#i mean i kind of. figured that might happen in my lifetime

[pucksandpower]

To Hell With Duty

Lewis Hamilton x soulmate!Reader

Summary: you’ve always known that being Princess of the UK means that a soulmate is a luxury you can’t afford … but then you meet your soulmate and decide that some things are worth turning your back on duty for

Warnings: abusive family dynamics

Note: I promised to write something in honor of Lewis’ win and this was born (now I’m tempted to make a soulmate AU series)

The sun blazes overhead as you step out of the sleek black car, your designer heels clicking against the pavement. The roar of engines and the excited chatter of the crowd at Silverstone envelop you, but you can barely hear them over the pounding of your own heart.

“Your Royal Highness, this way please,” a smartly dressed aide gestures towards the paddock area.

You nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. As you walk, you absently rub your wrist, feeling the slight raised bumps of your soulmate mark beneath the carefully applied concealer.

“I wish you didn’t have to hide it,” your best friend and lady-in-waiting, Sophie, whispers beside you.

“You know I don’t have a choice,” you murmur back, glancing around to ensure no one overheard.

The memory of your brother’s ordeal flashes through your mind, as vivid and painful as the day it happened ...

“No, please! You can’t do this!” Edward’s anguished cries echoed through the palace halls.

You huddled in your room, hands pressed over your ears, trying to block out the sound. But nothing could drown out your brother’s screams as the royal physician burned away his soulmate tattoo.

Later, when you snuck into his room, you found him curled up on his bed, cradling his bandaged wrist.

“Eddie?” You whispered, your voice small and frightened.

He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy. “Y/N ... I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

You climbed onto the bed beside him. “Why did they do it? Why can’t you be with your soulmate?”

Edward sighed, pulling you close. “Because we’re royals, little sister. Our marriages are about duty, not love. Soulmates ... they’re a luxury we can’t afford.”

“But that’s not fair!” You protested.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, his voice hollow. “But it’s the price we pay for our position. Promise me something, Y/N. If you ever find your soulmate ... run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

The memory fades as Sophie gently squeezes your arm, bringing you back to the present.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern etched on her face.

You take a deep breath, straightening your shoulders. “I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the carefree laughter and excitement around you. Everywhere you look, people are proudly displaying their soulmate tattoos, some comparing them with friends, others stealing glances at strangers, wondering if today might be the day they meet their perfect match.

“Your Royal Highness,” a race official greets you with a bow. “We’re honored to have you here today. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the VIP area.”

You nod, allowing yourself to be led through the crowded paddock. The official drones on about the day’s schedule, but your mind wanders.

“What do you think your soulmate is like?” Sophie had asked you once, years ago, when you were both giggling teenagers.

“I don’t know,” you had replied, tracing the words on your wrist. “But I hope they’re kind. And funny. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just my title.”

“You’ll find them one day,” Sophie had said confidently. “And when you do, it’ll be magical.”

Now, surrounded by the bustle and excitement of race day, that conversation feels like a lifetime ago. You’ve long since resigned yourself to the fact that you’ll never meet your soulmate. Even if you did, you could never act on it. The risk is too great.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the figure rounding the corner until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, stumbling backward. Strong hands grip your arms, steadying you before you can fall.

You look up, an apology on your lips, and find yourself staring into the most captivating brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Time seems to stand still as you gaze at each other, the world fading away around you.

And then he speaks, his voice low and warm.

“Whoa there, careful Princess. I’ve got you.”

***

Your heart stops as Lewis’ words sink in. They’re an exact match to the tattoo hidden beneath layers of concealer on your wrist. For a moment, you’re frozen, lost in his warm brown eyes, your mind reeling with the implications of what just happened.

Then reality comes crashing down. You can’t do this. You can’t put him in danger. You can’t risk the pain your brother went through.

“I ... I have to go,” you stammer, pulling away from his gentle grip.

Lewis’ brow furrows in confusion. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

But you’re already backing away, panic rising in your chest. “I’m sorry, I can’t ... this isn’t ... I have to leave.”

You turn and run, pushing past startled onlookers, your heart pounding in your ears. Behind you, you hear Lewis call out.

“Princess, wait! Your words ... they’re on my wrist!”

You falter for a moment, his words piercing through your panic. But no, it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. You keep running.

“Y/N, please!” Lewis’ voice is closer now. He’s chasing after you. “I know you felt it too. We need to talk about this!”

You duck around a corner, trying to lose him in the maze of the paddock. But Lewis is faster, more familiar with the layout. He catches up to you in a quiet area behind one of the garages.

“Princess,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Please, just hear me out.”

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill. “You don’t understand. We can’t do this. My family ... they’ll never allow it. They’ll hurt you, or worse.”

Lewis takes a cautious step closer. “What do you mean? Why would your family hurt me?”

“Because you’re my soulmate!” The words burst out before you can stop them. “And royals aren’t allowed to be with their soulmates. It’s all about duty and arranged marriages. They ... they burned off my brother’s mark when he found his soulmate.”

Lewis’ eyes widen in horror. “That’s barbaric. They can’t do that to you.”

You laugh bitterly. “They’re the royal family. They can do whatever they want.”

“No,” Lewis says firmly. “They can’t. Because I won’t let them.”

You look at him, confused. “What?”

Lewis takes your hand gently, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Y/N, I’m not just British. I’m also a Brazilian citizen. And in Brazil, there are laws protecting soulmates. If we’re truly matched, which I believe we are, you automatically gain Brazilian citizenship too. Your family can’t touch you there.”

Hope flares in your chest, but you quickly squash it down. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll find a way. They always do.”

“Not this time,” Lewis insists. “Look, I have a race to drive soon, but after that, we can fly to Brazil immediately. I’ll keep you safe until then.”

You shake your head. “It’s too dangerous. If they find out ...”

“They won’t,” Lewis promises. “My driver’s room is private and secure. You can hide there until after the race. No one will think to look for you there.”

You hesitate, torn between hope and fear. “I don’t know ...”

Lewis squeezes your hand gently. “I know we just met, but I’ve been waiting my whole life to find you. Please, give us a chance. Let me protect you.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Slowly, you nod. “Okay. But we have to be careful.”

Relief washes over Lewis’ face. “We will be. Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

He leads you quickly through the paddock, taking care to avoid busy areas. You keep your head down, heart racing every time you pass someone. Finally, you reach a door marked with Lewis’ name.

“Here we are,” he says, ushering you inside. “Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone but me. I’ll knock three times, pause, then twice more. Okay?”

You nod, taking in the small but comfortable room. “Okay. But Lewis, what about your race? You can’t miss it because of me.”

He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll race, and then we’ll leave right after. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if something goes wrong? What if they find me?” The fear creeps back into your voice.

Lewis takes your hands in his, his touch grounding you. “Hey, look at me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. We’re soulmates, remember? That means we’re in this together now.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he says softly. “But you’re also incredibly brave. You’ve lived with this fear your whole life, and you’re still standing. We can do this.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other for all of ten minutes and you’re already saying ‘we’?”

Lewis grins. “Well, that’s what happens when you meet your soulmate, I guess. Everything changes in an instant.”

You laugh softly, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Listen,” Lewis says, his tone turning serious. “I know this is all happening very fast, and I don’t expect you to fall in love with me right away or anything. We’ll take things as slow as you want once we’re safe. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and determination. Slowly, you nod. “Yes, I think I can.”

“Good,” Lewis smiles. “Now, I have to go get ready for the race. Remember, three knocks, pause, then two more. Don’t open for anyone else.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “Be careful out there, okay?”

Lewis’ smile widens. “Always am, Princess. I’ll see you soon.”

As he leaves, you lock the door behind him, your heart still racing. You sink onto the small couch, trying to process everything that’s happened in the last hour.

You’ve found your soulmate. After years of hiding your tattoo, of living in fear of it being burned away like your brother’s, you’ve actually met the person whose words are etched on your skin.

And not just any person. Lewis Hamilton. World-famous driver, activist, and fashion icon. You’ve seen him on TV, of course, admired his skill on the track and his passion for social justice. But you never imagined ...

You rub your wrist absently, feeling the slight raised bumps of your mark beneath the concealer. For the first time in years, you allow yourself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of.

But doubt creeps in. What if Lewis is wrong? What if Brazilian citizenship isn’t enough to protect you from your family’s influence? What if they find you before you can leave?

You pace the small room, alternating between hope and fear. The sound of engines revving in the distance tells you the race is about to start. You find yourself holding your breath every time you hear footsteps pass by the door, terrified it might be palace security coming to drag you away.

Time crawls by agonizingly slowly. You try to distract yourself by watching the race on the small TV in the corner, but every time the camera focuses on Lewis’ car, your heart leaps into your throat. You silently urge him to be careful, to finish the race quickly so you can escape.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear it. Three knocks, a pause, then two more. You rush to the door, your hand hesitating for just a moment before you unlock it.

Lewis slips inside quickly, closing and locking the door behind him. He’s still in his race suit, his hair damp with sweat.

“Are you okay?” You ask immediately. “How was the race?”

Lewis grins. “I’m fine, and I won. But that’s not important right now. We need to go.”

He grabs a bag from a locker and starts shoving clothes into it. “I’ve arranged for a private jet to take us to São Paulo. We need to leave now, before anyone realizes you’re missing.”

You nod, your heart racing again. “Okay. What do we do?”

“I’ve got some clothing here that might fit you,” Lewis says, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants. “Put these on over your clothes. We’ll need to be discreet getting to the airport.”

As you change, Lewis continues talking. “Once we’re in Brazil, we’ll be safe. There are strict laws protecting soulmates there. Your family won’t be able to touch you.”

“But what about your career?” You ask, suddenly realizing what he’s giving up. “You can’t just leave everything behind for me.”

Lewis pauses, looking at you intently. “Y/N, you’re my soulmate. That means you’re more important than any career, any amount of fame or money. We’ll figure out the details later, but right now, keeping you safe is all that matters.”

His words make your heart swell. You’ve never had anyone put you first like this before. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lewis smiles. “Just trust me, okay?”

You nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over you despite the chaotic situation. “I do trust you. Let’s go.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath, thinking of all you’re leaving behind — your family, your duty, the only life you’ve ever known. But as you look at Lewis, you realize you’re also stepping into a new life. One where you’re free to be yourself, to love who you want, to follow your heart.

“Ready,” you say firmly.

And with that, Lewis opens the door, and together, you step out into your new future.

***

The private jet hums softly as it cuts through the night sky, carrying you away from everything you’ve ever known. You’re curled up against Lewis on the plush leather seat, your head resting on his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear is oddly comforting, grounding you in this surreal moment.

Lewis’ arm is wrapped around you, his hand gently stroking your back. With your free hand, you trace the lines of his soulmate tattoo — your first words to him, now etched forever on his skin.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” you murmur, your fingers following the curves of each letter.

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest. “I know what you mean. I’ve imagined meeting you so many times, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality.”

You look up at him, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. “Weren’t you afraid? When you realized who I was?”

“Afraid?” Lewis considers for a moment. “No, not afraid. Excited, nervous, maybe a little overwhelmed. But not afraid.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “But you were. You’re still afraid now, aren’t you?”

You nod slowly, dropping your gaze back to his wrist. “I’ve been afraid for so long, I’m not sure I know how to stop.”

Lewis’ hand moves to cup your face gently, encouraging you to look at him again. “Will you tell me about it? Help me understand?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s ... it’s not a pleasant story.”

“I’m here,” Lewis says softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

His words, so simple yet so profound, give you the courage to begin. “It started with my brother, Edward. He was always the rebellious one, you know? Always pushing boundaries, questioning traditions. When he found his soulmate, he was over the moon. Her name was Lily, and she was ... she was perfect for him. Kind, funny, passionate about the same causes he was.”

You pause, the memory of your brother’s joy contrasting sharply with what came after. Lewis waits patiently, his presence a comforting anchor.

“For a few months, they managed to keep it a secret. But eventually, someone saw them together. Word got back to our parents and ...” You shudder, remembering that awful day. “They were furious. They gave Edward an ultimatum: give up Lily or give up his place in the line of succession.”

“That’s horrible,” Lewis murmurs, his arm tightening around you.

You nod, continuing, “Edward refused. He said Lily was more important than any throne. So they ... they decided to take matters into their own hands.”

Your voice breaks as you recount what happened next. “They had the royal physician burn off Edward’s soulmate mark. I can still hear his screams echoing through the palace. It was ... it was torture.”

Lewis’ body tenses beneath you, his voice tight with anger when he speaks. “They had no right. How could they do that to their own son?”

“They said it was for the good of the country,” you reply bitterly. “That royals can’t afford the luxury of soulmates. Our marriages are political tools, nothing more.”

“What happened to Edward and Lily?” Lewis asks gently.

You sigh heavily. “Edward was never the same after that. The spark in him just ... died. He does his duty now, makes the appearances he’s supposed to, but it’s like he’s just going through the motions. And Lily ... last I heard, she moved to Australia. I think being anywhere near the UK was too painful for her.”

Lewis is quiet for a moment, processing your words. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Y/N. No wonder you were scared when you realized we were soulmates.”

You nod, feeling the weight of years of fear and secrecy lifting as you share your story. “That’s not even the worst of it,” you admit softly.

Lewis looks at you, concern etched on his face. “There’s more?”

You take another deep breath, steeling yourself for the hardest part of the story. “My father ... he had an older sister. Aunt Margaret. I never met her, but I found out about her a few years ago.”

Lewis listens intently as you continue, “She found her soulmate when she was young, maybe 20 or so. And she refused to give him up, no matter what my grandparents said. They tried everything — threats, bribes, even attempting to arrange another match for her. But Margaret stood firm.”

“She sounds brave,” Lewis comments.

You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “She was. But bravery wasn’t enough. One night, both Margaret and her soulmate disappeared. The official story was that they’d eloped, run off to start a new life together. But that wasn’t the truth.”

Lewis’ body tenses again, as if bracing for what’s coming. You press on, the words tumbling out now that you’ve started.

“Margaret’s soulmate was ... dealt with. Permanently. And Margaret herself was institutionalized. Locked away in a private facility, hidden from the world.”

“That’s ... that’s monstrous,” Lewis breathes, horror evident in his voice.

You nod, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “When I found out, I couldn’t believe it. I managed to find out where she was being held and I ... I visited her.”

Lewis’ hand resumes its gentle stroking of your back, encouraging you to continue.

“She was ... god, Lewis, she was just a shell. Decades of being locked away, of being separated from her soulmate ... it had broken her. She didn’t even seem to realize I was there.”

A tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. Lewis gently wipes it away with his thumb.

“That’s why I was so scared,” you whisper. “I’ve seen what my family is capable of. What lengths they’ll go to in order to keep up appearances, to maintain their idea of duty.”

Lewis is quiet for a long moment, his arms tightening around you protectively. When he finally speaks, his voice is filled with a mix of anger and determination.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he says firmly. “What happened to your brother, to your aunt ... it was wrong. Cruel and wrong. But I promise you, I will not let that happen to us.”

You look up at him, seeing the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’re not alone in this,” Lewis explains. “We have resources they don’t. My citizenship, for one. The laws protecting soulmates in Brazil. And beyond that, we have the power of public opinion.”

You frown, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

Lewis shifts slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Think about it. Your family’s power comes from public support, right? What do you think would happen if the world found out they were separating soulmates, institutionalizing people?”

“It would be a scandal,” you realize, your eyes widening.

“Exactly,” Lewis nods. “We’re not helpless. If they try anything, we can fight back. We can tell our story, rally support. The world has changed a lot. People believe in the sanctity of soulmates now more than ever.”

His words spark a tiny flame of hope in your chest. “You really think we could do that?”

“I know we could,” Lewis says confidently. “But more than that, I don’t think we’ll have to. Your family isn’t stupid. They’ll realize the risk isn’t worth it. Especially not with someone as high-profile as me.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that. “Modest, aren’t you?”

Lewis grins, the tension of the moment breaking. “Hey, I’m just stating facts. Seven-time world champion, remember?”

You roll your eyes playfully, but then grow serious again. “Lewis ... thank you. For listening, for understanding. For not running away when you realized how complicated this all is.”

“Hey,” Lewis says softly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “You’re my soulmate. That means we’re in this together, complications and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words wash over you, soothing fears you’ve carried for so long. For the first time, you allow yourself to truly believe that maybe, just maybe, you can have this. You can have him.

“So,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips. “What happens now?”

Lewis grins, his eyes twinkling with excitement and possibility. “Now? Now we start our adventure. We land in São Paulo, get your citizenship sorted out, and then ... well, then the world’s our oyster. We can go anywhere, do anything.”

“Anything?” You ask, the concept of such freedom almost dizzying.

“Anything,” Lewis confirms. “We could travel the world. Or we could find a quiet place to settle down if that’s what you prefer. We could work on charitable causes together, or you could pursue whatever dreams you’ve had to put aside because of your royal duties.”

The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more exciting than the last. “I ... I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.

Lewis chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We don’t have to decide everything right now. We’ve got time. For now, let’s just focus on getting to Brazil safely. We can figure out the rest as we go.”

You nod, settling back against his chest. The steady beat of his heart syncs with the hum of the jet engines, lulling you into a sense of peace you haven’t felt in years.

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of your soulmate’s arms, you realize something. For the first time in your life, you’re not afraid of the future. Instead, you’re excited to see what it holds.

Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. You and Lewis, two halves of a whole, finally united. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but with him by your side, you’re ready for anything.

***

As the private jet touches down on Brazilian soil, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flutters in your stomach. Lewis gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as the plane rolls to a stop.

“Ready?” He asks, his warm brown eyes meeting yours.

You take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

The cabin door opens, and the humid Brazilian air rushes in. Lewis leads you down the steps, his hand never leaving yours. At the bottom, a tall woman in a crisp suit waits, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she greets with a warm smile, extending her hand. “And Your Royal Highness. Welcome to Brazil. I’m Dr. Raquel Santos from the Department of Soulmate Affairs.”

Lewis shakes her hand. “Dr. Santos, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.”

“Of course,” she replies, turning to you. “Your Highness, it’s an honor.”

You shake her hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “Please, just call me Y/N. I ... I’m not sure how much of a royal I am anymore.”

Dr. Santos’ smile softens. “Of course, Y/N. Why don’t we move this conversation somewhere more private? I have a car waiting to take us to a secure location where we can discuss everything in detail.”

You and Lewis follow her to a sleek black car. Once inside, Dr. Santos turns to face you both.

“First and foremost,” she begins, “I want to assure you that you are under the full protection of Brazilian law. As soon as you stepped off that plane, Y/N, you became entitled to all the rights and protections we offer to soulmates.”

“Just like that?” You ask, hardly daring to believe it could be so simple.

Dr. Santos nods. “Just like that. Brazil takes soulmate rights very seriously. We believe that the bond between soulmates is sacred and should be protected at all costs.”

Lewis leans forward, his expression serious. “What exactly does that protection entail? Y/N’s situation is ... complicated.”

“I understand,” Dr. Santos says. “Your assistant filled me in on some of the details during our phone call. Let me break down the key points for you.”

As the car glides through the streets of São Paulo, Dr. Santos begins her explanation.

“First, as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen, Y/N is immediately eligible for Brazilian citizenship. We can begin the paperwork right away. This will provide an added layer of protection against any attempts at extradition.”

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders at her words. “So my family can’t force me to return to the UK?”

“Correct,” Dr. Santos confirms. “Brazil does not recognize any authority over soulmate bonds, not even royal decrees. Your status as a princess is irrelevant in the eyes of our law when it comes to your rights as a soulmate.”

Lewis squeezes your hand, a smile playing on his lips. “See? I told you we’d figure it out.”

Dr. Santos continues, “Furthermore, we have specific laws protecting soulmates from forced separation. Any attempt to interfere with your bond — be it physical separation, coercion, or even attempts to remove or alter your soulmate marks — is considered a serious crime in Brazil.”

You unconsciously rub your wrist where your tattoo is hidden. “What about ... what if they try to claim I’m mentally unfit or something? To try and invalidate my choices?”

Dr. Santos’ expression turns serious. “We’ve seen such tactics used before, unfortunately. That’s why we have safeguards in place. Any claims of mental unfitness would require extensive evaluation by multiple independent Brazilian psychiatrists.”

“And if they try to use their diplomatic influence?” Lewis asks.

“Brazil’s stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable,” Dr. Santos states firmly. “We’ve stood up to pressure from other nations before, and we won’t hesitate to do so again. Your bond is protected here, regardless of external political pressures.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “This all sounds almost too good to be true.”

Dr. Santos smiles warmly. “I understand your caution, Y/N. But I assure you, these protections are very real and very enforceable. Now, let me explain some of the practical aspects of your situation.”

As the car turns onto a quieter street, Dr. Santos pulls out a tablet. “We’ll need to register your bond officially. This involves a simple verification process — usually just a visual confirmation of a matching font on your soulmate marks. Once registered, you’ll be issued official documentation of your bond status.”

“What does that documentation do?” You ask, leaning forward with interest.

“It serves several purposes,” Dr. Santos explains. “Firstly, it’s legal proof of your bond, which can be used to claim various rights and protections under Brazilian law. It also serves as a form of identification and can be used to expedite your citizenship application.”

Lewis nods thoughtfully. “And what about privacy? Given our high profiles, we’re concerned about information leaks.”

“An excellent question,” Dr. Santos says. “We take privacy very seriously, especially in high-profile cases like yours. All information related to your bond and Y/N’s presence in Brazil will be classified at the highest level. Only a select few government officials will have access to this information.”

You feel a surge of gratitude towards this woman and the country she represents. “Dr. Santos, I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”

She smiles warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Protecting soulmates is not just my job, it’s my passion. Now, let’s discuss some of the support services available to you.”

As the car pulls up to a nondescript building, Dr. Santos continues her explanation. “We offer counseling services specifically tailored for soulmates who have faced separation or threats to their bond. These services are completely confidential and can be invaluable in helping you process your experiences and adjust to your new life.”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I think ... I think that might be really helpful.”

Lewis wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “We’ll get through this together, love. Whatever you need.”

Dr. Santos leads you into the building and up to a comfortably furnished office. As you all take seats, she pulls out some forms.

“Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” she says gently. “But I’d like to start the official registration process, if you’re ready. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you’ll have legal protection.”

You look at Lewis, who gives you an encouraging nod. “Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

As Dr. Santos begins to explain the forms, a thought occurs to you. “Dr. Santos, what about Lewis? How will all of this affect his career?”

Dr. Santos smiles. “I’m glad you asked. Mr. Hamilton, as a Brazilian citizen, you have the right to have your soulmate with you wherever your career takes you. We can provide diplomatic assistance to ensure Y/N can travel with you freely, without risk of detention or forced return to the UK.”

Lewis grins, looking relieved. “That’s fantastic news. I was worried I might have to give up racing.”

“Not at all,” Dr. Santos assures him. “We believe that soulmates should support each other’s dreams and ambitions. Our laws are designed to facilitate that.”

As you begin filling out the forms, a sense of surreal calm washes over you. For the first time in your life, you feel truly protected, truly free to be with the person you’re meant to be with.

“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Santos says as you finish the paperwork. “As part of our soulmate protection program, we offer a safe house service. It’s a secure location where you can stay while you adjust to your new situation and decide on your next steps. Would you be interested in that?”

You and Lewis exchange a look. “I think that might be a good idea,” Lewis says. “At least for a little while, until we figure things out. My home here isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

You nod in agreement. “Yes, please. That sounds perfect.”

Dr. Santos smiles, clearly pleased. “Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements right away. The location is completely confidential and guarded 24/7. You’ll be safe there.”

As she stands to make some calls, you turn to Lewis, feeling overwhelmed by everything that’s happened.

“Lewis,” you say softly, “I can’t believe you’ve done all this for me. You’ve turned your whole life upside down.”

He takes your hands in his, his eyes shining with emotion. “You’re my soulmate. My whole life was leading up to finding you. Everything else? It’s just details we’ll figure out together.”

You lean in, resting your forehead against his. For the first time since you can remember, you feel truly, completely safe. Protected not just by laws and governments, but by the love of the person you were always meant to find.

As Dr. Santos returns to finalize the arrangements, you realize that this isn’t just the end of your old life. It’s the beginning of something new, something wonderful. A life where you’re free to love, free to be yourself, free to explore the bond that fate has given you.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know now that you won’t face them alone. You have Lewis, you have the protection of Brazilian law, and most importantly, you have hope. The future, once so terrifying, now shines with possibility.

And as you leave the office hand in hand with Lewis, ready to start your new life together, you can’t help but smile. Because for the first time, you’re not running away from something.

You’re running towards it.

***

The roar of engines and the buzz of excitement fill the air as you stand at the entrance to the Autódromo José Carlos Pace. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand is warm and steady in yours, a constant reminder that you’re not alone.

“Are you ready for this?” Lewis asks, his brown eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “As ready as I’ll ever be. It’s time to stop hiding.”

Lewis nods, a proud smile lighting up his face. “That’s my girl. Remember, whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

With one last reassuring squeeze, Lewis leads you into the paddock. The moment you step into view, a hush falls over the nearby crowd. Then, like a wave, whispers and exclamations ripple outward.

“Is that ...”

“It can’t be ...”

“The princess!”

“With Lewis Hamilton?”

Cameras flash in a frenzy, and reporters surge forward, held back only by the security team flanking you and Lewis. You keep your head high, your hand firmly in Lewis’ as you make your way through the paddock.

A brave reporter manages to shout a question over the commotion. “Your Highness! Is it true you’ve been in hiding in Brazil?”

You pause, looking to Lewis. He gives you an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, you turn to face the press.

“Yes, it’s true,” you say, your voice steady despite your nerves. “I’ve been in Brazil for the past few months, under the protection of the Brazilian government.”

The questions come rapid-fire after that.

“Why did you leave the UK?”

“Are you and Lewis Hamilton really soulmates?”

“What does the royal family have to say about this?”

Lewis steps forward, his arm protectively around your waist. “We’ll be holding a press conference later to address all your questions. For now, we ask for your patience and understanding as we prepare for the race.”

As you continue through the paddock, you can’t help but think back on the tumultuous months that led to this moment ...

The first few weeks in Brazil had been a whirlwind of paperwork, security briefings, and adjusting to your new reality. You and Lewis had stayed in the safe house provided by the Brazilian government, venturing out only when necessary and always under heavy guard.

One morning, about a month into your stay, Dr. Santos had arrived with a grim expression.

“We’ve intercepted some concerning communications,” she had said, her usual calm demeanor tinged with worry. “It seems the British royal family has intensified their search for you, Y/N. They��re making threats.”

You had felt your heart drop. “What kind of threats?”

Dr. Santos had hesitated before answering. “They’re threatening to use their diplomatic influence to pressure Brazil into returning you. They’re also ... they’re suggesting that you might be mentally unfit, that you’ve been coerced or manipulated.”

Lewis had immediately pulled you close, his jaw clenched in anger. “They can’t do that. We won’t let them.”

“And we won’t,” Dr. Santos had assured you both. “Our stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable. But I want you to be prepared. This might get ugly.”

And it had. Over the next few months, your family had tried everything. Diplomatic pressure, media manipulation, even attempts to infiltrate Brazilian government systems to locate you. But Brazil had stood firm, and you had remained safe.

A commotion near the Mercedes garage snaps you back to the present. You see a group of men in dark suits pushing their way through the crowd, their expressions grim and determined. Your blood runs cold as you recognize one of them — your father’s head of security.

“Lewis,” you whisper urgently, “they’re here.”

Lewis’ arm tightens around you as he quickly assesses the situation. “Stay calm. Remember the plan.”

As the men approach, the lead one steps forward, his voice loud and authoritative. “Your Royal Highness, by order of His Majesty the King, you are to return to the United Kingdom immediately.”

You feel all eyes on you, the paddock having gone deathly quiet. Taking a deep breath, you step forward, your voice clear and steady. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I am here of my own free will, protected by Brazilian law as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen.”

The man’s expression hardens. “Your Highness, please don’t make this difficult. Your family is concerned for your well-being. They believe you may have been coerced or manipulated-”

“The only manipulation here,” Lewis interrupts, his voice sharp, “is coming from those who would separate soulmates for political gain.”

Just then, Dr. Santos appears, flanked by Brazilian officials. “Gentlemen,” she says coolly to the British security team, “I’m afraid you’re overstepping. Y/N is under the protection of the Brazilian government. Any attempt to remove her against her will would be considered means for an international incident.”

The head of security sputters, clearly not having expected this level of resistance. “This is a family matter-”

“No,” you interject, your voice stronger now. “This is a matter of human rights. The right to be with one’s soulmate. A right that Brazil recognizes and protects.”

Dr. Santos nods approvingly. “Furthermore, any claims of mental unfitness have been thoroughly disproven by independent psychiatric evaluation. Y/N is here of her own free will, in full possession of her faculties.”

The security team looks at each other uncertainly, clearly realizing they’re outmatched. The lead man makes one last attempt. “Your Highness, please. Your family misses you. They want you to come home.”

For a moment, you feel a pang of sadness for the life you left behind. But then you feel Lewis’ steady presence beside you, and you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

“I am home,” you say softly but firmly. “My home is with my soulmate, wherever that may be.”

The man opens his mouth to argue further, but Dr. Santos cuts him off. “Gentlemen, I believe it’s time for you to leave. Unless you’d like us to involve the authorities?”

Realizing they’re defeated, the security team begins to retreat. As they leave, you hear murmurs of admiration and support from the crowd that has gathered to watch the confrontation.

Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace. “You were amazing,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

As you pull back, you see reporters clamoring for comments, their cameras flashing incessantly. Dr. Santos steps forward to address them.

“A full press conference will be held later today,” she announces. “For now, I can confirm that Y/N, formally known as Her Royal Highness, is here legally and of her own free will as the soulmate of Lewis Hamilton. She is under the full protection of Brazilian law, and any attempts to interfere with their bond will be met with the full force of our legal system.”

As Dr. Santos continues to field questions, Lewis turns to you. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m more than okay. For the first time, I feel ... free.”

Lewis grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because we’ve got a race to win.”

As you make your way to the Mercedes garage, you’re overwhelmed by the support you receive. Team members, other drivers, and even fans call out words of encouragement.

“We’ve got your back, Y/N!”

“Love wins!”

“You show ‘em, Lewis!”

Inside the garage, the team greets you warmly. Toto approaches with a smile.

“Y/N, Lewis,” he says, shaking both your hands. “That was quite an entrance. Are you sure you’re up for all this today?”

You nod firmly. “Absolutely. It’s time to show the world that love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger.”

Lewis beams at your words. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, let’s go win this race, yeah?”

As Lewis begins his pre-race preparations, you find a quiet corner to collect your thoughts. The events of the past few months flash through your mind — the fear, the uncertainty, but also the overwhelming love and support you’ve received.

You think about your family, about the life you left behind. There’s sadness there, but no regret. You’ve found something more precious than any crown — the freedom to love, to be yourself, to follow your heart.

A gentle hand on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. You look up to see Lewis, now in his race suit, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks softly.

You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How grateful I am for you, for Brazil, for everyone who’s supported us.”

Lewis leans into your touch, his eyes shining with emotion. “We’re the lucky ones, Y/N. To have found each other, to have this chance at happiness. And I promise you, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret your choice.”

You stand, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I could never regret choosing you. You’re my soulmate, my home, my everything.”

As you lean in for a kiss, the garage erupts in cheers and whistles. You break apart, laughing, to see the entire team watching with grins on their faces.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Toto calls out good-naturedly. “Save it for after the race. Lewis, you’ve got a championship to chase.”

Lewis gives you one last quick kiss before pulling on his helmet. “Watch me fly, Princess,” he says with a wink.

As he heads out to the track, you take your place in the garage, surrounded by your new family — the team that has embraced you without question. You feel a sense of belonging, of purpose, that you’ve never experienced before.

The roar of engines fills the air as the race begins. You watch Lewis navigate the track with precision and skill, your heart swelling with pride and love. This is your life now — the excitement of race day, the thrill of competition, but most importantly, the joy of being with your soulmate.

As Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, the garage erupts in celebration. You rush out to meet him in parc fermé, not caring about protocol or propriety. Lewis sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around as the crowd cheers.

In that moment, with the sun shining down and the sound of celebration all around, you know that you’ve made the right choice. This is where you belong — by Lewis’ side, free to love and be loved, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

Together.

***

The familiar scent of motor oil and rubber fills the air as you step onto British soil for the first time in over a year. Silverstone buzzes with excitement, but you can’t shake the nervous energy coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand finds yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, nodding. “I think so. It’s just ... strange being back.”

Lewis pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Remember, you’re not alone. We’ve got security everywhere, and I’m right here with you.”

As if on cue, the head of your security team, a tall, no-nonsense woman named Maria, approaches. “Everything’s clear, Ms. Y/N. We’ve swept the entire area and have eyes on all entry points.”

You smile gratefully at her. “Thank you, Maria. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Maria’s stern expression softens slightly. “Just doing our job, ma’am. Your safety is our top priority.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but notice the stares and whispers that follow you. Some are curious, others admiring, and a few ... less than friendly. But your security team forms a protective barrier around you and Lewis, keeping any potential trouble at bay.

“Y/N! Lewis!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Fred Vasseur approaching, a warm smile on his face. “Welcome back to Silverstone. How are you holding up?”

“It’s ... intense,” you admit. “But I’m glad to be here, supporting Lewis.”

Fred nods understandingly. “Well, you’ve got the whole team behind you. Anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to answer to all of Ferrari.”

As you continue through the paddock, greeting team members and other drivers, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Not just by the curious onlookers, but by someone ... familiar.

That’s when you see him. Standing near the VIP area, looking as regal and composed as ever, is your brother.

Your heart skips a beat. You haven’t seen Edward since that fateful day you ran away. Lewis, sensing your tension, follows your gaze.

“Is that ...” he asks quietly.

You nod, unable to find words. Lewis turns to Maria. “Can you make sure we have a private moment?”

Maria nods, already signaling to her team. Within moments, they’ve created a small bubble of privacy around you and Edward.

Edward approaches slowly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you both just stand there, years of unspoken words hanging between you.

Then, to your surprise, Edward’s composure cracks. His eyes fill with tears as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You cling to him, your own tears falling freely. “Eddie ... I’m so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just ... I couldn’t ...”

Edward pulls back, holding you at arm’s length. His eyes roam your face, as if memorizing every detail. “Don’t apologize. Not ever. What you did ... Y/N, I am so incredibly proud of you.”

His words catch you off guard. “Proud? But I abandoned the family, my duties ...”

Edward shakes his head firmly. “You chose love. You chose happiness. You did what I was too weak to do.”

You glance at Lewis, who’s standing a respectful distance away, giving you this moment with your brother. “Edward, this is Lewis. My soulmate.”

Edward extends his hand to Lewis. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lewis. Thank you for protecting my sister and giving her the happiness she deserves.”

Lewis shakes his hand, his expression sincere. “The honor is mine, Your Highness. Y/N is the bravest, most amazing person I know. I’m just lucky to be part of her life.”

Edward’s smile is tinged with sadness. “Please, call me Edward. And you’re right, she is amazing. Always has been.”

You look at your brother closely, noticing the lines of stress around his eyes, the slight slump in his shoulders. “Eddie ... how are you? Really?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s ... not easy. The family is in turmoil after your departure. Father is furious, Mother is heartbroken, and I’m ... well, I’m trying to hold it all together.”

“And Lily?” You ask softly, referring to Edward’s soulmate. “Have you heard from her?”

Edward’s expression clouds over. “No. Not since ... not since that day.”

You take your brother’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s not too late, you know. You could still reach out to her.”

Edward laughs bitterly. “And say what? ‘Sorry I let them burn off my soulmate mark and married someone else. Want to grab coffee?’”

Lewis steps forward, his voice gentle but firm. “With all due respect, Your High- Edward, it’s never too late. The bond between soulmates ... it’s not something that can be erased, no matter what’s done to the physical mark.”

Edward looks at Lewis, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You really believe that?”

Lewis nods. “I do. Y/N and I found each other against all odds. Who’s to say you and Lily can’t do the same?”

You squeeze Edward’s hand again. “Eddie, you deserve to be happy. You deserve love. It’s not too late to choose yourself, to choose love.”

Edward looks torn, glancing around at the crowds, the cameras, the weight of expectation that’s always surrounded you both. “But the family ...”

“Will still be there,” you say softly. “But you’ll be facing them as your true self, with your soulmate by your side. It makes all the difference, trust me.”

Your brother is quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with years of ingrained duty and expectation. Finally, he looks up, a new determination in his eyes.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice growing stronger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve spent too long living for everyone else. It’s time I lived for myself.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Does this mean ...”

Edward nods, a mix of fear and excitement in his eyes. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to find Lily. I’m going to make things right.”

You throw your arms around your brother, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Eddie. And I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

As you pull back, you see tears in Edward’s eyes, but also a lightness that you haven’t seen in years. “Thank you. For showing me that it’s possible to choose love. For being brave enough to pave the way.”

Lewis steps forward, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “If you need any help — legal advice, security, anything — just say the word. You’re family now.”

Edward looks at Lewis gratefully. “Thank you. I might just take you up on that.”

Just then, Maria approaches discreetly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to move. The press is getting restless.”

You nod, turning back to Edward. “Will you be okay?”

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “I will be. For the first time in a long time, I think I really will be.”

As you prepare to part ways, Edward pulls you in for one last hug. “I love you, little sister. Thank you for reminding me what’s truly important.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” you whisper back. “Go find your happiness. You deserve it.”

With one last squeeze, Edward steps back. As he walks away, you see him pull out his phone, a look of determination on his face. You have a feeling you know exactly who he’s about to call.

Lewis wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You okay, love?”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear. “More than okay. I feel ... hopeful. For Eddie, for us, for everything.”

As you make your way back through the paddock, you’re struck by how different everything feels. The stares don’t bother you as much, the whispers fade into background noise. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, with the person you’re meant to be with.

“You know,” Lewis says as you reach the Ferrari garage, “I think I’m going to win this race.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what makes you so sure?”

Lewis grins, pulling you close. “Because I’ve got my lucky charm by my side. How can I lose?”

You laugh, the sound light and free. “Well, in that case, you’d better not disappoint. I expect nothing less than a victory, Sir Hamilton.”

As Lewis leans in for a kiss, you’re vaguely aware of cameras flashing and people cheering. But none of that matters. What matters is this moment, this love, this life you’ve chosen.

You think back to a year ago, when you were terrified of finding your soulmate, of the consequences it would bring. Now, standing here at Silverstone, with Lewis by your side and the hope of your brother finding his own happiness, you realize that choosing love wasn’t just the brave choice.

It was the only choice.

As Lewis heads off to prepare for the race, you take your place in the garage. The roar of engines fills the air, and you feel a surge of excitement.

This is your life now. Supporting Lewis, championing love, and showing the world that sometimes, the greatest act of duty is being true to yourself.

As the race begins, you watch Lewis tear around the track, your heart swelling with pride and love. You may not wear a tiara anymore, but you’ve gained something far more precious — the freedom to love, to choose, to be yourself.

And as the chequered flag waves and Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, you know that this victory isn’t just his.

It’s yours. It’s Edward’s. It’s everyone who’s ever had the courage to choose love over duty, happiness over expectation.

As you rush to congratulate Lewis, wrapped in his arms as the crowd cheers, you know that this is just the beginning. There will be challenges ahead, obstacles to overcome. But with love by your side and the strength to be true to yourself, you’re ready to face whatever comes.

Because in the end, love always wins. And you? You’re living proof of that.

***

The warm Brazilian sun streams through the windows of the spacious beachfront home, filling the living room with a golden glow. The sound of children’s laughter mingles with the distant crash of waves, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

You’re seated on the plush carpet, surrounded by an array of colorful toys. Your three-year-old daughter, Emilia, is busily stacking blocks, her little face scrunched in concentration. Across from you, Edward is attempting to wrangle his own two-year-old son, James, who seems more interested in knocking down Emilia’s creations than building his own.

“James, darling, let’s build our own tower, shall we?” Edward coaxes gently, redirecting his son’s attention.

You can’t help but smile at the scene. Five years ago, you never could have imagined this — you and Edward, raising your children together, free from the constraints of royal duty.

The sound of a door opening draws your attention. Lewis walks in, his arms full of grocery bags, closely followed by Lily.

“We come bearing snacks!” Lewis announces with a grin.

Emilia’s head snaps up at the sight of her favorite person. “Daddy!” She squeals, abandoning her blocks and running to Lewis.

Lewis sets down the bags just in time to scoop up his daughter, peppering her face with kisses. “Hello, my little racer. Have you been good for Mummy?”

Emilia nods enthusiastically. “I builded a big tower!”

“Built, sweetheart,” you correct gently, getting to your feet. “And it was a very impressive tower indeed.”

Lewis sets Emilia down and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “And how’s my other favorite girl doing?”

You smile, leaning into his embrace. “Better now that you’re home. How was the market?”

“Busy,” Lily chimes in, setting down her own bags. “But we managed to get everything on the list, plus a few extras.”

Edward stands, hoisting James onto his hip. “Extras, you say? Let me guess — more of those brigadeiros that you’re definitely not addicted to, right, love?”

Lily’s cheeks flush slightly as she laughs. “I plead the fifth. This baby wants what it wants.”

Your eyes light up at the reminder. Lily is five months pregnant with their second child, and you’re all buzzing with excitement.

“Speaking of the baby,” you say, moving to help unpack the groceries, “have you two decided if you’re going to find out the gender?”

Edward and Lily exchange a look. “We’re still debating,” Edward admits. “Part of me wants to know, but there’s also something nice about the surprise.”

Lewis chuckles, joining you in the kitchen. “I remember that debate. Though if I recall correctly, someone couldn’t handle the suspense and made me call the doctor at two in the morning to find out.”

You playfully swat his arm. “Hey, you were just as curious as I was!”

As you all work together to put away the groceries and prepare snacks for the kids, you’re struck by how natural this all feels. The easy banter, the shared responsibilities, the love that permeates every interaction. It’s a far cry from the rigid formality of your royal upbringing.

“You know,” Edward says, as if reading your thoughts, “sometimes I still can’t believe this is our life now.”

You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s so different from what we always thought our futures would be.”

Lily comes up behind Edward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Different, but better, right?”

Edward turns, pulling her close. “Infinitely better. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As you watch your brother with his soulmate, you feel a wave of happiness and gratitude wash over you. It hadn’t been easy for Edward to follow in your footsteps, to give up his place in the line of succession and choose love over duty. But seeing him now, so relaxed and genuinely happy, you know it was worth every struggle.

“Earth to Y/N,” Lewis’ voice breaks through your reverie. “Where’d you go just now?”

You smile, shaking your head. “Just thinking about how far we’ve all come. How different things could have been.”

Lewis nods, understanding in his eyes. “Do you ever regret it? Giving up your title, your life in England?”

You don’t hesitate for a second. “Never. This life, with you, with our family — it’s more than I ever dreamed possible.”

A sudden crash from the living room interrupts the moment. You all rush in to find James standing triumphantly atop a mountain of scattered blocks, while Emilia looks on in horror.

“James Edward Henry Albert Windsor!” Lily exclaims, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her amusement. “What have we said about destroying other people’s creations?”

James, looking not at all repentant, grins widely. “I king of the castle!”

Edward struggles to keep a straight face as he lifts his son off the block mountain. “Yes, well, kings should be builders, not destroyers. Let’s clean this up and then we can all build a castle together, okay?”

As you all pitch in to help clean up the blocks, Emilia tugs on your sleeve. “Mummy, will James be a real king someday?”

The question catches you off guard. You exchange a look with Edward, unsure how to explain the complicated reality of your family’s situation.

Lewis kneels down next to Emilia, his voice gentle. “No, sweetheart. James won’t be a king and you won’t be a princess. But that’s okay, because you get to be something even better.”

Emilia’s eyes widen with curiosity. “What’s that, Daddy?”

Lewis smiles, pulling her into a hug. “You get to be yourself. You get to choose who you want to be and what you want to do with your life. And that’s much more special.”

You feel tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the simple beauty of Lewis’ words. This is why you left, why you chose this life. So that your children could have the freedom you and Edward never had growing up.

As the afternoon wears on, you all migrate to the back patio. The kids play in the sand under the watchful eyes of their parents, while you, Lewis, Edward, and Lily relax on the comfortable outdoor furniture.

“So,” Lily says, her hand resting on her growing belly, “have you two given any thought to expanding your own family?”

You and Lewis share a knowing look. “Actually,” you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice, “we’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

Edward raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell, little sister.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “We’re thinking of adopting. There are so many children out there who need loving homes, and we have more than enough love to give.”

“That’s wonderful!” Lily exclaims, her eyes shining. “Oh, Emilia would love a little brother or sister.”

You nod, watching your daughter play. “We think so too. We’re just starting the process, but it feels right.”

Edward leans forward, his expression serious. “Have you thought about how this might affect things back in England? The press ...”

You sigh, having expected this question. “We have. And honestly, we’ve decided that it doesn’t matter what they think. This is our life, our family. We’re not going to let fear of judgment or outdated institutions dictate our choices anymore.”

Lewis nods in agreement. “We’ve already faced the worst they could throw at us. We came out stronger. Whatever comes next, we can handle it together.”

Edward’s serious expression melts into a proud smile. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry, old habits die hard I suppose. I’m thrilled for you both, truly.”

As the conversation flows, touching on everything from potential names for Lily and Edward’s baby to Lewis’ upcoming ambassador campaign, you’re struck by how perfectly imperfect this life is. It’s messy and chaotic at times, full of unexpected challenges and joy in equal measure. But it’s real, and it’s yours.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. James and Emilia, tired from their day of play, curl up in their fathers’ laps. As you watch your brother gently stroke his son’s hair, you remember a conversation from years ago.

“Eddie,” you say softly, “do you remember what you told me the day they ... the day they burned off your soulmate mark?”

Edward looks up, his eyes clouding with the memory. “I told you that if you ever found your soulmate, you should run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

You nod, feeling Lewis’ arm tighten around you. “I’m so glad I took your advice. And I’m even more glad that you eventually followed it too.”

Edward smiles, looking down at James and then over at Lily. “So am I, Y/N. So am I.”

As the evening draws in, you all move inside. The kids are put to bed, their excited chatter about building sandcastles and racing cars fading into peaceful sleep. You, Lewis, Edward, and Lily settle in the living room, glasses of wine in hand (sparkling juice for Lily).

“A toast,” Lewis proposes, raising his glass. “To family, to love, and to the courage to choose our own path.”

“To freedom,” Edward adds, his eyes shining with emotion.

“To second chances,” Lily chimes in, her hand resting on her belly.

You raise your own glass, feeling a swell of emotion. “To us. All of us. And to the beautiful, chaotic, perfectly imperfect life we’ve built together.”

As you clink glasses, you catch Lewis’ eye. In that moment, you’re transported back to that day at Silverstone, when you first ran into each other. The fear, the excitement, the life-changing decision you made in an instant.

You wouldn’t change a thing.

As the night wears on and conversation flows freely, you realize that this — this warmth, this love, this freedom — this is what happily ever after really looks like. It’s not a fairy tale ending, but a beginning. A beginning of a life filled with love, choice, and the joy of being truly yourself.

And as you curl up in bed that night, Lewis’ arms around you and the sound of the ocean in the distance, you know that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Your family’s story is still being written. And you can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings.

[bettsfic]

things i've learned about cooking after finally getting the hang of it after 20 years of trying and also finally organizing my kitchen:

note that i mostly cook for myself so a lot of this won't apply to people who have to cook for their whole family

invest in good storage solutions. buy the pop top pasta holder, the fancy glass tupperware, the very pretty candy jar. if you like looking at it and it's something you'll use for years, maybe the rest of your life, it is worth the money

that said, depending on your budget, making a list of all of said storage solutions (and utensils, tools, appliances, etc.) and buying one a month is a good way to spread it out. again, if it lasts a lifetime and you'll use it, it's worth it

cook food you love. this is such a simple thing and for some people probably obvious, but as someone who is not at all a picky eater, for years i found myself only cooking things that were tasty but not to *my* tastes, just because the fancy recipe i found told me it was good

another note about cooking to your own tastes: if you're just starting out cooking for yourself, don't bother thinking about what's healthy. focus on making meals that you want to shovel into your face. healthy can happen once cooking gets easier. the idea is that you're learning to love food you make *more* than food that can be delivered

THINK SMALL. i, a midwesterner, seem to be genetically predisposed to buying the most giant of all things, because you can use big stuff for small things but not the other way around. for example, if you're only cooking for yourself or one other person, you can buy one of those little half baking sheets instead of a full one. a leeettle skillet for your one grilled cheese instead of hauling out the one that can fit four. the bigger one is heavy and annoying to clean, and even though that might not seem like a big deal, when you're weighing your options, these kinds of hurdles start to add up. again, if it will encourage you to cook, it is worth investing in

speaking of hurdles, make everything as easy as possible. i am a perfectionist. i like doing things the Right Way. so when a chef says, "don't use cooking wine, use real wine" when i don't buy alcohol, and "the key to good asparagus is only buying it in season" when i don't even know what that season is or where to buy asparagus locally, it just means i won't try that recipe even if i was excited to, because i've been taught (get ready for it) it's not worth doing unless you do it right. but fuck that. you're not aiming for the best, you're aiming for food you're excited to eat

when i say "as easy as possible" i mean so easy may that it might even become fun. buy jarred garlic, an electric can opener, pre-cut vegetables. pots and pans you think are cute. mats for your feet. the prettiest apron you've ever seen. take note of anything that pings your brain as "hard" even if your natural inclination is to dismiss it because *other* people don't find it hard. write it down. figure out a way to make it easier or better

cooking is an inherently sensory experience. if you have sensory issues, your goal is to accommodate yourself to the highest possible degree. if you avoid washing your hands because you hate the smell of your soap, throw it out (or give it away) and go on a journey to find soap that's more pleasing to you

if you research cooking, especially on youtube, you'll find a lot of youtubers who try to encourage you to make excess so you can freeze it, meal prep so you don't have to worry about cooking throughout the week, etc. these are great tips but again: none of that stuff is worth thinking about until cooking becomes easier. just think about one meal at a time

if you hate leftovers, make sure you're only cooking single-serving easy meals or slightly more difficult double-serving meals. don't bother with 4 servings of something you might hate. for the next-day serving, it'll probably taste better if you heat it up in the microwave on 70% or 50% power. this has saved like a hundred otherwise disgusting meals for me

i know those weekly meal box subscriptions are basically a scam and crazy expensive, but i bought 1-2 a month for a year with the same service and i started to understand the techniques they used above and beyond the recipes they were providing. it's really eye-opening to realize one of your favorite meals is really only 6 ingredients and you know *how* to put them together without reading any instructions

honestly the meal box was not more expensive for me than my food budget. everyone says buying grocery food is way cheaper, but if you're buying 2lbs of rice just to cook 2 cups and then you're never going to cook rice anymore, that's still the cost of that whole bag of rice. with a meal box, they only give you exactly what you need for the recipe. combined with going out to eat and getting delivery, 2 boxes a month ended up being about the same price

if you're the kind of person who needs to understand the theory behind basically everything in order to anchor the skills it requires, i highly recommend the book Ruhlman's Twenty. it goes through the science of cooking like heating food and why salt makes things taste good

once you get into a groove and you have a good idea of your favorite ingredients, pick 40 to always have on hand so that you're not buying for individual recipes and you can also organize your kitchen more easily. with 40 base ingredients you know that unless there's a special occasion, you'll basically only have these items to find a place for

if you work from home, break dinner into prep time and cook time. if you prep dinner when you go eat lunch, it's very hard to say "i just don't feel like cooking" when it comes to dinner time, because 1) all your food is out and ready to go, and 2) you're already done with half the work

progress and improvement may be slow. be patient with yourself. cooking is a life-long commitment and so you're not in any rush. be honest to yourself about both your ambitions and limitations, and set up your kitchen and shopping list to suit your needs

food is necessary to live. if you have to choose only one aspect of your life to focus on improving, i recommend cooking. even though we live in a convenience economy and can get basically anything delivered, i find i'm so much happier now. i have more energy. i sleep better. cooking food you love is one of the best gifts you can give yourself

[the-tarot-witch22]

Your life purpose - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post | Give away

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 8 of wands, ace of pentacles, and the moon)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is you guys are meant to experience new things in your life, to travel the world, or new places, many of you might be travellers or even, if you haven't travelled, then you guys might love to travel or foreign culture might attract you a lot, I also feel this pile has good intuition like they know thigs, sort of psychic or even Deja vu, might happen with you guys, I also feel in this life time, you might and tend to rush things, like you don't like to stay at one place longer than few hours, you need to keep moving or even feel productive, I also feel, in this life time you are meant to be your own person like many of you even have most independent issues, I also feel you are supposed to be financially secure, and if things don't go your way then it will, it just means there are things that needs to be better or you need to be better before you get the result you want, I also feel you are mean to help people, or grow yourself personally and professionally everything i feel for this pile is definitely related to your self, I also wanted to clarify more, but I got the feeling that as you grow, age wise, experience wise , you will figure it out yourself, and i also heard "don't be discourage, with time you will get the things you deserve", when i said people i meant emotionally and financially not like give everything at your own expense but simply means help a little if you can, it will do you good, ifykwim,I also sense a Capricorn , taurus and Sagittarius energy here, sun, moon and rising, anyhow I also feel in this life time you are meant to go through numerous transformations, and find your own path as you move on, i also feel there might be few or many lessons you could have gotten in friendships or if you ever were in relationship, or even your homelife might have taught you a lot. Some of you i need to say might get anxious too, like little things worries you so i have been called to say, just know be calm and be confident, and know that it's not you, it's them. and if it's you then you will get better, and by that i mean problems you might have or had.

Alright pile 1, that's all i got for you, all i wanna say is you guys are going on right path, and believe in yourself a little more!

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - The lovers, King of swords, 9 of wands)

Okay so the very first thing i felt and heard is you guys might love, love. or be in love, sort of hopeless romantic i might add lol. But anyhow , let's dive deeper, you know the funniest thing? I feel this group is meant to find their other half in this life time, not saying that's your only purpose, but meeting your person is one of them and really a priority I feel in past life, you might have promised them to meet you again, and i felt goosebumps all over my body, totally unrelated but needed to be said. anyhow i also feel this pile are meant to find themselves, but not as much as their person, i feel there might be a urge of finding someone, and it's not because you are desperate it's because you have promised your person in your previous lifetime, and that is why you feel restless, like a fear of them not fulfilling their promise or you who could not be able to fulfill their promise, and that's a fear i see you feel. I also feel, there might be confusion in taking or making new decision you tend to overanalyse things, don't do that, if you feel your gut is right? go with it! no need to be too scared and live in "what if's", I also feel this group is academically intelligent or if academically average i might say you guys could be very witty, like you always have words ready to say, and god forbid if someone gets on your wrong side, you either cut them off, or show them who they actually messed with. anyways! I also feel you guys are meant to face some transformation in your adult life. There might have had some delays in good things, because universe prepares you first, I also feel check out pile 1 , there might be some messages for you there, I also feel you are meant to balance yourself, emotionally and in your personal life, I also feel one of your purpose is you need to stand up for yourself, to finally know your worth and what you were made for, I also feel there might be some of you who is confused for their career, like you might not like traditional things, do things your way or unconventional, I also feel you are meant to break generational curses, new things or bloodline starts with you, new purpose too!

Alright pile 2, that's all i feel for you guys, but i might say, your future person is coming soon, not gonna lie, they just kept giving me messages me lmao, they do miss you! so don't worry things will work out for you guys~

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - 8 of cups, 9 of cups, and the world)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is, you are meant to complete karmic cycles in your life. Let's dive deeper! I also feel this group might have felt and experienced betrayal a lot, like in your friendships or even relationships, it's specific for few of you, but i am getting someone cheated on you? like which gave you lots of trust issues. But anyhow! I feel this group is meant to love themselves and learn how to be alone like not too co dependent or having your happiness and anything dependent on anyone but you, I also feel, this group might isolate themselves a lot, if something hurts them, and they tend to take a lot to recover, I also feel in this life time, you are meant to grow on your own, universe means to tell you that you have everything in your heart , that you find in some place else, so embrace that, even with help of therapy or if not, taking it easy and one at times, I also feel this group is very emotional like, very sensitive, I also heard "heart of gold", so you people are meant to find that purpose on your own and not to take people's harsh words to heart, I also feel you are meant to feel happiness, if you haven't had many happy moments, the i see in future there is so much more for you, i also "heard keep going", "being alone is not a curse but a blessing", right person knows that, I also feel you are meant to use your skills, for good, many of you might be super creative or have good communication skills, but anyhow you are meant to express yourself your voice, not bottle up, let people know how special you are, I also feel you guys are supposed to go through hard time, or have gone through hard times, but don't be scared i feel it's just a small debt you had from past life, and in future you would be much more happier you have ever been!

Okay pile 3 - this is all i got for you, but you know guys you are doing amazing! Take it easy~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[katakaluptastrophy]

Can we talk about Magnus in Harrow the Ninth? Because there's a tendency to paint him as this constantly cheerful figure and he's not - he's just very Fifth.

He's the only person who seems even slightly upset about the whole gun-toting horror thing:

“Did the Sleeper get them?”

“Only by assumption,” said Harrowhark, while Abigail’s dolt of a husband said, “I bloody hope so.”

“Magnus,” Abigail said, a touch disapprovingly.

“Well, if the Sleeper didn’t, that’s two maniacs with an ancient weapon and a love of blowing off faces, dear,” said Magnus.

And he's got a very low opinion of Silas:

"She won’t tell me what he said to her, just that he ‘was horrid.’”

“Cheeky little so-and-so,” said Magnus. “If he were my son, I’d give him something to think about. I’m not surprised he’s gone to ground.”

“I would hope your son might be of different character,” said his wife, half-smiling.

“Protesilaus should have biffed him.”

“It’s strange,” said Abigail, ignoring her husband’s exhortations to biffing.

Behind the jolly Jeeves and Wooster-esque talk of biffing people, let's remember that this is Magnus - who from Gideon's POV never saw a teenager he didn't want to adopt - earnestly wishing that a grown man had hit a 16 year old kid.

And when Harrow explains that she thinks she saw him jump to his death, Magnus isn't particularly sympathetic:

“We should have made him a greater priority,” said Lady Pent.

Magnus said, “I’m not certain.”

and

“We didn’t need him,” he said bracingly.

Abigail said, “We need everyone.”

“I never thought he was quite the thing.”

This "never quite the thing" line is the same one Abigail uses when she says Ianthe shouldn't have become a Lyctor and you get the sense it has a quite specific meaning on the Fifth. You get the distinct feeling Magnus is saying "good riddance" in response to a teenager's apparent suicide.

And then of course there's Magnus' conversation with Harrow as the River bubble collapses, as Harrow debates whether she should leave her body to Gideon:

She said: “If I go back, it will finally destroy her soul.”

It was Magnus who stepped forward and looked at Harrow face-to-face. And perhaps she felt that more keenly: that he was the man who had, in Gideon’s own words a lifetime ago, been nice to her cavalier. His mouth was hard now, but his eyes were as kind as they had ever been. And kindness was a knife.

He doesn't pull any punches in laying out his understanding of the situation to Harrow:

“This whole thing happened because you wouldn’t face up to Gideon dying,” he said, which was a stab as precise as any Nonius had managed. “I don’t blame you. But where would you be, right now, if you’d said: She is dead? You’re keeping her things like a lover keeping old notes, but with her death, the stuff that made her Gideon was destroyed. That’s how Lyctorhood works, isn’t it? She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”

His wife looked at Harrow’s face and murmured, “Magnus, you’ve made your point,” but he uncharacteristically ignored her.

He's trying to get through to her in a very fraught situation, but he's certainly not pulling his punches:

“You’re a smart girl, Harrowhark. You might turn some of that brain to the toughest lesson: that of grief.”

Abigail is also trying to talk her out of things, but she's much more discursive and apologetic. Magnus is kind, but it's kindness as a knife, not a cushion.

Magnus is so often written off as just a silly, goofy character, when he's more complicated than that. He's allowed to have a very real frustration with the River bubble and with Harrow, however much he does also care for her and want to help her.

And you know what, he's a CFO stuck in a horrorscape with his delighted ghost nerd wife and a bunch of soldiers. He runs with it - he cracks one of his House ordinal jokes while physically tackling a gun-toting ghost and makes a decent go at it before getting shot. But he's very much out of his comfort zone, angry, and no longer entirely held back by propriety.

[10byten]

Hey 🖤 I’m starting a story with vampires, interesting creatures and all the chaos that comes with it. It might be a couple parts, maybe more. I’ve got this idea for Yuta, and I thought, “Why not?”. Just trying something new. Hope you like it! ✨

★ Words : 1.6K

- You’ve spent your whole life trapped in this dead-end town, dreaming of something—anything—out of the ordinary. Then he walks in. all long hair, silver rings, and a gaze that pins you to the earth like gravity itself. one accidental touch, and suddenly the world tilts. your heart stutters. the air crackles. he looks at you like he’s just found something he’s spent lifetimes searching for. And he’s not leaving without figuring out why.-

-

Living in a boring, nothing-ever-happens small town had always felt like the curse of your life. Or maybe some kind of cosmic punishment for a crime you don’t remember committing in another lifetime. Most people here were painfully average and weirdly content with their little drama-free lives. Ever since supernatural creatures had gone public, you’d been secretly hoping at least one person in town would turn out to be something interesting—a werewolf, a siren, anything with cool abilities. But nope. No thrilling secrets, no exciting new faces. Just the same old crowd. At least you had Danielle and Jungwoo, your two ride-or-die besties. Growing up together had bonded you forever, and they were the only reason you hadn’t died of sheer boredom yet. Well, them and your job at the town’s coffee shop/bookstore—a literal sanctuary for a bookworm like you. Life felt… stable. Predictable. Too peaceful. Or so you thought.

Jungwoo leaned against your counter, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I got some tea for you.”

“You always have tea for me.” You didn’t even look up from what you were doing.

“This one’s different. Big.”

“Oh, in that case, I’m dying to know.” The sarcasm dripped.

He bumped you with his hip. “You won’t be so cocky when you hear this.”

“Alright, spill before I actually die of suspense.”

“Jessica Rey slept with a vampire last night. Here. In our town.”

You blinked. “What? No way. No vampire would willingly step foot in this hellhole.”

“She met him at a bar in Duskford and, apparently, wasted zero time bringing him home. Never cared much for her, but honestly? Respect. That’s a power move.”

You smirked. “Would you do it?”

“Babe, please. Hell yes. Though I’d rather he be my snack than the other way around.”

“Just don’t get yourself killed over some random hookup.”

“Not just any hookup. The best hookup of my life.”

“Control yourself if you wanna keep hanging out with me.”

“Sorry, love. Once you start, you can’t stop. You’ll understand when it happens.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. Truthfully, you had no idea what sex with someone else could even do to you—no one in this town had ever caught your attention. No one deserved it.

“So... does this mean vampires are just around now?”

“No clue. But honestly? I wouldn’t mind. That said, I’m walking you home tonight. Just in case.”

“Jungwoo, please. You’re cuter than me, you should be worried.”

“Yeah, but baby, I have a weapon on me. No debate.”

“Fine. If you insist.”

You were wiping down the counter when the bell rang. You looked up, expecting your last customer of the night. Then you saw him.

Your heart skipped. Hard.

Tall, dark hair falling in soft waves, nails painted black, fingers adorned with gorgeous rings. A gleaming earring caught the light. His lips were obscenely perfect—heart-shaped, his nose sharp and elegant, high cheekbones casting shadows like he walked straight out of a Renaissance painting. And his eyes—lined in black, deep as an entire galaxy.

You literally forgot how to breathe.

“Good evening.”

His voice was deep, smooth, with that kind of lazy confidence that made your skin prickle. And that smile, oh my—devastating.

You snapped out of it, clearing your throat. “Good evening. Can I get you—uh, serve you something?”

His lips twitched, like he was amused. His gaze lingered. Like he was studying you. “If it’s not too late, an iced Americano. To go.”

You might have sounded a little disappointed at the “to go,” but whatever. It was closing time.

“Of course. Have a seat, I’ll bring it right over.”

Jungwoo was too caught up on his phone to notice him. Probably for the best. Because the whole time you made his drink, you felt it. Even from across the room, his eyes were on you. You swore you could feel his gaze on your skin, burning, searching. You risked another glance. Yep. Still staring. And smirking, like he knew something you didn’t. For a split second, you swore his eyes flashed silver. Oh, you're so screwed.

Like he was looking at you the way someone looks at a meal.

Swallowing hard, you walked over and set his drink down. He slid a bill onto the table. “Keep the change,” he murmured, fingers brushing yours as he reached for the cup. 

It’s just a fleeting touch, nothing really— But it feels like someone just ran an electric current straight down your spine. Your heart skips a beat, and a deep, static hum rings in your ears. Something pulls at you, but you don’t know what. The room tilts, takes on a strange reddish hue, like the air itself is thickening around you. It’s suffocating. Like a storm just erupted inside your skull. Your legs give out. You reach for the back of a chair, desperate for balance— And then, an arm catches you. The moment his skin meets yours again, the sensation slams into you like a tidal wave— Hot. Intense. Overwhelming. Your breath hitches. Fear flashes in your eyes as you look at him, but no words come out. And for a split second—you’re not the only one affected. At your touch, he stumbles too, almost collapsing with you. His brows furrow, like he’s just been hit with something sharp and unpleasant. You’re practically on the floor now, and he’s bent over you, staring. Accusing. Like he’s demanding an answer for whatever the hell just happened. Like you did this to him. You don’t know what he’s expecting you to say. You don’t even know if you’ll ever be able to speak again. Then—his breath catches. His eyes flutter shut. He inhales. His face dips closer to your hair, his grip on you tightening. He breathes you in like you’re the most intoxicating thing he’s ever smelled. A low groan of pleasure rumbled from his throat. His arm tightened, pulling you closer.

You barely registered how close his face was to yours until you felt his breath on your lips.

His mouth parts. "Who are you?" His voice is low. Soft. Laced with something dangerously close to desire.

"I—I…" But nothing comes out.

He tried to move, but his body seemed frozen in place. His fingers slid into your hair, his touch feather-light yet possessive. He was looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole.

And, god, a part of you wanted him to.

A shaky breath left your lips as his fingers brushed your neck, and you instinctively gripped his arm. Your body wasn’t your own anymore—too warm, too lightheaded, too pulled toward him—do something.

His forehead pressed against yours as he whispered “I don’t know if it’s you doing this... but if you want me to help you up, you need to stop.”

His voice was like a spell, dragging you deeper under. And it wrecks you. Your head falls back, a helpless sound escaping your throat. You want it to stop. You need it to stop. And yet— A part of you wants him to stay like this forever. It’s too good. It feels like he’s unraveling you from the inside out.

The second he feels you relax, he knows.

He knows it’s time.

With effortless strength, he lifts you like you weigh nothing and sets you down onto the table behind him. Your mind is spinning. Too fast. Too much. He cups your chin, tilting your face up to his. Your eyes are hazy. Dazed. Strands of your hair have fallen across your face. And he just stares. Like he’s never seen anything like you before. Like you’re otherworldly.

"Who are you?" he murmured again.

"My name is… Y/N." You mumble, barely audible.

“Y/n,” he repeated, like he was testing how your name felt on his tongue. "But...what are you?" His fingers ghost over your cheek. "Why do you make me feel like this?"

His fingers ghosted over your cheek—

Before you could answer, Jungwoo’s voice shattered the trance.

“Oh my god, Y/n, are you okay?”

Jungwoo rushes over, placing a hand on your back. Yuta’s gaze flicks to him, assessing. Who is this guy to you ? But he senses no threat. So he answers, calm and composed. "She just had a little episode. You should get her some water."

Jungwoo hesitates, eyes flicking between you two. But he nods. "Yeah, okay—I'll be right back."

The moment he’s gone, Yuta’s hands frame your face, holding you there. Just looking. Like he’s memorizing you.

"Well." A smirk tugs at his lips. "It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, Y/N, I’m Yuta." His voice drops, softer. "I have to go. Urgent business calls. But don’t worry…" His fingers trace your wrist as he takes your hand. "I’ll be back for you."

You barely manage to shake your head. You don’t want him to go. You need him to stay. You don’t know why.

He caught your wrist, lifting it to his lips. The ghost of a kiss burned into your skin—another shockwave—and then— He was gone.

-

Later, lying on Jungwoo’s couch, you could still feel it. His touch. His eyes on you. The way the whole world had tilted. Jungwoo flopped down beside you.

“Sooo. You gonna tell me who the hell that was?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Are you gonna look for him?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I need to.” You smile, replaying his words in your head.

Jungwoo raised an eyebrow.

“He said he’d come back for me.”

And somehow, you knew he would.

-

I’d love to know what you think about it, don’t hesitate to share your thoughts ! ����

[zeroseuniverse]

Through The Years

Word Count: 1K Summary: “I want to remind you that I can’t drive, let alone operate a time machine.” Pairing: Taeyong X GN Reader

Navigation

You never expected to wake up in the middle of an interrogation. Yet, here you were—seated in a dimly lit room, facing a group of very serious-looking people in suits. And at the center of it all was Taeyong, arms crossed, looking equally confused but somehow still managing to radiate main-character energy.

“Before anybody starts throwing accusations around,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I want to remind you that I can’t drive, let alone operate a time machine.”

The silence that followed was almost comical.

One of the agents—a woman with piercing eyes and a badge that read Temporal Affairs Bureau—exhaled sharply. “And yet, Mr. Lee, here you are. In a year you should not exist in.”

You turned to Taeyong, your jaw dropping. “Wait, what?”

He gave you an apologetic shrug. “Yeah, apparently we’re in the year 2092.”

Your stomach dropped. You were just at a convenience store an hour ago. How did this happen?

The agent narrowed her eyes at both of you. “We have surveillance footage of you two appearing out of thin air in the middle of New Seoul, right next to the Digital Archives. That kind of anomaly doesn’t just happen.”

You rubbed your temples. This had to be some bizarre dream, right?

Taeyong, however, just sighed. “Look, I get that this is all very worrisome for you guys, but trust me, if I had a time machine, do you really think I’d end up in the middle of a city with no money, no plan, and my best friend panicking beside me?”

You blinked. “Wait, I’m your best friend?”

“That’s what you’re focusing on?” he whispered back, but his ears turned red.

The agent tapped her fingers on the table. “Then explain how you got here.”

You and Taeyong exchanged a look.

There was that old, busted arcade machine you were messing with… The one with the weird glowing buttons… And the fact that Taeyong, being Taeyong, decided to kick it when it wouldn’t start.

“Oh,” you muttered. “Oh no.”

Taeyong’s face went blank. “I think we might have broken a time-traveling arcade game.”

The room fell silent again.

Then the agent groaned, rubbing her forehead. “This job is going to kill me.”

Taeyong nudged you. “So, uh… how do we get back?”

You smiled nervously. “I’m guessing we have to fix it.”

The agent sighed. “Or you’re stuck here.”

Taeyong turned to you with an exaggeratedly hopeful look. “At least we’ll have flying cars.”

You smacked his arm. “We’re doomed.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Taeyong said, leaning forward with his hands on the interrogation table like he was about to give the performance of a lifetime. “You’re telling me that somewhere in New Seoul, there is a rogue arcade machine that’s actually a time portal, and instead of being in a museum where it belongs, it’s just… chilling in a convenience store next to banana milk and instant ramen?”

The agent gave him a deadpan stare. “Yes.”

Taeyong turned to you, eyebrows raised. “Okay, but that’s kind of cool, right?”

You groaned, resting your forehead on the table. “Taeyong. We’re literally stranded in the future.”

“Yeah, but at least we didn’t time-travel to, like, the dinosaur era. Think about it—no Wi-Fi, no coffee, and we’d get eaten by something before we even figured out how to start a fire.” He shuddered. “At least here, I can still stream music.”

The agent cleared her throat. “You cannot stream music. Because you don’t exist in this timeline, you have no identification, no credits, and no legal standing. Which means you’re both currently considered highly illegal anomalies in need of containment.”

Taeyong slowly sat back in his chair. “Oh. That sounds… less fun.”

“Way less fun,” you muttered.

Another agent, a tall guy with an impressive mustache, leaned forward. “Unless, of course, you help us.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Define help.”

“Retrieve the arcade machine and reverse the anomaly. If you do that, we send you back to your own time and erase all traces of this incident.”

You exchanged a glance with Taeyong. He lifted a brow. “Sounds simple enough.”

The mustached agent gave him a pointed look. “Did I mention it was stolen two weeks ago by a group of underground tech scavengers?”

There was a pause.

“Okay, yeah, see, that sounds less simple,” Taeyong admitted.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “So, let me get this straight. You’re saying we have to break into a futuristic black-market warehouse, find the only time machine that should not exist, and then somehow use it without knowing how it actually works?”

“Correct.”

You turned to Taeyong. “Wanna just accept our fate and live in the future?”

Taeyong hummed, pretending to think. “Hmm. Tempting. But do you know how expensive rent probably is here?”

Your stomach dropped. “Oh god. You’re right. Let’s steal back the time machine.”

And that was how you and Taeyong found yourselves running through a neon-lit back alley, wearing stolen futuristic trench coats, being chased by three very angry tech scavengers.

“I would just like to point out that this—” you huffed, narrowly dodging a flying metal crate, “—is exactly the kind of situation that happens when you kick things instead of fixing them, Taeyong!”

“In my defense,” he panted, “who builds a time machine into a freaking arcade game and doesn’t label it properly?!”

“They did have a ‘WARNING: DO NOT TOUCH’ sign,” you reminded him.

“I thought it was part of the aesthetic!”

Before you could yell at him further, you both skidded into a massive warehouse, where, sure enough, in the center of the room, was the very same broken arcade machine from your timeline—now hooked up to glowing cables and some futuristic-looking tech.

You let out a breath. “Found it.”

Taeyong grinned. “Great! Now what?”

“…Now we figure out how to make it send us back.”

He blinked. “Oh. I thought you had a plan.”

You stared at him. “Why would I have a plan? I didn’t wake up this morning thinking, ‘Hey, I might have to hijack a time-traveling arcade machine today.’”

The scavengers burst into the warehouse, looking ready to kill.

Taeyong grabbed your hand. “No time for thinking! PRESS ALL THE BUTTONS!”

And that was how you accidentally triggered the machine—sending you both hurtling back through time in a swirl of bright lights and distorted sounds.

As the world spun around you, you heard Taeyong yell:

“If we end up in the dinosaur era, I’M BLAMING YOU!”

[hexalene]

I wish my family was inclined to get on the internet and tell stories because the MOST HILARIOUS saga has been happening with my parents and neighbor for the last few months.

My parents have a great marriage. Hilariously secure. Locked in with a lifetime warranty. Literally -100000% chance of cheating thanks to the…odd but effective preventative power of their collective neuroses overlapping with their better qualities. For whatever reason, it just works.

Their neighbor….is kind of a shitshow. I feel bad for her, honestly, but she’s a wreck. Late forties, early fifties bleach blonde white lady clinging to her youth. I’ve never seen her young, but I’ve gleaned from conversations that she was one of those effortlessly beautiful women who sailed through their youth partying and doing drugs and living on the grace of whatever man she happened to be with at the time.

Unfortunately, age and the partying has caught up to her and she looks pretty rough now. She’s barely cracked her 50s, but she looks my dad’s age (he’s in his 70s….though admittedly, my parents are freaks of nature who both look really young for their age).

BUT TO THE POINT: this woman is convinced she has ruined my parent’s marriage. Evidence…? Uh…

She keeps texting my mom apologizing for “stepping into her marriage” and that she “would never ever sleep with (my dad’s name)” and that they’ve never done anything, she swears. She’s just so sorry.

You may be asking, what prompted this, what EVENT has driven my father from his marriage??

My dad went over to her house and helped pick her 98 year old mother up off the floor. And handed Neighbor Lady a tissue when she cried and apologized for asking for help. He might (MIGHT, my dad is very touch averse) have pat her on the shoulder. Maybe.

Oh, you may be asking, but maybe something else did happen?? Maybe my father is LYING as cheating men do.

My mother was there. She helped. She handed my dad the tissue. This woman was never alone with my father.

It continues

On Christmas, my dad refilled her wine glass. She stared at him like he’d hung the moon. Then spun around and looked tearfully at my mother.

Unfortunately she’d whipped around so fast her robe dropped open and she flashed me.

Note: me. Not my dad. Not something I wanted to see, but like, not the end of the world. And obviously an accident. Did she apologize to me? No. Unfortunately important for the story: all I saw was like, cleavage and half a nipple. She had pants on.

She waited until my dad and I had wandered off then tearfully apologized to my mom and swore up and down it was an accident and that she didn’t mean for my dad to see her naked.

My mom burst out laughing, like, loud. We heard it from outside. Mom handed her a bottle of wine and sent her home. Then came outside and asked my dad if he’d enjoyed the show.

Of course, he hadn’t seen or noticed the flash. That had been me.

I think my parents almost peed themselves laughing over it. While they were laughing, neighbor started texting emoji laden apologies to my parents.

They joke a lot about it. My mom waved to her once and my dad immediately said, “well it looks like our marriage is over”

Neither of them can figure out what is up with this lady.

My bet is alcohol and a long history of this kind of dramatic behavior. I know this woman has been in and out of highly dramatic and toxic relationships since her teens.

I don’t think she knows any other way to exist. And I cannot sell how funny this is hard enough, the idea that she’s trying this with my dad:

The King of the Undiagnosed ADHD.

The Man With The Touch of The ‘Tism.

The God of Mobile Civilization Builders who has and I’m not joking - over 100 different emails and accounts pretending to be other people from all over the world so that he can gaslight his online friends into thinking they’re in a decade long guild war with a clan entirely populated by his female alter egos— THIS man. She thinks THIS MAN is going to take the time to cheat and be in on her drama? Amazingly funny. Absolute cinema.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Hello!

I was wondering if it is alright to get another part of this story? :0?

https://www.tumblr.com/mehiwilldoitlater/771600833847672832/was-i-up-all-night-reading-yours-fics-yes-did?source=share

He never actually got the idea of how much being the body for an old spirit could affect people around him. To be fair, the only feeling he could muster was the uneasy sensation of not being in control, feeling sorry for actions or words that might not originate from him, but rather from an ancient spirit like Wukong.

The ones that noticed the change were constantly trying to ease him; being the new king of the monkeys was already a hard task per se, and putting the weight on him seemed unnecessary. You were the only one who had the heart and strength to be honest with him. You were honest when you told him how he was and how you felt, even if it sounded blunt.

"Pushy… and I don't know, but he seems not to like me…"

Well, it seemed normal since he was already married, and Wukong confessed to him that it felt bad kissing and hugging someone else except his queen. He changed his mind when you and the lady became one, and…you did have to give credit to Yuán Fèn. Sharing one body was…awkward.

At least she wasn't like her husband! A clear case of opposites attract.

Instead of just taking control of the body without even caring about the owner's consent and the constant pestering in his thoughts, the lady was far more reasonable in setting boundaries.

You had schedules, which helped both of you to have some balance. These new arrangements worked quite well; you knew when it was her turn, and you knew that at a certain time you'd have your body back. She was quite a private individual, never tormenting you in your thoughts (unlike a certain king), and she tried her best to never cross any line.

Yuán Fèn at first had some troubles in figuring out when she was in charge, leading to some innocent misunderstanding, but he was able at the end to find some signs. Your bubbly and joyful personality became calmer and more elegant, more fitting of a queen than of the woman that he loved and cherished. He could start to understand that she wanted to ask him to bring his husband when your bashful face couldn't meet his eyes, leading to the acknowledgment that she was still quite embarrassed by asking such a thing.

Sometimes he was forced to wake up, mostly because Wukong's spouse had retreated in her own quarter of your mind. Other times instead he woke up tangled in you, clearly annoyed by the fact that something happened and he couldn't enjoy it with you.

You didn't mind… I mean, you kind of knew how sore you were after; you were quite patient with your new roommate, as you liked to call her.

"I mean," you started, "I guess she has a lot of time to catch up!"

"Yeah, I get that, but I want to spend some time with you too…"

You looked at him with an enamored smile while he was fixing his upper garment, both of you redressing yourself after another of those sexcapades of your other selves. He felt then your arms slowly encircling his abdomen, your chest touching his back, and your sweet lips caressing the skin of his neck.

"You'll have me for a lifetime. Don't worry…"

He mumbled something , too occupied on reciprocating the kisses, giving a few playful bites here and there. You were all in love, and he was just happy that the memories with you were for him only.

"…Yuán Fèn?"

"Yes."

"…I'm still kind of sore."

"…My pelvis hurt like hell."

"Cuddles and baos?"

"Heck yeah!"

@thepoweroffiction @angryvampire @the-little-devils-chaos

@nerium-lil

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @miifu666 @sleepingdramaqueen @whitefox2k18 @ladydoe8 @jeminiikrystal @theactualgir @birdioarts

@jssy96 @silenthopper @nezukos-number1fan

@blackknight-kai

[smilesatdawnmain]

ETERNAL LMK AU (Part 6) (Interactive Story)

Time for some answers

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story: Eternal Au

Ships: Shadow Peach

Digging his heels into the dirt to try and slow his speed, realizing the farther Wukong went so did he, Macaque called back angrily to the collectors,

“What is going on? What isn't good??" he demanded.

The collectors cringed, glancing at each other. Rushing to keep pace with Macaque, wearily eyeing the sky in case somehow Wukong did spot them, they nervously smiled. Normally they would never fear, but that golden vision of his- it was rumored to even view the dead if he was looking close enough.

One of the collectors, a stout figure with a chipped jaw and a nervous twitch, cleared his throat. “You see,” he started, his voice wobbly, “That connection you’re feeling? And uh, seeing? It’s… complicated.” He shuffled back a step as Macaque glared, spitting out words like venom.

“Complicated? Explain! I don’t have time for riddles while that fool flies off with me!”

The second collector, a more slender figure, leaned in closer. “It’s the bond,” he whispered, as if saying it too loudly might make his presence known to the flying King above. “Remember before how we said souls can get held up from moving on? One being, their soul is stuck or trapped like yours was?"

“Okay?” he grumbled, slipping his hand just a tad through the ropes these collectors insisted on keeping to hold onto him. Shifting between them he grasped the golden string around him. As much as he tugged and wiggled, it wouldn't loosen. It felt hot to the touch.

It felt like Wukong- his very essence and power.

It gave a strange sense of both comfort and discomfort considering Macaque’s own emotions were torn by the man.

The burly collector continues, "There are other reasons that can stop a soul from moving on. The other two are they have some lingering connection to this world that is preventing them from leaving. Or... a living connection is tethering them down. Honestly, it could be both cases for this one." the two nodded knowingly to each other.

"What does that mean?!" Macaque snapped, standing to try and pull and remove this rope from him, only to gag as it dragged him further rightward to follow after Wukong.

The Collectors followed, “Soulmates,” they summarized.

Macaque blinked, confusion flashing across his features before morphing instantly into indignation. “Soulmates? Are you out of your minds? Wukong and I?” He spat the name like it was poison. Such a thing would once thrill him. Perhaps even now it… still kind of did.

A soulmate was something rumored in the demon community. The thought of something so pure and wonderful was a dream he himself had when he was just a cub. But now, tainted by blood and betrayal, the very idea sent a shiver of revulsion coursing through him. It was horrible. It was impossible!

Something so sacred couldn’t possibly be. A soulmate came once. Not just in a lifetime. As the name implied, it was the one intended for your very soul. To find this person took more then luck.

Wukong was his soulmate??

Wukong was… his?

And he didn’t want you.

The thought made him seethe to avoid the pain that followed, “If that fool is my soulmate, then I’d rather be bound to the netherworld!” With every protest, the golden thread seemed to pulse brighter, almost as if responding to his anger. The more he wrestled against the bonds, both physical and ethereal, the stronger the connection felt. It tingled through him—a sensation that flickered between distaste and a kind of reluctant warmth. Ignoring it was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Well this doesn't often happen with mortals but well uh- demons are a little different." the smaller collector admits weakly, "Certainly makes our job harder, let me tell you. As a demon you live a long time, thus the connections you make are always stronger. Sometimes the magic of demons and their soul mates even mix together making a literal tether-" they gestured to the rope.

Macaque slowly looked down, his eyes flarring. NO.

No no no.

“What does this mean for me? Is there any way to remove this?" he couldn’t be Wukong’s soulmate. He couldn’t continue to be forever tied to that King- that jerk. The man who cared so little for him he would choose everyone else over him!

One of them shrugged, nonchalant to Macaque’s despair, "Soulmates are tricky? Honestly, maybe not until he moves on."

"Moves on??" Macaque repeated. "That doesn't- eleborate!" he barked, kicking his feet.

They held up their hands, "Chill! Chill man." they sigh. "Regrets, lingering desires, many of these things some people can let go once they come to terms with their death. A trip you never got to take, a hobby you never got around to trying- simple things that could easily be put aside. Love and soulmates, that is where it gets tricky. People could mourn all their life and never truly move on or let go of those they have lost. A person soul knows who they are destined to be with, and tend to have an issue with letting go."

Macaque's mouth felt dry. "What does that mean for me?" his mind was reeling, "Are you saying that until Wukong "lets me go" or whatever bullshit like that, I can't move on?"

The two stepped back out of Macaque's range when he tried to swipe at them, "Basically?" they offered sheepish smiles. "Same could be said for you. Sometimes those who are dead can't let go of the living people they are leaving behind.”

Macaque felt his face heat, quickly barking, “I have no issues letting that man go!”

They blinked once, then at each other, not believing him for a moment. “Rightttt.” they trail off. “Either way, usually this problem can be solves by the person eventually moving on, or... the person keeping the tether dies."

They all glanced at the very much immortal Monkey King. Macaque's eye brow twitched. He rushed over to Wukong, yelling, "Move on from me you son of a-!!”

The diyu collectors covered their ears as Macaque let out a long set of slurs.

"I wait and wait and wait- and you never had any problem letting me go before! Ditching me for years- and NOW suddenly you got an attachement issue?!"

He held onto the string attached to his waist, feeling it pull him in different directions like a puppet on a string. Peng had always made fun of him, asking if there was anything Wukong could do to break his grip over him. Well, murder sure felt like it should have done the trick!

So how was he possibly still tied to him??

….he knew how…. But he would rather not say.

Previous

Next

[thesudokukid]

Finished one of my fics recently, added a surprise one-shot to another. Figured it couldn't hurt to poke my toe into the water with my most popular fic. See if posting on Tumblr is a good idea for me.

Personal Question (why are you apologizing)

Pairing: Autistic! Connor x Autistic! Nonbinary! Reader

Word Count: 2433

AO3 Next: Basic Decency (we're being watched)

Machine Connor Variant on AO3 On Tumblr

“Why are you apologizing?”

Four words you have always wanted to hear after an infodumping session. Four impossible, sacred words induce the sweetest pain you've ever felt.

You can't have heard him right. That has to be wishful thinking on your part. Right? Right?

In which Connor asks you a personal question, as he does, you infodump in response, and experience two miracles in the same day.

This is aimed at other autistic people. I wrote this in the hopes of giving myself catharsis and am sharing it on the grounds that other autistic people may find it cathartic too.

Alternating POV fic under the cut!

“Detective,” Connor says. “Would you mind overly much if I asked you a personal question?”

He reminds you so much of you with that question, you can't help but shake your head and grin, “Of course not, go ahead.”

“This ought to be fuckin' good,” your dad grumbles.

“Why did you choose to pursue a dual degree and not a double major? From my understanding, attending university as a neurodivergent student is hard enough, a dual degree on top of that must have been…”

Oh, that. It's a good opener for a casual conversation with you. Curious and sympathetic to what you must have suffered without tripping over itself to do so.

“It was hell on earth some days, make no mistake. The workload alone-”

At this point you laugh so long he looks honestly alarmed by it. Seeing this, you shake your head.

“I figured if I’m gonna fail, I might as well fail because I dreamed too big and not because I couldn't hack it in general. The fact that psychology is one of my special interests was also pretty helpful.”

For a second Connor looks interested. Actually genuinely interested. This is interrupted by your dad coughing out of nowhere. And also Connor looking around like there's some kind of active threat happening. As soon as he realizes there's not, he comes back to the conversation and just…tilts his head. Maybe that interest wouldn't mean much to a neurotypical but for you? For you who’ve masked so long you don't even allow yourself to engage in your special interests anymore? It's everything.

You can't help the smile that breaks onto your face. Because for a minute, for a moment, for just a little while…someone actually wants to hear you talk about your special interests. And since it's been so long, you go at it a lot harder than you otherwise might have. Even mentioning your first special interest.

—

“Using my first special interest of Titanic as an example, if the devil were to walk up to me and tell me that I would be able to learn everything there is to know about the Titanic, absolutely everything, within my lifetime in exchange for my soul? Could not make that deal fast enough. Wouldn't read the fine print.”

Connor leans forward as well as he can. At the moment, nothing matters more to him than this. He doesn't quite understand why. Only that the social integration protocol isn't even a factor at this point.

“Explain?”

The resulting smile is so bright it could outshine the sun itself. The Detective begins to speak more loudly, more quickly. Stumbling over their words in their excitement to share their interest.

“Devil would be utterly terrified of how quickly I agreed. And not only that, I would honestly feel like I got the better end of the deal out of that one. By a long shot. The Devil would have to give me absolutely everything and even then it still wouldn't be enough. I would annoy the Devil so much I would be given my soul again just so I’d stop being so much of a bother about it and as you can probably surmise that absolutely would not work.”

The Detective laughs and shrugs casually, for once, perfectly at ease. There's even a sunny smile on their face.

“By virtue of being my first special interest it’s also the most intense but that's generally how I feel about psychology as well. You can imagine how much of a boon that was under those circumstances I’m sure.”

They blink and perhaps three seconds later, the joy recedes and their bright smile fades. Only to be replaced by a brittle smile.

—

That last sentence… You’re infodumping. You get your first chance to talk about your special interest to someone outside your family in years and you fucking blew it by infodumping. Of course you did. Of course you did. Your throat’s gone dry, your face has gone hot. You're maybe five seconds of bursting into tears at best. You force yourself to disengage. To avoid thinking about how desperately lonely it is to not be able to talk about your special interests at all. To force yourself not to infodump. You're so tired of hiding. But even still, you have to.

You give yourself one last moment to feel grief for who you're not allowed to be. To feel pathetic for not having a normal level of interest in something so deeply important to you. And then you claw off the part of you that clings like a barnacle to such childish things.

“And I just realized I did a fucking infodump. God that's embarrassing.”

It tries to hurt. It wants to hurt. You smother the feeling and roll your eyes at yourself as you explain what infodumping is.

“It boils down to dropping a whole lot of info about a topic at once. And I don't typically notice when someone has gotten bored or disinterested or is trying to leave the conversation and I…got too emotional. I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”

Detach. Detach. Detach. Detach. Don't feel interest. Don’t show interest. You feel nothing.

You only realize that your past self is clinging to its special interests again when it digs in at Connor’s apparent “no, wait” look. Is-Is he actually interested?

There's no way. There isn't. It's absolutely impossible. You're just seeing what you want to see.

And then… And then… A miracle.

—

“Why are you apologizing?”

Four words you have always wanted to hear after an infodumping session. Four impossible, sacred words induce the sweetest pain you've ever felt.

You can't have heard him right. That has to be wishful thinking on your part. Right? Right?

You blink at him a few times and take a sip of your drink. You look up at the rainy sky, half expecting to see a winged pig fly by. You look back at Connor.

“Genuine question so please hear me out,” you say. Connor nods instantly and you're so relieved you could cry, “Did you actually ask what I’m hoping you asked? Because I’ve wanted someone to say that for so long I am honestly afraid that I’m hallucinating.”

“You aren't imagining or hallucinating anything,” Connor says. “I did in fact ask why you were apologizing for infodumping. Is there a specific reason you felt imagining it was the more likely option?”

There are tears trying to come out of your eyes right now. If you tell him now, right now, they're going to fall and won't stop falling until you can finish your grief of having to suppress who you really are. Feeling childish for having genuine all-consuming passion. The kind of emotional breakdown that’s best to have in private.

He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you and as much as you would be delighted to allow him to, you can't. At least, not right now.

“As much as I’d like to answer that question, that's best saved for a long drawn out conversation. You can call me Ainsel by the way. Internal systems only. For your specific serial number. To make up for the fact that I’m not answering that personal question yet. Sure we're all on a lunch break now but that's gonna end eventually and then it's back to work. Also, I might have a breakdown about it. Lot of grieving to do there.”

“Oh,” he says. It feels like a stab to the heart the way he looks like a wounded puppy about it. Not unlike the way you probably did when you first realized most people don't have a special interest in psychology. That most people will never understand that you express affection by studying them like a bug under a microscope. Most people are in fact deeply offended by it. In his case the worry seems to be that he hurt your feelings or brought up painful memories.

“I’m sorry.”

He gets up and gets in the car. If you don't follow him now, he's going to start suppressing his interest just like you did and oh God he's autistic isn't he?

You were done with your lunch anyway so you toss its detritus and go sit in the car with him. Your dad is still sitting there, eating his lunch.

You look in the general direction of the rear view mirror where Connor is staring at you. Watching, watching, analyzing you. He's like you. The thought settles your stomach more than you imagined possible.

—

Connor is keenly aware of Ainsel's presence the moment they enter their father's vehicle. Eyes sticking to them like a magnet via the rear view mirror, unable and unwilling to let go.

Fortunately they don't seem to be offended by the attention. His eyes move away the second Ainsel's eyes catch his, suddenly forced to remember his place in the world. They're a human. He's an android. They don't owe him anything. They never did. They're meant to have a one way relationship. He owes them an answer to their questions. Not the other way around. He certainly has no right to ask them something so immensely personal without warning.

He opens his mouth to apologize for the discomfort he previously caused them and finds himself surprised by Ainsel's shake of the head.

“You don't owe me an apology. I wasn't offended. About the staring or asking about something personal. I never said that I wouldn't answer the question or that I had better things to do with my time. I didn't even say that it was too painful to answer at all. I only said it was too painful to answer that question during work hours. That is a whole separate thing and idea from your perception that your personal question brought up too many bad memories for me to answer it at all.”

It's here that his programming confirms it would be a waste of time to ingratiate himself with the Lieutenant rather than Ainsel. For someone so immensely private to tell him their name, or something akin to their name, can only speak well of how much goodwill they have towards him already.

And even aside from that, it doesn't make what just happened right. It's him who should be comforting them, not the other way around. He shouldn't even need it.

Decision made. Connor gets out of the car and into the backseat where he closes the door.

—

Your hands start to move, ready and willing to tap out the rhythm of Shave and a Haircut. You force them to be still. You don't want them to be. You really, really don't want them to be. But you’ve had too much good luck today. You don't want to press it by stimming in a way that's actually noticeable. Once you uncork that bottle it won't want to be recorked. Connor might be fine with it. Maybe. He was fine with your info-dumping at him after all. And not even that, he seemed honestly upset that you stopped info-dumping.

But just because he's fine with one visible autistic trait doesn't mean he'll be fine with another. His coin tricks might, maybe, be a stim but you haven't known him too long so it's hard to tell.

You bring your hands closer together, to interlock them in an effort to keep yourself from stimming. They start trembling as if in response. Almost like they're trying to reassure you that you can stim, really, it's fine.

You bite your lip and prepare to ignore the reassurance. And then another miracle.

Connor sticks a hand between both of yours and very gently, very carefully stops you from locking your hands together by pulling them apart.

There's someone else it wouldn't have worked for. Hell, for you, that may not have even worked if you hadn't realized he was autistic like you. But right now, in this moment, for you? It was exactly the right thing to do.

Apparently your calmness is showing on your face because Connor pulls back his hands and watches as you sigh from relief and lean back against the window for a minute.

You shake the previous tension out of your hands and then let them do what they wanted to earlier. They clap out Shave and a Haircut, Two Bits loud enough your hands actually hurt afterwards. But it's a good kind of pain. Necessary. Because it means that you're healing.

—

Seeing that Ainsel seems to be feeling much better, Connor tries to reassure them he isn't going to think less of them for their autistic traits.

“Perhaps sharing the level of information you did earlier at the speed you shared it would have been too much for a human. But I’m not human, am I? You needn't feel contrition or have any qualms about potentially being unpredictable. After all, adaptation to human unpredictability is one of my many features. As for the other issue…”

Connor takes out his coin and rolls it over his knuckles once or twice before returning it to its place in his pocket.

Connor grins wolfishly and tries tossing in a wink for good measure, in an effort to help Ainsel know not only that he's on their side but that he truly means what he's saying. And for… something else. He's not sure why. It doesn't matter what the other reason is in the end. His point is made all the same.

He's made a gaping hole in Ainsel's ability to self-reproach for infodumping at him. And in so doing is tacitly encouraging them to do it more. The aim, in general, is discouraging any attempts to blame themselves for giving him heaps of information on something they're so obviously exuberant about. Because he's one of the few people in the world who can actually keep up with them. Who can process it as fast as they share it or even faster.

He stays in the backseat a while longer. For the sake of getting to know Ainsel better. So he can more easily predict their behavior. Or so he tells himself.

The Lieutenant knocks on the window in the middle of Connor asking Ainsel a safe, inoffensive question about their favorite animal, startling them both.

“Am I interrupting something,” the Lieutenant asks.

Ainsel squints at the man and shrugs. “Depends on your definition of interrupting.”

Connor takes this as his cue to head back to the front passenger seat. As he gets into the seat, trying not to be disappointed by having his conversation with Ainsel interrupted.

[joyfulexchristian]

Thank you for your blog! It’s exactly what I need right now.

I’m currently trying to construct my beliefs after a lifetime raised in the PCA (Presbyterian Church of America). It’s such a mindfuck because I can see how hateful a lot of PCA beliefs are and how when their theology is applied consistently it inevitably leads to abuse. It seems like the only ppl not fostering abuse in the system have twisted the words of the Bible to mean the opposite (ex: “this verse sounds like it’s saying x but if you go to the Greek blah blah it’s actually saying y.” Or “yes that verse does say that but obviously they’re applying it wrong. It was never meant to be taken that far” etc)

But even seeing all of this my coping mechanisms under stress are all still based in God. He was supposed to be the one constant thing and i don’t know what to do with that gone.

I feel like my beliefs are currently so fucked up. Trying to write down everything I feel is true and it’s ludicrously contradictory:

- there is no God

- Jesus is God

- after we did nothing happens. It’s the same as the space before we were born

- God has a plan to redeem suffering. All the pain in the world can’t be for nothing. People who live their whole lives in extreme duress and then die must get a chance after death to live prosperous lives. I don’t need eternal life but I need to know others will have it.

- hell is ridiculous and not real. I don’t want ppl to suffer like that no matter what they’ve done so a perfect God can’t be more petty than me. All I truly want from ppl who abused me is for them to never speak to me again. The only “punishment” I might want for them is for them to realize the damage they did and that I only want so they don’t do it again to others. I’m not talking to them so I don’t care.

I’m sure there are more but that’s all I can think of right now. It’s so confusing and messy! Does it ever settle a bit? Will I ever have a set of consistent beliefs again?

The short answer is yes and yes. Things also felt messy for me at first, but I did eventually reach a point of stability.

Congrats on being open to investigating and improving your worldview! That's such a cool and kind thing to do for yourself that many people never manage. I'm sure there's a lot to unpack, so I want to encourage you to treat yourself well while you're challenging your beliefs. Take breaks, seek support, and be patient.

Early in my deconstruction, I craved certainty because I believed that that's what truth felt like. I thought I would investigate my beliefs until I had a new and better set of beliefs on the other side of the process. But along the way I figured out that stability and consistency don't need to come from having an unchanging set of beliefs.

What I found was that having a good set of tools for seeking, analyzing, and integrating information into my life was more stable than having a static set of beliefs.

My beliefs used to be precious and protected, like trophies in a glass case, high up and out of reach. When I started deconstructing, that case came crashing down.

I felt ashamed that Christianity wasn't the only tool I needed to build a stable set of beliefs. For so many people around me, that seemed to be all they needed.

I began to question why I thought Christianity was true: love, belonging, fear, authority, loyalty, and stability were the main ones. But my beliefs didn't account for empathy, ethics, or epistemology and many other things. Heck, I didn't even know the word epistemology when I started this journey. I didn't know how to seek knowledge without running it through a Christian filter first.

I'd been told that CHRISTIANITY = TRUTH, so I hadn't considered that there were other methods to seeking, analyzing, and integrating new knowledge into my life.

But then I started exploring logic, philosophy, psychology, history, biology, and other subjects I'd been afraid would challenge my Christian beliefs. I started reading about other religions and comparing them to Christianity. And, most importantly, I started going to trauma-informed therapy. All of those things helped me break out of old patterns, learn how to update my beliefs based on new information, and how not to be afraid of that whole process.

Focusing on the tools I used to build my beliefs instead of the beliefs themselves, I was able to put together my own toolbox that helped me establish a more stable system of belief. I still go by my belief-shelf every once in a while, dust things off, admire beliefs that stood up to testing, and reevaluate beliefs that didn't. But that last part got rarer and rarer and no longer feels like the end of the world. Because ultimately, I'm still working with the same toolbox.

I used think that Christianity was a universal set of tools that worked for anyone in any situation, but now I see it as one very old tool that doesn't work for everybody. And, despite what I'd been told again and again as a Christian, the Bible is not a truth-seeking tool. It's a set of stories that can tell us about what the authors thought about themselves and the world. And, don't get me wrong, I love storytelling. I think it's very important. We can learn a lot about other people, their perspectives, and their philosophies. The problem comes in when people take their specific interpretation of stories in Christianity and try to apply them universally.

But we don't have to rely on the same old tools forever. We can try out new tools and figure out what will help us build the life that we want to have. Equipped with a variety of tools instead of one dusty one, we are more prepared to live and thrive in this constantly changing world.

Looking back, I'm glad my shaky shelf of beliefs fell apart. Because it gave me the opportunity to take responsibility for my beliefs instead of just protecting them.

I want to touch on one more point that you raised before I close, and that is the unbearable weight of suffering in the world. I struggled with this a lot during my deconstruction. It's a tough thing, to come from a worldview that has simple answers and adjust to the reality that reducing suffering is much harder than "let go and let God." My advice is to seek out good news, because it won't show up in social media feeds as much as bad news does. Find the people who are helping others, solving problems, and actively building community. Also, try to find some small way to do good, lessen suffering, or prevent harm if you have the ability and resources to do so.

That's part of why I run this blog, to try to help other people let go of harmful Christian beliefs with more joy and less suffering.

Thank you for sending me this ask. Messages like these inspire me. I see the effort and empathy behind your words and it gives me more hope than I had before!

[crownmemes]

Aquarius Sentences, Vol. 2

(Sentences from Aquarius (2015-2016). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"You're at the pinnacle. Everybody's hero. But you know what? A pinnacle means there's only one way to go, and that's down."

"You know, I thought getting a medal was going to be a lot more fun."

"Everything in life is business, except for me and you."

"Look at you! All cute and irrationally confident!"

"No one ever talks about how exhausting it is to be right all the time."

"Do you ever have one of those moments where suddenly you understand everything?"

"Are we drunk? How drunk are we? What's happening?"

"I know you believe in what you're doing, but you've got to try to stop making it worse!"

"When I heard you were in the city, I was disappointed you hadn't called!"

"Grab anything that says flammable!"

"Don't lecture me on a job I've been doing since you couldn't wipe your ass!"

"Where do you want to be shot?"

"Do you ever know something and don't know how you know it?"

"What were you trying to prove by doing this? Just showing me that you're good at sneaking into places you're not wanted? I already knew that!"

"Thank you for being kind when you don't have to be."

"She's the best at what she does, but nobody knows what she does."

"I know you wanted to fix this, but some things can't be fixed."

"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do with my own child."

"All you do - all you ever do - is embarrass me!"

"I think that's what being a parent is. You love them, and get a lifetime of pain in return."

"Good for you. You finally figured out how to be a father."

"This is the worst idea you've ever had."

"You're good at this. You're strategic. That's not going to work for me. I need a maniac who's going to burn the house down while standing in it."

"You shot me in the ass!"

"You know, I wish there was a cure for guilt and shame, but if there was then I would be out of a job."

"I can destroy you in ten words or less."

"Bluffing is for someone who might have the cards. You know what I have? Nothing."

"You can't just hurt people! You can't tie them up in their own homes!"

"You're a mess, but I like you anyway."

"I need to do a bad thing."

"We all have secrets. We all lie."

"I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you until you tell me everything."

"Your mother didn't love you, and now you crave anyone to make you feel less alone."

[wren-kitchens]

the only one (only one) i keep coming back to

1831 words

mumbo takes one step closer to his front door and a phantom hand grasps at his throat—far too familiar for him to consider surprising, but certainly signalling that the person at his door is not just someone who lost their way and needs to call a ride. maybe he can just pretend he’s not in- "don’t you dare." comes sol's voice, and something in mumbo's chest aches a little as he hears the desperation in it. "please."

a continuation of my superhero au that has very minimal worldbuilding and exists only for fun situations to put the characters in! now with grumbo!

icl this is mostly for ed and judas who immediately got summoned in the discord when i brought grumbo up LHDKS

I KNEW I WAS GONNA FORGET SOMETHING grian's powers are entirely based on this incredible fanart by @bc-jpeg!!

it's nearly three in the morning when mumbo is woken up by an annoyingly loud knock at his door—much to his disgruntlement. if there's any time for someone to come demanding attention, the middle of the night is exactly the opposite of perfect. he needs his beauty sleep, okay! he's had enough jokes about his moustache needing trimming whenever he’s had less sleep than usual to last him a lifetime, and he would prefer to keep it that way.

grumbling to himself about how his hair will never stick back down again, mumbo drags himself out of bed, shoves his feet into his slippers (which are very handy to have, don't you make fun of him for them; they’re comfortable) and pushes his bedroom door open. 

the knocking has become louder, almost urgent, and mumbo has to wonder who on earth would need him so desperately this late at night. not to say he isn't valuable, but- okay, even he can admit that electricity manipulation is not the best of powers when it comes to fighting. which- to be entirely honest, mumbo is extremely glad for; he is not exactly the best in a high pressure situation. 

on that note, he really hopes this knocking does not preface a high pressure situation.

the second this thought enters his mind, mumbo takes one step closer to his front door and a phantom hand grasps at his throat—far too familiar for him to consider surprising, but certainly signalling that the person at his door is not just someone who lost their way and needs to call a ride. maybe he can just pretend he’s not in-

"don’t you dare." comes sol's voice, and something in mumbo's chest aches a little as he hears the desperation in it. "please."

the hand on his throat loosens its grip as mumbo reaches for his keys, almost dropping them in the dark. "I don’t know why you come to me." he mutters to himself, unlocking the door. "you know I can’t help."

sol seems physically unharmed, but there's a kind of darkness in his eyes that mumbo has only seen once before. "there's- something happened. and I- I don’t know what it. means."

"and you thought I could figure it out?" mumbo almost grins at the concept.

"of course not, i’m not an idiot." sol says, a hint of a smile around his mouth. "I don’t know, I just- you.. I trust you more than. more than anyone, right now."

the ghost of a hand brushes briefly against mumbo's knuckles, and he gets the sense that sol didn’t mean to actually touch him at that moment, because he looks away before mumbo can make eye contact. 

"you- you can." mumbo says, surprising himself a little- and sol, apparently, if his expression is anything to go by. "I just- y’know. I don't mind."

sol doesn’t say anything, instead just making a beeline for mumbo's living room, but mumbo feels an invisible hand slip into his, and he gives it a gentle squeeze as he follows. by the time mumbo enters the lounge, sol is already sat on his sofa, looking at him expectantly. if this weren't such a worrying moment, he might find it funny.

"okay. what's happened?" mumbo sits next to him, leg bouncing immediately. 

sol sighs heavily, dropping his head into his hands. "it- stella is gone. i don’t know- i haven't tried to find out where, but they’re going to make me soon, and i don’t- i don’t know what they'll do if they find him."

it takes a moment for the information to hit him, but when it does, it feels like a tonne of bricks. "he’s- what do you mean, gone?"

"he did- something, i don't even remember what it was, but-" sol drags his hands through his hair. "they told us- they said to capture him by any means necessary. i don’t think any of us tried as hard as we could- i don’t think that was even on the table, i mean- i didn't know what to think." 

sol looks up, visibly exhausted. "stella wasn't- he was on the edge of acceptable to them. he messed up once, and suddenly he was expendable." something brushes against mumbo's arm, gone before he can catch it in his hand. "i don't know what that means for the rest of us."

mumbo lets out a long breath. "okay. that's- that's definitely bad."

there's a beat as he tries to figure out what to say next, but before he can, sol snorts. "yeah- well worked out."

"i’m- i was gonna say something else." mumbo can’t help but grin a little, some of that awful tension seeping out of the room. "i just- are you their only way to track him down?"

sol pauses. "i’m.. maybe. they know where we all live, but- he won't have just gone back to his house, he’s too smart for that." he continues in a mutter, more to himself than mumbo. "i didn’t think he had anyone outside of us- which either means he saw this coming and hid himself, or he’s just.. really sad."

mumbo tries unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh, and sol bats at his arm. "that is sad- don’t laugh."

"i’m sorry- it's just the way you said it." mumbo says, trying to keep a straight face. "no- i’m not laughing, it's not funny. it- continue."

sol glares at him, but the smile tugging the corners of his lips upward negates any impact it might have had. "i was going to say, they have no way of reaching him. if- if i’m not there." he hesitates. "i can’t leave terra on his own like that- i can’t leave any of them like that."

"bring him." mumbo says before he really understands the situation he’s putting himself in. even after, he finds he doesn't regret it. "i have the space to spare."

"i don't- this is a lot of danger you’d be inviting in." sol says, visibly unsure. which, honestly, is kind of funny, when this is maybe the surest mumbo has ever been. "with stella on the run-"

"where is stella?" mumbo says suddenly, bringing sol up short. it occurs to him- that thing joel said a couple days ago- "because- i think- i think i might know where he is."

sol stares at him for a moment. "how on earth do you know-"

"i think he’s with pyro." mumbo insists, and the look on sol's face is hilarious.

"pyro?!" he squawks, appalled by even the suggestion. "they hate each other- stella broke his window two weeks ago!"

"i know, but- he just- he said something a couple days ago, about.. oh, i forgot what, but-" mumbo stands, too much nervous energy to sit anymore, and begins to pace up and down the carpet. "something about having a fugitive in his flat. i just- i thought he was making a joke about himself, but if stella is gone, and he has no one to turn to-"

"his mortal enemy's home is the last place i’d look." sol says slowly, as if beginning to believe mumbo's wild theory. "i- okay, i'll check, just- if you’re wrong.."

he doesn't finish that sentence. instead, sol shuts his eyes and grits his teeth, and the air in the room seems to solidify. mumbo has just enough time to think that he’s never seen sol do this before, when a thousand eyes open all across sol's face, and arms, and wings and- every single inch of exposed skin, rendering him completely and utterly speechless. 

it seems to go on forever, the two of them frozen in this beautifully horrifying painting, when sol finally lists sideways and the eyes close. he gasps, opening his two normal eyes, and turns to mumbo. 

"he’s- he’s with pyro." his voice is hoarse, as if he'd been screaming for hours. "no one knows where he is. 'cept for us. and- pyro, i guess."

"so- i’d say, they’re not finding him without you." mumbo says, placing what he hopes is a reassuring hand on sol's shoulder. "and i’d- i wouldn't expect they'd find you, either."

sol glances at mumbo's hand briefly, then turns back to face him. "you’re serious about this."

mumbo gives an awkward grin. "well- yeah. probably not the best survival strategy, but- i mean. i’d like to say you’re my friend."

"oh." sol stares at him, something in his expression that mumbo can’t parse. that is- until sol leans forward and pulls mumbo into a hug, invisible hands carding softly through his hair. "thank you."

"no- no problem, dude." mumbo hugs back, because what else is he about to do here? besides, embarrassing as it is, he’s kind of wanted to hug sol for a little while anyway, so he’s not about to pass up this kind of opportunity. 

"you’re my friend." sol says into mumbo's shoulder. "i don’t- no one i trust more than you." 

"i- same here." mumbo says, a little shocked. he never would have imagined he'd be considered anyone's most trusted, but here he seems to be. "and i- i mean it, y’know. pretend you’re on a- I don’t know, some sort of mission. bring them here."

"my name's grian, by the way." he pulls back, and a hand brushes his cheek. mumbo tries to convince himself he doesn't like it as much as he does—it almost makes him overlook the information he’s just been given.

"oh. oh- i-" mumbo stammers, and judging by sol's amused expression, he’s definitely blushing. no- no he’s grian now- or, well, mumbo supposes he always was. "i- thank you. i’m- i’m mumbo."

grian smiles a little, tilting his head. "mumbo." he says, as if trying out the word. "yeah- it suits you."

mumbo finds himself, once again, rendered speechless. there seems to be a pattern occurring here- is that one of grian's powers that he just never happened to mention? or is that.. what mumbo kind of suspected it might have been for a little while now?

"well," grian stands, and mumbo just stares at him. "i’m- i’m going to get them then."

"i- yeah. yeah, that's- that's good." mumbo manages, mind spinning a little. not to- not to be weird or anything, but he kind of. he kind of likes the way grian looks standing over him. oh gosh. "you- go do that."

grian grins at him. "i'll see you in a bit."

grian turns around and makes to walk to the door, but before he leaves, he hesitates. mumbo is about to ask if anything is wrong, when grian is suddenly in his face, something mumbo can only describe as a smirk plastered all across his lips, when suddenly those lips are being pressed against his cheek. it's all mumbo can do to gawk as grian pulls back, wiggles his fingers in a teasing goodbye, and walks down the hallway and out the door, leaving mumbo completely lovestruck.

oh gosh.

[sorinethemastermind]

Love, War, and Honesty

In which Corvus realizes he loves Soren, and they make a new friend. The Katolis survivors prepare to travel to The Banther Lodge. #Sorvus

 It’s the first time that Soren’s been out of his sight since they were reunited after the attack, and Corvus wasn't prepared for the pit of worry that’s now gnawing at his stomach. He had known, logically, that he cared a lot about Soren. But it wasn’t until Ezran received the letter telling them of Katolis’ fate that he’d realized how much. And it wasn’t until now that he realized that feeling wasn’t going to go away. 

 I guess love is being worried, he thought, hands busy repairing a family’s tent. His mind was busier though, and he went through the motions on muscle memory alone. Thankfully he’d had to do this a lot at camp. 

 It was this busyness of thought that made it take a moment for him to realize he’d thought the word love. He wondered how many times he’d already done it without realizing. Because it was true. It had been for a while, if Corvus was being honest with himself. But was it for Soren?

 Corvus knew that Soren was not new to love. The last few years in Katolis had proved that. It seemed like he was always catching feelings for one person or another, though it rarely lasted long. Loving Soren wasn’t easy for most people, it seemed. But was anything worthwhile ever?

 Still, this was not the time for finding out. So much had happened, and yet so little time had passed. It felt like a lifetime, in some ways, a mere moment in others. Corvus finished his repairs, said farewell to the thankful family, and began to wander the encampment in search of other places his services might be needed. They would leave for The Banther Lodge in less than an hour. There was hardly time to get everyone packed and ready to move, let alone for him to confess his feelings to Soren.

 If he even had the courage to.

 Corvus did not think himself an especially brave man, he simply did what was needed of him and what was right. Not brave, he thought, so much as honest. But with honesty came a certain kind of vulnerability, one that left the real you ever exposed. So he’d learned when to speak and when not to, and now, he thought, was maybe one of those times when he shouldn’t. Not yet. Someday. Someday when this was all over, maybe.

 It was then that he spotted the familiar gleam of sunlight on steel, the swoop of blond hair, the sparkling blue eyes. He raised a hand in greeting to Soren, blinked in surprise when another figure stepped out of the woods beside him. The elf, Runaan. Corvus had never heard Soren talk about that night, but he knew from Opeli that he had been there. But while the elf did not smile, there seemed to be no animosity between them. Soren waved back, beginning to stride across the encampment towards him.

 He stopped when he realized the elf wasn’t following, turned back and urged him onward with words that Corvus couldn’t quite catch. Awkwardly, uncomfortably, Runaan followed Soren as the latter jogged across the clearing to stop before Corvus.

 “Corvus!” he beamed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I want you to meet my new friend. This is Runaan.”

 “Greetings.” the elf said, giving him a slight nod.

 “Greetings.” Corvus echoed, surprised by Soren’s jovial tone. Trying to place whether it was fact or fiction. “Welcome to Katolis.”

 “It’s usually a little grander.” Soren added. “But we’ll rebuild.”

 “I am sure you will. Humans are very resourceful.” It was phrased like an insult, but spoken with surprising honesty. 

 “That we are.” Soren beamed, like it was some kind of inside joke. But, then again, that was just Soren. He turned back to Corvus, jutting a thumb back over his shoulder at Runaan. “He’s going to stick with us.”

 “I am?”

 “You are.” Soren informed the elf. “I mean, you’re not super popular at the moment, but we’ve got your back. Plus, I think you and Corvus will get along. You both sneak around in forests and stuff.”

 “Very well then.” Runaan seemed to accept his fate as Soren’s newest friend and fell into step beside Corvus as the trio made their way to where the last of the supplies were being packed up. When the elf didn’t try to make any sort of small talk, Corvus decided that Soren was right, they would get along. Though perhaps not for the reason he’d thought.

 “Uhm, give me a sec. I’m going to go talk to the king.” Soren said, stopping near the edge of the gathering crowd. Runaan nodded, seeming to understand the unspoken reasoning. Of course he did. It was probably all he could think about. That and the unspeakable evil that had recently been released upon the world. 

 Soren jogged off to find Ezran, and Corvus offered their services to a family in need of some extra hands. None of them knew who Runaan was, and though their wariness about Xadia seemed to have returned somewhat after the dragon attack, they accepted his help thankfully. Together he and Runaan packed up their mule with tent, food, and what few personal possessions had escaped the fire. Then they moved on to the next, and the next, and the next. Making their way steadily down the line of families until Corvus spotted Soren’s blond head weaving through the crowd back to them. 

 He left Runaan to finish with the family they had been helping and went to meet him, the two of them standing in a small pocket of quiet in the midst of the bustle of preparations. 

 “You two getting along?” Soren asked. Corvus nodded, and Soren grinned. “Knew you would. He’s really not so bad, once you get to know him. Just, uh. Consider keeping him away from King Ezran our secret Crownguard mission.”

 “How is King Ezran? I’ve barely seen him since we arrived.” Corvus felt guilty at his own admission, knowing that as a Crownguard, it was his duty to stand by the king. And knowing that his distraction was purely personal. And smiling very broadly at him. Though that smile faltered as he answered. 

 “He’s… well, he’s doing as good as he can right now. He’s tough.” Soren sighed. “I just wish he could be a tough kid instead of a tough king sometimes, you know?”

 “I do.” 

 “I keep trying to talk to him, but it’s like he’s just throwing himself into this whole relocation thing. He’s so busy trying to show everyone that he’s fine that he’s not even asking himself if he is.” Soren continued frustratedly. 

 Corvus considered pointing out the irony to him, but irony was like sarcasm; it usually took a while for Soren to spot it. Sometimes he would catch it, often far too late, and exclaim proudly to whoever happened to be nearby that he got it now. Corvus often happened to be the person hearing about it in hindsight, and while at first he’d been confused or tried to explain the concept, he now just enjoyed the excitement with which he was regaled with the story. 

 “He’ll come to you. When he’s ready.” Corvus assured him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “He always does.”

 “I just wish he was ready now-er” Soren huffed. “I hate seeing him like this.”

 “I know.”

 Soren leaned into Corvus’ side as they walked back to where he’d left Runaan, who had seemingly volunteered them to lead a few of the horses.

 “I hope you do not mind-” he tried to say, but Soren cut him off almost immediately with a wide smile.

 “See, you’re fitting in already! This is perfect.” His tone changed then, lowering so that only the few of them could hear. “Callum is going to be traveling with the king for a bit, they need to catch up. So if you want to bring your horse over there, it’s just Rayla.”

“Thank you.” Runaan said, nodding to them both as he led his horse and it’s packed supplies over towards where Corvus could see Rayla fidgeting anxiously at the edge of the gathering crowd. Her face lit up when she saw her father, and they fell into conversation as soon as he arrived.

 Corvus smiled, looking over at Soren. People didn’t give him enough credit. But his enjoyment of the moment was tainted by the look of longing that filled his partner’s eyes. There was an honest happiness in his smile, yes. But there was also the ever present shadow Corvus had known for almost as long as he’d known Soren.

 “That was a very nice thing you did.” Corvus said, trying to get his attention. 

 Soren nodded, slowly. “Just trying to help.”

 “You always are.” Corvus said, handing Soren one of the horse’ leads. 

 They walked side by side as they followed the rest of the group, instinctively falling back to guard the rear of the progression. Slowly, the encampment began the long trek to The Banther Lodge.

 Soren was quiet at first, but as they traveled, his usual jovial self returned. Corvus didn’t pry, he knew that he would tell him when he was ready. Instead he enjoyed the familiar back and forth of their banter as they walked, letting the moment slip away behind them as they did. 

 Love was built on honesty, but honesty was also understanding that sometimes the things you don’t say matter just as much as the ones you do. And Corvus was willing to stand by Soren even in silence. It might not always be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever was.

[sephirthoughts]

Hi! For the ask game, what unpopular opinions do you have about Sephiroth?

HELLO FRIEND THANK YOU FOR THE ASK also expect my vengeance forthwith.

i know you specified one question but i've decided to answer all of them about sephiroth because i love him and no one can stop me

How I feel about this character

i love him in ways i can't describe in human words without resorting to gifs of explosions and people sobbing and thirsty cats. he is up there with Majima Goro and Revolver Ocelot and Vincent Valentine for my favorite characters of all time ever

All the people I ship romantically with this character

EVERY. FUCKING. ONE.

cloud strife obviously. vincent valentine because it's SO GOOD. rufus shinra because it's sad. zack because it's sweet and healing. genesis rhapsodos for a multitude of reasons.

i like him with aerith, if she's the dom and he's the big scary dog submissive, begging at her feet. actually i think i might write some of that...

the only one i really dislike as a ship for sephiroth is angeal but that's because their chemistry is so BLEH to me. i've tried and i just can't make it go.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

genesis because i love their sassy-bitch chemistry

My unpopular opinion about this character

sephiroth is not evil. not even after nibelheim. he does not deserve to die. he does not deserve to suffer, because of what he did.

first of all, retributive justice without the goal of rehabilitation is just revenge, and should be embarrassing to anyone seriously advocating for it. i mean, i say i want to do terrible things as a hyperbole obviously. we all say we want to exact vengeance on those who do us wrong, but that is an understood figure of speech. taken seriously, it's an emotional reaction to percieved harm, which has no place in the execution of justice.

no matter what sephiroth did, he needs to be incapacitated (to prevent further harm) and rehabilitated (to address and treat the underlying issues that caused his bad behavior), just like any other human being.

i personally think that he is MORE deserving of mercy and redemption than most video game villains, because of two things: lack of malice, and mental unfitness to make decisions.

crime requires malice aforethought and mental competence. sephiroth had neither. sephiroth had a psychotic break, due to a lifetime of hideous abuse, compounded by his being manipulated by an alien whose literal whole thing is manipulating people into doing its evil bidding.

he was never even a little bit of a bad person before that happened. he was a child owned by a corporation, he was isolated, brainwashed, abused, forced to commit war crimes, kept in a metal box, and was severely mentally ill. and STILL he was a kind, gentle, caring person, until that "you're actually a monster" last straw (along with jenova fucking around in his head).

there's a lot more to this but i am not going to try and hash it all out here right now. maybe i'll eventually make one of those long analysis posts with proper in-game citations and shit, like i'm still in grad school. 😂

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

i wish his biological father vincent valentine would hug him

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK VENGEANCE SHALL BE FORTHCOMING 🖤

[newtthetranswriter]

Dayquil, Curses, and Soulmates

Paring: Toge inumaki x gn! reader

Summary: In a world where soulmates are real, you get a bond that is quite annoying per say, you feel each other's pain, and your soulmate happens to be the one guy in the world that has a lifetime supply of throat medicine.

Word count: 1698 

Warnings: talk of explosion, talk of medicine, talk of pain, putting these just in case cause you never know

A/n: thought this was a fun idea, let me know how you like it, and big thanks to @just-jordie-things​ for the bit about bumping into each other buying cough medicine. Also if you catch my reference you get a cookie. please ignore any typos, i might come back and fix it later. If I mention school I mean college.  MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

 For as long as i could remember i have always got random pain in my throat. I couldn’t explain it but I would describe it as if I swallowed sandpaper. When I was younger it used to happen all of the time. One moment I was fine and being a happy kid and the next I was coughing like I hadn't had water in days. Around the age of five though my parents took me to the doctor to see if they could figure it out. Turns out that out of all the soulmate connections I could have, I’m stuck sharing pain with my soulmate. I couldn’t help but wonder what my soulmate was doing at such a young age to cause such pain so often.

 At around the age of ten or so it stopped happening as often, but when it happened it sucked. I got used to always carrying around a bottle of cough medicine for when it happened so I could at least talk with less pain. I still have no clue as to what my soulmate does to give us such terrible sore throats but I'm at least glad they slowed down a bit. 

  Today was a normal Saturday which means going out to check the shops for any cool trinkets I might want and get some snacks. Even though I was going out to get fun things, my first stop was the corner store to pick up some more cough medicine as I ran out last week and forgot to get more. 

  I swear when I meet my soulmate they are paying me back for all this cough medicine I have to buy. I thought to myself as I entered the store I have been a regular at for the past two years since starting school. I waved at the shop keeper as I walked off to the medicine aisle to grab my usual travel bottle of cough syrup and an extra just in case. As I reached for the medicine my hand bumped into someone else who seemed to be reaching for the same thing as me. 

  “Oh, I’m sorry you were here first; you can go ahead.” I said looking up at the stranger. Looking at them I would guess that they were a boy about my age with fluffy white hair and beautiful purple eyes. I also noticed he was wearing a school uniform with what looked like an extra-long collar covering the lower half of his face. Even though I was confused by it, I tried not to stare at the handsome stranger in front of me.

  He looked almost shocked when I spoke to him. He gave me a small nod, grabbed the medicine and walked away. I couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t said anything but brushed it off as him being shy. After he reached the register, I finally snapped out of my trance and grabbed my own bottles of cough medicine and headed to the front.

   “Hey, there Y/n. Soulmate causing trouble again?” asked Ukai, the owner of the small business who is used to me coming in every couple week.

   “Yeah, I wonder what they keep doing to cause this cause it's so annoying not being able to talk for an hour because of the pain.” I responded not noticing the stranger from earlier freezing up for a second before leaving the store.

  “Well kiddo, I hope you find them soon so you get some answers.” He responded as he handed me my bag. “Have a good day and good luck with the soulmate.”

     After waving goodbye to the man behind the counter who was always kind to me I made my way towards the shops for the day. I was ready to just enjoy my time alone with my thoughts, mostly plotting revenge on my soulmate for this pain, but also just enjoying the fresh air.

  After a few hours I noticed it starting to get dark and decided it was probably best to head home before my parents get concerned. I also don’t really enjoy being out when it gets dark. I don't know how to explain it but other than the annoying soulmate connection, ever since I was kid I could see these weird creatures. As I got older I started ignoring them but whenever I go out at night it seems like there's a lot more, and they give me the creeps.

  As I was passing an alleyway I heard rustling and paused to look and see if it was an animal or something, boy was I wrong. As I looked down the alleyway towards the sound one of the creatures, that I feel like only I can see, lunged towards me. Long dark claws stretched out towards me, right as it was about to sink its claws into my arm I heard what sounded like someone running up from the side, and a voice yelling to move. I’m not sure what came over me, it was like my feet had a mind of their own and I jumped out of the way.

 “EXPLODE” was the next thing I heard the voice say before the creature did just that. It exploded in a large cloud of smoke. Almost immediately after that thing exploded, I was thrown into my own terrible coughing fits, but what was even weirder was I could make out the sound of someone else coughing as well. I reached for the cough medicine I bought earlier and drank half of the first bottle, as large amounts were the only thing that helped.

  “What the hell was that?” I rasped out as best I could waiting for the medicine to start working. The person who had saved me looked up at me with a look of shock on his face. It was at that moment I recognized that it was the same guy from earlier. I could tell it was him from his white hair and uniform jacket that now had the collar unzipped, with the collar no longer hiding the lower half of his face. I could make out what looked like strange tattoos on either side of his mouth. 

  I probably also had a look of shock on my face as I pieced everything together. One this guy could see the weird creatures as well, two he somehow made me move and that thing explode with just words. Last and most important, this guy is my soulmate, it just makes sense it can’t be a coincidence that my soulmate would get a throat pain right as this guy saves me, causing his own coughing fit. I was sure of it and judging by the look on his face he figured it out as well.

  I waited for a moment as I watched him scramble for something in his pocket, and he let out a sound of triumph as he pulled out his phone and walked closer to me while typing out a message. He motioned for me to look at the screen. Sorry for making you spend so much on cough medicine, It's part of my job kinda. I looked at him slightly confused as he started typing again.

  “Why do you keep typing, why not voice what's up instead?” I asked, not understanding fully why this guy who just made something explode with his voice is now refusing to talk. I watched as he shook his head at me and pointed to his phone again. My throat is still messed up, but I also can’t talk like you do. I could explain more over dinner tomorrow if that's ok with you? He asked me using his phone's note app. I looked at him skeptically for a second, but the agreed and gave him my phone number to text me the details.

  “I’m Y/n, by the way, if we’re soulmates I figure we should probably know each other's names” I said as he started typing again. It's nice to meet you Y/n, I’m Toge Inumaki, but you can just call me Toge. After I finished reading the message on his phone I looked up into his kind purple eyes and knew that this was the start of something great. “I can’t wait to go out tomorrow, and also find out whats up with that thing that you blew up.” I said with a chuckle 

  “Salmon” I heard the boy next to me rasp out, his voice sounding more messed up than mine did when I first spoke a minute ago. I looked at him confused for a second before I felt my phone go off in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a message from an unknown number. Hey, it's me, your soulmate, what I mean by salmon is I can't wait for tomorrow either. I also promise to explain everything, I bet this is all kinda weird :)  I read the message and smiled back at him as his face lit up with one of the brightest smiles I had ever seen. 

  “Well it's getting late, I should be getting home. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye Toge.” I said waving to him as I walked off hearing a small “salmon” and catching him waving before zipping his collar and walking the opposite direction.

   I was a few blocks away and almost home when my phone went off again: get homesafe, if you need me text please. Have a goodnight.  I smiled at the message and responded with an ok, you too. After the small text exchange I finally made it home, I went up stairs and went to bed happy with how the day went. I may have been almost attacked by a weird creature that most people apparently can’t see, but I finally met my soulmate. I can’t wait to get to know him and maybe find out why i was saying salmon so much but hey that's a problem for tomorrow.

  I drifted off to sleep with the thoughts of my soulmate and some slight planning on how to get revenge for the non stop sore throats without causing pain, cause that would be counterproductive.