#childhood friends to lovers???

[isawjamfirst]

what if they had met as children and bcame friends since then huh WHAT THEN

[amberjazmyn]

"i see him in your eyes, i hear him in your laugh. i think that's why i always found my way back to you..."💔🫶

pairing : charles leclerc x bianchi!fem reader

summary : every anniversary since losing her brother jules, elena bianchi always found her way back to her older brother's godson and the one person she's always loved, charles leclerc.

warnings : tears, mentions of jules bianchi, mentions of jules' crash in suzuka, mention of his coma, charles and bianchi!reader distancing themselves from one another, childhood friends to lovers???

a/n : anything about charles talking about jules just destroys me so i decided i'd write my own piece about that very thing but with a happy ending because i just can't have it be depressing the entire time. also for the 2020 segment, i did change the date of the italian grand prix to make it fit the timeline so please know i did that on purpose for the storyline and for the fact that elena and charles always meet with each other on the same day every year since 2015 even though it's obvious they have seen each other on other days but this specific date being the most important one! and i also forgot that july comes after june so i completely messed up charles' dad's passing as he passed away in june 2017, not july 2017 so i've just kept it the same month as jules but the actual date of the 20th has stayed the same!

2014 - the accident

elena bianchi thought what she was seeing wasn't real and that it was a nightmare of sorts. of course, being the younger sister of marussia f1 team driver jules bianchi, elena knew accidents during a race were bound to happen. it was due to the nature of the sport because it was always unpredictable and it involved nineteen other drivers in really fast cars that could sometimes easily crash and spin out of control. especially if something was missed by the mechanics and the rest of the driver's team. an accident to this calibre hadn't happened since aryton senna in 1994 and it wasn't supposed to. and, elena never thought of the day that her older brother would get into an accident where he wouldn't be able to walk out of it. because accidents like this hadn't happened since senna.

elena was in suzuka for the japanese grand prix 2014. she had gone alongside the rest of her family as well as the leclerc family. happily watching the race when all of a sudden, another collison happens. we say another because the reason why jules crashed was because of a crane that was still on the track still clearing debris from an earlier crash. and unfortunately due to the bad weather, jules didn't see it, lost control of his car and because of that, this accident had occured and it wasn't a pretty accident.

speaking of the leclerc's, it wasn't the entire family at the circut. sitting with elena was the middle son of pascale and herve leclerc, charles leclerc. lorenzo, the older brother and arthur, the younger brother, were at the hotel watching the race there since arthur woke up feeling unwell. lorenzo deciding to stay with his younger brother since arthur was still a bit too young for pascale and herve to feel comfortable about being left alone in a foreign country. pascale and herve were sitting with elena and jules' parents, phillipe and christine. jules and elena's other siblings, brother tom and sister melanie, similar to arthur and lorenzo, were at the hotel getting over earaches that they had both developed overnight, a floor above the two leclerc boys. so, despite not all of the families present at the actual circut, they had all seen jules' accident. because even though tom, melanie, lorenzo and arthur were in the hotel, they were still watching the race on the tv. they would never, ever miss a race the leclerc's and bianchi's. however, this was a race that they wished they all missed. jules included.

tears immediately welled into elena's eyes as she screamed from the tops of her lungs. it seemed like the entire garage and everywhere around her had heard elena's scream. it felt as though so many eyes were on her as she wept over her brother and his crash. charles immediately pouncing into action to try to get the girl he had watched grow up alongside, the two only a year apart in age, to stop crying and panicking. it tore his heart into two seeing his godfather crash and then his godfather's sister, the girl he had the fattest crush on, be so unsure of his survival. as she fell to pieces into his arms as they watched as the race got red flagged since it quickly became obvious that jules wasn't responsive.

any other crash of jules, everyone was always so certain that he'd jump out of the car and walk away with nothing but a few physical bruises with a little bit of a bruised ego. except, it seemed like this time, everyone thought the opposite. and that included jules' favourite sister, elena.

as soon as they were able to extricate jules out of the space he had been crushed into, between his car, barrier and the crane, he was taken to the nearest hospital in suzuka. and obviously, the bianchi's and leclerc's weren't that far behind. they knew they couldn't leave their brother and son all alone in a foreign country after having what could easily be labeled as his worst ever racing accident since joining f1.

🥀

elena could no longer feel her legs or her face. her legs from how long she had been sitting, curled up in that god-awful uncomfortable plastic hospital chair in the waiting room. her face from all the tears she had cried. whether they were wiped away from her own fingers or charles', the tears still didn't forget to render elena's face into pure numbness to the point it felt icy and sore to touch.

she truly had no idea how long she had been sitting on this chair, in this waiting room, in this hospital in suzuka for. had it been minutes? hours? days? it surely hadn't been weeks just yet but, she wouldn't have known because as far as her cloudy eyes let her see, she was not able to read any of the clocks that were hanging up in every other corner in the japanese hospital. she wasn't even sure how she had changed out of what she was wearing on race day and into the leggings (that were her sister's as she looked closer) and the oversized hoodie (which was one of charles', hence why it was oversized) that she finally came to notice that she had on. because of this new revelation, that was when she spoke for the first time since jules' accident.

"...quel jour est-il? et qu'est-ce que je porte? je ne me souviens pas avoir changé de vêtements," elena whispered, her voice quiet due to her not using it since the accident what day is it? and what am i wearing? i don't remember changing my clothes

"c'est lundi, elena. et tu ne te souviens pas avoir changé parce que je l'ai fait. tu portes les leggings de ta mère et mon sweat à capuche..." charles speaks up as elena looks up at him, feeling herself just relax for the first time since the accident it's monday, elena. and you don't remember changing because i did. you're wearing your mum's leggings and my hoodie

"ah, merci charlie..." elena whispers as she digs her hands further into the sleeves of his hoodie as he smiles softly thanks

sighing, charles sits himself next to elena. he had been sitting with his younger brother arthur, who was only fourteen, who had wanted to stay at the hospital so he could at least see jules one final time. the leclerc's were having to leave japan soon but arthur (and charles) begged if they could see jules once more before having to go back to monaco. and, of course, pascale and herve could never say no to their youngest and middle children. and, it was obvious that phillipe and christine were happy to take guardianship over them since lorenzo, pascale and herve were back at the hotel, already having said their pieces to jules about wanting to see him open his eyes and wake up soon and reminding him just how much they loved him and the family. they also didn't want to feel like they were overcrowding the bianchi family, not that the leclerc's ever did overcrowd the bianchi's. but, they just didn't want to risk it so they just sent over charles and arthur to say their pieces to the family and jules before having to leave back to monaco.

so, with charles next to her, elena didn't know how or why but, all of a sudden, it felt like her world had continued to turn again. it no longer felt like someone had pressed pause on her life. whenever elena and charles were together, it was as though their worlds were reignited. any time they were apart from each other, it was as though their worlds were stuck on hold. as though they were waiting for each other since no one else was apart of their world but them two.

placing her head against charles' shoulder, she spoke up again but in english. speaking french was just too complicated for her now, "charlie, are you sure you need to go back to monaco?" the seventeen year old basically whined out like a child as charles let out a breathy chuckle

"i'm very sure, elena. unfortunately, we can't stay here in japan forever. as much as i think we all wish we could, we just can't..." charles sighed as he rested his own head against elena's, their hands resting in their own laps, inches away from the other person's

"...if you had the choice to, would you stay here in japan with jules?" elena was shocked she could even bring herself to say her brother's name as charles smiled softly

"as if you felt the need to even ask that, elena! but, since you want an answer, if i had the choice, yes, i would stay here in japan with jules, et avec toi aussi" charles sighed, hoping his french whisper wasn't heard as he also wanted to stay in japan to be with elena, whilst it was heartbreaking for elena because jules was her brother, her heart suddenly broke more wondering how charles must feel and with you, too

sure, being a godfather was a special connection to have with someone but, some people would say it's not as close as a brother or sister or a legitimate, biological family member. however, since pascale and herve did pick jules as charles' godfather, it was clear that her brother meant a hell of a lot to charles and to the leclerc family. and now it hurt her more because she wished she could see how much it was hurting charles. only because charles was still trying to be strong for elena, her parents and her other two siblings. maybe even for his own family as well. they all had cried, the bianchi's and the leclercs, all of them except for charles. but elena was adamant to change that since she could never fully stay away from charles leclerc. and charles could never fully stay away from elena bianchi.

since her parents and siblings were in the hospital room with jules, arthur in there with them, elena realised this was the only opportunity she'd get to comfort charles without anyone else interferring and getting in the middle of it. grabbing the hand of charles that was closest to hers, she squeezed it tightly as the two teenagers made eye contact with one another. charles' eyes were huge but filled with such sadness and grief that he had been clearly holding back ever since the accident. the minute elena had collapsed to the floor in tears at suzuka circut in the marussia garage, charles shut off every emotion so he could take care of her. doing the exact same for everyone else in his family and the bianchi family, completely ignoring his own grief and feelings. charles was only seventeen but he was already the protector type and those who knew him and knew him well, understood that. however, it then hit elena and she was glad it wasn't obvious. who protects the protector? and, the most logical answer in elena's mind right now was no one. so, now their jobs were being switched, elena was the protector and charles was the protectee, the one being protected and comforted.

"...i'm so sorry charlie, since the accident, you've been so focused on making sure everyone else is okay that no one's stopped to ask you if you're okay," elena whispered as she held charles' hands tightly, holding them in her lap as charles all of a sudden couldn't hold eye contact anymore

it only took that one, little sentence, that broke charles and took down his protector guard for those passing through the hospital hallways to just see a slither of. after elena said that small sentence, it didn't take much longer for charles' floodgates to open and for his grief to finally be felt after keeping it hidden away since the accident. as charles cried and cried, elena held him tightly, his head hidden away in the crook of his own hoodie, that looked giant on elena's teeny tiny petite frame which was baggy on her shoulders. whispering a bunch of sweet comforts and nothings in french, elena knew there was really nothing that could soothe and take away their shared grief except for the one thing they weren't going to get for a while. jules.

🥀

it wasn't until an hour away from visiting hours finishing that charles and elena felt comfortable enough to go into jules' room and visit him. the rest of elena's family alongside arthur had all said everything they wanted to say for the day and for arthur before he'd have to go back to the hotel and then monaco with his family. however, it had taken charles and elena that long to go visit their godfather and brother because it was obvious to the both of them that the other was trying to figure out what they were going to say to jules before even seeing him for the first time.

that was the other thing that hasn't been mentioned yet. this was the first time that the two seventeen-year-olds were seeing jules since the actual accident at the track. both of them, without knowing, at separate times had attempted to go visit jules but both of them froze the second they went to turn the door handle to jules' hospital room. neither of them had the courage to go in and visit jules on their own. but, now that they were together and had each other, they knew they could now go and visit jules before they wouldn't be able to do so. since after this night, charles and the leclerc's would be leaving back to monaco whilst the bianchi's stayed in japan until they were able to repatriate jules back to france.

taking in deep breaths, looking at each and holding hands tightly, charles leclerc and elena bianchi walked into jules' hospital room. just like the day of his accident, elena nearly fell to the floor in hysterics at seeing her brother again. but this time looking so small and hurting in what looked like the tiniest, most uncomfortable hospital bed. and charles was there, holding her tightly as he prevented her from falling to the floor and getting hysterical. but this time, charles didn't hold back his own emotions. this time it was clear to elena that seeing jules again after not seeing him since the accident was putting charles through the same pain that it was putting elena through. and the two of them cried together again, but this time by jules' hospital side. the both of them hugging his hospital bed as though their tears and soft hugs, as not to hurt him, would heal him and make him wake up as though it was a disney movie.

but it wasn't a disney movie. there was nothing they could do to magically heal jules. as much as they wished they could, they weren't able to. they didn't have the healing powers to do so. apparently, according to the nurses and doctors at the hospital, they had done everything they were able to do and now, it was all up to jules and if he wanted to continue. or get better enough that they could repatriate him to france so the hospital staff there, in his home country, could use their skill and technology to help jules get better. but, if the only thing jules could do was get himself stable enough for just the flight back to france, then that was more than okay for everyone. and it seemed as though charles and elena agreed with that statement as well.

now, they started talking to each other, including jules into it even though they knew he couldn't respond. it was just a safety thing for the two teenagers. it seemed as though that wherever the bianchi siblings were, charles wasn't that far behind. or, the alternative, wherever charles and jules were, elena wasn't that far behind.

"...as much as i hate hospitals, i don't think i can say that i hate this one..." elena spoke up, trying to at least get a small giggle out of her and charles - it worked, it was only a low chuckle but it was something

"...jesus christ, elena!" charles chuckled, jules' hand slipping out of his own as he turned to face elena with a little look of disappointment

"i know, bad timing but, i don't know what else to say at this point!" elena shrugged, charles knew that she didn't know what else to say so he smiled and suggested the same thing he always did when elena struggled to say something in a tense situation

"tell the story, elena..." charles whispered as elena smiled, her eyes lighting up as she remembered the story from when she and charles were a little bit younger than they currently were, maybe around the same age as arthur currently was

three years ago

out of the two familes, the bianchi's and leclerc's, jules, elena, charles and arthur were the closest. whilst jules and elena had another two siblings, a brother tom and sister melanie, they were a lot older than jules and elena. which meant they didn't really hang out as much with charles and arthur but rather lorenzo who was much older than charles and arthur. even then, the two older bianchi's and the older leclerc didn't see each other often due to doing other things. but the other four, the younger four, were super close to the point that it didn't matter if they were sitting on the couch or bunched up in the back of the huge bianchi family car on a roadtrip across europe, they were always piled on top of each other. it was as though the four of them had absolutely no concept of what the term "personal space" meant. because, if they were completely honest, they did not understand the term of personal space. but, they didn't mind it at all.

right now, the four teenagers/young adult were in the lounge room at the bianchi home in nice, france watching a movie together. the movie they were watching was what the oldest of the core four, jules, considered to be a classic. it was disney's hercules but, honestly, the other three couldn't fault jules' comment in saying that it was a classic because it was. when the movie was released, charles and elena were barely even born, the both of them being born in 1997 whilst arthur wasn't even a thought in existance since charles still hadn't been born just yet.

because hercules the disney movie was a musical, there were songs throughout and it had suddenly come to what jules says is his ultimate favourite disney song: i won't say (i'm in love). the song that is sung by megara who insists throughout majority of the song and movie up until that point that she won't say she's in love with hercules even though she so desperately is. using that song as a subtle way to tell his godson, charles and his sister, elena that that song describes those two perfectly. because it was so blindly and painfully obvious to everyone else except those two at just how in love they were. and every time jules played this movie with charles and elena with him, even arthur, they always rolled their eyes whenever this song comes on in the movie. all because jules would remove himself from their pile that is them unable to give one another personal space and dramatically perform the song as if he was the next best singer. which was something, if you couldn't already guess, he wasn't. which is why everyone always reminded jules that when he did sing, that they were glad he was an f1 driver and he should probably stick to that job instead.

except, this time, before jules could even think about peeling himself away from sitting in between charles and arthur, elena on the other side of charles, elena peeled herself away from charles. peeling herself off the couch, elena stood in the middle of the lounge room and begun to dramatically perform megara's song i won't say (i'm in love).

because this was the first time they had seen elena do this, the three boys started crying with laughter the second elena began to sung, replicating the exact same dramatic and overexagerated moves that jules would do. unfortunately, due to how much elena had started to laugh and get hysterical, she fell to the floor crying because she was laughing too hard. she didn't even make it to the halfway point of the song before she collapsed to the floor. elena was only on the floor in hysterics for less than two minutes before one after the other, the three boys also fell on the floor. but, not really the floor. remembering that those four don't know the concept of personal space, they couldn't deal with not touching each other for more than a few minutes before they'd be touch starved and need to be on top of one another again.

after the core four finally stopped their crying from laughter gag on the floor, they finally pulled each other up and moved back to the couch so they could finish the movie. even though they had seen it so many times because of jules, they seemed to love it more and more each time. and back on the couch, it felt as though charles and elena had gotten closer to one another. whilst they were already as close as they could get on the couch beforehand, it seemed as though they were even closer by the time jules could catch a cheeky look over. and with a satisfied smile on his face, his plan had worked. a plan that charles and elena would never find out soon but, in the future they sure would because jules had written out a letter detailing his entire plan.

but jules never imagined not being there when charles and elena would first hear of the plan. the letter with the plan detailed out hadn't been found by either charles or elena but, arthur had been given the detailed letter/plan. waiting years before it would actually be found by one of them.

"...i cannot believe that story happened all those years ago, feels like it only happened yesterday or something..." arthur's small voice came out as he entered the hospital room, joining the teary faces of his brother and best friend

"...yeah, feels like that doesn't it, thuthur?" elena spoke softly, holding her arm out to welcome arthur in, it was clear that wherever he was, he had started crying again and it broke elena's heart so her next best thing was to comfort him with a tight hug

the same tight hug that she gave charles, except maybe, arthur's hug was less tight but still tight enough that it let arthur let out the few tears that he had left that he had refused to cry before joining his brother and elena. the only person she reserved those bone-crushing tight hugs for were charles. now that she was giving out these hugs to charles in the situation they were in with jules, it made her upset. she remembered something that jules had told her before he went to his car before the start of the race.

charles noticed as he watched the way she looked between her brother and charles as she let go of arthur as he sat down in the chair behind him. charles could tell that her brain was working hard to figure something out but it suddenly overwhelmed her too much and she had to force herself to sit down before her body could think of collapsing. charles also watched as he saw elena go through what looked like the memory or flashback of what jules had told her. he couldn't help but feel curious and if the flashback of what jules had told her was about him.

5th october 2014 - japanese grand prix 2014

elena bianchi was hanging out with her brother jules before the japanese grand prix at suzuka. it had been a few years since elena had gone to one of the international races since the teenager had been focusing on high school. but now that she was seventeen and about to finish her final year and with the execeptional grades she had been recieving for the first half of the year, jules, with their parents permission, had gifted his sister with vip paddock passes to the japanese grand prix. because he knew it was held perfectly within the week after her final day of actual senior year and a week before she was to start her exams, he knew it would be the perfect congrats present before she'd have to go back and smash out her final ever exams before her actual formal graduation.

so, that's where elena was currently. of course, because she was still just under being of adult age, the rest of the bianchi's had joined but so had the leclerc family. however, the entire trip, the core four, jules, elena, charles and arthur had been split up. split into twos, it was jules & arthur and elena & charles. however, that didn't mean that the bianchi and leclerc siblings didn't hang out with each other cause they did. however, elena and charles were more interested in catching up with just each other. since elena had been at the tailend of her senior year in nice, france and charles had been pushing himself to the bone to get into the formula series since he was following after his godfather, jules', footsteps. and because they were so busy, it had been a while since the two seventeen-year-old's were able to catch up with each other and have a proper conversation without having to worry about school work or racing.

it was in that moment, as jules, from afar, watched as his godson charles and sister elena reunited after what felt like forever. running into one another's arms as though they were the main characters in a romantic movie or even a book series, elena giggles as she wraps her whole body around charles who catches her seamlessly. whilst the core four had always been tightknit, there was no denying from anyone who knew the core four and who was friends with them that elena and charles had the closest friendship. like, if anyone was to ask either of them who their best friend was out of the core four, they both would say the other person. but they would then deny it when the same people said that they were in love with each other but were hiding it. jules was always (mostly) on the side of his godson and sister however, it was this moment that he truly recognised and realised that maybe those people who said his godson and sister were in love with another were right.

no two people who are just "friends" hug that tightly as though they're scared the other is just going to disappear into thin air. he had never realised either just how tightly the two of them hugged. of course he had always seen it since, like mentioned before, the core four (jules, elena, charles and arthur as a reminder) have no concept of what the term "personal space" means. however, this level that charles and elena were on was a completely different one that jules and arthur had not been exposed to until this very moment. jules then noticed arthur on the other side of the room. fourteen-year-old arthur, just like jules, had noticed for the first time just how tightly charles and elena hug each other.

finally, after that felt like an eternity, no, seriously, that hug was a whole five minutes, maybe six or seven, charles and elena had to part ways. charles had promised arthur that he'd walk him back to the hotel where lorenzo was waiting for him. arthur had woken up sick but thought he'd feel better enough to try spend a little bit of time at the track. but it was clear that when jules saw arthur, it was clear the poor teenager no longer felt well enough and just wanted to be back at the hotel as quick as possible. however, the hug between his brother and elena happened so arthur was delayed a little bit. obviously though, when charles did reach arthur, he did apologise and promised him he'd let his younger brother wear his fleecie hoodie and have some of his lollies to make him feel better. waving goodbye to the two leclerc brothers, jules and elena stood next to each other before making their way back into the marussia garage. but, not before jules had to say something though.

"you've never hugged me as tightly in the way you just hugged charles. kinda makes me sad that you don't hug me for that long either. i thought you loved me more than charles since he's always getting those special hugs. when am i gonna get one?" jules whispered, nudging his little sister, a tease in his voice as elena started to get shy and embarrased, a pinky-red blush overcoming her face

"oh stop it jules, mr dramatics! how about if you make the podium in today's race, i pinky promise you, i'll give you one of my special hugs that are only reserved for charles after the podium ceremony!" elena proposes, she knew that her brother had been working his butt off and was extremely close at reaching the podium

so, it seemed as though this bet was the power and fight he needed to make sure he got that podium. he really wanted that special hug that was literally only reserved for charles. no one else in the bianchi or leclerc family were given the special hug that lasted for five,six,seven minutes. just charles.

"you got yourself a deal, elena bianchi! you best believe i'm gonna get that podium and i'm gonna get that hug!" jules smiled with a little bit of cheeky ego as the siblings broke out of the pinky hold, elena rolling her eyes

"anyway, why do you hug charles like that? why are you so worried he's just gonna disappear on you?" jules questioned softly as elena scoffed, shaking her head not wanting to tell her older brother that it was because of how much she missed him

"oh, no reason really. it's just, it started one day where i accidentally hugged him a little too tight and for a little bit too long. i apologised since i thought it was quite embarrassing but, he reassured me that it wasn't and that it was actually quite comforting. and, yeah, it kind of just continued after that really, why? what's your theory on why we hug like that?" elena questioned, shrugging her shoulders as at first, jules was gonna say his actual answer but decided against it

"because you are head over heels in love with him and are too shy to admit it so you act all flirty but call it just you two being really good friends?" jules teases as elena shoves him as the two of them hysterically laugh before jules then got serious, deciding he needed to tell the true answer of what he thought was why those two hugged the way they do

"but in all seriousness elena, i think i know why you and charles hug in the way you do. and i think you do too but you're too scared to admit it to me which is fair. but, i do think it's because you miss me a lot because i'm constantly away and charles looks so much like me that he's basically my replacement for when i'm not around. and because you're so scared you're going to lose me, you project the same fears and worries onto charles, hence why you hug him so tightly and for the amount of time that you do...am i correct?" jules sighs sadly, noticing that elena was about to lie but decided not to since there was no point when it was clear that he had hit the nail on the donkey quite well

"yeh...you are very much correct. ten points to hufflepuff mr bianchi!" elena smiled, sarcasm in her tone as her lip trembled

it became clear to jules at this point that this race in particular was scaring his sister for some reason. he couldn't put a finger on it but, he could sense that elena had a sixth sense about something going wrong. whether that was due to the weather forcasted for the race or something else that could make a race even more dangerous, it was something. so, he pushed it. he wanted to comfort his little sister, convince her that everything would be okay and that nothing bad was going to happen. that he was as safe as he could possibly be and that they'd see one another after the race. especially when it was considered that this was elena's graduation present from jules.

however, jules would never know just how wrong he was in reassuring his little sister that he'd be fine...and now charles realised that his best friend was having a panic attack.

thankfully, he knew how to deal with them but, the one that elena was having was one he had never seen before. he truly should have seen it coming when he noticed the way she was looking between him and jules but, he just didn't. but thankfully, charles managed to get elena to relax and to take some breaths in and out.

now that she was calm, charles began talking to her, "...what was that about elena, what flashback did you just travel through?" he whispered, holding her tightly as the constant beeping of jules' machines soothed the both of them, arthur taken out of the room by christine during elena's panic attack

"i...i was back at the track here at suzuka. it was after you had dropped thuthur back to the hotel to enzo since he hadn't started feeling better like he thought he had. jules had mentioned about the long five minute tight hug we had had and how he wished he'd get one since he never gets them and was wondering when he was ever going to get one...we had a pinky promise that if he made it to the podium that i would give him one after the podium ceremony..." elena's voice cut off at the end, tears welling in her eyes as her breathing started to get shaky as charles felt his heart break

he then remembered a conversation he had had with jules a little bit after the conversation jules had had with elena. jules had revealed to charles the reason why elena always hugged him as tightly as she did. making him, charles, realise that that was why he also hugged elena as tightly as he did. charles also hugged elena so tight because he had the same worries about her that she had about jules. just like elena projected her fears about losing jules onto charles, charles projected his fears about losing jules and his friends onto elena.

opening his arms, he welcomed elena in for the tight hug that was meant to be reserved for jules.

2015 - nice, france

the new year had arrived and finally, jules and the bianchi's were back in france, no longer in the hospital in suzuka, japan, jules had been successfuly repatriated back to his hometown of nice in france. however, upon arriving back home to france, the french hospital decided to place jules into an induced coma to help with the healing process of his injuries. and, the family trusted that having their son and brother in that induced coma would help him and eventually, he'd wake up.

unlike when they were in japan, charles and elena would regularly go and visit jules together. they'd never go on their own, that not changing from when they were in japan however. so, anytime the other person found it too emotionally difficult one day to visit jules, neither of them would be visiting jules that day.

today was one of the day's that they were visiting jules. the hospital hadn't been that busy, only the regular nurses and doctor's of jules coming in every other hour or two to check in and make sure his vitals were how they were supposed to be. so for the most part, the trio sat in an ambient silence that was quite enjoyable. the silence only being broken when either elena or charles really felt the need to let jules' subconcious know whatever it was they were thinking about was important or not. and currently, that's what was happening right now. the topic being about other people's opinion's of charles and elena's relationship and why they were still refusing to admit that they were in love. elena was getting irritated because she thought it was a selfish thing to comment on considering the grief that they were currently going through with jules still in a coma in the hospital.

"...it's so selfish jules! the fact they feel like they have the audacity to comment on me and charles' relationship when you're here, laying in this bed in a coma not able to stop them spewing pure lies!" elena's voice came out in a high-pitched shrill as did jules it seemed

the high-pitched frequency of elena's voice seemed to piss jules off, causing all of his machines that he was hooked up to to beep like a madman. a stampede of nurses and doctors, some of them not even part of jules' medical team running in. charles and elena getting pushed out of the room, the door closing as the stampede tried to find the cause of the beeps and chaos so they could stop it. it was horrifying for the both of them because it happened so quickly. one moment, elena was calm as she told the story before she wasn't and then, bam, jules' machines went ballistic.

the worst part was, it was just elena and charles visiting jules that particular day so they also had the burden to tell the rest of the blended family of bianchi's and leclerc's what had happened. thankfully though, when they did tell them, no one was mad at elena for 'making' jules' machines go haywire. in fact, they were also mad when it was mentioned what elena was talking about before the incident. all of them agreeing that the people commenting on her and charles' relationship was just beyond inappropriate considering what they were going through with jules.

🥀

the best friends had settled themselves down onto what the bianchi and leclerc's called the love couch. it was a weird looking couch that, like the title suggests, looks a little like an inverted love-heart. it wouldn't be the first time that the leclerc and bianchi had sat in the love couch together before but it had been the first time in ages. the last time they had sat in it was when they were arthur's age and jules was teasing his sister and godson about how 'touchy feely' they were being with one another considering they were 'just best friends'.

it was clear that sitting back in the love couch sent the both of them through a weird sense of deja vu of that time three years ago. however, they didn't mention it even though they were totally sure that the other one was thinking of the same feeling. that was until sweet little arthur mentioned it.

"...cela me donne un vrai déjà-vu. vous ne vous êtes pas assis sur ce canapé depuis des années," arthur spoke in french as the two older teenagers smiled over at the younger one this is giving me real deja vu. you guys haven't sat on that couch in years

"nous connaissons thuthur. je ne pense pas que nous l'ayons fait exprès," charles speaks up as elena just watches on calmly, a small smile on her face we know thuthur. i don't think we did it on purpose

switching back to english, authur spoke up again, "so wait, what actually happened at the hospital?" he wondered since he wasn't at the hospital when it had happened as charles and elena scoffed softly

"i got a little bit heated, thuthur. i got mad over the topic of people commenting on me and charles' relationship whilst jules is suffering, laying in a hospital fighting for his life. my voice started to raise and it seems jules did not like that one bit so, all of his machines started beeping since my voice had reached quite a high pitch and then we were told we had to leave..." elena explained as charles wrapped his arms around her as arthur nodded his head, a solemn look in his eyes

it was clear to the two seventeen-year-olds that arthur had a thought in his head that he was battling against whether he should or shouldn't say it out loud.

"qu'est-ce qui ne va pas thuthur? on dirait que tu veux dire quelque chose," charles questioned in french as arthur once again fought himself on what he wanted to say before he decided to just say it what's wrong thuthur? you look like you wanna say something

"tu penses que jules va se réveiller? genre, il va se réveiller et tout ira bien à nouveau?" arthur questioned as charles and elena both froze for a moment as they thought about the fourteen-year-old's question do you think jules is going to wake up? like, he's going to wake up and he'll be okay again?

"oh, thuthur, je suis sûr que jules ira très bien! il ne devrait y avoir aucun doute dans ta douce petite tête que jules ne se réveillera pas!" elena spoke up this time as she leant forward from charles' grip as she ruffled arthur's hair as he nodded his head, the fear subsiding oh, thuthur, i'm sure jules will be just fine! there shouldn't be any doubt in your sweet little head that jules won't wake up!

little did those three know that elena's statement would be heartbreakingly wrong and that they should have had all the doubts in the world about jules waking up.

17th july 2015 - nice, france

the one day that charles, arthur and elena weren't at jules' bedside was the day elena recieved the one call those four never wanted to receive. jules didn't make it out of the coma nor would he ever. his beautiful eyes would never open and he'd never wake up again. he would never ever be able to get into a formula one car again. he would never get the chance to see the relationship between his baby sister and godson break down and then bloom into what would soon become a beautiful relationship in the years to come.

as soon as elena got off the phone with her parents and lorenzo telling her that jules hadn't made it, she dropped her phone almost immediately. and of course, it worried charles and arthur. the three of them hadn't really expected any new news about jules since the last they had seen and heard, they had been told he was doing fine and had a slither of hope that he'd wake up or at least show more improvement. so, this was concerning for both charles and arthur.

"ça va, elena? qui t'appelait?" charles questioned, looking away from the tv that had been playing a movie before pausing it as arthur's attention is also on elena you okay, elena? who was calling you?

at first, elena was too stunned to speak. shaking her head, it felt as though she had forgotten all three languages that she knew, french, english and italian. however, she quickly snapped out of it as she remembered how to speak french again.

"c'était maman. elle appelait à propos de jules…" elena trailed off as immediately, charles and arthur started to panic it was mum. she was calling about jules

"est-ce qu'il va bien? genre, et jules?" charles questioned with worry as elena didn't even need to say anything at this point and the two leclerc's knew exactly what elena was alluding to is he okay? like, what about jules?

even though they had a feeling of what elena was referring to, they didn't want to believe it. to the point that arthur spoke up and started to panic.

"non. non. que…tu mens elena! jules va bien! il va se réveiller, n'est-ce pas?" arthur panicked as elena moved over to the young teenager and comforted him as it all started to set in for the three of them no. no. that...you're lying elena! jules is fine! he'll wake up, won't he?

"je suis désolé thuthur…je ne mens pas, jules ne va pas bien. il…il ne va pas réveiller bubba," elena whispered as she hugged the fourteen-year-old tighter as he started to cry i'm sorry thuthur...i'm not lying, jules isn't okay. he...he isn't going to wake up bubba

hearing her best friend break down into tears hearing her words broke elena's heart. she honestly had no idea what to expect from arthur since he was usually so positive and naive in a way that jules would get better and recover. and now, all that positivity and hope was just destroyed and it didn't give elena a nice feeling in her mouth. and then, whilst hugging arthur, she couldn't help but make eye contact with charles to make sure he was okay and how he was taking the news. and his reaction, whilst not as visceral or stereotypical as people would say, charles' reaction broke elena's heart just as much as arthur's did. charles was frozen in shock. he had no clue what to do or how to react at first. he was just staring at elena as though he was hoping that the longer he stared at her that it would mean the words she said would change. but they didn't. no matter how long charles stared at elena for, it wouldn't ever change the fact that jules was dead and he was no longer going to come back.

it was at this point that elena knew that as much as it saddened her, she could only comfort one leclerc at a time. and, now that she had comforted arthur as much as she could, it was now time for her to comfort charles. pulling out of the hug with arthur, she wiped away the last of his tears, kissed his forehead and moved him in the direction of him and lorenzo's bedroom since she knew that the older leclerc would be home soon and she could ask enzo to keep an eye on arthur. all the while she'd keep an eye on charles.

now that it was just the two of them left, elena and charles, it seemed as though there was no hesitation but for charles to just collapse into elena's waiting frame. the shock still present on his face as his breathing started to get quicker as though he was about to start hyperventilating.

"jules est mort, elena…je…je ne le reverrai plus jamais..." charles stammered out as his breathing picked up as elena hugged the distraught boy tighter jules is dead, elena...i...i'll never see him again

"je connais char et je suis vraiment désolé que cela soit arrivé parce que ce n'est pas juste du tout! si seulement je pouvais faire quelque chose pour le changer, mais je ne peux pas, aucun de nous ne le peut!" elena's voice fell into a whisper as it cracked a tiny bit as her heart broke at hearing charles finally start to break down now that his shock seemed to finally wear off i know char and i am so sorry that this has happened because it's not fair at all! if only i could do something to change it but i can't, none of us can!

it had ultimately been that sentence that broke charles and had him break down in tears. they had moved to the couch, elena openingher arms for charles to fall into as they layed themselves down and hugging one another. the cries were loud and ugly, there was absolutely nothing pretty or attractive about charles' tears and sobs. they were so loud that arthur could hear them from his and lorenzo's bedroom and it was so agonizing hearing them that it had set of arthur again, making him cry all over again after he had only just managed to calm himself down. only for his older brother's heartwrenching cries to make him cry all over again. thankfully, enzo had just stepped into the house as charles started to cry and immediately, the older brother knew that with elena taking care of charles in the lounge room, he knew that their younger brother would be in their shared bedroom and crying as well.

so, with elena consoling charles on the lounge room couch and lorenzo consoling arthur in their shared bedroom, the 17th of july would forever remain as one of the saddest days for the leclerc's and bianchi's. along with the whole entire motorsports world.

17th july 2016 - monte-carlo, monaco

for the one-year anniversary of the death of her brother, elena found herself in monaco. monte-carlo to be quite specific and she loved it. whilst it wasn't that far off from her hometown of nice, france, in monaco it didn't reek of memories of her older brother jules. elena was all alone in monaco however. the rest of her family still in france as they celebrated and mourned the one-year annviersary of jules as a family whereas they allowed elena to do whatever it was she wanted. knowing that there was no way she could stand being in nice or france in general for the one-year anniversary of jules' passing.

however, she had never expected to bump into charles leclerc. the last time they had properly seen each other, elena and charles, was at jules' funeral. and it wasn't because they were actively avoiding each other by any means. the loss of jules had actually brought the youngest bianchi and the middle leclerc closer than ever. however, it was because of charles getting further in motorsport that caused the two of them to see each other less often. they always spoke over the phone and through text messages and facetimes but it wasn't until the one-year anniversary that they had actually seen each other in person again.

it was charles that had noticed elena first and a small smile creeped on his face as he moved closer to his childhood best friend. today wasn't a day that charles originally felt like smiling about however, just seeing his godfather's younger sister in his hometown of monte-carlo, monaco was all he needed for that smile on his face to appear.

"...elena? est-ce vraiment toi?elena? is it really you?" charles called out as the brunette-haired girl turned around, her hair blowing in the wind as another smile grew across charles' face - it was elena

turning around, elena was confused and slightly freaked out that someone knew her name and was calling out for her. however, when she fully turned around and looked at the person that had called out her name, a smile overtook her face as well. it was charles and she couldn't believe it. it had been almost an entire year since she had seen him and now, on the one-year anniversary of her brother's passing, here he was, back in his hometown whilst she was there at the same time and they had just happened to bump into each other.

"charles! salut, ouais, c'est bien moi! que fais-tu à la maison?" elena jumped off the seat she was sitting on and rushed over to pull the now eighteen-year-old in for a hug as charles welcomed it charles! hi, yeah it really is me! what are you doing back home?

"j'étais censé courir mais j'ai vite réalisé à quel point c'était difficile pour moi de courir compte tenu de la date d'aujourd'hui…" charles trailed off as elena remembered and nodded her head, understanding why charles would find it difficult to even think about stepping into a race car on this date i was supposed to be racing but i, uh, quickly realised just how hard it was for me to race considering today's date

"ouais, je ne peux pas imaginer devoir même penser à être sur une piste de course aujourd'hui," elena's voice went down a step as charles nodded his head as he gulped yeah, i can't imagine having to even think about being on a racetrack today

silence quickly filled charles and elena as they sat next to each other. it was a comforting silence, there was never any awkwardness between the two eighteen-year-olds. even when they were kids, they were never awkward with one another. but now that they were eighteen and it had now been an entire year without jules, it felt as though the two of them were slowly drifting apart from one another. and it scared them because they had always been a tight knit group alongside enzo, arthur and jules. but now that jules was gone, it felt as though everything was falling apart and it was devastating. the bianchi's and leclerc's still spoke to each other but it felt as though the loss of jules made a hole in everyone's hearts that they just started to slowly drift away.

however, today it seemed as though jules was really bringing everyone together because someone's very familiar sounding accent caught charles' and elena's attention. it was arthur and lorenzo. and it was honestly quite the emotional moment when elena bianchi reunited with arthur and lorenzo leclerc. in the same way it was an emotional moment to be reunited again with charles after an entire year.

"elena? c'est bien toi! elena? it's really you!" arthur's voice rings out as he runs over to pull the older girl in for a hug, the now fifteen year old on the verge of tears

as soon as elena smiled and nodded her head, giving arthur the true confirmation he needed to let him know that it really was elena, he broke down into tears. hugging him tightly, elena smiled as she invited the older leclerc into the hug since she could tell that he was also on the verge of tears as well. the hug between the two leclerc's and the bianchi was a sweet hug that was clearly needed by all three of them - and charles of course. there was no way elena could exclude charles so she also extended a hand to charles when she started to notice that he was feeling the smallest bit left out.

"viens ici, char! come here, char!" elena giggled, opening up the hug once more to bring him into it as he smiles and does just that

now that the hug was semi complete since it was no longer the core five but now the core four, it was a lovely moment that was a sweet, emotional moment that truly reminded elena of why she had come to monaco that day for the one-year anniversary of jules' passing.

the rest of the day was elena spending some much needed catch-up time with the leclerc's, not just the three brothers but also with herve and pascale. the smiles on the faces of herve and pascale when the brothers walked in with elena with them were as bright as could be. they'd never been happier to see elena then they were that day. although the day was a difficult day and it was always going to be a difficult day, seeing elena walk into their house alongside their three boys made a world of a difference for herve and pascale. that was the day they truly had faith in the fact that jules' death didn't really cause the four friends to distance from one another but it had in fact brought them closer.

17th july 2017 - nice, france

it was the two year anniversary of jules' passing when elena found herself in her hometown, nice, france, spending the annviersary with her family. whilst she had absolutely adored being in monaco for the first anniversary and it had brought her so much closure and tightened her bond with the leclerc's, it was clear that elena needed her family this year. and the leclerc's had no worries about that. especially now that charles had made his way into formula two, they understood completely but continued to talk with each other over text conversations and one facetime call between charles and elena.

then, it started to get later in the day, two years of jules' passing almost over, elena sitting outside at a beach in nice. she needed an escape from her home and the beach was her favourite spot to decompress when she suddenly heard the roar of a car engine. and it was nearing midnight so it mortified her to think it was her parents or one of her other siblings trying to look for her. and as she started in her rush up off the sandy beach, she stood up only to see that it was charles. the very same charles that was in monaco not even an hour beforehand. well, that's what it had looked like to elena when they were on the facetime call but, apparently not. but, clearly it was possible since it was only 28mins give or take between the two places. but it still shocked the bianchi that for the second year in a row, that they were seeing each other on the anniversary of jules' passing.

"hé, étranger, qu'est-ce que tu fais ici si tard dans la nuit?" elena chuckled cheekily as charles giggled himself as he continued to walk further down the sand towards elena hey stranger, what are you doing here this late at night?

"oh, pas vraiment de raison. mais je pourrais aussi te poser la même question, que fais-tu ici si tard dans la nuit?" charles was cheeky back as elena giggled and shook her head as they finally were in arms reach for a hug as they embraced one another oh, no real reason really. but i could also ask you the same question, what are you doing here this late at night?

"honestly?" elena questioned in english as charles nodded his head as the two nineteen year olds pulled out of the hug and sat down back onto the sandy beach below them

"well, i can't stand maman's consistent breakdowns alongside papa, melanie and tom just being on hand and foot for maman when she's not the only one grieving over jules. i thought i really needed my family today for jules' two-year anniversary but honestly, i think i just needed my own space that's away from them. besides, why are you here when you should be spending time with your family? i heard that your papa's sick, how's he going?" elena shrugged but got serious at the mention of charles' father who had recently fallen ill which got charles slightly quiet and emotional as his jaw clenched

"wow...seems as though we both needed to get away from our overbearing families..." charles' voice went quiet as elena was in shock, the leclerc's were never ever overbearing so she was curious

"...what do you mean by overbearing?" elena questioned as charles sighed and shrugged his shoulders

"similar to you, i guess. maman's started to freak out so much that it's taken over lorenzo, arthur and myself to the point that no matter what we try to do, maman will always find an arguement about why we shouldn't be doing it and instead be focusing on our father. that was why i decided to run away and find you cause i just needed to be with someone else that wasn't my family and you were the first person i thought of..." charles admitted as elena smiled sadly as she held her hand out for him to grab and he did without hesitating

and it was as though a small spark zapped the second the two made contact with one another. it made the both of them jump as though they had both zapped each other but with small smiles and a sense of calm, they stayed holding hands. and holding hands made a sweet silence grow between the duo. the only other noise being the wind and the ocean in front of them as it comes and goes from the tide's edge.

that was until charles' spoke up again, "i'm so scared of the possibility of something bad happening to papa that i lied to him and told him that i had signed with ferarri..." charles sniffled softly as elena's body deflated whilst her grip on charles tightened

"...oh, char! i'm so sorry!" elena whispered as she pulled the now sobbing monegasque in her arms, their hands still tightly clasped as elena whispers sweet words in french

"they...they think it'll happen soon. he's not doing well at all, elena and i'm terrified! i can't lose papa so soon after losing jules, i just can't!" charles whimpered, his tears hitting elena's bare shoulder ever so softly

"i wish there was more i could do or say to help, char but i'm at a loss for words! what do you want me to do to help you?" elena asked as even though she had no idea how to help her best friend, she still wanted to

"just hold me, elena, please?" charles whispered as elena nodded her head and tightened her grip on charles as he buried his head into her shoulder as they sunk further down into the sand below them

just like last year on the one-year anniversary, on the two-year anniversary, elena spent the evening of jules' passing with the leclerc's. however this time, it was so much more somber knowing that herve wouldn't have that long left himself. spending the night curled up against the three brothers as they all cried and shared with elena their fears of losing their papa in the same way they shared their fears of losing jules.

17th july 2018 - monte-carlo, monaco

today was the three year anniversary of jules' passing and it was also about to be the first-year since the leclerc's had said their final goodbyes to their father, herve. it was awful, elena remembered that day clearer than she remembered the day she was told about jules' death. and maybe that was because she was actually at herve's bedside with the leclerc's to help pascale console them on the day he died whereas with her brother, she was at the house with the brothers when she got the phone call about jules' death. but, none the less, just like the two years before this one, elena was in monaco this time, deciding that every anniversary of jules' from now on she'd spend in monaco. ever since last year's terrible two year anniversary in france, elena decided she'd spend it in monaco with the leclerc's or until she could afford to live in monaco. even then, she'd still spend all the time she could in monaco with the leclerc's anyway. so she could then also be there for them during the anniversaries for herve now that it was only a few days between jules' anniversary and herve's. herve passing away on the 20th of july last year.

so because of that, on top of missing and thinking about her brother, elena was thinking about herve leclerc and the heartbreak that brought to her best friend's family. however, it completely shocked her to find out that days later, charles won the f2 feature race in baku and tributed his win to his father. unfortunately, elena wasn't able to go to that race to support charles in baku but it was obvious that when he returned home by who he decided to visit first which was elena that charles was also thinking about wanting her to know about this win. and it had been since that day that charles and elena hadn't seen each other since charles was getting further in formula two and on the verge of making it on the grid for formula one, he was so busy with all the races and the fun and exciting things that came with formula two and verging on formula one that the two nineteen year olds were no longer able to see one another or speak to each other over the phone as often as they liked to. but they didn't let that ruin their friendship and the clear soulmate bond that they had with one another.

however, as though it was the work of jules and herve, elena turned around from the beach of monte-carlo to see charles standing right behind her. this had happened every year on jules' anniversary and now it started to feel like it was a sign not just from jules but now herve with a message for the two young adults.

smiling, she didn't hesitate to run over and pull charles in for a hug, one which he didn't fight against either as he also smiled into the hug.

"ce doit être un signe de jules et papa à ce stade. c'est la troisième année que cela arrive!" charles joked as the two pulled out of the hug as elena giggled and nodded her head this must be a sign from jules and papa at this point. this is the third year that this has happened

"ça doit être le cas, clairement ! parce que depuis que vous avez débuté en formule two, c'est vraiment le seul moment où nous pouvons nous voir et pas seulement nous parler au téléphone," elena chuckled with a nose crinkle as they started to walk further down the beach a little more as charles giggled too it must be, clearly! because ever since you've started in formula two, this is really the only time we actually get to see each other and not just talk over the phone

"si c'est un signe de jules et papa, qu'est-ce que tu crois qu'ils essaient de nous dire?" charles questions as they then sit themselves down on the sand right in front of where the tide was coming in and out if it is a sign from jules and papa, what do you think it is they are trying to tell us?

elena giggled as she tilted her head to charles' shoulder where he let her rest her head, "peut-être qu'ils nous demandant d'arrêter de tourner autour du pot et d'accepter que nous sommes peut-être plus que de simples meilleurs amis?" she giggled as she then turned to look at charles, making strong eye contact as he froze for a moment maybe they are asking us to stop beating around the bush and accept that maybe we're more than just best friends?

charles wasn't silent in shock for too long before he smiled and brought his focus back to elena, "cela aurait beaucoup de sens puisque la seule fois où nous nous voyons maintenant, c'est à l'occasion de l'anniversaire de la mort de jules..." charles trailed off as elena nodded her head and agreed because it was true it would make a lot of sense since the only time we just happen to see each other now is on the anniversary of jules' death

even though they never imagined it nor wanted it happen in that way and sure as hell did jules never want his death to be the reason for them ever so slowly and slightly drifting away from each other. it was clear that on this one day every year since, jules was bringing them together to the same spot, whether elena was in france or monaco, they always managed to find each other. and now it seemed as though this was also herve's doing since jules wasn't the only one rooting for charles and elena to fall in love. and now that they three, nearly two, days away from the one-year anniversary of herve, it seemed as though herve was also doing everything he could to bring the two closer to each other yet again.

the rest of the evening, once again, elena would find her way back to the leclerc's and spend that evening and that week with them. supporting them in the same way with herve as they supported her with jules.

and maybe, just maybe, a little something more happened between charles and elena. but just maybe though.

17th july 2019 - monte-carlo, monaco

it was the four-year anniversary of jules' death that things between elena and charles really started to change. elena had now made a permanant move to monte-carlo since she decided that she wanted to study in monaco and her parents were happy to see their daughter flourish in monaco, knowing that france was never going to do that for her. and it was clear those two, elena and charles, had started to become more than just friends but the two of them, when asked, still called their relationship a friendship. now that charles was coming off the cusp of his rookie season with formula one, just like the other years, his time spent with elena was almost fickle until this very date, the 17th of july, when they always seemed to magically run into one another. it was now a sweet inside joke within the bianchi and leclerc families that on this very day every year, there was some force or pull in the universe that had charles and elena find each other.

and once again, it was on a beach, not the same beach as last year but a beach nonetheless that charles and elena found one another. except, this time it was elena that had found charles, unlike the previous years when it had been charles. the reason was because elena was on her daily walk after her uni classes since her uni was right near this specific beach when she thought she heard what sounded like someone crying. and hearing someone crying always put elena on high alert because she never wanted to hear someone cry and not be able to console them. so that was what she did. she had simply followed the sounds of the crying and found her way to where the tide was meeting the sand and there the silhouette was.

but it wasn't just anyone's silhouette, it was charles' silhouette. and little cracks started to form around elena's heart as the closer she got the louder charles' cries were getting. running down the sand bank to the ocean's tide seemed like the only thing elena was focused on as she got closer and closer to charles before she collapsed to her knees as soon as she could see that charles could recognise it was her and not a stranger. as soon as she saw that charles knew it was her, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her as that gave charles the clues he needed to know that he could cry as loud as he wanted now.

"je suis vraiment désolé, char! tu ne méritais pas ça!" elena had no idea why those were the first words that came out of her mouth but they were as charles started to calm himself down i am so sorry, char! you did not deserve that!

"pourquoi tu t'excuses elena? why are you apologising elena?" charles whispered, his voice cracking from his tears as elena removed one arm from her hold of charles to his cheek to wipe away the tears

"parce que je suis vraiment désolé que vous ayez dû perdre deux belles personnes dans votre vie à un si jeune âge, à une époque où vous essayiez si fort d'entrer en formule one!" elena whispered, her hand that wiped away the tears now resting softly on his cheek, her other arm wrapped around charles as they sat knee-to-knee, the tide coming and going as it pleased because i am so sorry that you had to lose two beautiful people in your life at such a young age at a time when you were trying so hard to get into formula one

charles really couldn't understand why elena was apologising for something she truly had no control over. sure, this day as well as three days from this one, the twentieth, would always be a day of sadness and grief, that wasn't the main reason why charles was so upset and crying on the beach. honestly, the reason why he was crying was a hell of a lot more embarrassing reason than the four year anniversary of jules and the upcoming two year anniversary of his father. he was crying because he had finally read the note that jules had wrote back in 2014 before the japanese grand prix that he had given to arthur for safe keeping. it was the letter that he had written about wanting to see the day that his sister and godson admitted to one another that they really did love each other more than just as friends.

"tu n'as vraiment pas besoin de t'excuser elena. la raison pour laquelle je pleure n'est pas de ta faute ni à cause de papa ou même de jules…" charles trailed off since whilst the reason why he was crying had to do with jules, it wasn't in the way elena thought it was you really don't need to apologise elena. the reason why i'm crying isn't your fault nor is it because of dad or even jules

"alors pourquoi tu pleures, char? then why are you crying, char?" elena questioned softly as she held his hand tightly as the waves crashing around them was their background music as charles smiled tearfully

"parce que je t'aime tellement elena! because i love you, so much elena!" charles whispered, his voice breaking slightly as elena softened as a sweet smile overtook her face

"je t'aime aussi, char et je l'ai toujours aimé! i love you too, char and i always have!" elena whispered back with a 'duh' tone in her voice as charles sniffled, wiping away a tear from his cheek as he shook his head, causing elena confusion

"je ne veux pas dire ça comme ça, elena ! je t'aime plus qu'un simple meilleur ami...i don't mean it like that, elena! i love you more than just a best friend..." charles admits for the first time and it was like a weight off his shoulders as elena went into shock and froze, only her eyes blinking

the silence went on for another minute, the two twenty-one year olds staring at one another in pure silence. again, it wasn't an awkward silence but it was a silence that let elena fully comprehend what charles had just admitted to her.

"...c'est pourquoi je pleurais parce que j'avais trouvé la lettre qui était le plan que jules avait écrit il y a des années en 2014 à propos de notre entrée en relation parce qu'il avait toujours voulu que nous arrêtions d'être des bébés et que nous nous disions la vérité mais il ne l'a jamais été pouvoir le voir…" charles broke the silence but with a whisper as elena didn't break her eye contact, fully comprehending what charles had just revealed since she had also felt the same but had no clue how to bring it up either that's why i was crying because i had found the letter that was the plan that jules had written years ago in 2014 about us getting into a relationship because he had always wanted us to just stop being babies and tell each other the truth but he was never able to see it

"le plan que jules avait donné à thuthur? the plan that jules had given to thuthur?" elena questioned with a small smile as charles smiled too with a headnod

"ouais, la lettre que thuthur cachait dans sa chambre depuis 2014. yeah, the letter that thuthur had been hiding in his room since 2014," charles chuckled softly as elena smiled, nodding her head knowing it was that cheeky bugger that had been keeping her brother's letter safe

"j'avais le sentiment que c'était thuthur qui le gardait en sécurité! i had a feeling that thuthur was the one keeping it safe," elena giggled softly as charles looked shocked - did elena know about the letter?

"tu savais? you knew?" charles questioned as elena giggled as she shook her head, letting charles know that she was just as shocked as he was to find out there actually was a letter even though she was suspicious that jules had actually written one

"oh mon dieu, non! je n'en avais vraiment aucune idée, je veux dire, j'avais des soupçons, mais je n'ai jamais pensé que jules irait de l'avant et aurait un plan écrit pour essayer de nous rapprocher," she chuckled as charles did too as he nodded his head, giggling a little too as they continued to hear and feel the waves crash right at their feet, the sun fully set at this point oh my gosh, no! i truly had no idea, i mean, i had a suspicion but never did i think jules would actually go ahead and have a plan written about trying to match make us together

"eh bien, pensez-vous que ce qu'il a écrit dans cette lettre…dans ce plan pourrait se réaliser?" charles questioned with hopefulness as elena giggled sweetly well, do you think what he wrote in that letter...in that plan could come true?

"je le fais, char. je pense vraiment que Jules écrivait dans le futur parce qu'il était parfaitement au courant de tout ce qu'il écrivait dans cette lettre, comme s'il savait exactement ce qui allait se passer... même sa mort," elena admitted as charles couldn't even hide the smile on his face that was being illuminated by the two young adults iphone flashlights i do, char. i really do think jules was writing into the future because he was bang on with everything he wrote in that letter as though he knew exactly what was going to happen, even his death

"je t'aime, elena. plus que je n'ai jamais aimé quelqu'un dans ma vie…" charles whispered as he got closer to elena's face as she smiled, moving her face closer to charles' face i love you, elena. more than i've ever loved anyone before in my life

"...je t'aime aussi char, plus que quiconque dans ma vie," elena whispered as they continued to move closer before they were so close that they could feel each other's breaths on each other's cheeks i love you too char, more than anyone else in my life

"embrasse-moi elena, s'il te plaît? kiss me, elena, please?" charles whispered in a plead as elena nodded her head as she moved forward to kiss him

"je pensais que tu ne demanderais jamais, char! i thought you'd never ask, char!" elena whispered as she hiked herself up on her knees before her hands found their way to charles' cheeks

after finding charles' cheeks with the limited lighting they had from their iphone flashlights, elena's eyes and mouth found charles' eyes and mouth and then all of a sudden, in the most gentle of ways, elena initiated what was their first official kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.

we're saying first official kiss because remember the night last year on the three-year anniversary of jules' passing? the night that elena went back to the leclerc's and there was an allusion that maybe, just maybe, something more had happened between the two? that was the 'something more'. the two had shared a very emotional kiss of desperation between the two, mostly on charles' side since it was days before the loss of his father and he wasn't coping well especially after he had made elena aware that he had lied to his father about getting not just a formula one contract but the contract signing him to ferrari. and, the only thing that elena could think to do in her elevated emotional state of mind since she had also gotten emotional herself that night as well about jules' death and the probability of herve's looming death was that the smartest thing in her mind was to ask charles to kiss her. at first he wasn't sure about it but when the both of them started to cry about the thought of herve never being alive to see his baby boy and the little girl he always saw as his daughter fall in love with each other and kiss each other, they decided they'd kiss and lie to herve telling him that they were dating and had been for a month. and it was after that evening when the two teenagers fell asleep next to each other, holding one another with tear-stricken faces that arthur, lorenzo and pascale knew that they had just lied to herve to make him happy for one last time.

and that 'first' kiss they had had wasn't the reason why they stopped seeing each other except for messages and facetime calls. it was genuinely because of charles' f2 career and that he was in the works of making it to the formula one grid and that elena was starting to think about leaving nice, france once and for all. but now that they were both permanantely situated in monaco and they were older and wiser, they took this year's four year anniversary of jules' death as their sign to finally tell each other the truth and that they were in love with each other. they just never imagined it would have started because elena had found charles crying on the beach because it was him that had found jules' letter that had the written plan out of playing cupid and getting the two dating.

and now, they were having their first real kiss as a couple and it was a wonderful kiss. it truly felt magical and as though the stars were finally aligning and as though the work of jules as well as herve had finally done it's job. jules had finally played cupid and was able to matchmake his baby sister and godson to start their long-awaited relationship after years of waiting. even though jules couldn't see it happen in real life, he still sure as hell made it happen with his soul that was seemingly always around on this specific day every year whilst his body laid at rest.

after they finished kissing, like the last couple anniversaries, charles and elena got themselves standing and walked back to elena's car. elena figuring out that charles had ran from wherever it was he had been all the way to the beach so they hopped back into elena's car and drove back to the family home. even though both charles and elena had apartments of their own, the leclerc family home in monaco was the best comfort spot for the two and it was where they had gone back to after every anniversary of jules that they had seen each other.

let's just say it brought a huge smile to the faces of pascale, lorenzo and arthur when they saw the couple walk into the house holding hands and giving each other shy looks.

17th july 2020 - monza, milan, italy

on the five year anniversary of her older brother's death, elena bianchi wasn't in monaco nor was she in france. she was in monza for the italian grand prix. wearing red, obviously, to support her boyfriend charles who was now driving for ferrari alongside sebastian vettel. it was the first grand prix of the 2020 season that she had been able to watch live due to the coronavirus and since so many races had been and were no doubt going to be cancelled due to the ongoing pandemic. and it had also been the first f1 race that she had actually seen in person since the 2014 japanese grand prix when jules had his accident. however, in monza, there was no way that elena was taking it for granted that she was at a race during a global pandemic but especially on the one day that she wishes no one could race on again. just like f1 lovingly retired her brother's racing number, 17, she wished they could retire the 17th of july as a day where they don't schedule a race on. however, she knew that was impossible since it wasn't always up to the fia as to when the grand prixs would be and what dates during the competition season they'd run on.

so, sitting in the ferrari hospitality, elena watched with equal nervousness and excitement. that was until it turned into sadness when charles had to retire out of the race. it broke her heart to see the love of her life get a DNF but at the same time, she was so grateful that he didn't hurt himself or get into a bad accident that caused him that DNF. by the time charles no longer felt any anger about retiring from the race, he went straight over to the hospitality to find elena. and she was right there waiting for him, with her arms wide open for him to fall into knowing just how much he really wanted that win considering what day the italian grand prix just happened to fall on this year as well as it being during a bloody pandemic.

"i'm sorry bebe, you didn't deserve that!" elena whispered in english, both french and italian escaping her as charles smiled softly and shook his head

"it's fine, ma belle. maybe it was a sign from jules and papa to keep me safe!" charles huffed loudly as he adored being held by his girlfriend, her legs crossing over the lower of his back, her arms rubbing his upper back

"yeah, maybe it was but, at least we're gonna see a maiden win this race i think..." elena perked up as she watched the race as it continued on the screens in front of her, causing charles to spin around and bending down to sit on elena's lap

"...oh my gosh...pierre's gonna win his first ever f1 grand prix!" elena whispered, her smile widening as her free hand covered her mouth whilst charles could only bite his lip to stop his smile from looking crazy with a shaking head

pierre and charles grew up together, doing karting together alongside a couple other of the current grid drivers and carried their sweet close knit friendship from childhood over to their adulthood. pierre had gone through a lot of loss similar to charles and elena with the deaths of jules as well as another good friend, anthoine hubert who was an f2 driver that died during the f2 feature race at spa-francorchamps during the f2 round in 2019. it was an emotional moment to see their best friend win his first ever race only for him to then dedicate that first win to anthoine. it was an emotional moment for everyone, not just for pierre, but for those who knew and loved anthoine.

the boyfriend and girlfriend had watched their best friend on the podium for his first ever win and to say it was an emotional affair was an understatement. seeing pierre get emotional and cry on that podium was heartwrenching. but it also reminded them that on this day, during this race, no one got hurt and no one lost their life in the same way anthoine had done last year at spa and jules had done on this day five years before in suzuka.

🥀

it was during the celebration party at one of milan's finest clubs that a lifechanging moment would happen just before the 17th of july 2020 switched to the 18th of july 2020. just before the clock could strike midnight, charles made his way up to the microphone where the dj paused the music he was playing and allowed the f1 driver to say his speech. no one really knew what was going on, especially elena, however it was clear when she looked at the other drivers that they had an idea of what was about to happen and no one seemed more excited than the race winner of the italian grand prix himself, mr pierre gasly. not even caring that the attention was being drawn away from him, he was just happy that a day that is filled with so much grief for his best friends was about to turn into a beautiful memory for the rest of their lives.

"...i am fully aware that this celebration party is for mr race winner of the italian grand prix, pierre gasly but, if i could please just steal the attention of everyone for one moment, that would be amazing, thank you..." charles started as elena's eyes widened in shock to see that her semi-sober boyfriend had taken the dj's microphone

just as she was to step forward to stop him, kika, pierre's girlfriend holds her arm out, stopping the girl from attempting to stop whatever it was that charles was about to do.

"...don't elena, just let him say what he has to say. it's clearly something important..." kika whispered, her arms wrapped around the back of elena as she nodded her head and relaxed

neither girl realising just how important kika's statement would be and what charles was about to do. the model hadn't realised that she had just foreshadowed charles' announcement

"...this day, the 17th of july is usually a day that is sad and full of grief for me and the bianchi family, this whole week is actually when i remember my papa as well. however, i no longer want this to be a day of sadness and grief. i want this to be a day of hope, joy and excitement in the same way the two families grew up in a happy, safe, hopeful home. because i had the pleasure to grow up with the bianchi's, it meant i was able to form a special bond with elena. the youngest of the bianchi family and i think i knew from the moment i met her and the moment i knew what the word love meant that i was crazy about her..." charles took in a deep breath as elena's breath caught in her throat as it suddenly dawned on her what charles was doing

"...elena alexandra bianchi, you are the love of my life, no one is denying that. you've been the love of my life for so long that it pains me to think there was a time in which after we went through all of these losses that you doubted that i loved you. and that's my fault for not trying harder to see you more than just on this same day every year since. and i know that's what i plan to do for the rest of my life, to love you so much that it takes away all the doubt and hurt i've knowingly and unknowingly put you through. whilst i've already asked for permission from your parents, there was always one other person that i dreamt of asking permission from to do this and it breaks my heart that i couldn't ask jules because i know just how much he adored being your older brother and watching the way the relationship between his baby sister and his godson grew over the years. whilst he may have been the start of taking charge of the ship that was trying to get the both of us to admit that we were in love with each other *tearful giggles* it truly was arthur that finished steering that ship. but, there is no doubt in the world to me that jules was the entire reason why i fell in love with you. and he is also the reason why i want to make you my wife *choked gasp*. elena alexandra bianchi, will you marry me and become elena alexandra leclerc for the rest of your living days?" charles was basically sobbing by the end of his speech as he rested on his knee, the ring a beautiful sapphire as elena nodded her head immediately

collapsing to her own knees, grasping charles' face to wipe away his tears, she didn't hesitate in kissing him and accepting his marriage proposal.

"oh, charlie! why wouldn't i marry you? i love you so much!" elena managed to choke out as tears started to well in her eyes as well

"i love you too, elena!" charles choked out in response as they shared a very sweet moment, their foreheads touching as they revelled in the silence that surrounded them

of course, after the engagement, elena and charles threw a party in congratulations about the new engagement and of course, many many photos were taken of the night. however, they first time they would see the light of day would be the next year when they were knee-deep in their wedding month. the photos of their engagement party posted a week before their big day. which, of course, they made sure was on the 17th of july 2021. of course, they were a little worried that because all of their relationship anniversaries were on the 17th of july that they were trying to take away the rememberance and memory of jules. however, christine and phillipe adored the idea that their daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law could make a sad and day full of grief into a day of happiness and love. especially when they had the joy and excitement of wedding planning now beginning, there was only room for joy and hope for the 17th of july to be filled with more happier memories even though jules would never be able to be apart of it or witness any of it.

fin (for now)

this was so much fun to write but it took forever! however, because i reached the block limit apparently, there is a part two so sorry that it just abruptly stopped but i had to! but part two shouldn't be as long nor take as long as this first part has!

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[soaked-doors]

baby i fall in love again come every summertime

[deepspacenova]

STARTING CALEB'S TRAILER WITH A BACK VIEW AND HIM MOANING WAS SUCH A POWER MOVE

[urfriendlywriter]

specific tropes in romance that always heal something in me that it never broke

like, forehead kisses, soft love confessions, peppering kisses all over the lover's face. promises that are kept, hands those are held with a gentle love, and hugs that engulf the heart too.

or when they rest their head on your chest, or lean on you for support.

"your tears kill me," kinda thing. or when a sunshine character finally cries and bawls their entire life's hurt out into their comfort grumpy character (plus point, if the grump feels guilty thinking if they had done something to trigger this emotional outburst)

communication. no matter hard the topic is, how big your differences are.

listening to the other person yap

admiring their facial features and seeing not just the outer structure but the person that they really are.

them getting angry on ur behalf

cradling each other in hugs basically

feeling emotional walls break when you're with that one person particularly

gentle communication. yearning to do more for your lover (!!!!)

affectionate smiles and eyes crinkling with a smile that's directed specially at you.

finding their laugh contagious.

the feeling of being accepted, despite flaws and all

silent domestic acts like being in the kitchen together, dressing up together, them drying ur hair while u sit between their legs

occasionally stolen kisses

or one deep kiss that just lights your world and fulfills your soul and heart.

sleepily nuzzling into each other!!

reaching for each other despite being asleep, with mumbled endearments and whispers of need!!!

laughter coming easily by their side, like happiness is just another day to day thing (this can also be about self love. when u truly love urself and prioritize your own rights and cherish the fact that you're you. happiness becomes beautiful even in solitude)

their fingers buried deep in yo- OOPS.?! :)

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

[maiooo-0]

RAAAAAAH I LOVE THEM

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! ♡

katsuki loves you throughout the years.

a/n : BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx

fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33

"for you."

katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.

you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.

"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.

"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.

"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.

you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.

"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.

"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"

katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.

"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.

"mhm !"

"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.

wait till stupid deku hears about this.

valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.

besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.

katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.

it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.

you fucking liked it.

the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)

you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.

and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.

he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.

katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.

until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.

dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.

these were different. these were just for him.

his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.

"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.

and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.

and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.

he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.

the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.

and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.

and due to prior experiences and feelings he’s had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.

but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.

"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.

with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it just—not rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..

"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.

you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."

oh. fuck.

katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."

you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.

katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.

"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.

"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.

"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.

"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuck—so," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."

and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"

he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.

he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "but—fuck, i just—you've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.

"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.

"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.

"yeah, major pain..but even still i—when i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."

"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."

" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.

"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.

except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.

but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.

his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."

"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'

he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"

and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'

<33

[seilnakyle]

Absolute Soulmates!

[lilislegacy]

hazel: percy and annabeth just have the most beautiful relationship

piper: i know! they are SO in love

frank: and they are always so on the same page

leo: and their relationship is so mature

*meanwhile*

percy and annabeth outside the cabin fighting over who gets to talk to sally on the phone first:

[moonieee]

A fanart of one of my favourite fluff bingyuan fanfic: Green Shadows by Zarasu on ao3 🌼✨️

“What?” Shen Yuan asked, a little breathlessly.

The boy pointed his chubby finger at the book in Shen Yuan’s lap. “What are you doing?”

“Oh.” Shen Yuan looked down at the book. “I’m, hm…” He threw another look at the boy. Maybe the other boy would be interested in playing with him? “I’m an explorer!”

The other boy’s smile faded and he looked at Shen Yuan intensely. “I thought you were a human?”

In which a oneshot fanfic where Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe were childhood friends.

Notes: Holy shit i was so eepy when i post this and when i woke up, i realized from yall that i linked the wrong fics lol 🧍‍♀️ Anyway, i updated it thx u everyone who notify me abt it 💀 lmaooo

[enhaflixer]

all i know is we said "hello" (and your eyes looking like coming home)

family friend!Jungwon x f!reader

Synopsis: Years of just friends start to unravel when Jungwon dates the wrong girl, and you realize you might’ve lost him for good—until one fight changes everything.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: Angst to fluff, Jealousy & misunderstandings, Toxic ex-girlfriend, Emotional confrontation, Kissing

Masterlist

AN: THIS ONE GOES OUT TO MAAAA GIRLLLLLL @naurwayyyyy YOU GO BSF HOPE U LIKE IT

-

Yang Jungwon met you for the first time at a neighborhood playground when you were both six years old. The air buzzed with excitement as children ran across the wood chips, their laughter ringing through the summer evening. The smell of grilled food drifted from nearby picnic tables, where parents gathered to chat and keep a watchful eye on their little ones. You had just finished building a sandcastle, proudly shaping the turrets, when a shadow loomed over you.

Can I help?” Jungwon’s voice was quiet but curious. His neatly combed hair and serious expression made him look oddly formal for a playground, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made you nod.

Together, you molded the castle, carefully adding moats and bridges. He handed you a twig to use as a flag, and when you placed it at the highest turret, he clapped as if you had just accomplished something grand. That was all it took. From that moment on, you were inseparable for the rest of the evening. You chased each other across the monkey bars, competed to see who could swing the highest, and shared his snacks—because, as Jungwon had explained, “friends share snacks.”

When the time came to leave, your parents had to pry you both apart. Your mother chuckled, shaking her head. “Looks like they’ve found their new best friend.” His mother nodded, a knowing smile on her lips. “I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

And they were right.

Your friendship with Jungwon only deepened as the years passed. Your childhood was filled with shared birthdays, school projects, and whispered secrets under blanket forts. Summers were spent playing hide-and-seek until dusk, while winters meant snowball fights and cups of hot chocolate at each other’s houses. There was never a moment of hesitation between you two—Jungwon was your person, and you were his.

At a school talent show in third grade, you had nervously gripped the microphone, ready to perform a duet with Jungwon. You had practiced for weeks, but the crowd made your stomach churn with nerves. Jungwon had noticed immediately, nudging you gently before whispering, “We’ve got this.” When you finally sang, his voice carried yours, steady and sure. By the time the song ended, the entire auditorium had erupted in applause.

Then there were the family picnics, where both families gathered in the park with packed lunches and coolers full of drinks. Your parents, ever the shameless matchmakers, would tease, “Look at our little soulmates.” You and Jungwon would exchange exasperated looks before groaning, “We’re just friends!” But despite the protests, there was an undeniable closeness between you that neither of you could—or wanted to—explain.

Even on rainy days, when plans were canceled, the two of you found joy in the simplest things. Instead of sulking over ruined outings, you built elaborate pillow forts in your living room, draping blankets over chairs and stringing fairy lights inside. Those rainy afternoons were filled with whispered conversations and laughter, the outside world forgotten as long as you were together.

High school brought new experiences and social circles, but your bond with Jungwon remained unwavering. At your first school dance, you had both stood awkwardly near the refreshments table, watching your peers with amusement. “This is weird,” you had muttered.

Jungwon had chuckled. “Very weird.”

But eventually, he had held out a hand, grinning. “Come on. Just one dance.”

With a reluctant sigh, you had taken it, and for the rest of the night, you danced—badly, terribly even—but together.

As high school progressed, you faced more changes. Exams, sports, extracurriculars—all the things that came with growing up. But at the end of the day, you and Jungwon always found your way back to each other, whether it was through late-night calls about homework stress or spontaneous ice cream runs after rough days.

Until Soojin happened.

-

University was supposed to be an exciting new chapter, a place where you and Jungwon would navigate the unknown together. But then Soojin Kim entered the picture, and everything started to change.

You first noticed her at a university mixer, where her effortless charm and striking beauty immediately caught Jungwon’s attention. You had watched, a strange feeling settling in your stomach, as she laughed at his jokes, leaning in just a little too close. Jungwon, captivated, barely noticed when you excused yourself early that night.

The first time Jungwon introduced you to Soojin over coffee, you knew something was off. Her saccharine smile never quite reached her eyes, and though her words were laced with politeness, every compliment felt like a carefully disguised jab.

“You and Jungwon must have been such adorable kids together,” she had said, stirring her latte. “It’s cute how you still follow him around.”

Something in your chest twisted, but Jungwon, oblivious, had only beamed. “Yeah, we’ve been inseparable since we were kids.”

Soojin had tilted her head, smiling. “That’s adorable. But I mean, college is all about moving forward, right?”

It wasn’t long before Jungwon started canceling plans more often. “Sorry, Soojin wants to go to this concert tonight,” he’d text last minute. Or, “I’ll make it up to you, promise.” But promises didn’t stop the empty seats at your usual café meet-ups or the growing ache in your chest.

-

Your birthday had always been special—an unspoken tradition where Jungwon would take you to your favorite café, just the two of you. It was something you both looked forward to every year, a brief moment of certainty in a life full of change. But this year, something was different.

You sat alone at your usual table, the one by the window where the sunlight would always hit just right. A small slice of cake sat untouched before you, the candle flickering unsteadily. You checked the time again, your phone screen lighting up to show that nearly two hours had passed. The initial disappointment had settled into something heavier, something that ached deep in your chest.

You had hoped—hoped that despite everything, despite Soojin and the increasing distance between you and Jungwon, today would be different. That maybe, for just this one day, he would remember.

But the empty seat across from you told a different story.

When the bell above the door chimed, you glanced up, your heart foolishly lifting for a split second. And there he was—Jungwon, breathless, his hair slightly disheveled, his jacket hastily thrown on. He scanned the café, his eyes finding you instantly, but instead of relief, all you felt was the sharp sting of resentment.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, rushing toward you. He slid into the seat across from you, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. “I lost track of time.”

You stared at him, your expression unreadable. The scent of Soojin’s perfume still clung to his clothes, sickly sweet and unmistakable.

“You lost track of time,” you repeated, your voice eerily calm. “Or you just didn’t care enough to be here?”

Jungwon flinched slightly, his brows pulling together. “That’s not fair. You know I wouldn’t miss this on purpose.”

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “Jungwon, do you even realize how many times you’ve said that lately?”

His mouth opened, but no words came. He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time, he seemed to notice the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped as if carrying a weight you hadn’t meant to bear alone.

“I’ve been trying,” he finally said, voice softer now, like he was trying to mend something that had already cracked beyond repair. “I know I haven’t been around as much, but—”

“But you always have time for her,” you interrupted, your voice raw. “Jungwon, I’m not asking for every second of your day. I never have. But you used to be my best friend. You used to show up.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

Jungwon exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face. “I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.”

You swallowed hard, pushing down the lump forming in your throat. “But you did.”

And that was the worst part. He had hurt you, not because he wanted to, but because you had stopped being a priority without him even realizing it. And now, sitting across from him, you weren’t sure if there was a way to fix it.

You pushed your untouched cake toward him and stood. “Happy birthday to me,” you muttered, turning before he could see the tears threatening to spill.

As you walked out of the café, the cold air hit your face like a slap, grounding you. For years, Jungwon had been your safe place, your constant. But now? Now, you weren’t so sure.

And maybe—just maybe—it was time to stop waiting for him to show up.

-

The days following your birthday were eerily silent. The usual pings of Jungwon’s messages that once filled your phone were now just ghostly notifications that you left unread. He called—once, twice, ten times—but you never picked up. Every attempt he made to reach you was met with quiet rejection, your heart too raw to even consider the possibility of listening to whatever excuse he had prepared.

The absence of his presence was both a relief and a new kind of pain. You had spent so many years orbiting around each other that now, without him, you felt unsteady. But what hurt more was the realization that maybe this was inevitable. Maybe, despite everything, people did grow apart. Maybe you had just been fooling yourself into thinking you and Jungwon were different.

Minji, your closest friend at university, noticed immediately.

“You look like hell,” she said one afternoon, plopping down next to you on the grass outside the library.

You exhaled, leaning back against the cool stone wall. “Thanks.”

“I mean it. You’re walking around like a zombie,” she pressed, concern lacing her voice. “You haven’t spoken to Jungwon since your birthday?”

You shook your head. “No. And I don’t plan to.”

Minji studied you for a long moment before sighing. “You know, you’re allowed to be mad. You’re allowed to feel hurt. But you’re also allowed to talk to him.”

You knew she was right. But the thought of facing Jungwon, of pretending things could somehow go back to normal, made your stomach twist.

“Maybe I’m just tired of always being the one who cares more.”

Minji didn’t argue. She just squeezed your hand in quiet support.

-

Jungwon didn’t stop trying.

Every day, he sent a new message. I know you don’t want to talk, but I just need you to know I’m sorry. Or Please, let me explain. Some nights, you stared at your phone longer than you should have, your fingers hovering over his contact before locking your screen and setting it aside.

But the walls you had built around yourself started to crack when you saw him outside the lecture hall one afternoon, standing in the cold, waiting.

For you.

The moment your eyes met, he looked like he had something to say, something desperate, something urgent. But instead of walking over, you turned in the opposite direction.

You didn’t know what hurt more—the way his shoulders slumped in defeat or the way you kept walking, pretending it didn’t matter.

-

The following days were filled with a silence heavier than any argument. You ignored Jungwon’s texts, his missed calls, his weak attempts to act as if things could simply go back to normal. Minji had been right—maybe it was time to stop waiting for him to show up.

But he wasn’t the only one trying to get your attention.

Soojin cornered you in the university library one afternoon, a saccharine smile stretched across her lips. “You really thought he’d choose you over me?” she mused. “It’s sad, really.”

You didn’t respond, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much her words affected you.

“Jungwon will come around,” she continued, twirling a strand of her hair. “But by the time he does, it won’t matter. You’ll already be out of the picture. You’re just some pathetic wannabe who I have to end up stepping on to get what I want.”

Her words settled over you like a dark cloud, but what neither of you realized was that someone else had overheard the conversation.

Sunghoon, one of Jungwon’s closest friends, had seen everything.

And he wasn’t going to let Soojin win.

Jungwon hadn’t slept properly in days. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face—not the happy, familiar version he had grown up with, but the hurt expression you wore at the café, the disappointment in your eyes when you walked away from him. It haunted him, clawing at the edges of his thoughts, leaving a hollow ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away.

Sunghoon’s message had been the final push.

You’ve been blind for too long. It’s time to open your eyes.

So Jungwon had listened.

He met up with Sunghoon later that evening, sitting across from him in their usual spot on campus, but this time, the easy camaraderie they normally shared was missing. Sunghoon was serious, his expression set in something Jungwon rarely saw—disappointment.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Sunghoon asked, shaking his head. “How much she’s hurting?”

Jungwon swallowed hard, staring down at the table. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad,” he admitted. “I just… I thought we were fine.”

“Fine?” Sunghoon scoffed. “Jungwon, she’s been holding herself together while you’ve been running around with Soojin, acting like she doesn’t exist.”

His stomach twisted. He wanted to deny it, to say that it wasn’t true, but as Sunghoon’s words sank in, so did the reality of the situation. He had neglected you. He had made you feel like you were nothing more than a leftover part of his life when, in truth, you had always been the most important part.

Sunghoon leaned forward. “I saw Soojin today.”

Jungwon frowned. “What?”

“In the library,” Sunghoon said. “She was talking to Y/N, telling her she was just some pathetic little girl waiting around for you. That she never had a chance.”

Jungwon felt something inside him snap. “She said what?”

“She tried to make her feel small,” Sunghoon continued, watching Jungwon closely. “And you know what Y/N did? She didn’t let her win. She stood up for herself. She walked away.” He paused. “From Soojin. And from you.”

Jungwon felt like he had been punched in the gut. He thought back to every time you had tried to reach out, every moment where you had smiled through your hurt and pretended you were fine when you weren’t.

And he had let you suffer alone.

“Damn it,” Jungwon muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I need to talk to her.”

Sunghoon nodded. “Yeah, you do. But this time, don’t just show up with excuses. Show up with the truth.”

-

Jungwon barely remembered the walk to your apartment. His heart pounded in his chest, his stomach in knots as he rehearsed what he was going to say. He had no right to ask for forgiveness, but he had to try. He had to make you understand just how much you meant to him.

When you opened the door, your expression shifted from surprise to guardedness.

“Jungwon,” you said, your voice tired. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” he said quickly, before you could shut the door in his face. “Please. Just give me a few minutes.”

You hesitated before sighing and stepping aside. “Fine. Say what you need to say.”

Jungwon stepped inside, his gaze searching yours. “I messed up,” he began, his voice raw. “I hurt you, and I didn’t even realize how badly until it was too late.”

You crossed your arms, looking away. “Jungwon—”

“No, please,” he interrupted. “Let me finish.” He took a deep breath. “I let Soojin get in my head. I let her convince me that you’d always be there, that it didn’t matter if I pushed you aside. But it did. It mattered more than anything.”

Your lips parted slightly, your fingers tightening around your sleeves. “Jungwon…”

He stepped closer, his eyes shining with something desperate, something real. “You are the most important person in my life. You always have been. And I was an idiot for not seeing that sooner.”

You blinked, your breath hitching. “Then why did you choose her?”

Jungwon shook his head. “I didn’t choose her, I broke up with her. I was just too scared to admit who I really wanted. And by the time I realized it, I thought I had already lost you.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and uncertain. Then, finally, you exhaled, your shoulders dropping. “You hurt me, Jungwon.”

“I know,” he whispered. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I need you to know that I—” He hesitated, then looked you straight in the eyes. “I love you.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, voice steadier this time. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time, but I was too stupid to realize it.”

You stared at him, emotions flickering across your face—shock, disbelief, something else. “Jungwon…”

He swallowed. “Please. If there’s even a part of you that still—”

And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t hesitant. It was years of bottled-up emotions, of missed chances and unspoken words, colliding all at once. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if to make up for every moment he had let slip through his fingers.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mingling. “You’re an idiot,” you whispered.

Jungwon let out a soft, breathless laugh. “I know.”

You smiled, the tension in your shoulders finally easing. “But I love you too.”

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt right again.

The Honeymoon

The ocean waves lapped softly against the shore, the golden light of the setting sun casting everything in a warm, dreamlike glow. You and Jungwon walked barefoot along the beach, fingers intertwined, the sand cool beneath your feet. The rhythmic crash of the waves was the only sound between you for a moment, peaceful and steady—like the quiet certainty that after everything, you had finally found your way back to each other.

Jungwon gave your hand a gentle squeeze before stopping, turning to face you. “I still can’t believe we’re here.”

You smiled, feeling the salt-tinged breeze against your skin. “Me neither.”

His eyes softened, filled with a warmth that sent a familiar flutter through your chest. “After everything, I never thought I’d get to have this with you,” he admitted, brushing a stray hair from your face. “That you’d still choose me.”

You reached up, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You fought for me,” you whispered. “And you never stopped.”

He pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll never stop,” he promised. “Not now. Not ever.”

The kiss that followed was slow and deep, filled with every unspoken vow, every moment of longing that had led you to this very place. It was a kiss that tasted like forever.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you knew without a doubt—this was just the beginning.

[lilacgaby]

thinking of childhood friends to lovers with katsuki :(

you and him who's parents were close friends in high school and got pregnant at the same time.

the photos of you two as little babies, dressed up in matching outfits courtesy of his fashion designer parents.

having playdates and sleepovers every other weekend, the two of you clung to each other as you moved around his little playroom, katsuki pouting whenever you had to leave.

the first day of kindergarten together, holding hands as your parents fussed over the two of you, taking photos as the two of you walked in together, choosing spots next to each other always. you thinking he was so cool for his quirk, and him vying for your affection without even realizing it.

even in his middle school years, he'd get so upset when he even thought about the other guys who had a crush on you, he'd t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶ talk to them and let them know that you were taken already.

and when he entered U-A and finally confessed his feelings to you, so relieved to know you felt the same.

and getting married as proheroes, with your parents talking about how you two were destined to be together </3

[ariichive]

SURVIVE────°˖✧ ✧˖°────

being in an arranged marriage with mydeimos was bound to come with problems—sharp words exchanged like drawn daggers, every touch charged with defiance rather than desire. resentment simmered beneath forced smiles, yet in the moments between their clashes, something dangerous lurked—a spark neither of them dared name, waiting for the right moment to ignite.

the heart grows stronger with distance, or so they say. with mydeimos sent off to war, the kingdom of castrum kremnos grew colder, the weight of his absence pressing heavier than an unspoken longing. but loneliness was a quieter enemy compared to the kremnoans, who saw the new queen not as a ruler but as a weakness. whispers turned to plots, daggers drawn in the shadows. they would see her dead before they let her soften their king.

cw: violence, threats, friends to enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, childhood friends, death, parent issues on both ends, slight angst but happy ending, gore. fem reader wc: 12k took this fic so seriously that i typed it with proper capitalization and proofread it... i could have missed something though, my ideas were everywhere but i think i connected everything!

The man who stood before you was no longer full of that youthful spirit from a decade ago. The light in his eyes was diminished, something darker and more primal in them now. though, you're sure the same could be said about you.

Gone was the admiration in your eyes. Gone was the eagerness to learn more about your husband. In its place stood a wary acceptance, a silent understanding forged through years of unspoken grievances and battles fought both on the field and within these very walls. The love you once searched for had been buried beneath duty and bloodshed, leaving behind something colder—something you didn't have the courage to name.

This marriage was something neither of you wanted. While he was much more vocal with opposition, you couldn't deny the snarl of your lips when your parents would open their mouths and order you around like you were some object.

Obedience had been expected, demanded—but resentment had taken root long before you ever stood at the altar. Mydeimos fought his fate with fire and fury, yet you had been forced to smother yours beneath clenched teeth and measured silence. Still, the bitterness remained, coiling deep in your chest, waiting for the day it could finally be set free.

"Do you, [name] of Styxia, take Mydeimos as your husband? To be there after every battle, after every bloodshed? Will you be able to withstand the consequences and hate that comes from this marriage?"

The priest had a chilling smile on his face.

Of course, the people of Castrum Kremnos had a terrible hatred harbored for you. They believed in fighting for power, tearing through everything and everyone with brute strength.

Mydeimos' parents were wedded through battle and countless fights. That is precisely what Kremnoans expected out of their only son: marry a wife who rivals your strength and can hold the crown when the king is away. It was natural for them to protest the political marriage between you and Mydeimos.

Of course things were not always this way.

"Mydei, look at the butterfly I caught!" You gently lifted your finger to the young prince's face. "Playing with such insects?" Mydei crossed his arms and let out a 'hmph', "Young girls like you should be scared of those mindless- G-GET IT OFF!" The 8-year-old Mydeimos yelped in absolute terror as the yellow winged bug flew from your finger to the tip of his nose.

You let out a laugh that your parents would have ridiculed you for. You could hear your mother's nagging voice already, "[Name], no daughter of mine can let out such an unruly sound." And of course, your father agreeing.

"Mydei, c-calm down." you managed to get out through your weezing. "You'll hurt the poor thing!" Mydei snapped back to reality as your gentle hand took back the butterfly on his face, now red from panic or embarrassment, you couldn't quite tell. Either way, he refused to meet your gaze, lips pressed into a thin, sulky line.

"You’re insufferable," he muttered, dusting off his tunic as if the butterfly had tainted it. "One day, you won’t laugh at me like that."

You tilted your head, still smiling as you cradled the delicate creature in your hands. "Why? Because you’ll finally be brave?"

His glare deepened, and for a moment, you thought he might stomp away like he usually did when you got the better of him. But instead, he huffed and turned on his heel, nose still slightly scrunched.

You watched him go, amused, before gently releasing the butterfly into the breeze. It flitted away, its bright yellow wings catching the sunlight, oblivious to the way childhood had already begun to slip through your fingers.

"I do," you said quietly as you lifted your head up for the first time during the ceremony. The golden cup was passed into your hands by the priest, who looked content with himself.

The tension only rose as you raised the cup to your lips.

Tilting your head back, the smell of the wine hit your nose a second too late, as a drop of something sinister—a sharp, metallic taste— hit your tastebuds, leaving a cold chill down your spine.

It was a small amount, but it was clear there wasn't only wine in the cup.

Poison.

The thought flashed through your mind like a fire igniting your blood. They tried to poison you.

Your vision blurred as nausea twisted in your gut, but you managed to hold back the bile rising in your throat. The air felt heavy as you sank to your knees, desperately trying to stifle the coughs that threatened to betray you.

And then, for the first time that night, your eyes locked with Mydeimos.

He stood at the altar, glowering down at you with that familiar, icy indifference. There was no panic in his gaze, no concern—only disdain, as if this was just another inconvenience he had to endure.

"Do you, Mydeimos of Castrum Kremnos accept this lady as your wife?"

Your chest tightened, and you gripped the cup in your hand, now too weak to hold it. The priest, who had been watching this unfold with an unsettling calm, crouched down beside you and gently took the unspilled cup from your hands.

He didn’t look at you, only at Mydeimos as he straightened, holding the cup up.

The room held its breath and watched Mydeimos take the cup from the priest without breaking eye contact with you.

With swiftness and no hesitance, Mydeimos downed the drink as if it was water blessed by the Gods.

"I do."

The words were a simple declaration, but they hung in the air with a heaviness that suffocated. The indifference in his tone sent a chill through your already fragile state.

You had thought you were prepared for this marriage—prepared for him—but in that moment, you realized just how little you truly knew him.

And then, the full weight of it hit you.

You had spent years preparing for this day, telling yourself that you could endure it, that duty and honor would bind you together. But now, as you struggled to keep your breath steady, barely able to keep your eyes open, you realized the truth—you were not the prize here.

You were nothing more than an afterthought.

The room swirled around you, but you could still see Mydeimos standing there, his expression unreadable, a mask of stoic indifference.

It wasn’t just the poison that made your stomach turn now. It was the realization that this man—the man who you had been promised to, who now held the power to determine your fate—did not see you, not really.

"She is yours now," the priest continued, his voice echoing through the silence. But you heard nothing. Your world had narrowed to a single, suffocating thought: He does not care.

Your gaze flicked back to him, but Mydeimos wasn’t looking at you anymore. He turned his back on you, eyes already focused on the path ahead, as though the woman who lay gasping on the floor was of no more importance than the shadows that clung to the walls.

“She couldn’t even bear a little poison!"

“Castrum Kremnos is doomed!”

Their unconcealed voices cut through you, sharp and cruel, their judgment more venomous than the poison coursing through your body. You could almost hear their sneers, see the way their eyes looked down on you, the woman who had failed even in this most basic test.

A bitter taste filled your mouth—was it the remnants of the poison, or the humiliation? The sting of failure was so much worse than anything the poison had done to you. You were nothing but a pawn in this political game, a symbol of weakness.

It was then the tears finally hit.

Mydei, now 12, watched from the training grounds as you played in the nearby open field with a Kremnoan guard dog. The usually stoic and intimidating dog was now reduced to a cheerful puppy by an 11-year-old girl, showing off his belly to you as if it was the most prized thing in the world.

And maybe to you, at that moment, it was. Mydei would agree too, as he admired the enormous smile on your face. Your laughter somehow drowned out the sound of swords clanking against each other, the sounds of men screaming 'Watch out!'

"Watch out, Mydeimos!"

Mydei broke out of his trance as a rough kick to his abdomen caused him to end up on his back. No longer the view of you playing with the dog in his eyes, but instead the ever-blue sky.

For a moment, Mydei laid still, winded, staring up at the clouds drifting lazily by. His heart was still pounding from the kick, but his mind, for a brief moment, was somewhere else. In that space between the fight and the fall, he let his gaze drift back to you, watching the way the dog nuzzled against you, the two of you sharing some unspoken bond that felt as distant to him as the sky above.

He could feel the bitterness rise within him, a mix of frustration and something he couldn’t quite name.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched his mentor, Krateros, signal towards the field. It was then when an abundance of guards rushed over to that very field. Some grabbed your wrists roughly and dragged you away from the training grounds. Others were quick to drag the dog away with a prong collar.

If Krateros could describe how he felt about you, he'd say indifferent. He was well aware of the planned marriage between the two of you, but having spent more time with Mydei than anyone, he knew it wasn't a good idea for the future of Castrum Kremnos. However, his pleas fell on deaf ears. The king and queen were desperate for a change, even if it went against tradition.

"Focus, Mydeimos."

"Focus Mydeimos."

Mydei snapped out of his daze at Krateros' sharp words.

"She was supposed to finish the cup of wine as your wife. You had no business intervening like that."

When Mydei ignored the words of Krateros, he took it as his sign to continue. "Do you want your own people to think of you as weak? Standing before me cannot be the same man who killed-"

"Krateros, hold your tongue."

Used to the threats hidden in his words, Krateros sighed. "My apologies, my king. What I mean is, your parents, they did not die just for their son to be reduced to a fool in love! I never agreed on the marriage between you two, and it would seem I would be correct to have thought so!"

Mydei crossed his arms, forcing his gaze to meet Krateros' own with a coldness that mirrored his father’s. "I do not need your lessons on loyalty or strength," he said, his voice steady, though a flicker of something more vulnerable threatened to show. "If you weren't such a lapdog to the throne, this all could have been avoided."

Mydei had been groomed for this position, taught to never show weakness. The weight of their bloodline, their legacy, was supposed to be carried with pride, but now, Mydei was faced with the harsh reality of the expectations placed on him.

He straightened, pushing the heaviness of those thoughts aside, feeling the pressure of those around him. He was supposed to be something else, something his parents had wanted. But this… this was not the life he had chosen.

Krateros was still watching him, waiting for a response. Mydei met his gaze with a coldness that surprised even him. “I am not a puppet, Krateros. I will never be.”

Krateros’ face darkened, but Mydei didn’t flinch. The weight of their shared history hung between them, but it was no longer enough to bind him. His destiny was his to choose, even if it meant shattering the expectations they had built for him.

“You think you can change this, don’t you?” Krateros sneered, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You think you can escape who you are. But it’s in your blood, Mydeimos. You can’t outrun what’s inside you. You can't run from the lady waiting for a change that'll never happen.”

Krateros opened his mouth to continue, but Mydei turned away, his back to the man who had watched him grow.

For the first time, Mydei wondered if Krateros even knew who he truly was—or if anyone did.

The older man had shaped him, molded him into a figure of strength and cold precision. But did Krateros truly see him? Or was he just a reflection of the expectations placed upon him, a mirror of the man his father had been, a man Mydei no longer wanted to be? Krateros had seen him grow, yes, but had he seen the boy beneath the armor? Had anyone?

You had.

Mydei chose not to think about it.

With a quiet breath, Mydei stood taller, his back still turned to Krateros. The silence stretched, but Mydei could feel the shift inside him. He wasn’t sure if it was strength or defiance, but it was something. And he wasn’t going to let it be drowned out by the weight of his bloodline, by the sharp edges of Krateros’ scorn.

“I don’t need to escape,” Mydei said quietly, but his words carried weight. “I need to find my own path.”

Mydei walked away, walked until he made it to a familiar field. One where the two of you would spend days playing, joking around with each other until night came.

This was also the same place Mydei delivered the final blow to his father, King Eurypon.

Mydei was almost 18 now, soon ready to take the throne as king and takeover all of his father's errors and debts.

Tensions were high in the royal palace. Queen Gorgo and King Eurypon have been arguing day and night. Behind the heavy wooden doors of the royal chambers, they clashed with words sharper than any sword. Every decision was met with resistance, every plan torn apart by an unyielding will that only seemed to grow more bitter with time. Castrum Kremnos was falling.

The kingdom had long been a fortress of power and tradition, but now it felt as though it was crumbling under the weight of the monarchy itself. Whispers of weakness spread like wildfire through the court, fueled by the incessant quarrels of its rulers. Their once-unified front was now shattered, each king and queen stubbornly holding to their beliefs, no matter the cost to the kingdom.

Mydeimos could feel the tension pressing down on him like a vice. He had been watching this slow unraveling for years, but now it was so blatant that even the youngest of court members could sense it. His parents, once the pillars of their nation, were becoming strangers to each other—and to him.

His mother’s harsh words and his father’s biting retorts were more frequent now, each exchange more volatile than the last. The staff had become accustomed to the constant arguments, their faces drawn in exhaustion as they tried to carry on amid a palace that was slowly becoming a war zone.

As Mydeimos walked through the corridors, he passed the guards standing at attention, their eyes flicking nervously to one another. They had always been a symbol of strength, of unwavering loyalty to the crown, but now even they seemed uneasy. The very walls of the palace seemed to pulse with the strain of something fractured, something teetering on the edge of collapse.

"Where are mother and father?" The guards all looked at each other, hesitant to answer the prince's question. It wasn't until Mydei rested a strong hand on the hilt of his sword did one answer.

"They are at the field of flowers, the one where... lady [name] usually resides."

Mydei felt something in his gut, something akin to fear, and he wanted nothing more than to rip it out of him like a true Kremnoan.

With haste, he was quick to make it to the field.

The journey, once full of laughter and joy, was now one of dread and anxiety. The closer he got, the stronger the stench of blood became. Beautiful flowers were stomped on, bloody hand prints rested on trees, and animals were scurrying away.

When he finally arrived, the sight before him tore him into pieces. You were there, cradling Queen Gorgo's body in your arms; she was barely holding onto life. It got worse as Mydei realized the reason behind her state was none other than his own father.

King Eurypon stood before the two women with his sword raised.

The last thing Mydei heard before he took action was the cruel words of the bastard King.

"I will puncture through you to put an end to this reign. I have no sympathy for the wife of the man who'll take my throne."

The words echoed in Mydeimos' ears, each syllable striking like a hammer. His heart stopped. The finality of his father’s words—the utter disregard for human life, for loyalty, for everything they had built—was too much.

And just like that, something inside Mydeimos snapped.

The rage that had been building in him for years—his silent rebellion, his frustration, his hatred for the path he had been forced to walk—exploded in an instant. His father’s face, cold and cruel, became the target of his fury. He could hear nothing but the deafening roar in his ears, the pounding of his own heart as it raced faster than reason could catch up.

Without a second thought, he lunged.

But it wasn’t the sword he raised. No, instead, it was his own hands, his own fists, that continued to strike.

"You ruined everything!" Mydeimos yelled, voice hoarse, raw with emotion. "You ruined us!"

His father’s face, contorted in shock and pain, finally shifted. "You’re nothing but a spoiled child, Mydeimos. I’ll show you what it means to rule."

In that moment, Mydeimos saw through the façade of the man who had called himself king, the man who had been nothing but a tyrant hiding behind a crown. He had never cared about his people, never cared about his family. He had only cared about power, about maintaining control at any cost. And now it was too late.

The two fought like beasts, Mydeimos with his fists and the king with his sword. The wounds inflicted on them were paid no mind; it was time to put an end to this once and for all.

Mydeimos barely registered the sting of his own wounds, the cut on his cheek or the gash on his arm. The sound of your sobs seemed to only fuel his anger. The blood was a secondary concern—he could feel it dripping down his skin, but it was nothing compared to the burning need to destroy the man who had caused all this. To destroy the symbol of everything that had broken him, broken his family, and shattered his kingdom.

The king, too, seemed to feel no pain. The blade in his hand moved with a deadly grace, despite the fury in his eyes. It was a fight of survival for him as well. He didn’t just want to kill his son; he wanted to prove that he still had power, still had control. He wasn’t going to let a young fool like Mydeimos take away his reign.

The fight stretched on, each moment a battle of wills. Mydeimos could feel his muscles burning, his body screaming for respite, but there was no turning back. Every strike from the king was an insult. Every thrust of the sword was a reminder of his father’s disdain. And yet Mydeimos could see it in the king’s eyes, that flicker of uncertainty—he was losing. His own strength was fading.

As Mydeimos stood over the king, fate seemed to laugh at him as Krateros appeared with royal guards behind him.

The shock on his face would've been laughable if under different circumstances.

With a final breath, King Eurypon's gaze shifted to Krateros. "Krateros, you will make sure my son marries that girl as Gorgo planned so many years ago."

The words, though strained, hung in the air like a sentence. Mydeimos froze, his body taut with disbelief, his pulse pounding in his ears. That girl—the one who had been nothing more than a pawn in his father’s games, a figure to be manipulated, controlled, and discarded when it suited him.

The plan had always been to bind Mydeimos to you—his wife, his kingdom’s political future, his duty to the crown. The thought of it had always been a bitter pill, but never had he imagined that it would come at the cost of everything else. His father, in his final moments, had not even offered a word of apology or remorse for the years of manipulation, the pain that had been caused by their arranged union. No, it was a cold, calculated command, one more betrayal among many.

Krateros, standing near the edge of the scene, nodded solemnly at the king’s words, his expression unreadable. His eyes shifted to Mydeimos, but there was no sympathy, no understanding. There was only the weight of duty in Krateros’ gaze. Duty to the crown, duty to the plan, duty to the legacy of the Kremnos bloodline.

“My king,” Krateros said, his voice a low murmur, almost reverent, “I will see to it.”

King Eurypon was no more.

Mydei could barely register the shouts from Krateros, telling them to leave Queen Gorgo to lay to rest. The sound of you crying as the former queen was ripped from your grasp didn't even make him flinch.

The Kremnoan guards were quick to flee, Krateros deciding to leave you and Mydei alone.

"M-Mydei," you sobbed, your voice trembling, not knowing how to reach him through the walls of fury and exhaustion that seemed to encase him. The sound of his name seemed to strike something deep within him, though it only made his fists clench tighter, as if the very mention of the old name was a reminder of all the pain, the betrayal, and the heavy burden he'd been carrying.

He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Not yet.

The sight of you, crumpled before him, bloodied and broken, stirred something deep inside him—something fierce, something tender, something buried beneath the weight of years. But it wasn’t enough to stop the coldness in his eyes.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. Tears spilled from your eyes, the overwhelming reality of what had happened crashing into you. “I don’t know what happened! O-oh my god, there's so much blood, I-”

The words died on your lips as the nausea hit you all at once, a sharp wave of sickness sweeping through you. Your stomach churned, and before you could do anything to stop it, you found yourself hunched over, retching in the dirt. The bile tasted bitter in your mouth, the sharp tang of it mixing with the overwhelming metallic scent of blood that lingered in the air.

Mydeimos stood there, silent, his gaze unwavering, though his jaw clenched tighter as he watched you. For a moment, it felt like everything was at a standstill. The wind seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the distant rustle of leaves, the drip of blood on the ground.

His hand twitched, but he didn’t move toward you. It was as if the space between you both had become an impenetrable wall, one that neither of you knew how to cross.

For a long, agonizing moment, Mydeimos didn’t speak. He simply watched you, as if waiting for something—perhaps an explanation, perhaps for you to offer him the closure he didn’t know he needed.

The tension stretched taut between you, but the silence remained. The world around you felt too loud, too chaotic, but Mydeimos stayed still, his breathing steady, as though he were holding something back. His expression was unreadable, impossible to decipher.

"Instead of apologizing, maybe you should focus on getting stronger and growing up."

Mydei sighed as he recalled that day. After everything had gone down, he found refuge in his father's office. That is where he read the countless letters and documents concerning the marriage between the two of you. Papers that were dated back to almost a decade ago.

The marriage between you both was confirmed from the moment you stepped foot from Styxia and into Castrum Kremnos.

“You are just as trapped as I am, aren’t you?” he muttered under his breath, though he knew you couldn’t hear him. He couldn't even be sure if you felt the same way. The distance between you two had only grown since that night. Since the bloodshed. Since that moment, everything had come crashing down. It was for the better, being close to Mydei has only brought you pain.

But still, despite the rage, the resentment, the years of manipulation, Mydeimos couldn't help but wonder—would things have been different if he had taken the time to talk to you that day? Instead of leaving you there, curled in your own warmth, trying to comfort yourself?

He shook his head, his fingers clenching around the papers, crumpling one of the letters in his grip. It doesn’t matter now,he thought bitterly. What matters is what happens next.

But the problem remained: He couldn’t just cast you aside, not when the fate of the kingdom—and his own future—hung in the balance. You were always part of the plan, whether either of us liked it or not.

And now, you were waiting for him at the very place he wished to escape from.

The room felt like a distant, hollow space—a far cry from the warmth you had once imagined a marriage bed would hold. The sheets were cold against your skin, the air thick with the emptiness of your thoughts. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the walls, stretching into corners that seemed to hold secrets you weren’t ready to confront.

Tradition dictated that this would be the night—your wedding night—when you were expected to share more than just vows, when the marriage would be consummated and the bond between husband and wife would be solidified. But tonight, you lay alone, your fingers tracing the edge of the cold, untouched bed. There was no Mydeimos to fill the silence, no warmth of his presence to break the quiet.

Instead, your mind drifted back to that fateful night.

All you could do was watch as Mydei turned his back on you, leaving you covered in blood that wasn't your own.

The night suddenly took a turn for the worse. One moment, you were enjoying the calming breeze, counting the stars that hung in the bright sky. A shadow loomed over you, one you thought was Mydeimos, only to make eye contact with the eyes of the king.

"K-king Eurypon, it is an honor to be in your presence." You bowed your head in greeting.

"Tell me girl, what do you think of my son?"

The question caught you off guard, but you still chose to tell the truth anyways.

"Mydei," the king's eyes glared at you, "M-mydeimos is a strong warrior. He is very hardworking and prideful. It's truly admirable."

He hummed in thought. "I'm glad you think so highly of my son. I'll be sure to tell him you held him in such high regard."

The words were barely registering in your mind as his sword was quick to be drawn and pointed against your chest.

"A shame, truly. My wife thought it would be a good idea for a marriage alliance between you two."

Marriage? And why is the king trying to murder you?!

"W-what?" You managed to stammer out. This only made the sword press deeper into your chest. "You will never be able to live up to Kremnoan traditions and strength. You will only bring my son and this already fallen kingdom to hell."

It was then when Eurypon struck down with his sword, and it would've been the end of you if another sword hadn't come down to block the strike.

"Even now, you still are fighting against me, Gorgo?"

There in front of you, was none other than the queen.

"Eurypon, this is not how to go about business matters. Killing the girl will not solve all of our problems."

Eurypon and Gorgo had very opposing views with the alliance of Styxia. Eurypon wanted to take over by force, like a true Kremnoan. Gorgo sought other means, wanting less bloodshed and a possible connection with Styxia. Gorgo wanted connections, Eurypon wanted land.

"Gorgo, do you need a reminder of how a king rules his people?"

The two fought endlessly, and all the pressure that built up over time came out in their fierce battle. All you could do was watch as Gorgo began to weaken, her body falling pathetically in front of you.

She paid the king no mind; instead, her fading eyes focused on you. "I...I know you will bring good to my kingdom, to my son."

"Gorgo, I will make sure the two get married as your dying wish. The kingdom you brought to power will fall because of you, and I'll be there to fix it all my way."

It was then that another person came into view, a heartbroken Mydeimos who slained the king. Later, it was a shocked Krateros who took the queen from your hold.

The end of a reign and the start of a tragedy.

You didn’t know how to feel. Grateful or embarrassed? Humiliated, even. You were still his wife (once childhood friend), but it felt like you didn’t even exist to him anymore. Not since that night. The night that had changed everything between the two of you.

Your chest tightened at the memory—the chaos, the violence, the words left unsaid. That night had burned itself into your mind in a way you couldn’t forget, no matter how much you tried to block it out. His eyes had been cold, distant, filled with a rage and grief you didn’t know how to reach through. You hadn’t spoken since, not really. Not the way you used to. You couldn’t even recall the last conversation you had before everything fell apart.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you pulled the blanket tighter around you, hoping it would offer you some comfort against the chill that had settled in your heart. The silence seemed to stretch forever, the weight of it heavier than anything you had felt before.

You couldn't help but wonder if this was how it would always be—if the distance between you and Mydeimos was something that couldn’t be undone.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you pulled the blanket tighter around you, hoping it would offer you some comfort against the chill that had settled in your heart. The silence seemed to stretch forever, the weight of it heavier than anything you had felt before.

The once-familiar castle felt nothing more than a dreading curse on your soul. Halls where you would spend chasing around the young prince were now full of laughter and insults.

You couldn't help but wonder if this was how it would always be—if the distance between you and Mydeimos was something that couldn’t be undone.

As sleep was finally about to take over, the door slammed open and an angry Mydei stormed in.

He seemed shocked to see you actually there, his eyes silently saying 'so you didn't run away?'

The maids had dressed you in the finest of red silks, a color they said their king enjoyed. But in this moment, it seemed he didn't even want to look at you.

Your mind stumbled over a greeting, scared to say the wrong thing and scared that your voice would still be hoarse from the poison. None of that mattered as he took the initiative to speak. "I will be heading off to war in a few days. There is no need to see me off."

The silence between you was suffocating, thick with all the things neither of you were willing to acknowledge. You longed to break it, to ask him why, to demand an explanation for the way he was shutting you out, but the truth was, you were afraid of the answer. And even more, you were terrified of the way you might look to him now—the woman who had failed him, who had failed to be the wife he needed, who was now only a shadow in his life.

You shifted on your feet, the cold weight of the silence pressing harder with every passing second.

"I... I understand," you finally managed to say, your voice barely a whisper, betraying how broken you really felt. "I’ll... I’ll respect your wishes."

Mydei turned to leave, but just before the door closed, you heard him.

"Don't follow me." His voice was so quiet it almost seemed like an afterthought, but the command within it was unmistakable. It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t gentle, either. It was the final word, the one that sealed the distance between you both.

With that, he shut the door.

During these past days, you didn't leave the room once. You aren't sure where Mydeimos has been or if he has already gone off to war. The maids were kind enough to bring you food, but you were cautious to eat it after the poisoned wine.

The meals sat untouched on the small table by the window, cooling and growing stale. You were hungry, but fear held you back. Fear of what the food might hold, of what new betrayal could come from the very people who should have protected you.

As the days passed, your body began to feel the effects of the isolation—weakness in your limbs, a constant dull ache in your chest. The silence in the room became unbearable. You had become a ghost in your own life, tethered to the bed by your own insecurities, trapped in a room full of memories that both comforted and tormented you.

It wasn't long before rumors started to spread around the castle.

"The Kremnoan soldiers last weeks without a proper meal, and that invader can't last a few days?"

"She's probably trying make our king pity her."

"Does she not know we Kremnoans have no room for pity?"

"I heard, on the night of their wedding, she seduced one of the guards and bedded him. That's why King Mydeimos looked so frustrated!"

It was endless chatter happening outside of your door, the rumors you heard were absurd, and it almost made you cry a few times.

Everything about this situation was so frustrating! You had no one to talk to; sure, the maids were nice, but they loved to partake in all the gossip. You weren't even able to find comfort in your parents, who put you in this mess in the first place.

All you could do was stare out the window and wish for better days.

Even today, the commotion happening outside was nauseating. Cheers and screams of triumph were heard all over, and you couldn't help but be curious.

With a peek outside, you witnessed the ginormous army of Castrum Kremnos being led by no other than Mydeimos himself.

He was going off to war today.

The banners of Castrum Kremnos billowed in the wind, the rhythmic stomp of soldiers’ boots shaking the very ground beneath them.

The people cheered, their voices rising in a deafening roar of admiration and loyalty. To them, this was a moment of pride—of power. To you, it was something else entirely.

Your fingers curled against the windowsill as you watched him from the safety of your prison, your place in his life now reduced to that of a silent observer.

Your heart twisted painfully.

You should have been down there. You should have been by his side.

But Mydeimos had made it clear—Don’t follow me.

And so you stayed, trapped behind glass, watching the man you once knew disappear into the distance, leading an army to war.

All you could do was ask yourself why?

Why did he leave you alone that day? Why didn't he let you explain everything that happened?

Why did he shut you out?

Maybe it was because of everything piling up, but you couldn't bear to look outside the castle window anymore. It was a tragedy, a tragedy that could've been avoided if he had just listened to you.

But maybe his anger towards you was valid?

The thought unsettled you, but you couldn't deny some of the truth behind it. After all, you were the woman forced into his life, a foreign queen whom his people despised.

After all, you were his father's dying wish, the man he hated most.

You turned your back to the window, missing the way Mydei spared a glance at the highest window on the castle; missing you.

The night Mydeimos left was one celebrated. Everyone knew he and his army were going to obtain an easy victory, so they celebrated with the most delicious alcohols and foods.

You, however, found no comfort in their revelry.

Seated at the far end of the grand dining hall, you felt like a ghost in your own castle. No one paid you any mind—not the lords who clinked their goblets in toasts, nor the noblewomen whispering behind painted fans. You were nothing but a reminder of an unwanted union, a foreign queen with no real place in their hearts.

You felt grateful; it took a lot of courage to even come out in the first place.

The wine before you remained untouched. The food, no matter how enticing, held no appeal. You felt sick, not from the lingering fear of poison, but from the weight of isolation pressing on your chest.

"Ah, this is the King's wife? How weak." A group of scholars in the corner decided to be the first to interact with you tonight, albeit negatively.

"She's meek, but her looks surpass the brutes of Kremnoan women." Another one snickered out.

"Tell us, wife, how did your first night with the King go?" This caught the attention of the rest of the patrons in the room.

"Is it true he's as ruthless in bed as he is in battle?" A lady, one who you remember laughing at the wedding, asked intrusively.

"I-"

"Didn't you hear? She was unable to get him to enter the room! She had to go find a guard to take care of her harlot needs."

"That's not what..!"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the group of men glared at you, as if daring you to speak up.

"You need to be confident in your abilities." A 16-year-old Mydei said to you. "If you sound confident, people will naturally believe it."

You sighed. "Mydei, I don't think it'll matter how hard I try. I'm not a Kremnoan, just some girl her parents sent here so they wouldn't have to be responsible for me."

Mydei let out a deep chuckle.

"You think that's all you are?" he asked, shaking his head with something close to amusement. "You underestimate yourself."

His confidence in you was almost laughable. You gave him a skeptical look, crossing your arms. "And what am I, then? Some grand strategist? A warrior in disguise?"

He leaned in slightly, the moonlight casting sharp shadows across his face. "You are someone who can shape the world with nothing but your words—if you learn how to use them properly."

You blinked at him, taken aback by his certainty. Mydei was never one to sugarcoat things, and he certainly wouldn’t say something just to spare your feelings.

"Confidence is half the battle," he continued, arms folded. "If you say something with conviction, even the gods might start to believe it."

For a brief moment, you almost believed him.

You brushed off his words with a laugh. "I have you with me, and I know you'll never let any harm come to me." Although you said it jokingly, you both knew it was the truth.

How laughable.

"That's not what happened that night. You all are so concerned in the king's business and involving him in such baseless rumors. Is this how you act while he's out there fighting for us all?"

There was a wavering in your voice, one even you couldn't deny, but it was enough to stun them all into silence. The once lively air was now tense and awkward.

With a clear of your throat, you excused yourself for the night.

As you stepped away, the weight of their stares clung to you like a phantom touch. You could still hear the hushed whispers behind you, muffled by the clinking of goblets and the distant melody of a lute. They wouldn’t dare speak louder, not after the way you had silenced them.

But had you truly silenced them? Or had you only made yourself a greater target?

Your hands trembled slightly as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors to your chambers, the warmth of the grand hall replaced by the biting chill of isolation. You barely made it to the vanity before gripping its edges, trying to steady yourself.

You had spoken with confidence, just as Mydei once told you to. Yet, your voice had wavered.

Would that be enough for them to see through you?

With a heavy sigh, you turned toward the mirror, searching your own reflection for something—anything—that resembled the queen you were supposed to be.

But all you saw was a girl trapped in a place that would never truly be hers.

Sleep came a bit easier that night.

The morning was full of regrets as the door to your chambers was nailed shut.

You pulled and slammed against it but to no avail. You heard the snickers as people passed by, and the tears began to fall.

The laughter outside was distant now, their amusement fading as they moved on, leaving you alone with your humiliation.

You wiped at your tears angrily, hating how easily they fell. This was what they wanted—to break you, to remind you of your place, to make sure you knew you were nothing more than an outsider playing queen in a kingdom that would never be yours.

But would Mydeimos find out?

Would he even care?

A bitter taste filled your mouth at the thought. You turned away from the sealed door, your body shaking with something far stronger than sorrow.

If they thought this would make you cower, they were wrong.

Your breathing evened out as you forced yourself to stand tall. If they thought this was enough to break you, they underestimated you.

You turned from the door, scanning the room for anything—anything at all—that could help. The windows were too high, the furniture too heavy to use for leverage. You were trapped like an animal in a cage, but you refused to let yourself feel like one.

Instead, you paced.

Minutes turned into hours, the once-dim light of morning stretching into the harsh glow of midday. The laughter outside had long faded, replaced by the distant hum of daily life in the palace. As if nothing had happened. As if you weren’t locked away, forgotten.

A sudden sound startled you—a soft rustling from the door. Your heart pounded as you turned, half-expecting a cruel trick. But then, a shadow moved just from under the crack in the door.

A quiet knock, and then the sound of something being slammed against the door.

It was scary, and it caused you to take cautious step-backs.

One final slam, and the door busted open.

"Krateros?" You said in utmost shock. You remember your few interactions with him, all very brief. The last time you'd seen him, he was at Mydei’s side, whispering words of war and legacy into his ear.

Krateros stood in the doorway, his broad frame casting a shadow over your trembling form. His dark eyes swept the room before settling on you, unreadable as ever.

"You look surprised," he muttered, stepping inside without invitation. His boots left faint imprints on the rug, damp from the evening chill. "Did you think they'd just leave you here to rot?"

You swallowed hard, your back pressing against the far wall. “I—” You didn't even know what to say, because honestly, yes you did believe that.

"As much as I believe you aren't fit as queen, I... made a promise that night. Before the queen fully passed."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of that night. The one where everything had fallen apart, where Mydei's father had been killed, where the weight of duty had been thrust onto both your shoulders, though neither of you had truly chosen it.

"What promise?" Your voice barely rose above a whisper. The chill in the room seemed to deepen as you tried to comprehend his words.

Krateros’ eyes softened, just for a moment. It was a fleeting glimpse, quickly masked by his usual hardened demeanor. He crossed the room toward you, the air between you heavy with tension.

"The queen," he began, his voice a rare softness, "she... asked me to ensure you weren’t left to suffer in silence. That you were given the chance to survive."

"I couldn't give her a quick enough response before she passed, so to be quite honest, I never felt indebted to her... to you."

He avoided your eyes.

"But I spoke with Mydeimos recently." Your body visibly tensed at the mention of his name. "There's no changing his mind," Krateros had a fond look in his eyes.

"If you want to be more than a puppet queen, then you’ll need to change. Prove to these people that you have teeth, not just a crown," Krateros said, his words heavy with a cold truth.

You wanted to protest, to scream that you hadn’t asked for this role, that you’d never wanted to be a pawn in a game you couldn’t even understand. But Krateros wasn’t wrong.

"I’m not… I’m not like them," you said, the words escaping before you could stop them. "I can’t just… pretend to be someone I’m not."

Krateros raised an eyebrow. "No one expects you to pretend, but right now, you're invisible. And in this world, that’s worse than being hated."

ou flinched, the truth of his words stinging more than you cared to admit.

"And as for Mydeimos…" He paused, as though considering how much to reveal. "He doesn’t want a queen who’s meek, who lets herself be shut away. He wants power. And you—" Krateros’ eyes flicked to your face, sharp and calculating, "—you need to show him you can wield it."

Your mind spun with the idea. Could you do this? Could you become the queen the kingdom demanded, even if it meant losing yourself in the process? Or perhaps—just perhaps—you could reclaim something from this mess and turn it into something of your own.

"Yes... You're right. I need to survive because I..." I miss my friend is what you wanted to say but left quiet.

Krateros took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. There was a calculating coldness in his eyes, but beneath it, something more dangerous lingered. It wasn’t kindness, but something akin to respect, or perhaps something more manipulative.

"If you want to prove your worth, start by helping in this war."

His words were a bit of an eye-opener; you had no idea who Mydeimos was even fighting or why. If you were able to help someway, it'll be perfect. "With all due respect sir, I don't think I'm fit for fighting." You couldn't help but shy away.

Krateros’ lips curled into a smirk at your hesitation, his eyes scanning you with something akin to amusement. "No one’s asking you to wield a sword, Your Majesty. But you’re smart enough to know there are other ways to contribute. War isn’t just about fighting on the frontlines. It’s about strategy, influence, and knowing how to manipulate the forces around you. Your place in this war isn’t on a battlefield, but in the court, in the strategy rooms, and with the people who can sway the outcome."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Strategy. Influence. Those were things you’d never thought of in relation to yourself, and yet, here they were, suddenly thrust upon you.

"But I—" you started, but Krateros cut you off with a sharp gesture of his hand, his eyes darkening.

"You’re not a helpless pawn, [Name]. If you want to survive, you need to learn how to play the game. And that means you need to start thinking like the Kremnoans do." His voice was low, firm, almost a growl. "Every action has a purpose. Every word spoken in court, every ally made or broken. You need to learn how to use them all to your advantage."

"I’ll do it," you said quietly, more to yourself than to him. "I’ll learn."

Krateros nodded approvingly, the faintest trace of something—satisfaction, perhaps?—glimmering in his eyes. "Good. You’re starting to understand. Freshen up and meet me in the library in approximately 5 minutes."

Your eyes widened. "5 minutes? Is that even enough time to...!" Krateros was already out the door.

You rushed to the mirror, hastily brushing through your hair and adjusting your clothes. A queen. You need to look the part. But the rush, the pressure—it felt like everything was moving too quickly.

You didn't even have time to catch your breath as you pushed open the door and hurried toward the library. You had no idea what Krateros had planned for you there, but you knew it wouldn't be anything easy. It never was with him.

When you arrived, you found the massive wooden doors already slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside. The room was as imposing as ever, shelves filled with scrolls, books, and maps, the air thick with the scent of parchment and ink. Krateros stood by a long table, his back to you as he perused a map laid out before him.

"Right on time, good."

You finally managed to let out the breath you were holding in.

He finally turned to face you, his gaze sharp. "Sit."

You hesitated for a moment before doing as instructed. Krateros slid the map over to you, revealing the territories and borders of Castrum Kremnos, marked with different symbols and annotations.

"Start here," he said, tapping a red X near the southern border. "This is where we’ll be focusing our efforts. A new alliance is forming in the region called Pixara, and we need to decide how to handle it."

Your gaze flicked to the map, uncertainty creeping in. "But... how can I—"

"You're not here to question," Krateros cut you off sharply. "You're here to learn, to make decisions. I'll guide you, but you have to think like a ruler. Think about the people, the stakes. And then, decide what the best course of action is."

"Now, I want your opinion. What do you think we should do? You've been in Castrum Kremnos long enough, it's about time you started learning how things work around here." Krateros pressed, his gaze unwavering. "How do we deal with this new alliance? How do we defeat Pixara?"

"From the perspective of a Kremnoan, charging in and defeating them would be their first choice. A quick and easy slaughter. Though I..." you thought back to all the letters sent from your mom, teachings she was too lazy to do in person. "We could negotiate with them, offer an alliance of our own—one that strengthens us both. Or... we could play them against each other, cause dissent, and let them destroy themselves."

The air in the library felt heavier, more suffocating now. You could feel Krateros' gaze on you, his silence pressing down like a weight. You’d spoken, given him your answer, and now you had to prove that you could handle the consequences of those words.

Krateros stepped closer, running a finger along the edge of the map. His voice was low, calculating. "I like your idea. Playing them against each other will keep us in a position of power, but it’s a dangerous game. We’ll need more than just words. We’ll need spies, alliances of our own, and a very sharp eye for deception."

He paused, allowing his words to hang in the air like a threat. You felt your palms begin to sweat. This was it. This was where you either sank or swam.

"And you'll need to be careful," Krateros added, his eyes finally locking with yours. "You don't have the luxury of hesitation. They won’t wait for you to make up your mind. If you hesitate, they’ll tear you apart."

His words struck like a slap, and you flinched involuntarily. "I understand," you managed, your voice steadier than you felt.

He nodded. "Good. We’ll begin at once. First, you need to learn the geography of Amphoreus and history of Pixara. Then, you'll need to meet with the generals and get a grasp on the situation. Learn everything you can about our current position. Finally, we’ll start making moves."

You nodded quickly, wanting to appear confident, even though your mind was racing. Become more aware and educated. Meet with the generals. Get a grasp on the situation. The task was daunting, but it was the only way forward.

Krateros’s eyes narrowed, his lips curving into a slight smirk. "Don't forget what you've learned here, [Name]. Your position is tenuous at best. You’re not just representing yourself anymore. You represent Kremnos."

Your first task—Pixara's geography and history. It was a daunting start, but you had to begin at the root of the problem. Why was this alliance forming in the first place?

The library felt even more overwhelming than before. Rows upon rows of ancient tomes lined the walls, each one seemingly a gateway to a piece of the puzzle you needed to solve. You glanced at the high shelves, the vast collection of knowledge all at your disposal. But where to begin?

You pulled down one of the books labeled History of the War Between Nations, and the sheer weight of it felt like a burden. You flipped it open, eyes scanning the pages, trying to piece together the history of Kremnos and its wars with neighboring kingdoms. As the hours passed, the words began to blur together, the names and dates sinking into a fog. The more you read, the more questions you had.

Who could be trusted? Which alliances were real? Where had the kingdom gone wrong?

And what could I possibly do to fix any of this?

It was then an idea hit you: You were still a royal from Styxia, they could join us!

The reason for Kremnos's alliance with Styxia—and why they wanted to secure your marriage to Mydeimos—wasn't just about the kingdom’s internal strength. It was about survival.

From what you gathered, Kremnos had once been a much larger power, holding dominion over vast stretches of land, but it had splintered over the centuries, weakened by betrayal and constant war. The neighboring kingdom of Styxia had always been a threat, a kingdom rich with soldiers and political influence, but the alliance was not born out of mutual respect. It was born out of necessity.

Kremnos needed Styxia’s resources, its warriors, and its sheer manpower to maintain any semblance of power in Amphoreus. And Styxia needed Kremnos for access to the trade routes, the wealth, and the stability of a larger kingdom. Now, they had what they wanted through the marriage of you and Mydeimos; it was about time they paid you back.

And so, your first step was writing a letter to your mother back in Styxia.

To My Beloved Mother,

I trust this letter finds you well, as it is my hope that this message will carry more weight than mere pleasantries.

I am reaching out to you, Mother, because it is time to ask for what I need in return. Styxia must come to my aid—not through direct intervention, but through resources, information, and political maneuvering. I need Styxia’s support in securing my place here as a force to be reckoned with, both to stabilize this kingdom and to help guide Mydeimos toward becoming the ruler this land needs.

With all the respect I can muster,

[Name] Queen of Castrum Kermnos.

The days following the letter’s dispatch were filled with tense anticipation. Every moment felt like a countdown, but you had no idea when the reply would come. Krateros was still helping you and making sure you were actually eating.

You had done all you could for now—sending a message to Styxia and beginning your education on Kremnos’ geography, history, and its position in the war. Krateros’s demand to meet with the generals was still looming, but there was no immediate need to rush into that; for now, you kept busy with what you could control.

The knock on your door broke through your spiraling thoughts, and you quickly stood, adjusting your posture to appear composed. You didn’t have the luxury of weakness anymore.

"Enter," you called, voice steady.

The door creaked open, revealing one of the castle’s servants holding a sealed letter.

"Your Majesty," she said, bowing low as she extended the letter.

Your heart skipped a beat. The seal was unmistakable—it was from Styxia.

Without a word, you took it from her hands, immediately breaking the wax seal. You read through the contents quickly, your eyes widening as you absorbed the information within.

Your hands clenched around the letter as you processed its contents. The message was clear: Styxia had granted you their conditional support.

You had no time to waste. The war, the generals, the people—they all awaited a queen who could lead them.

The next steps were clear now. You would prepare to meet with the generals and gather the information Krateros had insisted you understand. You would learn every detail about the war—what they were fighting for, who the enemy was, and where the key strategic points were.

The next morning, you dressed in a simple yet authoritative gown, forgoing the luxurious silks that you were once adorned with. You needed to prove yourself capable, not just of ruling in the shadows, but as someone worthy of standing in the light. Your expression was set with determination as you stepped out of your chambers, ready to face the generals.

The long walk through the palace halls felt longer than it should have. Every step echoed, as if the palace itself was waiting for you to take action. As you arrived at the war room, the heavy wooden doors loomed ahead, guarded by two sentries.

"Your Majesty," one of them greeted, opening the door without hesitation. You nodded and entered, only to be met with the steely gazes of several high-ranking generals. They were older, grizzled men, some of whom had seen more battles than they would care to count. But their respect was not given freely.

At the far end of the room, General Mavros, an older man with a thick beard and scarred face, looked up from a map sprawled across the table. His gaze shifted to you, and despite his age and experience, there was a visible flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Your Majesty," he began, his voice a mixture of authority and curiosity. "To what do we owe this honor?"

"I’ve come to understand the situation in full," you said, your voice steady, clear. "I’ve come to see how I can help lead this war."

Mavros raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for you to continue.

"I want to know everything," you demanded. "The enemy, our positions, our strengths and weaknesses. All of it. I intend to be involved. I will not be a queen in name alone."

The next few hours were a blur of information, names of enemy factions, strategic locations, and key battles. The complexities of war unfolded in front of you as Mavros and the other generals taught you what they knew—about the landscape, the movements of enemy armies, and the politics of the other factions involved.

It was then you suggested your idea of tearing them apart from the inside. Plant a mole, spread misinformation, and make them surrender.

Krateros, who had remained in the background up to this point, stepped forward, his eyes calculating. "It’s bold. But it’s also risky. The enemy could catch on quickly, and if they do, we’ll be exposed as the ones responsible. We need to be careful with this approach."

"That is where my home kingdom comes into play. Styxia will be our alibi."

"Explain," Mavros said, his tone all business now.

You stood straighter, your confidence solidifying. "Styxia, my homeland, has a history with the neighboring kingdom we're fighting. They’ve always wanted influence in Amphoreus, and as a result, they’re often suspected of meddling in its affairs. We can use that suspicion to our advantage. By making it look like Styxia is supporting the enemy, we can feed into their paranoia and create division within their ranks."

You could see the generals begin to process what you were proposing. Krateros’s gaze flickered with recognition, while Mavros’s calculating expression told you he was considering the broader implications.

"We don’t need them to know we're involved directly. If Styxia's name is associated with the unrest, the enemy will begin to doubt every move their allies make. They’ll turn on each other, without us ever lifting a sword."

Krateros, ever the skeptic, crossed his arms. "But Styxia would never commit to such an act openly. If we move forward with this, we’ll need to make sure they’re kept in the dark. Their involvement must be only implied, and that requires finesse."

"That's why our mole is essential," you replied, stepping forward. "We can use Styxia's reputation as a shield. The rumors can start with someone who has a connection to the kingdom, someone with the knowledge to plant seeds of doubt. This way, Styxia can remain unaware, and our position won't be compromised."

"Let’s not waste any time," you said, your voice firm. "The longer we wait, the more chances they have to uncover our plan. Let’s set this into motion immediately."

Mavros looked to the others, who gave a quiet nod of agreement. "We move quickly, then. This could be the turning point we’ve been waiting for."

Another warrior was slain by the hands of Mydeimos. It was never-ending at this point. A week into battle and Pixara has yet to yield.

It wasn't that Castrum Kremnos was weak by any means, but Pixara had numbers. Numbers that shouldn't be possible for a newer alliance.

It was clear to Mydeimos that Pixara had underground connections. Connections to kingdoms that most likely wanted to witness the fall of Castrum Kremnos.

It was then that an argument broke out amidst battle between warriors on the opposing side. "What are you saying? Styxia was never promised to us! We're fighting for bigger kingdoms than that!"

"You fool! Styxia and Castrum Kremnos are relying on each other now! If we take down one, we get the other!"

"Then why are we even fighting? King Mydeimos and his wife don't even get along! She'll give us their powers without all this bloodshed!"

"Where did you hear such rumors!?"

The argument between the warriors grew louder, their voices sharp and accusatory, as if the tensions on the battlefield were not enough to contend with. In the midst of the chaos, the clatter of swords and shields drowned out the shouts of their own comrades.

One of the warriors, his armor dented and worn from the heat of the battle, spat out, "You think too highly of yourself. If Styxia were truly so eager to abandon Kremnos, they would've done it by now! But they haven’t. They’re still dependent on us, just like we’re dependent on them."

Another voice, thick with disbelief, responded, "Don’t be so naïve. You don’t understand the politics of it all. It’s not about kingdoms anymore—it’s about survival. Mydeimos' wife—what a joke. She’s as much of a pawn as anyone. When she takes control, the entire balance of power will shift. Kremnos will fall. Styxia will take the reins.”

The first blow came suddenly, without warning. A crazed, bloodied warrior, his face twisted with exhaustion and frustration, swung his sword at the nearest comrade. The strike was wild, driven not by skill, but by pure desperation.

The clang of steel hitting steel echoed across the battlefield, and for a brief moment, the fighting halted, the warriors around him looking at one another in confusion.

"What are you doing?" someone shouted, trying to back away from the escalating madness. "If you keep this up, Pixara will fall! All of our effort, all our resources!"

But the man, his eyes wide and unseeing, didn’t answer. He was too far gone, the madness of battle overtaking his sanity. His sword came down again, this time finding its mark in the chest of another warrior, sending him crashing to the ground with a pained scream.

The shout of alarm spread quickly. “Traitor! He’s lost his mind!”

Mydeimos signaled for his warriors to fall back.

His warriors hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to follow orders or try to salvage what was left of the frenzied battle. But the sight of Mydeimos—calm, collected, his expression stone cold—was enough to sway them. Slowly, they pulled back, retreating from the chaos unfolding behind them.

The battlefield, once a chorus of clashing swords and battle cries, fell into a grim silence, punctuated only by the ragged breaths of the fallen and the distant cries of those still fighting amongst themselves.

Mydeimos surveyed the scene, his jaw clenched in frustration. His eyes scanned the disarray—the scattered bodies, the warriors who had once been allies, now locked in confusion and violence against one another.

"Pathetic," he muttered under his breath, his fists tightening. "With the diverse group of nations in this alliance, opinions were bound to be different. But this?" His voice rose in disgust. "This is the end of unity, the end of purpose."

"Today, my army, we witness the fall of the weak known as Pixara!" Mydeimos shouted with a raise of his sword.

"We are Kremnoans! And we will never fall to these cowards!"

The battle cries that followed were fierce, loud, and unrelenting. The warriors surged forward once more, and with Mydeimos at their helm, they began to push back the disarrayed forces of Pixara. His eyes were focused, his mind calculating. This time, it was different. The defeat would be decisive. The rebels would feel the weight of their disobedience.

He'll be back home sooner than expected.

The news of their army's victory spread around Castrum Kremnos quickly, many were preparing for the return of the warriors excitedly.

You were also finally starting to be seen and respected as good word began to circuit about your participation in the small war.

You hadn’t truly expected it. You had been preparing for failure, even as you worked tirelessly behind the scenes. But now, as the whispers grew louder, you couldn’t deny the shift. You were no longer just the wife of Mydeimos, the one who had been thrust into a kingdom full of political intrigue and turmoil. No, now you were beginning to be seen as an asset, someone who could hold her own.

The palace felt different now. People greeted you with more respect, the once-dismissive looks were replaced with nods of acknowledgment. Some even approached you with suggestions, offering advice that seemed more like an invitation to join the ranks of those who would guide the future of Kremnos.

Your mind, though, was still occupied with Mydeimos.

What would Mydeimos say when he returned? Would he see your involvement in the war as a sign of your loyalty, or would it further estrange you both? Would this newfound respect be enough to create the change you desperately needed?

There was only one way to find out.

A few days later, the army returned with their king.

People lined the streets, their faces a mix of joy, curiosity, and anticipation. It was clear this victory meant more than just a battle won—it was a declaration of power, a symbol of the strength Castrum Kremnos now wielded, and a glimpse into what the future could hold.

Mydeimos was leading them; there was something in the way he looked at the crowds that made your stomach twist. It wasn’t joy or triumph in his eyes; it was a quiet, brooding intensity, as if the weight of the kingdom’s expectations, the loyalty of his people, and the complexities of his reign were bearing down on him all at once.

It wasn't until late into the night, when you were up walking around the now familar castle, when a hand came out of a room and yanked you inside.

The door slammed shut behind you, and for a moment, everything was still—silent and suffocating.

Your eyes adjusted to the low light, and before you could speak, you heard a voice.

"Don't make a sound," Mydeimos’ voice commanded, harsh and firm. It was the first time in weeks you’d heard it so close, so raw. His presence in the room felt almost like a storm, unpredictable.

He released his grip on your arm, and you took a step back, your pulse still racing. "Mydeimos, what—?"

"I told you not to speak," he snapped.

Mydeimos’ gaze softened for just a fraction of a second, though it was fleeting. "You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? The whispers around the court… the way they look at you now."

Your stomach dropped. "I only—"

"I don’t care what you’ve been trying to do." 

Your nervousness was quick to turn into anger.

It was as if the weight of everything that had happened—every word unsaid, every action, every betrayal—had been building up inside you, and now, finally, it was spilling over.

"You think you can just walk in here after everything, after everything that's happened, and still treat me like this?"

Mydei looked shocked before his brows furrowed, but you didn't give him time to speak.

"You left me at the altar; you left me without saying goodbye before heading into a war! Y-you even left me that night when all we had was each other!"

Your chest heaved with every breath, and the tears, which you had been holding back for so long, began to threaten. But you wouldn't let them fall. Not now.

"I wondered what I did wrong for so long! I just wanted my friend back. I wanted to be there for you after the fall of your parents! I just thought you'd need me the way I need you..."

You couldn't help the tears from falling now.

For a long moment, there was silence, broken only by the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears. Mydei looked at you, his face unreadable, but you could see the flicker of something—guilt, remorse, maybe even regret.

Finally, he spoke, his voice strained. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"You did a terrible job, Mydeimos!"

Your anger seemed to rub off on him now. "Could you stop calling me Mydeimos! To you, I am your Mydei!" He was damn near growling now, an animalistic look in his eyes. "Did you ever stop being selfish for one second and think about the consequences of us being so close?"

"Selfish? You're calling me selfish?"

"[Name], let me finish talking." He wasn't asking, and with the look in his eyes, you knew it'd be best to be quiet.

"I did what I had to do," Mydei continued, his tone low, laced with frustration and something darker—resentment, maybe. "I didn’t want to push you away. But we’re not children anymore. We’re not playing games. Every choice I made, every move I made, it wasn’t for me, it was for this damn kingdom, for Kremnos, for us, whether you understand it or not."

His fists clenched, the muscles in his jaw working as if he were restraining himself from saying more. His eyes never left yours, dark and intense, the emotions running so deep beneath the surface.

"You don’t get it," he muttered, almost to himself, his voice thick with bitter frustration. "You think I’ve been selfish? You think this is easy for me?" His breath hitched, and there was a flicker of something vulnerable in his gaze before he quickly masked it again. "I’ve been carrying this weight, this burden, all by myself. And I didn’t want you to have any part in it. That night in the field... I saw what my people, my own father, were capable of. It haunted me every night, seeing you like that, holding my mother's deceased corpse."

"Then... the marriage actually happened, and I knew there was no way for either of us out of it."

Your heart clenched, the venom in his words stinging more than you expected. Hell that’s coming... You didn’t want to ask him to explain. You didn’t want to know the details of his world, of the decisions he had to make. But you couldn’t help it.

"Is that why you avoided me? Because you thought it would keep me safe? Because you thought I couldn’t handle it?"

His eyes softened, just for a moment, before the harshness returned. "I left because I thought you deserved better. I thought you could have a life without the weight of this kingdom crushing you. Without being tangled in my mess. But maybe I was wrong about that."

You stepped back, your hands trembling, unsure if you wanted to hear more or if the truth was too much.

"Maybe you’re wrong about everything," you whispered, barely able to hold back the tears. "You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. You don’t get to keep me in the dark while you fight your battles and make your choices."

Mydei’s expression shifted—something flickered in his eyes. Regret? Sorrow? "I didn’t want to make those choices alone."

"You think you can fix this? After everything?" you asked, your voice trembling, raw with emotion. "What do you want from me, Mydei? After all this time, after everything you’ve put me through?"

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the words.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter, more uncertain. "I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I just know I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to keep running away from you."

You let his hand touch your face. "I heard about everything you did to help us, me, come home. It made me think about how much stronger you actually are. I... regretted making you rely on me so much as kids. You could have always been a strong leader if I had just given you the chance. If I let you adapt to life here instead of trying to seclude you from it."

Mydei’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. There was a quiet sincerity in his eyes now, a vulnerability that he rarely allowed anyone to see. He took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to say something more.

"I’ve been so scared of losing you," he confessed, his voice tight. "But maybe... maybe I’ve already lost us, in some way. Maybe we’ll never be what we once were."

You shook your head, stepping closer to him, your heart pounding. "We don’t have to be what we were, Mydei. We can be something else. We can start again—slowly, but together. If you’ll let me in again."

"We can be different from your parents; we don't have to end in tragedy."

He paused, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options, as if the weight of his past mistakes was heavier than the future he could possibly have with you.

After a long, tense silence, he nodded, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. "I want to try," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I want to try with you. If you’ll have me."

You took a deep breath, your chest tight with all the emotions you had been holding onto for so long. "I’ll have you, Mydei. But you have to promise me something. Promise me that we won’t hide from this anymore. Promise me we’ll face whatever comes together, no matter how hard it gets."

His grip on your face tightened slightly, a silent vow in his eyes. "I promise. No more running away."

You smiled. "No more running? Not even from a pretty butterfly that lands on your nose?"

Mydei's once longing face turned into one of annoyance. "You cannot be serious."

The look on his face made you laugh even harder; his scowl, which was usually threatening, felt like looking at a puppy. "If you had something randomly land on your nose, would you not freak out?"

With your laughter dying down, Mydei looked lovingly at you. He missed this.

"Not as much as you, that's for sure."

Mydei let out a 'hmph' as he grabbed your chin with his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. "W-what are you..!"

He leaned in gently, placing a soft kiss on your nose. This action left you flustered and a stuttering mess.

"I promise you, [Name]. I will not leave your side; I'll protect you no matter what." He pressed his nose against yours, forehead to forehead.

And for the first time in a long while, you believed him.

wowie this was long, i'm working on something similar for phainon (probably not as long), lmk if you wanna be tagged!

[arrakisser]

yeah.