#and dance through the chapters of life's beautiful chaos.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter seven Hiori and Miss Journalist share more than just a passionate night, opening up about their relationship and the uncertain future that lies ahead. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, suggestive nsfw masterlist

After the heated confrontation on the JFA party balcony, the two of you decided to run into the night. 

The music and laughter echoed behind as you navigated through the crowd on the dance floor, weaving past a sea of bodies. Like mischievous teenagers sneaking away, you let Hiori sweep you away, his hand clasping yours tightly as both of you shared hushed giggles on your way out. 

Your heart races, feeling the adrenaline course through your veins. But you know it’s not just from running but from the familiar excitement between you both.

A cab ride later, you arrive at Hiori’s apartment. The complex sat in a quiet neighborhood, far removed from the relentless chaos of the city. As the elevator hums upward, Hiori’s touch grows bolder. His lips find yours, his hands exploring you with an eagerness that leaves you wanting more. 

By the time you reach his door, you’re tangled in each other, his kisses fervent, his hand cradling the back of your head while he fumbles with his keys.

“Maybe we should get inside first,” you murmur between kisses, barely managing the words.

“Nah, I like it this way,” he replies with a grin against your lips, his hand sliding to the small of your back to pull you closer.

When the door finally opens, the two of you stumble inside, breaking apart only long enough for him to catch your hand. He leads you further in, fingers intertwined.

Hiori’s apartment was modest but inviting. The living room is tidy, the furniture simple. Beneath a large TV, a PS5 sat neatly in its place, its controllers perfectly arranged. Everything else spoke of practicality rather than extravagance.

You couldn’t help but think of other athletes his age, often swept up in the luxury their careers afford them. Big houses in exclusive neighborhoods. Sleek sports cars. Designer furniture. Wardrobes filled with high-end brands. Nights spent clubbing, jet-setting, and entertaining an ever-rotating cast of partners.

But Hiori’s different. Even before stepping into his home, you’ve sensed it in the way he carries himself.  And it even bleeds into his home. Simple, thoughtful choices define his home, save for the pockets of indulgence: the gaming setup and a few shelves lined with football memorabilia. 

“Make yerself at home. I’ll grab ya some water,” Hiori calls out, disappearing into the kitchen.

You wander towards the balcony, drawn by the expansive window that frames the city skyline. Sliding the glass door open, you step outside, the cool night air wrapping around you. The city stretches before you, vibrant and alive, but softened by distance. Above it all, the moon hung luminous, bathing the world in silver light.

You can’t help but pull out your phone to capture the moment. The city below felt worlds away, a far cry from the relentless energy of your own apartment (that you share with a college friend), where even behind closed doors, the unsleeping city’s energy seems to reach and breathe life into.

But here, in Hiori’s quiet home, you feel safe from the usual chaos you live in every day. 

“The moon’s real pretty tonight, don’tcha think?” Hiori’s voice breaks the quiet as he joins you on the balcony, a glass of water in hand. His gaze isn’t on the city or the moon—it’s on you.

He reaches for a stray strand of your hair, absently twisting it between his fingers.

“It is,” you reply softly, eyes on the horizon. “It’s... breathtaking.”

To him, though, it wasn’t the moon or the view that captivates him. It’s you.

The moonlight softens your features, erasing the tension he knows you carry. He never understood when books and movies talk about being completely stunned by someone’s beauty. He never did.

But somehow, you basking under the moonlight got his heart pounding, he swore it would leap out of his chest. 

In that moment, you look at peace, and he wants nothing more than to etch this image of you into his memory.

You finally face him and when you reach for the water, he smirks and pulls it away. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a sip but doesn't swallow. Instead, his free hand slides to the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

Caught off guard, you felt the cold rush of water spill into your mouth. You gulp instinctively, then gasp when he pulls back, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

“What was that?” you ask, half-laughing, half-stunned.

“Just somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to try.” he shrugs, brushing a stray droplet from your lips with his thumb.

The two of you go back inside and you finish drinking the remaining water in the glass. After placing the now-empty glass on the coffee table, Hiori catches your hand again, this time pressing soft kisses along your fingers, your palm, your wrist. Each touch grows hungrier and draws you closer to him, pulling you toward his open bedroom door.

Compared to the simple living room, Hiori’s bedroom offers a more vivid glimpse into who he is. It’s still nothing fancy but the first thing you notice is the sleek, high-end PC setup in the corner. The multi-screen rig and glowing keyboard look like something out of a tech enthusiast’s dream. You can’t help but wonder how many months of your salary you’d need to build something even half as impressive.

The soft glow from his wide-screen monitors lights up the room. Its screensaver displays a scene from a game you don’t recognize. Posters and shelves line the walls, filled with a mix of manga, books, and meticulously arranged character figures. Your gaze lingers on a strikingly detailed 2B and 9S pair. When you look closer, you spot a familiar keychain.

It’s a small 2B that matches the 9S one he gave you before you guys stopped talking to each other.

“Ya can look around,” Hiori says, his voice low and amused. He sits on the edge of his neatly made king-size bed, watching you with a mix of curiosity and an almost shy anticipation.

You wander towards his manga collection, fingers lightly brushing along the spines as you read through the titles. When you pause and open one, your eyebrows lift slightly. It’s a shoujosei title, and the mature, steamy panels on the page catch you off guard.

Hiori notices and shifts a little, a hint of nervousness creeping into his expression. He’s never felt this self-conscious before. Talking about his interests with you had always felt easy, but now, with you here in the flesh, seeing it all up close, he wonders:

Does she think it’s weird? Childish? Too much?

It’s not like he’s inexperienced. He’s dated before, even hooked up with others in the past. But he’s never brought anyone home. The thought of sharing this space with someone had always felt too personal. 

And yet, after kissing you on the balcony, he knew he couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else bringing you home. The very memory of Reo asking you out sends a fresh wave of irritation through him.

“Hey,” Hiori calls, casually pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion. “Something caught yer eye?”

Startled, you snap the book shut and turn toward him. Warmth blooms across your face as your eyes land on the now half-naked midfielder, his lean, toned torso illuminated by the monitor’s soft light. He pats the space beside him, smirking slightly.

It’s one thing seeing him all sweaty and his jersey sticking into his body during games. But being up close, behind closed doors and seeing his toned torso got you holding your breath for no good reason. 

You shrug off his cardigan and drape it over his gaming chair before walking towards him.

“You’ve got some impressive collections,” you say, attempting to sound casual. “I’m kind of jealous.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Ya don’t think it’s childish?”

Hiori’s hand finds yours, and before you can answer, he gently tugs you onto his lap.

“I—uh… no,” you manage, a little flustered. “It’s very… you. But I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who reads shoujosei. Especially the, um, adult-rated ones.”

You shift slightly, unsure of your own weight, but Hiori’s hands steady you. His grip is firm, and his thumbs trace slow circles on your hips through the fabric of your trousers.

“Well,” he says, his tone light and teasing, “What can I say? M’just a cultured kinda guy.”

Your arms wrap around Hiori’s neck, pulling him closer as his hands find your waist. His touch is firm yet hesitant, as though he's afraid to push too far.

Before you can process it, you tug your top over your head and toss it aside. In one smooth motion, he flips you onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours. The mattress sinks beneath your weight as he moves to unbutton your trousers, sliding them off and leaving you in nothing but a matching set of black lingerie. His gaze lingers, taking in the sight of you in nothing but your underwear.

Hiori stands briefly to shimmy out of his pants, leaving only his boxers. He kisses you again and it deepens even further, growing even more bolder. His lips trails down from your mouth to your jawline, then your neck, where he pauses to draw in a deep, shaky breath. 

Every touch is deliberate. Firm yet reverent. Like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingers. But at the same time, there’s a certain hunger in his touches that feels restrained, as if he’s holding back. And you feel it too. The tension, the longing. 

When his hands slide over your thighs, you instinctively move to cover them, a wave of insecurity about your stretch marks hitting you. But before you can, Hiori gently moves your hands away, leaning down to press soft kisses against the marks. There's a certain tenderness to it that makes your heart ache. 

“Yer beautiful,” he murmurs to you, peppering your thighs with light kisses. 

His words send a warmth flooding through you, and your heart races. But as his fingers hook around the strap of your bra, he pauses. His forehead rests against yours as he exhales heavily, his breath hot against your skin.

“I don’t want this to be just physical,” he says softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want ya thinkin’ this is just for tonight.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. He looks away, as if afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

You cup his face, gently guiding him back to meet your gaze. “I don’t think that,” you whisper. “And if we’re not ready for this, it’s okay. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

A small, relieved smile plays on his lips. You both chuckle at how awkward and intense things have become, and he pulls you upright so you can lean on his chest. 

He exhales, his shoulders relaxing as though a weight has been lifted. Then he begins to talk.

“I’ve never been uninterested in romance,” he admits, his gaze shifting to the window, where the faint glow of moonlight seeps in. 

“It’s just… no one’s ever made me feel like it was worth the effort. I liked the quiet and peace of being on my own. Maybe I’ve even convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone. Easier that way.”

You stay silent, your heart tightening as he continues.

“Maybe it’s because of my parents,” he confesses, his voice dipping with a hint of bitterness. 

“They’re both Olympic athletes. Together, they’re the perfect story on the outside: power couple, world-class achievers, everything you’d think people dream about. But growing up, I realized their love wasn’t the kind of love that brought happiness. It was convenience.”

He briefly pauses, remembering that night when he found his parents shouting at each other for not doing better to make him the best. His heart twists at the memory of falling down the stairs, the sharp sting of pain in his knee as he fell. 

He hadn’t meant to overhear them arguing, but their raised voices were impossible to ignore.

"He’s slacking because you’re too soft on him!" his father had yelled.

"And you’re too harsh! No wonder he looks miserable every day!"

Hiori had stood frozen outside their door, his small hands trembling. He thought playing soccer made them happy, that it brought them closer as a family. But that night, the illusion broke.

"I still remember the exact words," Hiori murmurs, half to himself. "'We can’t waste his potential. He has to be the best.'" He looks away, his jaw tightening. 

"I realized that night," Hiori says softly, his voice laced with quiet bitterness, "their love wasn’t real. It was convenient. They stayed together because I was their project—not their son. Not for each other, either. Just… to protect their legacy."

He pauses, the weight of it all settling over him again. What if love really is just a transaction? A compromise? The thought had scared him then, and it still did now.

"I kept playing soccer after that," Hiori continues, his voice steadying. 

"Not ‘cause I loved it, but ‘cause I thought it’d keep the family together. That maybe it’d be enough to stop the cracks from showin’. But it never was." He swallows hard, his gaze clouding. 

“Soccer stopped being mine. It became theirs. A chore I did for people I didn’t even love anymore.”

His words hang in the air like a confession he’s been holding for years. He hesitates, looking back at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“That’s why I’ve always kept people at a distance, even when I tried dating. I just… couldn’t care. I felt detached. Until ya.” His voice softens, but the rawness remains. 

“Yer different," he says, his voice low but full of emotion. 

"Ya made me wanna know everythin’ about ya. Made me wanna be bothered, be interrupted. I… want ya to look at me. Not anyone else. Just me. I want ya."

For Hiori, this moment feels surreal. It’s been so long since he’s let himself get close to anyone like this. Not just because he’s unwilling, but also because his life as an athlete has left little room for romance. 

Between grueling schedules and the endless pursuit of perfection, there was no space for vulnerability—or so he thought. 

And then you happened. 

You walked into his life and unraveled his carefully constructed walls without even trying. Now, with you here, wrapped in his arms, the raw intimacy feels new, almost overwhelming. He hadn’t realized how much he craved this until now.

“I didn’t know how much I wanted it until I thought I might lose ya.”

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he searches your eyes. “Ya scare me,” he admits. “Ya make me feel things I don’t know how to handle.”

The depth of his words stuns you, leaving your chest heavy with emotions you can barely name. Without thinking, you sit up and you lean into him and pull him into a fierce hug. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“You scare me too,” you confess, your voice trembling. 

“You’re the only one I see. Always have been. I meant every word I said earlier. And I’ll say it a thousand more times if you need me to.”

You pull back slightly, your hands cupping his face as you meet his gaze. 

 “You’re… unreachable, Hiori. And I can’t even begin to understand what you see in me.”

“It’s hard to explain,” you continue, your own voice faltering under the weight of your honesty. 

“You leave me speechless, and yet I could talk about you forever. Getting to know you these past months—through games, through work—it’s felt unreal, like something out of a movie. And that scares me because liking someone like you feels impossible for someone like me.”

His brows furrow, and you see the protest forming on his lips, but you press a gentle kiss there before he can speak.

Hiori reaches up, his hands covering yours as they rest against his cheeks. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of hesitation before he speaks, his voice quieter now but no less steady.

“You don’t have to wonder,” he murmurs. “About what I see in you. All I know is ya make it feel like it’s worth a try. I don’t have all the answers, but… I know I want to try. With ya.”

His words land softly. You don’t respond right away, the air between you thick with unspoken fears and hopes.

Finally, you nod, your lips curving into a small, uncertain smile. “I don’t know if I’m good at this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to try too. With you.”

A small, almost incredulous laugh escapes him, and you feel the tension in his shoulders ease as his hands slide down to rest on your waist. “That’s good enough fer me,” he says softly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a genuine smile.

You both sit there, holding each other, the quiet between you no longer heavy but comforting. The weight of expectations, doubts, and past fears seems to lighten, even if just a little. It’s not perfect—there’s no dramatic declaration, no grand resolution—but it feels real.

And that’s more than either of you had dared to hope for.

The soft rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. You stir, body stretching lazily before realizing Hiori is still sound asleep beside you.

Tangled together, your leg drapes over his, he cradles you against his chest. Peaking thru your lidded eyes, you see his features softened in a rare moment of peace. The sight tugs at her heart, but a glance at the clock reveals it's almost noon.

It’s noon. Shit. You find your phone under the pillow and check your messages. There’s one from your roommate, who’s worried you didn’t come home. Both of you share a GPS tracker on your phones to ensure each other’s safety.

miko: WOMAN I SWEAR TO GOD IF U DONT REPLY I WILL CALL POLICE WHEN IT HITS 24HRS

miko: IS THIS WHERE UR BODY IS BURIED?!

[image attachment]

Attached is a screenshot of your geolocation on the app, your avatar image zoomed in.

miko: if u hooked up with a guy, do a sister a favor and tell me in advance!

miko: also, i want all the details when u get home. stay safe! xoxo

You laugh breathlessly, trying to slip out of Hiori’s arms without waking him. Stealthily, you slide out of bed. You’re still in your underwear, so you decide to grab Hiori’s shirt from the floor and wear it in the meantime.

At this point, you’re already contemplating going home, but you don’t want to leave him so abruptly. Closing the bedroom door behind you, you head to the apartment’s kitchen. Maybe you can cook brunch and eat together before heading home.

The fridge is surprisingly well-stocked. There are eggs, beef, chicken, vegetables, and fruits. The cupboard is filled with cup noodles, chips, and snacks. You decide on a simple but hearty brunch—pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit.

The rhythmic sizzle of the stove fills the apartment, and the aroma wafts into the bedroom. Hiori stirs awake, his hand instinctively reaching for the space beside him—empty.

She’s gone. 

Panic rises in his chest as his eyes snap open, heart pounding. Memories of last night flood back, and he bolts upright, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He hurriedly gets up and stumbles into the hallway, his heart racing.

Then, he sees you in the kitchen, wearing his shirt and humming softly as you tidy up the countertops. You’re on your phone, replying to your roommate to inform her that you are indeed alive and kicking. The tension in his body melts instantly, especially when you pout for the camera and snap a quick selfie to send to your roommate as "proof of life," as you call it.

You take the plates and notice him looking a bit dazed.

“You’re up,” you greet him with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind me raiding your kitchen.”

Relief washes over his face, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Ya scared me. I thought ya left.”

You tilt your head, your expression softening. “Why would I just leave?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he walks over to stand beside you, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he absentmindedly tugs at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing.

 “It smells good,”  he murmurs, his voice warm against the shell of your ear as he takes a plate from your hands.

You and Hiori sit at the small dining table. Hiori has done the liberty of putting on some sweatpants and a shirt.

Thank God, or he might’ve been my breakfast, you think.

He takes a bite of the pancakes, his expression shifting into one of pleasant surprise.

“This is really good,” he says between bites.

You grin. “Not bad for someone who usually orders takeout, huh?” 

You pop a piece of sliced apple into your mouth, watching him while sneaking a quick peek at your phone when it vibrates with a message from your roommate.

Hiori leans back, his eyes lingering on you. “Stay a little longer.” His voice softens, hesitant. 

“You don’t have to go home immediately. I just... I don’t want ya feelin’ like ya hafta rush off.”

You smile, your chest tightening with a mix of surprise and affection. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

After brunch, you decide to take a shower. Hiori lends you a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a loose shirt. The clothes are oversized, practically swallowing your frame, and Hiori can’t help but smile at how cute you look in his clothes.

Once you're done, he takes his turn in the shower, emerging moments later in similar attire—black sweatpants, but he opts for a black hoodie instead.

When he steps into the living room, he finds you on the floor, flipping through old photo albums and yearbooks that he must’ve taken from his home. It’s been years since he’s touched them. You’re currently looking at photos and clippings from his Blue Lock days.

He sits beside you and starts walking you through the memories. There’s one photo of the Blue Lock team celebrating after their victory against the U20 team. Isagi’s arm is slung over his shoulder, pulling him close as they all smile together.

Another photo shows the Bastard Munchen team at the start of the Neo Egoist League. The group is stiff, awkward, but undeniably cute—especially the younger Noel Noa standing in the middle of a group of teenage boys. You spot Hiori between Isagi and Ness, wearing the same jersey, his face deadpan as ever. The boyish energy surrounding him makes it just so endearing.

As Hiori recalls some fun stories behind the photos, you snap pictures of them. When he asks why, you casually answer, “For my personal photo album collection.”

While Hiori fires up the PS5, your eyes catch a familiar cutout. It’s the clipping of the article you first wrote about Bastard Munchen earlier this season. The sight of it brings a nostalgia, and you pause for a moment, letting the emotion wash over you before carefully closing the album.

You both settle onto the couch, deciding to play Overcooked 2. It was meant to be a chill game (Hiori’s words, not yours) but your competitive streak kicks in, and suddenly you’re both obsessed with earning three stars on every level without missing a single order.

It’s chaotic and hilarious. Hiori doubles over with laughter, teasing you for taking it so seriously. But your energy is infectious, and soon, he’s caught up in the challenge as well. For a while, everything else fades away—the world outside no longer matters. It’s just the two of you, working in sync, caught up in the frantic fun of the game.

Then, a sudden realization dawns on Hiori. One night, the two of you were just casually playing online together, and now—here you are, comfortably (and fiercely) competing in his apartment, with nothing more than each other’s company to keep the world at bay.

The game is in full swing when a notification pings on the screen, briefly interrupting the action.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes flicking to Hiori.

A stream of messages floods the tv.

isagoat: hiori where d heck r u isagoat: check ur phone kyuuurona: check gc now!!! jintan: whos the girl raichinumbahwan: damn everyones panicking abt u rn and ur playing overcooked?!

Hiori picks up his phone, his brow furrowing as he scrolls through a deluge of messages in the Bastard München group chat.

Ness: look what i found /Hiori Ness: [image attachment link] Isagi: So this is why you were gone immediately? Igarashi: You were supposed to be my wingman last night /Hiori 🙁 Gesner: damn hiori has more rizz than raichi wwwww Kurona: [chiitan bonk gif]

Hiori clicks on the link from Ness, and you can’t help but peek over his shoulder. The screen loads a gossip article with a headline that's as bold as it is damning:

THE MOST ELUSIVE BASTARD MÜNCHEN MIDFIELDER CAUGHT KISSING A MYSTERY WOMAN AT THE JFA PARTY—AND LEAVING TOGETHER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE EVENT!

The accompanying photo is blurry, but unmistakable.

It’s you and Hiori, his navy-blue cardigan shielding most of you from view as he cradles your face, kissing you.

Your face pales. “Oh god…” You immediately cover your mouth, mortified.

Hiori groans, running a hand through his hair. “I knew someone’d see us. Shoulda been more careful.”

The two of you sit in stunned silence, staring at his phone as the comments continue to flood in beneath the gossip article. Some are playful, others more speculative:

Is the new girl a celebrity? Is she someone from JFA? Hiori Yo a womanizer?! Is Miss Journalist out of the picture? HioRizz caught on 4K Edited, that’s not Hiori lolol Does anyone else think she’s kinda familiar? Like I’ve seen her somewhere before. Hiori going public with a girl? Wild. Who’s next, Niko Ikki?

You scroll through them, a tinge of panic rising in your chest. The sudden spotlight is definitely not what you need right now. You don’t want to cause any trouble for Hiori—or yourself.

Especially not for him, since he’s already a public figure. Someone who’s been fiercely private about his personal life.

You glance up at him, worry etched on your face. “Hiori, this could cause problems for you, right?”

He meets your gaze, unwavering. “I don’t care what they say ‘bout me. M’more worried ‘bout ya. Are ya okay with this?”

“As long as you’re okay, I’ll be fine,” you reply, nodding more to reassure yourself than him.

Hiori notices the subtle shift in your expression, and without a second thought, he places his hand over yours.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, squeezing your hand gently. “We knew this could happen. Not this soon, but... I won’t let it get worse.I won’t say anythin’ about us till yer ready.”

You look up at him. “But what if they don’t leave you alone? What if they keep bothering you? I don’t want to cause you any problems this early on.”

The tension in the room begins to ease as the two of you talk through the complexities of the situation. Hiori leans back, propping his feet up on the coffee table, his fingers running through his hair in thought.

“We can’t ignore it,” he admits, his voice firm but calm. “Our lives are too connected, professionally and personally. The media will be watching, and people will wanna know more. But I don’t want that to dictate us, either.”

You nod, the weight of the situation sinking in. “It’s hard, though. I mean, we’re both in the public eye. You with your career, and me with mine. If this becomes a story, my job could get involved too.”

“I don’t want to put you on the spot, or make you uncomfortable, or—”

“Hey, hey.” He cuts you off, meeting your gaze. “Ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout me too much, alright?” His fingers intertwine with yours.

“But you—”

“It’s not just me in this. It’s both of us. So lemme worry ‘bout ya too, ‘kay?” He leans in and kisses you softly on the lips.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he assures you. “We don’t hafta let them dictate how we handle this. Not until we’re ready.”

You look at him, your heart swelling with appreciation for his honesty, his understanding. “We can keep it private for now, right?”

“For as long as ya need,” he says, his eyes soft with affection. “Let’s just focus on what we have. No distractions.”

The conversation lingers in the air, but Hiori gently pulls you into a quiet, comforting silence. After a few moments, he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“This isn’t something we have to solve today,” he murmurs, his voice steady, calm. “Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll deal with it. But right now, we’re here.”

You smile up at him, the warmth of his words melting the uncertainty that had been growing inside you. “And that’s enough, right?”

“Yeah,” he says with a gentle grin. “That’s enough.”

Hiori holds you close, his arms wrapping around you, and the noise of the outside world fades into nothingness. The article, the comments, the chaos—they’re all just background noise in your little bubble, and for the moment, that’s all that matters.

amari's notes: this is my fave chapter so far! i was originally making this a smut chapter (but i suck at writing one) and it didn't felt right for some reason with the both of them. but nevertheless, this one is really close to my heart, i love hiori and miss journalist's dynamic so much huhu anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (if you wanna join the taglist, just comment or send me a message!)

taglist: @inu1gf

[mindsschool]

Embrace the journey, cherish the moments, and dance through the chapters of life's beautiful chaos.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Rhythms

120k, 17 chapters all written, E, updates on Sundays on Ao3.

TK swoons when he discovers a sentimental scrapbook full of notes he and Carlos have left for each other – but he also unearths a book of poems that closeted teen-Carlos wrote about his struggles, including a few dedicated to his high school crush. An adorably mortified Carlos recalls the stir he caused when he was published anonymously in the high school paper, and everything he went through to write his wedding vows for TK years later. With TK as a hype-man, maybe Carlos can embrace his creative side again.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 - Love Heart: The day after TK and Carlos’ first wedding anniversary, TK is sent home from work sick. Back at the loft unexpectedly, he makes a surprising discovery about Carlos.

Chapter 2 - Club Can't Handle Me: In 2011, sixteen-year-old Carlos is both in the closet and in his high school’s wrestling team – and it’s all a bit too much. Perhaps against his better judgment, he turns to poetry and makes a decision that will change his life.

Chapter 3 - Crossroads: Daydreaming about his wedding vows mid-drive, Carlos gets pulled over for a traffic violation – and Gabriel isn’t happy. Reunited with TK, Carlos might be lost for words, but he finds another way to express his love and desire.

Chapter 4 - The Wrestler: Carlos’ poems are published – and he quickly learns there’s no putting the genie back into the bottle.

Chapter 5 - A Gay Fantasia: In the aftermath of being abducted by a serial killer, Carlos reflects on recent events and resumes work on his wedding vows.

Chapter 6 - La Tormenta: Carlos is devastated when Scott gets a girlfriend, and he finds himself in another snowballing situation.

Chapter 7 - Soulmates: When TK has a Huntington’s disease scare, Carlos finds he knows exactly what to say. But will it help him with his writer’s block when it comes to his wedding vows?

Chapter 8 - Man of Mystery: It’s the day of the Lake View High School Talent Show – and will the real Shadow Poet please stand up?

Chapter 9 - Crush: In 2011, it’s make or break for sixteen year old Carlos at the talent show. In 2024, TK becomes the hype man Carlos had needed over a decade ago.

Chapter 10 - From Behind: A couple of weeks before the wedding, Carlos is still working on his vows when a deeper rift develops between him and his dad. In 2012, seventeen year-old Carlos is spiraling after coming out to his parents.

Chapter 11 - The Other Wrestler: TK decides to lift Carlos’ spirits by learning how to wrestle.

Chapter 12 - Carlos Reyes Will Be Okay: At Gabriel’s funeral, Carlos regrets saying no to reading a poem in tribute – but during the wake, he finds himself under a whole new pressure. Later that night, he realizes the vows he’s worked so hard on for TK cannot be spoken yet.

Chapter 13 - The Closet: Despite some good news, Carlos ends up in the doghouse with his mom and with TK.

Chapter 14 - Once in a Blue Moon: Reeling from his confrontation with Andrea, Carlos seeks advice and admits a secret.

Chapter 15 - Raining on Prom Night: In May 2012, chaos erupts at Carlos’ senior prom.

“I was just remembering–” Carlos says, “The first time you stayed for a while after one of our hookups. It was, like, the third time we hooked up, I think. I asked if you wanted tea and cookies and you looked at me like I’d said the weirdest thing ever.”

TK’s exhausted, puffy face breaks into a dazzling grin. “You were being such a Boy Scout.”

“But then you said yes and you ate half the cookie jar.”

“You called me the Cookie Monster.”

“That was the first time I really made you laugh.”

“Tea came out my nose.”

“It was beautiful,” Carlos says, pausing then to qualify: “Your laugh.”

TK gazes up at him, his clear green eyes large and shining. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“The first time you made me laugh was when we were dancing at the honky-tonk.”

“Hey!” TK swats his arm. “I was trying my best!”

“You were so goofy,” Carlos chides. “I just loved it. I loved you.”

Read on Ao3

[endangeredrandomfanfics]

"A Mother's Calm in the Storm"

Taglist- @circe143 @skittlebum

Masterlist

Summary: A few days past and you and Agatha continued to live on with her draining witches but one fateful day you happen to trigger your powers and don't know how to react luckily your mother is there to help -Chapter III

===============================

The forest was alive with the soft whispers of leaves in the wind, birds singing their afternoon songs as Agatha and her child walked together. It was the child’s tenth birthday, a day Agatha had known for years would be special in more ways than one. She’d sensed the potential growing within them, like a seed waiting for the right moment to bloom.

But she hadn’t expected that moment to arrive so suddenly.

One second, her child was bending to pick up a small stone by the river, and the next, it was as though the forest itself had come alive in response to their touch. The stone hovered, spinning in the air between their fingers, and all around them, pebbles and leaves began to rise, circling in a strange, beautiful dance. The child’s eyes widened, watching in shock as the power spread outward, pulling more of the forest into its grasp.

Agatha stepped closer, her heart swelling with pride and wonder, but her child’s face held only fear.

“Mama,” they whimpered, their voice shaking, “I don’t know what’s happening… Make it stop, please!”

The child’s breaths came faster, panicked, as more objects lifted into the air—small stones, branches, even the water from the river lifting in droplets, suspended in a shimmering ring around them. They backed up a step, clutching their hands to their chest, eyes brimming with tears.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, my love,” Agatha murmured, kneeling down to their level, her voice gentle and warm. “It’s just your magic coming to life. You’re not in danger, and I’m here with you.”

But the child shook their head, squeezing their eyes shut as tears spilled down their cheeks. “I don’t want this—I don’t know how to make it stop!” They sobbed, trembling as the energy surged stronger, the floating objects circling them faster, caught in a storm they didn’t understand.

Agatha’s heart ached to see their distress, but she kept her voice calm, her hands reaching out to gently rest on their shoulders. “Look at me, sweetheart,” she said softly, her thumbs brushing away their tears. “Take a deep breath, just like we do when we’re practicing our songs. Remember? Breathe in… and out.”

They opened their eyes, looking into her calm, reassuring gaze. Her voice, soft and steady, seemed to reach them even through their panic. They sniffled, trying to breathe with her, their small hands clutching hers like a lifeline. Agatha’s presence was a steady, warm anchor in the chaos.

“Good,” she whispered, brushing a stray hair from their face. “You’re doing so well, my brave one. Now, let’s try another breath. Nice and slow.”

They breathed in again, following her rhythm, and Agatha felt the storm of energy around them begin to calm, the floating objects dropping slightly. She held their gaze, smiling softly. “There you go. You’re safe, my love. Nothing bad will happen—you’re in control.”

But even as the child tried to steady their breath, another wave of energy surged within them, wild and powerful. The stones, leaves, and river water rose again, swirling in chaotic orbits around them. They gasped, feeling the power slip from their grasp, their tears returning in a flood.

“I… I can’t do it, Mama!” they cried, their small voice breaking with fear and frustration. “Everything’s spinning, and I don’t know how to make it stop. I’m so scared…”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Agatha pulled them into her arms, wrapping them in a warm, comforting embrace. “It’s okay, my love,” she murmured, stroking their hair, letting her touch soothe them. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m right here, and I’ll help you.”

The child clung to her, burying their face in her shoulder, sobs shaking their body as they tried to calm down. Agatha held them close, rubbing small circles on their back, her voice a steady whisper. “Listen to me, sweetheart. This magic—your magic—is a gift, and it’s a part of who you are. Right now, it feels strange and new, but with time, it will become familiar. You’re so strong, my brave little one.”

They pulled back slightly, looking up at her with tear-filled eyes. “But I… I can’t control it. It’s too much, Mama.”

Agatha cupped their cheek, her gaze soft and full of love. “That’s why I’m here, my love. I’ll help you learn to control it, bit by bit. For now, just focus on me, and remember that this magic is yours. It belongs to you. It can’t hurt you if you learn to welcome it.”

They sniffled, nodding slightly, still clinging to her hand as they tried to process her words. “What if… what if I can’t make it go away?”

She smiled, leaning down to kiss their forehead. “Then we’ll face it together, every step of the way. But I promise you, my darling, you’re much stronger than you think.”

Her words seemed to sink in, and slowly, they felt the storm inside begin to calm. The wild energy quieted, and the objects around them began to lower back to the ground—stones and branches settling softly, the droplets of water falling gently into the river.

Agatha watched with pride as they breathed deeply, steadying themselves, their small shoulders relaxing. She held their hands, guiding them through each breath, her warmth and strength steady and reassuring.

When the last of the chaos had faded, the child looked around, astonished by the stillness, the quiet. “I… I did it,” they whispered, a small, uncertain smile crossing their face.

Agatha’s heart swelled, and she pulled them close again, wrapping her arms around them. “You did, my brave one. I’m so proud of you.”

They hugged her tightly, letting out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Mama. I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”

Agatha held them close, her own eyes misting over as she kissed the top of their head. “You’re stronger than you know, my love. And I’ll always be here to help you understand your gifts, every step of the way.”

They stayed wrapped in each other’s embrace, letting the warmth and safety of Agatha’s love settle over them. And as they began to walk back along the forest path, Agatha kept her arm around their shoulders, a smile on her lips as they talked about their newfound powers and the exciting journey that lay ahead. Together, they were ready to face whatever came next—mother and child, bound by a love that was as fierce and enduring as the magic within them.

===============================

A/n: Please leave a comment 💜 I wanna read your thoughts 💭 about this, it's only the beginning I made more interactions happen between Agatha and the reader

[millervrse]

❝ BY THE COFFEE MACHINE ❞ javier peña x reader

summary: Javier Peña doesn’t like you. You’re too nice, too bubbly, and you get on his last nerve. He didn’t get how anybody in this line of work could be so goddamn cheery all the time. Though aside from your, in his eyes, forced and fake kindness, you had no bad features, and perhaps that, added to your beauty, is what ticked him off so much. Could he learn to like you the more time passes, or would you do this dance of hatred forever?

pairing: javier peña x afab!reader

warnings, notes: EVENTUAL 18+ smut, r! has a bit of an established backstory, a few uses of y/n but only when necessary, r! has a dog, references to narcos and thus real life people and occurrences (pablo escobar, the cartel, dea, etc), ENEMIES TO LOVERS but it’s one sided because javier hates r!, r! has an established personality, grumpy x sunshine, workplace setting, javier and r! are coworkers, use of cigarettes

word count: 2.6k+

LYN SPEAKING! so this is the first chapter of, again, a finished piece that was written nearly a year ago. you can read the prologue here! and again, this is all from javier’s pov, but i’m going to throw in some nsfw chapters using second person for the economy so, yeah! enjoy! lyn out!

DO YOU WANNA KNOW? @bishtrouille @axshadows @troubledsoul-black let me know if you’d like to be added!

“Coffee,” I said simply. Her smile softened a little, and she raised her eyebrows in confusion. “What?” she asks. ❝ YOU'RE BLOCKING THE COFFEE MACHINE ❞

CHAPTER 1: FIRST IMPRESSIONS

COLUMBIA, SEPTEMBER 1982

For once in our lives of chaos, the madness had died down, and there was no new news regarding the man who had been the focus of our missions for months now.

Pablo Emilio Escobar Gaviria: A drug dealer, and a major pain in my ass.

In the years that I’ve worked Escobar’s case, the man has put the DEA, and the whole of Columbia, for that matter, through hell and back. A war of drugs has been going on under our noses, and the man behind it is an evasive ghost.

We haven’t found him because he doesn't want to be found.

Days in the office have been passing by slowly. With no new leads, and little for us to do, we’re at a loss here. Can’t tell you how much time I’ve used clicking my pens or looking through the same case files over and over again, just to see if something appears that wasn’t there before.

It hasn’t happened yet.

For the third time that morning, I got up from my seat to get a cup of coffee, since having drained mine. Murphy’s eyes snapped to mine from where he sat across from me, and he raised an eyebrow.

Murphy was the guy I’d been working with on the drug cases for a few months, and we’ve come to be pretty friendly with each other during that time. Thus, his first words when he sees me get out of my seat.

He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head at me. “You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack with all that damn caffeine,” he remarked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.

I shrugged, throwing away the paper coffee cup that I’d been drinking out of. “Murphy,” I scoffed, crossing my arms to mirror him. “If there’s a damn thing in this world that’s going to give me a heart attack, it’s going to be Escobar, not coffee.”

Murphy sighed in response. I could tell the guy was just as done with Escobar’s shit as me, even if he was better at not discussing it than me. He shrugged and rubbed his forehead before responding, “Yeah, fair enough. Drink away.”

I nodded at him, then made my way to the door.

As I made my third journey that day down to the coffee machine, I passed by the hallway where the ambassador’s office was. What was already a shitty day only worsened by the feeling I got in my gut only by looking at her door.

It was hard at the DEA, Murphy and I being the main people assigned to this case, the only two men in the world who knew as much about Escobar and his cartel as the man himself.

And regardless of that, what we knew was minimal.

While the ambassador wasn’t really our boss, just walking by her office was enough to remind me of the drug cases: And that we weren’t getting a damn thing out of them.

I shook off the feelings that crossed over me then and there, and just went on walking.

I was veering the corner to go to our break room, where the coffee machine was, when I heard and saw a view I surely hadn’t when I clocked in this morning.

“Where can I put my things?” a feminine voice rang out from down the hallway, the voice filled with a sort of cheer that wasn’t very common from those who worked here in the DEA building.

My eyes snapped to the speaker before my brain could even process it.

There was a woman at the very end of the hallway I was in, holding a brown box, presumably the “things” she had been referring to mere seconds ago. My eyebrows raised fairly quickly: I had never seen her in the office.

Because I’m sure I’d remember a face like that.

It was impossible to miss her. Her eyes seemed to mesmerize the man she was speaking to, because he was looking at her with an expression usually saved for old, married couples.

He wasn’t the only one.

I couldn’t take my damn eyes off of her: I was drawn to her appearance, and she wasn’t releasing her hold. There was a serious and assured, yet honeyed way about her. Her eyes and smile spoke volumes to what I assumed was a kind persona, but her attire, a white collared shirt, black slacks, belt, and tie, vouched for her professionalism.

It made me uneasy to get so much from her based on her appearance alone. So that was when I whirled on my heel, all but jogging back to where Murphy was.

I loped back to the room with a concerning pace, closing the door quickly behind me. Murphy’s head snapped up, and he looked at me with a concerned expression.

“Hey, hey, hey, Murphy,” I said in a hoarse voice, a little out of breath from getting here so quickly. I took a second to relax, then asked, “Who’s that girl?”

Murphy’s eyebrows raised up, and he looked at me like I’d just asked him to marry me. “What girl?” he asked as his face scrunched up in cluelessness.

I let out a huff and opened the door again to see where the woman had gone. Then, I came back in the room and waved to the window. “That girl there. All the way down the hallway,” I clarified.

Murphy got up and looked through the window that showed the hallway outside of it. His eyes landed on the woman’s, and a look of realization crossed over his face. “Oh. Oh, yeah. That’s the new girl. I think her name is Y/N,” said Murphy.

I looked at Murphy with a furrowed brow when he said that. “You knew?”

Murphy shrugged and nodded, walking back to his chair and sitting down. “I heard some folks whispering about her. She was pretty popular in her old job, I think, skilled in her field. That’s why everyone’s talking about her,” he shrugged, like the fact was common knowledge.

“And no one was gonna tell me?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Uh, no, I guess not. Why would it matter, anyways? She won’t be working with us that much,” he responded.

“She won’t? Why not?” I asked curiously. Why was she up here, then?

“No, she’ll be working with the coaches, training the dogs for drug sniffing. She’ll be around, but—” Murphy explained, but then he suddenly cut himself off. He cocked an eyebrow. “Wait a second, why does this even matter to you, Peña?”

That got me to shut up real quick.

For one of the first times in my life, I was at a loss for words. I licked my lips as I tried to pick my brains for a response that would make sense.

But my mind was abandoned, way too preoccupied to give him a reason. Sooner or later, I just shook my head, giving myself a way out of this conversation.

“It doesn’t,” I shrugged, walking over to my desk. I ruffled through the drawers for a second, before grabbing the final cigarette from the box that I always had with me.

I took a deep breath as I made a note to myself to get more, before saying, “I just wanna know who I’m working with.”

Murphy nodded, though he didn’t really look convinced.

But the good thing was, if there was one thing Murphy knew about me, it was to never push my words. He picked up the case file that he’d been working on when I walked in the room and simply mumbled, “Yeah, okay.”

I sighed in relief, glad that he had just dropped the issue; I seriously didn’t want to talk about this right then and there. Talk about a woman.

I left the room without so much as another word, perching the cigarette in my mouth before I had even made it out of it. I usually smoked in the office, not giving much of a shit to our boss’ wish for me not to. 

But today, I obliged, making my way down the lift to go outside.

When I walked through the lobby and through the doors to exit the building, I mulled over the morning that I’d just had. Escobar’s doings may not be in plain view now, but a new sense of chaos was clearly ready to take the podium.

I lit the cigarette as I leaned on a pillar in front of the building, rubbing my forehead as a migraine began to form there. I exhaled puffs of smoke from my nose and lips, praying that it’d ease all the tension in my figure.

Fuck, what was even going on with me? Who was this girl, and why the hell was one glance her way driving me crazy?

She was just a woman. That’s all she was. And I’ve had countless experiences with women, an art that I knew like the back of my hand. I knew my way around them, and I wasn’t looking to get wrapped up in one at any point, at any time.

I’d just have to pray that this wouldn’t cause any problems in the workplace for me.

I’d have to have hope, and a hell of a goddamn lot of it.

I was walking back up to the breakroom after I’d got back to the building half an hour later. After all, I hadn’t even gotten that cup of coffee I’d been craving before leaving to have a smoke.

But when I walked in the room, I didn’t envision the first person I’d see inside of it.

The new girl.

There she was in front of me again, the same vibe that had emitted from her earlier in my presence once more: Only, it was closer to me now. She was conversing with a male coworker of mine, and they seemed to be engaged in some happy go lucky discussion, because the woman was grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah, I figured, why not? My dog is my best friend, and I don’t want to leave her home all of the time while I’m working, you know?” she giggled as coffee poured from the coffee machine she was next to.

The man, whose name I didn’t even know, chuckled in response. “That’s crazy. So they just let you bring her, huh? And you’re gonna train her up with the other dogs?” the man asked her.

She nodded, flashing him a smile that seemed to glare off the walls. “Yeah! Pretty cool, isn’t it? I’m glad they let me. I wasn’t really sure they would,” the woman laughed, picking up her cup and taking a long sip out of it.

The man was about to answer, when his eyes finally met mine, acknowledging my presence for the first time since I’d walked in the damn room. This caused the woman to look at me too, only smiling at me.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure your dog will do well. Shepherds are pretty big, and the ones we already have do a good job,” he murmured, looking down at the ground. “Anyway, I should get back to work. You have yourself a good day, Y/N. And good luck.”

So that was her name. Guess Murphy didn’t lie.

“Peña,” he said with a professional nod and awkward smile. Then, he left the room.

When it was just her and I in there, we looked at each other for several long seconds. My eyes glazed over her, fully analyzing her appearance now that she was so much closer to me.

I furrowed my eyebrows. 

I don’t know what it was about this girl that was seriously getting to me.

She was just different. 

And I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” she smiled widely at me, putting her coffee cup down to offer her hand to me before giving me her last name. “I’m new to the DEA, if you couldn’t tell. It’s my first day. What’s your name?” she asked.

Her kindly demeanor unsettled me, being both refreshing and alarming. Most of the men and women on this job worked with somber faces. No feelings, small talk, laughs or smiles. Just work, work, work. It was bizarre to see someone in the DEA building beaming, like we worked in some candy shop.

Didn’t she have any idea what this job encompassed?

“Coffee,” I said simply. Her smile softened a little, and she raised her eyebrows in confusion.

“What?” she asks.

“You're blocking the coffee machine,” I clarified for her. Sure enough, she looked to her side to see that I wasn’t lying about that. She murmured a quick, “Sorry,” then moved out of the way.

“Yeah,” I groaned in response. I grabbed one of the paper coffee cups near the machine, then got to fixing myself a cup.

To my surprise, she didn’t leave the room. She crossed her arms behind me, and I could see her looking over me out of the corner of my eye. I could tell she had the urge to speak, but didn’t know how to do so.

Black coffee poured from the maker when she finally opened her mouth. “I haven’t gotten your name yet,” she murmured.

I let out a sigh, wondering why she even needed to know it. “What does it matter?” I replied without a care in the world, looking for creamer in the drawers below the machine.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t, I suppose. I just want to know,” she answered. Then, she perked up, looking at me with a new sense of hope in her eyes. I craned my head towards her for only a second, just to see that same pearly white smile she’d been wearing across her face earlier. “Do you work on this floor, too?”

I closed the paper cup with a lid as she spoke, not even realizing that I’d forgotten to add creamer to it. “Name’s Peña. Javier Peña. And I don’t do small talk,” I replied composedly, turning my body to face her. Clearly, I had yet to get used to her appearance. I’m pretty sure my heart dropped down to my ass when I laid my eyes on her again.

However much I didn’t want to talk to her, there was a fact that remained true, regardless of how it was I was feeling.

She was fucking gorgeous.

Even with my semi rude remark, she smiled at me nevertheless, giving me a little shrug. “Fair enough. It’s not everyone’s thing, especially early in the morning. I get it, Peña—”

“Agent Peña. And no, it’s not,” I said back to her. I was just about ready to leave the room, when she grabbed me by the arm, causing me to pause in my tracks.

“Wait,” she said, clearly doing her best to cling to this conversation for as long as she could.

“What?” I snapped. Though, I didn’t move her hand away.

“Do you know an Agent Murphy? I’ve been looking for him,” she asked very quickly, tilting her head. I raised an eyebrow: She had my attention with that one.

“Murphy? Yeah, he’s my partner. Why, what do you want with him?” I asked curiously, facing my body back towards hers.

“He was supposed to give me some case files on drugs, mainly cocaine. I’m going to be working with the dogs, training them on sniffing out drugs and things like that, so I kind of need them.”

I sighed, trying not to roll my eyes at her. “He’s in the office down the hall. I’ll take you there,” I annoyedly offered. That’s where I was going, anyways, so I didn’t have much of a choice.

“Great! Thank you so much. Lead the way,” she grinned in a brilliant smile, signaling to the door. I grumbled and nodded, before making my way down the hall to Murphy and I’s shared office.

What was it I was saying earlier about hope?

if you made it to the end of this, i really hope you liked it! please consider leaving a reblog, as they help my work immensely <3 kisses!

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Four - Encore

You are rehearsing at the piano when the manager comes over eagerly. He's waving something around in his hand. You choose to keep your focus on your piano, flooding the empty theater with beautiful music. 

Amelie was sitting close by listening to you, but when Jack came in, he focus shifted to him.

Jack stops abruptly next to you waving an envelope in your face. You stop playing to look at it and then look up at him. “What is it?”

“A donation!” He exclaims.

“A donation?” Amelie asks.

Jack nods. “From your sponsor. He wrote a letter stating he will make a donation to the theater as long as you keep performing here.”

You look at the envelope with curiosity. “He did?”

Jack nods again. “Yes. Isn't this wonderful? Our little theater could thrive with such a wealthy man behind it. You, my dear, are a gift.”

A gift.

That's what Lestat had said he had given you. A gift from him. He was going to make sure you could play your music freely without concern of others. Simply because he enjoyed your music.

“How generous of him,” Amelie comments.

“Yes. Very,” you say softly. The very idea of having Lestat looking out for you made your heart race. It was strange how much of an affect one man could have over you over something as simple as music.

“My dear, this is a blessing. Never give up on your music.” Jack beams down at you. His words would be flattering if they had been from someone else.

Jack leaves you alone at your piano. Amelie moves to sit next to you on the bench. “This Lestat… are you two…?” She probes.

“No!” You reply quickly. “Nothing like that.”

Amelie chuckles and presses a couple of keys on the piano. She makes a small little tune and then sighs. “I wish someone would sponsor me for my dancing.”

“Someone should! You're a natural dancer. It's in your blood,” you smile. Amelie looks pleased with your compliments.

“I still think it's romantic. A handsome stranger supporting you for your talent.” She plucks at hwr skirt mindlessy.

“Romantic… It's not like that. He just appreciates good music.”

Amelie rolls her eyes at you, but she doesn't say anything. Still, you can tell what she's thinking just by the expression on her face. However, you don't say anything either.

As you're leaving the theater later they evening, you are cornered by Noah who had been lingering about outside the back door. You could already tell he had been waiting for you because as soon as you come outside he's right beside you.

“So, your sponsor is sending donations to the theater. How nice of him,” Noah says dryly. “You know, you should reconsider our duet.”

“I don't think so,” you say.

“Listen, we could be good together. My voice, your music. It could be magic.” He grins, but it's not a friendly grin.

“Noah, for the last time, no.”

He stops you from walking by grabbing at your elbow. It's not tight enough you can't shake him off, but it's forceful enough to get you to stop.

“I don't like being told no.”

You glare at him. “Well, there's a first time for everything. No.”

“You're making a big mistake,” he tells you.

“I don't think so. If you try a stunt like the other night again, I will have you removed from the theater. Jack can't afford to lose me.”

Noah laughs. “Oh, the kitten has claws.”

You yank your arm away from him. “I have more than claws.”

You storm off onto the street and make your way home. Noah is left in the alley watching you walk away. Anger burns through his body.

As you reach your apartment you're surprised to find Lestat waiting for you outside. You slow down as he approaches you. There's an expression in his eyes that makes you feel like he's reading you.

“What happened, Chéri?”

All tension leaves your body as soon as he's beside you. For whatever reason being around Lestat makes you calm.

“Just Noah riling me up again,” you sigh.

“What did the fool want now?” Lestat asks, a bite to his tone.

“Your donation to the theater has stirred everyone up. I think Noah is jealous he isn't getting any attention.”

“He's a terrible singer anyway.”

You laugh. Lestat's face lights up at the sound. Your laugh was perhaps his favourite sound. Your music coming second.

“Do not let the petty people stand in the way of your music. Your talent is far more precious than anything he could ever say.” Lestat reaches out and caresses your chin gently with his finger. His nail is sharp, but merely tickles your skin.

“I am lucky to have found you,” you say, looking at him with gentle eyes.

“It is I who found you. I am the lucky one,” he smiles.

There's a moment where you can't bring yourself to look away from him. The temptation to step closer and reach out was great, but it is Lestat who breaks the spell and steps away from you. He moves out of reach, the distance seeming too far for your liking. You don't dare move though.

“Get some rest. I shall see you on Friday.”

You don't even get a chance to ask why he was waiting for you outside your apartment. Lestat leaves quickly, gone in the blink of an eye. You don't even question it. You're too occupied thinking about his eyes.

Friday comes around and you're fixing your hair up for your performance. Amelie had left your side moments ago to prepare for her performance. She had been working on a new routine which she was really proud of.

You look up at the sound of knocking on your door and call for them to enter. It's Noah. You feel yourself sigh internally. He leans agaiant your doorframe allowing you to get a good look at his suit. He obviously thinks he looks amazing, but all you can think about it how the colour is wrong for his complexion and that it looks too tight in some places.

“What do you want?” You ask.

“I am here to tell you that tonight is going to be our night. I can feel it.” He grins wide.

“What do you mean?”

“Tonight we will become stars!”

You do not like his behaviour. There's something very wrong with him. You can feel it.

“What are you getting at?” You ask him slowly, calmly.

Noah winks at you. You instantly feel sick.

“Wait and see, darling. Me and you, we're going shine.”

Noah leaves, your door closing behind him. You're left sitting there wondering what all that was about. What is he going to do? What has he done?

You feel uncomfortable.

You watch Amelie come off stage after her performance. She was amazing. Her new routine was exciting and thrilling. She had been working hard on the story telling aspect of her routines and it had really paid off. Amelie hugged you as she exited the stage and then watched you go on after your piano had been set up.

Applause filled the room as you walked across the stage. You ignored it. The only thing you paid attention to was the handsome blond man in his box.

He smiled at you.

You smiled back.

You take your seat at the piano bench and take a deep breath. The only thought running through your head was your hope of Lestat enjoying your music once again. 

You begin to play. Music fills the room. The audience fall quiet as you let your magic work. They hang onto every note and feel themselves drift away to wherever your music takes them.

In his box, Lestat leans forward slightly. his eyes are focused on you. Your music touches his heart. Hearing you play the way you did was a blessing to him.

He closed his eyes just for a moment. Your melody sunk into his bones. He could almost feel every note pass through him. You had him hook, line, and sinker.

Then the magic broke.

Noah's voice cut through the air. Lestat opened his eyes to see the insulting man standing amongst the aisle of seats belting out his song. Lestat clutched the balcony in anger.

Did this fool not understand?

He could still hear your piano, but with one look at you he knew you wanted nothing more than to get up and leave.

Do it.

You swore you heard a voice just now.

Leave.

Your eyes shift up to where Lestat was sitting. He was looking at you.

Don't play for this fool.

Noah could see Lestat looking at you. He decided to sing a little bit louder. Lestat did not turn his gaze away from you.

The music stopped.

You would not play for Noah. You refused. That voice agreed. You got up from your piano and fled from the stage. You ran all the way down to your dressing room to hide.

Lestat turned to Noah who was still signing for a very confused audience. Lestat had had enough. He got up and fled from his box.

Noah stopped singing and took a dramatic bow. The audience didn't know if they should clap or not, so only a few gave a slow applause.

Noah took his leave.

You slumped down at your dressing table, head in your arms. What even happened? You were playing your music. Noah came to ruin it once again.

That voice.

It sounded like Lestat was in your head. But how can that be?

Your dressing room door swings open and Noah storms in. You're startled by his sudden entrance. He is quick to pull you into his arms and dance around the room with you. You're able to push him off you, putting some distance between you and him.

“What is wrong with you?” You ask angrily.

“Nothing is wrong with me. I just want the most talented pianist in New Orleans to play while I sing. Is that a crime?” 

“Well, this pianist doesn't want to play for you!” You yell.

“You have a sponsor and everything!” Noah waves his hands around frantically. “It's not fair! I have been singing for the last 10 years of my life! I have a great voice. Why shouldn't the two most talented people here join as one and make magic together?!”

“You're scaring me…”

He circles around the room, blocking off your exit.

“I'm scaring you?” He laughs. “That's rich. Do you know who you should be afraid of? Your sponsor. That man isn't right… There's something weird about him.”

“Please leave,” you beg of him.

He doesn't go.

Noah takes a few steps closer to you. “Let me look after you. Let me be the angel who sings to your melody. We can leave this crappy town and make the world our stage. You're far too good for a place like this.” 

“Noah, I won't ask again.” You back up as much as you can, but you're out of space.

Before Noah can get too close he's pulled back violently from you. You can only gasp in shock at the sight of him on the ground. Lestat stands over him seething with anger.

“Lestat?” You call softly.

He doesn't look at you. He stares down at Noah like a predator looking at it's prey. You're afraid.

“This pathetic little man thinks he owns the stage, but he is wrong. When you play your music the stage belongs to you. No other. I do not take kindly to those who interfere.” Lestat pulls Noah up by the lapels of his jacket and holds him upright. Noah stuggles agaiant him, but to no avail.

“What are you going to do to me?” Noah asks, freaking out.

“Teach you a lesson.”

In the blink of an eye Lestat is gone. As is Noah. You startled by what you had just witnessed. However, the panic sets in and the need to find them takes over. You run as fast as your legs will carry you.

You're not entirely sure where Lestat has taken Noah, but you take a guess by going to his house. It’s the only place you can think of. Judging by the sounds from inside, you were right. You open the gates and hurry inside.

“Get off me!” You hear Noah yell.

You enter the house in a hurry. “Lestat?”

“Don't come any closer, chéri.” You hear him call from inside the house.

“Lestat, what are you doing? Where's Noah?”

“Help me!” Noah cries out.

“You care about this pathetic creature?” Lestat asks.

“Not really, but I don't want anyone to get hurt…” You call out.

“I will not stand for him ruining you.”

You feel a tug at your heart. There is something in Lestat's voice that had you feeling deeply. He sounded angry but also sad.

“What are you going to do?” You ask.

A moment of silence fills the house. All you can hear is Noah whimpering in the next room.

“I'm going to rid us of this vermin.”

“Lestat?”

In the next moment all you can hear is a chocking sound and then a thud. You can't hear Noah calling for help any more. You decide to face the music and make your way into the next room.

What you saw, you did not ever expect to see.

Noah was propped up on the couch and Lestat was next to him, latched onto his neck. You screamed and covered your mouth as you took in the sight.

Lestat looked up at you. Blood stained his lips, his eyes were wide, but he remained cool and collected.

You ran.

It’s all you could think to do. You ran right out of there and down the street. People turned to look but you didn't care. You needed to get away from that place. Home was the only place you could go. You wouldn't be able to face anyone at the theater.

Noah is dead.

You saw it with your own eyes. Lestat killed him and… and…

No, you had to have hallucinated that last part. Your mind was playing tricks on you.

Vampires weren't real.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4

[crossfandomslut]

At Peace in Your Fire (Pt. 1)

Summary: Y/n Archeron is an adaptable person. As long as there is a warm fire to breathe life into her soul, she can find strength. Even after all they've been through.

Pairing: Future Eris x Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 1,400

Notes: This is my first fic ever and it is hardly proof read haha I have a lot of ideas for this story, so it will have a few parts ! There is no Eris in this chapter, but he is coming ! What do you think the reader's gift from the Cauldron will be ? Please give me lots of feedback and I hope you enjoy ! Also if anyone has a better title suggestion I'm open to them !

Credits: @enchanthings created the beautiful text divider ! And @reveriesources made the gorgeous 'comment and reblog" banner at the bottom !! Thank you both !

Part two

Y/n Archeron has always been an adaptable person. When their father lost their fortune, when their mother died, and when they were forced to move into that shitty little cabin with only one bedroom, she had remained positive. Her and her twin sister, Feyre, learned to hunt together, forage for berries, and steal bread from the baker down the road. Y/n prided herself on being fast enough to never get caught, but if there was ever a close call, Feyre was standing by with a distraction- usually a rodent she would release to run into the house and cause chaos.

If ever the family couldn't find her, she could always be found by a fire. It made her an asset to the family, to be able to always start a fire and cook whatever meat her and Feyre caught, but it also made her “secret” hideouts pretty pathetic. As a child, when she was sick or sad, she would be by a fire. It was the only thing that seemed to sooth her. When she was happy after a good day of hunting and gathering or an afternoon of flirting with the baker’s son to get free bread, she would want to have a fire to celebrate. She would dance around its edges well into the night, even if there was no music to be heard.

That desperate need for warmth and comfort almost had her knees buckling as she and her sisters were ripped from their home in the middle of the night, blindfolded, gagged, and dragged to a land they had only heard of.

When the blindfolds and gags were removed, y/n looked around the large room, to her older sisters, Nesta and Elain, and finally they fell on her twin. Feyre looked to scared and helpless. Y/n had never seen that look on her face. Feyre was so brave and the last time they’d seen her she was so determined and fierce. What the hell happened?

Feyre was nervous about being in the mortal lands with Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian. She hadn’t seen her sisters since before she went under the mountain and becoming Fae. She hadn’t seen her twin since she was dragged to Prythian by Tamlin. Nesta told her that Y/n has been going out to search for her, only stopping at home for a few days at a time to make sure Nesta and Elaine had food to eat. Y/n was out on on one of her searches the last time Feyre was here, and she desperately hoped she would be home this time. She needed to see her twin. Not only to have someone on her team against Nesta, but because she relationship with y/n was the most important one in her life, and she needed to tell y/n everything that’s happened.

Making it through what she thought was going to be the most awkward part, the introductions at the door, Feyre and her friends found themselves in an even more uncomfortable position. Sitting at the table silently, Nesta staring daggers at them, and waiting for y/n to get home.

“She might not show up today. You know how she likes to take her time on her hunting trips. She could be out all night and getting back home in this weather would be a stretch. Travelling isn’t as easy for us humans as it is for your kind.” Nesta stated coldly, refusing to look at Rhys, Azriel and Cassian, the two Illyrians standing cramped in the corner, trying to make their wings as small as possible. “We might as well start without her. Tell us what you’re doing here so you can leave. Y/n can get caught up later.”

Rhys opens his mouth to pick a fight when the front door slams open.

“Nesta I’m back! You won’t believe the size of the deer I got! Can you help me clear the table so I can drag it in here?” At the sound of y/n’s voice, Feyre lets out a sob. “Nes?” The sound of footsteps fill the hall as y/n rounds the corner into the dining room. Her eyes scan the room, making eye contact with Nesta before clocking the three strange males in the corner, and then finally at her twin. Y/n fell to her knees.

Feyre is up in an instant, running to her sister and holding her tight. Y/n holds her just as fiercely as sobs wrack both their bodies. Either Feyre doesn’t notice the blood covering y/n from the deer sitting outside, or she simply doesn’t care. When breathing is once again possible, y/n cups her sisters face in her hands and just stares at her for a long moment. Feyre holds her breath as y/n takes in the delicately pointed ears and the elongated canines. “Fey…you look so beautiful.” Her hands fall from her face as she suddenly realizes what’s happening. “Are you okay? Why are you here? How are you here?” The questions start to become frantic as y/n also realizes that none of the males in front of her are the one who took her away. The one who Nesta had told her Feyre was in love with and going to save. She studies them a second longer and takes note of the dark hair, the violet eyes, and then the wings of the other two males. Wait- wings!? Y/n’s eyes dart between them and then settle on Feyre.

“Y/n, this is Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. His Spymaster, Azriel, and his general, Cassian.” The three males gave Y/n a small smile and a wave as she and Feyre rise to their feet.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Y/n looks just at Rhys then as she says, “Am I to assume that you are the reason my sister is glowing? Not that she wasn’t always stunning, but there’s something about you Faeries…”

Rhys smirks at Feyre as she rolls her eyes, but looks back to Y/n when he says, “I’m afraid so. But she is just as much to blame. Had to be the hero.” His eyes soften with the last part, almost something sad but proud flashed in his eyes before it was replaced by a self-assured, arrogant mask.

“Thank you.” Y/n says with all the sincerity she can conjure in that gaze, as tear once again form in her eyes, and she tugs her sister into another tight embrace. “I want every. Single. Detail of your story, sister.”

Now obviously being kidnaped was less than ideal, but again, Y/n is adaptable. She scanned her surroundings and tried to make sense of what lay before her. In the middle of the grand room, what looked to be in a palace, was a massive cauldron. Standing around the cauldron, on clearly opposing sides of the room, were Feyre, Rhys, and his Inner Circle as they called themselves, and on the other side stood who she predicted to be Tamlin and Lucien. Feyre had told Y/n the whole story. From falling in love with Tamlin, to going Under the Mountain. About Amarantha, the bargain with Rhys, Tamlin locking her away, Lucien standing by doing nothing, and their almost wedding.

With y/n and her older sisters standing at the front of the room, nearest to the cauldron, it was easy to piece the puzzle together. In a whirlwind, y/n fought back with Nesta to keep the Hybern soldiers from putting sweet, innocent Elain into the cauldron. Holding their breaths, they waited until a barely conscious Elain was tipped out of the dark waters. Feyre and the Inner Circle were in various forms of gravely injured, or being held down by the King of Hybern’s magic.

The next to be forced in was Nesta, but trust that she put up the fight of her life, along with y/n. It was of no use, and before she could be fully forced under, that wicked finger pointed right at the King. A gesture so full of wrath, the King had the decency to pale just slightly. When Nesta was dumped from the cauldron, she crawled straight to Elain and wouldn’t let anyone else touch her.

There was no one left to fight for y/n. She was so cold and she felt so helpless as she trashed in the soldiers hold that as soon as her feet touched the warm water of the cauldron, she let the water engulf her. Distantly she could hear Lucien calling out to Elain, but y/n wasn’t sure why. She couldn’t seem to care as she let the warm water embrace her and take over all her senses.

Taglist: @abysshaven @stained-glass-eyes0708

[tarotwithavi]

Some random things your FS will say to you (poetic edition)

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Piles : 1-2-3

Masterlist

Paid services

Let's check their poetic rizz 🤪

Pile 1

"Every moment with you feels like a new chapter in our love story."

"You are the poetry my heart never knew it could write."

"In your eyes, I found my forever."

"I'll be your shelter in the storm, your anchor in the chaos."

"Even in a world of millions, my eyes are drawn to you alone."

"Your laughter is the music that fills my soul."

"I'd travel through time and space just to be with you."

"You are the missing piece that completes my puzzle of life."

"Every day with you is an adventure, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"No matter where life takes us, my love for you will always be a constant."

"Your love is the canvas upon which I paint the masterpiece of my life. And my life is a masterpiece because of you"

"You are the serendipity I never knew I needed."

Pile 2

"In your presence, I find my peace and my passion all at once."

"With you, even ordinary moments become extraordinary memories."

"You are the star that guides me through the darkest nights."

"My love for you is like a fingerprint, unique and indelible."

"In a world of fleeting moments, you are my eternity."

"Like a compass points north, my heart always points to you."

"You're the reason I believe in love stories that last a lifetime."

"With every beat of my heart, I choose you, over and over again."

"You're not just my love; you're my favorite adventure."

"Your laughter is the melody that brightens my darkest days."

"In your eyes, I see a reflection of my best self."

"Loving you is as natural as breathing."

"You're not just a chapter in my life; you're the whole story."

Pile 3

"Your love is a garden, my heart the willing seed."

"In your eyes, I find constellations of dreams."

"Love is the ink, and you are the poetry written on the pages of my soul."

"Your love is the lighthouse that guides my ship through life's turbulent sea."

"In your embrace, I've found the warmth of a thousand suns."

"We are two souls entwined in the delicate dance of love's eternal waltz."

"You are the whispered secret of my heart, the answer to all its questions."

"Every word you speak is a verse in the sonnet of our love."

"In your smile, I see the reflection of a thousand beautiful tomorrows."

"With each sunrise, my love for you blooms like a radiant flower."

"Our love story is written in the stars, a celestial epic of two souls bound by destiny."

"You are the moonlight that guides me through my darkest nights."

"With you, every moment is a stanza in the epic poem of our love."

I made this a long time ago as you can see I don't dress my posts this way anymore lol.

Remember to Reblog lovelies 💗

[hellincarnation]

Songs I listened to while writing this

life. pov. (Or ‘she’)

Mors tua vita mea, your death is my life, for my soul still is a cycle of eternity. And what is the meaning of life without an end? No road has no end nor no river has no mouth, so why do I have to be confined to an existence of perpetuity? This is not a cry for the bony hands of Death, nor a desire for any kind of god, but instead a juxtaposition of the meaninglessness of continuance without evolution against an End.

I danced with Death, they tried to compare us to timers and clocks, but theirs doesn't tick, instead waits in silence, listening to my every breath. I used to ask them why I had the warmth of the sun infused into my skin but when they held me, theirs was glacial? They merely smiled, a halfhearted, uncharacteristic expression, shook their head and replied “I cannot have something I’ve never had.”

And I wept.

For was this really love? Or a craving for the absence of what we couldn’t have. I wanted peace. An End. The final chapter to my story, I want them. And they want the joys of life, a never ending story of revelry and endless adventures, they want me. Were we in love, or so deeply envious of each other that we mocked ourselves into this sham of a union?

death. pov.

the way she looks at me. It’s almost predatory. Like she wants to eat me alive. And I wonder, is my gaze full of the same affliction? I touched my face, then remembered I don’t have an appendage to my body to alter the way i look at her. then, of course, my mind is back to her.

shes full of a type of beauty unmatched in my plane, I yearn for her. Or am I lusting for what she has? Those are two significantly different things. I feel her warmth still, her energy and strength coursing through the way she waltzes. Maybe I want her. Or maybe I want her every touch and action, all on my being.

if I could feel the way she does, I wouldn’t mind if she devoured me ravenously, would I existing in her change anything? What if I hurt her? What if my existence was so corrupted that I’d take away her warmth and replace it with my apathetic nature?

this is selfish. i am a selfish soul. but i can’t help it when my tender words induce her cheeks to flush with the hue of crushed roses. or when my touches makes her breath race. how selfish of me to look upon her reactions and crave it carnally. maybe i want her. or maybe i want to be her.

I got a little ambitious this time, two povs

This blog is turning into a writing blog istg

@jeahreading @tamanna-and-her-struggles @schrodinger-ka-billa @ravenwordss @lotuseaterwhowistlesthedark @shinchansbitch @im-on-crack-send-help @zeherili-ankhein @your-dazzling-sun @abyssmita @debacleofdaemons @unhinged-as-hell @mireyaaaaaaaaa @idk-here-for-the-escapisim @depressed-bi-twerking

@daonedaonlysk @lovely-rants-alot @lesbianpoetess @the-eclipse-is-in-me @mi-stress-of-chaos

[charlesslut16]

-Blanket fort-

summary : Lando, you and your son build a blanket fort...

PAIRING : lando norris x fem! reader

Warnings : none

note : i hope that you had a great day! Today is christmas eve so i am hyped for tomorrow.

december masterlist ; masterlist   

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

Christmas morning at the Norris household was a bustling symphony of excitement. Well it was always so, but at the Christmastime everything was exciting.

The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked cookies and the sound of laughter as your little one, a spitting image of Lando with his infectious smile, tore through wrapping paper to unveil his gifts.

One time you were at his parents and visited them. You sat down together and looked through Lando's old pictures in the picture book, and if you thought back, your son looked exactly like Lando did.

As the day progressed and the sun cast a warm glow through the windows, you found yourselves in the living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and toys.

Amidst the chaos, Lando's mischievous grin caught your eye, and you instantly knew an adventure was about to unfold. He had this twinkle in his eyes that told you.

With a twinkle in his eye, Lando proposed, "How about we make the ultimate blanket fort? The biggest that the world has ever seen, and it will be from the Norris family."

Your little one's eyes widened with excitement as we all dove into the task at hand. Cushions were piled high, blankets were draped, and chairs were strategically placed to form the perfect hideaway.

It was a masterpiece of coziness and imagination, a haven within your own home. It really was a true masterpiece, you could have never imagined that it would be this cozy.

Inside your blanket fortress, giggles and whispers echoed against the fabric walls. Lando and you stole moments to exchange knowing glances, your hearts filled with gratitude for this beautiful life we had created together.

As the evening descended and the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree illuminated your makeshift fortress, Lando's voice took on a softer tone. The softer tone.

"You know," he began, his eyes meeting mine, "I've been thinking..."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation dancing in the air. "About what?" you asked, your curiosity piqued, but you in your inside you knew what Lando had thought about. As did you.

"I was thinking... maybe it's time for us to consider adding another member to our little team," he said, his voice filled with hope and a touch of nervousness. It was cute.

Your breath caught in your throat, surprised yet elated by his suggestion. It surprised you to a degree, as you had hoped that he would ask and you could answer his request.

"Funny you should mention that," you replied, a smile spreading across your face. "I've been thinking the same thing."

A shared moment of silent understanding passed between the two of you, your unspoken desire for another child palpable in the air. You had both always dreamed of a little team.

With your little one playing nearby, oblivious to your conversation, Lando and you exchanged a glance filled with unspoken agreement. At that moment, the decision was made, and a new journey lay ahead.

Later that night, as the house settled into a peaceful lull, Lando and you found yourselves in the quiet embrace of our bedroom. Your conversation from earlier lingered in the air, and with a shared nod, you embarked on this new chapter of your lives.

With the warmth of our love surrounding you, Lando and you embraced the journey of trying to expand your family once more, your hearts overflowing with anticipation and the promise of new beginnings.

And as the moonlight filtered through the window, casting soft shadows across the room, you knew that whatever the future held, you were ready to embrace it together as a team, united in love and adventure.

[faenyra]

Prophecy

chapter 2 | targaryen!reader x helaena + aegon | word count: 2.4k | princess series

summary: Helaena's prophecies about the future are revealed. Aegon invites you to future picnics.

This can be read as a one shot.

It was a sun-drenched day at the Red Keep, the kind that made the sprawling gardens bloom with life and colour. You and Helaena had chosen this enchanting landscape for your midday stroll, seeking peace.

As you walked, your arms hooked together, a sense of sisterly love had enveloped you. Helaena’s whispers floated through the air like music, a welcome sound amidst the whispers of the court. She seemed to draw energy from the beauty around her, her long, flowing dress swishing gently with each step.

On either side of the cobblestone path, vibrant rose bushes flaunted their blooms, their petals kissed by the sun. Various flowers danced in the gentle breeze, their colours a vivid tapestry that delighted the eyes. Helaena paused occasionally, leaning down to peer closely at a delicate blossom, her fingers brushing the petals with a tenderness that reminded you of how fragile beauty could be.

At the end of the cobblestone path lay an outdoor gazebo, its intricate wooden structure entwined with climbing vines and bursts of colourful blossoms. The soft rustle of leaves danced with the gentle breeze, creating a serene atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the chaos behind you.

Sunlight filtered through the lattice, casting playful shadows on the stone floor beneath. The gazebo was a refuge, a sanctuary where whispered secrets and quiet conversations echoed, sheltered from the world outside.

The table was covered in an array of exquisite sweet treats, vibrant confections carefully arranged as if they were jewels sparkling in the sunlight. Tarts glistened with fresh fruit, delicate pastries were puffed to perfection, and chocolates were artfully crafted into whimsical shapes. Each morsel beckoned, waiting to be devoured by you and Helaena.

As you sat down, the inviting scene brought a smile to your face, momentarily lifting the cloud of anxiety that had settled over you. Your eyes wandered over the tabletop, absorbing the colours—golden browns, rosy pinks, and velvety whites—all harmonising beautifully against the worn wooden surface.

The comforting aroma of sugary pastries mingled with the fragrant blooms cascading from the garden. Sweet notes of jasmine and lilac wafted through the air, intertwining with the scent of honey and vanilla, creating an enchanting sensory experience that felt almost magical.

You glanced over at Helaena, her eyes sparkling with delight as she reached for a delicate vanilla cream puff.

“I can’t believe how beautiful everything is,” she exclaimed, her voice filled with childlike wonder.

You reached for a cake slice, which was topped with a strawberry.

One of your favourites.

"It truly is a delight to spend time with you," you said after swallowing a bite of your cake.

As you attempted to gently blow the tiny bug away, a fleeting flutter of annoyance flashed through you. The little creature buzzed insistently, drawn to the sweet treats laid out before you. The warm sunlight illuminated its delicate wings as it danced around, seemingly oblivious to your attempts at dismissal.

Helaena's attention shifted from her treat to you, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. 

“Look at that one! Isn’t it beautiful?” she exclaimed, completely enchanted. 

She had always been the sister who felt a kinship with creatures great and small, and her fascination was often a source of amusement—and sometimes exasperation—for you.

“Helaena, it’s just a bug! Can’t we enjoy our treats without an audience?” you protested light-heartedly, trying to wave it away once more.

“But it’s so interesting!” she insisted, her eyes glowing with wonder.

“It must’ve smelled the sweet pastries just like us. Look, it’s a damselfly!” She leaned in closer, her face alight with excitement as she pointed out the iridescent colours of its wings. 

“They’re harmless, you know," she carried on, her voice laced with sympathy.

Though you appreciated her enthusiasm, you felt a wave of irritation mingling with the sweetness of the moment. 

“Maybe so, but everyone loves a good dessert, and I’d prefer not to share mine with a bug,” you replied carefully, trying not to hurt her emotions, playfully swatting at the air.

With an exaggerated pout, Helaena tried to coax the tiny creature back toward the flowers of the vines instead. 

“Come on, little friend, there are plenty of sweet flowers over there. You don’t need to join us for tea,” her voice now low, almost a whisper.

Aegon’s voice carried a blend of urgency and frustration as he approached the gazebo.

“Jaehaerys won’t stop crying, can’t you help out?” he pressed, his tone shifting from protest to something more commanding, as if expecting an immediate response from his sister-wife, Helaena. The weight of his words hung in the air demanding action rather than a response.

Helaena's eyes met Aegon's, and a flicker of understanding passed between them, one steeped in the shared weight of their family’s plight.

As she stood up, her hands instinctively clenched together, the fingers intertwining in a nervous dance. Anxiety enveloped her, a palpable tension that seemed to amplify the heaviness in the air.

“Aegon, what if…” she started, her voice trembling slightly as worry clouded her brow. 

“What if we can’t protect him? What if whatever darkness has come here is beyond our control?” The tremor in her voice revealed a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with the fierce determination he had just declared.

Aegon stepped closer, instinctively reaching out to steady her.

��We can’t think like that, go on Helaena,” His words were meant to comfort, laced with command before he shooed her away with a wave of his hand, a desperate gesture.

As Helaena's footsteps faded into the distance, Aegon muttered a curse under his breath, the tension in his shoulders evident. He welcomed himself and sank into the chair she had just vacated, momentarily letting the weight of the world rest on his weary frame.

His gaze drifted across the table, lingering on the remnants of half-eaten cakes and pastries, the wine goblet glinting invitingly in the dim light. A bemused smile tugged at his lips. 

“Why don’t you spend time with me like you do with Helaena? You know, indulging in cakes, pastries, and wine?” he mused aloud, his tone light yet laced with a hint of longing.

"Well, why have you never asked?" you replied, meeting his gaze with a slight challenge in your eyes.

Aegon looked at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickering across his face. 

“I suppose I figured you were too busy enjoying Helaena’s company to even think about me,” he retorted playfully, leaning slightly forward, his interest piqued.

With a smirk, he rose from his chair and reached for the wine goblet. The heavy crystal captured the light as he poured himself a generous drink, the rich, dark liquid swirling inside. He took a moment to savour the aroma, his demeanour shifting ever so slightly as he relished the familiar comfort that wine brought.

"Maybe I should change that," he said, casting a sideways glance at you. 

“Perhaps we can make a habit of it—cake, pastries, and a bit of wine, just the two of us.” His tone was teasing, but the underlying invitation was unmistakable.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied, a playful smile spreading across your face as you rose from your seat. As you stood, you brushed off any crumbs that clung stubbornly to your dress, a whimsical gesture that lightened the mood.

Aegon watched you, an amused glint in his eyes, curiosity raised by your coyness. 

“Just think of the lemon tarts and wine,” he encouraged, the warmth of his voice inviting you to consider the possibilities.

With a playful flourish, you twirled back to face him, pretending to ponder deeply. 

“Well, you do make a compelling case,” you teased, your smile widening.

He looked down into his cup, swirling the wine.

“Forgive me, brother,” you curiously said, 

“Was Jaehaerys truly upset, or were you merely here to pitch your idea?”

A smirk played across his face, which gave the answer away.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, yielding the sky to the moon, which she unveiled herself gracefully from the clouds, casting a silvery glow across King's Landing.

You made your way to Helaena's chamber, one where you'd spend a lot of your time.

With a candle flickering in one hand, you reached for the doorknob with the other, its cool metal sending a shiver up your arm. You paused for a moment, taking a breath, before turning the knob. Helaena was expecting you. The faint glow of the candlelight danced across her face as the door creaked open, illuminating her eager smile.

She opened the rest of the door, her smile widening as she gestured for you to step inside, inviting you further into her sanctuary. The room was adorned with delicate trinkets and books scattered about, each corner revealing more of her personality

Her shyness would flutter away, like butterflies, in your presence.

Her room was aglow with the warm light of numerous candles, their flickering flames casting soft shadows that danced across the walls. The inviting, golden hues created a cosy atmosphere, enveloping the space in a serene, almost magical ambiance.

"Let's play some cards," you suggested, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. 

Her eyes lit up with a spark of enthusiasm, and for a moment, her shyness melted away completely. She reached for the  pack of cards that were placed in a bag upon a shelf.

"Sure! I haven't played in ages," she replied, moving towards a small table in the corner, taking her seat.  As she shuffled the cards, the sound of them sliding against each other filled the air, a soothing rhythm that matched the growing excitement in the room.

You settled into your seats, and the game began. With each dealt hand, laughter bubbled up between you—playful banter and friendly competition replacing any lingering awkwardness. 

The card set was no ordinary deck, it was a cherished gift that you had bestowed upon her on her 17th name day, a day that held significance and warmth in both of your hearts. You had poured countless hours into hand-painting each card, infusing them with intricate colours and vibrant designs that reflected not just your artistic flair but the deep bond you shared.

Each card featured a different type of bug, meticulously rendered with an eye for detail. From the delicate wings of a butterfly in shimmering pastels to the fierce elegance of a dragonfly in rich, saturated hues, every image told a story. The beetles glistened with hints of metallic pigments, while the ladybugs boasted cheerful spots of red and black that seemed to leap off the card. 

The cards were not merely a means to play; they were a tapestry of memories, laughter, and creativity woven together.

She revealed more of herself with each play, her laughter ringing like music, and you felt a warmth spreading through the space, transforming the evening into an unforgettable moment of connection.

Though few words were ever exchanged between the two of you, a profound connection lingered in the silence, one that transcended the need for conversation. You had both bloomed in the same womb, sharing a space that nurtured both your lives before the world ever got the chance to separate you.

From the very beginning, there was an unspoken understanding—a bond woven from the tapestry of shared memories and experiences that only those who had once existed as one could truly comprehend. The rhythm of heartbeats, the gentle sways of anticipation, and the warmth of early life had forged an invisible thread between you, connecting your souls in a way that words could never encapsulate.

In the moments you spent together, whether stacked in laughter or enveloped in introspection, the weight of this history hung in the air like a cherished secret. A glance or a fleeting smile often spoke volumes, echoing the depths of your relationship. The world around you buzzed with noise, but within your small universe, silence spoke louder than anything you could articulate.

In shared experiences, a simple touch or a knowing look could ignite a flame of understanding that no amount of chatter could hope to replicate.

It was a deep-rooted familiarity, the kind that only those who had once been intertwined could recognize—a silent language that thrived in the spaces between your words.

In this way, your bond was as rich and complex as the array of colours on the cards you had gifted, each a vivid reminder of the connection that still flourished quietly, even in the absence of dialogue. Your minds were alike, a shared rhythm that flowed between you like an unbreakable bond.

You often found that in the quiet moments, you could sense when she was about to speak, a barely perceptible shift in the air that preceded her words. It was as if you could feel the thoughts gathering in her mind, ready to blossom into speech.

Helaena played with a strand of her hair, her lips parting slightly as if she were rehearsing something profound in her mind. You could see the way her brow furrowed, the way her breath quickened, and you knew that whatever was about to come forth would be something important.

She paused you, her violet eyes reflecting the golden hues that are casted across the room.

A moment of silence stretched between you, thick with a sense of anticipation.

“It’s strange,” she began, her voice almost a whisper, “how certain things seem to align in ways we cannot fully understand..."

Her eyes lit up with a strange mix of excitement and trepidation, a flicker of something wild sparking within her. 

“They were circling above, and I felt their power so vividly. I think…” She hesitated, her gaze settling on yours, and in that moment you felt the weight of her words hanging between you, electric and heavy.

“You think what?” you prompted gently, your curiosity piqued.

“I think they are coming,” she continued, a fierce intensity burning into fear, now visible in her eyes. 

“Not just for me, but for you as well. I have always known that our destinies are intertwined, but these dreams feel like a warning… a promise. There is an awakening on the horizon, a call for those who are meant to be more than just whispers in the dark.”

"Do you ever dream of soaring?" she asked softly, her voice like a whisper carried on the wind.

Helaena had always had a way of seeing beyond the surface of things; there was a depth to her perception that often left you in awe.

After finishing the card game, you returned to your room, reflecting on her words. 

The only way you could truly soar through the skies was on the back of a dragon, something you didn't yet possess.

masterlist

Dividers: @cafekitsune @targaryen-dynasty

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.

< Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit. 

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now. 

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

-

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono. 

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him. 

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors. 

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

-

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way. 

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being. 

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you. 

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming! 

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much. 

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets. 

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

-

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way. 

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

-

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him. 

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

-

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

-

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to. 

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her. 

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it. 

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

-

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows. 

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space. 

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all. 

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you. 

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

-

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA. 

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking. 

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds. 

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row. 

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N 

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks. 

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus? 

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes. 

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

-

Race day arrives. 

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds. 

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy. 

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously. 

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

-

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over. 

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back. 

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

-

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans. 

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

-

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

-

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

-

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan. 

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

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[bigblackbbnny]

Somewhere, the sky is blue

✁- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ╰──➢  ✧;── table of contents ──; ✧ ╭       ⁞ ❏. Media ⟶ .·. Arcane Season 2 ┊       ⁞ ❏.Warnings  ⟶ .·. Spoilers, Character Death ┊       ⁞ ❏.Notes ⟶ .·. So I had in mind to write something about the last chapter of act 2, but I've been very busy. I feel like this is too much half-assed and I'm a bit disappointed my creativity has been drowned these years because I'm focusing on art. I love writing, I'm just very hesitant, unsure and have a hard time putting things into words. ┊     ⁞ ❏.Summary ⟶ .·. In the undercity, where the sky is never clear, some colors burn too brightly to fade.

What kind of courage does it take for someone so small to jump into danger's harm? To look at death in the eye and think 'You can take me, but not them. Not them.'

How do you decide someone's life is worth more than yours?

There's laughter somewhere, there's dancing and giggling and bright colorful paint all over the place. There's blue in her hands and red eyes grinning at her. A surprisingly gentle pair of hands combing her hair, a reluctant guardian lingering in the corners, a place to go back to.

But there's also violence, outside. Just right out the door amidst polluted air, cold glares and souls filled with powerlessness and resentment.

They deserve to know too, that there's more to it than gloomy streets and aching bellies if you find a reason to look forward to another day. To keep moving on.

The feeling was something warm, like the sunlight Piltover took for granted. And there was blue and pink hues so beautiful that could overwhelm you. It was warm and then it was fierce and burning, because whatever you are given can be taken. Whatever you protect can be harmed.

Isha had never been afraid of broken things. She touched everything like it was alive—like it was worth saving. Jinx had taught her how to use a wrench, how to make bombs, how to turn a room into an explosion of pigments and chaos. How to create and how to pull apart. Isha soaked it all in, her quiet smiles and huffs doing what no words could.

That day for a moment, everything slowed.

Isha glanced back at Jinx, her face streaked with soot. Her eyes were bright, somehow they were always a little bit too bright. There was a trace of tears. She smiled—brave, warm and heartbreakingly young—and raised her hand in a mock gun, her thumb cocked like a trigger.

'Pow.'

It was barely a whisper, but Jinx could swear she had heard it amidst the muffled noises of a battlefield, of her world crumbling.

Three blue orbs loaded into a familiar gun.

“No,” she choked out, stumbling forward. “Don’t— ISHA!”

It was loud, unbearably loud. Someone held her back from going after the child that had become her light in the darkness for the last months.

The explosion ripped through the air. Jinx fell back, her ears ringing, her vision blurred by the afterimage of Isha’s silhouette. When the smoke cleared, Vander was still. ...

Turned into ashes blown away by the wind, scattered like it was never there, a little bird opened its wings and peeped “It’s alright for things to be this way...” A cub cried, “but must it be?” ...

Did your hands have slight shake to them? Was your heart beating wildly, making it difficult to breathe?

Did you feel that buzzing behind your eyes? Was your throat tight and your lips trembling when you smiled?

Would you do it all over again, just to see that blinding blue one last time? I give you six months, you give me a lifetime. Somewhere, the sky is blue. The water is clean and you can see the ground underneath. The rocks don't hurt your feet, only dig quite some. There's a place, and there's a family. And we call it home. --- Stop searching Give me a hug Just quietly forget I'm fine the way I am

---

[laduenadelswing]

Lovegame

Vox x female reader

Chapter one

Never in her life has she seen a sky, red like velvet, no sun just a pentagram. Where was she… She ran down the hill unsure of where she might stay for the night. Every shop had to do something with hell, it was pretty out of her ordinary life. Could she really be in hell. The last thing she remembered was a car. Everyone looked strange, some demons looked like animals. Other demons looked liked a mixure between human and animal, some demons ate their companions,. She was scared, alone and did not even know how she got there. She decided to go into a club, maybe she could meet someone there to go sleep. If it worked in Hollywood it will work here as well. Some demons stood in front of some screens. They looked like flies, hellhounds, rotten butterflies, everyone had something twisted in them.

“Vox entertainment stock reaches an all time high.”

“Vox tec is shining with new technology to keep you safe.”

“Vox tec keeps you safe”

“Trust us” Those praises and commercials ran trough every television, computer, phone and billboard in hell. Hell it’s funny that she ended here. She never thought that heaven or hell exists. Now she felt really stupid.

She saw how famous this ‘’Vox’’ was and how many people glued in front of his screens, his influence was present. If anybody knew one or two things about influence it must have been her. How she despised the fame. The night was still young, especially in hell there is always something going on. ‘’If I am already in hell I can still make the best of it. Can´t get any worse. Maybe there is a Club or a Bar where I can find a place to sleep otherwise I might and up as an easy meal.’’ She tought.  

Amidst the chaos and clamor the consent club is a haven for the most adventurous demons of hell. Of course the Club belonged to one of Valentinos close friends. “Vox what is going on your so stressed, Chico. Always working and stressed. Maybe you should shoot your lowest paying employees too. That helps a lot.” Vox sighed. “I wish to shoot them sometimes but it´s not good for the image of Vox tec, you know.”  Vox never could deal with stress like his hot heated friend. It´s not his business. “You know I have whores for every fantasy you could ever have. “Valentino whispered with a mischievous grin. They sat in one of the most exquisite launches drinking Vodka and champagne, smoking cigars ignoring all their future worries while the techno music blasted through the dancefloor.  Vox was focused on his drink while Valentino scanned the dancefloor for a quite some time. “Oi Vox, darling look at this beautiful Chika. She seems like your kink! I bet I can make her a Star.” At first Vox scanned the crowed the ocean of drunk and drugged demons, it almost made it hard to single out someone. Certainly, it didn´t help that Val was smoking like a chimney, red smoke blurring the TV demons sight.

There she was. His LEDs led up. He has never been so captivated, intrigued and tempted in his life before. Vox a demon who only cared about money and power was interested in an demon? Val couldn´t believe his eyes. It must be snowing in hell, surely. She didn’t look like a demon at all. His eyes fixed on a woman unlike any he had ever seen. She was shrouded in an air of mystique and allure, her almost angelic beauty as captivating as the flickering lights of the club. She embodied every fantasy Vox has ever harbored. Vox’s friend and frequent patron of the “consent” Club noticed Vox´s gaze with a smile. “Well, well, Vox, what do we have here? Caught in the throes of infatuation?” They watched her dancing. For someone who seems so innocent she danced like the devil. The music pulsing through her veins and stringing her like a puppet.

Vox´s LED cheeks flushed. His wires sparked, uncontrollable, he rebooted and felt like he has been born in this very moment. His big charming smile had a dark, primal note. “She´s… she´s something else, Valentino” he murmured, his voice laced with awe. Valentino chuckled his eyes gleaming with predatory interest. “I know exactly what she is Vox. She is a rare find, a woman who knows what she wants and isn´t afraid to take it.” He leaned a little bit closer “I´ve been watching her for a while now and I believe that she might be the key to a very lucrative deal, indeed.”

Vox´s eyes widened, his fascination momentarily overshadowed by Valentino´s words “A deal?” he asked, intriqued.

“It’s a plan. A plan that could make us very powerful.” As Valentino began to outline his plan, Vox found himself drawn to a web of intrigue and temptation. The promise of riches and influence was intoxicating, Vox could not resist this power. Deep down he couldn´t shake off the image of her smile. This was his ticket to get to the top. Maybe this must be at the cost of something far more precious. His heart.

He kept watching. There was something odd about her. She had the aura, the looks, the smile. Some demons came up to her to ask her for a picture. ‘’Odd’’ Vox thought. If she is famous he should know her, if it is a more sexual kind of fame Valentino definitely knew her by name. ‘’ Vox, honey you know that we are in a sex club, right. Maybe you should go talk to her.’’ Valentino proposed. In this moment he wanted to punch him to the ground. How can Val think that she is up for something like that. ”I bet she is into you Vox. The ladies have a thing for you, your just too busy to notice it.’’ He said with a seductive tone in his voice. “I noticed that, I am not too busy. I am not interested.’’ He stated as Valentino rolled his red eyes. The Party continued and the crowed grew lager every second. There was no universe in which Vox lost her. He smirked, she is really gorgeous and parties like there was no tomorrow. ‘’If you find her, get her pretty ass to my afterparty. It will be in our headquarters.’’

Amidst the cacophony of the opulent party, Vox stood there confused his imposing figure exuding an aura of otherworldly power and mystery. His red eyes glew, like twin orbs of pulsating light, scanned the crowd, searching for a solution to a dilemma that had him on edge.

Valentino, a figure of immense power and volatile temper, had tasked him with finding and convincing her for the night's festivities. The task was simple, yet the stakes were high. Valentino's unpredictable moods were legendary. Sensing his gaze, Isabel turned towards him, her emerald eyes sparkling with intelligence and curiosity. Vox found himself momentarily lost in their depths, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. The flickering lights complimented her body and she looked even hotter than before. With a mix of determination and a hint of trepidation, Vox approached Isabel, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to strike a deal with her, a mutually beneficial arrangement that would appease Valentino's demands while providing Isabel with temporary shelter in the chaotic realm of Hell. Also it would made her stay with him.

"My lady," Vox began, his voice a low, smooth baritone, "I find myself in a rather peculiar predicament. My college, Valentino, has requested my presence at his gathering, but I find myself without a suitable companion." He smiled a hint of nervousness on his face.

Isabel raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "And how might I be of assistance, sir?" she inquired, her voice laced with a playful challenge.

Vox paused, his expression turning serious. "I propose a bargain," he declared, his eyes locking with hers. "In exchange for your company at this evening's festivities, I offer you temporary refuge in my humble abode, a sanctuary from the harsh realities of Hell. I mean without protection you are an easy target."

Isabel considered his proposal, her mind racing with the implications. On one hand, the thought of spending an evening with this enigmatic demon intrigued her. On the other, she was wary of entering into an arrangement with someone who, by all accounts, was a powerful and volatile overlord. I mean don’t talk to strangers doesn’t count in hell, does it.

"And what of your college, Valentino?" she asked, her voice laced with caution. "Will he not object to your taking me under your wing?"

Vox smiled, revealing a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Rest assured, my lady," he assured her, "Valentino will not be the least bit surprised by my choice of companion. He has a discerning eye for beauty, and I believe you would meet his standards." Vox said his voice became a bit deeper than usual as he took her and gave it a small kiss.

Isabel couldn't help but smile back, intrigued by Vox's confidence and the hint of playfulness in his demeanor. "Very well," she agreed, her voice laced with a hint of daring. "I accept your offer, demon." He smiled it was very charming almost hypnotizing. ‘’Call me Vox.’’ He insited as Isabel began to giggle. They danced for a little bit and Vox seemed to calm down, almost loosing his guard. He has never felt like this before. They left the party together and went trough hell to his office. She followed him quietly, trying not to steal the spotlight or become the center of attention. One of her special talents in the human world, she never knew how she got into those situation but she hated the fake love and attention. Her childhood dream became a nightmare to live in. Maybe hell isn’t so bad after all.

‘’This is my place.’’ He said as they entered the escalator. This afterparty was one hell of an event. She was used to opulent festivities in Hollywood but this was something no human sould could truly experience or process. In all of the chaos many people complimented Vox and his special guest. They drank quite a lot and took a bit to far. They danced completely wasted and she touched him a little bit. At first she touched his strong arms with her hands. Vox could not believe that she actually touched him. After he melted under her fingers, she stroked his extraordinary face. In this moment he fell head over heals into a pit where only she could get him out. This was the best night he ever had. As the new day began and the night faded away, they climbed onto the roof. She listened to the TV demon as he began to tell her that his life here was far from ordinary. They had a view across hell, which was incredibly calming. “What do you do when Valentino doesn’t want to go into a club?” She asked. ‘’I work, Valentino and Velvet are a bunch of work and the multitude of companies and Ideas are very time consuming. How did you get here’’ He asked. She shook her head, looked very tired and looked defeated into the sky. “I don’t think that I am here just jet. The last thing I remember is my car.”  

[kaihuntrr]

The Sea Prince; Hide & Seek

I don’t think you should look behind you, Lizzie.

The sea was dangerous. 

It was no place for a human.

Sheer cold winds howled as the waves crashed against each other. The sky was pitch black, only illuminated by the bright crash of lightning overhead. The torrential rain pelted the ocean around her, driving the waves higher and making it harder to see. Warring sounds of nature were the only thing the survivor could hear as she kept as still as possible, clinging to floating pieces of driftwood and debris to hide her frail body from the terrors of the deep. 

The survivor was drenched in water, barely breathing as she pressed her body down against the wooden planks as she tried to make herself smaller than she already was. She shivered, the freezing air surrounded her. Thunder rumbled overhead, and her blue eyes narrowed as she adjusted her blurry vision from the chaos around her. She shouldn’t be here. She should be on the island with her friends. She should be safe. She was supposed to be safe. The survivor took in deep breaths, her hands covering her head as she tried her best not to scream in fear. 

Don’t let them find you.

A blinding flash of lightning struck the sinking, burning vessel in front of her. What was once the ship that she and her parents had boarded was now nothing more than a wooden plaything for those monsters. She strained her ears, listening for any screeches or roars that bellowed from the deep, but there were none. Only then did she dare to move. 

She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her eyes were glued to the destroyed ship, the only thing left that provided her a sick sense of relief. It was a reminder of how lonely she was. She hated being alone. She moved the messy pink hair away from her face as tears began to form. Her fingers ran pulled at her hair as her breathing quickened and her vision blurred. 

She could feel her heart pounding out of her chest and her stomach twisted in pain as her head hit the wood below her. She had to be strong. Her parents told her to be strong. She had to be. She was the unshakable Elizabeth Shadow, inheritor of the Shadow Pearl corporation, nothing should scare her. Nothing should scare her. She was a big girl. Big girls shouldn’t panic. This should all be over soon. 

How did this all happen? Just a few hours ago all she saw was the clear, sunny sky and peaceful waves. Lizzie closed her eyes as she took in another deep breath, casting her mind back to the once-calm waves and breezy chill that danced across the ships. She needed to calm down. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

—————

The skies overhead were a beautiful baby blue, lazily hung with small specks of clouds and filled with the songs of migratory birds that passed by. How these birds flew across these long patches of ocean was baffling to her. Lizzie stood on the upper deck of a grand cruise ship, watching the birds fly in the distance. Her hands against the railing as the salty sea air blew through her hair as she cherished the view of the ocean. The ship was a fine white vessel used for transportation and leisure. It had several polished wooden floors with different levels to accommodate all the people on board. The ship rumbled with the vibrations of big engines propelling forward. The ship’s hull was lined in the typical metal plating meant to defend the ship from the sea monsters infesting the ocean. 

It was hard to believe this place was as scary as all the stories her friends had told her. She heard lots of stories of dangerous sea monsters, and while she did fear them as any kid did, the sea didn’t look like what she pictured in her mind. It was just a big pond filled with fish enough to feed the entire human race, all animalkind even! Ponds aren’t scary.

There was no storm. There were no tall sharp rocks to destroy ships. There was not even a hint of mist! Most importantly, there aren’t any vicious monsters coming for their ship. She didn’t think there would be any monster coming close to her ship. With their ship being a transportation boat, they were protected by several hunting ships that formed a circle around the big boat. No monsters would attack them, they’d be fine.

Hunters, Lizzie knew of the profession through Grian. His parents were hunters; trained and ready to kill any sea monster that comes their way. Grian described their ships as being covered in big weaponry and parts of the monsters they killed as trophies. Lizzie stared at the metal walls covered in spikes and harder material, showing some dents and bitemarks as they stuck to the passenger ship’s side. The hunter ships all had huge sails to carry them across the waters and an engine for a speedy getaway, all for the safety of fellow humans. 

Lizzie stared at the hunters’ ships as Grian’s words echoed through her mind. His parents were no longer in this world, but Grian was still excited about becoming a hunter. 

Lizzie could see the passion in Grian’s eyes as he spoke about hunting, full of wonder and amazement as he recollected what his birth parents had told him. Her friends all had different thoughts about hunters. She asked Martyn what being a hunter was like, given he was already training to be one, and he gave her a huge grin as he answered her: It was awesome.

 She remembered the look on Grian’s face as Martyn recounted all the cool tricks his parents had taught him, the sour expression on his face was priceless. He’d said, “How come you get to do all of that? Why can’t I?”

Lizzie visualized Martyn’s cocky smirk as he rustled with Grian’s hair, “That’s because my parents are actual hunters! Yours are smarty-pants hunters, you don’t do these sorts of stuff!”

When she asked Jimmy if he wanted to be a hunter too, his eyes had gotten big and he’d shook his head, “No way! That’s too much for me. I’d rather do what Mum and Dad do, it’s more my speed.”

Lizzie could practically hear the loud laugh Joel made when Jimmy had said that, causing a light chuckle to slip out of her. Joel had wrapped an arm around his taller brother, rolling his eyes, “He’s way too scared to do it. He thinks a monster is gonna come up to eat him or something. We’ll save him though!”

The memory of their shared laughter warmed her heart. She was excited to see them again.

Lizzie and her parents were on their way to meet with her friends and their parents, the adults planning on talking about some sort of deal she didn’t fully grasp yet. Eh, that was adult talk, she didn’t care for it. She wanted to be there to see her friends. 

Lizzie walked along the upper deck, one hand tracing the railing as she stared outward, passing small waves at hunters when they looked her way, smiling and laughing. She heard two voices up ahead, discussing something. There was nothing for her to do there other than to watch the ships go by, so Lizzie abruptly stopped walking to listen in. Two people were leaning by the wall, and to not look like she was eavesdropping Lizzie walked past them and ducked behind the wall. They wouldn’t notice her.

The two people were in a hushed conversation, one figure leaning towards the other as they spoke. It didn't seem to register to either stranger how loud they were being with their whispers. One of the voices was more frantic in their speech, stuttering, “What if they find us?” 

The other voice chuckled, soft thuds indicated they were patting their friend’s shoulder as they sighed, “They won’t. They’re not real.” 

What wasn’t real? 

The first voice spoke up again, their tone unchanging, “B-But they are! If not them, then–” 

The second voice sighed loudly, raising their voice and cutting the other off, “Then nothing, my friend. If monsters try to approach we’ll be protected.” 

The first voice spoke up again, much more quietly and less frantic. It didn’t seem like they were arguing anymore, “It’s not them I’m worried about, it’s–” If they weren’t arguing, Lizzie wanted to know why the first one was so scared.

The second one spoke up again, their tone in a low hiss, “The sea princes don’t exist, mate. They’re fairytales.”

Sea princes? Weren’t those the stories Grian and Martyn used to tell her? Her thoughts were interrupted as a low growl of thunder rumbled above, dark clouds began to form. Uh oh. Best to go downstairs with her parents. She didn’t want to get hit by the rain. Rain was scary. 

Her mind wandered back to the sea princes as she walked to her parents’ room, getting as far from the rain as possible. It was a popular story. As far as she knew, the sea princes were these big and ugly creatures who towered over all of the sea monsters. Mermaids fought them, which made Lizzie interested in the myths.

Lizzie walked down the staircase leading her down to her room. Which one was it? The third floor. It should be there. 

She shook her head, coming back to her thoughts. Mermaids, right. 

Mermaids were a beautiful mix of human and fish, guarding humanity from the evil sea princes as their sworn enemy. People sometimes caught sight of them as they stood on the edge of port towns or sailed on big ships. Lizzie gasped in realization. Big ships just like this one! Maybe she’d get to see a mermaid! Stories said seeing one was a blessing. It would be a magical moment for her to meet one on her very first ship ride!

The other thing was the treasures. The way Martyn described them made them sound so cool. There were ancient totems that could defy death, apples made of pure gold, even tomes and texts that could turn people into gods. Supposedly all those treasures existed somewhere in the ocean, surely giving anyone thoughts of what powers they could have with it. People could live forever, talk to fishes, make plants grow, anything was possible!

Lizzie visualized finding one of the treasures, a great and shiny orb that turned her into an axolotl mermaid queen that could fight off all sorts of danger to protect her friends. To her, it didn’t sound outlandish at all, it sounded cool. A lot of people wanted to find sea prince treasures, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to find it too. All sorts of cool things could be under the ocean, they just needed to look. 

Lizzie peered through a big wall of glass looking in on one of the lower floors. She saw plenty of people sitting on couches and talking. Some of them were noticeably hunters, looking out towards the open sea with weapons hung on their belts and scars marked on their bodies. 

They were fine, they were safe. That one person from earlier was wrong, they were protected from whatever danger came their way. 

She turned away, continuing down the stairs and into the hallways, pulling out a key with a tag of her room number. Three-four-one. It was somewhere down the corridor. She looked at each of the plates by the doors before stopping at one. Three-four-one, that was it! Lizzie inserted the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. She greeted her parents with a smile, “I’m back!”

Lizzie’s father turned and grinned, crouching as his daughter ran up to give him a hug, “How was your little exploration? Find anything cool?” She looked at him with her big eyes, shaking her head. 

The room was spacious, but maybe it was because she was still so small, her parents looked big in the room. They didn’t seem to fit on the bed together, as Lizzie remembered her father offering to sleep on the couch. At the end of the room was a window overlooking the sea, a big bed, and a couch beside it. There was a small sitting area with a couple of bookshelves and complimentary snacks left with a desk. The door to the bathroom was next to the entrance of the room, with a closet off to the side. 

Lizzie sat on the couch, swinging her feet, “Nothing much! I did hear two big kids talk about the sea princes though.” 

Her mother looked up from the bed, closing the book she was reading as her husband sat beside her. The couple shared an amused glance, smiling at each other before looking at their child. Her mother tilted her head, “And you don’t look scared at all! What a big girl you are, Lizzie.” Lizzie giggled, her feet kicking faster. 

Her father sighed loudly, striking a dramatic pose, “Honey, she’s getting so old! We’re getting old!” 

Her mother laughed, rolling her eyes, “Ay, that we are. She’s brave enough to be out on her own, exploring the ship and reporting her findings. I remember how scared you were when we first told you about them,” she sighed, glancing to the side as she chuckled, “You’re growing up so fast.” 

Lizzie stuck her tongue out, furrowing her eyebrows, “But I don’t wanna be old yet! I still–”

Loud, piercing bells began to ring in the distance as the ship made a loud creaking noise and nearly went sideways with a sudden push, sending them sprawling. Lizzie gripped the bed as her parents reoriented themselves. Lizzie’s father approached the window and stuck his head out as her mother motioned for her to come to her. Lizzie shifted on the bed. She didn’t want to move, she just got there! The bed felt comfortable.

Lizzie could hear a low trilling sound from the open window, echoing as glass windows began to crack. The noise vibrated the ship. The bells continued to ring as voices of the hunters rang through the air. There were loads of hunters around the ship. She should be fine. They all should be fine. 

Her father shut the window, turning to his wife and child. His eyes were wide, but he tried to stabilize his breathing, “We have to leave. Now.” 

Her mother nodded as she shot out of bed and hastily gathered her things. Lizzie sat on the bed, shifting around as her parents paced around the room in haste. “Why do we need to leave?” she questioned, “The hunters should be able to stop the monsters!” That was their job, wasn’t it? There were four hunting ships in the area, they should be enough. 

It didn’t stop her father from continuing, “I know they will, but we also need to be protected. We have to stay safe.” 

The waves continued to jostle the ship, the gentle swaying became harsher as some kind of noise escaped from the ocean. Lizzie could hear the muffled sounds of the hunters firing their weapons, but there was no sound of a creature getting hurt. Lizzie’s eyebrows furrowed, “But the hunters–” 

Her mother was the one to cut in this time, carrying bags with some of their clothes hanging loosely out of the top, “Lizzie, no buts. You’re a big girl, but even big girls get scared when the threat is very real.” 

No. Big kids don’t get scared. She won’t be scared. Stories about sea monsters used to frighten her, but not anymore. She’d be brave. 

Lizzie hit her fist against the cushiony bed. Her voice rose as she firmly declared, “I’m not scared!” The light from the window had cut off before either of her parents could say anything in return, tossing the family into the pitch black darkness. 

Lizzie saw her parents walking backwards in fear, staring at the window. Their faces were pale and their eyes widened as they took shaky steps. She watched her parents’ breathing quicken as they sank to their knees. Lizzie cocked her head, raising an eyebrow with a frown, “What’s wrong?” 

Her parents didn’t look at her, staring at the window instead, but her mother spoke, “Lizzie. Walk to us, slowly.” Lizzie had the gut feeling to turn back. She shifted her body, starting to turn, but her mother caught on. “Don’t look behind you. Look at us. Me.” Why not look behind her? What could possibly– another monstrous trill resonated in the air, shaking the ground.

Something was blocking the window. 

Now her mother was staring right at Lizzie, her eyes wide as her breathing became loud and uneven. Lizzie got off the bed, slowly taking small steps before her mother took one second to glance back at the window. 

Lizzie looked behind her.

An eye. A huge one. The white of the eye was a pitch black abyss with a piercing orange and blue iris staring directly at them. The creature’s pupil was large and ice white. A sound emitted from its throat as it rumbled through the structure of the ship. Lizzie could feel it shake the floor beneath her feet, her body shook along with it. 

Time seemed to stop around them as they were locked in a staring match with a monster that could so easily tear them apart. Lizzie’s body shook, her heart was pounding out of her chest as she shakily took a step backwards, away from the eye. The eye moved along with her, as if following Lizzie’s every movement. 

The eye moved in closer as the ship began to tilt. Lizzie and her parents lost their footing, sliding across the floor and hitting the door as the creature made another low trill before a sudden shriek, distant from the ship, broke the air of silence. The white pupil suddenly narrowed into a slit as the massive monster produced an unholy roar that shattered the window. 

The creaking wood of the ship crumbled and cracked, metal bending and twisting before snapping open as water rushed in. Horrified screams and gasps came from the other rooms and were drowned out as the echoing trill resounded through the deep. Lizzie’s parents grabbed her and swam out through the shattered window. The beast was no longer in sight.

Lizzie learned an important thing that day; she didn’t know how to swim. 

Don’t panic. Panicking will make things worse. 

Lizzie could feel her mother’s arm wrap around her, hurriedly placed on a wooden door. Lizzie’s heart pounded out of her chest. Her parents were there, close to her. They weren’t on the door like she was.

Everything became a blur after. 

Rain started to pour. Hunters screamed in fear, “What is that thing?!” before their ships snapped open and bodies fell into the salty sea water below. 

There were people in the water. So many people were in the water. 

Thunder and lightning raged in the sky as the creature’s long tail pierced out of the water from time to time, slowly but surely circling around them. Lizzie didn’t know where the ship was; she’d lost her parents. They’d become separated as chunks of different ships had begun to scatter and crash into the water as two different beasts roared and shrieked. 

Lizzie could hear her parents call out to her. She flailed her arms, “Mom?! Dad?! Where are you?!” She looked around her surroundings in hopes of finding them. Please. She needed to see them again. She looked at the direction she had heard her parents. Where were–

The monster let out a bellowing roar, rattling the water as a gigantic red fin shot up from the depths swiftly knocked Lizzie into the water as it swam past. She was disoriented– where were her parents? She called out to them again. She needed to find them.

“Mom?! Dad?!”

She couldn’t hear their voices anymore.

Lizzie didn’t know where to go. She flailed her arms aimlessly while the cold waters tried to consume her, eventually finding something to desperately latch onto as she struggled to remain afloat. She remembered she had grabbed a wooden wall and stuck to it for dear life. More and more voices were drowned out by the rain. The only thing she could hear over the sound of the burning ships and the angry weather were the monsters. She prayed to whatever god was out there to spare her. She didn’t want to die.

The monsters disappeared, but not for long. They were coming back for her, weren’t they?

Lizzie had been able to wedge herself between two pieces of debris to hide. The monsters didn’t seem to have noticed her. The waves that used to crash against her only pushed her slightly. Lizzie looked up to see the long finned tail of the creatures sink below. 

Why had it been staring at her? Her parents? Was it some kind of sick game? She did not want to play. 

She was alone. 

Everything had been fine until now. Maybe if she never boarded the ship, her parents would be okay. She wanted them here with her. Maybe it was better if her friends visited her instead of the other way around. 

The waves rocked her shelter, as if trying to calm her down. It wasn’t working. 

Lizzie looked up from the piece of wooden wall beneath her, her vision blurry with tears, and saw a lot of the floating debris moving in the same direction. Lizzie wiped the tears away from her eyes as she tried to focus. The… the debris weren’t moving because of the waves. They were moving because the creature was circling them! Lizzie covered her mouth from screaming as a small vortex was created, her head becoming light as she heard the beast roar. 

Stay calm. Inhale. Exhale. 

The spinning got faster, making Lizzie want to puke, but the motions came to an abrupt stop as she was gathered with the other floating debris. Her eyes widened as she heard other people crying out in fear. She wasn’t the only one! There were others who were still alive!

The rain made it hard to see the looming figure rising out of the water before her. She saw faint hints of blue, its chest had stripes of other colors glowed faintly in the darkness. Lizzie heard shouts over the ocean, but the storm and the crashing waves swallowed the noise. She heard a rumble in the water before a second figure appeared, something blurry white and red bursting up. The other beast. There was another one.

What if they were looking for her? 

Lizzie could hear the beasts ‘speak’, grunts and guttural echoes boomed above, she wished she could shut her eyes but they were fixed on the monsters. She didn’t even have a clear look at either one, just knowing one of them was red and the other was blue. She heard something rise from the water as the terrified shrieks of the other people filled the air between rolls of thunder, “P-Please! Spare us! We have families– children to come home to!” 

Lizzie heard a loud crash of water, likely the monster was angry at their response. Did they even understand human speech? She didn’t need to worry about that. 

The air hung silent as thunder echoed. One of the humans began to speak, “Y-Your eye… we apologize for–” The red beast growled. Its sounds were different from the blue one, a rumbling echo instead of a rattling thrill, yet carried the same booming volume. Its tail swished, jostling Lizzie’s hiding spot, unknowingly giving her a better view of the creatures. 

One of the beasts was covered in shiny, golden spikes. Its tail was armored, red with a blue-green tail fin. The other beast’s tail was blue with colorful splotches, its fins were a red sunset-like hue with patterns of flickering stars. She couldn’t see the end of its tail, likely underwater. 

Something that stuck out to her weren’t the colors or the shape of their tails though.

She could be seeing things, but they looked human.

The blue one’s colorful stripes almost looked like tattoos along its back, Lizzie could see red fins coming from its head and she swore it had long teal hair. The red one had pearlescent white hair with brown streaks coming from it, unable to see much else other than that.

Why did they look human?

The men’s screams were tossed upward, the beasts thrashing and moving the debris, along with Lizzie, around. She swore the beasts were laughing, their bellowing unholy roars boomed as Lizzie braced for something. Anything. She was expecting the monsters to end it, to just kill them and leave. 

Yet…

“HUNTERS…” 

Lizzie shut her eyes. There was no way this was real. She had to be dreaming. This was just one bad dream, right?

“...DON’T BELONG HERE.”

It spoke.

Those were human words.

No ordinary beast can just talk, right?

This was all a bad dream. Lizzie just needed to wake up. She covered her ears, blocking out the dozens of screams as they were silenced by the sound of jaws snapping. Her heart began pounding and with one final crash of lightning, she shut her eyes for a long, long time.

—————

“Lizzie?” 

Where was she?

“Lizzie, wake up.” 

Was she dead?

“Are you okay?”

Are her parents alive?

“Lizzie, are you there?” 

Was she back home?

“Please. Wake up, Lizzie.”

…Those were her friends calling her, weren’t they? 

Lizzie shot up, breathing heavily as she grasped her chest. This wasn’t the ocean. It was bright and sunny. She could hear birdsong outside and the gentle brush of leaves against the wind. Sunlight filtered through the window behind her, looking around, she could see the expressions her friends were giving her. 

Joel was right beside Lizzie, clenching his fists with hunched shoulders, his eyes glued on her. Jimmy was on the other side, one of his hands held onto his head, gripping his blonde hair as he leaned over. Grian was beside Jimmy, his wide eyes stared at her as his eyebrows furrowed, biting his lip. 

They were here. She was here with them. Her parents. 

Lizzie took in a deep breath, “Where are my parents?” 

The three brothers shared a glance, exchanging mini expressions until Joel nodded, placing his hand on the bed as an offering. Lizzie placed her hand on top of his. Joel glanced at the floor as he sighed, “They’re… they’re.. How do I phrase this?” Joel’s eyes couldn’t meet hers. They were what? What happened? 

Lizzie glanced at Grian and Jimmy, who kept their heads low. Why was everyone acting so weird? Lizzie’s grip on Joel tightened as an air of silence washed over them. 

“Everyone was-.” 

His voice trailed off. Silence. If it weren’t for the birdsong outside, the silence would have been deafening. He didn’t finish his sentence. That only meant one thing, right? They were gone. Dead. Not in this world anymore. The last thing she did was be a disobedient child. She was the worst. Lizzie felt tears begin to well up in her eyes, her hands covered her face as she screamed. She screamed so loudly the brothers flinched, Lizzie’s chest heaving as she sobbed.

She wanted her parents.

She needed her parents.

This wasn’t fair.

Lizzie’s hands slumped on her sides as she laid on the bed. This can’t be real. She felt Joel hold her hand as he looked at her.

Joel rubbed his thumb over Lizzie’s hand as she gripped it tight. “But you survived. It’s… a lot to take in, but I promise, we’ll be there for you.” Joel looked back at her with a smile, tilting his head. 

Grian stood up from his chair, slamming his hands on the sheets, “We’ll find out what beast did it, and tear its heart out!” Grian’s enthusiasm for being a hunter was strong, surprising her now with how intense his gaze was, affirming his resolve. Maybe it was because his birth parents died, he felt something new towards Lizzie. She decided not to think about it. 

Jimmy placed a hand on her shoulder, “You need time to calm down, Liz. However long it takes, we’ll be there.” Jimmy was always the butt of the joke, always made dumb little quips, but he was an amazing friend. She was glad she met all of them. They were her best friends. She couldn’t imagine facing life without them. All of them.

Lizzie smiled, looking at all three as tears formed in her eyes, not of sadness, but relief, “...Thank you.” 

—————

She never did find out what beasts took her parents that day, but she would learn it eventually. Lizzie breathed the fresh salty air, it was just as she remembered. The waves rippled past the ship, birds called in the open air. All she needed now was time. Time to recover, time to heal. Time to figure out the rest of her life. She held the steering wheel firmly as she exhaled, closing her eyes. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and opened her eyes to see Joel with his hand on her shoulder, their engagement ring glistening in the sunlight.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, “Any attacks before we charter home?” She could see a glint in Joel’s eyes as he smirked.

Joel took his hand off of Lizzie’s shoulder and shoved it into his pocket, “Maybe. Let’s have one last hurrah before we head home, sounds good?” The mischievousness in his eyes faded as he tilted his head. Lizzie adored how much he cared about her. She’d be fine. She felt reassured with everyone on board supporting her recovery. She gave Joel a small kiss on the lips.

“Aye, captain. Love you.”

But maybe, maybe it was better to leave some mysteries unsolved.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Twelve - Midnight piano

Smutty Start

Your lips parted in a silent scream as he buried himself deep inside of you. Both of you were still covered in blood, and yet that wasn't even the vase of your hunger any more. Lestat licked along your jaw, clearing some of the red, but not much. He loved how it looked on you.

You gasp loudly in his ear and he grins. He has you right where he wants you. His desire is insatiable.

With every sharp thrust of his hips you feel yourself losing concentration. All you can feel is him. You want to hold him, taste him, feel him, be one with him.

Lestat licks along your neck and grunts heavily in your ear. You feel perfect against his body. Everything was perfect. You're perfect.

It's been a long time since Lestat last felt like this.

He kisses you passionately and drapes himself over your body. You open your eyes and stare at his handsome face. His hair hangs down like a curtain around him, his lips are curled into a grin.

“Perfect,” he whispers.

You smile and pull him down into another kiss. Your hands wrap securely around his neck. Lestat gives in and accepts your embrace. He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling you. You smell like sex. It's delicious.

He rolls his hips again, slowly. He silences your moan with a kiss, nibbling at your bottom lip as he does so. He's enjoying all the sounds you're making, but he also has a desire to tease you, too.

“Lestat,” you groan his name in a low voice.

“Oui, amour?” He smirks.

You smile up at him, fluttering your eyelashes. He chuckles, amused by your innocent act. However, he's so distracted by your pretty face that when you get the jump on him and swap positions with him, he looks up at you surprised.

You roll your hips and leave him speechless. His long nails scratch along your skin, leaving you aching for more. You ride him with a smile upon your lips, desire running through your veins.

No one would have thought you had just killed 2 people and were having sex because of how hot it was.

Your life has turned upside down.

Lestat was twirling you around the dance floor of the club he had brought you to. The upbeat music wasn't to his tastes, but with a beautiful woman dancing in his arms, how could he resist?

His classical heart yearned to hear you play your piano for him, for it had been a while since he last got to hear your sweet music, but for now he could endure this too fast beat.

You were smiling and laughing as he pulled you in close. He loved the way your eyes lit up as you danced. The smile on your lips should forever belong there. The skirt of the dress he chose for you swishes around your legs with every spin and bounce. You were a delight.

You hoped the night would never end, but you knew the sun would have to rise.

However, there were things other than the sun that could interrupt your night. A certain someone who you had hoped to forget. The call of your name has you turning around to see who wad there.

Eleanor.

Lestat's arm instantly comes to settle around your waist. His gaze is sharp and alert. He's watching her closely.

“Oh, didn't expect to see you here,” you say, wishing to be anywhere else right now.

“Just making the most of my stay here.” 

You offer her friendly smile.

“No one's seen you for a little while,” she comments. “I was with Amelie-”

“You were with Amelie?” You ask sharply. Lestat squeezes your hip gently with his hand. Calm down.

“Yes… She mentioned she hadn't seen you in a few days.”

“I've been busy,” you replied, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Doing what?” 

You don't like the way she asks that. The way she's looking at you sets on edge for some reason. You try and focus on her mind, needing to know what she wants.

‘She must have been drinking. She's acting strange.’

She doesn't suspect anything else, so you accept her thoughts. You straighten up and hold your head up high. “Makijg music,” you say.

“Oh? So, you're still playing at the theater?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?” You ask. Lestat gives you another warning with his hand.

“Others suspect your sponsor here is whisking you away to make you famous.” She eyes Lestat again. The vampire grins at her.

“This is my home,” you state.

“For now. You might change your mind.”

The two of you stare at each other. She's making you uncomfortable with her questions. You can't help thinking she's dogging for something, but perhaps yours the one overthinking.

“I'll be there on Friday.”

Eleanor stares at you. You can't pick up on anymore of her thoughts. Whatever she's doing, she really is keeping it to herself. Not even a whisper.

“Enjoy your night.” She walks away.

Lestat pulls you into his arms and kisses you softly. “Pay the woman no mind. She simply does not like me.”

“She's getting on my nerves. Why is she even still here? The police found nothing.” You sigh.

Lestat shrugs and brushes some hair behind your ear. “Who cares? Let us enjoy our night, amour.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and smile again. Yeah, you can forget all about her. You have everything you want and need right here.

Friday. An hour after the sun has set. You're in your dressing room with Lestat. You're sitting on your vanity table. Lestat is standing between your legs kissing you passionately against your mirror.

There's a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you sigh. Lestat doesn't pull away, he just holds you against his chest and nuzzles your temple with his nose. He inhales sharply. You're wearing the perfume he bought you on the way here. You smell divine.

Jack enters. He seems surprised to see Lestat in here too. “I've just seen you requested an extra fifteen minutes on stage.”

“Yes,” you smile at him.

“Can I ask why?”

Lestat nips your ear gently and you giggle softly. You give him an affectionate warning glare. He just grins.

“I have a special performance planned. I need the extra time.” 

Jack looks between you and the man wrapped around you. Everyone seems to be on edge with Lestat around. It's almost amusing.

“Alright… I'll see if the dancers are okay delaying their performance for you.”

“Thank you, Jack,” you smile at him.

Jack exits the room. You can sense his confusion and unease on the way out. Lestat chuckles in your ear and then goes back to kissing you.

Your lover is reluctant to leave you when the show starts, but he goes off to his box as told. You get ready for the show.

Wearing your ruby necklace and lipstick to match, you head out to the wings. Amelie is there waiting. She does a double take when you arrive. She looks you up and down.

“What?” You ask.

“You look… good.”

You smile. “I feel good.” In fact, you've never felt better.

“Jack said you asked for extra time. Asked if we could delay the dance routine. You never ask for more time.”

“Tonight's special is all.”

Amelie looks at you for a good few moments before returning her gaze to the stage. “Are you okay?” She asks out of the blue.

“Yeah, why?” You eye her.

“Something seems different about you.”

You smile. “I've found my purpose, that's all.”

Amelie doesn't question what you mean by that. She watches you walk onto the stage after your name is called. You walked with a whole.new confident aura about you.

You take a bow to your captive audience. Soft muttering can be heard in the room, but with your sharp new hearing you can hear just fine.

‘My goodness, she's beautiful.’

‘Who is that?’

‘This doesn't seem like the same pianist I saw last time.’

You smile and take your seat at the bench. The room goes quiet. They sit, watch, and wait.

You play.

Lestat leans forward in his box, completely enamored by you. He cannot tear away his eyes. You're a vision. His ears are blessed by your music. All of this is new. No one had heard any of these pieces before. You were blessing your audience with a new era of your talent.

Lestat was your sole inspiration. Every note you played, you played for him. 

Amelie watched from the wings in surprise. This music was unlike anything she had ever heard you play. She had no idea what had been going on with you. She had stopped at your apartment a couple of times, but you hadn't been there. Whatever it was you were doing, it had led to this.

Murmurs erupted quietly among the audience. They were in awe. Your music was your magic. It was casting a spell over each and every one of them.

You felt alive.

A whole 45 minutes passed with the entire room hooked onto every note you played. You were their master in command. You wanted them to listen and they did. 

Lestat smiled proudly from his box.

Once you finished your last piece, Lestat was the first to stand and applaud. Everyone else copied him within seconds. You smiled as you stood from your piano and took a bow.

You had put on the performance of a lifetime.

As soon as you were backstage once again, Amelie came up to you. She grasped your arm gently and smiled. “Goodness! Everyone was standing. That was incredible.”

You smile proudly.

“You've been busy writing music,” she points out.

“Yes, well, I've had a lot of inspiration. Music comes to me as naturally as…” You were going to say breathing. “Walking,” you correct yourself.

“You're amazing.” Amelie looks at you with so much awe in her gaze.

“Mon amour.”

Both of you turn to see Lestat walking towards you. You smile and wrap your arms around him. Lestat brings you close to his chest and nips at your ear playfully.

“What did you think?” You ask him.

“There are no words.” He grins. “You have blown them all away.”

You grin. “I felt… powerful.”

Lestat grins. “Good.”

Amelie watches you both, curious by this interaction. It is clear to her that you and Lestat have certainly become… more. She notices the way his hand trails low on your hip and the way his eyes stare into you intensely.

“So, that's where you've been?” She asks. You look at her. “With him.”

“Yes.” You turn to face her. Lestat wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder. “Problem?”

“No.”

You both look at each for a moment and then she smiles. You return the smile. You want to go over and give her a hug, but a voice calls out and stops you.

“I think drinks are in order.” You all turn to see Eleanor standing there off to the side. She wears a smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

“Oh yes!” Amelie cheers.

“What do you say, amour? Shall we celebrate?” Lestat grins again.

“Oui.” You smile and look at Eleanor. “A splendid idea.”

Eleanor chuckles softly and walks away. You watch her go.

She was still here. Why?

Lestat brushes some hair out of your face and kisses down your neck. He's trying to distract you. It's working.

Amelie has to break the moment. Otherwise, you'd both start getting frisky then and there. Eleanor be damned.

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