#first time in 1000 years she's heard such a thing

[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[jennasommers]

Your relationship with him sounds abusive and toxic.

AURORA DE MARTEL & LIZZIE SALTZMAN Legacies, 4.13 — Was This the Monster You Saw?

[milksnake-tea]

✩ CHAPTER SUMMARY : Sunday spreads his wings for the first time in years.

✩ SERIES SYNOPSIS : Following the catastrophe of the Charmony Festival, rather than in one of Penacony's hospitals or prisons, Sunday awakens right in the base of one of the most notorious criminals in the galaxies. With nowhere else to go, he's left to follow you, the Stellaron Hunters' medic, in his attempts to become accustomed to his new life.

✩ WORD COUNT : 3.8k

✩ TAGLIST : @vynicity , @vxnuslogy, @https-mika, @greyrain23, @red-ninja15, @arienic , @immahuman , @sund4ykisser , @mysteriaqueen , @kiopanxp , @isa-l0v3r , @hesper-houkai-kat , @gamekillera , @nayukiyukihira , @randomidk-123 , @universetrash , @forevernyeong , @thedepartedcryptid , @heyhazelnut101 , @1000-leaves , @lowkeyren , @zhayur , @jellofishuu , @kascar-chronicle , @azaleaflowerr , @neigee , @fallintothechasm , @veritusratio , @astolary , @xphantasmagoriax , @semi-orangeapple , @ezra1yn , @xynthevoid , @apinu , @crysangria , @shenwi , @louchive , @mave-in , @mutiachan , @meerpea ( send me an ask off anon if you want to be added !! remember to specify that it is for this series )

✩ ADDITIONAL NOTES : sorry for the later update yall, i had to study for a math placement test and write scholarship essays 😭 more emotionally packed chapter this time because apparently i can't go on too long without sunday suffering. its not that bad tho. have fun, and thank you to @vxnuslogy for betareading this chapter for me !!

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Unnaturally-colored lights illuminate your face in an eerie glow. All that can be heard in your dark office are the small clicks of your digital keyboard as you type and the soft tunes of your computer.

Holding out your hand, you extract some of the stolen medicine from your inventory and throw them into your synthesizer with an effortless wave. Your fingers tap against the table in small, repetitive motions as you idly watch the drugs separating into their basic chemical compositions.

It’s been a few hours since you’ve returned from Euphrosyne.

Shortly after Sunday’s first robbery (with heavy quotation marks), he’d dragged you into a cosmetics store in order to ransack it of its skincare products. Now, you weren’t completely clueless, but some of the things he picked out you didn’t even know existed - and you stole drugs on the basis.

You wince at the memory. Your wallet is still recovering from that escapade - with so many people in a smaller store, it was inconvenient to just drug them all, so you ended up having to pay the old-fashioned way, much to your chagrin.

You raise your hand to type a few commands into the holographic keyboard that appears beside you. The synthesizer glows, rearranging and recombining the chemicals until a completely new drug is born.

Sunday’s probably in his room right now, putting away the gifts you’d bought him and no doubt eager to return Blade’s borrowed clothes. In a few minutes, he’ll come walking through your doorway for the examination of his wings.

His wings… The image of them at the clothing store resurfaces in your mind with a furrowing of your brow.

While you have a good feel for his personality, you can’t understand why he’d keep his wings like that. If you were a Halovian and had wings like that, you’d fly whenever possible. Wings like those are meant to be used.

After all, aren’t birds born to fly?

A high-pitched hum from the synthesizer snaps you from your thoughts. The new drugs float patiently in the synthesizer’s hold, awaiting your final input.

Ah, right. You almost forgot.

You walk over to your desk and down to open up a drawer next to it. Inside is your stash of sugar and various packets of artificial flavoring - ranging from typical fruity flavors to root beer or even coffee.

It isn’t like the Stellaron Hunters are made up of notoriously picky eaters (except for Silver Wolf, but she’s different), but you still like to add a little bit of flavoring as a final touch, just to make the otherwise bitter medicines bearable.

Returning to the synthesizer, you unzip a bag of sugar and scoop out a cup or two and dump it in, along with a few drops of random flavoring you grabbed. With another quick typing, you assign each medicinal candy a flavor and an appropriate amount of sugar, and then it’s done.

And then, as if on cue, the familiar sound of heavy boots comes from behind you.  

You squint as you look up from your synthesizer, the light from the hallway blinding you momentarily.

“Must you always do your work in darkness?” Blade mutters as he steps into the infirmary. 

His youthful face shows no signs of weariness, but you can tell from his slumped body language how many hours of sleep he’d gotten - which is to say, zero.

You shrug, taking the finished candies from the synthesizer. “It helps me concentrate.”

A ragged sigh emits from your senior. “If you wish to blind yourself so soon, my sword is a faster option.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you chuckle. “Besides, a little eye problem isn't anything I can't bounce back from.”

Blade’s gaze is piercing as he stares at you, the slightest narrowing of his eyes revealing his disapproval. “Your constitution does not warrant recklessness.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “Don't act like you're worried about me.”

He scoffs. Turning his head, the conversation ends there, leaving empty space behind. The silence isn’t unbearable; with Blade, things have always been this way, but there's an unmistakable tension in the air that you don't care enough to dispel.

You drop half of the candies into a jar before sliding said jar towards Blade.

“That should be enough for a month or so,” you say, leaning your elbows against the counter. “But don’t overdose, okay? Only use them when the mara becomes too much.”

Blade takes the jar without so much as a second glance. “I am aware.”

The shadow he casts as he leaves feels taller and more imposing than it should be. It catches the tip of your shoe, and you subtly take a step back.

The second Blade’s silhouette leaves your sight, a heavy sigh sags your body. Massaging your temple idly, you stare blankly into the light of your synthesizer.

“Great Mercy…” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “You just had to make it awkward, didn’t you? And we were doing so well too.”

You lift your head. Your vision feels hazy, and you don’t truly see your hands in front of you. The synthesizer’s glow blurs with the light in the doorway and the skin of your palms. For a moment, you are no longer in your office, but somewhere far, far away - a place you left several Amber Eras ago.

Inhaling sharply, you shake your head, dragging a hand over your face. Physically, it’s impossible for you to feel tired, but your mind is absolutely exhausted.

“That’s enough,” you quietly scold yourself. You roll back your shoulders and straighten from the desk, wiping your mind of any troubling thoughts. Blade never holds any grudges, and so neither should you.

Yeah… You shouldn’t.

You rest a hand over your heart. It thuds under your touch, still as frenzied and frightened as it was all those eras ago. Briefly, you consider ripping it out and growing a new one altogether.

“Mx. [Name]?”

A new silhouette joins the hallway’s light. You turn to see Sunday standing in the doorway, his expression candid - although slightly apprehensive. You wonder how long he’d been there - and hope that he didn’t see your exchange with Blade.

“You know, you don’t have to call me that,” you say, allowing your hand to drop to your side. Sunday blinks.

“Ah… I see.” He rests a hand over his heart in apology. “Forgive me, it’s a habit I developed in my line of work.”

Always with the apologizing, you think in amusement. “Nothing I need to forgive you for. All I’m saying is that you can just call me by my name, or whatever nickname you decide to force upon me.”

“A nickname,” he repeats. “Like the ones you call Ms. Kafka, and the others?”

“Don’t forget yourself, princess,” you joke, drinking in the way Sunday’s upper wings twitch at the name.

He sighs with a smile. “I was doing my best to.”

You hum out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m not going to let you. Come on in, let’s take a look at those wings, shall we?”

Immediately the lighthearted mood is vanquished. The air thickens, becoming almost suffocating. Sunday’s smile falters, the glow in his eyes dulls, and he crosses his arms in a vain attempt to provide himself a semblance of comfort.

Fear flashes over his eyes, and then a steady, unwavering determination.

“Right.” He breathes in, the breath shaking in his chest as he prepares himself. “The wings.”

—

It hurts.

Sunday knows he should’ve expected this - he hadn’t fully extended his wings in who knows how long, but still, the pain that strikes through his body is like nothing he’s ever felt before. Even the fall of the Charmony Festival hadn’t hurt this bad.

His body screams at him to stop, but the stretch is as painful as it is necessary.

“Breathe, princess.”

Your hand is an anchor at the small of his back, your palm flat against him as you aid him in extending his wings. 

In the back of his mind, he wants to shove you away, for his larger pair of wings are surely a horrid sight - an image of grotesque, mangled limbs flashes in his mind. But the pain overrides his need to appear presentable.

Sunday’s breath rattles - it’s a deadweight in his chest, pressing down on his lungs and heart and comes out as a wheeze.

“Princess, listen to me-”

Your voice drowns in the sea of his thoughts.

His eyes squeeze shut. In a seizure of ill-willed panic, he forces his wings to open faster, biting back a scream as the tearing sensation returns in full force. His fingers dig into his palms in an attempt to ground himself, but adding pain to pain does little to console.

His mind becomes a storm-wrecked ocean, waves crashing and beating at him every time he tries to surface. Horrid thoughts howl above him with the harsh winds, screaming at him to open them faster, to get this over with, to not disappoint you.

Water fills his lungs and he chokes, hands scrambling for any sort of anchor but finding nothing in their grasp. 

He’ll drown - he is drowning, slammed deeper into the waves again and again until-

Something grabs his wrist and pulls him out.

“Sunday.”

A strangled gasp shudders him. His eyes fly open.

The storm is gone. Replacing its howls is the distant hum of your synthesizer, and the dark waves are washed away by a gentle shadow. He sits no longer in groundless water, but instead on one of the two beds in the infirmary.

Your hand runs over his spine in a soothing motion while the other squeezes his shoulder firmly. Subconsciously, Sunday leans into your palms to stabilize himself.

He allows himself a few moments to breathe, gulping down vital mouthfuls of air. Like statues, his wings rigidly stay in place, in the middle of ripping themselves open. After a few minutes of silence, he finally composes himself enough to speak.

“I-”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off. Shame burns Sunday regardless. “Just listen.”

It takes Sunday a moment, one part because of his still-buzzing mind, one part another predicament entirely.

Your fingers linger around where the base of his wings are, in the window of the thin, long-sleeved shirt he’s thrown on for the examination. All of his senses are zeroed in on that small sliver of skin, tingling at the mere prospect of another’s touch - although he can’t tell if it wants or fears it.

“Sunday?”

With a start, he realizes you’re awaiting his answer. Heat rushing to his cheeks, he nods tentatively, signaling for you to continue.

“Your wings aren’t used to being pried open like that,” you say calmly. Instinctively he tries to find any hint that you’re annoyed, or irritated, or any of the sort. But he finds nothing, only a strangely secure serenity. “You have to take it slow; otherwise you’ll hurt them even more.”

Relief floods him when your palm lies flat against him once more. 

Wait, relief? Why was he…

“Focus on my voice,” you interrupt his thoughts before he can get too embarrassed. “I’ll guide you through it. Now, may I?”

Sunday’s lips part to ask just what you mean by that, only for his voice to lodge in his throat as you ghost a hand over the base of his wing.

Granted, his second pair of wings isn’t as sensitive as the ones that lie behind his head - thank Ena for that - but they still are more sensitive than he’d like to admit. Allowing you, who he’s known for a little more than a day, to touch them… even if this is a medical necessity, he still finds himself a bit wary.

“May I ask what you’re planning to do, first?” he asks quietly, turning slightly so that he can glimpse at your face.

“Remember what I did back on Euphrosyne, with the clerk?” you reassuringly squeeze his shoulder one last time before hovering both of your hands over the base of his wings.

Sunday remembers the scene at the clinic. “Your lollipop, you mean?”

You chuckle. “That too. But no, I meant what happened after the lollipop - when the clerk hit their head.”

“Ah.” Sunday’s wings rustle. “That healing ability of yours. You intend to use it on my wings?”

“Bingo. You hurt them a bit in that frenzy just now, so I need to repair that. It’ll also make the stretch much easier.”

That makes sense, Sunday thinks. But there’s one thing he’s slightly worried about.

“Is touching my wings necessary for this procedure?”

You hum. “Not really, although it’d be more efficient if I did. If I handle your wings directly, I can further aid you in extending them and more accurately heal them when needed. Would you rather I didn’t?”

If it were any other person - save for perhaps Robin and his adoptive father, Sunday would’ve said yes right away. A Halovian’s wings were one of the most intimate parts of them, especially the ones that extend from their nape. Only close friends, family, and romantic partners were allowed to touch them.

But the more he thinks, the more he realizes that he doesn’t feel as inclined to those traditions with you. There’s something about you that puts him at ease, much to his chagrin.

For some bewildering reason, he trusts you.

It’s just a medicinal procedure, he tells himself.

“No, I don’t mind,” Sunday finally says, turning his back. “Do what you must, doctor.”

He hears an amused hum from behind. “Alright, princess. Follow my lead.”

Sunday lets his eyes flutter close. He feels your hands lay gentle on his wings, the touch sending tingles of static up and down. It’s almost ticklish, but it isn’t unpleasant.

Warmth blooms at the curve of his wings, ebbing away the pain and leaving him with an almost refreshed feeling, as if stepping out of a dark forest into a sunlit meadow. He realizes that it’s your ability at work. Slowly, his shoulders droop, and his muscles relax.

Then he feels your hands slide up his wings, applying pressure every so often like a massage, correcting the kinks in his bones and healing whenever needed.

His breath hitches at the feeling. A pleased hum begins to vibrate in his chest like static as he loses himself to the dream-like feeling.

Vaguely, he hears you instruct him to open and close his wings, and he listens, easing them open at a gradual pace. The hum in his chest increases in magnitude, his back arching slightly as his wings extend to their full length.

He sighs in satisfaction once the stretch is complete and the tips of his feathers brush against the ceiling in a veil of midnight blue.

“Someone looks happy,” you say. “Feels better, doesn’t it?”

Your voice comes from a higher place than before, making Sunday look up. You smile down at him, hand resting gently on the bend of his left wing.

His left wing…

His serene expression falters. Carefully, he folds that wing in front of him and takes the dark plumage in his hands. Running his fingers amongst the feathers, he stops with narrowed eyes at the feeling of a sudden edge in the sea of softness.

Just as before, his left wing’s flight feathers are still cut short, snipped so that he may never take to the skies.

This time, he had been the one to cut them - Gopher Wood needn’t be bothered with such trivial matters, especially after Sunday had become an adult. But he remembers his first cutting well - the sheen of the scissors, the iron grip on his wings, the fear he’d felt, all in the past but not truly left behind.

“They’ll grow back.”

Sunday glances up.

“I know.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, not even to himself. But what he wants to convince himself of, he doesn’t know.

Sunday lets go of his wing and lets it hang comfortably at his side. You slide off the bed behind him and pull up your office chair. Sitting on it with your chest against the back, you roll back in front of him.

“Try flapping them,” you say. “Slowly, just open and close until you get used to the feeling.”

Sunday obliges. The wings are larger and heavier than he expects, and it’s a bit of a struggle, but he manages. Winds spurs from every flap of his wings, rustling your hair each time.

“No pain?” you prompt, raising a hand to summon a screen and type some things onto it. Sunday shakes his head.

“No.” He flaps one more time just to make sure, but he feels nothing, only his wings��� new weight.

“Good.” You type a bit more before closing the window. “I wouldn’t try flying just yet - especially with those clipped feathers, but we can start out with a few exercises every day to strengthen them. Kind of like physical therapy.”

Something warm blooms in Sunday’s chest. His heart rate quickens, and for the first time in years, he feels excited, giddy, relieved. It’s almost overwhelming, all of it. 

He flicks his wing again, and again, and again. A gleeful laugh bubbles up in his chest. 

His feathers tickle against his cheek, as if his wings are trying to comfort him. He smiles at the thought, despite how silly it is.

But then he remembers where he is. Heat reddens his face as he meets your amused gaze, his upper wings instinctively covering his face as he coughs bashfully.

“Sorry, I’m afraid I got a little carried away.”

“Aw, don’t get embarrassed on me now,” you giggle, not helping his predicament at all. “It was cute, watching you get all giddy.”

He half-heartedly shoots you a glare, to which you only smile calmly in reply.

“Are we finished here?” he huffs, eager to change the subject. You hum.

“Yeah, basically. I don’t have anything to give you, unless you want some of those sleeping candies I mentioned earlier.”

Sunday blinks. For a moment, he contemplates the offer despite you probably having only mentioned it in passing.

The nightmare from last night still hangs fresh in his mind, and his inability to fall asleep still bears its consequences - the reminder brings back the dull ache at the back of his head which he’d tried to ignore. Sleeping still scares him - if naturally induced rest brings upon visions such as those, he’d rather not sleep at all. But he is still mortal, human, and as such, he cannot evade his body’s needs forever.

Yet at the same time, he doesn’t want you to think there’s anything wrong with him to warrant such medications. 

Then again, you’ve already seen his wings.

“Those medications of yours,” he says softly, “do they get rid of dreams?”

You prop your elbows up on the back of your chair. “They do. Are you suffering from nightmares?”

He’s unable to stop the smallest flinch that confirms your speculations. You stand up, pushing the chair back to your desk.

“I get it,” you offer as consolation, although it doesn’t assure him as much as it piques his curiosity. “When I first came here, I had a rough time sleeping too. I only slept when I couldn’t stand anymore, and even Kafka was concerned - or well, as concerned as a woman like her could be.”

The synthesizer opens, revealing pre-made candies floating in its hold. Sunday recognizes them as the same ones Blade had walked out holding.

“When I found out Blade had the same problem - okay, well, not the same problem,” you correct yourself, “I started making these. After seeing them work so well on Blade, I figured I should take some too.”

Sunday tilts his head. “Blade has nightmares?”

“You can see it like that,” you say, bagging a couple candies with a wave of your hand. Thankfully, your hand doesn’t come in contact with the candies; otherwise, Sunday would leave them untouched in the corner of his room for all eternity. “But his ailment is far worse and more complicated than just that.”

Sunday briefly remembers the stories he’d read of the Xianzhou, including that of the curse its locals bear.

His gaze drops to his hands. “I see.” 

Sympathy tugs at his heartstrings. For a second, he is the Bronze Melodia again, listening to the plight of the weak with a careful ear. Now, Blade is by no means what he’d call weak, but knowing he suffers from such a cruel fate…

He looks over at you, brows furrowed slightly. Your back is turned, meaning he can’t see your expression.

Even the strongest have their vulnerabilities - this he knows well.

Then what does that make of you, who suffered like he did?

“You have nightmares too, then?” he asks gently.

“Had,” you’re quick to correct. “After a few Amber Eras, I got over them. I don’t take these anymore.”

There’s a clear edge in your tone that is chilling despite your otherwise easygoing voice. The message is clear - don’t push it.

Sunday tenses, his feathers bristling instinctively.

Right. He’s forgotten who you were - what you were. You may be kind to him now, but the two of you aren’t close, nor are you someone who needs his comfort. He is no longer the Bronze Melodia, and you are not his kin.

You’re a Stellaron Hunter - a criminal and a murderer.

You don’t need nor want his pity.

Your footsteps snap him out of his momentary moment of fear. You don’t look mad, or, well, anything, for that matter - just the same as usual. He could almost convince himself that nothing had happened at all.

The small mesh bag of candies is soft as you plop it in his palm.

“Don’t get too used to them, okay?” you sit down on the bed next to him, the mattress creaking as you do. He shifts his wing away so that it doesn’t drape over you like a blanket. “You can overdose on these, and it’s not fun.”

Did you know from experience? Sunday wonders, but decides against asking. He doesn’t want to push his chances.

“I’ll try,” he assures, folding his wings behind him.

“Looks like you’re already getting used to them,” you comment, leaning back onto your hands to look at his wings one last time. Sunday hums as you hold a hand out and run it along his plumage. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask. Do Halovians purr?”

Sunday’s mind malfunctions as he tries to process your words. “Excuse me?”

You drop your hand to look at him innocently. “Back when I was helping your wings out, you were making this purring sound, like a cat. I don’t know if you noticed but I wanted to ask-”

His wing smacks you over the head in embarrassment.

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reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 So Long, Quantico.

Prison Reid x Fem!reader

Read part two here!

Summary: Your best friend asks you for a favor and you must defend the innocence of the man you were in love with, the same man for whom you left the FBI and moved to another country years ago.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: mentions of murder, trauma, death, jail. angst without happy ending. miscommunication. right person, wrong time. reid's time in jail. spoilers for season 13 and all the ones before that. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: First of all I want to thank you for all the support in my first post because the truth is that I didn't expect (if you haven't read it yet, I already have my masterlist). I still can't believe I reached 1000 notes, it makes me very happy.

And secondly, I apologize in advance for this, but I love drama and being a little cliche sometimes. I promise to write a nice, comfortable, less dramatic Spencer story in the future (I hope so) but ttpd is my everything lately.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The constant pounding of your right leg against the table was beginning to make you desperate and to dwarf the room. You didn't know what to do to stop and think for a few seconds, you had even lost count of all the times you had tried to fix your already perfect and ironed clothes that you had spent hours choosing and modeling in front of your hotel mirror.

It felt like hours had passed since you arrived at the prison, though it was probably only a few minutes. Part of you wanted to run out of there and avoid a dangerous reunion at all costs. The other part was anchored to the chair and would not move until you found a way to get Spencer out of there and fulfill the favor Emily had asked of you.

You couldn't let your best friend down, especially when her job could be in jeopardy if Reid was still in prison. You wanted to make sure she was okay, and repay her for all the favors she had done for you during the years you had lived together in London. Without her, you probably would not have survived or become the successful and respected lawyer you were now. She helped you heal when you needed it, now it was your turn to help.

Before you could think, grab your things and maybe even leave the room to catch your breath, a guard abruptly opened the door. Your eyes immediately fell on the handcuffed man the guard had practically thrown into the chair in front of you.

You blinked several times, trying to process that you were actually standing in front of him. He looked so different from the way you remembered him from the occasional picture Prentiss showed you. The years hadn't gone by for nothing, you knew that, but Spencer looked like someone else. It was more than the messy hair, the beard, or the numerous bruises on his face that made you wince. It was that his eyes no longer sparkled, and he himself looked dull.

The guard came out after warning them that they only had fifteen minutes, and the cameras pointed directly at you two.

“Hey.” That was all you could say, biting your inner cheek at how stupid it sounded.

At first he didn't react and hardly seemed to breathe. His expression was like seeing a ghost, and you couldn't blame him after so many years of not hearing from you. You knew you looked different from the last time you saw each other because you had tried too hard to look like someone else. You wore your hair shorter and a different color, even the way you dressed was other. You looked more serious and grown up.

“What are you doing here?” He asked dryly after scanning you with his eyes for a few seconds.

You froze when you heard him speak and his voice, once music to your ears, was like a kick in the stomach.

“I came to help. I thought Emily told you...”

“She told me that she wanted to call you but I told her not to.” Spencer cut you off before you could continue speaking. “That you weren't going to help me.”

You frowned as your brain processed those words.

“Why not? You...you are my friend.” You said, trying to hide the tremor in your voice.

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, trying to look away from you because it hurt. You could feel the tension multiply, making it almost impossible to breathe in the small room.

“Friends don't stop talking for six years and pretend the other doesn't exist.”

Oh, that had hurt.

It was true that you had disappeared from his life six years ago, and you had not made the slightest effort to return, even leaving the country with the excuse of looking for a better future. But you had your hidden reasons, you wanted to forget Spencer Reid and your intensely ridiculous and unrequited love.

From the first time you heard him talk about statistics and smile at you like a child, realizing that you listened to him like no one else, you fell madly in love with him for years. Always hoping that one day he would stop thinking of you as his friend and realize how much he deserved to be loved and that you would be happy to do so, that you could give him the whole world without hesitation if he asked you to.

At first you thought he wasn't that interested in love, that he was too smart and focused to lose his mind like you did for him. However, then you saw him several times interested and pining for other girls: the movie actress, JJ, the girl at the bar and Maeve...she was very different and painful for you.

You couldn't stand his strong love for her, at least not being so close to him and having to play the role of the best friend who always listened to him repeat how wonderful she was. Knowing that he could fall in love with someone he didn't even know personally instead of you, whom he saw every day and had known for years, changed you and made you run away to save your heart.

You got a new job far from the United States, thanks to Agent Hotchner and his glowing letter of recommendation. And so you went back to being an ordinary lawyer, no longer chasing serial killers or a boy genius who never loved you as you would have liked.

“Spence, I...” You tried to speak softly, almost having the urge to take his hand to make the situation better, but you didn't. “I'm sorry.”

He was obviously tense, he wouldn't even look you in the eye and you could swear his eyes were a little crystallized. He barely glanced at you for a second before speaking again.

“You don't have to say it if it's not true.”

“It's true.”

You stopped yourself for a second, sighing and centering yourself again.

“But I'm here for the case, to help you with that...and I'm sorry for everything that happened to you.” You said more calmly and with an almost sweet tone.

You both knew it was more than just the prison issue and the current situation. It was a sorry for Maeve's death, Alex, Morgan and Hotch's resignation, his mother's problems, Cat's damn appearance, and most of all for not being there to support him in all.

“You should have called and said so.” He finally responded after letting out a snort and tensing his jaw more.

“Yeah...I should have.” You admitted, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

You thought silence would take over the room again, but instead he spoke again.

“You can go now.”

“I'm not going anywhere unless you're free.” You pointed out with determination.

“You don't have a problem with go before.” He said in the same indifferent tone that was beginning to irritate you.

You should have frozen, kept quiet and focused on the case to get him out of there. But you couldn't do that and act professional when your insides were burning with the memory of the past.

“Don't give me that, you know why I did.” You blurt out, frowning and instinctively pushing the chair away from the table that separates you from him.

“You never said anything to me.” He replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration before speaking again. “You just disappeared like everyone else I've ever loved because you got bored with me.”

“You know I left for the opposite reason, because I...” You tried to say, but your voice cracked and your hands shook in an awkward attempt to touch his. “I loved you the way that you were and...”

The sudden sound of the door opening made you gasp and immediately shut up. The presence of a grim-faced guard made you realize it was all over, and you pulled your hand away from Spencer's again.

“Time's up.” The guard reported and you signaled him to have at least more minutes.

Fortunately, the guard nodded and gave you only five more minutes. You looked at your client again, trying to get into the professional role and discuss his case, but he seemed to be in another world after your half sentences.

There was no room in Reid's mind for your words, after feeling guilty for so long for not doing enough to be a good friend to you, for scaring you away with his problems, for not being one you wanted to keep over time and return his calls. But now, did you really say what you thought? Did you really love and care for him?

Everything was tearing his word apart in that moment.

“You won't have to see me if you don't want to, but I'll get you out of here soon, Spencer. I swear.” You promised and you could see in his face the surprise at your honest tone.

Maybe he expected a different attitude from you, maybe he thought you were still so obsessed with him that you would insist on seeing him and kill yourself to make him laugh again. But you had matured, or so you thought. You were no longer the young woman who hugged him every time he felt far away and was content to be the one who was left over. Now, you were the brave woman who left the ship before it sank completely.

As you watched the guard check the handcuffs and lift Spencer out of the seat to take him away, something inside you reacted. You called out his name before you could react and quickly had his desperate eyes on you.

“You don't have to worry about the past...I'm over you.” You said confidently before nodding goodbye and walking out with one less burden.

He remained anchored to the ground, trying to process your words with his racing mind as he watched you leave him again.

You...you had been in love with him?

[lumibuns-blog]

Omggg i saw the new episode of jjk and it gave me such a big idea i think you'd love. Imagine one day sukuna finds his wife that he married thousands of years ago and due to their marriage his wife was granted immortality. And just like she never cheated or kissed another man just waiting for her husband to return and when they reunite (even if he doesnt say it) he is over the moon and just wants to never leave his wifes side ever again. Just much fluff and romance ahhhh

OMG THIS. THIS IS SO CUTE

Sakuna x reader fluff

Sukuna scoffed to himself, the boy had finally allowed him to take control after all this time. Even in this deep underground it felt good to feel the air on his face and not through that brat. He continued forward. Thousands of year of stored power and he had been reduced to a fraction of it, despite the immense power he held he couldn't help but miss the time when he ruled over the landscape, unchallenged.

He had a partner even, the one human who he couldn't bring himself to kill, the one he realized he couldn't live without. You had married him, been granted immortality by his hand, and still he had lost you. His last memory before being split and exorcised, was you running to him, crying his name. He was happy that was his last memory.

Sukuna tore himself from his own thoughts, they so often drifted to you but right now he wanted to use the small amount of freedom he was granted.

He moved his hand foreword, fire erupting from his fist as he threw the heat forward, it crashed through a wall, tunneling through the train station. He heard peoples screams like music to his ears, he walked foreword through the rubble. People ran, screaming, away from him. Fire cast from all around him, bursting every human in his sight into flames, he hummed contently to himself.

"S-Sukuna?" A feeble voice trembled from beside him

He knew that voice, he knew that voice, he slowly turned, a truly befuddled expression on his face, his lip curled as he dare not get his hope up but...

There you were, you looked exactly as gorgeous as the last moment he saw you, nothing changed, your clothes were more modern of course but there was no mistaking it, you were here.

"I knew it was you!" you cried, tears streaming down your face. You threw yourself into his arms.

He was too stunned to speak, his arms unmoving, all he could he process was the blood running down your leg, he moved his arms to gently put you down,

"Sakuna-"

"Did I do this to you?" He asked, his hand moving down to your leg, activating he reverse curse technique to heal the gash. He just couldn't believe that he had hurt you, it had been 1000 years and the first thing he did was hurt you

"Oh my love don't worry about that now" you smiled gently, you had always forgiven him no matter what he did

You moved a hand to his face to gently tip his head to look at you.

"I thought you would have found someone else by now, had a family moved on, I mean I'm sure you have" his voice grumbled low in his throat

"I would never" you leaned your forehead against his "I haven't touched a single souls since I lost you, I-I knew you would come back just like you promised"

Sakuna remembered the promise he had made to you that dim moonlit night, on the engawa of the palace you shared, that he would never leave you, even if the world fell apart he would always find you.

"I've missed you" he whispered moving his lips to kiss yours, he moved back to take in your entire person

"Your as beautiful as the day I lost you" he breathed

You smiled sweetly

"What the hell is going on?!?-" the onlooker was silenced as his head burst into flames

You continued to smile as if it was nothing

He picked you up bridal style, "we'll go find the house we used to share" he smirked to you

"I'd like that" you giggle

'Hey what the hell is going on' the brat who's body he had been forced to posses voice rang out in his head

Sukuna slapped his face "just shut it would ya" he growled to himself

"What was that?" you questioned from his arms

"I have a lot to explain" he breathed out

[rubyvhs]

the evolution of the ackles’ pt1 !

⤷ hi everyone! thank you for 1000 subs i really like making these videos and i’m glad y’all like them too. without further ado, here’s our beautiful couple growing over the years together.

✭ clip one : 2008   “ coworkers or dating ? „

“yes, thank you for your question.” jensen smiles at the girl who asked the question before facing the opposite direction for another question, jared doing the same.

“hi, i’m such a big fan, and i’ve been watching supernatural since it came out, and um, so my question is on the really long days on set— because i saw jared say it can go on ‘till two and four in the morning, what do you do to pass the time between scenes?”

jared and jensen both smile at the genuine question before the older one comes up with an idea, “i’ll answer for him, he’s always calling genevieve!” the crowd laughs, but it’s mostly ‘awe’s’ and jared can’t even complain as he shrugs nonchalantly, he’s not gonna deny the truth.

“and i’ll answer for him, annoy our writers to no end.” jared chuckles at mostly the memories he has of jensen running in between takes to talk to you. not that he’ll actually say your name, he knows how much jensen values his privacy and the both of you aren’t public yet. 

jensen shrugs with a smirk, knowing it’s true and having nothing else to add. what more does anyone need? he knocks on the writers trailer twice a day at least. 

someone from the crowd, quite brave if you ask jensen, shouts your name and the whole room erupts in laughter and screams. he opens his mouth only to close it again with another shrug. “thank you for your question.” he addresses the girl and faces the other way.

✭ clip two : 2010   “ coworkers or dating ? „

“and, um, yeah, basically having that support on set, knowing that our voice matters i think is really important. i mean, i worked on other sets and i’ve heard from my friends sometimes how hard it can be when you— you know, when you’re not heard, and it’s not like that on supernatural. the writers are always happy to talk to me and jared and misha about anything and it’s helped us really trust them that now we don’t even really ask, we just know we’ll love whatever they say.” the interviewer smiles softly at jensen, nodding at every word. but she can’t help it, she knows it might get a little awkward if she asks but hey, the things you do for advertisement.

“and are there any specific writers that you enjoy working with?” jensen laughs, rubbing his hand down his beard before pointing at her with a ‘you got me’ look. 

“i— uh, not particularly, they’re all great, jeremy and bob, margie and uh, yn. they’re all good people. and actually, recently, i think the last episode of season eight, right? yeah, she directed it.” the interviewer doesn’t even need to ask who he’s talking about as his eyes light up and he sits up a little straighter. “she’s really good at directing and she kept saying it was her first time but she had a really good eye with the cameras, and um, especially directing with such a big set is hard she had to watch five cameras. but anyway, it was an overall great day actually, and i think you’ll enjoy the episode when it comes out.”

“yeah? well, we can’t wait to see it.” she faces the camera, “and don’t forget to tune in to supernatural every saturday at 8 pm est, this is cordelia with jensen ackles,” she faces the actor again, “thank you jensen.”

he stands up from the chair to shake her hand with a polite ‘thank you’ before walking off.

✭ clip three : 2011   “ coworkers or situationship ? „

“on another episode of jared and jensen not working on set, we have jared,” misha, who’s behind the camera points it at the taller man, currently stuffing his face with gummy bears, “and jensen.” then points it to the older actor and, would you look at that, he’s smiling at his phone. “not working on set.”

jared looks up at him with a friendly glare, “yeah ‘cause we’re having lunch,” he holds up the gummy bears as if that’s all the evidence in the world, and really, what more would you need? “what are you doing not working, huh?”

misha doesn’t answer, and his face isn’t visible from behind the camera, but it’s not hard to tell that he’s giving jared an angry expression. so the camera pans back to jensen texting as misha takes slow deliberate steps, trying to to disturb him so he can capture what he’s doing on his phone but half way through jensen holds his hand up, dismissing misha without even looking away from his phone.

“what do you want?”

“what are you doing?”

“nothing.” and it’s back to texting. misha sighs, walking away with a curse at his two co-stars, but it’s fairly obvious the next words out of jared’s mouth in the background are, ‘is that her?’

✭ clip four : 2011   “ coworkers or idiots in love ? „

the interviewer says your name, loud and clear through the speakers as you walk down the long hall of chairs. you smile, waving at the entire crowd before you reach rob and richard, greeting each of with a hug, then jeremy. you, jeremy and andrew are the main writers, and executive producers, and so you’re the only ones on the table so far, until they bring out jared, who sits next to you, then jensen, misha, and mark.

the questions seem nice enough, they’re pointed mostly to the four actors and you don’t mind one bit, you’re only here because you have to be, this isn’t the part of the industry to strive to be known for.

until someone asks about charlie’s death. 

“so my question is for jeremy, andrew and yn, but um, i would like the rest of the cast to also give your reactions to it. so my question is, considering that women have often been used to further the plot of male characters: why was the decision made to kill charlie and dump her in a bathtub—” jared works quickly to move his chair in the opposite direction, looking up at the huge screen as the other three cast members do the same, giving their back to the audience.

but jensen only moves his chair back so he can rest his legs on the table, and he’s looking at you. it takes a second before they go back to their place and you clear your throat before answering, “i had the same question for andrew when he came up with it.” you smile politely up at your coworker and he laugh, as well as everyone else in the room. oh, if only they knew how much of a joke you’re takin’ this.

“yeah, uh, no, in all seriousness—” and he goes on a ten minute bullshit tangent about how this is supernatural and everyone in it dies one way or another. 

and then jensen speaks up, “and correct me if i’m wrong, but charlie was supposed to be a one off character anyway, right?” you bite your lips to stop the profanities as you nod for andrew. but you only do it out of obligation, he’s staring right at you. but you won’t defend something you were so clearly against in the writers room.

the question passes wistfully after that and you’re sure it’s thanks to jensen’s input, like somehow the second he talks everyone in the crowd calms down.

the clip cuts from him staring st you as you thank the girl, to the two of you standing next to each other once the panel is over, hugging, then he leans down to whisper something in your ear that makes you laugh and the entire crowd applauds harder.

✭ clip five : 2011   “ causal or confirmed ? „

“it’s the last question!” rob sings, the music flowing in the background. “oh, it’s the last question.” jensen takes the nervous girl’s hand to sit her down on his chair while he sings with rob, jared leaning down to hug and comfort her. 

“oh, last question!” he says with a final breath and as rob’s asking the girl what the question is, jensen is panting and asking for a minute. after he’s done, she finally gets to speak, even if her voice is a little shaken up. jared keeps a hand on her shoulder the entire time.

“so, um, what’s your favorite part of the new set because you said you changed it recently? the location.” jared hugs the poor quivering girl with a reassuring nod.

“yeah, yeah we did. great question! basically everything is the same, we didn’t change our trailers or anything— but i think the directors and writers got bigger ones, huh, rob.” he says pointedly at his friend who sucks in a breath with a shrug that makes the crowd erupt with laughter. “but nothing too special, but because it’s a new season we got so many new people on the set so really my favorite part is all the new memories we got to make.”

everyone claps for jared before he hands the mic back to jensen (on the video a small text bubble in the corner reads : he broke his mic a couple of minutes ago in case you’re wondering why they’re using the same one).

“yeah, i like jared’s answer, the memories we made this season were special to me and i, uh, actually,” he clears his throat, “i was just talking to my girlfriend, about this, yn, she uh—”

he doesn’t get far into that sentence before its screams and whistles through the entire venue. he chuckles a little, taking a step back from the chair. he knew he’d get this reaction, he didn’t expect anything less, even if he hasn’t exactly been hiding you.

“yeah, she, she’s great, and we were talking about this season and that its probably the one where we had the most new people on and it was a lot of laughs and fun, we got to see the musical episode, thank god we didn’t actually sing, but yeah, obviously that episode was a fun one to film.” he smiles down at the girl. “so yeah, great question, thank you.” he says goodbye before the screen goes black.

✭ clip six : 2012   “ honeymoon phase „

your scream is the first thing blasting through the video as you jump into the water, fully emerging the phone with you and you wave at it befor finally getting back up. just as you’re about to take your breath, someone lands next to you and you can’t control your laugh. 

you swim over to the wooden stairs to sit down before you change the camera to the back one and jensen can be seen getting out of the water, looking around for you.

the camera’s back on your face. “hi everyone, this is our honeymoon where jensen thought he’d get a relaxing week with his new wife but i have been anything but relaxing, and um, send your prayers for him, okay? okay!” you squeal the last part out as you’re back in the water and it’s safe to assume that’s jensen’s doing.

⤷ alright guys that’s all for part one, but it’s still a long way to go in the ackles’ beautiful story, press here for part two !

[lightsoutletsgo]

love letters; with love from... — cl.16 (part 2/2)

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

word count: >1000

warnings: some brief mentions of angst but nothing to heavy, they're so in love your honor, bad screenshots??

tysm for all the love for part 1! i never expected it to do as well as it did. hopefully you all love part 2 just as much! happy reading! love mimi 🤍

love letters; dear (part 1)

taglist: @arieslost @d3kstar @minkyungseokie @evie-119 @sltwins @maplesyrupsainz @charlesgirl16 @jaydaaasworld @rhythmstars @ravisinghs-wife @itsjustkhaos

You exhaled shakily as your eyes scanned the caption you'd drafted in your notes app. You didn't even tear your eyes away from the screen as Charles slumped down onto the couch next to you. "Everything okay mon amour?" You swallowed and nodded, offering your phone to him so he could read the caption. He was silent for a minute before he turned to look at you, tears in his eyes, "I am so so proud of you." You smiled, feeling yourself getting emotional, sniffling a little as he pulled you into him. You led there with him just enjoying the quiet comfort he provided before he spoke once more, "When are you going to post it?" You giggled and sat up, Charles following suit, "Are you gonna just drop it on instagram with no warning again?" You winked at him before unlocking your phone and typing out the post. Once you'd proofread it you hit 'post', immediately locking your phone and turning your notifications off as they already started pouring in. Charles gaped at you for a moment before scrabbling to find his phone, not struggling to locate it as it buzzed and vibrated constantly with new notifications, "You could have given me time to prepare!"

♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧

y/nsworld

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 25,942,833 y/nsworld here we are, a year later and another surprise for you beautiful people! 'all the things I love to tell you' is out now on streaming platforms everywhere! oh wow, how exciting it is to finally be able to tell you guys about this 🥹 this album is the second half to my healing journey and it's full of love and light and hope for the future. a huge thank you to my company and management for giving me the freedom to release my music in the way I felt I needed to. thank you to my friends for listening to these songs in the car at 3am and crying with me when we realise just how far we've come, for putting up with me stealing their napkins at dinner to write lyrics and for once again holding my hand until I felt ready to take a step on my own. as always, thank you to my incredible fans who inspire me to keep writing and whom without NONE of this would be possible. and finally to my love, charles, thank you for being my muse, my biggest encourager, my musical partner and my rock through the past year. this album is about you, for you and was made with you. thank you for letting me call you the love of my life every day. you're all I need until forever falls apart can't wait to see you all on tour soon! love y/n 🤍

View all 45,730 comments y.nmusic I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN WAIT WHAT? ⤷ ynloverrr ISTG SHE CAN'T KEEP DROPPING ALBUMS ON US LIKE THIS

y/nupdates I'm gonna need someone to dissect everything about this post in a twitter thread 😭

taylorswift I'm so proud of you for this album 💜 can't wait to come and watch you on tour! Comment liked by y/nsworld

sabrinacarpenter I will let you steal my napkins anytime if it means I get songs like pancakes for dinner 😭🫶🏼 Comment liked by y/nsworld

francisca.cgomes I need to breakup with pierre just to experience falling in love with him again with this album Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld babe i love you sm 😭 ⤷ francisca.cgomes baby? i love you more ⤷ pierregasly you're literally MY girlfriend? ⤷ y/nsworld but she's MY wife Comment liked by francisca.cgomes

yncharles oh to be a fly on the wall when lando, lily and alex heard these songs for the first time 😭🥹 ⤷ y/nsworld coming to tikotok and insta reels soon my love 🫶🏼 ⤷ yncharles OMG OMG SHE REPLIED SKSKDKDFKJ ⤷ alex_albon pls don't use the clip of me sobbing over 'that part' Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld too late bestie 😄 ⤷ lilymhe I am still not over and will never get over "you might not like her" Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld I will never be over the hug you gave me when I finished playing it to you for the first time

charles_leclerc mon amour, it was an honor to be involved in your music journey and I am so thankful for every day I get to share with you. darling I'd wait for you til forever falls apart 🤍 Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ chachacharles THEY'RE MY ROMAN EMPIRE 😭 ⤷ charlesfann pls tell me someone else noticed charles credited as songwriter on 'til forever falls apart' 😭

ynmylove LETS 👏 TALK 👏 ABOUT 👏 HOW CHARLES AND Y/N USED SONG TITLES IN THEIR COMMENTS TO EACH OTHER 😭 ⤷ charlesandcarlos try not to cry challenge FAILED

on twt:

y/n's q+a on ig:

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/nsworld, maxverstappen1 and 12,942,833 charles_leclerc my incredibly talented girlfriend's album is out now! I am beyond proud to be able to say that she trusted me to help her not only record some of the songs but write them too. I didn't know I was much of a songwriter but looking into your eyes suddenly turned me into a poet ma belle.

everyday you inspire me with your creativity, your passion, your energy and your love for those around you. I could write you a million love songs and there would still be things left to say. you're all I need now until forever falls apart. j'taime mon amour ❤️ (if you haven't heard the album yet make sure you go and listen now!)

View all 45,730 comments y/nsworld I love you more than any love song could ever express. my muse, my love, my life 🤍 Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ ynloverrr OH MY GOD?! I'M SO VIOLENTLY UNWELL OH GOD ⤷ ferrar1 'looking into your eyes suddenly turned me into a poet'

y/nandcharles THEY ARE MY ROMAN EMPIRE

sabrinacarpenter This album is literally on repeat! I cried the first time I heard 'you might not like her' and every time since

charlesforwdc can we all please just appreciate the STUNNING piano in 'so this is love' Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld we were literally just messing about in the studio and decided we liked it enough for the album! ⤷ y/nvocals the fact they were both "messing about" and sound THIS GOOD IS INSANE

maxverstappen1 congrats mate! you nailed this project!

landonorris from sliding into the dm's to collaborating on an album is CRAZY ⤷ y/nsworld LANDO 😭😭 ⤷ f1fannn exCUSE ME? sliding what?! ⤷ charleswifey charles sliding in her dm's is crazy but understandable 😭 ⤷ charles_leclerc try the other way around... 👨‍🦯 ⤷ y/nsworld BABY! 😭

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[adventuringblind]

Breathe For Me

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Dialouge: "It's okay, you can rest. We've got you. Just Breathe."

Summary: Marks on your soulmates skin appear on yours. Oscar and Lando hope they find whoever it is before they run out of time.

Warnings: SELF-HARM, Alcohol, scars, blood, panic attacks,

Notes: This is Part of my 1000 follower event. Feel free to click the link and throw me a request!

Masterlist

It's not every day you meet your soulmate. It's certainly not rare, but it also isn't an everyday event and is supposed to only happen once. If you're Lando Norris, then you get to go through it twice.

Originally he thought only one. I mean, maybe his souldmate is just clumsy. That is not the case however, because Lando has more scars, cuts, bumps, and bruises then anyone else he knows. He would be fine with it if he wasn't on national television all the time.

Max and Charles were lucky and found each other in Karting. Max had a bruise on his face from his dad and showed up to the race with it still getting darker. Charles had one to match. Now they're happily in love and the public doesn't now (is what they tell themselves).

So Lando finds himself stuck in between a soulmate who bruises every occasionally and on who gets scrapes nearly every day. He feels for whoever the first is because Lando is clumsy and is always running into things. Between himself and whoever the latter is, he probably is already exasperated.

Aside from his family, Carlos is the first person to notice. He double checks nothing is happening in Lando's own life that is causing all the marks. He assures happily that he's clumsy and the two soul mates certainly don't help.

Lando has heard of people carving names and addresses into their arms to find their destined partner. He lets it happen naturally. It's supposed destiny and who is he to rush it?

Daniel admits to an extreme worry of Lando. The older driver kept a close eye on him and Lando has to reassure him non-stop that he's clumsy, but it's not that bad.

He soon realizes that it's not the bruises Daniel is worried about, it's the scars. When his sweatshirt sleeves roll up the red lines are visible. It's something he's gotten used to over the past couple of years, but he dosen't think about it when he's not being filmed.

They cover a good amount of space on his body. Biceps, collarbone, thighs, stomach, and shins. It wasn't that bad until 2021 when it got significantly worse. It's stressing him out if he's being honest with himself.

He's is pieces when Daniel tells him he's losing his seat. No other driver lined up yet. Another teammate gone.

Daniel reassures him that Oscar looks like he'll make a good teammate. Lando is skeptical. Oscar is younger and a rookie.

The first time he meets Oscar is at the MTC. They shake hands, two sets of sleeves role up and Lando can't help but stare.

They match. Their wrists are completely identical.

They don't talk about it until a while later after spending the off season getting to know each other. They determined in Febuary they would be really close friends. It obviously escalated and now Charlotte keeps tell him to make it less obvious.

He's nit afraid to say he's weak for Oscar. A calm in his storm of emotions. The one person who can get him to actually rationalize his anxious thoughts.

In 2023, three rookies came to the grid. One of them being a female driver for alphatauri and a good friend of Oscar's. She then consequently became a friend of Lando's.

Which would be so terrible if Lando didn't know for a fact she's hiding something. She's shy and closed off to everybody unless it's him or Oscar. Mostly because he's forced his way under her skin.

"There is something about her, Osc. I can feel it in my bones."

"Are you sure it's not the cup of milk you downed getting to your head?"

"Rude!"

Oddly enough, it's max who approaches them about her later. He'd gotten to know her through media things and race weekends and often asked Lando about her or vice versa.

He pulls Oscar and him aside early one morning in the paddock. Oscar is still half asleep and Lando doesn't know what's happened until Max slides their sleeves up.

The ones they decided to wear to the cameras didn't pick up the fresh scar close to their elbow on their forearms. Completely identical to each other.

"You said you have another soulmate right?"

"Yes?"

"I think I might know who it is."

This is how Lando and Oscar find themselves in front of her hotel room door after the race. A DNF that wasn't her fault had ended her race early. Max had been about to go get her himself, but Lando and Oscar had said they would. If Max is right then they have a higher chance of getting through to the female driver.

Max sent them with the key card he has to her room. The one he forced her to give after he found her last night with a blade in her hand.

They knock out of curtosey first. No answer, as expected, but at least they tried. Maybe She’s asleep? Lando knows that’s probably not the case but he really doesn’t want to and see what is most likely happening. If the sting on his thigh says anything, it’s definitely not sleep.

Oscar keys the door open and hesitantly steps inside. Lando follows right on his heels. The lights are off and he would probably think it was empty if it weren’t for the visible blob of blankets in the corner that’s sobbing violently. to close to hyperventilation for Lando’s liking. He takes immediate action and pulls her out of the blankets.

Immediately, he keeps her body from curling in on itself so her chest is open and can get air easier. Oscar manages to find a lamp switch. She’s a wreck. So incredibly broken that Lando doesn’t know where to start.

“Breathe.” Is all he can come up with. "It's okay, you can rest. We've got you. Just Breathe."

Somehow he coax’s her to sleep. Him and Oscar combined manage to get her to bed, wrestle her shoes off, and bandage what they could see without removing clothing.

Oscar practically forces Lando into the be with her and he takes the floor. He’d said he’d take the floor with him, but Oscar claimed that Lando is the lighter sleeper and would know if she moved at all. Curse his soulmate and his logical thinking.

She manages to sleep until five in the morning. This time she just cries and huddles closer into Lando.

“I’m sorry you have to see me in such a state… I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

Lando maneuvers then int a sitting position. He then takes a pillow and throw it at his lover on the floor. Oscar stirs and groans.

“Must you.”

“Yes, It’s funny.”

Oscar makes his way up onto the bed and looks immediately like he’s going to fall asleep. Lando consequently throws another pillow at him.

“You should know something…” Lando starts. He doesn’t finish because the word are not doing what he needs them to. They jumble on his head and he can’t figure out where to start.

He’s entirely to grateful for Oscars presence. “Max thinks that the three of us are soulmates.”

Lando was thinking it would be like the first. Realization followed by smiles and laughs. This is not that. Instead it’s panic. She defends into the depths of her mind as she studies the match scars, even revealing her own identical one.

The pain, embarrassment and shame are written all over her features. She’s mumbling through some kind of an apology.

“Breathe.” He repeats. He says it over and over again until it’s all her own mind can hear.

Oscar looks gutted and lost. He’d helped Lando through many panic attacks, but this is completely different.

“I didn’t think I would ever find you. The doctors had tried to cut me off because it was a mistake since there were two. They said I wasn’t supposed to have one.”

Are the two boys shocked? A tad. Why would a doctor do that?

Lando doesn’t get time to ask as she pulls out a bottle of medication from the drawer in the nightstand. It’s stuff he’s heard of, but never actually seen. “This has been suppressed to sever the connection, but it hasn’t worked. They said to take it in higher doses at smaller intervals until it stops.”

She pops open the lid and pours a couple into her hands. Thank goodness for quick reflexes because Lando goes to get the ones in her hands, and Oscar goes for the bottle. She's too focused on Lando to notice the Aussie who manages to swipe it from her.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Didn't feel relevant."

"But this is incredibly dangerous! I've heard most people who do it end up -" Oh. It dawns on him why she's doing this to herself. The connection between them was already rough for her. She had been trying to 'fix' it like her doctors said. Had been told her entire life that the people who are fated to lover her unconditionally won't because she is nothing to them.

"How long have you been taking the meds?" Oscar's voice is so careful. The Brit would love to swoon, but it feels impolite at the moment.

"Years. They've tried everything. Put me on different kinds and change the dosage."

"Thirteen?" Lando whisper asks. His voice was barely audible. The small nod from the female confirms it. That's when the first scars arrived.

Lando places his hands on either side of her teary face. "You are not a mistake. You have never been a mistake. We've been aching for you. Scared maybe one day there wouldn't be any more marks and the implications of it. I've wanted nothing more than to tell you for years that you are loved and wanted."

He didn't even notice his own tears. Everything is just so overwhelming at the moment. They came so unexpectedly that it almost startled him. Screw Oscar and his ability to be amazing emotional support. The hand on Lando's knee is the only thing keeping him grounded.

They don't let her go until Max comes to get her. She's flying to do some filming with him. Neither of the males want to let her go, so they don’t. They end up flying with her since McLaren hasn’t filled their schedules.

But then they don’t leave. They spend every moment possible reminding her she is loved. That they want her. That nothing between them is a mistake.

Soon the scars start to fade.

But have no fear, Lando is clumsy enough to make up for it.

[spadesolace]

what is love?

1000 special: the fic that started it all

words: 3k

spade speaks: “i want to say thank you to the love and support you have given me within a year of me posting. 2023 is really a rollercoaster of a ride - from the angst that i’ve written to the fluff in the end. i’d like to dedicate this fic - the one that started it all - to all of you. what is love has a special place in my heart. to the ones that followed me from the start and to those who are joining along from the ride. thank you, i appreciate your existence.”

what is love?

minji never knew the answer to that question, there was no definite answer to be given when she hasn’t experienced love herself. with the amount of confessions she has gotten, not one made her heart skip a beat – even when her fake crush confessed to her. that was before realizing her own feelings towards her best friend, who is now her girlfriend as well.

you are the only person who owns her heart before she even knew that you have it. the only person to make her stop and go insane just by merely looking at you; and all this time she thought that she merely admired you as a friend. so what is love according to kim minji?

love is as sweet as candy.

minji is well aware you’re not one for PDA, aside from holding hands while walking around the mall or walking her to her classes. kisses were out of the window whenever you’re outside and hugs were a once in a while thing for you. yet seeing you letting wonyoung kiss you on the cheek made minji’s blood boil.

it was friendly, she’s aware of that but letting your other best friend freely kiss you while your own girlfriend has to wait until you’re alone seemed unfair. which lead to your current position, minji cornering you as your back is pressed against a wall – the position would have made you laugh as minji was a few inches smaller than you but your girlfriend looks mad that you could only let out a squeak as she was inches from you.

“son y/n jangmi.” a nervous laugh left your mouth, full name was rarely blurted out especially with your korean middle name.

“darling, why the full government name?” minji was pointing at your chest, your back now fully pressed to the wall that you're scared of what she would do.

“kiss me.”

“WHAT?!” both are aware that PDA is the one thing that you won’t do, the sudden demand makes you question what is running on your girlfriend’s mind. let alone what brought the idea up.

“i said kiss me.”

“yeah, i heard you but- could you put your finger down first.” minji slowly backs away and puts her hands to her sides as you finally relax a bit. “why suddenly bring it up?”

minji looks away from your piercing gaze, looking everywhere and avoiding your eyes, a nervous habit of hers that you’ve noticed since you were kids. personally, you would love nothing more than to kiss your girlfriend – the only thing stopping you is that you’re in public despite staying in the locker room where minji managed to catch you alone while your teammates went home already.

“well–” minji finally looks at you, and she could only see a puppy as you tilted your head slowly leaning closer to her with a smile on your face. her immediate reaction was to push your face away as her face heats up from the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

“stop looking at me like that.” minji’s hand is still on your face, taking it with your own free hand and slowly putting it down.

“like what?” your laughter is the one thing minji will never get tired of. taking a quick peek at you as she processes what she wanted to say. she draws a blank. her heart beating faster than it normally does. 

“like i put the stars in the night sky or something – i don’t know.”

you could only hold minji’s hand that was closest to you, kissing the top of it as you walked closer to her. smiling at her as you held her chin up to properly look at you.

“if you wanted a kiss, just ask nicely, darling.” soft lips on top of hers, cherry flavored lips that feels like she’ll get intoxicated from along with her strawberry flavored lips that has you weak. cherry might not be the sweetest flavor there is but minji thinks you're as sweet as candy with the way you pull her closer as if she’s your oxygen and that you’re dependent on her lips. minji had to stop you before anyone could possibly walk in on you two – despite your coach letting you lock up.

“ok ok, don’t overdo it.”

“noted, darling. so… why the sudden request?” as minji explained her reason in embarrassment as they walked out the locker rooms together. your hand holding hers while carrying both your bags in one arm. your thumb caressing the back of her hand as you walk home together - even in the littlest of things minji feels butterflies in her stomach.

love is like flying in the sky.

it had been a week since you left for your internship in your mom’s firm, leaving minji alone in your apartment. with it being a few days away from her birthday, minji wishes you’d be there on her special day. she waits patiently for you to call, all the way from new york as the clock strikes 9 in the morning, right on time. minji didn’t hesitate and immediately answered your call. there you stood in your pyjamas in your mother’s apartment as you held a bowl close to you. 

“good morning, did you sleep well?” minji wishes she could be completely honest and tell you how much she hates sleeping alone now that you’re miles away from her. how your side of the bed feels so empty and having to cuddle your pillow doesn’t make things any better. she keeps her mouth shut.

“yup, woke up early today. mina-unnie is coming to pick me up in 2 hours. how’s your day so far?” you nodded as you filled your bowl with your mom’s cooking and brought your phone with you as you dined alone.

“quite busy, a lot of case studies and mom plans on extending the stay for two days.”

“oh- that means you won’t be here for my birthday…”

before your call with minji, the truth was that you were free to go back to korea as your mom finishes some business. knowing fully well that minji’s birthday is around the corner and you wouldn’t want to miss it. so, you booked the earliest flight back to korea which meant either landing on the day itself or earlier. in a few hours or so, you’ll be back home within the arms of your girlfriend.

“sorry, darling. i’ll make it up to you when i get back.” a part of you was hoping that she’ll fall for your lie, and just looking at her mood; it might have worked too well.

mina even texted you that minji was sulking during her shoot, which has been happening quite a lot and it’s what made the shoots fast sometimes. despite mina complaining every 10 minutes about how your girlfriend keeps sighing and saying she misses you. it had reached a point where mina had to show minji your old pictures when she and chaeyoung would babysit you.

on the day of your flight, you had asked your mom to not tell anyone that you’ll be home for minji’s birthday let alone if minji asks her. to which your mom admitted would be quite hard as she loves minji as if she was her own daughter.

“please, mina-unnie knows about it so she can pick me up. you could probably ask wonyoung to keep minji busy so that she wouldn’t message me while i’m on the plane. simply just tell her that i’m busy or asleep.” your mom just patted you on the shoulder as she turned you around and pushed you towards immigration.

“stop worrying, i’ve kept the fact that i was rich from your father for years. now, safe travels and call me when you’ve landed.” you never got the chance to question your mom, all you remember is rushing and getting on board for your 15 hour flight that could make or break your sanity just to be there for your girlfriend of 3 years.

on the other side of the world, minji was lowkey losing her sanity. it’s not like you to miss her messages or calls - even if you were busy you still answered it. nothing made sense to her as she questions why wonyoung and hanni are doing their best to make sure she doesn’t check your location. it had almost been an entire day since your last message and she didn’t want to get her hopes up as your mom sent her a picture of you at your desk reading cases (it was taken the previous day).

“UGH- WHY ISN’T SHE ANSWERING MY CALLS?!” hanni is scared for her life because she hasn’t seen her best friend lose sanity over a girl and it wasn’t like you to leave her hanging. wonyoung is simply enjoying everything as she waits for your message that you’ve landed and as if the gods had answered her prayers; you finally messaged them of your whereabouts.

“i really can’t thank you enough, mina-unnie.” one of the many perks of having a future sister-in-law that is a CEO of her own company is getting a free pass to use her private plane.

“no worries, knowing how you’ll try to survive a 15 hour flight on business. the least i could do is not let you suffer and be cranky when surprising my model.” the trip on the way back to your shared apartment with minji took longer than expected due to the traffic. you’ve already informed wonyoung on how close you are to home.

minji is on edge, it’s her birthday and you’re a no show - messages and calls ignored. she was close to sending you an email until hanni stopped her and hoped you’d finally message your girlfriend. the silence of your shared apartment as minji looks out, the day hasn’t ended yet (it’s only 11 am and she has already lost it). then hearing the very familiar voice that is her ringtone of you calling her “darling! i’m stuck inside your phone!” she answered it immediately. hanni and wonyoung could only look at their friend as if she was a rabid animal who hasn’t eaten in weeks.

“son y/n! why weren’t you answering my messages?”

“i’m sorry, i got caught up with the cases mom made me read and my phone was on dnd then-” you rambled on about your fake excuse that was being overworked by your own mother as mina tried her best not to laugh at your stressed state while in the elevator to your place.

“fine, i’ll let it slide just this once.”

“sorry, darling - but i did send something for you.” right on time the doorbell to your place rang, minji headed towards the door to check on who it was, only to see mina and a suitcase next to her. a very familiar suitcase. mina was lowkey nervous as you stand by the doorbell camera of your place making sure you’re not in the picture as minji opens the door. a sad smile on her face while she held onto her phone and greeted mina.

“a certain someone wanted you to have this.” minji wasn’t dense but hearing mina’s voice echo in the other line - she assumed you would be somewhere within the area and upon checking outside. there you stood with a cake and bouquet at hand while your phone was on speaker.

“happy birthday, darling.” even if miles apart, you wouldn’t miss your girl’s birthday even if it meant flying for hours on end just to be there on time.

love keeps you smiling all day.

things have always been light and fun between you two. minji loves how you’re considered as one of the most serious people she knows but behind it is someone who has been through a lot as a child. that’s one of the reasons why minji loves you.

seeing your childlike wonder whenever you’re at home keeping yourself entertained with legos that you’ve built through your own imagination, sometimes joking about proposing with a lego box ring. one she found cute and quite hard to hide if that were your plan. minji watches you build a house that you’ve deemed as your dream house once you’ve saved enough money and have graduated. a modern house somewhere in canada as minji mentioned wanting to settle there in the future and seeing you incorporate that into something as small as building a lego house. she can’t help but admire you with a small smile on her face as you rambled on what rooms you wanted.

“so, you see us together in the future?” you hummed in response as you looked for a piece, one that minji noticed was stuck to your arm.

“well, yeah. i’m dating you to marry. i’m not letting go of the best thing i can call mine.”

“are you asking me to marry you in the subtlest way possible, baby?”

minji moved closer to you, finally taking the piece stuck on your arm and handing it to you. a smile on her face as you thanked her, finishing the lego house with the minifigures you had made months prior.

“if the time is right, i’ll be down on one knee and asking for your hand in marriage.” minji felt your lips on her cheek as you put the lego house in the middle of the table. “for now, we can only plan for the future.”

“like the lego house you built?”

“yup. i’ll give you a quick tour of what our possible house could be.”

minji loves it when you do the simplest of things, even if some would say its childish for a grown woman to play with legos while studying law and her girlfriend studying hard to be a doctor. you’ve changed for the better and minji adores that she gets to be there every step of the way. 

watching how your eyes would only look at her despite your classmates who have tried their best to make you look at them.

how you never leave the house without checking if she’s down to go out with you to do errands (the answer is always yes).

how despite living in the same place and seeing each other almost everyday for years, you’re not sick of her.

“so tell me more about that lego house of ours.” minji has always loved how you always planned the future with her in mind, even before you had confessed.

love makes you look at how beautiful the whole world is.

it was a given fact that you and minji are busy with your own work. let alone, she became an ambassador for Chanel and you’re proud of the girl who is currently within your arms in the city of love. having quite a peaceful picnic date with your girlfriend near the eiffel tower. the place might be noisy, a few insects here and there but minji’s mind is occupied by the girl sitting next to her taking her pictures with her film camera. a huge smile on her face as you take her picture, one that will be printed and placed on your board filled with pictures from your trips.

if you were with anyone else, you would have probably chosen a different date spot with how crowded the place is but seeing minji happy as you talk about her experience with paris fashion week or how you got the chance to meet one of mina’s closest friends who minji has already met before.

“how cliche would it be if someone proposed here, right now?” minji looked at you as if you were planning on proposing let alone, you had a conversation about the future the past year while you were building a lego house.

“quite cliche and neither of us would want to have a public proposal.”

“mhmm.. speaking of proposals. chaeyoung-unnie is finally going to do it.”

your entire date had been about everything related to love, with how you started and how dense minji was in high school to not notice your heart eyes directed at her or the way how you managed to trick minji into confessing first. in the eyes of kim minji, anywhere with you would be a beautiful view - even if you did see a rat running at the foot of the eiffel tower.

“oh, it’s remy.”

“ew.”

whatever love is, minji has no definitive answer - as long as you’re in the picture, minji considers it as love.

even if you’re outside of the apartment holding your belongings and ready to say goodbye. with a sad smile - minji knows in some way you’ll come back even if it means leaving her alone

in your shared apartment, in the middle of the table was the lego house you had built for you two. there she stood, eyes on the simple building you had made as she looked out of the balcony of your apartment with your back turned and bags being put into your car. minji knows you’ll be back.

“girl, will you stop crying. you’ll see her in a week. it’s only chaeyoung-unnie’s bridal shower. then the wedding.” hanni had watched minji look out the balcony as you waved goodbye and drove away to the airport to meet up with your sister.

this little thing might seem a bit too much for hanni, but to minji this was a huge step for your sister and you were needed every step of the way as the maid of honor. 

even while on the plane talking to your sister and her friends, with a velvet box in your pocket that you had recently claimed from rei. one that you had asked to be customized but your proposal can wait - for now you’re here to celebrate your sister who is about to get married in Japan.

“nervous?” chaeyoung could only nod as she pats your hand that was placed on top of the armchair.

“aren’t you? between the two of us, you literally have an engagement ring in your pocket along with my wedding ring.” you smiled as you show the velvet box that you’ve been holding onto.

“one thing for sure, unnie, i wanna spend the rest of my life with minji.”

[happilyhertale]

I have an aemond targaryen x reader fic idea in mind for ya! what about an aemond x fem!reader in which the two have always had a close friendship with each other since they were children, similar to alicent and rhaenyra's (reader would, of course, be the daughter of rhaenyra). the two would ride on dragonback together and do things childhood friends always did. although, that friendship crumbles after the terrible night that aemond lost his eye and the day reader is named heir to the throne.

years later, reader returns with her family as queen and with her dragon in tow. aemond and her reunite. not once did the two ever forget each other, aemond spent days and nights thinking of his best friend while reader dreamed of seeing the wonders of the world with him, maybe even more.

slight angst, fluff and smut pls? 💜💜💜

(also, I know her being queen probably doesn't make sense timeline wise but...yeah!)

Everlasting love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This One Shot Story was requested by the wonderful @chainsawsangel💜

And is at the same time the steamy Aemond one shot as a thank you for 1000 followers 🖤

I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, soo.. please forgive me if I made any mistakes (: 18+ NSFW

Word count: 5.8 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You came into this world on a warm and radiant summer day. The sun shone brilliantly above, and the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs of Dragonstone echoed in the distance. You were the first precious offspring of your mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and your father, Laenor Velaryon. Thankfully, the birth went smoothly, and just a few days later, your family returned to King's Landing.

You were born not long after Aemond Targaryen, the second prince of the realm. The two of you were said to be very close as infants. Aemond was quite a restless baby and needed a lot of comfort, which often kept Queen Alicent up at night. To give her a break, Aemond was placed in the care of nurses. However, they had great difficulty calming him down and simply got used to the constant crying.

Rhaenyra was deeply pained to witness the suffering of the newborn baby, who also happened to be her half-brother. Unable to bear the sight any longer, she devised a plan to ease his distress - by placing you, a peaceful and attentive infant, in the cradle with him.

She gently placed you next to Aemond in the cradle. At first, you felt a bit annoyed when you saw him, but Aemond's crying immediately stopped. He became interested in you and studied you closely, eventually even giving a small smile. Rhaenyra was pleased to see this and watched over the two of you with contentment. And thus, the two of you rested together in the cozy cradle.

As you rested in your cradle, nestled alongside two dragon eggs, the space felt a bit snug. But every time someone tried to take one of you out of the cradle, the other immediately started to cry.

When you were just six years old, your dragon egg finally hatched in the comfort of your cozy chambers. As you sat by the warm fire, you kept the egg close to ensure your new companion would feel just as snug as it would have with its birth mother.

As you were quietly flipping through the pages of a book, you heard a sudden cracking sound. At first, you assumed it was just the sound of the wood in the fireplace. But the sound repeated itself, followed by a piercing scream that filled the air.

Startled, you looked up and saw a small dragon facing you. You cried out with joy and hurriedly crawled towards the egg. A guard came in because he was startled by your sudden cry. But you paid no attention to him, you were overjoyed. You helped your dragon to free himself from the egg. You broke down the hard shell to make it easier for her to come out. You held out your hand to her and she climbed up. The joy on your face was evident and didn't fade away.

You carried the dragon in your arms and went directly to Aemond's chambers. He was overjoyed for you and enamored with the tiny creature.

You two spent the whole evening saying "Dracarys", hoping it would breathe fire, but nothing happened. You giggled incessantly. When Rhaenyra came to put you to bed, you both persuaded her. You wanted to sleep in bed with Aemond and your dragon with you. Your mother was not at all pleased, but eventually gave in.

You cuddled up with Aemond in his bed, with your dragon nestled between you both. She lay curled up like a small kitten, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

"What are you going to name him?" whispered Aemond to you.

"Him? I think it's a girl..," you chuckled.

Aemond rolled his eyes, "Very well, what do you want to call her?"

You smiled, "I've thought of a few names... But I think Blackfyre is a good name"

Aemond chuckled, "An interesting choice... but I think it's good"

Aemond's dragon egg never hatched. Although you tried to provide him with positive encouragement by explaining that hatching is out of one's control and that some dragon eggs don't hatch at all, it was still very difficult for him to accept this outcome.

But every time you entered the dragonpit, Aemond would accompany you. He was there when you gave Blackfyre her first orders and it pleased him to see how obediently she responded.

He was also there when Blackfyre had her first meal. Each time you both visited, Aemond's happiness was palpable. As a result, Blackfyre grew accustomed to having both of you around.

And so you were with him when your brothers and Aegon surprised him with the pink dread. You were shocked that they would treat Aemond so badly. You comforted Aemond afterwards. He didn't deserve that. But he was deeply depressed. You then argued with your brothers and told them how stupid they were.

And so you sneaked into the hall before dinner. No one else was in the hall yet, but the table was already set. You quickly went to Aegon's place and saw the wine jug. You managed to catch some pee from Blackfyre in the afternoon. It wasn't much, as most of it ran down your hand, but it would do. Now you stood at Aegon's place and poured the dragon pee into the jug. You grinned. Quickly you looked around again before pulling snot up deep from your throat and spitting it into the jug as well. Hearing footsteps from outside, you quickly scurried to your seat. You hear the heavy wooden door open with a loud creak. You look at the door and smile. Your grandsire, King Viserys, came into the hall. With him were Lord Otto and Queen Alicent. Lord Otto and King Viserys seemed to be talking. Queen Alicent smiled at you.

"Hello my sweet," she said softly as she passed you. Queen Alicent was always kind to you. Often she caught you and Aemond trying to steal cakes or biscuits before dinner. But instead of telling your mother about your inappropriate behaviour, she would put on a stern face, let you keep your loot and quickly send you away before anyone else could see you. "Your Highness," you replied with a smile.

When Aemond came into the hall at some point, he still looked sad. He quietly took a seat beside you, seeming lost in thought. Soon after, Aegon arrived and took his own seat. You had been observing him attentively.

"What are you staring at?!" he snapped at you.

"Don't talk to her like that!" suddenly rang out from Aemond.

"Oooh... do you have to be strong in front of her now..." but Queen Alicent interrupted him.

"Aegon! Stop it, now!" she said sternly.

Aegon just snorted and poured himself some wine.

You slowly leaned over to Aemond, "Watch Aegon," you whispered.

"Why?", Aemond asked you irritated.

Aegon put his cup to his lips.

"I might have added some dragon's pee and snot in his wine," you said quietly.

Aemond laughed out loud, causing everyone to turn and look at the source of the noise. You held back a laugh, as you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. Meanwhile, Aegon had emptied his cup and was already pouring himself another drink. He seemed annoyed as he looked in your direction.

Aemond chuckled softly. He looked at you sweetly, "Thank you," he said softly to you. You grinned.

By the time you were ten years old, Blackfyre was big enough to ride. She was a big dragon that grew very fast. Your mother was strictly against you riding Blackfyre. She simply wanted to ensure your safety and was worried that you might accidentally slip off the dragon's back.

But it didn't stop you from riding Blackfyre. Of course you took Aemond with you. Blackfyre was the first dragon you and Aemond rode.

One day, word arrived that Laena Velaryon had passed away. She had made the difficult decision to end her life as a dragon rider during a difficult childbirth. You are now expected to journey to Driftmark to pay your respects at her funeral.

Before you left, you were with Aemond when his father, King Viserys, told him that they would travel to Dragonstone after the funeral. He said that Aemond could claim a dragon there if he was bold enough.

You quickly took hold of Aemond's hand to offer comfort. Although he didn't say anything, you could sense the hurt in his eyes caused by his father's words.

"Don't listen to him," you told Aemond afterwards, "He is indeed the king... but he is not always right. He does not know you. And of course you would be bold enough! You could claim any dragon!"

Aemond had to smile. But you still saw the disappointment in his gaze.

When you were on Driftmark for the funeral, everything happened very quickly. Aemond had no intention of travelling to Dragonstone. He wanted Vhagar. And he got Vhagar.

In the evening he sat with you in your chambers. He had promised that he would sneak into your chambers at night when everyone was asleep. But you only saw him again in the hall. In the middle of the night you woke up. Aemond was not in your chambers, but you heard loud conversations and shouting. Cautiously you got up. Quietly you went out into the corridor. You followed the voices and arrived at the hall. Everyone was gathered there. And then you saw Aemond. He was injured. A maester was sewing something in his eye. You went to him, but were held back by Daemon. He held you back with his arm and looked down at you. He just shook his head gently and pushed you carefully behind his big body. You didn't even take your eyes off Aemond.

Instead, you snuck into his chambers at night. He was lying on his bed, asleep. He had been given a lot of poppy juice, yet he had whimpered in his sleep. You climbed onto his bed and wrapped your little arms around him. He slowly stopped whimpering. You still had a calming effect on him, as you did in the cradle.

At bedtime, you made a habit of applying ointment to his scar to help ease the pain and aid in the healing process. Unfortunately, the maesters who had been assisting with this task were not gentle and caused Aemond to flinch in pain. One night, it became unbearable and Aemond was on the verge of tears. Feeling frustrated, you took matters into your own hands the following evening and took the ointment from the maester without saying a word.

"Princess. I must apply the ointment to Prince Aemond. You don't know how to do that"

"You are rough in applying it. You will not touch his scar again", you replied.

"Princess..." but you interrupted him.

"I have already successfully commanded Blackfyre to breathe fire. Would you like to feel that?", you looked coldly at him.

The maester paused. Then he tilted his head slightly and left the chambers.

Aemond sat speechless on the bed.

"You... You don't have to do this..." he finally said quietly.

"Oooh... don't be silly," you replied.

You went to the bed where he was resting, took some ointment from the bowl with your fingers, and gently spread it on his scar. Aemond had closed his good eye tightly, seemingly bracing himself for pain, but to his surprise, it didn't hurt. Gradually he opened his eye and saw you smiling at him with tenderness.

"Better?" you asked softly. He gave a small nod of his head, and from that moment forward, you diligently applied the soothing ointment that had been provided by the maester.

You also encouraged him that he is still the great person he was before the accident. You stood by his side and helped him to overcome his insecurities, even going so far as to help him regain his confidence with a sword.

In fact, you just kept hitting him with the wooden sword until he had enough of it and finally picked up a wooden sword and hit back. It was a challenging process, but you never stopped encouraging him to keep going but to continue now more than ever. To learn anew how he has to attack with the sword. At what angle the opponent must never stand so that he could see him well. And he did not give up.

During the day you encouraged him and at night you held him.

You still went to the dragonpit together regularly. But now Vhagar was with you. Together you often rode your dragons. Vhagar is bigger than Blackfyre, but not by much. Together you explored the skies. Only the rumbling of the dragons and your giggling could be heard from the air. Often you sat in the dragonpit afterwards. You had been lying in the dirt, hiding behind your dragons. But you enjoyed it. You sat there for hours and imagined all the things you wanted to discover. Where you wanted to travel. Of course you want to explore everything with your dragons. Perhaps one day you will fly to Essos. See the remains of Valyria.

When you are six and ten years old, you have been named heir to the throne. You have been chosen as the successor to your mother's throne, which comes as a surprise to you. Even though you are the eldest child, you had always assumed that your younger sibling Jace would inherit the crown. You're now uncertain about whether you're ready to take on the responsibilities of ruling as queen.

Aemond was still very close to you. You even sleep in bed together from time to time. It's just that it's felt a little different now. You had noticed that you often just look at him. As soon as you noticed it, you felt uncomfortable and your cheeks turned red.

Aemond was a little more subtle in his approach. He liked to watch you when you were asleep. When the moon shone into the room and made your silver hair glow. Sometimes he even dared to gently stroke your cheek. Just so he could see you gently wrinkling your nose in your sleep.

When you received the news that you were to become queen, you went straight to Aemond. Aemond was very happy for you, as usual. And in the evening, he surprised you. He came into your chambers through the secret passages, carrying two wine jugs.

"We must celebrate your becoming heir to the throne," he grinned at you. You had to chuckle softly.

You drank almost all the wine and lay together on your bed. Not a minute passed in silence, you talked the whole time. Until he suddenly looked straight at you, "You know... I like to watch you sleep..," His cheeks were red from all the wine, but you saw them get even redder, "..Because when you lie on this side in bed..", He pointed with his hand to the side of the bed facing the window, "..the moon shines on you... And...", he paused and you looked into each other's eyes. He sighed quitley.

"I love you... y/n.. I don't know since when... But... it feels like...", but you just kissed him.

He was irritated at first, but didn't hesitate long and returned the kiss. His lips felt warm and soft. The taste of the wine was on his lips. Your lips were sore and red when you first broke the kiss. You just looked at each other and smiled. You have not said much. Aemond's hand was on your cheek. Slowly he stroked your cheek with his fingers. His thumb gently caressed your lips. Until he leaned forward again and you kissed once more. You couldn't ignore the warmth and pinching between your thighs any longer and slid closer to him. But you broke the kiss again. You looked at each other, your breathing was rapid. Aemond gently stroked your arms. No one said anything. You looked deep into each other's eyes and somehow it seemed clear, you both wanted the same thing. Aemond kissed you gently and rolled onto you carefully. As he lay on top of you and pressed his hips against you, you felt something hard. It pressed right against your warm core. But it felt strangely good when Aemond pressed his hips against you. A soft moan came from you.

That night you sleep together. He was your first man. You were both inexperienced and so you both explored your bodies together. You undressed each other. You let your hands wander over each other's bodies. Every time your hands discovered a new spot, soft moans and gasps filled your chambers. You giggled a lot and kissed a lot more. It was indescribably beautiful. The act itself, when he was finally inside you, didn't last long. But you will never forget how much you felt connected to him all the time.

Aemond held you all night. He lay close to your back. You felt his chest against your body. How it slowly rose and fell. Again and again he gently kissed your neck.

The next morning, as usual, he was no longer there. At dawn he always left your chambers secretly so as not to be caught.

At noon a servant came to you, your mother wished to see you. When you arrived to meet her, she informed you that you would be temporarily relocating to Dragonstone. While she didn't provide any specific reasons, she did explain that this would be an opportunity for you to receive the necessary training and preparation to eventually assume the throne.

But you did not want to go.

"Mother... no... I will not leave the capital," you told her.

"Yes, you will. On Dragonstone you will be prepared to rule the realm one day"

You snorted, "Why can't I be prepared for that here? Here, I could see first-hand how the decisions of the realm are made"

You felt yourself getting angry.

Your mother had shaken her head slightly, "To understand these political decisions, you must first understand the political theories on which these decisions are based. Then you can deal with making decisions. And on Dragonstone, you don't need to fear any distractions"

Tears came to your eyes. But you refused to cry now. You knew your mother and the look in her eyes. The discussion was over.

You went to see Aemond. In his chambers you told him about it.

He simply looked at you. For the first time you could not interpret the look on his face.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked quietly.

Silence reigned in his chambers.

"I... I don't know... My mother said it would be the right thing... To prepare me for my regency... I... I don't know...", you were unsettled.

Aemond clenched his hands into fists, "But you must know if you want to go!"

Aemond was feeling very worried and anxious. He was afraid of losing you because you were the most important and positive aspect of his life.

"Then tell me to stay!" you suddenly shouted at him. You were angry. Those you don't want to hear it from tell you what to do. And the one person you wish would tell you what to do doesn't tell you what to do... that you should stay.

But he just looks at you, "You know I can't do that... I can't say that... You have to do what is right," he said almost coldly. He had to pull himself together not to cross the room, to take you in his arms. He wanted you to stay... that he was the right one for you.

But you understood it differently. That he didn't want you to stay.

So you just nodded, "Very well... If that's what you want. Then I'll go"

Tears welled up in your eyes. He said your name, but you just left his chambers.

That night Aemond did not come to your chambers.

You spend the next few years on Dragonstone. You actually had enough time there to prepare for your duties as queen by studying and learning political theory. However, you can't help but wonder if you could have achieved the same level of preparation by staying in King's Landing and discussing these topics with Aemond…

You miss Aemond. Terribly much. Your memories of your last night together are beautiful, but the fact that you were torn apart makes it all the more difficult to bear. You often lie awake for hours. You long for the times when Aemond would come to your bed and you could talk for hours. You miss his embrace... Whenever you receive a letter from King's Landing, you hope to hear something about Aemond, but unfortunately, you don't get any news. You're afraid to reach out to him because you don't want to be rejected, even though you can't stand the silence.

Meanwhile, Aemond is suffering just as much as you are. He longs for you and misses you dearly. He can't sleep at night because he constantly thinks about you. He is restless at night. He is restless because he yearns for your physical presence - your body, warmth, and gentle breathing beside him.

He needs your presence and comfort by his side. He remembers when he told you to do the right thing and go away, and those words still haunt him to this day. He wishes he could take it back and instead ask you to stay.

But now the time had come for you to go back to King's Landing. Your grandsire, King Viserys, is getting worse and your mother is to take the throne after his death. The flight to King's Landing is quiet. The wind blows through your hair as you watch the water pass beneath you. Blackfyre enjoys the flight. Your brothers and your stepfather Daemon are flying with you. And then you see it in the distance. The walls of the capital appear in the distance.

Aemond is in the library. He is sitting by the window reading a book. When a shadow passes in the sky, he looks up. He sees a big dragon in the sky and it is not Vhagar. A smile curls his lips. He is paralysed for a moment, but then he slams the book shut and gets up from his chair.

As you and your family are welcomed into the courtyard, Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena smile at you. Aemond is not to be seen. You smile politely, but the thought spreads through your mind that Aemond might not want to see you.

But Aemond is too excited. His hands tremble slightly. Like the night you made love for the first time. He walks towards the dragonpit, he wants to ride Vhagar. But when he arrives at the dragonpit, he is distracted. He sees Blackfyre and has to smile. He pauses for a moment as Blackfyre slowly turns her head in his direction. Cautiously, he walks towards Blackfyre, slowly raising his hand. She recognises him and grumbles slightly. As he stands beside her, he gently strokes her neck. He immediately feels her warmth flooding his palm.

"Rytsas gevie...", he whispers (Hello beautiful). She grumbles slightly again.

"Gaomagon ao remember nyke?" he says softly with a smile on his lips (Do you remember me)

When suddenly another voice sounds.

"Sīr ao sepār dekuragon bē naejot iā strange zaldrīzes?" you stand behind him (So you just step up to a strange dragon)

He stiffens for a moment.

"Issa daor bona strange..," he replies without turning around (She's not that strange..)

You have to smile as he slowly turns around. He smiles too and you are speechless. He has grown into an impressive man. Even through his clothes you can see that his slim, tall body must have more muscles. His hair is longer and falls over his shoulder. It is tied slightly so that it does not fall in his face. The scar looks much better, it seems to have healed.

"Have you taken care of your scar?" you ask gently.

He nods slightly. The smile does not leave his lips.

"With the ointment... that I... applied every night?", you whisper.

He nods again, "The maesters wanted to try another one in the meantime... But I didn't want to..." he says softly.

You smile softly.

He slowly approaches you and takes you in his arms without hesitation. You put your arms around his body.

"I missed you," he whispers.

You just nod, wanting to hold back the tears.

After a while he leans back, looks you in the face, "And... have you learned how to rule?" he smiles at you.

You laugh lightly, "Oh get ready for something... my brain has been fed so much information..."

He chuckles softly, "I'm curious..."

You sit down behind Blackfyre, leaning against the walls of the dragonpit and talk. Just like you did when you were children.

When all of a sudden he looks at you, "You know... So much has happened. In the time that you weren't there"

You nod slightly, "I know..." you say softly.

He lets his hands slide over his thighs and sighs. His gaze is fixed on the floor, "I am to wed a Baratheon daughter," he says softly.

It is quiet in the dragonpit. Your chest tightens. It is hard for you to breathe. You have expected this, but still you do not know how to deal with it.

As he slowly turns his gaze to you to see your reaction, you just nod slowly.

Tears welling up in your eyes. Your eyes burn and your throat tightens. You clear your throat. You don't want him to see you like this. When he looks at the floor again, you quickly wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

After a few moments you catch yourself, "And...? Do you want to wed her?" you ask quietly.

He snorts, "You know very well that I don't want to..."

You nod again, "Yes... But we have to do what's right..."

You look at him and he looks you straight in the eye. At first you see pure pain in his gaze, when suddenly his gaze warms.

He nods slowly, "Fuck it, yeah. I have to do the right thing," he says suddenly.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. The love he had for you inside him had build to its maximum, beyond the point of logic or reason, and he gave himself over to you. His mind and heart become one as the two of you kissed. The world around you seemed to disappear, and all that mattered was the feeling of your body against his, and the taste of your lips against his.

You are startled at first. You feel the emotions in this kiss, how Aemond gives himself to you. But you can't help yourself, you return his kiss and pull him towards you. His hand is on your neck, his thumb gently strokes your cheek as he deepens the kiss. His touch... his hand on your neck, his lips on yours... It is all you feel. He is so close to you in that moment. Your lips, your mouths... You breath your breath into each other's. There are no word's, there is only your kiss.

Slowly you undo the buckles of his waistcoat. You interrupt the kiss. Your lips are reddish from your passionate kisses. You kiss gently along his jaw, down to his neck. nibbling lightly on the soft skin. You hear him moan lightly. Your breath is warm against his neck and your lips on his skin were like a flame.

He takes your face in his hands, you look into each other's eyes. You are breathing heavily. He pulls you close, gently kisses your nose. His hands slide from your face down to your shoulders, slowly he starts to open your dress. Gently he slips your dress over your shoulder. His lips follow his fingers. Soft kisses find their way onto your collarbone. He slides your dress further down and his lips leave a fiery trail on your skin. You moan softly as his lips are on your breast, gently cupping your nipple. He moves his tongue over one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth. You gasp out and again a moan comes from your lips. Gently he sucks on the sensitive skin. His teeth lightly graze your nipple and he bites down gently. You hiss slightly and your hands slide into his hair, you grab him by the hair and pull him closer to you.

His hands pull your dress further down. You feel your arousal rising between your legs. You press your thighs together a little, hoping to experience some satisfaction. You take his face in your hands, pull him to you and kiss him greedily, you are panting. You feel him grinning against your lips. Carefully you bite his lip. He hisses and you chuckle lightly. Your hands slide down his chest and undo more buckles on his waistcoat. He takes off his waistcoat and lays it on the dusty ground. You sit down on the waistcoat and watch him take off his vest. Your gaze immediately falls on his upper body. On his soft skin that now has a few more scars. But you also notice that his upper body is really more defined. You bite your lip lightly. You take hold of his neck and pull him towards you. Wild kisses of a dance of tongues and teeth follow. Blackfyre moves slightly beside you. But she turns a little further in front of you so that you are shielded from all possible glances and her gaze is directed towards the entrance.

Aemond gently pushes you to the ground and kneels between your legs. His kisses become softer and you feel him gently slide his fingers up your thigh. You moan into his mouth as his fingers slide through your wet folds without warning.

"Mmmh... you really missed me," he says softly.

You try to bite his lip again, but he pulls his head away quickly enough and grins. Instead he lets his fingers continue to slide through your folds, spreading your arousal along them. You whimper.

He kisses you again as he leaves gentle but firm circles on your pearl. Your breathing becomes heavier.

"Aemond... please..." you gasp against his lips.

His fingers are instantly away from your folds and you hear a buckle open. Almost immediately you feel the tip of his hard cock slide through your folds. His gaze is fixed precisely on the tip of his cock soaking itself with your arousal. He groans at the sight. He looks at you again and sees you biting your lower lip. He leans forward, devouring more of your kisses. Slowly he pushes forward, guides his hot length into you. You both moan as he pushes further in. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size. Slowly he pushes forward, he gasps.

"Seven hells... you're so tight," he whispers, breathing heavily.

You only whimper. The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming.

He continues to thrust, penetrating you further with each thrust. You move your hips rhythmically towards him to meet his thrusts on the way. His thrusts get harder and your breasts bounce every time his pelvis slams into yours. He grunts deeply and grips one of your breasts with his hand. Lightly he squeezes it and bends down. His thrusts don't let up as he encircles your nipple again with his mouth. You cry out and grab his arms.

He looks up at you, "My love... do you want us to get caught?" he whispers.

You bite your lips. He turns his attention back to your nipple. Lets his tongue glide gently around before he nibbles lightly on it again. He moans softly as he notices your walls clench slightly around him. He lets go of your nipple and kisses you again. He leans back a little, gently grips your thigh and wraps it around his waist. You cry out again and try to muffle it in his neck. His thrusts become harder. His eye is closed and he moans deeply as he buries himself in you to the hilt of his cock. Again and again he pushes against your sweet spot. You lie under him and just whimper. You reach for his arms and dig your fingernails into his biceps. "Aemond..." you gasp, "deeper..."

He opens his eye, but the purple in his eye is almost unrecognisable. His eye is blown with lust. Wordlessly he takes your leg from his hip and places it along his torso. Your foot rests on his shoulder and he leans further down towards you.

"Oooh... Fuuuck...", you gasp.

Each thrust hurts, but the pain feels so good. You are convinced that he is going to split you. With a brutal speed, he thrusts into you. With each thrust, his balls slap against your ass and are soaked with your arousal. You whimper as you feel the pressure building in your lower belly.

"I... I'm... so close..." you moan.

Aemond reaches between your bodies and applies pressure to your clit. He notices you clenching hard around his cock.

"Love... come... cum on my cock...", he grunts deeply.

With that he pushes you over the edge. You cry out. He tries to muffle your moans by enclosing your lips with his. Your fingers dig deep into his shoulder. Your walls want to pull his cock in further, want to milk him. He feels his balls twitch. He pulls his cock out of you as he feels his cock start to twitch too. You whimper slightly at the sudden emptiness. He moans and grunts deeply, spreading his seed in the dirt beside you. You are both breathing heavily. Slowly you let your leg slide off his shoulder. Aemond smiles at you, breathing heavily. He looks exhausted, but he is smiling. He lies down beside you.

You look at him and whisper, breathing heavily, "That was better than the first time"

You look at each other for a moment before you both laugh. You turn to him and he puts his arms around you.

After a while, you look up at him, "And... have you seen your betrothed yet?"

He chuckles softly, "No... not yet..."

You smile slightly, "Will you..."

"...I'm not going to wed her," he interrupts you. You look at him, he gently strokes your cheek.

"I don't know how yet. But I will talk to my mother... I..." you notice how he is almost hesitant, almost shy.

"You want to ask if you can wed me?" you ask softly.

He looks at you slightly uncertainly, "Well... If... If you don't want to..."

You just kiss him, "Silly boy..." you whisper.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[featherandferns]

fascinating new thing : where are they now?

jj maybank x shy!kook!reader | see these inbox messages for points of inspiration: 1 2 3

word count: 2k.

read fascinating new thing | Thank you so so much for 1000 followers!!! Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics so far…

It’s times like these - standing on an obnoxiously over-sized stage, staring out at more people than you can count who have been screaming your name and your lyrics for the past two hours - when your life feels particularly surreal. You wonder if you’ll ever get used to the feeling of hearing your songs on the radio, or seeing someone break down in tears in the front row of your gig, or scrolling through Twitter and Instagram to find fan-edits galore. Maybe it would be the same as the anxiety, which shrunk just the smallest amount with every show.

Despite your crippling social skills, you never feared the stage. It was the only place where you felt truly comfortable in yourself. You were sure that it helped having Pansy by your side, even now. Whenever you feel yourself slipping away, you’d grapple at the microphone with one hand as if it were a buoy and you were floating helplessly in the middle of the sea, and then you’d look to Pansy. Her wildness from youth hasn't disappeared despite the years and fame. She grins at you just the same as always. Celebrates every concert and every milestone with the same fever that she did when you first played at the Wreck. 

As you neared your twenty-second birthday, you had three official albums released into the world. The latest had made the Billboard charts. Whilst the lyrics flourished, and the production improved, and the vocality developed, one thing stayed the same: JJ was almost always at the forefront of your mind. 

The fans were almost as obsessed with JJ as you. You were gobsmacked the first time you saw some ‘stalker pics’ of the two of you on a date. Whenever he’d make it to one of your shows (which he always tried to do), the fans would have eagle vision and try to spot him. Gauge his reactions and document his pride. And, boy, was he proud. He showed you off like a diamond ring; boasted about you at work and at the surf break. Brought you up in any and all conversations (at least according to the Pogues). One video in particular went viral. Some paparazzi guy had caught him in the street when he was running errands in Kildare. It still felt bizarre to have paparazzi chasing you and your loved ones down. They asked him what he thought of the songs on your latest album. In the video, JJ pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, smirking. They’re all about me, man: what’s not to like about it.  

After seeing the overwhelming positive reaction to you and your boyfriend, you’d started to acknowledge him openly at shows. It wasn’t that you hadn’t taken notice of him before. He was always there - calming you down before and grounding you after - and you always sought him out. Couldn’t settle until you knew where he was. But now, instead of a fleeting glance and a shy smile, you would point him out. Slyly giving a nod to him when announcing the next song: this one’s about a certain someone - you know who you are. The fans ate it up but more importantly, JJ loved it. 

And whilst having thousands of random strangers screaming your songs at you was an insurmountable feeling that you couldn’t ever place into words, it would never top the experience of singing your songs to JJ. He heard them first. Every single one. 

“Come on then,” JJ says, flopping beside you on the sofa. Despite all the money you’d garnered, the two of you stayed in the Cut on Kildare. You always preferred it over Figure Eight. “Let’s hear it.”

“It’s not done yet,” you tell him as you tune your acoustic guitar. 

JJ stuffs another one of your home baked cookies into his mouth with a roll of his eyes. “Like I’d care.”

You smile bashfully at that. You sometimes wondered if JJ was as happy for you as he seemed to be. The fame and money and attention on you hadn’t changed you - at least you didn’t think it had - but it had changed the world around you. That was out of your control. What people said about you, about him, about your relationship and your life together - you didn’t have any control over that. Your schedule became busy with studio sessions and meetings and practice and touring. Hell, there were already musings of doing a tour in Europe next year. You imagined it to be a lot for JJ; would be enough to build resentment in Mother Teresa. But he begged to hear your songs. Tagged along to rehearsals and snuck into the studio. Made it to as many concerts as his job allowed. 

Besides, it wasn’t like JJ was without fame. Himself and the Pogues had found El Do-freaking-rado whilst you and The Wallflowers had been gaining traction. Now he had his dream surf shop which kept him occupied. The financial stability that your combined enterprises allowed meant life was easy to enjoy. And enjoy it, you did. 

You take a tentative strum of the guitar strings, clearing your throat and mind. Glancing down to watch your fingers take placement for the first chord, you begin to play the melody. You could feel JJ’s gaze on you, steady and unwavering, and despite your long-standing relationship, it still made you feel as giddy as the first night at The Wreck. 

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January…”

You begin to sing. Hesitant at first (as if you’d never played for him before), then confident as the song went on. The lyrics which were still in the scaffolding stages were replaced with half-formed words in melodic hums. You could see JJ’s foot tapping along to the beat in your peripheral vision and it made you smile, serene and sweet, safe in the bubble the two of you had created in the two bedroomed house by the marsh. 

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever. Take me out and take me home.”

Looking up at him, you find his smile mirrors yours. The emotion in his eyes is saved only for you. You get his wildness, his mood swings, his recklessness, his devotion and his love. You get all of him. 

“You’re my, my, my, my…Lover.”

JJ chuckles at that, clearly flustered. Again, after all these years, you can’t believe you of all people have that effect on him. You continue the song, giggling as you trip over a chord, lost in his gaze, heart thrumming happily. He plays into some lyrics, twisting the amorous moment into the most magical of lights. 

“You’ll save all your dirtiest jokes me for me.” 

JJ smiles proudly, crossing his heart as if making a promise. You manage the next line out through your laughter. 

“And at every table, I’ll save you a seat. Lover…”

You conclude the song with a final, definitive strum. JJ erupts into applause, whooping and hollering like he was at a Red Sox game or something. You laugh, bashful, and unhook your guitar from around you. 

“Best damn song you’ve ever written!”

“You say that about all the songs,” you reply, brushing off his compliment. Yes, it seems JJ’s so-called lifelong venture of getting you to accept a compliment was still underway. 

“That going on the new album?” JJ asks. He leans forward to the coffee table, passing your half-full glass of wine to you. 

You nod. “We’re working on the track-list now, actually.”

“You gonna sneak that song in there about Kiara and Pansy?”

“I think Pansy would kill me if I didn’t,” you reply back, making JJ laugh. He nods, making a face of ‘yeah, you’re probably right there’ and sips his beer.

Pansy and Kie hooking up didn’t catch anyone by surprise. It was sweet seeing them so loved up. So, you broke your tradition of writing songs purely about JJ for her. In fact, you’d been branching out more and more, writing about other people and other things. Mike and his now ex-girlfriend, and the world’s messiest break-up, were the basis to one of your best selling tracks: We Are Never Getting Back Together. The sudden rise to fame and all the prying eyes and ears that came with it was inspiration to another from the same album: Nothing New. And now Kie and Pansy, with It’s Nice to Have a Friend.  

Carefully leaning your guitar against the sofa, you place your wine down and shuffle to cuddle into JJ’s hold. His fingers leisurely stroke your hairline, teasing at your hair. No matter the money, he wore the same cologne. He’d tried fancier but after you admitted that it didn’t smell like him somehow, he went back to the old, cheap stuff. 

“I’m real proud of you, y’know?” 

“I know,” you mumble, smiling into his t-shirt. 

“And I’m always gonna be here for you, right? Through the good and the bad?”

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, a little worried as to where this was coming from. 

JJ takes in a breath. It sounds almost anxious and tense. Then, he’s shuffling around, digging for something in his back pocket, and you’re left with no choice but to move off him. Sitting back on your haunches, you watch him with furrowed brows. They knit tighter when he lowers himself onto the wooden floorboards. And then all of a sudden, in the cosy, lamp-lit living room of your shared home, you watch the literal man of your childhood dreams reveal a black velvet box. 

He swallows thickly. His fingers shake as he struggles to open the box. Looking up at you, anxiety swimming in his eyes (which were the inspiration to countless songs), JJ gives a mousy smile. He breathes out your name like reading an ancient, honourable scripture. Tears brim your eyes. A hand lifts to your gaping mouth. 

“I have been in love with you from the minute I saw you singing at The Wreck, back when we were sixteen. For whatever God damn reason, you gave me - a broke-ass idiot from the Cut with about two-dollars to my name and a pretty bad reputation - a chance. And you changed my life forever. Honestly, I don’t know what my life would feel like without you. I hope I never do, really, cause you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.  I mean, when you find a girl who writes songs about you, you kinda have to stick around, right?” 

You give a soggy laugh, sniffling and barely nodding. 

JJ grins, chuckling through his nerves. 

“So, I guess…Will you marry me?”

Tongue-tied like always, you struggle to find the words. No, not words. One word. One very important word. So, you nod frantically. And finally, it comes. 

“Yes,” you choke. “Yes! Yes!”

You’re worried you sound a little pushy, tentatively tagging on, “please.”

JJ barks out a laugh. He wipes at his eyes, mumbling about how he wasn’t going to be a sap, and takes the ring from its cushion. You hold out a quivering hand and let him slot it on. 

“Sorry. ‘M kinda clammy,” you mumble. 

JJ sniffs and laughs and nods. “S’fine, baby.”

You admire the ring in all its glory. Despite his El-Dorado success, the ring isn’t over the top. It’s exactly what you dreamed it to be. Beautiful in its simplicity. Understated and classy. You launch yourself at JJ. He catches you with a laugh, somehow keeping his balance, and embraces you like you might float away. God, you feel like you could. Everything in life is so perfect. Your band, your fame, your talent and your partner: it’s just perfect. 

Pressing your lips to his, you can't keep the joyful tears from falling. JJ cradles your face when you break apart, staring deeply into your eyes in a way that would have fifteen-year-old you crippled and crying on the floor. 

“I’ll marry you, JJ Maybank.”

[katerinaaqu]

The Why never asked and the Because that never mattered

This is a fic I was planning for quite a long time but I wanted to post for the birthday of @dionysism !! Happy Birthday!

Helen was being pulled. That was what she knew because what she felt was an absolute mess inside her like a skein of red wool that was given to a cat to play with and that cat had tangled the thing beyond recognition; it could be that several threads were already severed and yet they were tangled again and again and there was no way of whether they were indeed cut off or not. Helen of Troy, former considering herself Helen of Sparta was feeling a similar way. She was being pulled by the steady hand of her husband covered with his crimson chlamys, not being able to see anything around her but the dirt beneath her feet and yet the sounds that came to her ears; cries of pain mixed with wild triumph wouldn’t let her calm. The smell of fire was also apparent and the metallic scent of blood. She had taken a glimpse of that before and yet Menelaus had chosen to cover her from this. When she was driven to his presence Menelaus was silent. His eyes; those flaming eyes she had missed so much to see from up-close were only staring at her as if he aimed to burn holes into her soul. Helen would stare at him for hours. He had prepared herself for the reunion almost the full decade that she spent at Troy, somehow she knew her husband would come for her; she knew it deep down her soul, knowing his pride, his honor… The moment she lay a foot to the holy city of Troy accompanied by her then new husband Paris, she knew that moment that Menelaus would want to see this city burn. Somehow he had succeeded. She had heard also the plan created by her previous suitor Odysseus. Menelaus and Odysseus had showed up in Troy to negotiate, after arriving at their doors with over 1000 ships. Helen knew. She didn’t need the intelligence she had to realize that if her husband had called upon Odysseus that it didn’t matter what the elders would say. Menelaus would burn the city! Odysseus would help him and do what it would be necessary for victory regardless the price! Seeing the two so mismatched men (one of tall and royal structure with blondish-red hair and honey eyes like the sunset and the other shorter yet immensely structured, hairy and curly like a ram, black of hair and eyes like the night) looking towards her she knew. She knew that these two would make the world burn. Ever since she was preparing herself for the inevitable confrontation with her previous, her true husband… But nothing truly helped when she saw those flaming eyes of his, framed by the blood that had splattered his face, staring at her; blood dripping from his bronze sword.

Helen was looking at him and he was looking at her. Those eyes that belonged to a lion staring upon a beautiful doe in the forest; was something Helen could barely handle. She stood steadfast like the queen she was. She was dressed in a very simple dress without any makeup to her beautiful face and her tresses cascaded down her sides like a waterfall of gold. She had no jewelry on her or anything else to prove her royal status but her fierce eyes; those fierce dark gray, almost black eyes with the small irises of gold that made Menelaus weak at the knees once. However now Menelaus too was staring deep in them and his eyes seemed to be unmoving. Helen had hoped to manipulate some sympathy into her husband so that she could at least save the life of her daughter, Helen, the last daughter she had left from her marriage with Paris. She hoped her husband would see her as a woman now; not as a casus belli. He hoped that at least her daughter would escape his rage. She had never seen Menelaus so enraged before. Never.

“Helen…”

That voice was a throaty growl. It wasn’t human! She looked at his face; she memorized every new wrinkle that the 10 years of warfare had placed upon him. She could truly see him for the first time after a decade. Oh, how changed and how same he looked at the same time! His mouth was tight; the lips that kissed her so passionately before, now were like a tight line, playing and twitching in fury.

“Menelaus…” she forced her throat and lips form the name

Right there and then her voice broke a spell in the air. Her husband had also not seen her in a decade, hadn’t heard her voice in a decade. Then she saw the true meaning of his name before her; The Rage of the People! It was as if the rage of the entire Sparta was gathered in his gaze! His hand clenched upon the sword he was holding and slowly raised it. Fear twitched in her eyes.

“Please…” she croaked out

Menelaus made a step. And another. And another.

“Please!”

For once second her previous courage left her; it was the instinctual fear of every creature before the face of doom. Menelaus raised his sword over his head and then she just felt her knees buckle.

“NO!”

Her scream was unhinged; raw. She threw herself at his feet, getting to grab onto his knees the last second. Menelaus stiffened. He tried to break free but she held him close.

“Please! I beg of you! Have mercy! Have mercy! Let me at least explain myself! Do not do this before I have the chance to explain to you!”

Menelaus growled and tried once more to kick himself free but he knew he couldn’t. His reaction was weak! She realized it was the first time she touched him and, by gods, it was hugging his legs that were splattered with dirt and blood from the city that sheltered her from his rage!

“What is there to explain?!” Menelaus roared, “How can you explain what you did! Ten years, Helen! Ten bloody long years!”

“Please! Have mercy! I beseech you! In the name of our daughter!”

“Don’t you DARE to mention MY daughter!” Menelaus roared, “You left her behind! Like a beast of the forest who leaves their offspring behind to heal your passion! You have no right to bring her name to your wrenched lips! Damn the moment she was born to see the shame of her own mother! You have no right to speak the name of MY Hermione! Not anymore!”

Helen wailed once more as every word he spoke was a knife to her heart sharper than the sword that was now ominously threatening to take her life.

“Don’t…please…!” she cried, “Have mercy…don’t kill me with your words like this! Don’t be so cruel to me! Don’t say this about my daughter! There was not one day in my life that I didn’t think of her! That I didn’t wish she was there to hug her and apologize to her! Please Menelaus! I beg of you…give me one last chance to explain! That’s all I ask! Please!”

“Say what you have to say!” Menelaus growled, “Get up! Get up, woman!”

He practically raised her back to her feet in a violent, bruising grip and yet Helen was intelligent enough to notice the shift in his voice. Her pleading had reached some part of his heart that he dressed in stone. She knew his touch and he knew hers. He knew she was telling the truth. She tried to collect herself and her thoughts.

“I didn’t…I didn’t wish for this to happen, Menelaus. I…the gods have played a cruel game to me…to you…to this city and the Greeks! It was Aphrodite! She promised my hand to Paris! She sparked this cursed feeling inside me! I never stopped loving you, Menelaus! Never, I swear! I swear it upon the life of my children! I have no more sacred oath than that!”

The shadow that passed over her husband’s eyes made her heart stop. It was as if her words only sparked more anger inside him; the anger he was accumulating and nourishing for over a decade of war!

“How DARE you!” he whispered dangerously, “The gods?! Aphrodite?! How DARE you use the gods to mask your sins and infidelity! How DARE you use the name of my daughter for this!”

“Menelaus…stop please!”

“I should have known!” Menelaus ignored her, “The spawn of a woman who felt her passion being sparked by a beast! I should have known better than falling for such a charm! I should have known better than hoping that such a spawn wouldn’t be happy news for me! Cursed the moment I met you! Cursed the moment I married you! Cursed the moment I lo-…”

The word choked in his throat. Her heart clenched. He hesitated to declare his love for her. He hesitated for the first time she ever knew him. That chocked word shocked her much more than his half-blasphemy to her divine father; much more than his sudden action. He grabbed her arm in a bruising grasp, turning to his soldier.

“COME HERE!” he ordered, “Take this woman outside where she will be stoned to death! She will pay for the lives she took upon her! She will pay for the lives she DESTROYED!”

“NO!” Helen now shrieked

Adrenaline gave her probably strength beyond her human capabilities for she broke free from her husband’s painful grip with one violent yank of her arm. Not this, she thought! Any form of death was welcome now that she failed to break through her husband, but not this! She couldn’t die like a common traitor.

“NO! PLEASE!” she begged, “If I am to die, let me die with dignity! Let me die by your own hand! Let me end my own life if you have to! Let me die like a queen! Not like a traitor! Please!”

She violently tore her dress apart. Her naked breasts came in sight. Menelaus’s gaze fell upon them; the way this chest hosted her beating heart; the heart he had rested his ear against so many times, feeling her breathing soothing him! Her breasts remained youthful and beautiful like the day he met her! The years hadn’t withered her divine beauty away!

“RIGHT HERE!” Helen cried, tears running down her cheeks, “Put your sword here right now! I’d rather die by the hands of the man I love than this! Please! Let me die with dignity! You owe me this! Please!”

Menelaus looked at her; the violent palpitations of her chest…and then he looked at her face; her beautiful face scarred by tears and despair; her face that remained divinely beautiful despite the years, no, the years of sadness and agony seemed to have transformed her even more beautiful than before. It was as if her sadness, her GENUINE sadness that she had felt all these years, the suffering and longing, had made her even more beautiful in his eyes. Her hair was messed up, her face pure without any paint or cosmetics; her natural scent that didn’t need any perfumes or aromatic oils to make him longing for her; her body and heart and spirit. How could such a beauty go to waste? How could he destroy this divine creature? How could he destroy the woman he loved?

“ARGH” he roared throwing his sword away, “DAMMIT!”

“My lord?” his soldier asked, “Shall we proceed?”

“No!” Menelaus yelled, “I can’t! I can’t!”

Yes, he realized he couldn’t. He couldn’t kill her, he couldn’t watch her getting killed, and he couldn’t order her death. He couldn’t part from her again!

“I can’t! Damned be my name and my weakness but I can’t see this through! Zeus and the immortals forgive me, I can’t destroy this woman! If I do, I am destroying myself! If I kill her I die with her!”

Helen felt her tears increasing but this time the warm tears were coming straight from her heart; this organ that was pumping her blood steadily but also this wrenched tool that betrayed her after goddess Aphrodite clouded her judgment. She saw Menelaus now; the man she loved and chosen as her husband! Taking a bald step she took his hand, the hand painted in blood and tar. Wetting it with her own salty tears she kissed it. She was placing her life in his hands. There was nothing else she could do; nothing else she wished to do. She felt him stiffen but it was not unpleasant this time. Not like before. As she was bended down, she felt the chlamys covering her head like a veil.

“Dammit!” Menelaus cursed again, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

She felt her husband pulling her away and fast. Helen didn’t know what her fate would be; what her position would be now and she didn’t expect much but she felt like she could trust Menelaus. More than just her love for him was her trust to his heart.

That had happened quite a couple of hours prior, however it felt like an eternity to Helen. They reached his tent, that much she knew, judging from the sounds of the soldiers around. Beneath her fit she could be the ends of the Achaean tents that were set up very fast just enough so they could pass the night; obviously not like the organized camp they were before thanks to the ploy by Odysseus to pretend they were leaving. Quite frankly most soldiers didn’t even have their tents ready. Just the kings and lords were having some shelter for the night (which was getting over anyways). He saw the material of the tent open and Menelaus pushed her in. Only then his chlamys left her head. Menelaus had spoken no word to her ever since that encounter. She heard him yelling orders hither-thither but not one word had reached her ears that was addressed to her; no words of anger but neither words of encouragement either. She was at least relieved that some of the orders he made were concerning her little girl, making sure she came with them. That seemed enough for her. They entered the cozy environment of the tent. Helen clenched her dress closer, covering herself the best she could. However her husband, half staggered inside, removed his helm and let it fall somewhere. He was feeling crushed and tired; too tired to even bother himself with his armor. His hair was matted, painted in blood. Helen even noticed some white strands coming out of it. How much had he suffered too? How much had the longing and waiting cost him? Menelaus, the king of Sparta, even tiredly half-tripped against his own helm, ignoring its existence on the tent’s floor. A slave rushed to pick it up.

“Leave it!” Menelaus roared, “Out! Everyone out!”

She saw them all run out, terrified by his sudden yell. She stood her ground. She watched him struggle with his armor as if it would choke him but she didn’t dare to come closer to assist him. She felt like he needed his space; what had happened that night was not easy for anyone. Helen still mourned the city; the people who didn’t judge her. She mourned herself too; for feeling happiness being with her husband again even with such a terrible price to pay. Menelaus, finally free from the leather and bronze, he let the armor fall to the floor with a clang. Helen couldn’t remember seeing him this exhausted; this burnt out before. He moved his head, hearing cracking sounds from his nape. He silently went to a bronze bowl of water and splashed plenty on his face and over his hair, in some attempt to make himself presentable. With some of the blood gone, Helen clearly saw the gray hairs in his reddish head; like snowflakes on top of dry leaves. Menelaus…her Menelaus seemed drained and prematurely old despite his face being as handsome as she remembered. She watched him dry himself with a towel, which he also abandoned on the floor. She saw the blood stains on the towel and she cursed herself for thinking “Thank gods! This isn’t his blood…he is not hurt…” The thought brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t want to know how many people’s blood he was carrying on him. Menelaus poured a glass of wine for himself and drank deeply from his golden cup. How strange, she thought, gold and jewelry; how insignificant these seemed now before the face of war and death! How much death had they brought upon this earth! The silence was choking her. She couldn’t stand it!

“Menelaus…I…”

Her whisper was cut off by one move of Menelaus’s hand; a silent order, perhaps a silent pledge. She obeyed. Menelaus once more finished his drink and then he sat upon his couch, or perhaps it was his bed now. Helen saw how, despite the fact the tent was cozy and wide; she noticed the difference of her life and his all these years; Menelaus lived in a military camp for more than 10 years while she was living in the palace. No wonder he was so older than his age now; the sorrow, the guilt, the longing in combination to the conditions he lived in, could have their toll at any man. Menelaus seemed to be taking a breath to speak; as if to collect his thoughts.

“For ten years…” he finally whispered, voice hoarse and tired, “During all these years I had dreamt of this moment, Helen…”

It was the first time he addressed her so softly after a decade. Helen felt her heart palpitating and shivering. His rage before was all forgotten to her. His voice now was making her weak at the knees; the softness of her husband she had missed so much.

“I have played it in my head so many times that I had thought I knew every word I wanted to say or reply to you…” he scoffed humorlessly in self-sarcasm, “But, by gods, now I cannot even find a single word to say! The only thing I can say now -the one thing that tormented me all these years- is… Why, Helen? Why?”

His eyes locked with hers; her almost dark and yellow ones; the eyes that looked like stormy sky plundered by lightning.

“Why did you do this to me? Why…?”

The pain! The seer agony! She could almost see the tears down his cheeks even if he heroically was holding them back.

“Menelaus…I…”

“Yes, I know” he interrupted her, “Aphrodite… By gods, Helen…I don’t know what to believe! However that is not what I am asking…”

She waited. She didn’t even need to speak again to know his intentions.

“Why did you…for ten years, Helen…you waited there for ten years… You saw me nearly slaying your precious Paris…him being saved by gods… You still chose him, Helen…even then…you chose him…”

Then she saw it. One single tear ran down his cheek. His voice broke.

“Why, Helen…” he repeated like a mantra, “Why did you push me to the edge? Why did things have to go this way?”

There were a million things she would want to say; many excuses and true reasons. She could have said how she was still under the influence of Aphrodite. She could have said that she had a family she wanted to protect; her precious children that were not at fault, the children that died so unfairly in an earthquake and the children she mourned. She could have said how grateful she was to king Priam for understanding and protecting her, to Hector who supported her, to Andromache who accepted her. She could speak on the years she spent with these people. She could speak on her daughter, her little Helen, that remained alive…on the fact that they chose a new husband for her against her will. However none of this seemed useful now. Her tears ran down her cheeks again, her throat burning and feeling tied in a knob.

“Does it matter now…?” she whispered, “Would anything I say make things better now after so long? Will this give back the lives to all the Greeks that fell or the Trojans that got slain? Will anything I say undo this disaster we did…?”

Yes, she included him. She knew he would have too. Menelaus called upon the greatest army in the world, he agreed upon a bloody war, he agreed upon a scheme to take the city at night and the slaughter of innocents. She knew he knew he was not innocent; just like she wasn’t.

“No…” Menelaus whispered, “No, it doesn’t…”

His honey eyes locked in hers. She didn’t know what to make of it. His stare was as intense as the needle that pierces through the skin when the healer closes a wound. As if being self-conscious, she clenched her dress close to her chest again. Menelaus followed the movement with his eyes. Then his arm extended.

“Come here…”

It was a soft order; a pleading. Helen moved slowly, taking his hand in hers; eliminating the distance between them. She followed his lead as she slowly knelt before him, looking up at his face. His hand softly touched her cheek. She shivered. The night was cold but his hand was so warm! His fingers traced her cheek; phantom touch against her skin. His thumb trailed her lips. Helen felt more tears running but this time it wasn’t despair. His hand slowly went down the side of her throat, slowly slipping in her dress to caress the flesh of her shoulder. She turned her head by instinct, kissing his wrist. She felt him shiver. There was a soft squeeze on her shoulder; en encouragement to make her stand again. She did. His hands then opened her dress again to reveal her chest. He looked at her for a few seconds and then she saw him come undone, like a dam collapsing, filling a lake with water fast!

“Gods!” he whispered

And his arms pulled her close. It was a desperate embrace! It was the type of hugging a dying man would do to their deity, begging for a few more seconds upon the land of the living! His face buried in her bosom and she felt his wet tears on her skin; his arms, strong and secure, fisting upon the material of her dress and her back. Her own arms by instinct flew around him; around his head and she pulled him in her even further as the king of Sparta sobbed. This time Helen’s eyes were dry. It was as if she needed to be strong for him; allowing him to be weak now, to be with her! His shoulders were shivering from sobbing but he made no sound. He half raised his head only to kiss each one of her breasts. His lips were burning! Her heard raised her pulse. The last kiss was placed right in the middle; right over her heart, hammering against her ribcage.

“Please…” he begged, “Hold me, Helen! Hold me like this…”

“Yes…” Helen whispered hugging his head again, “Always…always…”

The man she loved more than life itself looked up and softly pulled her on his knees.

“Kiss me…” he begged again, “Please…kiss me…!”

The encouragement was not needed. She cupped his cheeks with both her white soft hands and her lips landed on his. She heard him whimper. His hands desperately clasped her hair and the other around her body. He kissed her like his life depended on it; like her soul was being transferred inside him. After ten long years! Finally Tears escaped his eyes. It was as if he was dying. The lip locking lasted a few seconds before Menelaus pulled back and half-fell behind. One of his arms was still holding her but the hand that clasped on her locks so tightly before, flew behind him as if to stop his fall. It was as if his heart had stopped for a small second.

“Menelaus!” she worriedly held onto his shoulders

“I’m fine…” Menelaus panted softly, “I’m fine…”

She used the edge of her sleeve to mop the droplets of sweat off his forehead; suddenly his skin feeling cold to the touch his breath coming out harshly. She could tell something was wrong with him; worry biting her soul like a snake. He tried to stabilize his breath as he looked up at her.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he begged weakly, “Please…not you…not like that!”

Tears burnt again in Helen’s eyes. The daughter of Zeus shook her head negatively, placing a kiss on her husband’s forehead, curling against him like a dove. His arms embraced her tighter than before. Her ear caught the sound of his heart; it was irregular! Only to stabilize bit by bit. She held him tightly as if she wanted to transfer her health to him. She wouldn’t let him go again! Never!

“Hold me, Menelaus…” she now begged back, hoping transferring her need for him would help, “Please...never again! Let me stay like this with you…never let me go again!”

Her palm rested against his chest; against his heart. She thanked all gods of Olympus that the heartbeat had stabilized. She could tell by his breathing and temperature too.

“Promise me…” she urged, “You will not let me go…you will not leave me! Never again!”

It was a foolish wish, she knew, but the deteriorating of his health alarmed her. She wanted him, only him, she would never marry another man again but him. She made a promise to herself that even if it cost her, her life, she would keep this man on this earth. He deserved it! Menelaus softly sighed and held her tighter.

“I promise…” she heard him whisper

There was no more need for words between them. No more reasoning was necessary.

***

Sooo yeah I feel lke we do not have so many Helen x Menelaus fics out there and is a shame given how much of a couple they are and how they have been through so much together! And how their love was enough to forget the years they spent apart!

Menelaus trying to kill Helen but being moved by her beauty or her pleading for her life is a detail mentioned in later sources, also depending on the source he wanted to kill her himself or have her stoned to death! As usually I decided to combine sources! Hahaha! Hopefully this works!

For the scene in Menelaus's tent I was severely inspired by an amazing Greek composer named Kostas Kapnisis (Κώστας Καπνίσης) who created soundtracks for some greek movies including an amazing movie for the greek revolution and one of the heroes taking part in it, Papaflessas. In the movie of 1971, one of the pieces of the soundtrack is called Erotiko (Ερωτικό) aka "erotic" or "of love" or "of eros" and on my word is was just perfect in my head!

Just listen the soft melody! TT-TT So them!

I also wanted to show Helen's strength and intelligence but also the fact that all characters were broken in sadness at that time.

Also Menelaus collapsing, you can see my headcanon of Menelaus suffering from his heart. I had made a small analysis on it you can find it here

Now I can memorize many good blogs here that create really beautiful Menelaus and Helen art. Some of those that I know and follow are @thehelplessmortals for some more historic style and others like @smokey07 in a more anime-like style. I must say Menelaus definitely needs more love out there! Both for his friendship with Odysseus as well as for his relationship with Helen and the reconsiliation they had!

Now the design for Helen I had in mind was blonde woman due to beauty standards plus how it is generally much rarer color especially for south Europe also Dares the Phrygian elleged account also names her as such but honestly I have seen great designs of hers looking amazing in red or brown or black hair! The eyes of hers (dark gray with sparkles of yellow) was a totally random thing in my head maybe to connect her with Zeus. Just a random idea I had this morning!

[blue-razzslushie]

I wanted to do this for awhile but it slipped my mind 😭. But since it's pride Month, I present to you. . .

Hogwarts Legacy Sexuality HC's (Including Rory cuz yes)

Students:

Sebastian: Pansexual, lil bro wants affection from everyone. Don't matter who. Your a boy? Girl?! Neither? He don't care tell him he's handsome

Ominis: Bisexual, He leans a bit more towards girls but him and Sebastian have a weird bromance thing going on so there's that

Garreth: Straight Ally, He supports all his friends no matter who they are attracted too. Oh you're gay? Cool, Try this concoction!

Natty: Lesbian, This may just be me projecting onto my favorite characters but I can totally see Natty as a badass lesbian. We love a women's woman who don't take shit

Poppy: Pansexual, She loves everyone regardless of gender. Everyone is hot to her, girls, guys, people in between. . . Merlin they're all so pretty

Amit: Omnisexual, He leans more toward girls but he fancies boys as well. He would just love for someone to share his stars with to be honest

Imelda: Lesbian. Straight up, no projection even needed. You can't look me dead in the eyes and tell me Imelda wouldn't be Lesbian.

Professors (just my favorites):

Professor Fig: Straight Ally, one of the most supportive straight dads you could ever think of deadass. He would wear those "free dad hug" shirts at pride fests if they existed back then

Professor Ronen: Bisexual, He's happily married to his wife but I gotta be honest when I first saw him I thought he had to be a zest fest in some way deadass.

Professor Hecat: Bisexual, She def would lean more towards girls but that's just my vision. We love a Badass Bisexual chat believe you me.

Professor Weasley: Straight Ally, yet another most supportive person you could ever think of. She wouldn't care if you were gay, trans, bisexual. She would love you regardless, and I love her for that

Professor Garlick: Lesbian. 1000%. After that letter she wrote to Sirona and all the mentions of each other they 100% are gay and I am HERE FOR IT.

Professor Sharp: AroAce. Romance? Never heard of it. Only kind of attraction he knows is how Garreth always seems to attract some sort of trouble. I know people mainly HC him as Bi and I'm here for that but I've always seen the man AroAce, He doesn't have time for romance, he has potions to brew and over powered 5th years to keep track of. . .

Rory: Lesbian. They never understood the appeal of men anyway, #1 Man hater besides like. . . A handful they can tolerate. They love women, and only women and they are the most open person about it in the WORLD.

Alright that's my headcanons, Happy pride Month chat!! ^^

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Five Christmases

Prompt Day 25: Christmas | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Christmas Day, Full Schedule, Family & Friends, Mostly Fluff, A Little Obligation, Steve POV

Christmas, 1999

8:06 AM

Steve is towel drying his hair, when Eddie pops into the doorway and taps his watch. 

"The day has just started and we're already six minutes behind, Harrington. C'mon!" 

Steve nods, "We'll be fine."

"Steve! Five Christmases! You committed us to five! That's a tight fucking schedule," Eddie shouts, and Steve just laughs. Usually he's the uptight one.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Steve says, just poking at him further. Just for fun, as a Christmas treat.

"This was your idea, asshole," Eddie says, slamming the bathroom door behind him, "I'm leaving in nine minutes, with or without you!"

"Okay, Bono!" Steve screams, not even sure if Eddie heard him.

9:12 AM

"Sorry we're late!" Eddie yells, pushing the front door open, letting themselves inside. "It's Steve's fault!"

Wayne gets up when he hears the door open, and Steve hugs Wayne. Eddie needs to chill the fuck out. Nobody is going to care if they are a few minutes late. Well, his parents will care. But nobody else will, especially not Wayne, that's for damn sure. 

Wayne's house smells wonderful, like maple syrup, coffee and bacon. This was a perfect first stop of the day, nobody does breakfast better than Wayne. 

They help him carry it all to the small formica kitchen table, sliding into the comfortable vinyl chairs, and it tastes as good as it smells. 

This is Christmas. 

The one thing they've done every year they've been together. Breakfast with Wayne. It's the only true Christmas tradition they have, and Steve wouldn't trade it for the world.

11:58 AM

Steve looks at his watch. They definitely aren't late as they stand on the steps, having rung the bell at the Harrington residence. 

Steve debates ringing it a second time, but just waits. Surely they heard it.

And it takes forever, because it's cold as shit out here, but his mother finally answers the door.

"Hi, mom. Merry Christmas," Steve says, and she nods her head at them, opening the door wider.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Harrington," Eddie says, politely. 

The long, formal dining room table is set up, and since it's just for the four of them, it's a little ridiculous. But he slides into his chair, a thousand miles away from everyone else at the table. His parents at either end, and Eddie across from him, hands folded in his lap.

He's nervous, Steve can tell. It never gets more comfortable, this awkward tip-toeing they all do around each other.

His parents know about Eddie, but would rather pretend otherwise, Steve supposes.

So, they eat their awkward meal, in uncomfortable stretches of silence.

In the car, Steve reaches over and takes Eddie's hand into his own, bringing it up to his lips.

"Thank you," Steve says, and Eddie nods. "The next one will be more fun," Steve promises and Eddie grins, wide and excited.

2:11 PM

They are barely up the walkway when the front door swings open, banging against the hallway wall.

"Shoes!" Steve hears being hollered from the house, but it's too late. Eddie's got an armful of little girl, despite her mother's warning.

"Uncle Eddie, Santa came!" she yells and Eddie smiles, brushing the snow off of her bare feet. 

Gareth appears in the doorway, to usher them inside, as his daughter regales them with tales of all her new toys that Santa brought this morning.

Eddie puts her down once they're inside, and rattles the sack he has thrown over his shoulder, full of more presents. 

Gareth shakes his head, but hugs Eddie once Eddie's handed over the sack, and she's ran into the living room, to open them up.

"You didn't have to do that," Gareth says, and Steve hears Eddie laugh. Of course they did.

"Sure we did, that's our girl, too, you know. And it's our right, as her super fun uncles, to spoil her rotten," Eddie states.

Gareth laughs, and settles onto the armrest of the chair Eddie has plopped down into, to watch her tear open the wrapping paper with delight.

5:33 PM

"Merry Christmas, dickhead," Steve says, and hugs Dustin.

"Back atcha," Dustin answers, guiding them into the living room. There's a nice fire going, and it's cozy. 

Steve's glad Henderson finally moved closer to home, again. It's been too long. 

Dustin pours them both a drink, and they sit and just talk. It's quiet, calm, and comfortable. All things Steve never would have assigned to Dustin Henderson, even ten years ago. But he's grown up, right before their very eyes. 

Their kid.

He'll always be their kid.

7:45 PM

Robin's running around her kitchen, and it smells slightly of smoke, so as soon as they're in the door, they both step in to help her, so she doesn't actually burn the place down. She wanted to do dinner by herself this year, and they'd all agreed, but she's clearly in over her head.

"I just spilled on the burner! It's fine! Nothing's on fire!" she yells, and Steve picks up the smoke detector from the counter, that's clearly been yanked off the wall.

"I can confirm!" Robin's girlfriend yells from the other room.

And honestly? Steve thinks they're both right, taking a good look around the kitchen. It all looks really good. A huge mess, for sure, but damn good. 

"It looks great, Robbie. You're killing it," Steve says, hugging her from behind, and she shrugs him off, still moving at warp speed around the kitchen. 

When they head towards the table, Steve kisses Robin on the top of the head before taking his seat, "Thanks for going to all this trouble."

Robin just rolls her eyes.

11:54 PM

"Merry Christmas," Steve says, as Eddie slides into bed, flopping against his pillow, groaning at the simple pleasure of the act.

"I have one more present for you," Steve says, sliding his hand over Eddie's bare stomach, and that gets Eddie's attention. 

"I'm listening…"

Steve laughs, and leans over, kissing him. 

Notes: The idea came from the Gilmore Girls episode where they have to go to four Thanksgivings in one day. Then I was googling the spelling of Christmases (to make sure, ha) and realized there is a movie called Four Christmases. So, that too, I guess, lol.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[lurkingshan]

Unknown Episode 10

I'm back just in time to dive into this exquisite final arc of my current favorite show, and the tension is delicious. I know after last week's near death experience many of us were hoping Qian was on the brink of accepting Yuan, but the thing about Qian is he is stubborn as a mule and terrified of change. We know this about him, so we can't be surprised that he's not quite done breaking down his mental walls.

I loved how much this episode was about Qian's struggle to accept what his heart is already telling him. He knows he has feelings for Yuan. He knows he feels differently about him than anyone else, especially in comparison to his truly brotherly feelings for Lili. Qian has finally accepted that Yuan loves him romantically and always will, but he still hasn't decided whether he can fully reciprocate. His conversation with Yuan at the end of the episode was the first time we heard him admit he has feelings for Yuan, but he is still caught up in whether they are truly romantic, and how he can know that. Qian has no romantic experience to speak of and his feelings for Yuan are so singular that I can't help but empathize with him here. He is not equipped to sort this out on his own, and he's too scared to give in to Yuan lest he hurt him or their relationship by trying to change something.

Which is why that talk with San Pang was so important. San Pang is the one who interfered in their relationship in the first place, tried to talk Yuan out of his feelings, and encouraged Qian when he decided to send Yuan away. He lived with Qian all those years Yuan was away and he saw the damage the separation caused. Qian's misery without Yuan was palpable, and now that Yuan is back and his feelings are only more intense, San Pang has the wisdom (and the distance Qian doesn't) to see that fighting it any further is pointless and only going to hurt them all. He wants them to be happy more than anything else, and perhaps through coming to terms with his own feelings for Lili and navigating the change in their relationship, he has also accepted that Qian and Yuan are happiest together.

San Pang has always been Qian's confidante, sounding board, and reality check, and you could see how shaken Qian was when he finally took away the last of Qian's rationalizations. When San Pang said "be honest, did you feel empty when Yuan was away?" you could practically see Qian fighting against the last of his resolve crumbling. The way his body started to tremble and his voice shook as he tried to make San Pang understand his fear was so moving, I didn't even feel frustrated with him. We can get swept up sometimes in romance narratives and forget how monumental this kind of shift in a relationship can feel, but with Qian we can't forget it, because his fear defines every moment. I love that the show is taking this change so seriously and not rushing us through these final moments of struggle (@wen-kexing-apologist I'm gonna need 1000 words minimum on Qian's mouth twitch, nervous body language, and tears in this scene, Chris killed it). And I felt a lot for Lili in this episode, who is once again witnessing her brothers in a deadlock with each other with no one talking to her about why (though at this point I think she knows).

We end this week standing on what feels like another precipice, as the brothers are once again in tension with each other. This new health wrinkle for Qian is not a set up for a big dramatic health scare (thank goodness) but rather a symbol of that last little bit that Qian is still holding back from Yuan. I loved the way the camera lingered on Yuan's bracelet in the scene where he grabbed Qian's hand and begged to be let in; Qian is the one who gave him that reminder of their connection even as he tries to keep this last small barrier between them. But they are facing each other with everything laid bare between them now. Qian looked like he was in physical pain in that last scene listening to Yuan go on about how all his desires are one-sided and his own problem, but the way Qian reached for him may indicate that he's finally ready to admit they are in this together.

A note about episodes 11 and 12: As expected, the final two episodes have leaked early. I will be sticking to the commitment I made with some others on here to wait for the weekly airdates to post about and interact with content about these episodes. I have filtered [#unknown the series spoilers] and kindly ask that you please tag anything you post early about these episodes. I will be unfollowing and blocking people as needed who can't do this basic courtesy. I have really loved discussing this show in depth with you all and hope we can continue for a couple more weeks!

[freyjhasdesiredreality]

Schatje and The Lion (Max Verstappen x Reader)

(Credits to GIF owner)

A/N: Hey people! This is the first of my 24-race winners x reader challange. We are starting with Max Verstappen, the winner of Bahrain GP! Hope you enjoy!! (English is not my first language, grammar mistakes are my own and I apologise for them!)

WC: 1000+

Warnings: Childhood friends to lovers, abusive boyfriend (not Max!!), injuries, blood (Let me know if I missed any!!)

Max absolutely hated your boyfriend. It was even beyond hate. If he had a chance he would rip his head off from his shoulders, put you in his wardrobe and never let anyone touch you ever again. You were so precious to him. You opened your eyes to the world together. All he knew was you growing up. 

When he won his first race in karting, you were there for him, cheering from the first row with Jos, holding your hand. He still remembers that day, hugging you so tight. He believed you were his lucky charm, so he begged his father to convince your parents to come to his every race. 

Years passed, many things changed in both of your lifes. The only thing that didn’t change was your friendship. It grew stronger each day, you were inseparable. You were his comfort zone. Whenever he felt overwhelmed from his world, he took refuge in you. He didn’t want to share you with anyone else but he knew better than that. You were a person too, you had your own life. 

When he felt for you, he made a plan to open up to you. He wanted to confess his feelings at his first championship celebration party but things didn’t go as he wished. You brought a guy to his party and introduced him as your boyfriend.

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone, schatje,” he said, eyeing up and down the man next to you. He was challenging him, claiming his place on you. He was unhappy, and he made it very clear to the man. “And I didn’t know, the famous Max Verstappen calls my girlfriend ‘schatje’,” he struck back. It was like a fight between alphas for their only omega. 

“Well, since she's been my best friend since the age of 1, I call her whatever I want,” he spitted. 

Things were heathen up so you interrupted them but made sure you gave Max a speech to be nice with him.

“He is trying to own you and it’s my fault?” he yelled. “This day was supposed to be about me and he ruined it!” 

He regretted his words right after they left his mouth but it was too late. Tears threatened your eyes, you struggled to find words. 

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” he wanted to interrupt but you shut him up. “Save it, Max. You’ll call me when you want to apologize.” 

He called you the next day to make everything right. He even offered to buy dinner for you and your boyfriend as an apology. When he learned he was a Mercedes fan, he swallowed up his pride and talked with George Russell to get him a paddock pass. You were happy so he was happy too. At least that’s what he thought. 

Behind the closed doors, you were constantly abused. When you wanted to break up, he beat you. This became a routine. Every time you found courage to leave, he found a way to keep you in his place. So you covered up. Put on a nice smile for Max. You knew he would lose his mind if he learned. He was fighting for his second championship. He didn’t need a distraction. 

-

Cries of joy could be heard through the closed doors. He was the world champion once again and of course there will be a party. Max wanted to see you with him once again and he made sure you were coming. He booked a car for you, so you didn’t have to take Uber. Your boyfriend didn’t like it. He beat you until he made sure you couldn’t cover up with only makeup so you had to stay. 

“Wait here until I come back. I’ll bring food,” he said and left like nothing happened. It was now or never. You listened to his footsteps, took your purse and ran for your life. Luckily, the car that Max hired for you was still waiting after 25 minutes. 

“Miss Y/L/N are you sure you don’t want to go to hospital?” the driver kindly asked with concern in his voice. “Just please take me to Max,” you cried. You hated yourself for being so vulnerable. The driver did as you asked, drove you to his hotel. “Mr Verstappen hasn’t left yet, Miss. Room 2501, I’ll inform the reception,” he said. 

You thanked him and rushed to Max's room, like you are still being chased. You knocked the door violently. You heard his murmur silently wondering what was so important. He opened the door and froze. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman he loved for many years, standing on his door, tears on her eyes and covered up with bruises and blood.

“Y/N?” was all he managed to say. His heart broke when you broke down in tears, begging for his forgiveness that you ignored his judgment and still went for something you wanted. He took you in his arms, “Calm down schatje, it’s not your fault.” He was filled with rage, wanted to go to your hotel and beat the shit out of him like how he did to you. 

You hugged him so tight, asked him not to leave you. “I’m sorry, I ruined your day again,” you said can’t look at his face. He gently grabbed your chin and lifted your head, “I don’t want to hear this ever again, liefje, okay? Nothing is more important than you,” he wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Let’s clean you up, okay? Your injuries look bad, I don’t want them to get infected.”

During winter break, he absolutely did his best to heal your broken soul. You were finally feeling like before, ready for the world with him on your side and so was he. The season was here and it was already the last lap of the race. He passed the checkered flag, finishing first. You were in the garage, cheering for him with the rest of the team. He met you in the crowd, hugged you so tight. Before he left, he held your cheek and leaned in to kiss. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it sent sparks flying through both of your bodies.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time,” he said grinning ear to ear. Everyone cheered for you when you both kissed again but this time with more passion. “Go get your cup, my lion.”

Likes and reblogs are appreciated, requests are open for both F1 and Marvel!!