#deserves to be queen of the fae | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beloveds-embrace · 28 days ago

Note

the fae animals ask made me kinda have some confidence of the fae boys being able to appreciate and care about even readers soft and more human qualities.

I hope the boys become desperately obsessed with both her strong more far likeness but also have a crisis realizing that they like her softness. I think some panicking is deserved on the boys part. I am still partial to our boys

also I think reader need some others in her corner and the fae animals are such lovely supports.

masterlist || cw: neglect and angst but it’s getting better trust me

It started, as most catastrophes do; with something terribly, innocently mortal.

A scarf, of all things.

It was nothing of note- no glamour woven into the threads, no whispering enchantments stitched along its hem. Just wool, soft and worn, hand-dyed in a shade of pale lavender that clashed horribly with the obsidian and ivy of your usual wardrobe. But you wore it regardless, looped twice around your neck as you wandered barefoot through the frost-touched gardens, your breath blooming into the mist.

Simon saw you first; he’d stepped from one of the doors, summoned by a courtier’s sniveling request, only to stop dead beneath the frostglass archway. The trees were alive with quiet, with fireflies and will-o-wisps watching from between the thorns- but none moved as you crumbled honeyed bread in your palm, scattering it over moss and stone.

He did not expect the birds that came for you.

Iridescent and shimmer-feathered, their glassy eyes gleamed like dew-wet gems. Birds that usually only sang for moonblood offerings or circled above dying kings- Simon remembers seeing them when Queen Mother publicly slaughtered the late King- came when you called, soothed by your voice as you hummed something heartbreakingly human.

And now, you scolded one when it snapped too eagerly at another. “Mind your manners! There’s enough for everyone!”

Simon nearly groaned aloud. Not from annoyance- but from the pressure building in his chest. Like a curse long slumbering. He needed to pull you close, squeeze your soft safe between his hands- ugh.

You were not cloaked in fae glamour. You did not drip moonlight from your lashes or speak in riddles.

And yet… all the old trees leaned subtly toward you; he didn’t tell the others of that, nor of this occasion, and instead cradled in the space between his ribs just for himself.

But things like you- tender, strange, human- don’t stay hidden long. Not when you were the Queen.

The next week, Johnny found you curled into the window seat of the great hall. Sunset painted molten gold across the high walls, catching in the floating motes of pollen-dust that always drifted lazily through the wings of the palace, especially in spring. You were barefoot again, your legs tucked beneath you like a child’s, nose buried in a battered mortal book whose cover had long since faded.

You were snorting with laughter- head tossed back, a hand slapping your knee like you couldn’t help it. The crown you’d worn that morning, spiked with garnets and bone, lay forgotten on a nearby table, half-buried under a folded shawl of spider-silk.

Johnny was halfway across the hall before he realized he was moving. He stopped only when your laughter faded and you turned, eyes crinkled and warm, still in the cozy world within your book.

He fled.

And sulked about it for the rest of the day. He was a creature of battle, of storms and songs sung in blood. A King’s advisor. He was not supposed to be enchanted by the softness of your laugh, the little crinkles in your eyes. Yet it was all he could see whenever he closed his eyes for the new hours.

It got worse when Kyle caught you in the kitchens; the palace’s heart at night was strange- lamplit with flame-flowers that opened only after sundown, their petals flickering like winking eyes. Everything pulsed with magic, every door could lead to a dream or a trap. Yet there you were, barefoot again (why were you always barefoot? Did you maids not ensure your comfort?) sneaking across tiled mosaics made from the bones of long-dead sea beasts, clutching a slice of chocolate cake like it was sacred.

Kyle froze. The moth that lived in your sleeve- the little beast could change its size- blinked sleepily at him. You looked up, wide-eyed, and your sheepish grin dimmed but you still held on and raised your chin.

“… You won’t tell?”

He gave you another piece.

Then sat outside your door later that night, staring up at the star-swallowed sky, and didn’t sleep a wink. Glowy and Thrain kept him company by glowing and growling at him, respectively.

John, then, watched you handle the court with a precision that could slice a man in half. You were everything they’d hoped a human queen wouldn’t be- poised, unreadable, willing to he adorned in thorns and black petals that whispered curses in dead languages, not making enough mistakes for them to consider throwing you back to the human kingdom. The fae bent for you, even when they didn’t want to. Because you were a good Queen- and you were slowly gathering supporters.

And then he found you, days later, curled in an oversized dress by the fireplace in your study.

You weren’t weeping. But your eyes were red, and Thrain, your antlered beast, had curled around you like a fortress, one massive antler tipped toward the fire. Your giant moth rested across your shoulders, wings twitching dreamily as it glowed soft golden light.

You looked up at him and said, in the voice of someone who had not spoken all day- who had no one to speak to all day:

“I didn’t think it would end that way.”

You said no more after that, but it was just enough to crack open the hollowed, ancient stone of his heart.

They all began to spiral after that, unsurprisingly. Curse you and your frustrating, beloved humanity.

Johnny wouldn’t wear anything you hadn’t touched, and even better if it held the scent of your soaps and perfumes. Kyle started leaving small gifts on your desk- tiny, enchanted things, but useful, and he smiled when he saw you using the little quill that liked to dance across parchment. Simon wouldn’t let anyone stand within a breath of you if they weren’t announced, glaring from behind like death incarnate- as if Thrain wasn’t enough.

And Price began to carry your scarf.

Not visibly, never that. But in the inside pocket of his coat, tucked like a relic he didn’t dare speak of. He’d raise it occasionally, when he was left alone-

And simply kiss its soft wool, and imagine to himself it was your forehead. It woukd suffice until he fixed this terrible mistake they’d made in their treatment and seclusion of you.

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hrizantemy · 29 days ago

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I’m sorry, but Rhysand saying “neither side was innocent” during the conversation with the mortal queens in ACOMAF, when the subject of fae enslaving humans was brought up, is one of the most egregious lines in the series — and it’s rarely discussed with the weight it deserves.

Let’s unpack that: he is speaking to a group of human women, representing the very group of people who were enslaved by fae for centuries, and when they bring up this long history of subjugation, torture, rape, and death, his response is to essentially say, “Well, both sides were bad.”

That is victim-blaming. That is revisionist history. That is colonialist rhetoric.

It’s no different than saying, “Well, the enslaved people fought back sometimes, so it wasn’t just the slavers who were wrong.” Rhysand, who wants to be painted as this morally enlightened, progressive High Lord, essentially minimizes the suffering of an entire species—the one his mate used to be a part of, no less—because acknowledging that the fae were uniquely cruel would be an inconvenient truth. He doesn’t show remorse. He doesn’t even offer an ounce of compassion.

Instead, he offers the oldest excuse in the book of abusers and empires: “It was mutual.”

No, it wasn’t. The fae were the enslavers. The humans were enslaved. Power imbalance matters. Scale and systems matter. And for Rhysand — who was alive during that time — to not only fail to acknowledge it, but dismiss it outright, is a massive moral failing.

What makes it worse is how it lines up with everything we’ve come to understand about how he views humans. Rhysand might love Feyre, but he doesn’t love humans. He doesn’t mourn their culture, their history, or what was taken from them. In fact, he only seems to acknowledge humans when it’s politically convenient (like trying to leverage Feyre’s mortal roots or the war). Otherwise, they’re an afterthought at best, disposable at worst.

And the fandom just…lets him get away with it.

There is no growth. No nuance. Just a man who calls himself “feminist” and “progressive” while upholding the very structures that oppressed entire peoples — and gaslighting them about it.

So yeah, “neither side was innocent”? I’m sorry, but what the actual fuck.

#anti acosf #anti inner circle #anti acotar #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti cassian #anti azriel #anti amren #anti morrigan #anti nessian #anti night court

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gurugirl · 10 months ago

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Must be nice | bfd!harry

Summary: You and Harry feel like everything's coming together perfectly. You're both getting all the things you wanted. But when you run into Fae while shopping and she notices something new about you, it bursts your little happy bubble.

Partly based on this request!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, age gap, angst, uncomfortable confrontation, pregnancy stuff 👀

Best Friend's Dad!Harry masterlist | Main Masterlist

. .

You had a feeling before it was confirmed. Harry had already started getting the small bedroom closest to the master bedroom ready; painted, new crib, little toys, a changing table. You joked with him about how it was probably bad luck to begin before you’d even taken the test but he reminded you of how your intuition told you he’d gotten you knocked up.

“Besides, if not now, then soon.”

He might have been more excited about it than you were. Which surprised you honestly. You weren’t even married yet, he was freshly divorced, and his daughter was hardly speaking to him.

Sometimes you wondered if he was throwing himself at this new life, new family, to suffocate the thoughts he had about what he’d done. You hated to think that he was feeling guilt and that the only way he could get his head above water was to pretend everything was okay.

But then again, you were doing the same thing. It hurt too much to get into your head about everything. About how you’d ruined your relationship with your best friend and in turn, ruined her relationship with her father. So, there was guilt there, you just preferred to pretend things were perfectly fine.

And things were fine. Really. You got what you wanted in the end. Whether or not you deserved it was another story altogether.

So when you did finally take that test you’d been waiting for and it had two pink lines across the readout, even though you already knew it, you were still excited. Over the moon.

Harry was out of his mind. He took off two days of work to hang out with you and “celebrate” as he called it. Which just entailed him waiting on you hand and foot and making you realize that he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. It was hard to regret everything that had gone down when Harry treated you like a Queen.

When you told your mom, Harry was with you. He insisted on being there. He was trying not to tell her before you did so you had to just spit it out and say it. Harry pulled your mom into his arms and kissed her on the top of her head the moment you got the words out, “I’m pregnant!”

Part of you thought there would be more shame around the whole thing but Harry seemed like a child full of joy. It made you ecstatic to be carrying his baby. He was thrilled and so you would be too. It was easy to feel like things were idyllic and sweet when Harry was so thrilled. It kind of rubbed off on you.

Four months after settling in the new house and two months after finding out you’d been knocked up you and Harry had a few people over for a small party. He’d begun on the garden and it was looking just darling so he wanted to have people over to show off the house a bit.

Harry was set up at the grill with a beer in hand while you were talking to the wife of one of his coworkers and plating sliced veggies and dip in the kitchen. Everyone but you had an alcoholic drink. You didn’t know if that would be obvious or not but Harry didn’t care if anyone else knew. You figured it was just a matter of time before he couldn’t keep his mouth shut anyway.

Everyone invited was someone Harry knew from work. You didn’t really have many friends and the ones you did, you weren’t so sure about having over. Paloma was nosey and disingenuous you felt, and she was still friends with Fae so you knew she’d be reporting back everything. Fae had been your closest friend before everything and ever since losing your job at the restaurant you lost touch with the ones you were closest with. That left you with very few people you felt you could trust other than your mother.

“I am in love with this kitchen,” Shelcin gushed before sipping her wine.

“It’s really nice. We love it here.”

The woman leaned back and peeked into the living room before stepping in closer to you, “Can I just… I want to say something and I hope it doesn’t come off as offensive but I can’t help but wonder how you two moved along this quickly. I mean I know he’s divorced now and you were with him during all that,” she paused and settled her hand on the granite counter, “But… you guys must have really gotten serious quickly. For him to just move on like that.”

You tried not to let the shock show on your face. You knew people knew, mostly, but to be asked about it so directly? You hadn’t been prepared.

Clearing your throat you looked Shelcin directly in the eyes, “Well, we’ve been together, technically, for over a year at this point. And it wasn’t an overnight thing. We know what we did was not good but we just… we fell in love. Wanted to be together.”

“Over a year. I didn’t realize it had been that long. I knew something about Harry getting a divorce and that he met you before the divorce was final. So you two…” she raised her glass along with her eyebrows, “Again… not trying to offend. I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer, but he left his wife for you? You came before any talk of divorce?”

Looking over your shoulder out the window to see Harry looking pleased as he spoke to two of the guys outside you looked back at the woman, “Yes. I’m the reason they got divorced.”

Shelcin leaned her hip into the counter and grinned, “I like you. I never met his ex, so don’t worry. I’m not taking sides. But I can see how much he loves you. That dinner we all went to last month? He couldn’t stop staring at you. It’s really sweet actually. I wish Ken looked at me like that.”

You felt like you could let your guard down suddenly. Her smile and reassurance felt nice. You’d have to get used to answering questions about it you supposed and she hadn’t been catty about it, at least.

“Yeah, he’s great. I feel lucky that he loves me so much because I love him like crazy.”

“I noticed you’re not drinking. Any reason in particular?”

You laughed and shook your head, “You are kind of nosy, aren’t you?”

The laugh that belted from her chest had you laughing harder. It felt good to talk about it and laugh. To not take it so seriously.

Shelcin nodded, “I am nosy. Pardon. It’s the Colombiana in me. If I start asking things that make you uncomfortable you can just ignore me or tell me to shut up. So… is that a question you want to answer?”

Biting your lip you lifted the plate of sliced veggies and motioned your head at her to follow you as you turned to step outside into the backyard. The two other women who were there with their husbands were sitting at the patio set chatting as you sat the plate down.

Turning back toward Shelcin you placed your hand on your hip and glanced at Harry before looking at her, “There is a reason. And right now only Harry and my mother know so don’t say anything.”

Her eyes widened as she leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You’re pregnant?”

You nodded as she moved away and she raised her glass up with a nod at you before taking another sip.

“Burgers are just about done, babe! Sit down! I’ll take care of the rest,” Harry pointed at you.

You had been nervous to have people over but it turned out you had a spectacular time. Shelcin kept you laughing and her prying questions made you uncomfortable but by the end of it all, you realized you didn’t need to be uncomfortable. What was done was done. Life is messy, as she kept saying. Not everyone needed to know everything but you felt like you could finally let go of some of your regrets. It felt freeing to talk about it with someone else.

Harry was with you at every appointment and as your tummy grew little by little he seemed to only get more attached to you and the baby. He called you at lunch every day while he was at work to see how you were feeling, he doted on you, made sure you were taking your vitamins and getting plenty of treats.

And he was kind of supercharged sexually as well. It was like putting a baby in you turned him into some kind of sex-obsessed fiend.

You loved that he found you so sexy. But there were days when you couldn’t imagine him sticking his penis inside of you. He never made you feel guilty about it but you could tell he was pent up because any time you gave him any inkling of feeling needy he was all over you. Some weeks you wanted it all the time, others not so much. Your hormones determined how you felt but Harry was just happy to take what you’d give him.

And this week you were horny. You’d called him the day before on his lunch break and he came home right away to take care of you. And right then, as he was working in the garden with his shirt off and his muscles gleaming from sweat, his lats looking extra strong as he bent at the waist to dig the trowel into the dirt you stepped outside with him and admired his fit body, the tattoos, his big hands…

He turned to look at you over his shoulder and smiled, “Hey baby. What’s up?”

Biting your lip you took another step closer and danced your fingers over his sweaty shoulder blades, “Just watching. You’re working so hard. Why don’t you come in for a bit? Take a break.”

Harry dropped the trowel and stood up, turned to face you, and looked you up and down, “All right. Whatever you want. Come on, baby,” he took your hand and led you to the door. You could see it on his face that he knew what you wanted.

When he tried to take a quick shower you nearly got on your knees and begged him to just take you to bed right then and there.

You ran your hands up to his shoulders and leaned in to kiss his pecks, “Don’t. I want you now.”

Harry laughed, “Baby, I’m all sweaty and stinky.”

You inhaled and (god you were insane or something) moaned, “You smell so good, Harry. I don’t know what it is but I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my entire life. I want to devour you right now.”

Harry had barely gotten you into bed, your panties pulled down when you pushed him to his back and tore his shorts and underwear off his legs. You wanted him in your mouth. You were going to cry if you didn’t get to taste him. The pungent, masculine scent of him had your mouth watering. Which was funny because you were finding so many scents you once loved, off-putting lately. So to be as turned on as you were by Harry’s sweat surprised you. But there was no time to think about it.

You gave him a good glob of your saliva and smoothed it over him as he tucked his hands behind his head and watched you with a smirk. But you wiped that smirk right off his face when you took him down your throat and began gagging around him. His eyes widened and he gurgled a moan as he pushed himself up just a bit to watch you.

His hands were on your face and at the back of your head as bobbed over him and drooled down his shaft. You’d never sucked him off like that before but there was something so enticing about him right then.

“Holy fuck, Y/n… shit…”

You gasped as you pulled off, your hand wrapped around his base, and grinned, “This big cock, Harry…” you dipped down and licked over his tip with your eyes on his, “You use it so well. Makes me feel so good. Got me pregnant with it…” you wrapped your lips over his crown and lowered again, feeling his length push into the back of your throat before you lifted off again, “Deserves all my devotion. Wanna suck it, and feel it, and have all over me, inside of me...”

You were probably delirious. Your hormones had been raging and you were having the nastiest thoughts all day about Harry. He was easy to fantasize about. Gorgeous and tall, kind and gentle… and then there were times when he fucked you into oblivion and you imagined all the filthy things you two had done…

Harry pulled you off of him when you started to go to town again, his words were breathy, “What’s gotten into you, baby? Act like you’ve never seen my dick before.”

You laughed and pulled your cotton, stretchy dress over your head and then your bra with it, tits bouncing out and Harry’s eyes flitting between your breasts and your face, “I’m so horny, Harry. It’s just my hormones,” you grinned as you straddled his lap and smoothed your palms over his chest, “And you are so fucking sexy and you were just out there in the garden, sweating with this big cock between your legs hidden under your shorts…” you gripped his shaft and pointed the tip right at your aching entrance (yes, you were already aching) before putting your weight over it to slide yourself down his length until you were both moaning together.

Sex while pregnant wasn’t that different at first, but as the months drew on and your tummy got bigger, things had to be modified. You were on top a lot and doggystyle was a go-to when you were too tired to ride him. But one of the biggest differences was how fast you’d come.

Shifting your hips back and forth you reveled in the feel of Harry’s whole cock lodged inside of you. He was so stiff and heavy, so thick… you would never get tired of how good he felt. But having him while you were pregnant and extra sensitive and emotional was kind of addicting.

His hands traced over your tummy and up to your tits before he reached down and planted his big palms on your ass, helping you slide forward and back. He began to thrust up, hitting that deep spot that always made you gasp, “Fuck, Harry!”

Your nerve endings were sizzling with need as you rocked over him harder and he drove into you from his spot below as gently as he could manage. He wanted to pound into you until you were crying, watch your pussy spread open for him as you squeezed your eyes closed but he had to take it easy. You were carrying his baby after all.

But that drove him wild. Seeing your belly swollen and your tits grow heavy was the hottest thing he’d seen. And he’d done that to you. Made his official claim on you. Anyone who saw you together recently knew what was up. You were his girl. He was the one who got to have you.

You felt the heat of your orgasm spread and spread as your pussy slid over him and Harry’s tip nudged through your walls and squished into your deepest spot. “Fuck, you coming, baby? Does that feel good?” He panted his words as he watched you drop your head back and you whined a wet moan into the room. Harry finished you off with his knees bent and his feet planted flat on the mattress as he rutted up into you, plunging in to let you feel all of him as you pulsed around his cock.

Harry watched your pretty tits bounce as he fucked into you and then felt his release course through his balls, up into his length, and pump inside of you in heavy, hot throbs.

When oxygen had returned to your lungs you looked down at his face. His half-lidded eyes, heaving chest, and parted lips with borders edged upward in a satisfied grin – handsome and all yours.

. . .

“I think this one is better. I like the strawberry more. Or should we just get both?” Harry asked as he held up the jar of preserves. You were both standing in an aisle at Target doing a little shopping.

You shrugged, “Whichever one is fine. We don’t need both, though. I like raspberry and strawberry. Get the strawberry if you like that one better.”

Harry pursed his lips and looked down at both jars, “Okay. Strawberry it is.”

“Dad? Y/n?”

You and Harry turned toward the familiar voice. You almost couldn’t believe you were looking directly at Fae at that moment. But she wasn’t looking at your face. She was staring at your obviously pregnant tummy with her mouth dropped open and wide eyes as she approached you both.

“Hi, Fae. How are you doing, honey,” Harry glanced at you and then looked at his daughter. It was clear that she’d made a shocking discovery based on the look on her face.

“Is this for real?” Finally, Fae’s eyes landed on yours before she looked at her dad.

“That she’s pregnant?” Harry replied. You were too stunned to speak as you grasped onto Harry’s arm and watched your ex-best friend scrutinize the scene.

“I- I can’t believe you’re pregnant. This is…” Fae turned to look behind herself and then back at you and then Harry, “How far along?”

Harry looked down at you and then at his daughter, “About five months.”

“And when were you going to tell me?”

You blinked your eyes and placed one of your hands on your tummy.

“Well, I guess we just haven’t really told all that many people yet,” Harry spoke softly.

“All that many people… Okay. So your daughter doesn’t get like first notice. Got it. Makes sense.” She paused as she shook her head and then tilted her head, eyes on you, “Are you gonna say anything at all?”

Swallowing the bile down your throat you squeezed Harry’s arm, “Um, it’s nice to see you, Fae.”

“It’s nice to see me? Is it really, Y/n? Because I’m not getting that vibe from either of you. It’s almost like you hoped I’d never know about this.”

“No. I- actually I’m happy to see you. I’ve missed you. It was just a surprise to see you.”

“Same. Quite surprised to see you both and to see you pregnant,” Fae looked at her dad, “Does mom know?”

Harry shook his head, “No. Like I said, not many know yet.”

She nodded, “Heard about the new house too. You’re both just living that sweet life, not a care in the world, yeah? Must be nice.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I know you’re upset about everything and there’s a lot to get through here but we are happy together. I’m sorry–“

Fae put her hand up, “I know you’re sorry, Dad. I don’t need to hear the spiel again. You two are happy and in love, and now you’re having a baby. How wonderful. Congrats,” she turned around and began to walk away.

“Fae. Come on! Don’t just leave like this,” Harry called after her but she didn’t stop until she was out of sight of both of you.

And just like that, the little happy, peaceful bubble you and Harry had crafted was burst. The reality wasn’t as sweet as you’d been pretending it was. Fae was hurt and you’d done that to her. The anger she had toward you was warranted. You still hoped that maybe one day she’d forgive you but the reminder of what you’d done to get where you were in that moment was heavy over you.

You couldn’t avoid reality forever.

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nestastits · 9 months ago

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You know Nesta really is HER.

She laughed at the children of the blessed.

She can see through Fae glamours and magic.

She told the human queens they were cowards.

She stole from the Cauldron.

She had the Cauldron, the most revered artifact of the fae that has the ability to create life and destroy everything by basically being the womb of the Mother, terrified of her to the point it went after anyone else but her.

She slapped her sister’s toxic fiancé in the face and told him he never deserved her anyway after he insulted her.

She scared off her baby sister’s toxic ex, told him off for his treatment of her sister, pointed her finger at him, and told him she’d rip his head off if he told anyone they were in spring.

She changed the entire trajectory of the books bc Sarah just couldn’t hate her

Sarah’s original plan was to have her with Lucien but the moment Nesta and Cassian saw each other it was a done deal and Sarah (basically the real life mother/cauldron) had to rewrite the books.

She did the math on how many ships the human lands would need in order to evacuate from the war.

She scared a death lord with her Made Sword

She can willed all three dread troves and has a special connection with them to the point of being able to portal them to her

She has a special connection to THE MOTHER. And a bargain with the Cauldron.

She’s been called a Death God, Kingslayer, Lady Death, Queen of Queens, Witch, Pillager of Death, Witch from Oorid, and Death Herself.

She is a Valkyrie and Oristian.

She encouraged some of the priestesses from the library (ones who have spent centuries in there without leaving) to join training by showing them there was nothing to fear.

She got a a usually disdainful blacksmith to smile with her inquisitiveness.

She marked the king with a death promise then beheaded him in the war when she got the chance. And held up his head in victory of her promise being acomplished.

She killed the first Kelpie seen in hundreds of years. Beheaded it and held it’s head in the same way.

She awoke a House and made it sentimental by befriending it with her magic.

She stabbed a man’s dick in the Blood Rite.

She led her team through the Blood Rite. Like any good General would do.

She held the line, giving up the chance of the win, so her found sisters could survive.

She spoke about becoming the leader of the first complete female fighting group in Prythian after five hundred years.

She had actual Death Gods speaking highly of her. Fearing her too.

The most powerful high lord in prythian feared her.

She unmade someone to avenge her mate. Her power stopped time when she unleashed it fully. She saved her sister, nephew, and brother-in-law all in the same morning after completing the blood rite. Gave up a fraction of her power for it, but made a bargain with the cauldron and spoke with the mother. Told her baby sister “I love you” for the first time, this was also the first time Nesta had ever said ily out loud to anyone. Decided that she wanted to have a mating ceremony. Hugged her brother-in-law after his mate and babe almost died even though they had some issues. Again all of this happened in the same morning.

She gave her Mask to an untrustworthy friend and by doing so saved both Prythian and Midgard. Perhaps other worlds and universes too.

She has infinite range👏👏👏

Please add anything that I left out! My girl has done so much I forget to list them all.

#acosf #acotar #acowar #pro nesta #pro nesta archeron #nesta was really hot for this #nesta archeron

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yuri-is-online · 8 months ago

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Ace being so down bad for Yuu is funny. I love to bully this ginger mtf.

Imagine this dude has the perfect plan for a date and successfully asks Yuu out. And Grim hears it and now wants to join, and because Grim is an unmovable object when it comes to food, he gets included.

Another is the classic “Hey Ace, want a date?” He hears it wrong and without thinking he just says “Yes” And Yuu gives him a date, the little fruit thingy.

Grim is laughing cuz he doesn’t want his henchman to date Ace, he can’t pay the Tuna tax.

But the others have to hold back Sebek from yelling it at the top of his lungs, cuz this crocodile is getting tired of these situations.

IMAGINE IN HIS DREAM YUU AND HIM ARE DATING AND YUU CALLS HIM SWEETHEART OR SMTH.

“Why was my henchman calling you sweetheart?”

“How about we stop talking for a little while?”

aceyuu, best worst kept secret of NRC, has left 3 dead and 1 injured tonight after local crocodile fae had an accidental discharge of his unique magic

"They deserved it." He is reported to have said at the scene. "Seriously, is no one else tired of this? This is absolutely disgraceful behavior for people Lord Malleus respects!"

"He's not wrong but he still shouldnta hit em that hard." An onlooker who requested to stay anonymous said. For NRC news, this is Octavinelle Resident C.

I think there's a chance Ace might be Heartsabyul's dorm leader in his dream. He mentions wanting to be once or twice, and he clearly wants to surpass Riddle (it's his way of showing respect), I wonder if Yuu would be in his dorm in his dream?

He's the Queen of Hearts now after all, and you're his lovely little king all dressed up and sat by his side to preside over the Unbirthday party. It's weird to see how... normal he is while talking to you. No power tripping, still a tease here and there but nothing as loudly in denial as what you're used to. He even winks at the dream you when he turns to try and eject you and Silver from his court.

"You've got this, sweetheart!" The dream Yuu cheers and the real you looks at the ground because it is suddenly just that much more interesting.

Grim is never going to let either of you live this down.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader

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another-random-paradise · 1 year ago

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Hello Child of Man! I have a request if it interests you.

What would the TWST boys (Riddle, Leona, Lilia, and Jade or Azul) give to reader to show their affection is honest? Like, it's their prized possession.

You write so well! Please continue. ♡ Thank youuuuu.

A Gift can speak a thousand words

Heyy, Thank you so much for the request, and I'm so sorry it took so long to write,, school has been a pain :') Thank you so much for the kind words and i hope you enjoy!!

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

What they would give reader to prove their affection is honest

Characters: Riddle, Leona, Lilia, Azul

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Riddle

Red roses from Heartslabyul's Rose Garden

-This might seem rather basic and almost thoughtless at first, but these roses truly hold his entire heart

-There is the factor that his mother most likely raised him very traditional and conservative, so he was taught to gift his lover flowers

-Also, this is probably his first relationship, and the people around him, as well as the internet, will have told him that red roses, the flowers of love, is a good gift.

-but there is so much more to it than just that

-Both heartslabyul and especially the red roses are very dear to him, after all, the red roses are a, if not the, symbol of the queen of hearts and her kingdom. He himself tries to be as similar to the queen of hearts as possible, heartslabyul practically his kingdom

-By gifting you these Hand picked roses, from the Heartslabyul garden, he, as the so-to-say queen of heartslabyul, is gifting you a part of the most important part of his kingdom, and by extension, a part of him

-the roses are, of course, hand picked with extreme care, it's to ensure that you will truly only get the best of the best, because in his eyes, you deserve even more than just perfection.

Leona

His dorm uniform jacket

-Another one that might seem basic and meaningless at first

-But once again, there's more to it!

-Kings are most easily recognised by their crowns. Since he isn't the firstborn, and therefor not king, he doesn't have a crown.. But at NRC, the Housewardens are recognized by their unique dorm uniform, it's his version of a crown, so to say.

-Also, most beast men, including lions, mark their territory through scent, similar to their animal counter parts.

-And since he usually skips classes and spends a majority of his time in his dorm, he's usually wearing it!.. well, was, until he gave it to you. It's his way to mark you without outright admitting it

-Being second in line, most of his kingdoms treasures and similar things, have always been given to his older brother, so with the few things that are his, that he considers precious, he's very territorial about. and that includes you, the love of his live.

-The beastmen will smell his scent, and almost all other students will most likely recognize the jacket, both resulting in them leaving you be. An absolute win in his book.

-Also, when a king marries his lover, he gifts them the crown of his kingdom, but he is no king and therefore has no crown, so instead he'll gift you his housewarden jacket as a sign that you rule alongside him

Lilia

a precious fae gem

-No matter how young Lilia try's to act, in the end he's still an old man

-He'd give a thousand year old gem, that still somehow looks perfect. Maybe it's embedded into a necklace, maybe a ring.

-If you can take it out of it's original casing, he'll definitely put it into your favorite type of jewelry!

-chances are, it has been in his family for generation, or it was a gift from someone dear to him during the war, like Baul or Meleanor. Either way, this gem is very dear to him, although not nearly as dear as you!

-Him giving you this gem, is his way of telling you how serious your relationship is to him, that he definitely plans to marry you one day, and, most importantly, that in his eyes, you're already a part of the little family he has build himself

-In fact, chances are, that he gave you this gem after he saw you acting particularly like a parent caring towards silver, it just proofed how perfectly you fit in!

-He would have used it as part of your engagement ring, but he wants that to perfectly suit your taste. Also, that means it'll eventually be replaced by a marriage band, and he wants you to be able to wear the gem even after marriage, till the rest of your days.

Azul

Master key

-Azul values his privacy. A lot.

-As a child, he could seemingly never get away from his bullies, and even now, when he gets overwhelmed or reminded of his trauma, he sometimes feels helpless. So, chances are he secured a small room where he could get away, somewhere even the twins don't have access to.

-But you? you're the only exception. It seems that no matter what, you always manage to calm him down, he doesn't understand why or how, but you do. It almost scares him.

-For him to give you this, you'd also have to be in a relationship for quite a while, at least around a year. Bullying causes insecurities, and insecurities can cause quite the trust issues.

-He'd be so nervous about giving you it. What if it's a mistake? What if you think it's weird? But he loves you enough to pull through. He try's to play it cool. He Fails.

-Now you often surprise him at work, or specifically seek him out when you know he's upset. It flusters him every time, but he has yet to regret his decision :) He never will, he is heels over head in love with you

A piece of his moms jewlery

-This was more of a side thought, but i found it cute and wanted to expand a bit on it.

-Azul is an absolute mamas boy in my eyes, she made sure he grew up to be a gentleman once he grows up

-So, when he visits home, he most likely tells her about you!

-And she, in true motherly nature, is just like "How sweet, my baby is in love! Oh, how about you bring them back a gift! Do they like jewelry?"

-And suddenly he comes back with a piece of her jewelry, soon to be yours. He's just happy she seems to approve of you :)

-A blushing, nervous wreck, as he gives it to you and explains the reason for it

-Every time he sees you wearing it after that, he just starts stuttering while turning red. The other members of the board game club are very confused, they know you two are dating, but that doesn't explain why he turned into a tomato..oh hey, is that some new jewelry, prefect?

Fried my brain trying to find the perfect things haha, Lilia was definitely the hardest, but very fun to write nonetheless!

Feedback is welcomed, just be kind! Hope you all have an amazing day!

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silverflameataraxia · 3 months ago

Text

"Nesta should have done more for her sisters!"

Nesta has done more than enough for her sisters. It's not that she doesn't do enough for them; it's that what she has done for them, they either don't know about or it's glossed over in favor of Nesta "failing" Feyre by "letting" her hunt.

Nesta spent the first twelve years of her life protecting her sisters from physical and emotional abuse, as well as protecting them from being groomed by their mother to seduce older men. Nesta spent the eight years they were in poverty doing the cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, and chopping the wood, all of which kept her sisters alive and warm with their basic necessities met. Nesta was willing to marry Tomas or sell her body on the street if it meant keeping Elain fed.

Nesta protected Elain when Tamlin came barging in to collect Feyre for murdering one of his sentries. Nesta was willing to sacrifice her life to try and rescue Feyre from Prythian. Nesta encouraged Feyre to return to Tamlin, where she was loved, valued, and protected. Nesta was willing to get Elain to safety if things in Prythian went south.

Nesta was willing to let Feyre and the IC meet with the human queens in her home, even though it would label her a Fae sympathizer which could have gotten her killed. Nesta encouraged the human queens to give Feyre their half of the Book of Breathings. Nesta was willing to go to Prythian if that's what Elain wanted.

Nesta pushed her own trauma aside to take care of Elain after they were turned High Fae against their will. Nesta protected Elain from Feyre when Feyre wanted to use them during the war. Nesta volunteered to go to the High Lord's meetings to both help Feyre and to encourage them to help the humans beneath the wall. Nesta slapped Greyson when he was being a POS to Elain. Nesta went from war tent to war tent to be used by Feyre and the IC as a warning bell for when the Cauldron was in use. Nesta scried for the Cauldron to help Feyre and the IC locate Hybern's armies. Nesta was willing to sacrifice her life to lure the King of Hybern away so Feyre could reach the Cauldron.

Nesta scried and found the Dread Trove to protect Elain from having to do it. Nesta was the only one to tell Feyre the truth about her pregnancy. Nesta sacrificed her powers to save Feyre's life.

The only thing Nesta hasn't done for her sisters is hunt, but since she was clearly the one doing the cooking (even though she's never recognized in canon for doing it), she deserves just as much credit as Feyre for keeping their family alive.

#acotar #nesta stan #antifeyre #elain archeron #prythian #acomaf #nesta is a boss #acowar #nesta archeron #acosf #pro nesta #nesta #nesta acotar #nesta acosf #nesta deserves better #nesta supremacy #free nesta archeron

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lamemaster · 6 months ago

Text

A Secret Garden

Request: me (hehe)

Pairings: Thranduil x Illyrian reader

Genre: fluff and feels

Summary: The forests of Greenwood were brimming with fae, imps, valkyries, Illyrians, and whatever those horses with horns on their heads were called.

AN: I think Greenwood exists out there somewhere hidden from canon. That's where Maglor lives, probably. Thranduil deserves a baddie. I don't make the rules.

Next up- Zombie Maedhros Fall trope event list

Contrary to the usual, casual belief, Legolas’ mother is very much alive and thriving within the halls of Greenwood the Great.

And yes, it is Greenwood the Great. Mirkwood was merely a convenient front. A grim veil to dissuade would-be intruders.

That includes the so-called "statue of the Queen," which, for the record, looks nothing like you. Truly, Thranduil outdid himself in selecting the most unlike-you statue and crafting the wildest tale of gems and tragic loss.

Your husband, the King of Greenwood, was a mastermind. A ruler so adept that his kingdom flourished for millennia without enchanted rings or the guidance of the Valar. His conniving brooding ensured that his people prospered in secret, while the world saw only a shadowed, forbidding forest.

As for where the real Greenwood the Great lingered during those turbulent times? That remains a mystery. Its shifting location shall not be revealed here.

This tale, however, concerns you, the Queen of Greenwood the Great. Mirkwood, for all its legends, lacks a queen. It possesses only the image of a bitter, widowed king clinging to a fading world and a son growing restless with time.

Thranduil was a vessel of theatrics and drama.

You, on the other hand, were content in your hidden kingdom. Three thousand years of seclusion had yet to yield a Turin or a Maeglin to wreck your haven, and for that, you counted yourself fortunate.

As for what you are? Most guesses would not quite be accurate. Not quite an elf, in the not-quite-elven kingdom of your husband.

The forests of Greenwood were brimming with fae, imps, valkyries, Illyrians, and whatever those horses with horns on their heads were called.

You were one of them. Or, more accurately, an amalgamation of many. Yet the great, leathery wings at your back made it clear that your Illyrian ancestry dominated while the rest of your gene remained suppressed only to peek upon close inspection.

And how, you ask, did a lowly bastard with wings become the Queen of Greenwood the Great?

That tale begins long ago.

Thranduil had been lost for days, his once-pristine robes torn and muddied, his sword arm aching from constant readiness.

The air of the forest felt different here, heavier, charged with an unfamiliar magic that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He had strayed far from the borders of his father’s palace, lured into unknown territory by the magnificent silver fawn.

They were like nothing he had ever seen beasts in the shape of men, with great bat-like wings that cast shadows over the forest floor. Runes glowed faintly across their arms, swirling and shifting like living things, their meaning lost to him.

They didn’t kill him outright. Instead, they toyed with him, driving him deeper into the woods, their eerie laughter echoing around him like the rustle of dead leaves. Every so often, one would swoop low, slashing at him with claws or the sharp edges of their wings, drawing blood but never a fatal blow.

Thranduil’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled through the dense undergrowth, his usually keen senses dulled by exhaustion.

That was when he found you or, rather, when he collided into you.

One moment, he was running, heart hammering in his chest, the laughter of his pursuers closing in. The next, he crashed into something-someone, so abruptly that the force sent him sprawling to the ground.

Disoriented, he scrambled to his feet, sword raised, his golden hair falling in disheveled strands around his face.

You stood there, unmoving, watching him with a curious tilt of your head. Your wings extended slightly behind you, the moonlight falling gently onto them.

Not unlike his hunters, Runes spiraled faintly along your arms. With broad shoulders and visible strength of muscle lining your body, you were what he assumed to be an Illyrian.

The Illyrians were brutish fighters. An army with no leader. Children of the night. No one in Greenwood had seen them. Most were reluctant to seek the bunch that were rumored to make a stew out of anything and everything.

“What are you doing in Illyrian woods, elf?” Your voice was calm, almost bemused, though your eyes betrayed a hint of irritation.

Before Thranduil could respond, the sound of wings beating the air filled the clearing. His hunters emerged from the shadows, circling above. They slowed at the sight of you, their jeers fading into uncertain murmurs.

One of them dropped to the ground, his cruel grin faltering as he addressed you. “Captain,” he sneered, though his tone carried a note of wariness. “We didn’t realize you were… entertaining guests.”

Your wings flared slightly, and the runes on your arms pulsed in response. “He is no guest,” you replied coolly, stepping forward. “But nor is he your prey.”

The hunter hesitated, his confidence waning under your sharp gaze. “We were only—”

“Leave,” you commanded, your voice carrying a weight that stilled the air.

The hunter glanced between you and Thranduil, clearly torn between defiance and self-preservation. With a final sneer, he launched himself into the air, the rest of the group following in his wake. Their shadows vanished into the trees, leaving behind an uneasy silence.

Thranduil stared at you, his sword still raised, his mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. “Who are you?” he demanded, though his voice cracked at the most unfortunate pause.

You turned to him, your expression unreadable. “I might ask you the same question, elf.”

Thranduil hesitated before he answered “I am Thranduil, prince of Greenwood.”

Your lips curved into the faintest smile. “A long way from home, aren’t you?”

Before he could reply, you turned and began walking deeper into the forest, your wings folding neatly against your back. Thranduil stood rooted to the spot for a moment, torn between suspicion and exhaustion. Then with a quiet sigh, he followed you, hoping to escape the fate of becoming a hearty meal.

Legolas, as many assumed, was not your only child. He was, in fact, your youngest, the cherished baby of your family, born long after the triplets.

He took after Thranduil in nearly every way, so much so that his presence alone was acceptable in the halls of Mirkwood. The only one to be elven enough for Middle Earth.

Your other children, however, were a different story.

The triplets, older and undeniably yours, had delicate, protruding wings like yours—proof that their father’s genetics had long since lost the battle.

The children however did not fail to possess their father’s dramatic flair and liking for chaos.

Now seated with your bickering triplets and sullen eldest you await your husband and son to return to your world. Away from the chaos of the world that was nothing but an illusion.

With a prayer sent to the spirits, you try your best to spare the dinner from the hands of your wild family.

#thranduil x wife #thranduil x reader #illyrian reader #canon divergence #lord of the rings #fluff #competent reader and damsel Thranduil #fall event #🍂🍂🍂

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arkhammaid · 1 year ago

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE WORDSMITH.

fandom. formula one

pairing. charles leclerc x author fem!reader (fc: none)

about. bestseller author genevieve dedicates her newest book to a special person. the internet tries to find out who it is

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. who doesn't dream about being a world famous author?

GENEVIEVE_UPDATES

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 10'883 others

genevieve_updates The dedication in the newest Bestseller 'When We Were Wallflowers', by @/genevieve. For the first time in her career she mentiones a partner, calling him 'my love' and surprisingly also 'mon coeur'. Who could her beau be?

user NO MOTHER IS NO LONGER SINGLE

⤷ user my life is officially over...

user HE'S THE REASON WHY WE HAVE THE BEST ROMANCE BOOK OF THE DECADE THANK YOU DAD

⤷ user parents fr 🙏🙏🙏

user "our story now forever immortal and never forgotten" AND WHAT IF I CRY

user don't know if i should cry tears from sadness that mom is taken or happiness that mom is taken

⤷ user at least he makes her happy (delulu)

⤷ user you're so right, tears of happiness then

user THE F1 X GENEVIEVE CROSSOVER IS HAPPENING??

⤷ user SO I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED PIERRE IN THE LIKES

⤷ user charles as well???

⤷ user hello wtf is happening SINCE WHEN DO THEY READ??

user "YOUR WORDSMITH"???? am i the only one loosing my mind over this

⤷ user no. i just haven't recovered yet

GENEVIEVE

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, haileybieber and 503'002 others

genevieve My summer was filled with flowers and love, so much love. It has given me enough inspiration to write yet another romance book, even if I promised to return to my beloved fantasy. Yet when the heart calls... who am I to refuse? 'Reverie, Lost in your Love' will be published in November '24!

user HOLY SHIT WE'RE GETTING FED FR

user SHE NAMED HER NEW BOOK REVERIE I CAN NOT

⤷ user reverie: a state of being pleasantly lost in your thoughts, almost dreaming

⤷ user mom is big brained fr "lost in your love"? yes, yes i will be

haileybieber I will be (im)patiently waiting, as always 💗

⤷ genevieve And I will be sending you the first draft, as always

⤷ user their friendship is so dear to me 🥹🥹

⤷ user icons supporting icons i fear

⤷ user auntie hailey better drop some spoilers!!!

zendaya We're getting another romance by our queen! Rejoice!!

⤷ user DAYA IS LIKE US FR

⤷ user WEWOOO SHE READS GENEVIEVE

user i just know the cover will be serving cunt (in the most beautiful flowers)

user REVERIE REVERIE REVERIE

user only four months left... only four months left......

pierregasly super liked by pierre gasly

⤷ user why is he so unserious 😭

⤷ user "super liked" goddamn we're finally reaching the part where he will rate posts he likes

CHARLES_LECLERC

liked by pierregasly, andferrari007, arthur_leclerc and 1'032'883 others

charles_leclerc Nothing better than summer, sun, beach and a good book in my hands. And of course good company 😉

user the tan 🫠🫠

user IS THAT A GENEVIEVE BOOK??

⤷ user oh my god you're right

⤷ user and it's one of her fantasy ones, from her fae series 👀

⤷ user charles has taste

user first he's in her likes and now he's reading her books... how do we tell him

⤷ user hear me out, genevieve and charles *gets shot*

⤷ user KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, MOM DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN HIM

⤷ user i trust in mom and i trust that she wouldn't fall for a vroom vroom man

pierregasly you already finished the other books?

⤷ charles_leclerc Breezed through them 😆

⤷ arthur_leclerc He's waiting for November

⤷ pierregasly aren't we all?

user the filter is back..

⤷ user the filter never left

GENEVIEVE

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, gigihadid and 3'029'746 others

genevieve "J'adore ton sourire, ma belle." I remember hearing these words for the first time, I remember his own smile he gave me back then, and I just knew, I love him. Thank you, Charlie, mon coeur, for standing by my side, for being my inspiration, my defender against the cursed writer's block. Your passion inspires me to write even more, so I'm proud to announce once again, another romance book. 'Winterbliss and Midnightkiss' will be available in March '25.

charles_leclerc Tu es incroyable, ma belle ❤️

⤷ genevieve Right back at you, my champion

comments have been limited

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc smau #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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beloveds-embrace · 23 days ago

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(elys anon) gonna try my hand at something. Ignore if too cringe!!!!!

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

She hears of you before she sees of you.

Rumors travel fast you see, with halls like these; the walls have ears, and the windows are simply another pair of eyes for the court. They call you prey, in the same sweet mocking way all fae do. You have many names she thinks with silent apathy and an even more silent curiosity—Pretender, Little Queen, The Court's plaything—her people whisper of you, mock of you.

"What a joke." They'd giggle in the same sickening way all fae do. "Isn't that right your majesty?"

She hums, non committal, ever neutral. Ice and steel her cosmetics and apathy draping over her words like a shawl. "I suppose." But her true feelings are far from that.

They say you're weak. That you're pathetic. She however, sees something else.

You are strong. She thinks, unlike everyone else. Even your own husbands who look at her with adoration perhaps. Yes, the walls hear of gossips and more, and the windows brings light to even the most greatest secrets—such is the way of the fae, but you see, she is a firm believer of actions being more louder than words. It is how she's kept her own kingdom alive and running for this long, and so—she sees you for what you are.

The hardest worker there was in those castle walls—the smartest person in your own kingdom perhaps.

She's seen the results of your endless labor you see, how much that kingdom has flourished because of your effort, of how beautiful your kingdom has become.

Yes, your kingdom. Not that man (who she refuses to call by name too appalled at how he and his men treated you), or even the queen.

Yours, a mere human. The softest thing there was in the court, the weakest there was in a room full of the inhuman.

But still, still, it is rightfully yours and even the Forest creatures know. The wretched omen of death, the mischievous whisps, and perhaps even more—all of whom were Mother Nature's most cherished children whom seemed to all but adore you, and how correct they are to be she thinks. Mother nature may be fickle and cruel but she is not a fool, and neither are her children it seems.

She is of the same opinion.

That is why when the day arrives she is to grace your kingdom and finally sweeps past her greetings with the Queen and the men, she passes by them to greet you—who's head is hung low (what a travesty they have reduced you in, you were the one who deserved to hold her head high. Not them), and curtsies before you ignoring the scandalous gasps around her.

The sounds draw your attention, as you lift your head and look at her and—She smiles as softly as she can (because humans are soft, and you are human regardless of how you dress yourself. That is fine she thinks, she likes honest and good things. You are one of them, and therefore the deceit they have forced you to hide in is something she wants you to throw away when she is around.), and gingerly holds your hand up for her to kiss—much like those human stories the court whispers you so dearly adore.

"It is most pleasant to meet you at last, your majesty []"

THIS IS SOO GOODDD ELYS ANON I CANT THANK YOU ENOUGH 😩 an absolute masterpiece istg you gotta make a writing blog now pls 😩 <333 i hope you don’t mind me adding this and basically having it escape me 🙂‍↕️😭

Your name is soft on her tongue. The only name she bothers to speak. Not theirs.

You blink, startled, your lips parted slightly in confusion, and in the space between that breath- she sees it. The glimmer of what once was: the queen who stood alone in a foreign court, wrapped in fae glamours and political silk, holding up a kingdom with hands cracked from too much ink, too many late nights, too many broken promises. A queen no one ever crowned aloud but who ruled all the same.

They tried to grind you down to nothing, she thinks. Chipped at you until even you forgot how tall you stood.

And still, you remain; a little softer, perhaps. A little more quiet. But still, you remain, a solitary tree withstanding hail and storm/

Your hands are still stained with the ink that built this court. Your eyes still carry the weight of every lie you’ve had to wear. And your spine- gods, your spine, decorated in bones and gold and snakes- is still straight enough to shame kings, and she hopes your joined husbands are the most ashamed.

You have been robbed of everything except your dignity. So she will not rob you of that, too.

Thus, it continues quietly, like all dangerous things do; with glances and silence and gifts too carefully chosen to be mere coincidence.

“Is this… for me?” you ask one morning, holding the delicate glass vial up to the light. The honey inside shimmers like starlight- amber and strange, scented with something that doesn’t belong to this land.

Her voice is calm as ever. “It reminded me of you.”

You blink at her, confused. “Sticky?” you try to joke, your smile dry, unsure why she cares for you so- why she seeks out your company above everyone else’s. “Hard to clean up if spilled?”

Her lips curl, small and secret, a moment just between and for the two of you. “Rare. Sweet. Difficult to forget.”

It’s in the spiral-carved bookmark that appears in your book next- your favorite book, though you never told anyone it was.

You lift it from the pages with a furrowed brow. “…This wasn’t here before.”

“I thought it might suit you,” she murmurs from where she stands at your window, pretending not to watch the way your lips part in surprise. “You always lose your place when you fall asleep reading.”

It’s you, who still sits at the same desk, fingers stained with ink, lips pursed in thought as you organize a council that will never truly thank you for it.

It’s you, who walks through the gardens cloaked in styles you no longer believe in, trailing behind the court with that same tired smile, always five steps behind your husbands- no longer quite queen, not quite dismissed.

And yet…

She is always near.

She watches you the way others watch constellations: in awe, in silence, with a kind of reverence that borders on worship. She’s not obvious about it- not as obvious as the others might be, not as obvious as the first day she came to this court and only held disgust for your husbands. Her admiration is laced in frost, dignified and distant. But it’s there.

Gods, it’s there.

She never speaks cruelly to you. Never jokes about your soft hands or your mortal sleepiness. Never calls you “Little Queen” the way the others do, sharp with mockery and disrespect.

“Do you ever tire of it?” she asks you once, her voice like glacial water, after you had to watch another meeting go by without a lick of care being given to your opinion. “Being here. With them.”

You hesitate, glancing down at the scrolls in your lap. “I tire of not knowing where I stand,” you say softly. “But I’ve been tired longer than I’ve been anything else.”

She doesn’t smile. Not then. Just watches you for a long, quiet moment. “They don’t see you,” she says finally. “Not properly. They don’t server you.”

You laugh, and for one it’s not the sound of sweet, tinkling bells heralding joy- but a broken sound, early morning blue skies and rain pattering on a window. “Do you?”

“Yes,” she says. Simply. Without pause, without even needing to think about it.

You think she means it in that polite way that nobles do- acknowledgement, nothing more, even though your heart beats so fast the remainder of the day everyone keeps sneaking you confused, nervous glances.

But you don’t see the way her fingers curl into her silks every time you laugh too brightly. You don’t see the way her throat bobs when your knuckles brush hers reaching for the same document. You don’t see how rigid her shoulders go when you flinch after someone calls you the human consort again, like your existence is a footnote.

You don’t know that she’s dreaming of you, either.

That she lies awake and wonders what your voice would sound like in bed, sleepy and real. That she thinks of your mouth on a teacup and wishes it were her instead. That she remembers, too clearly, the way you sighed once, just once, when her hand lingered too long at your back.

You don’t know that her guards are worried. That her advisors whisper of distraction. That a visiting noble once dared to touch your arm and she, without blinking, laced frost through the veins of his wrist.

You are just… confused.

You notice her kindness, and you thank her with a smile- but you don’t ask why she always stands between you and the cold; you don’t ask why her eyes find you first in every room; you don’t ask why she always smells like the sea wind, like distance and salt and something wild coming closer- you just thank her with too-human softness and bow lower than you should.

“Your Majesty.” You say whenever you pass her. Too formal and grateful for basic kindness..

“Please,” she sighs, and the ocean stills and watches the moon- hushed and yearning. “You can call me by my name.”

You blink. “Are we… that close?”

She looks at you then, and there is a sea-storm in her gaze, though you don’t feel afraid at all.

“I would burn the distance between us to ash if it meant you would see what I see.”

You say nothing. You think it’s fae poetry. A courtesy. You do not yet know her like she knows you, surely she doesn’t mean those words when no one here likes you-

And still- still-

She watches, and she wants, and oh, she thinks:

If she ever lets me love her, I will never let her forget what she is.

Not prey, and certainly not burrowed. Beloved.

And your husbands- oh, your poor, foolish husbands- they laugh at first.

“She’s playing the game.” Simon says, arms crossed, voice clipped.

“She’s being diplomatic- even if’s not needed.” Johnny agrees, too loud.

“She’s curious,” Kyle adds, with that forced little shrug, and John nods.

“Humans are a novelty.”

But their confidence begins to crack when she begins to show you off; at festivals, she walks with your arm in hers instead of their; in court, she praises your rulings before the council, cutting off nobles who try to talk over you.

At feasts, she pours your wine before her own.

“I never knew you liked rosewater.” You murmur, blinking at the glass, a happy little smile curling your lips.

“I didn’t,” she says, eyes steady and hands steady. “But you do.”

In the end, it shouldn’t be surprising when the maids sent to wake you doesn’t find you in bed. She searches and searches, and they are growing alarmed and have informed the guards who have gone to inform your husbands-

And then her maids finds you asleep in her bed, in her arms, and your flimsy nightgown’s ridden up enough they can all see the bite marks littering your inner thighs and your neck.

#noona.asks #noona.writes #elys anon

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axie-lot · 16 days ago

Text

My dear general.

Characters: Lilia Vanrouge

Warning: Male characters, comfort, spoiler,Enemies to Lovers? Violence, mentions of death.

Theme: Fluffy

This work was originally written by me in Portuguese, and I translated it using Google Translator, so I apologize for any translation errors

Summary: Two generations of opposing armies, sworn enemies who fought violent battles,could they become something more?

Hey my dear ones, it's been a while! Sorry for my absence, but I’m back… though I won’t be able to keep a regular pace. But I’ll do my best… Just giving a heads-up, I’m going to take a break from the HSR and Genshin stories to focus on other things I enjoy.

[Masterlist]

A long time ago… in a dark era, when the great and famous war between humans and fae was still raging, where bloody conflicts were common, and it was routine to see the bodies of soldiers who had sadly lost their lives to that damned war lying abandoned in the vastness of the forest—many of them never receiving the dignified burials they deserved.

And in the center of this bloody war, two great generals stood out. Lilia Vanrouge, the feared fae general, known for his strictness and incredible combat skills, had even earned the trust of the fae queen herself. Many soldiers said that at that time, he was so ruthless on the battlefield that they compared him to the wind—so fast that many enemies who died by his hand never even knew what had hit them.

On the human side, there was [Name], the magicless general. Even without magic, he became a powerful general who could kill magic users with ease. He was a cold man, even with his own troops, always keeping his distance—not out of arrogance, but because [Name] was born with the inability to recognize faces. For him, in those times, that was a blessing in disguise. It kept him from forming bonds with the men under his command, sparing him the pain of losing them.

Now, the first time these two met was on a dark night. A night when [Name] decided to patrol alone, as he couldn't sleep. Instead of staying in his tent, he chose to walk through the forest, hoping that the fresh air would bring sleep. Before leaving, he told his men it was just a routine patrol—a simple excuse so no one would follow him or question why he was leaving so late.

So, the young general started walking through the vast forest, guided only by darkness and the rare silence that filled the night. Not a single animal sound, not even the rustling of leaves—absolutely no noise. It was as if the entire forest was holding its breath. For the first time in a long while, he was able to enjoy a moment without the echo of screams, without the metallic clash of swords haunting his mind.

But even in that almost comforting silence, [Name] never fully let down his guard. His instincts, shaped by years of battle, kept him sharp. He walked deeper and deeper into the forest. Everything was calm... until something shattered that silence—

A whistle...

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. He barely had time to understand what was happening, only felt a gust slicing through the air toward him. Instinctively, his hand reached for his sword. In a swift motion, he raised the blade to block the attack. The impact was incredibly strong, pushing him back several steps, almost knocking him down.

Before he could even see the enemy’s face, a second attack came—just as fast and just as strong as the first. He threw himself to the side at the last second, feeling the wind of the blow graze past him. Without thinking twice, he backed off, putting some distance between them. He needed air. He needed to think. This wasn’t going to be easy.

With a safe distance now between them, he was finally able to look at his attacker. His eyes locked onto the mask—one of those classic masks worn by fae soldiers. It reminded him of the terrifying stories told to him as a child by the people who had raised him.

But something caught his attention.

A few strands of hair escaped the hood, swaying in the wind. Black… with a red undertone. His eyes widened.

It couldn’t be.

Only one fae had that unmistakable hair. Not just any soldier—no. Not even just any general. The general. The infamous Lilia Vanrouge.

Was it really too much to ask for one peaceful moment?

Once again, Lilia dashed forward like the wind. But this time, [Name] was ready. He saw the attack coming and quickly raised his sword to block it. It wasn’t easy—his arms trembled under the force of the strike—but he managed to hold his ground.

Taking advantage of the opening, [Name] counterattacked. The fae general dodged with impressive agility, as if he had anticipated the move. Even so, [Name] didn’t back down. He pressed forward, focused, eyes never leaving his opponent.

This time, his strike broke through the defense. The blade struck the enemy’s face—but only managed to hit the mask, not deeply enough to wound.

A sharp crack echoed as the mask split in two, falling to the ground in pieces. And then he saw it—for the first time—the face behind the legend. The true face of the fae general.

[Name] froze. For a moment, everything around him seemed to go silent. Time itself felt like it stopped.

Because, for the first time in his entire life... he recognized someone’s face.

[Name] stared at the now-exposed face of the fae general, unable to move, savoring—for the very first time—the feeling of seeing someone clearly.

He noticed the strikingly young appearance of the fae’s face, and his eyes—an unusual color he couldn’t quite place, but beautiful nonetheless. But even with that youthful look, he understood.

Behind that almost innocent appearance, there was something dark. A cold, merciless expression—hard as stone.

It was the kind of look that could make an army hesitate. A look that didn’t need words to be threatening.

But in that very moment, as he was taking in the sight of that face, he couldn’t understand why he was able to recognize it—especially because it belonged to his enemy...

The trance was shattered by hurried footsteps echoing through the vast forest.

“General [Name]! We need you!”

The voice pulled him back to reality. He turned quickly toward the approaching steps, and in the distance, he could see the silhouettes of his men. Then he looked back at Lilia. Their eyes met for just a few seconds—just long enough.

And then, for the first time during that whole battle, the fae’s voice broke the silence.

“Not bad, human... but it seems our fight must end here. I do hope we meet again... to finish it.”

And right after he spoke, he vanished before [Name]’s eyes, just as swiftly as he had appeared.

After that first encounter, they fought many more battles, becoming sworn enemies. The duels they had over the years became legendary—feared even by the most experienced soldiers. Every blow was precise, every wound brutal, every scar a lasting memory etched into their bodies...

But something curious always happened during those fights. Even when one of them was wounded badly enough for the other to land a killing strike—even when the opportunity was right there—the final blow never came.

Back then, it was a mystery. No one understood why it happened. Only years later would the two of them begin to understand the reason.

This went on for a long time—until one day, General [Name] stopped appearing on the battlefield.

Lilia pretended not to care. Of course he wasn’t looking for that human every time he faced the enemy… right?

Of course he wasn’t scanning the faces of the fallen, hoping that the general’s familiar face wasn’t among them… He definitely didn’t do that...

Then finally, he learned what had happened to the human general.

Lilia was near a group of fae soldiers when he overheard a rumor—that the human general had been exiled for treason. They said he had refused to execute a young captured fae. A gesture of mercy… or weakness, depending on who was telling the story.

That news hit Lilia hard.

He was stunned by [Name]’s decision—to spare the life of a young enemy. But at the same time... he was relieved. Relieved that [Name] was still alive.

Lilia no longer fought alongside his former rival. The war carried on—colder and more merciless than ever. And then... came the tragedy.

Princess Maleanor Draconia was killed at the hands of humans. Lilia was there. He saw it all. Not through reports or whispers—he witnessed, firsthand, the final breaths of the princess he loved so dearly.

Blinded by the pain of his loss, he didn’t say a word when the Senate unjustly accused him of negligence and failure in his duties as Royal Guard. He didn’t argue, didn’t try to defend himself. He just accepted it. And he resigned from his title as General without resistance.

After that, the war didn’t last much longer. Fate, in all its twisted humor, truly was a divine comedy. The two most feared generals, who had once stood on opposite sides of countless battlefields, ended up sharing a similar fate—both seen as traitors by their own people.

Years passed since the war ended. And unlike most humans, [Name] did not age. At first, he tried to understand. Looked for answers in books, in forgotten magic. But none came.

With time, he simply accepted it.

Maybe it was a punishment—the price for all the lives he had taken, for the choices made on the battlefield. An eternal reminder of everything he had lived through.

Eventually, he left it all behind. He distanced himself from the cities, from the armies, from everyone that reminded him of his past. He also couldn’t bear the pain of losing others to time while he himself remained unchanged—forever young.

He chose a life of solitude, in a small cabin hidden deep within the heart of a forest. A quiet clearing, surrounded by ancient trees and silence.

Because, after all he had been through, maybe—just maybe—he deserved a little peace.

And so he lived in that cabin, day after day, until the concept of time itself began to slip away. He had no idea how long he’d been alone… Years? Decades? Centuries? He truly didn’t know. And to be honest… he didn’t really care.

Time had become irrelevant to him.

He had always lived alone, after all. Direction meant nothing now. He survived by hunting, fishing, and tending to a small garden he cultivated with his own hands. It was simple. Peaceful.

Far from the wars, the pain, the memories. All of it now felt as distant as a life that no longer belonged to him.

But deep down, something still lingered— The memory of that fae general… The only person whose face he had ever been able to recognize.

And sometimes, when doing chores or repairing something, his mind would drift back to the past. To the battles, to that face. And he would wonder... Was he still alive? And if so… how was he? Did he still remember him?

But he would always push those thoughts aside. And carry on with his tasks.

That memory stayed buried in the depths of his mind. And he simply... kept living.

Until that morning.

It seemed like any other morning. The sun had just begun to rise, and [Name] stepped outside to tend to his small garden, like he always did. But this time… something felt off.

A strange sensation crept up his spine— He was being watched.

At first, he tried to ignore it. Maybe it was just his imagination. But the feeling only grew stronger. His instincts, sharpened by years of war, flared to life. He straightened, eyes scanning the edge of the clearing— And then… he saw him.

Lilia Vanrouge.

That familiar face. A face he never thought he'd see again. He looked… different. And yet, somehow, exactly the same. Once cold and ruthless, his expression now carried a serenity, a quietness, that felt almost… peaceful.

Without a word, the fae approached— Casually, like an old friend stopping by for a visit. He passed [Name] with a small, knowing smile and walked straight into the cabin.

[Name] stood frozen, wondering if he was still dreaming, stuck in some strange memory. But reality snapped back when he saw Lilia flop down on the old sofa like he owned the place. He patted the seat beside him and spoke in that teasing, sing-song tone of his:

— “Frufru~~~~~ It's been so long~, you've changed, hmm? Come on now… sit with me. We have so much to catch up on.”

From former enemies… to something entirely different.

After that unexpected reunion, Lilia began visiting more often. At first, he’d show up now and then, unannounced—as was his style. But over time, those visits became a regular thing. Daily, even.

And [Name] didn’t mind. In fact… he found himself waiting for them.

Every time Lilia appeared at the cabin door, smirking with some wild story to tell, he was welcomed with a calm silence. And they’d stay like that for hours. Lilia, always talking—laughing, rambling about his fae youth, gossiping about old comrades, recounting adventures through forgotten forests. And [Name], listening quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Sometimes, he’d throw in a dry remark that made Lilia burst into laughter. It became their rhythm.

A strange little routine. But a comforting one.

Those sweet visits became the highlight of both their days.

Even if neither of them said it out loud— It was obvious.

They liked having each other around.

It couldn’t be denied that the two had grown very attached to each other, and as time passed, their friendship started to turn into something more. Neither of them knew how it all began, or when they started treating each other like a couple. They just accepted it. There wasn’t even an official proposal; they simply, in [Name]’s direct and reserved way, accepted the fact that they were being courted by a fae.

Then one day, something changed—Lília appeared at the door of the cabin. In her arms, she carried something that completely caught [Name] off guard—there was a human baby. And next to her was the young fae who, later on, would be discovered to be the fae prince.

Without ceremony, Lília entered and simply said:

“Frufru~~~~ look what I found~ well, now we have a child!”

[Name] stood frozen for a few seconds, trying to process what he had just heard. He, who could hardly deal with adults, now had to live with a child and a young fae? And more: take care of them?

Confused and maybe a little scared, he didn’t say anything. But he didn’t refuse either.

Over time, he got used to this new routine, strange and unexpectedly... peaceful. The human baby, named Silver, came to live under the care of him and Lília, with [Name] being the one who always pretended not to care, but was always nearby. As for Malleus, the little prince, he was under Lília's affectionate protection, and gradually, also under [Name]’s watchful and silent gaze.

Later on, their little family expanded with Seberk, a young half-fae who was the grandson of an old friend of Lília.

For some reason, [Name] was able to recognize the face of each family member. He didn’t fully understand why, but he knew it was because of the love he felt for these people.

And that’s how this family came together, and now, in present-day Dorminia, they live together—a family that is far from normal, but that doesn’t stop the love each of them feels for the others.

Well, maybe I’ll make headcanons for this dear family.

#lilia vanrouge x male reader #lilia vanrouge #twst x male reader #twst #diasomnia #twisted wonderland lilia #twst lilia #lilia x reader #fae #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x male reader

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

Text

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 21

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes:

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

This has literally all the worst things the internet has to offer: Ableism, Sexisms, Toxic Media, horrible journalism, death threats...I am pretty sure I am missing some of it.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie sat curled up on the sofa in Aunt Lou’s living room, her arms wrapped around a cushion like it could hold her together. Mara was sprawled out beside her, her big brown eyes watching Lizzie carefully, like she knew something was wrong.

Lizzie ran her fingers through Mara’s fur, letting the motion of it soothe her, if only slightly. Her mind kept going over the same thing again and again: all those comments, all those tweets, all those people…they didn’t think she should exist.

They didn’t think, she deserved to exist.

And her mother…

Tasha was sitting cross-legged on the armchair, arms folded, her expression thunderous, playing with her phone.

Finally, Aunt Lou turned to Lizzie, hands on her hips. "Enough."

Lizzie blinked. “What?”

“This whole thing.” Aunt Lou gestured wildly. “This self-doubt, this ‘I was replaced’ nonsense. I am not having it.”

Lizzie let out a tired sigh. “Aunt Lou—”

“No. Listen to me, Elizabeth Louise.” Aunt Lou sat down on the coffee table, right in front of Lizzie, her sharp gaze pinning her in place.

“You were never replaced,” she said fiercely. “You were left. And that is not the same bloody thing.”

Lizzie’s throat tightened.

“She left you. She made that choice. And that is her shame to carry, not yours.”

Lizzie swallowed hard, but Aunt Lou wasn’t done.

“You are not a burden,” she said bluntly, hands on her knees, her voice steady and firm. “You were never a burden, you’re just… a little extra work. And if anyone can’t deal with that, they’re not worth your time.” Her eyes softened. “And sweetheart, you are worth it. You’re worth every bit of extra trouble, every hospital stay, every seizure…you are worth every damn second.”

“You know what I did?” Lou demanded. “When your father showed up at my door with you, six years old, confused, scared out of your mind?”

Lizzie shook her head.

“I took you in,” Lou said firmly. “I wrapped you in a blanket, I made you a cup of tea—weak, with too much sugar, because you were a kid and had terrible taste—"

Lizzie let out a weak laugh.

“—and I looked at you and knew right then and there that you were mine.” Aunt Lou exhaled sharply. “And you are mine, Lizzie. I don’t care about biology, I don’t care about paperwork. You are my daughter."

Lizzie bit her lip, trying to blink away the sting in her eyes. “You always treated me like one.”

“Of course I bloody did.” Aunt Lou huffed. “And if you ever doubt that again, I swear I’ll knock some sense into you.”

Before Lizzie could respond, Tasha let out an incredulous scoff from her chair. “I cannot believe we are even having this conversation.”

Lizzie turned toward her, startled. “Tash—”

“No, seriously.” Tasha shot to her feet, pacing like her mother had been earlier. “This is ridiculous.”

Lizzie frowned. “I—”

“No. You don’t get to just let some internet loser make you doubt yourself. You don’t get to do that to me.”

Lizzie blinked. “What?”

Tasha stopped, turning to face her. “You are my sister. You have always been my sister. And I don’t know how many times I have to say it before it actually gets through your stubborn head, but I will not stand here and listen to you act like you don’t belong to this family.”

Lizzie opened her mouth, but Tasha steamrolled right over her.

“You do belong. You always belonged. And I swear, if I hear you say one more word about being ‘replaced’ or ‘not good enough,’ I will fight you.”

Lizzie let out a choked laugh.

“I’m serious,” Tasha said. “I will throw hands. And then I’ll hug you after, because that’s what sisters do.”

Lizzie swallowed hard, overwhelmed. “I—”

Aunt Lou clapped her hands together. “Right. Settled then.” She stood, brushing off her jeans. “No more of this nonsense. You are mine, you are ours, and that is the end of the discussion.”

Lizzie exhaled shakily.

Tasha flopped down on the couch beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing tight. “Love you, dummy.”

Lizzie leaned into her, her heart aching in a way that wasn’t painful, just full. “Love you too.”

Aunt Lou sighed, shaking her head fondly. “Honestly, this family. Bloody stubborn, the lot of you.”

Lizzie smiled, the warmth of them settling deep in her bones. Maybe her mother had left. Maybe she had a whole new family now.

But Lizzie had hers.

And somehow, as the three of them snuggled up on the sofa together, watching some mindless TV show, Lizzie found herself believing it.

She was never a burden. She was never a problem. Maybe her mother didn't want her, maybe she never had, but that didn't mean Lizzie didn't belong.

She leaned her head against Aunt Lou's sturdy shoulder, Tasha's arm still around her.

She was loved. That was what mattered.

"Besides you got multiple world champions singing your praises," Tasha teased her.

What?

Tasha poked her in the side. “Don’t give me that look. It’s all over the internet. Lando’s got people swooning over how he’s so in love with you that he got the entire grid to release a statement. You’re all over the sports news.”

Lizzie freezed, coffee mug halfway to her lips. “What?”

“Yeah,” Tasha nodded, flipping her phone around so Lizzie can see the screen. “Like, all of them. It’s actually insane.”

Lizzie leant in, blinking at the words on the screen. Lando’s statement—she already knew about that one. But right below it are posts from Max, Charles, Carlos, Oscar—who apparently torched people on Twitter—Lewis, Pierre, Alex, even drivers she barely knew. Some of them are long and furious, others short but biting. But they all say the same thing: the way people treated her was unacceptable.

Lizzie stared. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Tasha said, popping a bite of toast into her mouth. “Oscar basically threatened to annihilate anyone who spoke badly about you again. Max said something about how F1 is about competition and not cruelty, —which, considering it’s Max, is actually kind of terrifying. Charles and Carlos both went full ‘we stand with Lando and Lizzie’ mode, and Lewis did this whole thing about supporting people with chronic conditions. Oh, and you got all the wags posting long rants on their instagram stories.’”

Lizzie’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. “What the hell?”

“Right?” Tasha snorted. “I mean, it’s actually insane. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this united over anything. You somehow got an entire grid of stubborn, overcompetitive men to rally behind you.”

Lizzie swallowed, looking back at the screen. The words blur slightly. She hadn’t expected this. She’d expected silence, maybe some awkward avoidance from people who didn’t want to get involved. But this?

This was a statement.

She set the phone down, exhaling. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Tasha watched her carefully. “Are you okay?”

Lizzie hesitated, then nods. “Yeah. Just—” She shook her head, laughing softly. “I didn’t think they’d care this much.”

Tasha smirked. “Well, they do. Lando wasn’t going to let this slide, and clearly neither were the rest of them.”

Lizzie rubbed her face, still processing. “I bet Oscar was unhinged.”

“Oh, completely. That man wrote a dissertation on Twitter. You should send him a thank-you gift.”

Lizzie snorted, finally smiling. “Like what?”

Tasha grinned. “A tiny crochet Oscar with a sword. Y’know, to commemorate his Twitter war crimes.”

Lizzie shook her head, but the smile lingered. “I might actually do that.”

***

Lizzie was curled up on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She’s been mostly quiet since dinner, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. Lando watched her from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a bottle of water in hand.

She finally sighed, locking her phone and tossing it onto the coffee table. “I think I’m going to lay low for a little while.”

Lando frowned slightly, coming over to sit next to her. “You don’t have to do that.”

Lizzie gave him a small smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “I know. But I want to. At least for a bit. Just… keep away from the internet, let everything settle.” She exhaled, rolling her shoulders like she’s shaking off the weight of it all.

His jaw tightened. He hates that she feels like this—like she has to disappear just to protect herself. “If that’s what you need, then do it,” he said softly. “But I don’t want you thinking you have to.”

Lizzie nodded. “I know. And I appreciate you, really.” She nudges his knee with her foot. “But it’s not forever. Just… a little while.”

Lando reached over, taking her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles. “Alright.”

She squeezed his hand in return, then nods toward his phone on the armrest. “But tell the guys and girls I said thank you. I mean, I’ll message Oscar myself because that man fought a war for me, but… the rest of them, too.”

Lando huffed out a laugh. “Oscar basically nuked Twitter.”

“I know,” Lizzie grinned. “I should crochet him a little war trophy.”

Lando chuckled lightly. “He’d probably love that.”

Lizzie leaned back against the couch, still smiling faintly. Then the exhaustion seemed to hit her again, and she closed her eyes.

Lando watched her, tracing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. She looked tired—exhausted, even. Tired physically and emotionally.

“Speaking of messages, though…”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “Oh no. What?”

“My family,” Lando said, watching her reaction carefully. “Mum, my sisters… they, uh—” He paused, then went for it. “They’re demanding to meet you.”

Lizzie blinked, “What.”

“They knew I was dating someone named Lizzie,” Lando explained. “But they did not know it was Elizabeth Treshton.” He made a face. “Apparently, that was crucial information I neglected to share.”

Lizzie sat there for a moment, blinking, like she was trying to process the idea of meeting Lando's family.

“They- They want to meet me? Why?” The words came out slightly strangled.

Lando shrugged. “Cause they’re nosy, and they think I’m hiding something, and I’m pretty sure if I don’t let them meet you, they’ll start thinking you’re actually secretly an alien or something.”

“Oh god,” Lizzie groaned, leaning forward until her head almost hit her knees. “Oh god, I have to meet the in-laws now. I have to-oh god I have to impress the in-laws. Oh god they’re probably going to hate me—“

“Whoa, whoa, hold on.” Lando put a hand on her shoulder. “First of all, they aren't gonna hate you."

Lizzie huffed. “How do you know? You can’t know that.”

He tugged at a strand of her hair, grinning. “Because you’re pretty damn lovable. And two… I know my own family. None of them could hate you even if they tried.” He shook his head. “In fact, they might actually be more excited to meet you than me.”

“I haven’t even processed the grid knowing who I am,” Lizzie groaned. “Now I have to face the Norris family tribunal?”

Lando grinned. “Basically, yeah.”

Lizzie sighed dramatically but then peeks up at him. “Your mum… does she like romance books?”

“Oh, she’s a huge reader,” Lando says. “I think my sisters are too. Why?”

Lizzie stared at the ceiling. “Because if they’ve read my books, I might just walk into the ocean.”

Lando just laughed, leaning over to kiss her temple. “Too late now, love. You’re stuck with me.”

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