. You hear her. You can feel her, yes?"

Hvitserk "Yes...but she is weak."

Ubbe "We will get to her okay? Keep your head up."

Hvitserk "Yes. I will try."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hear him and smile. You do not know if Ivar can hear you, or if he did yesterday when you called for him. Because unlike Hvitserk, Ivar did not respond. You don't know if he is worried or even cares. Since he told you before all of this happened that he wanted this to happen to you, does he really care? Does he really love you like he said he does? We will find out.

When you finish the little meal that was given to you, you wait because that is the only thing that you can do.

Harald comes in after what feels like an eternity, with a smirk on his face. "Good morning! Did you sleep well?"

"How could I? You raped me five times yesterday?!"

Harald chuckles, "Ah yes. Thank you for that by the way. I guess I should have thanked you for giving me such a prize."

"I didn't give it to you! You took it!"

Harald leans down and grabs you by the throat, slightly choking you "That is right! I took it, because I am allowed by your father to take whatever I want, when I want it. And you are what I want."

"What are you going to do when they find me, hmm?"

Harald "Who?"

"My husband, Ivar the Boneless. And his brother's."

Harald "Well I am not too worried about that. And if they do come, I will get much use out of you before then." He let's go of your throat and throws your head down onto the pavement. You wince out in pain but hold your composure. He watches you squirm to get yourself together. When he is done watching you, he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you upwards. When you feel the pain in between your legs, it takes your breath away.

Harald "Let's go see what your people will think of you when they see you now!"

….

When you walk out in front of your people, you spot your childhood friend first. She puts her hand over her mouth and starts to cry. You watch her breakdown at the sight of what happened to you, and all you can do is mouth "I'm okay, I'll be okay."

Harald "People of Wessex! This...is your princess! This is who you looked up to, idolized! And now look at her, broken and beaten."

"BY YOU!" He hits you so hard in the face that you fall to the ground. You hear the people shout out in your defense.

Harald "Do not listen to her! She is a liar, a whore! She is not the woman that you thought she was!"

"HE'S LYING! DON'T LISTE-" He kicks you while you are still down. Kicking you until you are coughing up blood. But you won't stop. You won't let this man defame you and your image. You love your people. Even if they are not yours anymore, they once were.

Harald "I have come to save this kingdom from ruin!"

Father "That is right! You have a new king now! He will rule Wessex by my side and things will be much different! Now I assure you, brighter days are ahead!"

"NOT IF YOU KILL THE PRINCESS!" Your best friend shouted.

Father "I AM NOT KILLING MY DAUGHTER! I AM SIMPLY ALLOWING KING HARALD TO TEACH HER A LESSON!"

"And what lesson is that?!" She yelled.

Father "A lesson in blasphemy against the king!"

"Father please...let me go-"

Father "SILENCE!"

Harald kneels down in front of you, using his boot to raise your chin so that you look at him "Now tell me, where are those wonderful dragon's of yours?" Your heart sinks in your chest. Not only do you have to worry about your child in your belly, but your babies back in Kattegat as well. You don't know if you could live without them. They are your entire world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours and hours go by without any news from the ships that sailed out in search for you. Your dragon's have not eaten all day. People of Kattegat are barely talking, everyone is just so silent. But their thoughts, however, are screaming. The constant thought, where are you, who has you? Hvitserk sits by the fire and prays:

"Dear Odin, please help her. Please keep her strong. Be with Y/n now. Be with her and give her the strength that she needs to survive this battle. Be with my child. Keep him or her alive. Please, I need them." He stops when he hears a creak in the floorboards behind him. He turns around and sees his brother Ivar standing there.

Hvitserk "What do you want?"

Ivar "Look, you can be mad at me all you want. That is not going to bring her back. We need to all stick together to get her back...to get through this. And afterwards, if you want to hate me you can. You have every reason to, and I do not blame you. If I was in your place, I would hate me to-"

Hvitserk gets in his brother's face, "I loved her."

Ivar "I know that you do, Hvitserk. If I didn't before, I definitely do now." Hvitserk scuffs and walks back to the fire.

Ivar "I will find her and we will get justice for her-" Ubbe comes in the room.

Ubbe "They are back!"

Hvitserk "AND?!"

Ubbe "She wasn't there. I am sorry."

Hvitserk "So can we go where she is?!"

Ivar "Wessex.."

Hvitserk "Wessex."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You lay on the ground, getting snowed on. You are too weak to stand. Your friend waits for King Harald and your father to leave your side for a moment, then runs to you.

"Y/n...Y/n?"

"...Heyyy." you force a smile and even a giggle.

"OH MY GOD!" She starts to bawl and holds you close as you both ride out your emotions.

"You can't stay here.."

"I don't care! Is there anything I can do to help?!" She asked.

"Write to Kattegat. Tell Ivar that I am being held captive and tortured...tell them I don't have long."

"Y/n.."

"Just do it for me, please."

"I-I will. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah...tell them to bring my dragon's." She smiles and kisses your cheek.

"I love you. Stay strong. Stay alive."

"Always. Oh, you are going to be an auntie!"

"W-what?!"

"I am with child. Well I was before he brought me here. I am hoping and praying to the gods that I still am."

"Y/n...congratulations."

"Thank you, beautiful. Now go before you get caught." She hurries off and you watch her leave. You look at your people who are rioting over the sight of you. You look at the chaos unraveling right before your father and King Harald. You watch with a smirk on your face. Death is not an option. It never was an option. You can't wait to see your dragon's burn these men to ashes. And only ashes will they be once your family arrives. You can only hope that that is as soon as possible.

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#the battle between love and fire #ivar the god #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk #ubbe lothbrok #torvi vikings #alex hogh andersen #marco ilsø #marco ilsoe #jordan patrick smith #vikings

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