#but is pivotal to how he approaches the world

[faulty-heat-vents]

(ooc: long and kinda dark backstory comic below cut, mind the tw tags)

//You aren't him. Stop living in his shadow.

//I know I'm not him. I'll never live up to whatever they wanted from me.

//You've been killed, and you came back. That's more than he ever did.

//...I guess that's a good point. Not often you get an uneven k/d.

//Not often you get a second chance to be yourself. Now you have me, and nobody will take that chance from you again.

//…thanks, Thermie.

//Reciprocated, Pilot.

[tteotlma]

Panic and Proximity

-- Trapped with Logan in a safe room, your biggest weakness reveals itself.

(Wolverine/Reader) 1.7kw

a/n: it's been like six years since i posted a fic.. smth short and sweet

TW: anxiety, panic attack, mentions of vomit, close spaces, forced proximity(?), CLAUSTROPHOBIA, tight spaces

"Bobby!" you yell over the deafening roar. You dig your heels into the dirt, pivoting to run towards your friend. A Sentinel has Bobby pinned, ice against ice. Suddenly, the ground opens beneath him, swallowing him whole. Your heart leaps into your throat, but in the next instant, the sky above the massive monster splits open. Bobby drops out, ready to swing full throttle.

You glance back to see Kitty sprinting towards you, Logan not far behind.

"No, run!" she screams, grabbing your arm as you both dash into the building.

"But Bobby—" you start, turning to look back at your friend. He seems to be holding his own, but for how long?

"It's okay, he's coming," Kitty pants as she phases you through industrial shelving.

Logan's gruff voice surprises you. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm gonna get him," Kitty replies, pulling you deeper into the building. "I just need to make sure you guys are safe first."

"And how are you gonna do that?" you ask, breathless. Your feet pound the floor in rhythm with theirs, legs aching. Only the adrenaline coursing through your veins keeps you going. 

"This way," Kitty hisses, yanking you towards a narrow corridor. The building's layout becomes a maze of twisting hallways and locked doors. Alarms blare, red emergency lights casting eerie shadows.

Logan sniffs the air. "We've got company. Multiple hostiles, closing in fast."

"There's a safe room," Kitty says, her voice strained. "It's small, but it'll have to do."

Your stomach tightens at the word 'small'. "How small are we talking?"

She doesn't answer, instead phasing through another wall, pulling you along. You emerge into a dim, cluttered storage area. At the far end, a heavy metal door stands ajar.

"In there. Now!" Logan growls, glancing behind you.

The thundering footsteps of your pursuers grow louder. Your heart races as you approach the door, catching a glimpse of the cramped space beyond. It's barely larger than a closet.

Kitty pushes you forward. "You don't have a choice. Get in!"

You hesitate, your breath catching in your throat. The walls seem to close in already, even from outside. But the sound of gunfire erupting behind you slowly convinces you to enter, but not fast enough. Kitty grabs both you and Logan and before you can protest, she phases you through the thick steel door. 

“Don’t go anywhere.” Kitty demands before she walks through the other side of the closet just as quickly as she put you in here. 

A small “no” escapes your lips as you reach out to touch the walls. You try to find any crevice to show your not completely shut off from everything but its no use, it’s too dark and from what your fingers can feel there’s nothing. The steel is stainless, and smooth. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, suddenly becoming too aware of your heart beating in your chest, and you suddenly feel lightheaded. You try and catch your breath but you can’t, you try and breathe but your lungs cant open enough as it hits you, your world shrinks to the size of a coffin. You try to take a deep breath, but you keep coming short.

"You okay?" Kitty whispers, her voice too close in the blackness.

You want to answer, to say you're fine, but the words stick in your throat. The walls are too close, the air too thin. You're trapped, and panic begins to claw its way up from your chest.

You try to soothe yourself, eyes squeezed shut, desperately imagining a vast field. Hoping to enhance the illusion, you peel your hands from the walls. Suddenly, a loud boom shakes the room, steel groaning around you. Logan tenses beside you, a stark reminder that danger still lurks beyond your confined space.

Your breathing becomes more erratic. Sweat beads on your forehead as the small space seems to shrink even further. Your fingers tingle, and a wave of nausea hits you.

"It's okay, it's okay," you mutter, but the words sound hollow even to your own ears. You take a step back, trying to escape the wall, only to collide with Logan's chest. He finally notices your distress.

"Hey, you alright?" He shifts, touching you lightly. You flinch away instinctively.

"Sorry," you pant. "Would now be a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?" You attempt a chuckle, hands fumbling to steady yourself. Eyes clenched shut, you feel saliva pooling in your mouth. "I think I'm gonna barf," you whisper.

"Hey, hey!" Logan turns you around to face him. "Look at me." You briefly open your eyes, making out only his shadowy form, hunched over. You quickly shut them again.

"Are you hunching over because the ceiling's too short?" you ask, still dizzy. Your fingertips find his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his solid torso. He shifts, followed by a soft thud.

"No," he says.

"You're lying." You clench your hand, pressing your fist against his stomach. The rhythm of his breathing slowly anchors you, pulling you back to reality.

"Maybe, but that's not important," he says, his voice closer than before. You feel him shift, moving nearer.

Your fist sinks deeper into the muscle of his stomach as his heavy hands rest on your shoulders, grounding you.

"Why are you just saying something now?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I-it never seemed to matter," your voice shakes, your other hand wrapping around his forearm for support. "Until now." You feel tears forming in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry."

"Oh," you hear him breathe out softly. "Oh, Y/N." He sighs, a mix of concern and understanding in his tone.

Suddenly, his arms envelop you, cradling your head against his chest. The gesture, though meant to comfort, unfortunately intensifies your panic. Your breath hitches as the feeling of being trapped increases, despite the warmth of his embrace. You try to pull away but his arms don’t budge. 

Your breathing becomes more rapid against Logan's chest. The warmth of his embrace, meant to comfort, instead fuels your panic. "I can't—" you gasp, your fingers clawing at his shirt. "It's too tight, too close."

He cuts you off, shushing you. 

“Yes, you can.” He reassures you, his hand stroking your head.

"Listen to me," Logan says firmly, his gruff voice softening with an unexpected gentleness. "We're gonna try something. Focus on my voice and breathe with me. Can you do that?"

You manage a small nod against his chest, your forehead pressed against the rough fabric of his shirt. Logan must feel the slight movement because he shifts, adjusting his stance to better support you.

"Good," he murmurs, the word rumbling through his chest. "Now, feel my breathing. Try to match it."

Logan takes a deep, deliberate breath. You feel his chest expand against you, the steady rise and fall a stark contrast to your own erratic gasps. He holds you close, one hand splayed across your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck. His calloused fingers are surprisingly gentle, grounding you in the moment.

"In through your nose," he instructs, his voice low and measured. You struggle to comply, your breath hitching. "That's it," he encourages. "Now hold it for a moment."

You feel the pause in his chest's movement, a moment of stillness in the chaotic swirl of your thoughts. 

"Now out through your mouth," Logan continues, his own exhale warm against the top of your head. "Slow and steady."

As you attempt to follow his lead, you become acutely aware of other sensations: the faint scent of cigar smoke clinging to Logan's shirt, the steady thud of his heartbeat against your ear, the warmth of his body contrasting with the cool metal walls surrounding you.

"Again," Logan says softly. "In... hold... and out. You're doing great, kid."

Gradually, your breathing begins to sync with his. The vice-like grip of panic on your chest starts to loosen, ever so slightly. In this small, dark space, Logan's presence becomes an anchor, a point of focus beyond the suffocating walls.

"That's it," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice. "Just keep breathing with me. We'll get through this together."

You nod, one hundred percent sure that if you were to talk right now, it wouldn't be heard. Closing your eyes, you lean more of your weight against Logan. You take in his scent—a mix of cigar smoke, leather, and something uniquely him—his warmth seeping into you, his solid presence anchoring you in the moment. You melt into him, relishing the feel of his muscular body against yours.

In this intimate moment, your mind drifts to all the times you've admired Logan from afar. He's always been the ruggedly handsome mentor, the forbidden fruit that made your heart race during training sessions. You've caught his lingering glances, felt the electricity when his hand corrected your stance, noticed how his eyes seemed to soften when they landed on you.

There's always been something there, simmering beneath the surface. An unspoken connection, a tension that neither of you dared to acknowledge. You've told yourself it was just a silly crush, that Logan saw you as nothing more than a student. But the gentleness in his touch now, the care in his voice—it speaks of something deeper.

This moment, trapped in this tiny space, feels like a test of your limits. The boundaries between mentor and student, between longing and reality, seem to blur. Your racing heart isn't just from claustrophobia anymore, and you're certain Logan can feel it.

But now isn't the time for these thoughts. The danger lurking outside this safe room, the mission at hand—it all comes rushing back. You know you should pull away, regain your composure, focus on the task at hand. Yet, for just a few more seconds, you allow yourself to stay in Logan's embrace, drawing strength from him in more ways than one.

As your breathing finally steadies, you reluctantly begin to pull back, ready to face whatever comes next. But not before you catch a glimpse of something in Logan's eyes—concern, certainly, but also a flicker of something else. Something that makes your breath catch for an entirely different reason, you realize you're still pressed against Logan's chest. You step back slightly, looking up at him in the dim light.

"I... Thank you, Logan. I don't know what I would've done if..."

He cuts you off with a gentle squeeze of your shoulder. "We all have our demons, kid. The trick is not letting them win." His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. "You did good."

The moment is interrupted by another distant explosion, reminding you both of the pressing danger.

[choerypetal]

Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow

summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.

I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!

How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you. 

You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse. 

During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal. 

You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay. 

After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.

You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time. 

Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it. 

Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual. 

The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right. 

When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out. 

Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes. 

He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that." 

"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is. 

You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along. 

Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies. 

The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year. 

According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you. 

Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers. 

The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers. 

It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered. 

True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red. 

Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!" 

Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance. 

The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to." 

That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.

"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."

Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident. 

By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving. 

On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say. 

How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon. 

"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.

"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."

"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere. 

"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning. 

And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem. 

Y/N, Snow.

[oatmealaddiction]

Rant time, but like, people who complain about the diamonds in Steven Universe getting "redeemed" and "facing no consequences" like, why did you ever think the diamonds getting destroyed was on the table as an option? Why did everyone think the show was going to end with Steven fighting and killing the diamonds, or the universe dolling out some Hayes Code Karma Violence like a giant rock falling on them at the last second? Like I guess I understand the criticism in theory that Steven Universe's metaphor for the diamonds as toxic family members falls apart when you consider they're crimes as space monarchs doing a colonialism, but Steven isn't The Avatar. At no point in the show does he even have the power to doll out the punishment you guys want.

Steven *does* try to fight the diamonds, and he gets his ass kicked. He gets smashed under his own shield and knocked out. His mom forms an entire army to fight them and LOSES and has almost all of her friends corrupted by them. The Diamonds are bigger, badder and stronger than The Crystal Gems (kind of like how adults are bigger and stronger than children.) So instead, he reveals his identity as Pink and the Diamonds immediately stop trying to kill him and the show instead pivots to be about political diplomacy. He doesn't like the diamonds, by the time Future rolls around we find out that he hates them and has private thoughts about killing them even now that that they don't pose any threat. But during the show he's powerless and so instead, talking to them and trying to change their mind is just a practical option because fighting hasn't worked. Because in the real world, there are times you will be outmatched and violence won't be the answer—even if the people hurting you probably do deserve violence.

And the diamonds aren't "redeemed," they just change their mind. They just decide that they want to keep Pink in their lives, so they begin to take accountability and undo the damage that they caused with their war, and presumably will spend the next thousands of years of their lives dismantling their own empire. And again, Steven Universe Future discusses the discomfort and the downside of this approach, that even if it's better and harm is actively being undone, the diamonds can't resolve all the harm they've done and Steven largely doesn't feel like he's gotten justice for what they did to him and his mother—much less the universe. So I don't get where anyone gets off saying this story is irresponsible or saying you should just forgive bad people. I don't see that anywhere in the story. The theme of Universe has always been the necessity of change, and so it makes sense that the villains aren't forgiven or revealed to be good people—but that they just change.

[xielianlover2]

I want to talk about unconditional forgiveness and how crucial it is for Xie Lian to have someone who offers it to him with no strings attached.

Throughout Xie Lian's life, he experiences numerous falls from grace, each one more devastating than the last. He goes from being a beloved crown prince and a renowned god to a figure of scorn and bad luck. The weight of his past and the suffering he has endured often make him question his own worthiness and ability to protect others.

Which is why, for Xie Lian, Hua Cheng's forgiveness is a lifeline. Knowing that there is someone who believes in him, no matter what, allows Xie Lian to forgive himself and move forward. In a world where divine beings are often portrayed as infallible, we see by the end, that pretty much every god has their own flaws and that even those with immense power are not immune to making grievous errors in judgment.

I think Hua Cheng’s forgiveness also symbolizes a deeper, transformative love. It’s a love that goes beyond mere acceptance; it’s a commitment, a promise, a vow to stand by Xie Lian no matter what, and that's what makes his love so rare and beautiful. It's such a stark contrast to the judgment Xie Lian has faced from his people and other gods. While his own friends basically turned their backs on him, Hua Cheng remained his most loyal and devoted believer. His cheerleader, for a lack of better words. Hua Cheng embodies the truest form of compassion– understanding and embracing someone wholly.

Hua Cheng's love and acceptance allow Xie Lian to feel seen and understood in a way that no one else has ever provided. This kind of forgiveness is not about overlooking mistakes or pretending they didn't happen; rather, it's about recognizing the entirety of a person's journey and choosing to embrace them regardless.

Hua Cheng's acceptance allows Xie Lian to be vulnerable about his deepest fears and struggles. It also gives him the ability to ask for something he needs for himself:

"All right... don't say any more. I get it... but... but don't be like this, all right? San Lang? I... I've borrowed so much spiritual power from you that I haven't repaid. And I'm not done telling you all the things that I wanted to say; there's still so much. It's been so long since anyone listened to me talk. Won't you stay? Don't.. don't do this. I won't be able to take it. Twice, it's happened twice already-I really don't want there to be a third time!"

In this moment, Xie Lian’s plea reveals how extremely isolating his life has been. He has been perpetually misunderstood, and I believe that even before his first ascension, he has always felt profoundly alone. Throughout his life, Xie Lian has been surrounded by people who either see him through the lens of his past or view him as a mere symbol; a divine god, so therefore flawless and someone beyond approach. It strips away his humanity and the complexities of his true self, unable to be seen as a person with real feelings and imperfections. Even his Feng Xin and Mu Qing put him up in a pedestal, and no matter what happened, no matter how understandable it was, everyone still left him in the end.

Then, to have someone say they understand his everything, from his wisdom to his foolishness, and then also wholeheartedly support him and unconditionally love him? That they never, ever left him, that they've always been there, constant and unchanging in their love, in their devotion? That must have felt life-changing to him. Something groundbreaking and pivotal.

He is essentially begging for the one person who understands him completely—and who accepts him unconditionally despite everything—not to leave him. When Xie Lian begs Hua Cheng to stay, it is not just a request for physical presence but a desperate need for emotional reassurance and acceptance. For Hua Cheng is Xie Lian's safe haven where he can express his deepest fears and unspoken desires, a place of solace and affirmation that he has long been missing from everyone else.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#35: The Buildup (1.04)

gif cred: @perryabbott

This moment. This moment. This moment. Where to even begin? Let's just start by saying - hottest scene ever. 🔥❤️‍🔥🔥 When Richonne get back to that apartment there’s a whole stretch where they don’t do any talking...but yet they still have some very riveting communication 👌🏽...

They seriously tried to send me up into the afterlife with this whole moment, but it’s okay, I forgive them and thank them profusely. 😋

Y'all, I adore the way this pivotal, palpable, and incredible depiction of intimacy plays out. And the mind of Danai to turn both this buildup moment here and the love-making scene into something so deep and layered. Genius. 👏🏽👑

Rick and Michonne returning to this level of intimacy with each other for the first time in almost eight years was already going to make it pertinent to the plot and a purposeful development in the story - but for Danai to be of the mindset that she didn’t just want to stop at pertinent but instead communicate something profound and emotionally complex with Richonne's lovemaking moment. She deserves every flower for the thoughtfulness put into this. 💐

And TOWL in general was Andy and Danai getting to display their talent and chemistry to the max but from this moment on they broke the damn dial with the way they turned the volume all the way up on their talent and chemistry. 🙌🏽 🔉

source: @ririchonne

Genuinely, not even being hyperbolic, what was captured in the following passionate events feels out of this world and so of course when reveling over it I have to be...

This whole buildup moment in the apartment before Richonne heads to the bed is the hottest part for me. 🔥 The amount of tension and desire that they convey is crazy good. Richonne's hunger for each other is just visceral and it's like you can almost tangibly feel the way they're burning up for each other. ❤️‍🔥

So Rick and Michonne make it back to the apartment and we know adrenaline rushes really help set the mood for Richonne so the sexual tension in the air is thick immediately.

They’re both just breathing hard and then the temp controller chimes in to welcome them home again which I love. 😊 And this time they really are about to come home to each other in a sense.

gif cred: @nat111love

Like Michonne came really close to leaving but now that events have led them right back to each other in this apartment I feel like the thermostat is trying to get Richonne's attention like ‘hello, y’all are home to each other.’

Michonne is standing a bit ahead of Rick and looking around...and Rick ain’t looking anywhere but at her. Like homeboy is fixated. I feel like even if a dang meteor could be seen plummeting from that big window Rick wouldn’t peel his eyes off Michonne in this moment. 😋

I think after coming close to losing her several times in the last hour he’s a bit more aware of how much he needs to appreciate that she’s here with him. 

Michonne lifts up her sleeve a little because I think she can fully sense this hungry man behind her and what's on his mind (and her mind too.👌🏽)

gif cred: @nat111love

And the temp controller says, “Temperature control malfunction” and that’s probably because the temperature is already record levels of hot with Richonne's sexual tension permeating the air like this lol. 🥵

Rick slowly approaches her and Michonne slowly turns to him as they get up close and personal. The way Richonne can communicate without words, I feel like a whole lot gets said in their eye contact and kisses during this wordless sequence. 

gif cred: @nat111love

Also, I like how this scene parallels when Rick and Michonne were first in front of each other with the PRB earlier in this episode.

During that PRB moment, Rick was looking at Michonne like 'I know what we want to do but we can’t. ' And then now here when they've returned to the apartment he’s looking at her like 'I know what we want to do and we must.' They're starving and they can’t resist anymore.

Honestly, whenever Rick is within kissing distance from Michonne he looks like her presence consumes his mind and those inner magnets make it near impossible to not just lean in every time.

Also, I always get reflective of Richonne's overall journey and I just love how Rick and Michonne really went from this to this.

A love story for the ages. 🤩

So Rick looks down, mouth all open, and just again transfixed as he slowly reaches out his hand to touch her. One thing I love about this buildup moment is the slowness of everything. 😊 Like every movement takes its time.

And it makes sense that Rick is moving at a slower pace here because he’s trying to see if it’s okay to initiate all this after everything they just went through. But while the movement is slow, his heart looks like it's racing rapidly as he becomes pretty much intoxicated by her.

gif cred: @nat111love

...And Michonne can’t resist, y’all. 🤭 Like she knows she’s technically supposed to still be mad at Rick after the awful things he’s said but it quickly becomes clear that she misses him even more than she’s mad at him. 🥲

gif cred: @nat111love

And she misses all of him, including the parts she has yet to reunite with…but that’s soon about to change.

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick slowly puts his hand on her arm and she doesn’t pull away. And then Rick looks in her eyes like he hasn’t had a good glass of water in 1000 years and Michonne is the only woman that can quench him. Like the yearning in his look was really something.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then, y’all I thought it was laundry day the way our girl Michonne proceeds to fold. 😋 And of course, she folds. That's her baby and the love of her life and she hasn’t been able to be with him like this in years so...

Before Rick leans in for the first kiss, he’s already in the process of winning her over cuz she leans in a little first basically letting him know she does want this. It was giving magnets when she did that. 🧲👌🏽 

And her super subtle lean-in is all Rick needs to finally fully lean in and kiss her and I love Richonne’s slow single kisses. 😊 So far in TOWL they’ve been understandably ravenously making out and so this moment stands out for how much they let each kiss breathe a little. It’s so good.

gif cred: @nat111love

But also y’all, when I first watched this, knowing this is def building up to their first TOWL sex scene, I was sounding a lot like Nat. Cuz I was looking at Michonne like, “Sis...

I just wanted to be sure Michonne was going to be making love with her Rick and not the Sergeant Major who's been saying hurtful things and still hasn't asked anything about RJ.

Plus, I had a feeling Rick still had a little audacity left in his system and wasn’t yet going to agree to go home with her. (And that ended up being correct 🙃)…But look, it’s been a long time and so Michonne was like we’ll address all that later. 😅

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

So Rick kisses her once and then leans to the other side as Michonne puts her hand on his face, letting Rick know she doesn't want him to stop. They kiss a second time with a little more lingering on that kiss as things slowly but surely ramp up.

When they pull away Michonne looks at him like she maybe has 1% left in her that remembers she’s still supposed to be mad. The other 99% of her just longs for him.

gif cred: @msanonships

And then that 1% disappears into thin air during this next kiss and it’s my favorite part. 😊

Cuz Rick proves that it may have been some years but he still knows his wife and knows what gets her going because, while they don’t fully show it, you can tell that he definitely seems to have reached down to her derrière and that’ll do it for her, honey. 😋

gif cred: @fishalthor

Cuz when he does that and pulls her in closer to him, he has Michonne inhaling hard and fully leaning into that third hungry kiss. At that moment I was like...annnnd he got her. He got her and she ain’t mad no more. It worked like he knew it would. 😊

It’s also probably his first time even really being able to touch her like that since again those layers of clothing in previous eps were sort of a barrier.

There seems to be a consistent thing set up that her grabbing his hair gets him activated and as her husband, he definitely knows that grabbing her backside gets her activated...and him too lol. I think Michonne’s presence in general just gets Rick activated. Every part of her is a feast to him. 👌🏽

gif cred: @msanonships

And that last kiss just felt like they were about as ready to be intimate as they've ever been. After all that pulling each other closer in the previous kisses of this miniseries, this was the moment of them wanting to be as physically connected as possible and now they finally had the space to be.

Interestingly, they film a lot of this kissing moment where you mostly see Michonne’s response to Rick. I think that’s because she’s the one having to make the decision right now on whether she’ll let him in after everything he's said and done. And um I think her decision is clear.

gif cred: @msanonships

It's great how Rick is the one person who can make Michonne let go and get fully lost in the moment no matter what else is going on. And you know she has that same effect on Rick too. 👌🏽

I love how locked in they both get with that third kiss and how they turn things up a notch with it.

Those three kisses were communication. And, on top of them both communicating 'I need you and want you bad' in each kiss, the way I interpret the wordless conversation is that the first kiss was like Rick expressing, “I’m glad you’re okay and that you’re back” after the whole Michonne walking out and then later getting trapped by that chandelier stuff.

gif cred: @nat111love

Then that second kiss felt like Rick expressing, "I'm sorry" and Michonne receives that unspoken apology even tho when she looks at him there's a part of her that feels like there's still a lot for them to address and resolve.

gif cred: @lousolversons

And then y'all, to me Rick's little reach down with the third kiss was him saying, “Can I make it up to you?” And honey, Michonne's response said she'll definitely let him.

gif cred: @lousolversons

So then they really want to turn it up a notch when Rick proceeds to pick Michonne up. And clearly he’s done this before because Michonne is ready for it, and I love the way they just seamlessly transition into this. 😍

One thing I never questioned is if Rick would feel anxious about loving on Michonne with one hand. I knew that man would be like as long as I’m breathing that’s all I need to find a way.

gif cred: @nat111love

So Rick picks her up with ease and he’s basically just like 'alright you’re coming with me' and Michonne is like yes I am lol. And I also adore how even once he picks her up they immediately go right back to passionately kissing. The way these two fervidly desire each other is always 👩🏽‍🍳💋.

And I, of course, have to reflect on the overall journey once more because I just love that we went from Rick picking Michonne up on Day One of meeting each other as strangers, to now Rick picking Michonne up as husband and wife ready and eager to express their love in a way they haven't been able to in a long time.

gif cred: thewalkingdeadgifs/@msanonships

Seeing Rick and Michonne just get to operate fully in their husband and wife energy here was great to see. 👏🏽 They crave each other deeply and this scene captured that perfectly. ❤️‍🔥

The way their electrifying kisses slowly ramped up, it was clear that now that Rick and Michonne finally had the chance to reconnect in a way that they hadn't been able to with each other, nor allowed themselves to with anyone else, for several years, there was no way they were gonna just stop at these kisses here.

gif cred: @lousolversons

So y’all, this scene alone was already so hot it could break a temperature controller...but then the steamy sensual vibes continue. And as Richonne is finally intimate for the first time in years, the deep, passionate, and emotional moment is, in every way, a roller coaster ride. 🎢 😌👌🏽

[0snags0]

The difference between the diagnostic process for Wilson and House is so cool. Each character highlights the pros and cons of each approach and how opposite the two really are. House’s MO is hard facts and quick results while Wilson’s hands on and caring demeanour lets him find out more intricate details about a persons life. House acutely understands why people do things and connects them quickly in his mind to a diagnosis, Wilson isn’t as quick as House but uses his knowledge of their personal life to catch when something isn’t right. Like in season 6 episode 10, Wilson notices a patient has depression after he fails to talk about his grandkids visit, he finds and treats a small Tumor[?] on the patients lung saving him from further complications later on his cancer treatment. Houses distrust of everyone and motto ‘everybody lies’ causes him to elemiate the patients soul and emotions from the equation, making his teams break in to their houses to find out more about their patients lives instead of talking to them. The only time House really interacts with a patient is to prove a point and insult them or manipulate the patient into telling him the pivotal answer that will solve the case. House’s jaded and radical way of treating patients is shown as the only way to get to a patients illness easily, Cameron’s empathy to all her patients is shown as a weakness and slows the case down IN HOUSES POINT OF VIEW!! This is so cool, it shows the skewed but realistic world view house has {Side note I love when the show has different points of view it’s so sick} Wilson is also shown scrutiny by House for his need for neediness.

Aughgg I hate them so much I just wanna watch them like lab rats

[am-i-interrupting]

hi hi hiii !!

idk if you're still doing requests for Arcane, but if you are, I'd love to see Ekko, Victor, Jinx (and any other characters of your choice) with an s/o that's really good with with kids? maybe they could be a teacher/ mentor or babysitter but just very much loving caregiver vibes for any and all kids they come across

Caitlyn

She loves seeing you with kids, in your element.

She thinks it’s cute to see the way kids hang onto your every word and the way you teach them without them even noticing.

She will pop in on you with kids carrying toys and games.

She does enjoy kids company as well and they do like her but maybe mostly because she’s an enforcer and she brings them toys.

Sometimes she’ll find herself watching you with a kid (especially if that kid looks like either one of you) and daydreaming about somewhere in the distant future where you two would have one of you own.

Ekko

He’s not the best with kids himself. He’s not bad by any means but he can find himself often freezing up and unsure what to do.

This caused him to find it fascinating how good you are with them when he finds himself floundering.

When the Firelights have to go on missions often times the ones who have kids will leave them with you.

Upon arriving back, he will spend a minute just watching you doting on the kids.

He is just so enraptured in everything you do and that includes your ability to form relationships with kids.

Jinx

There aren’t many kids in the areas Jinx grew up. Not too many parents are gonna bring their kids into what is now essentially a club.

The first time she saw you with a kid was one of the times you went outside together. She had stepped away from the kid crying on the street, her hand instinctively on her gun, and she got itchy when she saw you approach.

She didn’t say anything she just watched as you crouched down to the kid’s level and started calming them down.

Slowly but surely her hand on her gun went slack and she just watched you enthralled.

When you offered to walk the kid back home and they agreed and you started leading them to her, she just looked at them wide eyed as she cocked her head, her braids pooling on the ground as a result, and waved her hand.

The kid hid behind your leg but you reached out and grabbed her hand and slowly the kid got more comfortable around Jinx on the way to their house.

Later that night Jinx was tracing the seam lines on your shirt and asked you what you thought about kids.

Silco

He would find it amusing how good you are with kids that aren’t his.

It’s almost like he indulges in watching you with them but in an almost smug way as he is with everything.

Seeing you be good with Jinx though changes everything. It completely knocks him off his guard.

Watching you play with her and make her smile makes him soft.

If you’re there when Jinx is having a mental health moment, she’ll cling to you and beg you to make it stop while you do your best to calm her down.

The emotions he feels is a combination of sadness, sympathy, and oddly pride in those moments.

For other kids, he couldn’t care less about how you interact with them but when it’s his, it means the world to him.

Viktor

He’s not good with kids himself. Those pivotal years of learning to make connections were stolen from him because of his inability to do things so many others could and kids having a habit of being cruel, especially in the lanes.

Seeing you with kids is something like a case study to him.

He finds it fascinating and seems to almost take notes on what you’re doing.

He would never engage for the longest time with any kids that were under your watch unless they directly asked him questions.

Then one day, he just did and they adored him, not as much as they adored you but it was a close thing.

They would like him for the fact that he refuses to talk to them like they’re idiots and indulged them in their endless curiosity.

You find a notebook later on filled with things that you did around the kids (even something as small as your tone of voice) that made you realize he was mimicking what you did in his own way.

[elsa-fogen]

Oh, thinking more

What if the hunter that shot Alastor was Vox?

Like, I doubt it, but we "know" they had dogs, so I was thinking about who if any has anything resembling dogs? And the only one I can think of is Vox, like he had two sharks in the show plus some dog-shark creature in the insta stories

So, what if he was pretty young, loved radio and any new technology, so he was a fan of Alastor's. In addition, he had just started to learn how to hunt and wanting to impress his parents went out late to practice, took the dogs so that he could just say he went out with them if anyone asked

Then out in the woods, the dogs start to bark and he readies his gun, mostly just to better his aim, not intending to shoot. Then he sees the figure rise, he can't fully comprehend it before he takes the shot. He can hear a thud. He got it? He got it! He shot a deer!

Oh.

That's gonna be hard to hide.

Should he tell dad that he was able to shoot a deer? Like, yay, he did it! But also, no, he went out with dads gun without permission.

He approaches the deer, trying to figure out what to do with it, only to freeze when he gazes upon it.

It's not a deer.

It's a-

He-

This is bad.

That was the last time he went hunting. He can't get the image out of his head. He'll never forget that face.

The worst part was, he knew who it was. He had figured it out when he saw a missing poster of his favorite radio host.

He still liked technology, and to drown out the past that's where all his focus went. He wanted to be a big part of TV just like Alastor had been a big part of Radio. It was his way of honouring Alastor.

Still, sometimes it was hard to listen to the radio, that's why his focus was on the TV. They where practically the same, just some extra visuals, distractions, it was practically an upgrade. He just knew Alastor would agree, that man was always on the forefront of what was new in radio.

Surely, if he was alive, then he would have obviously pivoted towards TV after realizing the benefits of the medium

___

Imagen then how Vox would reach when seeing Alastor for the first time in hell. Like he doesn't know if Alastor is aware that it was Vox, but if he does maybe he won't recognize Vox? He has a TV for a head now, not really a human feature. Still though, he can't help but want to spend time with Alastor, tell of all that has happened in the world and share with him how Amazing the TV had become

DAMN BAEWSBNFSDYGUFKDGHFS

ANONS ARE FEEDING ME GOOD TODAY WTF?

✨✨✨THE TRAUMA✨✨✨

THIS IS INSANE remember the "sad and complicated" IT KINDA FITS LOL AHAHA-- THIS EXPLAINS WHY VOX IS SO OBSESSED WITH ALASTOR

IMAGINE JUST IMAGINE, NEXT SEASON THEY ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FIGHT AND VOX SAYS SOMETHING LIKE, I KILLED YOU ONCE, I'LL KILL YOU AGAIN AND ALASTOR'S JUST WHAT AND EVERYTHING STOPS WHILE BOTH REALISE WHAT WAS JUST SAID

That would be such a cool turn, like. Vox clinging to Alastor in pathetic attempt to apologise for killing him and make up for it, and get waht they could have in life if he haven't killed him. And Alastor just doesn't understand Vox's behavior nor the reasons for it

AND WHEN VOX SAYS THAT HE KILLED HIM IN LIFE EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR AND ALASTOR JUST LAUGHS LIKE, HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE, HE'S NOT EVEN ANGRY, BECAUSE VOX JUST BECOME EVEN MORE PATHETIC IN HIS EYES. HE KILLED HIM AND THEN WAS IN SHOCK HIS WHOLE LIFE WHILE ALASTOR KILLED MUCH MORE AND NEVER FELT REMORSE FOR A SINGLE ONE

[wildandsmile]

࿇ ✥ ࿇ Worlds Apart ࿇ ✥ ࿇

Summary: Your father serves as the coach for the Manshine football/soccer team, and in your role as the dutiful daughter, you make a point to visit him regularly. However, each time you stop by, one of the star players seems to have a penchant for flirting with you.

Word Count: 4.2k

TW: Age gap (Reo 22 and Readers 29) by the way cannon Reo likes older women so.

Kinks: Fingering, Degrading, Cream-pie, Praising, Sir Name, Squirting, Exhibition, Sub Reader, Dom Reo, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), humiliation, Choking and Rough sex.

Enjoy!

A couple of years had passed since Reo's departure from Blue Lock. His journey took him to the semi-finals, where he was eventually eliminated by Bachira. However, Ego recognized the immense talent Reo possessed and believed it shouldn't be squandered. As a result, he allowed Reo to continue pursuing his striking career. Shortly thereafter, your father, a renowned co-coach in England, teamed up with Chris Prince. They wasted no time in recruiting Reo, having already witnessed his potential while he was a starter for their team, Manshine City, during his time at Blue Lock.

And thus, you encounter the ostentatious wealthy young man who always seems to have a girl by his side. Each day, you would pay a visit to your father, given his advancing age, ensuring his well-being. However, occasionally, you extended your stay to assist the boys with their routines or offer them water after their practice games.

Whenever you approached Reo, though, he would indulge in playful flirting, charmingly remarking, "I'll treat you good if you give me the opportunity." This, understandably, ignited your father's anger, prompting him to punish Reo with rounds of field laps, much to the amusement of onlookers.

"Hey, dad, how has your day been?" you inquire, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. He turns toward you, a broad smile gracing his lips, and replies, "I've had a good day, dear. By the way, I know you just arrived, but could you fetch some water for the boys?" You offer a swift nod before making your way to the supply room, retrieving the water jug, and returning just in the nick of time.

"Once again, you grace us with your presence, princess," he remarks, deftly taking the cup of water from your hand and punctuating the gesture with a subtle wink. You roll your eyes and swiftly retort, "You're well aware I'm here for my dad, Reo." Yet, true to form, it's as if every word you utter that he doesn't wish to acknowledge simply passes through one ear and exits the other. "We both understand that it's just a self-assurance you cling to, convincing yourself it's all about watching me play, princess," he asserts, using his shirt to mop away perspiration and inadvertently unveiling his well-defined six-pack in the process. In exasperation, you throw your hands up and walk away, prompting Reo to trail closely in your wake.

"And what's your desire now, Reo?" you inquire, quickening your pace in an attempt to create distance between yourself and the purple-haired man. As anticipated, he manages to intercept by firmly grasping your wrist. "Well, give me a moment," Reo pleads with puppy-dog eyes, managing to melt your resistance just a tad. Succumbing to his persistence, you let out a hurried yet slightly curt, "What is it, Reo?" He disregards your brusqueness and proceeds, "I just wanted to extend an invitation to you for the upcoming victory celebration our team plans to host." With that, you come to a complete halt, pivoting to face Reo, your arms crossed and an eyebrow skeptically raised.

"You're talking as though victory is already in the bag," you retort with a sassy undertone, the effect of which sends a subtle shiver down Reo's spine, unbeknownst to you. He relishes witnessing your pouty demeanor, the way you appear and speak when you're irritated entices him even more. Yet, he finds himself engaged in this playful cat-and-mouse dynamic and is content to indulge it for a little while longer.

"Oh, come now, you don't truly believe we're destined to lose, do you, princess?" he chimes in, grasping your hand and gently massaging your knuckles. Eager to respond, you start, "Well, I don't think your team will..." Your sentence is abruptly truncated as Reo claps his hands together, interjecting, "Well then, if that's the sentiment, I'm eagerly anticipating your presence at the party." You're about to interject and voice your hesitation, but before you can, he departs, leaving you alone with your contemplations.

Before long, the anticipated game day arrives. Just as you had predicted, Reo and his team effortlessly overpower the opposing side, amassing such a significant lead that the match concludes ahead of schedule. As the dust settles, your father rushes onto the field, orchestrating a heartfelt group embrace with the team. Glancing towards them, a grin stretches across your face as their jubilant cheers and chants fill the air.

As the post-game festivities wind down, your attention shifts to Reo, who approaches with an infectious grin. You're well aware that his next words are bound to carry a hint of arrogance. "You see, princess, I told you victory was ours," he declares, his face beaded with sweat. You couldn't deny the charm in his triumphant expression, but you're determined not to inflate his already sizable ego. Nonchalantly, you retort, "Indeed, you did make that prediction," your tone carrying a playful undertone that downplays your enthusiasm for their impressive win.

"Since victory is ours, it seems only fitting that you accompany me to the after-party," Reo proposes, leaning against the fence and casting you pleading puppy-dog eyes. In response, you playfully place a finger on his lips, your expression softening into an adorable aw-struck gaze. "Um, no," you reply, relishing the playful moment. Ignoring your refusal, Reo persists, now puffing his lips in a childlike pout, his puppy-dog eyes unwavering. The charming standoff continues until your resolve finally crumbles.

"Alright, alright, I'll go, but on one condition: you must score 10 goals in your next match," you challenge. As your words sink in, you witness a transformation in Reo. His eyes widen with a newfound determination, as if flames of passion burn within him. "Really?" he exclaims, a smile that illuminates your very soul gracing his lips. Affirming your wager with a subtle nod, Reo bolts over to your father, urgently requesting gym access to train late into the night. Observing his earnest efforts for your attention, you can't help but find his determination endearing, knowing that you hold the power to grant him his desire.

True to form, like a well-oiled machine, the much-anticipated match unfolded according to schedule. Recognizing the gravity of the occasion, you chose to sit beside your father and Chris Prince, demonstrating unwavering team spirit. The boys poured their hearts into the game, and everything was proceeding splendidly. However, when your gaze fixed on Reo as he maneuvered down the opposite side of the field to wrest control of the ball from the opposing team, you couldn't resist turning to your father with a question.

"Dad, how many goals has Reo scored so far?" Despite the initial reproachful glance, your father set aside his reservations and provided the answer. "He's netted 9 so far," he informed you. Upon hearing those words, your heart sank momentarily as your attention remained fixed on Reo, who was advancing toward the rival goal. While you harbored a certainty that he would successfully score that goal, a flicker of hope kindled within you—a hope that he might not, considering their substantial lead. After all, the opposing team was already significantly behind, making a single goal seem inconsequential.

Your hopes were nearly extinguished when you witnessed Reo clinch the game's final goal, marking his remarkable 10th score. As the team rallied around him, playfully tousling his violet hair and lifting him into the air in jubilation, your fleeting optimism faded. However, your spirits were soon lifted when the entire group approached you and your father. They expressed their gratitude to him for his unwavering training efforts and extended their appreciation to you for ensuring his availability to guide them.

A comforting warmth enveloped you, as you realized the tangible impact of your involvement in the team's journey. Sharing a sincere smile and offering a gracious acknowledgment, you watched as they headed towards the locker room. Yet, a moment before they disappeared, Reo silently mouthed, "Wait for me." Though fully aware of his intentions, you remained seated, patiently awaiting his return. After approximately half an hour, Reo emerged once again. With an exuberant grin, he sprinted towards you, sweeping you up into his arms. Beaming at you, he exclaimed, "Did you catch my performance out there, princess? Wasn't I utterly astonishing?"

"Absolutely, Reo," you reply, struggling to stifle your laughter, feeling as though you're witnessing a child eagerly showing off a newfound skill to their mother. However, the lighthearted moment is swiftly replaced when the purple-haired young man inquires, "So, are you still planning on attending the party tonight?" You hesitate for a brief moment, then tap his chest gently as a signal for him to put you down.

He responds accordingly, lowering you to the ground. As he sets you down, his facial expression undergoes a shift, prompting you to offer your explanation. "Well, Reo, I was actually thinking I might not—" But before you can finish your sentence, Reo interjects assertively, "There's no backing out now, princess. We made our little wager, and I won fair and square. I'll see you at 8, okay?" You attempt to voice your thoughts, but before you can formulate a complete response, he's already striding away, the distance between you growing too great to carry on the conversation.

With determination, you headed home, fully aware that escaping the party was out of the question. Once inside, you ventured into the depths of your closet, selecting a variety of outfits. However, after an hour of fruitless searching, you resorted to FaceTiming your best friend for outfit advice. After a barrage of reactions ranging from outright rejections to tentative approvals, the two of you finally settled on a chic velvet two-piece ensemble.

Following your decision, you dedicated time to meticulously curling your hair, and then you settled in front of your mirror to carefully apply your makeup. Just as you were about to apply the finishing touch of lip gloss to complete the look, a knock echoed through your door. Swiftly, you hurried over, deftly applying the lip gloss in the process. Unsurprisingly, upon opening the door, you were met with the sight of Reo, elegantly clad in a black suit. His coat was artfully left open, revealing a crisp white button-up shirt that wasn't fully buttoned, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his bare chest.

Raising your hand in a gesture for Reo to wait by the door, you notice his understanding nod before you hurry back to your room. With swift precision, you retrieve your wallet, select a pair of shoes, and gather some safety essentials. Returning downstairs, you subtly showcase your outfit to Reo, a sly hint that you're dressing up for the occasion, although you'd never admit to it. Your actions are a playful payback for the teasing he's subjected you to. As you reach for the door to lock it, you cast a wink his way, a subtle acknowledgment of your little game.

Soon enough, you find yourself seated in Reo's car, gazing at the city lights as they blur by. The enchanting view momentarily captures your attention, until Reo's hand gently rests on your thigh, drawing you back to reality. In response, you subtly adjust your leg, granting him slightly more access to your thigh. However, as his touch ventures further, radiating warmth, you swiftly slap his hand away, a playful yet assertive reminder of your boundaries.

"You're quite the teasing expert, princess," Reo remarks, his hand resuming its place on the gearstick. The journey leads you to an upscale club adorned with Manshine Clubhouse signage.

Gazing at the vibrant-haired man, a perplexed expression crosses your face, prompting him to explain. "One of the guys saved up and invested a bunch of money into this place. With renovations and some significant investments, we ended up with the Manshine Clubhouse."

A nod from you acknowledges his preemptive response to an unspoken question—a characteristic of Reo that you appreciate. His uncanny ability to anticipate your thoughts and provide answers creates a unique connection between the two of you.

Lost in your thoughts, you're snapped back to reality as your date playfully tugs you into the club. The sights and sounds of dancing people envelop you, allowing you to soak in the atmosphere. Just as you're considering asking Reo to dance, a group of girls materializes, engulfing you in the crowd and temporarily interrupting your plans.

Understanding that trying to rejoin Reo might be a futile endeavor, you venture deeper into the club. Your eyes lock onto Nagi's girlfriend amidst the crowd, her presence providing a semblance of comfort. Approaching her, you engage in a casual conversation, quickly establishing a rapport. As the conversation flows, you summon the courage to broach the topic of hitting the dance floor.

To your surprise, she readily agrees, and you both kick things off by sharing a shot before immersing yourselves in the dance floor frenzy. The music resonates, the ambiance is electric, and the night seems to come alive. Amidst the pulsating beats, you relish in the carefree joy of letting loose and having fun.

As the hours roll on, fatigue begins to take a toll on your legs, prompting you to express your need to take a break to your newfound companion. With the music blasting at full tilt, you manage to convey your intention to sit down, though you suspect she only caught the "sit" part, given the deafening noise.

You locate a comfortable seat and ease yourself into it, initially basking in the ambiance of the club. However, your tranquility is shattered by an onslaught of giggles from across the room. Turning your gaze, a disconcerting sight meets your eyes: Reo flanked by two girls, perched on his lap, their hands eagerly exploring his body. It's as though they're vying for his attention, throwing themselves at him shamelessly.

Strangely, an unfamiliar pang of irritation courses through you, fueled by the undeniable urge to be the one occupying that seat, engaging in those affectionate gestures, sharing kisses, and reveling in the private jokes that elicit his radiant smile. You can't deny the surge of happiness his expressions bring, yet beneath it lies a growing anger.

Watching him interact with those girls, his touch tracing their contours, as if he's committing their forms to memory, ignites a fire within you. As you observe, your frustration simmers. The disparity between your worlds becomes glaringly apparent. Reo embodies intelligence, affluence, and popularity, while you're simply a down-to-earth individual with a deep connection to your father. Doubts swirl in your mind, wondering if his professions of love are genuine or if he merely desires to toy with your affections.

However, the last straw snaps as you glance up at Reo and the girls once more. His gaze locks onto yours, as if penetrating the depths of your soul. In that moment, his lips move in a silent confession, "This could be you," just as one of the girls plants a deliberate kiss on his neck. Fueled by a surge of frustration, you seize your resolve, grabbing your belongings and marching to the exit. Dialing a ride, you step outside, the biting wind cutting through you, offering no reprieve from your emotions.

Your attention is drawn back when Reo emerges from the building, his eyes finding you amidst the darkness. With purpose, he strides toward you. "Why are you leaving, princess?" he queries, his expression a mix of bewilderment and something more sinister. It's as if he's an enigmatic force, fully aware that his actions are the driving force behind your departure, a realization that only fans the flames of his ego.

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you respond, your words carrying an edge of bitterness. "I've had my fill of enjoyment for the night, and my feet are aching. But what about you? Aren't there two eager girls waiting for your attention?" The words drip with venom, a testament to your simmering anger.

"Well, well, well, seems you had your eyes on me, huh, princess?" Reo quips, a smug grin playing across his face. "And what if I was?" you retort, meeting his gaze with a hint of disdain, your gaze never faltering as you hold his gaze.

Unrelenting, Reo chooses to keep prodding, his determination evident. "Well, why didn't you come and join?" he challenges, further stoking the flames. It's in that moment that your attention zeroes in on the telltale lipstick marks adorning Reo's neck. As you count each visible kiss mark, a surge of anger courses through you, intensifying with each passing moment.

The mounting frustration propels you into motion, compelling you to walk away in a bid to regain your composure. Yet, as anticipated, Reo remains in pursuit, his words like arrows aimed at your vulnerabilities. "Aw, come on, princess, don't tell me a tinge of jealousy is creeping in," he goads, his words deliberately provocative. Ignoring him, you maintain your brisk pace, refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his jabs.

However, Reo's provocations continue undeterred. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're developing feelings for me or something," he jests, a knowing glint in his eyes. Suddenly, his grip tightens around your arm, halting your movement despite your efforts to pull away. Struggling against his unyielding grasp, you attempt to break free, but his hold remains resolute, overpowering your struggles.

"Your silence speaks volumes, confirming my suspicion," Reo assets, stepping directly in your path. His words hit home, as they reveal a truth you've kept hidden—the fact that you've fallen for this self-assured, albeit aggravating, individual. You refuse to grant him the satisfaction of admitting your feelings, at least not yet.

Determined to evade his scrutiny, you avert your gaze, ensuring your expression remains concealed. However, your attempt is short-lived, as his hand lands on your cheek, compelling you to meet his gaze. "Oh, no, princess. You won't escape by turning away. You owe me an answer, a genuine one," Reo insists, his grip firm as he holds your gaze captive. He demands a direct response, his eyes betraying a swirling mix of emotions, the complexity of which you can't quite decipher.

Despite his persistence, you maintain your silence, unwilling to let your emotions become an open book. This stance, however, is beginning to test Reo's patience. He's accustomed to bending situations to his will, and the prolonged cat-and-mouse game is chipping away at his composure, gradually igniting a spark of frustration within him.“Well princess since you don’t want to answer me I guess I’ll just have to fuck the answer out of you and with that Reo drags you to a near by alley way.

Reo's lips curled into a seductive grin as his fingers danced along the contours of your quivering abdomen, tantalizingly inching closer to the delicate fabric that barely concealed your enticing curves. He eagerly tugged it lower, craving the sensation of his hand slipping beneath the soft velvet fabric. Your breath hitched as his fingers grazed your tantalizingly bare thighs, inching dangerously close to your aching core.

You gasped with anticipation as he boldly slid his hand beneath your delicate fabric, his fingertips caressing the slick contours of your aroused core. His head inched nearer to yours, his lips tantalizingly grazing against your earlobe, causing a delicious shiver to course through your body. The warmth of his breath, coupled with his intoxicating scent, enveloped you entirely, leaving you utterly captivated.

What do you mean, "don't want to turn you into a dumb slut just yet, princess?" He poked his finger inside your sticky cunt and laughed as he felt the tight grip of your walls on his finger.

You muttered, "Fuck," knowing that keeping your mouth shut was going to be difficult, but you were so attracted to him that you didn't want the moment to end. You were in dire need of him. You closed your eyes and murmured, "Fuck, Reo," once again.

When he started pushing it in and out of you, your breath got erratic and you started making low whimpers and groans. When Reo inserted his middle finger and sped up her speed, you tossed your head back in an instant because you wanted to hear more of the wonderful noises you made exclusively for him. And he was not the least bit dissatisfied. Once he got to the part that always made you roll your eyes back in your head, you started muttering her name under your breath.

“You’re making such a pretty mess princess , look at you” he spoke in a lower tone. The combination of his voice that sent shivers down your spine and the movements of skilled fingers caused a familiar knot to form in your stomach.

I enjoy how you stretch between my fingers. You take me so well," he gushed, his other hand raising your skirt fabric again for a better look at your cunt. He noticed that your secretions were soaking through his palm and pooling at your feet as they dropped from your thighs. He let out a whistle at the site, unable to contain his amusement.

You could hardly believe how drenched you were for him as you lowered your gaze to the spot where he met your body and moaned in horror. You knew Reo turned you on so badly, but witnessing your body respond to his touch was something else entirely.

The only sounds you made in the alley were the wet noises coming from your cunt as his big, thick fingers stretched it out. It was almost embarrassing how effortlessly his fingers slid into your cunt. And you would feel shame for it if you weren't being fucked out by him, but you didn't give a damn.

“I'm- I'm so close! Don't stop, please” you say to him as your nails dug into his shoulder blades and your eyes shut closed.

Reo whispered in your ear, "Cum for me, princess," as you finally sought your high, mouth agape and eyes closed. He didn't cease his moves on your body until you virtually begged him to stop, despite the fact that you were on the verge of passing out from the exertion.

Then, you squirt all over his hands and watch as he proudly watches your messed-up condition while pulling out his fingers and bringing them to his lips to suck them clean. You were too worn out to speak, so your face was red, your eyes were shiny, and your lips were bitten. Your dress was now only just covering your upper body, and your tits were practically bursting out from behind it.

After you had a moment to catch your breath, he lined up his cock with your now hypersensitive cunt and pushed his throbbing cock within, without giving you a chance to acclimate to his size before he began thrusting into your sloppy, wet cunt.

You started crying because the feeling of him within you was driving you mad. When Reo's left hand rubbed rough circles on your clit, he let out a series of low grunts. And his right found its way to your thirst, where it rested on your throat, making your breath heavier and your cunt tighten until you and Reo were both on the verge of cumming.

"You look fantastic in this position, like a filthy little cum slut who is just itching to be filled, but what you don’t get to cum. So feel free to cry on my cock while I decide if you can continue to breathe.

As your nails drove painfully into his wrist, you whimpered. You felt your dizziness returning slowly. When I tell you to, princess, you'll cum on my cock. While his lips were making contact with hers, he spoke. You could hear the strain in his voice, the quiet gasps.

“M’mm yes sir, promise not to cum until I’m told” you moan out with your fucked out expression which was only make Reo even more feral.

Reo repeats, "Good girl," before giving you a few more pointed thrusts. When he repeatedly lands on the sweet spot, a sound that can only be described as a scream rises up from deep within your chest. He let go of your neck a little while ago.

"Cum." The demand had barely reached your ears as your vision went white. You felt his hips stutter against your own, shooting his load in tandem with your own orgasm.

The sight of you struggling to get up with your legs spread wide and his cum leaking out of you into the chilly ground was an object of admiration as he slowly withdrew. He couldn't deny that seeing you there just increased his desire for you, but he forced himself to help you tidy up and enter your Uber, where he spoke softly.

“Once we get home, I’m going to fuck the shit out you real fucking good until you can’t say anything but my name~” you only nodded knowing that you were in for a long night.

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

It's so fascinating the circus themed mini games in Helpwanted2.

It's fascinating that the FNAF4 house burns outside of the carousel mini game.

It's fascinating how Moon is the most reoccurring animatronic in this game as a whole, even playing a pivotal role in one of the endings.

It's also double fascinating that Sun seems to understand Fazbear Entertainment has scummy practices, like making children's art their international property if created on their property. He knows he's neglected, knows no one will fix him. (And only desperately approached Cassie in ruin cus she had the tools. )

Sun knows that Fazbear let's things fall by the wayside if they're not bringing money, like the carousel itself.

All of this new info has me thinking....

Maybe the Daycare Attendant wasn't even a theatre bot for Fazbear Entertainment in the first place.

I wonder if he was an animatronic designed for a Carnival or the Circus, and Fazbear Entertainment bought him out for their theatre.

Things like that are not unheard of in this universe. Especially when the books are concerned.

So it could be a possibility.

Consider that the balloon boy world minigame found in Sun and Moon's room, you play as a Balloon boy, who runs away from the circus to go on a journey past the mountains.

...I don't know. It's a thought.

I feel it gives Sun's passive agressiveness and self awareness of Fazbear's shitty practices a bit more sense. Cause he was never made for them to begin with.

[paddockletters]

racing hearts | lando norris ft. jude bellingham

paring: lando norris x reader jude bellingham x reader summary: Mia, a sports analyst caught between the worlds of football and F1, finds herself drawn to both Jude Bellingham and Lando Norris. Amidst the excitement of their glamorous lives, a pivotal moment forces her to confront her feelings, leaving her future uncertain and filled with possibility. author's note: Hope you liked it, teel me if you want a second part maybe... Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

Mia sat in the bustling café near the stadium, nursing a flat white as she scanned the latest highlights from the football matches on her phone. A sea of fans swarmed outside, their cheers echoing through the streets of Birmingham, but her mind was far from the beautiful game—or so she told herself. She had an important interview with Jude Bellingham that afternoon, and deep down, she wasn’t quite sure how it would go.

As she scrolled through her feed, a message dinged in from Lando Norris, her recently acquired contact via social media. "Fancy a catch-up? Just finished practice and could do with a laugh. Let’s grab a bite!"

Mia grinned, recalling their effortless banter from the charity event a few weeks back. "Absolutely! How about that café by the stadium?"

Within moments, a new message appeared: "Deal! Just don’t spill your drink this time, yeah? Wouldn’t want you to drown on me."

She chuckled, recalling the time she’d nearly snorted coffee when he showed her a video of his latest racing antics. Lando had a way of making every conversation feel like a joyride—safe but exhilarating.

Having finished her drink, Mia slipped her phone into her bag just as a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

“Oi! Mia!” Jude's voice was as warm as the sun peeking through the clouds outside. Dressed in a casual tracksuit, his presence was magnetic. Her nervousness melted away as he approached.

“Mister Bellingham! Thanks for meeting me,” she replied, standing to embrace him with a light hug. “You know it’s not every day I get to chat with a superstar.”

“A bit of an overstatement, isn’t it?” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, an endearing nervous habit. “But I’m chuffed to have you here! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

As they settled into a booth, Jude leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, are you going to tell me how close you are to Lando Norris, or should I be worried?”

Mia felt her cheeks heat up, but she brushed it off. “What? We’re just mates! He’s a laugh, you know? Good vibes all around!”

“Right, of course.” Jude raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Just keep your lips sealed about my dodgy free kicks, and we’re golden.”

They moved on to chatting about football, with Jude discussing his goals for the season and Mia sharing her experiences dissecting games for the network. As she listened, she was struck by his sincerity and genuine passion for the sport.

"Honestly, it’s not just about the glory, you know? It’s about the love for the game,” Jude said, his eyes gleaming with fervour. “Every time I step on that pitch, it’s like I’m living my dream.”

“I get that completely! You can see it in how you play, Jude. It’s inspiring,” Mia replied, feeling a sense of awe wash over her.

Just then, the bell above the café door jingled, and in walked Lando, all energy and charm. He spotted Mia and Jude instantly, making a beeline towards them, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Look who it is! The lovely Mia and Mr. Bellingham!” Lando said, sliding into the booth with the confidence of a man who knew he belonged. “What’s the secret meeting about? Planning world domination or just scheming how to beat me in a race?”

“Beat you in a race? I’d rather stick to football, thanks,” Jude quipped, grinning back as he leaned back, clearly at ease.

Mia watched the two banter back and forth, their easy camaraderie adding to her internal conflict. She felt a tug between their worlds—Jude's grounded seriousness and Lando’s lively and flamboyant spirit.

“Come on, Mia, you should ditch the footie for a day and give racing a go,” Lando insisted, playfully nudging her shoulder. “I’ll take you for a spin. Just try not to scream, alright? My driving’s top-notch.”

“And your humour is bottom-tier,” Jude interjected, but there was no bite to his words. They all laughed, but Mia noticed the intensity in Jude's gaze as he looked at her. It was surprising and new, igniting a flutter in her stomach.

“You should, though,” he said softly, turning serious for a moment. “It’s thrilling. You’d love it. The adrenaline is like nothing else.”

Just then, a flare of tension filled the air. Mia felt the atmosphere shift as she glanced between both of them—two incredible athletes with undeniable chemistry, each vying for more than just friendship.

Mia shifted in her seat, her heart racing with the unspoken tension between Jude and Lando. The café's vibrant atmosphere seemed to fade as she focused on the exchange unfolding before her.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that someday,” Mia said, attempting to lighten the mood. She looked at Lando, who still wore his characteristic grin. “But I think I’m better off sticking to my day job—at least until I’ve had some more practice.”

“Fair enough,” Lando said with a wink. “But remember, I’m always here for a joyride if you change your mind.”

Jude cleared his throat, his tone turning more earnest. “And if you ever need a break from racing or football, you know where to find me. I’m always up for a chat or a quick kickabout.”

Mia smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She admired both men for their dedication and passion, but the emotional stakes of their unspoken feelings were beginning to weigh on her.

“Thanks, both of you. That means a lot,” Mia said, her voice slightly trembling. “It’s not often I get to hang out with two of the most amazing athletes in their fields.”

They continued their conversation, but Mia’s mind was preoccupied with the growing realization of her feelings for both Jude and Lando. The way Jude’s eyes softened when he spoke, the genuine support he offered—he was everything she’d ever wanted in a partner, but there was also Lando, whose spontaneous charm and zest for life had quickly captured her heart.

As the afternoon wore on, Jude and Lando’s playful banter persisted, but Mia’s thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. It wasn’t long before they had to part ways, each with their own commitments and schedules.

“See you around, Mia,” Jude said, giving her a friendly hug. “And good luck with everything. You’re doing great.”

“Thanks, Jude,” Mia replied, her heart aching slightly at the thought of parting from him. “I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Lando approached next, offering a mischievous grin. “Don’t let Jude scare you off football too much. And remember, there’s always a seat in my car if you need a break.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mia said, feeling a pang of regret as she returned his hug. “Take care, Lando.”

As she watched them leave, Mia felt the weight of her dilemma settle heavily on her shoulders. Her feelings for Jude and Lando were genuine, but the intensity of their emotions and the complexity of her own heart made the situation increasingly challenging.

She stood by the window of the café, watching the crowd outside, her mind awash with thoughts and feelings. The choice she faced wasn’t just about choosing between two incredible men but also about finding her own path in this tangled web of emotions. The football season and F1 calendar would continue, and so would the world of sports, but for Mia, the real race was against the growing confusion within her heart.

Mia took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She knew she needed time to figure things out—time to understand her own heart and desires. As she walked away from the café, her steps were lighter, her mind clearer, even as her heart remained caught in the exhilarating whirlwind of racing hearts.

The following weeks were a whirlwind for Mia as she juggled her work responsibilities with the emotional turbulence of her personal life. Between analyzing game footage for football matches and covering F1 races, Mia found little time for herself. Yet, the ongoing saga of her feelings for Jude and Lando was never far from her mind.

One crisp autumn morning, Mia was at the edge of her seat, covering a crucial football match. Jude's team had a major game, and she was busy preparing her pre-match report. Her phone buzzed with a message from Lando:

"Race day tomorrow. Let’s catch up before I hit the track. I’ve got something special planned."

Mia’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Lando. She hadn’t seen him since their café meeting, and his playful promise of something special intrigued her.

She replied, "Sounds great! Where should we meet?"

“Meet me at the paddock early. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you,” Lando’s reply came swiftly.

The next day, Mia arrived at the F1 paddock, the excitement of race day palpable in the air. Lando greeted her with his usual exuberance. “Hey, Mia! Ready for the surprise?”

“Absolutely. What’s the plan?” Mia asked, trying to hide her anticipation.

“Just follow me,” Lando said with a grin.

He led her to a private area near the track, away from the hustle and bustle. A sleek, custom race car was parked there, its colors dazzling under the sun.

“This is for you,” Lando said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I thought you might enjoy a spin in one of these beauties before the race.”

Mia’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding! Are you sure?”

“Trust me,” Lando replied, laughing. “It’s all safe. I promise.”

As they drove around the track, the speed and adrenaline were exhilarating. Lando’s presence beside her was both comforting and thrilling. They shared a few moments of laughter and awe, the world outside the car blurring into a streak of colors.

When they returned to the paddock, Mia felt a mix of elation and nervousness. Lando’s charm had rekindled her earlier feelings, making it harder to focus on her work.

Later that evening, as Mia prepared to cover the football match, she spotted Jude in the stadium’s VIP section. He was watching the game with intense focus, and Mia’s heart did a little flip. She took a deep breath and walked over to greet him.

“Hey, Jude!” she said, trying to sound casual despite her racing heart.

“Hey, Mia,” Jude responded warmly. “How was the day? I hope Lando didn’t drive you too crazy.”

“Not at all,” Mia said with a smile. “He gave me an unforgettable ride.”

As the match went on, Mia found herself caught between two worlds. Jude’s passion for football was magnetic, and his presence was comforting. She admired his dedication and the way he spoke about the game with such love and enthusiasm.

At the end of the match, Jude walked with Mia to the stadium’s exit, his hand lightly brushing against hers. “You’ve been working so hard. How about we grab a drink sometime soon, just the two of us?”

Mia hesitated, feeling the weight of her feelings for both Jude and Lando. “I’d like that,” she said softly. “I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

Later that night, as Mia lay in bed, her thoughts were a tangled mess of emotions. The thrill of the racetrack and Lando’s infectious energy contrasted sharply with Jude’s sincere and grounded nature. She felt torn, unable to fully embrace either relationship without feeling guilty or conflicted.

As the weeks went by, Mia began to realize that she needed to take a step back and focus on herself. She continued to enjoy her time with both Jude and Lando but knew that her decision would come in time.

In a heart-to-heart conversation with a close friend, Mia admitted her confusion.

“I care about both of them, but I need to figure out what I really want. It’s not fair to them or to myself if I don’t.”

Her friend nodded in understanding. “Sometimes, the best way to make a decision is to listen to your own heart and take a step back. You’ve got to find what truly makes you happy.”

With that advice in mind, Mia decided to embrace a period of self-discovery. She focused on her career and passions, allowing herself the space to understand her own desires without the pressure of choosing between Jude and Lando.

As time went on, Mia’s clarity grew. She realized that her journey was about more than just choosing between two incredible people. It was about finding herself and her own path in a world filled with excitement and uncertainty. And while her heart was still intertwined with both Jude and Lando, she knew that the future held possibilities she was eager to explore—both in love and in her own life.

As the winter months settled in, Mia’s internal struggle began to weigh heavily on her. Her career was flourishing, and she had become a respected figure in the sports world, but the personal turmoil involving Jude and Lando remained unresolved.

Jude and Mia’s friendship grew more complex. Jude had been patient and understanding, always present and supportive. Their conversations often lingered on deeper topics, and Jude’s gentle affection began to take on a more romantic tone. His heartfelt gestures and considerate actions made it increasingly difficult for Mia to ignore the feelings that were developing.

On the other hand, Lando’s presence was a whirlwind of excitement. He continued to charm her with his spontaneous adventures and infectious laughter. His adventurous spirit and playful demeanor had become a refreshing escape from the pressures of her daily life. Yet, the intensity of their interactions was unmistakable, and Lando’s occasional hints about their future together left Mia feeling both exhilarated and overwhelmed.

The tipping point came during a major sports gala in London, where both Jude and Lando were in attendance. Mia had been invited to cover the event, and the evening promised to be a glamorous affair. She arrived early to prepare, her thoughts occupied by the weight of her decisions.

As she mingled with guests and conducted interviews, Jude approached her with a serious look in his eyes. “Mia, can we talk?”

“Of course,” Mia replied, her heart racing as she followed him to a quieter corner of the venue.

Jude took a deep breath, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “I know things have been complicated, and I respect that you need time. But I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with just being friends. I care about you deeply, and I want more. I need to know where you stand.”

Mia was taken aback by his honesty. “Jude, I—”

Before she could respond, Lando appeared, his usual grin replaced by a more somber expression. “Hey, Mia. Can I have a word with you too?”

Jude looked at Lando, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Sure, Lando. Go ahead.”

Lando led Mia to the edge of the gala hall, away from prying eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I know I’ve been a bit of a whirlwind, and maybe I didn’t give you the space you needed. But I really care about you, Mia. More than I’ve let on. I know this is probably the last thing you need right now with everything going on, but I had to tell you."

Mia’s head spun as she looked between the two men. Both Jude and Lando had laid their feelings bare, and the pressure felt overwhelming. She had been avoiding this moment for weeks, trying to focus on her career and navigate the swirl of media attention, but now she had to face it head-on.

Rumors about her relationships had been flying for some time. Tabloids were constantly speculating, printing photos of her with Jude at a café, or Lando sneaking her into the paddock for a quick joyride. It was getting harder to ignore. The attention had shifted from her work to her personal life, and it was affecting her more than she liked to admit.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Mia admitted, her voice wavering as she finally spoke. “This whole situation has been a lot, and I’ve been trying to figure it out myself. The media, the rumors... it’s been so intense. I care about both of you, but I’ve been struggling to even think clearly.”

Jude’s face softened, his usually confident demeanor giving way to concern. “I had no idea you were feeling like that. You don’t have to decide anything right now, Mia. But just know that whatever happens, I’ll respect your space and your choices.”

Lando shifted uneasily, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked away for a moment. “Yeah, same here. I didn’t mean to add pressure. I just wanted you to know how I feel. We can take it slow—whatever you need.”

Mia felt her eyes welling up as the weight of the situation finally hit her. “Thank you, both of you. I just need some time to think about what’s best for me.”

Jude nodded, stepping back to give her space. “Take all the time you need, Mia. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Lando gave her a small smile, the usual mischief in his eyes replaced with something softer. “I’ll be around, too. And hey, no matter what, we’re mates first.”

Mia let out a shaky breath, feeling both relieved and conflicted as she watched the two men walk away. The media could say what they wanted, but this decision was hers to make, and she knew it wouldn’t be easy.

With that, Mia felt a mixture of relief and sadness. She knew that her decision would not be easy, and the road ahead was uncertain. As the gala continued around them, she watched Jude and Lando walk away in opposite directions, each carrying a piece of her heart with them.

As she left the gala that night, the city lights shimmering in the distance, Mia knew one thing for certain: before she could choose between Jude and Lando, she had to choose herself first. And that was going to take more than just a headline or a rumor to figure out.

In the days that followed, Mia took a step back from both Jude and Lando, focusing on her career and personal growth. The break allowed her to gain perspective and eventually led to a deeper understanding of her own desires and needs.

Months later, at a quiet café where it all began, Mia sat alone, sipping her coffee. She looked out the window, reflecting on the tumultuous journey she had experienced. The thrill of the racing tracks and the passion of the football fields had left their marks on her, but it was the time she spent finding herself that truly shaped her path.

As the café door chimed open, Mia saw a familiar face—Jude. He approached her with a warm smile, and they exchanged a simple, heartfelt greeting.

“Hey, Jude,” Mia said, her voice steady and genuine. “It’s been a while. How are things with you?”

“Hey, Mia,” Jude replied, his smile tinged with a hint of sadness. “Things have been good, just keeping busy with the season. I’ve been thinking about you. How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing well,” Mia said, feeling a sense of calm. “I’ve been focusing on my work and taking some time for myself.”

Jude nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and regret. “I’m glad to hear you’re finding your balance. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you ever want to talk or need anything.”

Mia smiled, appreciating his words. “Thanks, Jude. That means a lot.”

As Jude turned to leave, Mia’s phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Lando.

“Hey, Mia. I hope you’re doing alright. I know things have been complicated lately. I’m in Monaco, but I’d really like to catch up when I’m back. Maybe we can figure things out over coffee? Just let me know.”

Mia read the message and felt a surge of conflicting emotions. She was touched by Lando’s sincerity, but also felt the weight of her own unresolved feelings.

Sipping her coffee, Mia gazed out the window, contemplating the paths before her. Both Jude and Lando had made a significant impact on her life, each in their own way. She realized that no matter which direction she chose, it would come with its own set of challenges and opportunities.

With a thoughtful sigh, Mia responded to Lando’s message, “I’d like that. Let’s talk when you’re back. Thanks for reaching out.”

As she sent the message, Mia knew that the future was uncertain but full of possibilities. She was ready to explore what lay ahead, with the potential for new beginnings and meaningful connections. The decision of who to pursue—or whether to pursue either—was still to be made, but for now, Mia was open to whatever the journey would bring.

The café bustled with activity around her, a reflection of the vibrant life she was living, and Mia felt a renewed sense of hope and curiosity about the future.

[seongwars]

away with the wind | x

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: a spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 5.2K Warnings: poor use of biology and science terms, mentions of child abduction, dragon poop (because I'm immature)

a/n: finally no more filler chapters

Fic Masterlist

The grand chambers of the capitol building echoed with the weight of authority. High lords, resplendent in their embroidered robes and suits, gathered in the chambers set for another day of debate. Yunho rushed past the oncoming crowd, his footsteps a hurried staccato against the marble floor. He weaved through the throng of lords and officials, his eyes fixed on his destination. With a quick, practiced motion, he handed Seonghwa the agenda of the day before bowing out, his duty fulfilled for the moment.

Amidst the orderly chaos, a cry pierced the air. “My son, please help me find my son!” The voice was raw, breaking with emotion. A man, disheveled and desperate, moved through the crowd, his eyes wide with panic. He approached every assembly member and lord he encountered as they passed through the rotunda, but they all brushed past him, too engrossed in their own affairs to notice his plight.

Ham Jinsu was frantic and desperate. He moved through the corridors with a sense of urgency, his hands trembling slightly as he clutched a photograph of his missing son. His voice, though breaking with emotion, carried a determined plea for help. The lines on his face deepened with each passing moment, reflecting the weight of his fear and the depth of his love for his child.

“Please sir, my son is missing!” he implored, his voice echoing off the grand pillars and high ceilings.

A lord brushed past him, bumping his shoulder without a single look. The indifference stung, but Jinsu pressed on, his desperation giving him strength.

“My son is missing, I need help. Please, anyone!” he cried out again, his voice growing hoarse.

Yet his pleas fell on deaf ears. The assembly members and lords continued their march towards the chambers, their minds occupied with the day’s agenda, oblivious to the man’s suffering. Jinsu’s heart ached with each step he took, the photograph in his hand a constant reminder of his missing child. The grand hall, with all its splendor and authority, felt cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warmth and love he sought to reclaim.

“I see Lady Lee is here today,” Seonghwa said quietly to Lord Kim as they observed the assembly room, his eyes discreetly following Lady Lee’s entrance.

Lord Kim glanced in her direction and raised an eyebrow. “That she is.” 

Seonghwa shifted his gaze back to Sangjoong, his curiosity evident. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask—what was the nature of your conversation with Lady Lee the other day? You mentioned she had personal matters to attend to.”

“Indeed. She was rather vague about the details of these ‘personal matters.’ What struck me as odd was how emphatic she was about their urgency. It seemed rather out of character for her, considering her usual commitment to events that align with her interests.”

“It does seem peculiar. I wonder if there might be more to her absence than she let on. Her sudden, unexplained absence from such an important gathering certainly raises questions,” Seonghwa observed. 

Lord Kim’s gaze drifted back to Lady Lee, who was now engaging in animated conversation with another member of the Assembly. “Perhaps. It’s worth keeping an eye on her. Sometimes, what seems like a simple excuse can be a cover for more significant matters.”

The chamber’s air was charged with the weight of the day’s agenda, a pivotal decision that could shape the future of their society. Madame President Jung, a figure of calm authority, stood at the podium, her gaze sweeping over the assembly.

“What do we have before us today, Lady Lee?”

“Madame President, esteemed colleagues,” Lady Lee began, her tone resolute and clear, “We stand at a critical juncture in our efforts to advance dragon behavior research and ensure the safety and well-being of both our dragons and their riders. The recent incident at the Inferno Cup has underscored the urgent need for innovative solutions to address behavioral issues that can arise in these magnificent creatures.”

She paused briefly, allowing her words to resonate. The Assembly’s members shifted in their seats, clearly engaged as Lady Lee continued.

“Today I propose we bring Cromer Labs on board in the proposal process,” she announced confidently, her voice carrying across the hall.

The Assembly responded with a mix of murmurs; some lords nodded in agreement, while others exchanged skeptical glances. Lord Kim locked eyes with Seonghwa who had been quietly observing from his seat. With a look of deep concern, Seonghwa suddenly rose to his feet.

“Do you have something to say, Lord Park?” Madame Jung inquired. 

“I do, Madame President. Colleagues,” Seonghwa began, his voice resonating with conviction, “we cannot, in good conscience, align ourselves with an organization so novel that it seeks to overshadow the millennia of knowledge and ethical standards upheld by the Institute.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Lady Lee’s face flushed with a mix of frustration and disbelief. 

“Lord Park, while I respect your opinion, Cromer Labs has shown remarkable innovation. We need fresh perspectives to tackle the challenges we face.”

Seonghwa met her gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Innovation is crucial, Lady Lee, but so is experience and ethical integrity. The Institute has a proven track record of balancing progress with the well-being of dragons. They are the better option for guiding us through this transition.”

Lady Lee took a deep breath, her initial frustration giving way to a more measured tone. “I understand your concerns, Lord Park. Yet, we must also consider the potential benefits that Cromer Labs offers. Their pioneering methods and technologies have the potential to significantly enhance safety and management practices. We cannot overlook the advancements they bring to the table.”

Seonghwa remained unfazed, his expression as cold as ever. “And what might those advancements be?” 

Lady Lee’s eyes flashed with malice. “Cromer Labs offers us a chance to break free from their outdated methods and truly advance. Their genetic research holds the potential to significantly reduce the incidence of hereditary diseases and other health issues that currently affect our dragons. This could lead to a healthier population overall, which also means healthier temperaments.”

"And what is it that Cromer Labs can do that the Institute cannot?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism. Are you so eager to embrace Cromer's methods because the Institute's standards are too... antiquated for your tastes? Or is it simply that you have a personal, vested interest?"

As Seonghwa's words lingered, the rest of the high lords and ladies shifted uneasily. A few exchanged uneasy glances, while others murmured in hushed tones, the tension in the room palpable. Lady Lee's eyes blazed with fury, and she opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Madame Jung brought the hammer down onto the gavel. 

"Perhaps this discussion is better suited for another time," Madame Jung interjected, her voice soothing as she gave Seonghwa a pointed look. "We have many matters to attend to today, and I'm sure we all want to ensure that our priorities remain aligned."

Seonghwa simply leaned back in his chair, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, satisfied that he'd achieved exactly what he intended.

With Yunho’s task completed, he took the opportunity to take a breather, his shoulders easing as the weight of responsibility momentarily lifted. The capitol building, usually a place where he felt the constant press of duty, seemed almost distant now–it was a place of wealth and power, a world where appearances mattered more than substance.

Yet, even as he observed this, something pulled his attention away from the hollowness of his settings. A distress call. Without a second thought, Yunho moved toward the man, his long strides purposeful. As he approached, he noticed the tremor in the man's hands, the way his breath hitched with every sob. This was no ordinary outcry—this was a father's grief, raw and unfiltered.

“Excuse me sir? Is your son missing?”

“Yes!” he choked out, his voice breaking. “Yes, m-my son Jinsik has gone missing!” The words tumbled out in a rush, as he gathered himself before the handler. “He was last seen at the skyway—he’s training to be a rider!”

“A rider? Did he want to pursue a career in racing?” Yunho's mind raced as he processed the urgency of the situation. Yet, in Jinsu's trembling form and tear-streaked face, Yunho recognized a father's determination and the sheer desperation of a man clinging to hope.

“He was a student at the academy and was recruited by Cromer Labs! They were covering his training expenses and even provided him with a dragon. Here’s his photo!” 

Yunho took the photo carefully, his eyes scanning the image of a young boy with a bright, hopeful smile. The boy’s face was full of promise, a future ahead of him that had been cruelly snatched away. But what truly caught Yunho’s attention was the mention of Cromer Labs.

“Come with me,” Yunho said quietly, slipping the photograph back into the man’s hands and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. His voice was low, meant only for the man’s ears, as he guided him away. “There’s someone who might be able to help.”

The weight of the day’s endless meetings, tiresome discussions, and layers of bureaucracy clung to Seonghwa like an unwelcome shadow. His head ached from the sheer monotony of it all—the endless back-and-forth over trivial matters, the careful balancing of politics, the feigned interest in matters that bored him.

Swinging the door open, his plans for solitude were quickly dashed–he found Yunho and a disheveled man sitting there, waiting for him. 

“You’re back!” Yunho’s voice cut through the silence, relief evident in his tone as he stood up. 

“I’m back,” he confirmed, his gaze shifting from Yunho to the stranger sitting beside him. “And this is…?”

“Y-You’re Park Seonghwa,” Jinsu stammered, his voice trembling with a mix of nerves and admiration. “The Park Seonghwa. I never thought… I never imagined I’d be sitting here, in front of you!”

Seonghwa, who was used to such reactions, offered a small, almost weary smile. “Well,” he drawled, leaning back against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow, “this is certainly not what I expected to find when I returned. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Ah, this is Ham Jinsu,” Yunho explained, his voice taking on a more serious note. “He needs our help.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze shifting to Jinsu, who was now clutching a photograph. “My son, Jinsik, was training to be a rider,” he added. “He’s been following your career since you started all those years ago. He idolized you. Wanted to be just like you.”

He took a step closer, his eyes fixed on the photograph Jinsu held. “May I?” he asked gently, reaching out. Jinsu hesitated for a moment before handing over the picture, his hands shaking slightly.

“We couldn’t afford to send him to a traditional training center or hire a trainer. That’s when Cromer Labs stepped in and recruited him from the academy. They covered the training fees, and even provided him with a dragon that he kept boarded at their facility. He was last seen at the skyway just before it closed.” 

“Cromer Labs,” Seonghwa repeated, his voice carefully controlled, though there was an edge to it. Seonghwa recalled his conversation with you about Cromer Labs and how they had engaged Mingi in the same process 10 years ago.

“Did the lab expect anything in return? Was there anything unusual about his training?”

Jinsu shook his head. “No… He was so excited about the opportunity. He mentioned that if he completed his training and passed the final trial, they’d sponsor him. It seemed like everything he ever wanted, and he worked hard to prove himself.”

“And no one saw him after the skyway closed?” Seonghwa asked, his tone probing gently but firmly. His instincts told him that there was more to this situation as he and Yunho exchanged looks. 

“Nothing,” Jinsu replied, his voice breaking slightly. “It’s like he just vanished.”

“There could be more at play here,” Yunho commented, his voice steady as he turned back to Jinsu. “Are you aware of other missing children?”

Jinsu shook his head. “Not that I know of. But if I do I’ll be sure to let you know,” he sighed, tightening his grip on the photograph. “This means so much to my family, your grace. I can’t thank you enough for your support.” 

Seonghwa’s gaze softened slightly, though his mind remained focused. “We’ll do everything we can to find Jinsik. If you think of anything else, no matter how small, please let us know immediately. Every detail could be important.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, your grace,” Jinsu nodded vigorously, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope after what seemed like an eternity. 

For both Seonghwa and Yunho, the gravity of the situation was clear, and both understood that the investigation into Jinsik’s disappearance would likely lead them into dangerous and uncharted territory.

“Cromer Labs,” Seonghwa muttered, his arms crossed. “Lady Lee just so happened to try and convince the rest of the Assembly to work with them in the proposal process for the behavioral study.”

Yunho’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing more serious. “Do you think there’s a link with Jinsik’s disappearance?”

Seonghwa sighed deeply, his fingers pressing into his temples as if to ward off the mounting tension. “It might explain why she wasn’t at the gala or General Choi’s birthday celebration. Her absence wasn’t just coincidental,” he muttered, more to himself than to Yunho. “But there’s still nothing connecting her with Cromer Labs or Jinsik—not yet, at least. I should probably swing by the Institute.”

Yunho tilted his head, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Why the sudden rush?” he asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

Seonghwa shot him a look, though there was no real heat behind it. “I need to loop Hongjoong in on this.”

“Uh-huh. You mean, “Kim Hongjoong who only goes home once a month and is going to ask you to return all the overdue scrolls you’ve borrowed”, Kim Hongjoong.”

“This is about work, Yunho. There are serious things at play.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, understanding Seonghwa’s true intentions. “Y/N is not going to be happy if you show up unannounced. She has an actual job that requires her full undivided attention. It’s not like she’s just sitting around waiting for you to show up.”

“Go away,” you said, not bothering to look up as you typed furiously. Your voice was muffled by the sea of papers on your desk.

“But it’s important!” Seonghwa pleaded, his tone a mix of frustration and playful annoyance. He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with a frown. This wasn’t the Park Seonghwa you were accustomed to, and it was probably your fault for indulging him the night of General Choi’s celebration.

You paused for a moment, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you considered whether or not to entertain him. “What?”

“Come with me to see Hongjoong,” he pleaded, his eyes searching yours for any willingness.

“Are you serious right now?” you retorted, eyes narrowing as you considered the interruption. “I’m sifting through six months of work because someone begged me to train him. I don’t have the luxury of assisting you on your side quests.”

“But you could,” he pouted slightly, crossing his arms defensively.

“Could I now?” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words. “I can think of someone else who might want to hear about your ‘important’ mission.” Without warning you wheeled your swivel chair away from your desk and stuck your head out into the hallway. 

“Wooyoung! Wooyoung, Lord Park is here to see you!” Your voice echoed down the hall, and you knew it would carry straight to your boss’s office. It was times like these that you were grateful for his open door policy. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened in panic, and he straightened up, looking genuinely alarmed. “No, please! Don’t do that!”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to have you here. You know how he loves to dig into your personal life.” You smirked, enjoying his reaction.

Seonghwa’s expression softened, a sheepish grin creeping onto his face. “Alright, I get it. I’ll back off,” he said, raising his hands up in defense. “But there is something you should know.”

“And what’s that?” You asked, your playful demeanor quickly fading. 

Seonghwa glanced out the door as if making sure no one else was around to overhear. Then, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “You’ll find out if you go down to the archives with me.”

“Fine,” you muttered, feeling the last of your resistance crumble. As you followed him out, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you were getting yourself into this time—and why, despite the nagging voice of caution in the back of your mind, you were looking forward to finding out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hongjoong muttered, clearly unimpressed by the unexpected visitor. His eyes narrowed as he scanned Seonghwa’s face, then shifted to you. “Last I checked, a Lord should not be shirking his duties to the people of Aurora.” 

“There’s a first time for everything. Besides, I thought you might want to hear something.” 

“And you couldn’t just send me a message like a normal person? What, did you need an audience or something?”

“It’s about Cromer Labs.”

You and Hongjoong exchanged a glance, both of you immediately sensing the gravity of the situation. You could feel a knot tightening in your stomach, a creeping sense of anxiety at what Seonghwa had to share.

His expression was grim, his usual confident demeanor overshadowed by the weight of the news he was about to deliver. “A student recruited by the lab has gone missing,” he said, his voice low and serious.

“Missing?” Hongjoong repeated, his tone laced with suspicion. “For how long?” His eyes narrowed, and you saw his jaw clench slightly as he processed the information. 

“Right before the skyway closed,” Seonghwa replied, his gaze shifting between the two of you. “His name is Ham Jinsik. He was recruited under the pretense of becoming a rider. They gave him a dragon and were training him. But one day, he just… vanished. No one’s seen or heard from him since.”

You felt a chill run down your spine, the implications of Seonghwa’s words sinking in. “A child has gone missing and no one’s done anything about it? How is that possible?”

Seonghwa shook his head, his frustration clear. “His father has been desperately trying to get anyone to listen. He showed up at the Assembly today, but he was rebuffed until Yunho ran into him. What’s even more troubling is that his father mentioned something about a trial.”

You stared at Seonghwa, your concern quickly morphing into anger. “A trial? Cromer Labs is running trials on minors now?” you demanded, your voice seething with fury. “Did the father say anything else?”

Seonghwa shook his head, his expression troubled. “No, not much. He mentioned that Jinsik would receive full sponsorship once he completed it. The details were sparse, and he looked like he was barely holding it together.”

Your anger only intensified, a seething fury bubbling just beneath the surface. The gravity of the situation hit you with full force, and you struggled to keep your voice steady. “What else?” you pressed. “There must be more to this.”

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment, clearly sensing your growing frustration. “Lady Lee was pushing hard for Cromer Labs to lead the behavioral research project,” he finally added. “She made a presentation to the full Assembly earlier today.”

The revelation struck you, and you took a moment to process the connection. “So get us an in with the lab,” you suggested. The idea had struck you suddenly, the connection between Lady Lee and the Cromer Labs was too significant to ignore. It wasn’t just a coincidence—it was a potential opening, a narrow window that could lead you closer to the truth.

But before you could even finish the thought, Hongjoong’s eyes widened, and he shot you a look that was equal parts disbelief and concern. “Are you crazy?” he blurted out, the words escaped him before he could temper his tone. “Do you even know what you’re asking? Getting close to her could be dangerous—no, it will be dangerous.”

“It’s a viable plan,” you countered, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed the uncertainty you were trying to suppress. “And I’m not saying it’s without risk. But we can’t afford to keep chasing our tails when we have all the pieces right before us. If Lady Lee is our way into the lab, we have to take a chance,” you pressed on, feeling the weight of the decision settle on your shoulders. “Especially when missing children are involved.”

Seonghwa nodded in agreement, his expression growing more resolute. “If Cromer Labs is as involved as we suspect, every moment we delay could be critical. We need to act on this opportunity,” he finally said.

The archives fell into a tense silence as Hongjoong considered Seonghwa’s words. His expression shifted from frustration to reluctant agreement. “Do either of you have a plan?”

“Seonghwa should charm his way into Lady Lee’s good graces,” you suggested, your tone practical and decisive as you turned to face him. “Approach her with a request to open up a tour of the facility—something that seems entirely plausible and public facing.”

Seonghwa made a face, one that mixed both skepticism and mild distaste. “I’d rather not, but it would give us an opportunity to gather more information without arousing suspicion.”

“You’ll need to do more than just flatter her. We’ll have to provide compelling reasons why a tour of the facility would be beneficial for her. Play it up with the rest of the Assembly,” Hongjoong added, his expression thoughtful. 

“And then what?” Seonghwa asked. 

“The public gains access to the facility,” you explained. “We’ll blend in with the crowd and use the opportunity to gather as much information as we can. Our goal is to identify key areas of interest, such as restricted zones or locations where sensitive activities might be taking place.”

Seonghwa’s expression shifted from skepticism to determination, signaling his readiness to tackle the challenge ahead. “Well then, I guess we’ll have to play our parts convincingly then.”

“Lord Park Seonghwa is requesting a meeting with you, my lady.”

Lady Lee glanced up from her work, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “Lord Park, you say?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with her pen, considering the implications of such a request. “Very well. Send him in.”

As Seonghwa entered Lady Lee's office, he offered a courteous bow before taking a seat across from her. “Lady Lee, thank you for meeting with me today,” he began, his tone carefully measured.

Lady Lee acknowledged him with a nod, her curiosity piqued. “Of course, Lord Park. What brings you here?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath, his expression a practiced blend of professionalism and feigned humility. “ I wanted to take this moment to address the recent debate we had. I realize it might have seemed more confrontational than I intended. I apologize if it caused any frustration or misunderstanding.”

“I appreciate your candor. Though I assume it is the nature of being a fledgling Lord?” Lady Lee raised an eyebrow, momentarily caught off guard by his directness. 

Seonghwa smiled, his demeanor composed. “It’s certainly true that the role can sometimes lead to passionate discussions. Nevertheless, I believe it’s important to address any concerns directly and with respect. I hope we can move past any previous tensions.”

Lady Lee nodded, her curiosity shifting back to the current discussion. “Very well. What is it you wish to discuss today?”

“I’ve taken your presentation during the Assembly today into consideration. Upon further reflection, I find your proposal quite compelling,” Seonghwa began, his tone both measured and thoughtful. He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. 

“I propose that a public tour of the facility could provide valuable exposure for Cromer Labs and highlight the significant advancements being made there. This initiative could foster a stronger connection with the community, showcasing the lab’s commitment to innovation and excellence.”

He gauged Lady Lee’s reaction, noting her thoughtful expression. With a smooth transition, he continued, “Moreover, such a tour could serve as an educational opportunity, inspiring future generations of scientists and researchers. It would also allow the Assembly to address any public concerns directly, building trust and support for ongoing projects.”

Lady Lee’s reaction was thoughtful as she listened to Seonghwa’s words. She nodded slowly, her eyes focused intently on him as she weighed his proposal. Her demeanor suggested she was carefully considering the broader implications of the tour, reflecting on both its educational value and its potential to address public concerns. 

“Your proposal is indeed intriguing, Lord Park,” she began, her voice calm yet authoritative. “A public tour could certainly enhance our visibility and foster goodwill within the community. I will discuss these points further with my team and assess the proposal’s viability.” 

Seonghwa smiled appreciatively, sensing that his approach had struck the right chord. “Thank you, Lady Lee. I look forward to the possibility of working together on this initiative.”

As Seonghwa left the office with a deep bow, he felt a surge of confidence. His plan was now in motion, and everything needed to access Cromer Labs was set.

“Uh, Dr. Kang?” Minjae began nervously, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yeosang, deeply engrossed in the delicate dissection of a dragon limb, barely glanced up. “Hm?” he replied absently, focused on his work.

“We just got a request from Y/N in Conservation,” Minjae continued, trying to keep his voice steady. “She’s asking for a phenotype sequencing report for a Nettled Kuku.”

Yeosang’s hands paused mid-motion as he finally looked up, a hint of irritation crossing his face. “A Kuku?”

Minjae shifted uncomfortably, sensing the growing tension. “It came in about an hour ago. Y/N mentioned it’s urgent for their ongoing project. Should I prioritize it?”

Yeosang sighed, placing his tools down with a deliberate clink. “Alright, get it sorted.”

Minjae nodded quickly, relief visible in his expression. “Understood.”

As Minjae hurried out of the lab, Yeosang’s thoughts lingered on the oddity of the situation. He returned to his work, his mind racing with questions about your motives and the true urgency behind the request.

“Is it necessary for you to gather every little thing about Ajax?” San scrunched his nose in mild irritation as he watched you sift through the cluttered remnants of the dragon’s lair. 

Mingi had always prided himself on his independence, but at San’s father’s insistence, the Choi family provided Ajax with a dedicated lair in their caverns. Once a grand and imposing space, Ajax’s dwelling was now a chaotic mess of shattered scales and scorched bones. Dust and debris floated through the air with every movement, catching the flickering light of the torch.

“I can’t overlook anything that might have DNA evidence,” you replied, carefully examining a cracked bone that could potentially hold valuable traces. San sighed and leaned against the cavern wall, his arms crossed and a look of both curiosity and annoyance on his face. 

“How are you supposed to find anything useful in all this debris?”

You paused, meeting his gaze with a determined expression. “Ajax’s DNA is all over this place. I need to collect enough samples for Jongho to run it against the phenotype sequencing report and check for a match with the Kuku.”

San raised an eyebrow. “And why not do it through the Institute? Wouldn’t it be more efficient?”

“The report given to the Council isn’t entirely reliable. We need to ensure accuracy ourselves, without any potential bias or errors from external sources,” you replied, shaking your head. 

"I'm surprised you're going through all this trouble for Park Seonghwa," San smirked, watching you pick up one of Ajax’s discarded scales. 

You paused for a moment, meeting his eyes with a resolute expression. “It’s not about helping Park Seonghwa. It’s about uncovering the truth, particularly with a missing child involved and the threat of unstable dragons like Ajax disrupting the natural balance.”

You shook the bag of DNA evidence in front of San, the clink of the vials inside breaking the silence between you. “Let’s get this to Jongho,” you said, determination in your voice as you tucked the bag securely under your arm. 

As you and San emerged from the Choi’s caverns, he glanced over at you with a contemplative look. The two of you walked in silence for a moment, the quiet of the surroundings amplifying the tension between you.

“I couldn’t help but notice how happy you seemed the other night,” he remarked, as you left the Choi’s caverns. His tone suggested there was more to the story. “I have to ask—do you have feelings for Seonghwa?”

His question hung in the air, charged with an underlying sense of knowing. San’s gaze was steady, suggesting he sensed there was more to your relationship with Seonghwa than just friendship. 

You hesitated, caught off guard by his perceptiveness. For a moment, you tried to gather your thoughts, the impact of his words settling in.

“Oh come on,” you said with a half-hearted laugh in an attempt to downplay the situation. “It’s not as complicated as you’re making it out to be. I was his trainer.”

San raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. He continued to observe you as if waiting for a more sincere response. “I’m not buying it,” he said firmly.

You sighed and turned to face him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Look,” you said, trying to downplay the situation, “the idea of being with Seonghwa is laughable. He’ll find a suitable match from a noble Lady—someone who'll make a fine mistress for his House. And I’m sure she won’t yell at him every time he screws up a maneuver on the skyway.”

San’s expression softened slightly, though skepticism remained in his eyes. He leaned in with a teasing tone, “There’s nothing wrong with being honest with yourself, Y/N.”

You glanced down, feeling a twinge of frustration as you fidgeted with the items in your bag. “I’m fine with how things are,” you said, your voice steady but strained. “I’d rather not complicate them.” 

You knew San’s persistent curiosity struck a nerve, one that you were desperately trying to avoid. The thought of potentially disrupting your relationship with Seonghwa loomed over you like a storm cloud–the possibility of a rift was daunting, and you weren’t ready to confront those uncertainties. The idea of opening up about your feelings seemed too risky, especially when the stakes were so high.

As you rummaged through your bag, searching for anything to distract from the uncomfortable conversation, your hand closed around a small jar filled with what looked like fossilized rocks. 

“Keep asking me about my feelings,” you warned with a smirk, “and I’ll throw dragon poop at you.”

<< daylight | xi >>

a/n: I swear more action packed chapters are coming, we've reached the turning point in the story. also thanks to xikers for existing because I needed more characters to make cameos

taglist: @litolmochi @syubseokie @park-simphwa @szakias @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @maliamaiden @signingsongbird

[whywontyoucomeout]

Legend of the Sword and the Swollen Belly

Mei Lin moved like flowing water, her blade flashing in the dim light of the alleyway. Eight months pregnant she may have been, but that did nothing to slow the grace of her movements as she danced between her attackers.

"Look at the size of her!" one of the thugs jeered. "She can barely stand, much less fight!"

Mei Lin said nothing, conserving her breath. Let them underestimate her. It would be their downfall.

The first man lunged forward, swinging a heavy club. Mei Lin pivoted, her swollen belly just barely clearing the path of the weapon. In the same fluid motion, she brought her sword up and across, opening a deep gash in the thug's arm. He cried out and stumbled back.

Two more rushed her from opposite sides. Mei Lin dropped into a crouch, wincing at the strain on her lower back. The thugs collided above her with a meaty thud. As they reeled back, she rose and struck in two swift motions. Both men fell, clutching bleeding legs.

"Who sent you?" Mei Lin demanded, her voice steady despite her elevated breathing.

"Go to hell, you cow!" one of the fallen men spat.

Mei Lin's eyes narrowed. Her next strike left him short one ear.

"I won't ask again," she said coldly.

The remaining thugs looked at each other nervously. This was not how they had expected the night to go. Their boss had assured them this would be an easy job - just rough up some helpless pregnant woman as a warning to her husband. No one had mentioned anything about her being a master swordswoman.

"It was Gao," one of them said quickly. "Boss Gao sent us. Said to send a message to your husband about paying his debts."

Mei Lin nodded grimly. "Tell Gao that my husband's debts died with him three months ago. And if he sends anyone else after me or my child, his debts to me will be paid in blood."

She began to turn away, then paused as another contraction gripped her. The thugs watched in confusion and growing terror as she braced herself against the alley wall, breathing heavily.

After a long moment, Mei Lin straightened. She fixed the men with a steely glare. "Now get out of my sight. My child and I have an appointment to keep."

The thugs scrambled to gather their wounded and flee. Mei Lin watched them go, one hand on her sword, the other resting on her belly where her child kicked furiously.

"Settle down, little one," she murmured. "You'll have your chance to fight soon enough. But first, let's get you safely into this world."

With a final glance down the alley, Mei Lin sheathed her sword and set off toward the midwife's house. It was going to be a long night.

———————

Mei Lin arrived at the midwife's house, her breath coming in short gasps. The old woman, Madam Chen, took one look at her and ushered her inside.

"Is it time?" she asked, helping Mei Lin to a bed.

Mei Lin nodded, then grimaced as another contraction hit. Madam Chen examined her carefully, then frowned.

"False alarm, my dear," she said gently. "Your body is preparing, but the little one isn't ready yet."

Mei Lin sighed, partly in relief and partly in frustration. "How much longer?"

"Could be days," Madam Chen replied. "Get some rest. You'll need your strength."

Reluctantly, Mei Lin allowed herself to be convinced to stay the night. She slept fitfully, her dreams filled with clashing swords and crying infants.

The next morning, feeling refreshed but still very pregnant, Mei Lin made her way home. The streets were quieter than usual, an uneasy tension in the air. As she turned onto her street, she saw why.

A group of men stood outside her house, led by a portly figure she recognized all too well. Boss Gao himself had come to call.

"Ah, Mei Lin," Gao called out as she approached. "I heard you had an eventful evening. I thought I'd come personally to discuss your husband's... outstanding obligations."

Mei Lin's hand went to her sword hilt. "I told your men, Gao. My husband's debts died with him."

Gao's face hardened. "Debts don't die, Mei Lin. They pass to the family. Unless, of course, you'd like to work out an... alternative arrangement." His eyes lingered on her swollen belly.

White-hot rage filled Mei Lin. Without conscious thought, her sword was in her hand.

"Last chance, Gao," she growled. "Leave now, or join my husband in the afterlife."

Gao laughed and gestured to his men. "Take her."

What followed was a blur of steel and blood. Mei Lin fought like a woman possessed, her blade singing through the air. She was outnumbered, but her skill and fury more than made up for it.

One by one, Gao's men fell. Some fled, clutching bleeding wounds. Others lay still on the ground. Through it all, Mei Lin never lost sight of Gao, who watched with increasing panic as his forces dwindled.

Finally, it was just the two of them. Gao fumbled for a hidden dagger, but Mei Lin was faster. Her sword flashed out, knocking the weapon from his hand and opening a gash across his palm.

"Please," Gao whimpered, falling to his knees. "Mercy!"

Mei Lin stood over him, sword point at his throat. "Did you show mercy to my husband when he begged for more time? Did you show mercy when you sent thugs after his pregnant wife?"

She pulled back her sword for the killing blow, but suddenly staggered. A contraction gripped her, far stronger than before. As she gasped in pain, her water broke, soaking her legs.

Gao's eyes widened in terror. "You- you can't kill me now! It's bad luck to spill blood when a child is coming!"

Mei Lin's laugh was half pain, half bitter amusement. "Then it seems today is your lucky day, Gao." She lowered her sword. "Run. Run far and fast. Because if I ever see you again, no superstition will stay my hand."

As Gao scrambled away, Mei Lin sank to her knees, breathing heavily. The baby was coming, and coming fast.

"Madam Chen!" she called out, hoping the midwife was nearby. "I think it's time for real now!"

As neighbors began to emerge, drawn by the sounds of fighting, Mei Lin closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. One battle was over, but another was just beginning. And this time, she and her child would face it together.

———————————-

The Sword, the Swollen Belly, and the Solitary Struggle

Mei Lin's cries for Madam Chen went unanswered. The midwife must have been attending another birth. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as another contraction hit, stronger than before.

No, she thought fiercely. I've faced worse than this. I can do this.

With great effort, Mei Lin pulled herself to her feet. She couldn't give birth here in the street, surrounded by curious onlookers. She needed privacy and safety.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she staggered towards her house. Each step was agony, but she pressed on, one hand on her sword hilt, the other supporting her belly.

Once inside, she barred the door and made her way to the bedroom. She laid out clean sheets and gathered what supplies she could - a knife to cut the cord, clean cloths, water.

As she worked, the contractions intensified. Mei Lin found herself on her hands and knees, panting through the pain. She tried to remember what Madam Chen had told her about breathing, about pushing.

Hours passed in a haze of pain and effort. Mei Lin lost track of time, focused only on the relentless rhythm of contractions. She alternated between walking, squatting, and resting on her side.

"Come on, little one," she gasped. "We've fought so hard to get here. Don't give up now."

The pain reached a crescendo. Mei Lin felt an overwhelming urge to push. She bore down with all her might, a primal scream tearing from her throat.

Nothing happened.

Panic rose again. Was something wrong? She pushed again, and again, but the baby didn't seem to be moving.

Exhausted and terrified, Mei Lin closed her eyes. She thought of all the battles she'd fought, all the challenges she'd overcome. She thought of her husband, of the life growing inside her.

"We are warriors," she whispered fiercely. "And warriors don't give up."

With renewed determination, Mei Lin changed positions. She squatted, bracing herself against the bed. As the next contraction built, she took a deep breath and pushed with everything she had.

This time, she felt movement. Hope surged through her. "That's it," she encouraged herself. "Keep going."

Push after push, Mei Lin fought to bring her child into the world. The pain was beyond anything she'd ever experienced, but she embraced it, used it to fuel her determination.

Finally, with one last Herculean effort, she felt the baby slip free. Mei Lin caught the tiny, slippery body in her hands, her heart pounding.

For a terrifying moment, there was silence. Then, a lusty cry filled the room.

Tears streamed down Mei Lin's face as she brought the baby to her chest. "Hello, my little warrior," she whispered. "Welcome to the world."

With shaking hands, she cut the cord and cleaned the baby as best she could. It was a girl, small but strong, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that seemed to take in everything.

As Mei Lin held her daughter close, she felt a profound sense of peace. They had done it. Against all odds, they had survived.

"Your father would be so proud," she murmured to the now-quiet infant. "And I promise you, my little one, I will always be here to protect you. We'll face whatever comes together."

Outside, the sun was rising, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. A new day was dawning, and with it, a new chapter in Mei Lin's life. She knew there would be challenges ahead, but for now, she allowed herself to rest, her daughter safe in her arms.

The swordswoman had become a mother, and she was ready for her greatest adventure yet.

————————————-

Mei Lin's moment of peace was short-lived. As she cradled her newborn daughter, a familiar pain gripped her abdomen. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

"No," she gasped. "It can't be..."

But the contractions continued, growing in intensity. Mei Lin's mind raced. Twins? How had she not known? How had Madam Chen not realized?

There was no time to ponder these questions. The second baby was coming, and coming fast. Mei Lin gently placed her daughter in a makeshift nest of blankets, then struggled to her feet.

This labor was different. The pain was sharper, more urgent. Mei Lin paced the room, one hand on her still-swollen belly, the other braced against the wall for support.

"Please," she whispered, unsure if she was addressing the baby or some higher power. "Please, let this be quick."

But it wasn't quick. Hours passed, and still the second twin refused to emerge. Mei Lin tried every position she could think of - squatting, standing, lying on her side. Nothing worked.

Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. She had already been through so much - the fight with Gao's men, the grueling first birth. How much more could her body take?

As another contraction wracked her body, Mei Lin found herself on her hands and knees. She stayed there, the cool floor offering some small relief against her feverish skin.

"Please, little one," she begged, her voice hoarse and trembling. "Please come out. Your sister is waiting for you. I'm waiting for you."

She pushed with all her might, over and over again. Sweat poured down her face, mingling with tears of exhaustion and frustration.

"I can't do this," she sobbed. "I can't..."

But even as the words left her mouth, she knew they weren't true. She was Mei Lin, master swordswoman, protector of the weak. She had faced down armies, survived the loss of her husband, brought one child into the world alone. She could do this.

With a guttural cry, Mei Lin gathered the last reserves of her strength. She bore down, pushing harder than she ever had before.

And finally, finally, she felt movement.

"Yes," she gasped. "That's it. Come on, little warrior. You're almost here."

With one last, monumental effort, Mei Lin felt the second baby slip free. She turned, catching the tiny body in her trembling hands.

This baby didn't cry immediately. For a heart-stopping moment, Mei Lin feared the worst. Then, as if sensing her panic, the infant let out a thin wail.

Mei Lin laughed through her tears, bringing the baby to her chest. "There you are," she murmured. "What a journey you've had."

This one was a boy, smaller than his sister but with a fierce grip that spoke of his strength. Mei Lin cleaned him as best she could, then brought both babies together.

As she looked down at her unexpected twins, a wave of love and protectiveness washed over her. They were tiny, vulnerable, perfect. And they were hers.

"My little warriors," she whispered. "My son, my daughter. I don't know what challenges lie ahead of us, but I promise you this - we will face them together. You are the children of a swordswoman and a scholar. You have the strength of your father's mind and your mother's arm. And you will never, ever be alone."

Outside, the sun had completed its journey across the sky. Night was falling, bringing with it a gentle breeze that whispered of new beginnings.

Mei Lin settled back against the wall, a baby in each arm. She was exhausted, sore, and more terrified than she'd ever been in her life. But she was also filled with a fierce joy and determination.

This was not the future she had planned. But as she looked at her children's faces, she knew it was the future she was meant to have. And whatever came next, she would be ready.

[cr4yolaas]

blue spring — my blue spring

prev: until we’re old and wrinkly | masterlist

kageyama finds himself standing between a large mass of her friends. her roommates are huddled to the left of him and his own are crowded on his right, all patiently waiting for the doors to open. it’s suffocating, almost, but when a man he presumes to be her professor emerges from the exhibition room, the air mellows out.

they’re greeted with an assortment of art students standing beside their own works, each bearing a proud stance and some form of smile. he knows it’s rude, but he finds himself beelining to the corner of the room where she stands, and his little group follows suit. their chatter softens to silence as she faces them.

she does her best to treat them as anything but her friends, for the sake of professionalism and a better grade. her arrangement is minimal, but full of various techniques. she had picked up sculpting from the grandpa who lived a few doors down from her, and her efforts are evident in the detailed carvings and rounded edges of a small two-headed lamb (a homage to kageyama’s favorite piece). above the sculpture hangs two painted works, both emanating soft scenes and gentle foliage as opposed to her usual gloomy atmospheres and grotesque imagery. one of them, however, bears a familiar face.

kageyama doesn’t expect to encounter a portrait of himself. the lines are delicate, and gentle ribbons of sunlight spill onto his figure, accenting the pale hue of his skin. he tries to imagine her sitting in her studio, hunched over with aching wrists and only a broken lamp to illuminate her canvas, sketching his features out carefully. there’s a gentle tug to his heart and he can feel his ribcage contract at the sight. he doesn’t know what to say.

“this is my final project, titled ‘my blue spring,’” she begins, her hands intertwined behind her back to hide the fidgeting. “a blue spring tends to represent a season of youth and a fresh start. that is exactly how i would describe my previous spring — one full of shifts and alterations that directed me somewhere better.” her eyes catch his, briefly. “the man featured in this collection is the core of my blue spring, and the two-headed lamb is symbolic of the initial disaster he brought to my once routine lifestyle. two-headed lambs are often frowned upon as a freak of nature, however, this one was welcomed with open arms. i hope that, next spring, there will be even more waiting for me.”

there’s a moment of applause by the little crowd she formed for herself, but for him, it’s nothing but white noise. he can only focus on the warm smile she gifts him with. it’s one he wants to engrave into his memory.

out of courtesy, he follows the group in their expedition around the rest of the room, however, he can’t seem to tear his mind away from the little two-headed lamb she had constructed with her own hands — it was a happier one, a far cry from the desolate creatures he admired before. it had yet to witness the hatred of the world, and it’s wool still maintained a silky fluff, representative of its purity.

the call of his name pulls him out from beneath the water, and he pivots around to face the source. she approaches him swiftly with a slight bounce in her step, and on instinct, his arms wrap around her. “you did great,” he whispers. for a moment, his words are lost on his tongue. he has too much to say, so instead, he suffices for a small, “i loved it. all of it.”

“i’m glad,” she whispers back, and he resists placing a kiss to her forehead in fear of being teased by his roommates who stand only a few feet away. “after all, you were my muse for this exhibit.”

the sentiment makes his chest flutter and tighten. “will i be your muse for the next one, too?”

“of course. you’ll be my muse in every life after this, i hope.”

kageyama tobio, once a classmate she only had to tutor, stands before her as the sole recipient of all the love she was so hesitant to give before. she’s more than content with that.

𝜗𝜚 it's finally over ^^ thank u for reading !

𝜗𝜚 i'll probably make a moodboard showing an idea of what yn's art style is because the description of the paintings might be a little weird without that visualization ... but just think of classical romanticism

𝜗𝜚 bros gc was split on whether yn and kags would get together in less than or more than a year. obvs bo and shoyo said more than a year LOL

𝜗𝜚 hopefully u all enjoyed and i hope that this chapter makes sense bc i love it sm

taglist: @mfcherry @eggyrocks @scxrcherr @yuminako @girlkissersco @diorzs @causenessus @kyo-kyo1 @k0z3me @shironagi @lovingvi @bunninio @hisfuture @lilchubbyyy @gsyche @ghostreader0307 @fiannee @minimarkive @aboutkiyoomi

[kkongdakz]

“ DRUNK OF YOU. ” ft. zhang hao

summary : you don't know how or when this rivalry between you and hao developed, but you knew you'd never lose against him. even when it came to drinking more alcohol than the boy.

hao x gn!reader, genre : rivals to somewhat lovers, warnings : angst if you squint, partying, alcohol consumption, drunk y/n and hao, kissing, maybe a little suggestive, wc : 2,3k>

never in your life had you liked going out too much, especially at some random student parties where the watchword was to end up completely drunk. shuffling your feet as you entered the house, where the smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes tingled your nostrils, the loud music quickly assaulted your ears. squinting and sighing, ready to turn back and run to your house, a hand suddenly and firmly grasped your wrist — pivoting on yourself, ready to strike violently the person who had dared to touch you, your gaze fell on your best friend's face, her eyes bloodshot and a silly grin hanging on her face.

« y/n, you're here ! » she shouted over the music, her voice destabilized by the alcohol she'd been drinking since she'd arrived. a worried look appeared on your face : who could have let her drink so much and not look after her in your absence? her boyfriend was definitely really a good-for-nothing. rolling your eyes as you hooked your arm around her waist, despite your selfish self wanting to leave her here and go home, you follow her into the madding crowd. « i'm so happy, we can have fun together ! follow me ! » she shouted again, jumping up and down as she spilled half her drink on the floor. you loved her very much, but you hated it when she got into a state like that. but you didn't even have time to say anything to her, she was already pulling you into another room without asking your opinion.

letting your eyes wander here and there, taking care not to step on anyone, your pupils came into contact with a face that was all too familiar for your liking. in one of the corner of the living room, a glass in his hand and a smirk that made you want to unscrew his head, the one who could best be described as your rival, stood in the violet-blue light of the room. zhang hao seemed to be enjoying the party, but he didn't seem drunk at all — maybe he hadn't been drinking, just like you. not like you're interested anyway. but the boy with freshly red-dyed hair must have felt a lingering gaze on his silhouette, as he caught a glimpse of your face before you disappeared from his field of vision. finally something interesting, he thought, pulling his best friend's arm to try and catch you in your tracks.

arriving in the second room, your best friend handed you a glass of alcohol she'd just served, before pointing to the ping pong table in the middle of the room. « i want to play beer pong with you, » she explained, giving you the sweetest eyes in the world as you were already shaking your head negatively, « please y/n, please ! pleaseeeee ! »

« i'll play against you. » a voice behind you made you sigh quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose, knowing full well who had just spoken. leaning forward slightly while you turned your head to face the boy, a shocked expression painted your best friend's face, « oh hey hao ! are you here to play too? » — the boy's eyes never left yours, even though you weren't the one who asked the question. instead, he simply crossed his arms over his chest, nodding positively before approaching the table when the previous game had just finished. « i'm sure hao can drink more than y/n anyway. » you heard to your right, which made your blood boil and awakened your competitive spirit. you'd chosen to remain reasonable, but the urge to wipe that damned smirk off his damn lips was stronger than you. so, more determined than ever, you swallowed the content of your red cup in one gulp before settling down on the other side of the ping pong table, your determined gaze sending a chill down some people's spines.

« alright, moron, i hope you're ready to take the shame of your life, because i don't intend to stop drinking before you do. » you declared, warming the ping-pong balls between your fingers and not taking your eyes off your opponent. hao let a mocking laugh leave his lips, his gaze even darker and more defiant than before, with his index finger pointing at you, « you're going to go home begging me to forget about this night, y/n. i guarantee it. »

and that was the start of a long, long night of competition, with beer pong and line-shots, each more treacherous than the last. at first, everything went well, as you expected, you won. a first play, a second, then a third... but by the fourth, your hand no longer seemed to want to aim the cups correctly, while a group of attentive spectators formed around you. hao seemed jubilant to see you lose so easily, despite the rosy color that had settled on his cheekbones after a few drinks in one go — but you weren't about to let him get you down, and decided to change places so you could swallow shots of vodka against him.

« are you sure you don't want to give up? » he whispered in your ear, his hand clasped around your waist as you filled the glasses with vodka under the applause of the other almost-too-drunk students. turning your gaze towards him, your eyes plunging into his, you offered him a smile as false and provocative as possible, before handing him one of the twenty-four shots you had just served. « good luck hao, you know that vodka is my specialty, right? » — the innocent tone you used caused the boy to press his tongue against his cheek, his eyes riveted to the glass he grabbed without waiting, making the liquid run down his throat for the next second. and without waiting, you imitated his movements, swallowing your twelve shots of vodka in quick succession. and again. and again. and again.

then suddenly, the world began to spin around you, and you felt the sudden need to isolate yourself and drink a large glass of water. the people around you had dissipated — finally, you thought, and before you could muster all the strength you had left to walk upstairs to reach the bathroom, the only sight that interested you was a certain red-haired boy, face asleep against the bar.

caught up in an uncontrollable fit of giggles, feeling the walls under your palm to stay on your feet, you finally reached the room you were interested in. raising your arms to the sky and hopping slightly after opening the door, you watched your reflection in the mirror, a big, victorious smile occupying your whole face. « i win ! i win ! i win ! » you shouted to yourself, laughing even harder. obviously completely drunk, you did a little victory dance, congratulating yourself on your exploits — even if the reward was a terrible headache the next morning.

approaching the sink to keep yourself upright, you turned on the tap to splash some water on your face, praying that you'll be able to sleep it off quickly and be home in an hour. a long sigh left your lips, and you straightened up before hearing a heavy crash against the door, forcing you to turn around to see where the noise was coming from. putting your hand against your mouth to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing, your gaze fell on hao's silhouette, who had just smashed his face on the floor trying to get into the bathroom.

you didn't even try to pick him up — the boy was already on his feet before you even had time to pull out your phone to take a picture of him. « are you laughing at me? » he asked, between a hiccup and a falsely annoyed tone, which made him much less credible. laughing as you crossed your arms against your chest and leaned back against the sink, you grinned as you watched him clear away the dirt on his clothes from his fall, « yeah, i am. what are you going to do about it? »

gently raising his gaze towards you, you noted the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. the air was warmer, tenser — and it wasn't because there was no air-conditioning in the room. why does hao seem so much more attractive to you now? you've always found him handsome, there's no point in lying : he has irresistible charm, pretty brown eyes and a mouth that's perfect for kissing. but you'll never admit such a thing out loud — you'd rather die.

« i'll come over there and make you shut up then. » he finally declared, putting his shirt back on in a nonchalant way that still let you catch a glimpse of the well-defined line of his abs. he definitely knew what he was doing when he did it, there was no way he couldn't feel the tension in the air under the subdued bathroom light. especially when a wry smile suddenly appeared on your pretty lips, the same smile that haunted his thoughts day and night. « you can always try. » you finally answer, running your hand through your hair without ever taking your eyes off him. and that's all it took for hao to put his words into action, hurrying his heavy steps towards you before grasping your lips with his.

your eyes opened wide, your hands fumbled in the air without knowing how to react : was he really kissing you to stop you talking? it was rough, a bit too rushed, but warm, so warm. after long seconds of hesitation, your eyelids closed to let you enjoy the madness of the moment — kissing the person you so despised was definitely not on the list of things to do at this party. but under your drunken mind, under the subdued light and the mad desire of your heart, your body began to act on its own : your hands slipping around his waist, until your cold fingers brushed his skin, his ribs shivering at your touch. hao hurriedly ran his hands over your cheeks, your skin burning under his fingers from the alcohol, manipulating your face to tilt it to the side and kiss you harder, with more brutality, sliding his tongue against yours in a moment of inattention on your part.

but despite everything that was happening inside you, the feelings and sensations racing through your body, which seemed to be losing all its equilibrium, and the desire to continue as everything seemed so good to you — something definitely seemed out of your control. how could you have ended up in such a situation? breathless, hao pulled away from your mouth for a few seconds, his breath crashing against your lips, just to easily lift your thighs and sit you on the edge of the sink. « was that supposed to happen? » you sighed breathlessly, your chest rising and falling at an abnormal speed, your breathing jerky, « that felt like a crime against humanity. »

a chuckle left hao's bruised lips, your lipstick now smeared on them. you must have looked like two beautiful messes by now. even though your head was screaming at you that this wasn't a good thing, your hands clutched at his top, the fabric crumpled under your fingers. « oh yea? » he whispered, brushing your lips with his, falsely nibbling the lower part without ever kissing you again, even if you were dying to feel him against you again. « hao.. » you say almost pleadingly, your fingers pressing desperately on the small of his back to hold his body against you, and you swore you saw a wry smile take possession of his mouth before he lost himself against your lips a second time.

your stomach was strangely warm, your muscles numb and your heart racing, as if you'd just run around the soccer pitch five times. you could blame it all on the alcohol, like the side effects of all the vodka currently coursing through your veins, but the truth was that no one but hao was responsible for all those sensations. « this is so wrong.. » you murmured, against his swollen lips, even though you were pushing them away to feel them as close to yours as possible.

« if so, then stop me, darling, » he replied, pulling his lips away to place a wet kiss against your neck, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your thigh, « you tempt me, y/n, » he continued, in a more suave tone that made you lose all your composure, with light, barely audible sighs escaping from the back of your throat, « ..and you drive me insane. »

under normal circumstances, you'd be more than surprised to hear such words coming from the mouth of the one and only zhang hao, the one that made your college years so much more stressful than they needed to be. but you'd be lying if you didn't dare admit to him that your heart was constantly racing because of him. from the start, even if his favourite pastime was to drive you completely mad, hao had always been able to make something resonate in you, in a way that no one had ever done before. it was very cliché to say that your rival was making you fall into a spiral of love that you should never have touched in the first place, but the truth was there, and against all odds, it was mutual. even though it was probably the alcohol that had helped him admit it to you.

« fuck it. » you suddenly let go, your hands leaving his shirt to grip his cheeks with determination. deflecting his face from your neck, you crushed your lips against his, with much more desire than you would have liked. and you felt him smile against your lips, his hands moving gently up to grip your hips and encircle your waist firmly. he was right after all, you were probably going to beg him to forget about this night when you've come back to your senses and are no longer under his charms because of the alcohol you've swallowed.

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